#still be more chill blogging sorry

[true-bluesargent]

not a michael and jeremy shipper but i believe in their beliefs

[gemharvest]

fffffuck I hate that just existing feels too overwhelming sometimes. Like I'll be fine dw about me I've been feeling like this for. Years now. But god the way you just don't rlly get used to it.

[welcome-to-neighborhood-park]

A meme in honor of Kent, Eddie's handler. The embarrassment got him, I'm afraid.

[ghostofasecretary]

feeling very down! annoyed about it! i had a good day!! i am upset that my brain went on a 45 minute long spiral about how bad my last job went and also how bad All My Trauma Ever has been and also how my life is a mess! i am trying to get out of that pit but it's not going great! graaaaargh!!

[omaano]

Friendly reminder that you are our favorite nerd and artist. You rock! Keep believing in yourself for we will do the same ❤️

Thank you so much!! 🥺🥺💕 That is very kind of you, my friends! 💕💕

[psylid]

heyyyyyy, somehow i've been gone for almost a year again 😔.

just wanted to let anyone who is still around know that it finally happened, and i got into another fandom enough to draw for it--

i've actually been posting a little bit over on my second art tumblr that i made years ago but never used because i never drew anything besides hat films lol.

the fandom is.....it's always s/unny in p/hiladelphia lol. if you happen to be a fan too or just wanna hang out, please do! currently, i am very busy being m/acdennis trash, but i'm hoping now that i've broken the seal, i'll draw for more fandoms like W/WDITS and such.

anyway, come say hi if you're up for it: @ p s y m a c h i n e

[scarlettcryptid]

hardcore projecting my avoidancy onto dabi in this soulmate au thing i started in november

[hottestvirgin]

𝐈 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆.. | 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

he might have just discovered another side of you and to be honest.. it turned him on

warnings(17+). smut, meandom!sunghoon, unprotected sex, name calling (bitch), creampie, backshots, dumbification

your best friend had just found your secret blog on tumblr where you wrote about all of the sexual desires you’ve had for him.

you had thought that you made the blog so discreetly, faking your own identity and who you were writing about. you had thought. nevertheless, sunghoon managed to find out that the blog belonged to you.

and it was unhinged; you wrote about how you would imagine him leaving wet kisses all over your aching body while he’s balls deep in you. or how you couldn’t even stare at him without thinking about fucking him.

how soaking wet your panties would be every time he would come over to chill. or how when you’d watch a movie with him, you would spend the whole time thinking of dirty scenarios: shower sex, angry sex, make up sex, floor sex, wall sex, pool sex, sex, sex, sex.

and you documented it all.. because why not? you wanted all your girlies who interacted with you to know how you felt about that man. you had no shame because of course he would never find the blog.

but damn, were you wrong.

it made your blood run cold when your “secret” username slipped past his lips. all the air in your lungs were stolen from that simple sentence.

“so that’s not you?” he cocked his head with that stupid know–it-all look on his face.

how.. when..?

“i read the stuff you wrote about me and it’s…” he paused, trying to find the right word, “wild.”

“it wasn’t even about you.” you argued, trying to act as nonchalant as fucking possible. it wasn’t working. sunghoon could see right through you.

“so the S guy you write about isn’t me?” he questioned.

well.. in your defense you were one-hundred percent sure that he or anyone else wouldn’t figure out it was about sunghoon just by the first letter of his name.

“you have a really big ego. what if i was talking about sunoo?” you interrogated, trying to flee from the scene but he took a step forward, firmly gripping your arm.

“d’you really think i’m dumb?” he furrowed his eyebrows and licked his lips as he spoke, “hm?”

“i-i said it wasn’t about you.” you said again. his grip on your arm had your stomach churning in arousal. your heart was racing, and you were certain that he could feel your pulse through your arm.

sunghoon tsked at your lie, “cool.”

maybe it was manifestation, or just pure luck. but that same arm was yanked behind you as sunghoon plunged his hips into you, splitting you open on his thick cock.

he cooed at your cute attempts at trying to squirm away from his staggering thrusts. “none of that— quit trying to run from it..” sunghoon grunted, voice trembling from how soft your walls were around his cock, “you was talking all that on your blog and can’t even take it? tsk.”

you hummed at his word, spit pooling in your mouth from being fucked so good that you couldn’t even remember to swallow anymore. “m’ s.. sorry, fffuck!” you squealed, but it didn’t stop his harsh thrusts.

he pushed your head into the mattress, treating your aching body like his personal fleshlight, “you’re such a dirty bitch. made to be fucked, huh?” sunghoon groaned at how wet you were and the sounds your cunt made. it was so filthy and only got him throbbing more and more inside of you.

he shoved two slender fingers into your mouth, sliding them down your throat as drool spilled down your chin, fingers digging into the mattress beneath you. you remembered writing about how much you’d love for this to happen. and it happened.

clenching hard around him, sunghoon pulled his fingers from your throat and wiped your own salvia across your face. “nasty girl.” he grunted, breathless.

you delivered a guttural scream when he smacked your ass, repeatedly. your thighs quivered as you tried to escape the pain, only to be forced still by his large hands. “c-can’t, i can’t! please..” you wined, screaming into the bedsheets.

“this is what you wanted, right?” sunghoon teased, referring back to your blog, “you greedy bitch, stay still and take this dick.”

you’re sooo full of dick that you can’t breathe properly. you were certain that you were taking all of him, but you can feel him sinking deeper and deeper into you as time passed. “i-i love your cock.. h-hoonie. s’ good, l-let me cum.” you whined.

“shiiit, go ahead.”

it took a long, hasty few seconds before you were convulsing around him and coming hard, harder than you’ve ever came in your life; everything cut to white noise and clear liquid spilled out of your cunt as his hips shuttered against you.

“that’s right.. keep squirting that filthy pussy for me.” sunghoon moaned. then he pulsed inside of you and shot his thick, sticky load into your cunt, painting your walls with his fluids.

it was like every muscle in your body had stopped working, body falling limp onto the bed. sunghoon stilled above you, pulling out to watch his cum flood and drip out of you.

“next time when you lend me your laptop, close your damn tabs Y/N.”

[bunnis-monsters]

My Doll

Male!Haunted Doll x Fem!Reader

Bunni’s Monstertober Event

Oct5

Oct4

Oct6

warnings: clingy behavior, fingering, teasing, cockwarming

summary: Your haunted doll boyfriend is tired of you coming home late, so he teaches you a lesson.

“You really shouldn’t be out so late…”

The feeling of his cold, porcelain digits tracing your soaked panties made you whimper. “I’m sorry… I lost track of time talking to my-“

He pressed down on your clothed, a yelp escaping your mouth at the sudden stimulation. “The male one?”

“N-no…”

The pressure eased, and he went back to his gentle ministrations, his smooth, cool lips pressing into her flushed neck.

“Mmm… still, this is the second time this week you’ve been late… don’t you miss me while you’re gone? I should always be the only one on your mind…”

He pulled you even closer to him. Your plump ass was already seated in his lap, but now you were pressed against him, feeling the chill of his porcelain body settle into your back.

“You’re all I have, you know? Without you here, I’m all alone.”

His finger plunged into your cunt, cold and unforgiving as another entered with it. “A-ah…”

He cooed at you as you writhed. “Shh, shh… I know, it’s cold and uncomfortable isn’t it? But you’ll take it, won’t you? My lap is already soaked…”

You shivered, panting softly as he curled his fingers, pressing against that special spot. “That’s my girl…”

Before you could cum, he pulled his fingers out, chuckling as you whined and tried to rub your wet cunt against his palm.

“Needy thing…” he cooed, the sound of porcelain cracking and bending making you shiver. You knew what was coming.

The creature inside of the doll, the one you loved was coming out. It’s cock, slimy and wet wiggled and twitched, ready to be inside of you.

You’d never seen his true form in its entirety… he could only show you bits and pieces so you didn’t go completely insane.

It rubbed at your hole, testing it before sinking in. You let out a shaky moan, your eyes neatly rolling into the back of your head as it writhed and wriggled inside of you. It was like a tentacle, moving of its own free will.

“That’s my girl…” he purred, holding you close and letting you warm his cock. “My sweet angel… you can be still for me, can’t you?”

He didn’t even have to move his hips to have you clenching around him in an intense orgasm. Just the feeling of him writhing and twitching inside you was enough for you to cry out his name, tears falling down your cheeks.

“Shh… shh…”

He pulled you ever closer, nuzzling his porcelain face into your neck.

“Sit still, my pet. It’s not over yet…”

want more? send me a Kofi asking for a part two!

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat

[vampiefemme]

𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 | 𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

description: you’ve been getting closer to ellie lately and, unbeknownst to you, your blossoming crush is entirely reciprocated. cue your first smoke sesh together… and a little something more, too. [modern au, ellie and reader are both over 18]

warnings: weed use, oral sex, fingering. this fic is 18+, minors do not interact.

author’s note: my first ellie fic and my first fic on this blog! pls be nice :) let me know what you think <3

The first few times you hung out with Ellie, she’d offered you a joint. It’s no secret that Ellie’s the town’s top dealer, a welcome sight at rowdy house parties, her backpack stuffed with ziplock bags of the best bud around. You’d tried weed before, had taken a puff or two from poorly-rolled blunts here and there, but you’d never particularly enjoyed it. Mostly, you’d just coughed up a lung and felt nothing but a vague lightheadedness. So when Ellie rolled up a joint the first time you’d come over to her place, offering you a drag after she’d sparked up, you’d politely declined.

Ellie had arched a brow. “You mind if I smoke? Shit - I can put it out.”

Before you’d had the chance to respond, she was already reaching for the ashtray on her nightstand, ceramic and painted to resemble an eight-ball.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you interjected, reaching out and touching her wrist almost involuntarily. You pushed down the flurry of butterflies that erupted in your stomach at the contact. God, you had to be touch-starved or something. Since when did touching someone’s arm make your heart skip a beat?

Ellie looked at you with a guarded kind of suspicion, like she didn’t believe that you were fine with her smoking. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” you said, lips curling into an encouraging smile. “I don’t mind weed, it just doesn’t do anything for me.”

“Huh.” Ellie nodded. She lifted the joint to her lips again and you glanced away, chest tightening from the sight of her lips pursing.

“If you ever wanna try again,” she paused to exhale a plume of smoke, intentionally avoiding your direction, “let me know. Not to, like, toot my own horn or anything, but I’ve never had someone try my weed and not like it.”

You let out an easy laugh. “Okay, we’ll have to see about that.”

Ellie was smiling at you, those green eyes twinkling like so many stars. “No pressure.”

That was months ago, when the summer heat still blazed from sunrise to sunset. It’s mid-winter now, the chill nipping at your cheeks and the end of your nose. To your agony, it hasn’t gotten any easier to breathe when you touch Ellie - when she greets you with a hug and a smile at her front door, you feel like you’re paralyzed with want. And Ellie’s probably none the wiser, of course. You wonder if she’s ever noticed the way your breath hitches when she stretches out on the couch beside you, leaning her head on your shoulder while some tacky eighties film lights up the television screen. You figure she’s oblivious - she’s just being friendly. She probably doesn’t even know you like girls, anyway. Plus, she doesn’t shy away from talking about the girls she’s been with before. You’ve spent more than a few nights seething with jealousy as she recounted her latest hookup, schooling your expression into one of disinterest or even mild enthusiasm.

It’s been a while since she’s talked like that, luckily. You’re grateful you don’t have to feign excitement about Ellie’s latest conquests anymore.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Ellie interrupts your internal monologue, hands still working at the joint in her lap. She’s got a pile of ground-up weed on a rolling tray, sprinkling it into the perfectly-rolled cone like it’s muscle memory. It probably is.

“Nothing,” you blurt, cheeks warming. “Sorry, just zoned out for a second.”

“Oh, bullshit,” Ellie quips, rolling her eyes despite the smile playing at her lips. “What, you can’t tell me? I thought we were friends, cherry.”

You flush anew at the nickname. She’d picked it out for you after you’d scarfed down an entire jar of maraschino cherries one night, after Ellie had bought them for ice cream sundaes. You’d never live that down… But you’re not sure you want to, because every time the nickname leaves Ellie’s lips, you feel like you’re glowing bright red with admiration.

“We are friends!” You nudge Ellie’s shoulder with yours, rolling your eyes with that same playfulness she’d expressed. “Sorry, it’s just - it’s embarrassing.”

Ellie narrows her eyes. It’s like you can see the cogs turning in her head. “Embarrassing? What, you got a crush on some guy or something?”

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, she’s prattling on again. “Y’know, just ‘cause I’m gay doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me about your crushes. Swear I won’t be weird about it.”

Oh god.

“It’s not - I’m not…” You sigh, gaze lowering to your lap, where you’re fiddling with your hands. Should you tell her? You should probably tell her.

“I like girls, you know.”

It’s quiet for so long that you need to look up at Ellie to make sure she’s still there, still listening. And she is; her eyes are glued to you, wide in disbelief.

“What?” You feel like a bug under a microscope with her looking at you like that. “Is it that hard to believe?”

Ellie shakes her head emphatically. “No, no - it’s not. I just didn’t expect that.”

She turns away to finish rolling the joint, twisting the very end of the paper until it forms a little point. “Guess you’re just full of surprises, huh, cherry?”

You bite your lip to stifle a smile, but Ellie sees it anyway.

“So who’s the lucky girl?” She asks, rummaging through her pocket until she finds her lighter. You watch Ellie spark the joint, the twisted end catching fire until the cherry starts to glow. Ellie takes a few puffs and the scent of smoke tickles your nose.

“I’d prefer not to say,” you tell her, chewing on the inside of your lip. Your nerves are off the wall; you’re so anxious that the joint in Ellie’s slender fingers is suddenly tempting.

Ellie scoffs. “Boring.”

She looks up at you as she flicks ash off the end of the joint, and when she notices you eyeing it, her brows lift.

“Want some? Will that make you spill?”

You huff a nervous laugh, toying with the ends of your hair. “No… I don’t know. Maybe?”

Ellie whoops, her free hand curling into a fist of victory. “Fuck yeah. Here, take it.”

She offers you the joint and you take it, but not without a moment or two of hesitation. You will the anxiety away with the thought that you probably won’t feel anything. Ellie watches as you bring the joint to your lips and inhale, praying you won’t cough and make a fool of yourself. Especially not with Ellie watching so intently.

By the grace of some kind of divine being, you don’t cough. Your throat tickles, and you feel emboldened to take one more hit, letting the smoke fill your lungs. You imagine your body relaxing, the knot in your stomach unwinding. You hand the joint back to Ellie and she takes a puff of her own, her lips curled into the faintest little smirk.

“So…” Ellie trails off expectantly.

“God, you’re persistent,” you groan. She just peers at you knowingly from behind a veil of smoke.

“There’s not much to tell,” you say. “I’ve had a crush on this girl for a while now, but I don’t think she feels the same.”

“Have you asked her?” Ellie prompts, flicking ash off the joint.

You shake your head. “No way.”

“Then,” Ellie pauses to take another hit, “how do you know she doesn’t feel the same?”

You should be feeling anxious with her drilling you like this - you know you should. Usually, you’d be retreating into yourself with every prodding question Ellie asks. But all you feel now is yearning; there’s an ache in your chest that only she can remedy. And, clearly, Ellie’s clueless about it.

You don’t want her to be clueless, you realize.

The words leave your lips before you can think better of them. “Do you, Ellie?”

Her brows knit together, forming a crease that you’ve memorized by now - like every other freckle and wrinkle on her face. “Huh? Do I what?”

You reach for the joint and she yields it without question.

“Do you feel the same about me?”

The weed has certainly helped with your nerves, you think, watching Ellie’s expression shift from confusion to realization. Her plush lips part, but all that comes out is a series of stammers and false sentence starts: “I—you—what?”

Fuck it, you think. You stretch out to reach the nightstand beside Ellie’s bed, leaving the joint in one of the ashtray’s notches. A steady stream of smoke ribbons upward from the fading cherry.

“Ellie,” you start, settling back into your place on the rug. You look at her to find her already staring at you, blinking. “It’s you. I have a crush on you. It’s been—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ellie interjects, voice softer than you’d expected.

You blink. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, I guess. And you always talked about other girls, so I thought you just… Weren’t interested.”

“Cherry.” Ellie sits up on her knees so she can get closer to you, the sleeves of her oversized flannel slipping down to her forearms as she reaches out and grabs your face. Her touch is gentle but firm, insistent. You can feel the callouses on her fingers against your skin, her thumbs brushing up against your cheekbones, and the air is suddenly so thin you can hardly inhale.

“I have… I’ve had feelings for you for so long. So fucking long, cherry.” Ellie’s gaze is intense, eyes boring into you. You feel exposed, raw, alive with something electric.

You stare right back at her, frozen in her grasp.

“But you were always talking about other girls,” you say. Doubt lingers in the back of your head; this is too good to be true. Right?

“I know, fuck, I’m sorry,” Ellie sighs. “I thought you weren’t interested in me. Thought it was hopeless, y’know? My perfect best friend having feelings for me? Unreal.”

One of Ellie’s hands smooths over your hair; it’s something she’s done plenty of times before, but it feels different now. More intimate, with your shared confessions between you.

“Wanna know something?” Ellie asks then plows on, not really waiting for an answer, “I stopped hooking up with other girls a while ago. I just… Couldn’t.”

You nod in understanding. Your eyelids feel heavy all of the sudden, each blink heavier than the last.

“They weren’t you,” Ellie adds.

They weren’t you, her words echo in your mind.

“Ellie,” you breathe. Her face is impossibly close; you can pick out every detail of her face. Each pore, each freckle, each fleck of brown in her green eyes. You can smell the weed smoke on her breath.

“Cherry,” she responds, voice hushed just as low as yours. “Cherry. Can I kiss you?”

“God, yes,” you practically whine.

When Ellie kisses you for the first time, she tastes like relief.

Her lips are soft and insistent against yours, the pad of her thumb warm against your cheek as you lean in closer to kiss her back. It’s like time has gone still; the hum of the speaker on Ellie’s dresser fades away, as does the sound of the winter winds hissing and whooshing against the window. All you know is Ellie: her hand slipping down the length of your back to grab your hip, her mouth hot and needy against yours. It’s a desperate sort of kiss, one that you’d both been yearning for, and months of pining drain from your mouth to hers, then back again.

You’re not sure if you’d been kissing for seconds or hours when Ellie finally breaks away, gasping.

“Fuck,” she whispers. The tip of her nose brushes against your cheek, then your nose. “We should stop, before I…”

She trails off but you know exactly what she’d left unsaid. And your stomach flips in response; the mere thought of what else Ellie might do with her mouth has your cunt throbbing.

Ellie’s hand leaves your hip and it’s like she’s left a burn there - one shaped like her touch, a scathing outline on your skin.

“I don’t want to stop,” you find the courage to admit.

You’re not sure who makes the first move this time - only that you’re kissing again, swallowing Ellie’s pleased moans as your tongue prods between her lips. You gasp and pant into each other’s mouths, hands roaming on newly discovered skin; Ellie’s hands slip beneath your tee, her palms hot against your abdomen, your hips, your lower back. When her fingers find the clasp of your bra and unfasten it, you practically shiver with anticipation, back arching into her touch.

“Whoa there,” Ellie laughs, nudging her nose against yours. You go in for another kiss, annoyed that she’d stopped, but she pulls back. “You’re sure you want this, cherry?”

“Please,” you say, taking advantage of the moment to pull your shirt over your head and set it aside. You toss your bra into the growing pile, turning back to Ellie to find her gaping at you.

“Christ,” she says, licking her lips, “you’re fucking perfect.”

She gives you one last heated kiss before her mouth moves to your jawline, then the column of your neck, where she leaves a trail of wet kisses. She sucks on a spot right on the crook of your neck, just shy of leaving a hickey, and your toes fucking curl.

Ellie only gives a low hum of approval at your reaction before she’s moving lower, lower. Her kisses cover your breasts, every inch of skin worshipped by her lips until she finally takes a peaked nipple into her mouth. You feel her tongue swirl against the sensitive bud and you nearly cry from the pleasure, one hand flying up to knot into her hair and tug.

Her gaze moves up to meet yours, and your cunt tightens again at the look of unbridled desire in her eyes - her lids are heavy, too, but you can’t tell if it’s from the weed or sheer lust. Maybe both, you’re not sure, but you don’t have much time to consider it before Ellie’s moving to your other nipple, tongue laving against the taut flesh before she closes her mouth around it and sucks. A ragged moan tears from your throat and you tense, tugging again at the locks of Ellie’s hair in your fist.

She leaves your nipples flushed and sensitive, shining with saliva, and you’re suddenly very aware of the layers of clothes separating you from her. Separating the wetness of your cunt from hers, the bony curve of her hips from your needy mouth. You need those layers gone.

“Ellie,” you whine, pulling at the collar of her flannel.

“Shh, I know,” she coos, voice dripping with syrupy sweet lust. “Why don’t you get on the bed for me, hm?”

You nod and oblige, but not without stopping to slip out of your jeans. You leave your panties on because, well, they’re cute. A white lace thong with a tiny, silky pink bow just below your navel - Ellie’s eyes linger there as she stands at the edge of the bed, unbuckling her belt and stepping out of her cargos. You can feel the wet patch on your panties as you press your thighs together and watch her undress. She’s always been on the thinner side, but as she slides off her flannel and pulls her sports bra over her head, you realize that she’s much more toned than you’d imagined. Her arms flex with each movement and her abdomen is clearly taut with muscle; every inch of new skin she reveals only adds to the agonizing desire churning in your stomach.

Luckily, she seems just as eager as you are. She’s still in a pair of oversized plaid boxers when she grabs hold of your hips and yanks you toward the edge of the bed, pulling your knees apart so she can see what’s between them.

“Look at you,” she says, eyes wide at the sight of your soaked panties. “I didn’t realize you were so needy, cherry. Should’ve let me take care of you sooner.”

Her words send another gush of arousal flooding from your cunt, your stomach twisting. “‘M sorry, Ellie.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she says, lowering herself onto her knees before you. Her fingers hook beneath the lace of your panties to pull them down, leaving them in a crumpled heap on the rug.

Her face sinks between your legs, and the first stroke of her tongue against your folds makes you shiver with relief.

“Oh my god,” you gasp. Ellie moans against your pussy, tongue splitting through your folds, spreading your wetness with every swipe and lick. Your back arches involuntarily, your toes curling in sheer pleasure.

She laps at your cunt like a woman starving, hot tongue drawing circles around your puffy clit. It’s maddening, the way she knows exactly what you need, speeding up and slowing down in accordance with your moans and sighs and whimpers. You’ve never felt so close so quickly, but you don’t want it to stop - her mouth is magic between your legs, and as you hurtle towards your orgasm, she slips a finger into your clenching hole. You nearly scream.

“Ellie,” you moan shakily, your thighs tightening on both sides of her head. “Ellie, I’m gonna…”

She just moans again, mouth working at your clit while her finger sinks in and out of your cunt. She adds another not long after and it’s hardly a stretch with how wet you are. You’re trembling with every stroke of her tongue against your clit, and soon enough, you feel yourself slipping off the edge into oblivion. Your orgasm tears through you like never before, hot and electric, every muscle tensing as Ellie finger-fucks you through every wave of pleasure. Eventually, you push the heel of your hand against her forehead, too overstimulated for her to keep sucking at your too-sensitive clit. She pulls back and sits on her heels, fingers leaving the tight grip of your cunt as she wipes her mouth with her other hand. Your slick covers her from the nose down, the shining evidence of how good she’d made you feel.

“So fucking pretty when you come,” Ellie tells you, standing up and lifting a knee onto the bed beside you. Her hair is a mess, you’d made sure of it, but she doesn’t seem to notice or care.

“Think you’ve got a few more for me?” She smiles at you, wolfish and wicked, and her hand moves to grope at one of your tits.

“Mm,” you hum, reaching out for her. “Only if you have a few for me.”

When she’s close enough, you slip your hand between Ellie’s legs, your fingers brushing through sparse curls to find the heat of her folds. She’s soaked, you realize with self-satisfaction, your tongue swiping over your lower lip.

This will be fun.

[ohbueckers]

HEART OF A WOMAN. i put the blame on me for giving you chance after chance … it’s my mind and my soul versus your pride.

00, PROLOGUE. AND THIS IS JUST THE INTRO.

ju speaks. finished this quicker than expected so thank you to that anon for getting me on it early LOL. find the masterlist link to all parts on my blog. lmk your thoughts! pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. language, angst, toxicity, cheating, etc … general warning!

flashback, april, 2025.

paige: i love you 3:49am

nailea: ?

i love you too

is everything good?

read 4:02am

paige: yeah i’m good baby

missing you ao baD

paige edited a message: missing you

nailea: i’ll see you so soon

i’m sorry i couldn’t make it today

i’m really proud of you

read 4:09am

you’d think by now i’d be numb to it. that i’d learned the script—memorized the lines, the rhythm of it. but as i sit here, scrolling through her saved chats with her, i don’t feel numb. i feel fucking dumb.

it’s not even the months i spent doubting her, the nights i’d start an argument because i just knew she was lying, only for her to stare at me with those wide, innocent eyes and make me feel like the problem. no. it’s knowing that three nights ago, when she texted me after the game, telling me she loved me, that she missed me—that wasn’t real. that was just her guilt talking, a cheap cover-up. because that night, after winning her precious championship, paige found someone else to help her celebrate. and all because i couldn’t be there.

i don’t even have it in me to appreciate the short time she wasn’t doing anything behind my back. we’d had a conversation, a serious one, and it was enough for a bit. but there’s pictures, videos, a few from that night, and i feel sick.

the door opens behind me, and i barely flinch.

“yo, i forgot my—“ my bloodshot eyes meet hers, still holding onto the faintest trace of a smile. she has to notice i’ve been crying. has to see what she’s done.

it’s only been ten minutes. the breakfast spot’s close, maybe two blocks. she must’ve turned around. guilt? instinct? doesn’t matter now.

“nai.”

i glance down at her open phone, and so does she. i can’t see her reaction, but i’m sure it’s anything but pleasant. “oh, i can’t even fucking look at you,” i spit, letting out a breathy laugh as i push myself to stand, heading towards the door.

before i can even take a step, she’s in full defense mode. paige tosses her keys onto the bed with a clatter, closing the door behind her, planting herself firmly in front of it like she’s ready to block my any attempt to walk out. “you’re not leavin,’ bro. hold on.” she furrows her eyebrows, mumbling more to herself as she pulls me away by my arm. quite effortlessly might i add, i couldn’t really fight it.

“move, paige,” i demand. i just want out. want to be anywhere she isn’t.

“nah, we’re gonna talk. sit your ass down.”

“about what?” i laugh, cold and bitter, as i wipe my face again. she’s stupid for thinking i’ll listen to anything she says now, i know that much. “about how you played in my face, yet again? how you kept telling me to trust you when i knew better? or maybe we’ll talk about how the second i wasn’t here, you went right back to her.”

she wasn’t special. she isn’t. i’m sure paige doesn’t even know her middle name. she was just… there. someone to sex her up the way i couldn’t from across the country. it wasn’t like we didn’t see each other every chance we had, but i’ll be damned to let her live a double life. i wish i wasn’t so in deep.

paige steps forward, her hand reaching for mine, eyes softening in some pathetic attempt at damage control. “look, it was one night, alright? it was a mistake, nai, you gotta chill.”

chill.

i yank my hand back. “how many times does one night happen with you, huh?” i squint. “because this isn’t just one mistake, paige. this is you, every time.” the word tastes sour, and i spit it right back at her.

i’m not a doormat. i’m not one of the girls paige bueckers happened to pick up on her way to the top. i was here from the very beginning, and i couldn’t fathom how that wasn’t enough for her. all you could ever want is to grow into love with someone, but paige and i only go backwards, and i don’t think i’m capable of sitting around and letting that happen anymore.

paige’s mouth twists, some shadow of remorse that’s barely visible as she shifts from foot to foot. her hair’s still tousled from last night, strands falling across her forehead, a disheveled mess that somehow makes her look both beautiful and utterly wrecked. it makes my stomach turn—how i’d been unknowingly in the same spot as another girl just a few days ago, her hands roaming through that same hair, leaving their mark where mine should have been.

“let me get it right this time then.” paige’s head tilts back slightly, her eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that’s almost hypnotic, like she’s daring me to believe her, to give her yet another chance. i hesitate, against all logic, caught up in her. for a second, the anger knots itself up, caught in my throat, tangled in the remnants of whatever feelings she hasn’t managed to destroy.

we just stand there, inches apart, eyes locked, her breath barely steady, mine coming in tight and shallow. her hand lifts again, just slightly, as if she’s about to reach for me again, and i feel that familiar pull—like i’m right on the edge of giving in, of letting her words undo the mess she’s made.

my eyes glance down at her phone in my hand, and i can’t help but think about how sick i am of fucking words.

before i can second-guess myself, my hand jerks forward, and i launch her phone across the room. it skids across the floor, clattering against the wall, and she turns at the sound, head lolling against the door.

paige’s hand slides down her face as she lets out a low, humorless chuckle, her shoulders slumping back. her gaze flicks from her phone again, undamaged but undeniably thrown by an angry girlfriend ex, and then back to me, all narrowed. “you throwin’ my shit now?”

“fetch it. matter fact…” paige’s mouth opens, then closes as she watches me rip her oversized tee off like it’s some dirty rag. the shirt hits her chest and slides down to the floor, and she just stands there, staring at it with her jaw clenched so tight i can practically hear her grinding her teeth. “you can take all your shit back with it. i’m done,” i seethe.

paige looks back up, scoffing. “oh, you’re done?”

i turn on my heel, making my way to my suitcase. paige doesn’t move as i fall to my knees, throwing one of my own shirts over my head. i’m packing my things up frantically, silently, and i can tell it makes her feel unsettled.

“you’re not leaving, nailea.” she doesn’t sound so sure of herself now, and that only makes me move quicker.

i sniffle, even though i’m way past being sad over this. “i’ll stay with az until i can catch a flight. and i’ll ship all your stuff to storrs once i’m back.” i’m declaring my plan out loud, though i’m sure the mounds of her belongings that’ve accumulated in my apartment over the years is the last thing on her mind.

but then she moves, steps around the suitcase, stopping me with a quiet urgency, her fingers reaching toward my face. i pull back instinctively, turning my head, but she follows, her hands slowly cupping my head, steadying me as if i’m the one slipping. “paige, stop.” i mutter, shrugging my shoulders, trying to shake her off. but her fingers tighten, her eyes softer, pleading.

“c’mon…” she whispers. and then, slowly, she sinks down to her knees, meeting me there, her eyes desperately searching mine.

i swallow, hard, stopping my movements. “quit—“

“lemme fix it.” she mumbles, the words laced with something i can’t decipher, something that might’ve been real if it didn’t come too late.

i look up, and for the first time, i see something that almost looks like panic in her eyes. her thumb is focused on tracing the tear streaks on my cheek, and i have to force myself to think about why they’re there in the first place. because of her.

i don’t give her a chance to say another word. “you should’ve thought about that before there was anything to fix,” i say softly.

i turn away, reaching to grip the zipper of my suitcase. the metallic sound rips through the quiet, and it’s the finality of it that makes it feel like the right choice, like i actually just let go.

but with paige, nothing ever stays that simple, that clean.

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Interstate 40 | Tyler Owens x reader

Requested by anon / Summary: You go into labor. 

A/N: Hope you enjoy! Thanks for requesting. xx

Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912

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! Warning: child birth, blood, pain !! 

You were out at the barn, filling the chickens feed and water when Tyler stormed into the barn. You’re pretty sure you saw smoke coming out of his ears, his face red. 

“What the hell are you doing?” He asks immediately taking the scoop from you, “you’re supposed to be resting! Doctor’s order!” His eyes are large as he stares at you. 

You wave him off, “Tyler come on, I’ve been doing this the entire pregnancy. Nothing new to me.” You yank the scoop back from him, “I was going stir crazy laying in bed.��� 

You were 9 months pregnant, 39 weeks to be exact, ready to go into labor at any time. Your body was ready, but baby Owens had yet to say they were ready just yet. Your doctor had told you to take it easy after a fainting spell. Everything checked out, baby Owens was perfectly healthy and your doctor gave you the green light to head back home and get some rest. 

Tyler had took this very seriously, making you stay in bed, and insisted on waiting on you hand and foot. He’d only left you alone for an hour to run into town to get groceries. 

“What if something happened out here while I was gone? huh? What if you fainted and hit your head or something?” 

You sigh, seeing his point, “I’m sorry.” You frown, “but Tyler, really I was going crazy. I needed to do something.” 

“knit the baby a blanket. Something where you’re not on your feet.” He grabs your shoulders, leading you out the barn. 

“Tyler-” you groan, “you know I don’t know how to knit!” 

“Perfect time to learn then.” 

As the two of you near the porch, you get a cramp in your stomach. It wasn’t too strong, but you noticed it. “ooh.” You clinch your eyes shut, placing a hand on your stomach, and bending over slightly.

“What? Oh god, is it time? See I told you-” 

“Tyler, chill.” You take a deep breath, the pain easing. “I’m sure it’s just Braxton hicks. I’m fine. I’ve been having them every little while.” 

“are they consistent?” 

You shrug, “I honestly don’t know. I haven’t paid too much attention. That’s the first one that's been more intense.” You start up the stairs of the porch. 

“You could be in labor.” Tyler says following you, “We probably need to head to the hospital.” 

“I promise I am not. We’ll know for sure when it's time.” You sigh, taking a seat on the rocking chair. 

“You’ll let me know if they get worse right? You know the nearest hospital is an hour away.” He warns. “You have to let me know in time. I am not delivering our baby on the side of the highway.” 

~ 

“You told me they were Braxton hicks!” He argues. He’s currently speeding down the interstate, swerving in and out of traffic. People are honking left and right. 

You let out a scream, hand gripping his shirt in one hand and the other on the grab handle. 

Tyler screams with you, in full blown panic mode. You were still 45 minutes away from the nearest hospital. Your water had broke a little bit ago and soon after that the contractions began to get more and more intense, and closer in time. Your labor was progressing fast. 

You’re doing your lamaze breathing, trying to stay calm, “I’ve never been in labor before, how was I supposed to know I was actually in labor?!” 

You groan as another wave of a contraction hits, “Tyler something-” You reach down to feel, bringing your hand back up, fingers covered in blood. “S-Something is wrong.” 

Tyler glances at your hand, his heart drops, face going pale. if something happens to you.. or the baby. He’d never forgive himself. He shouldn’t have left. He should have forced you to go to the hospital earlier. His foot goes heavy on the gas, engine revving loudly. 

A new feeling shows itself, “I feel like I need to shit-” Your eyes are wide, staring at Tyler. “Tyler- oh fuck I’m about to have this baby on the side of the god damn interstate, aren’t I?” 

“Don’t panic-” He knew enough from hearing stories to know what that meant. That was the key indicator baby was coming and it was coming NOW. “but yes.” 

“oh my god!” 

He’s immediately pulling the truck to the side, horns blaring as he cuts someone off. He comes to a skidding stop, jumping out of the truck. He’s throwing the door open on your side in a split second. Now it’s him who is calm. He’s rolling up his sleeves, pulling out his phone to call 911. He’s delivered a calf before. Same thing right? 

“I am NOT having this baby in your truck!” Your panicked eyes find his calm ones, shaking your head. “I can wait until the hospital.”

“You have no choice.” He helps you slide out of your pants in the seat, simultaneously telling the 911 dispatcher what’s going on, your location and gathering supplies he needs. Where did this calm, collected Tyler come from? He was panicking only 30 seconds ago. 

You scream, a searing pain felt down below. 

Tyler peeks and sees a head full of hair, his eyes widen, “you definitely can’t wait. baby is coming now. push baby-” 

It only took one push before Tyler caught the baby, laying her on your chest and drying her off with a towel. “it’s a girl!”

Emotions are running high. Tears are being shed. You’d just given birth, Tyler delivering your daughter. Your heart drops; she’s quiet on your chest, “Why isn’t she crying?”

“Come on baby girl-” He finally stimulates her enough and she lets out a loud cry. It triggers more tears from both you and Tyler. A sigh of relief. 

Tyler’s kissing you through the tears, “You did so great baby.” A proud smile on his lips as he stares at his two girls. He cups your face in his hands, “That was fucking amazing.” 

~

The EMS showed up not long after, checking over you and the baby. Both healthy. They get you on the stretcher, your baby girl wrapped in a blanket in your arms. As the emotions of your baby being earth side, the reality hits you. You gasp, “Tyler.” You cover your mouth in shock. 

“Hmm?” He hums, looking up from your daughter. 

“I just gave birth to our daughter in your truck on the side of the interstate.”  

He chuckles, “Yeah you did. That was more bad ass than getting caught in the middle of a tornado.” 

~ 

Don’t know how I feel about this one. I had a whole vision but writing it out proved to be difficult. 

Comments, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 

[killakalx]

17+ content, blank blogs dnf

gunplay, bit of a gory description, hate sex, degradation, brat taming, throat fuck, ruined orgasm, arkham knight gear stays on, reader is a vigilante. a/n at the end :p

the arkham knight’s watched you long enough to know how you operate; your favorite moves, how you approach the enemy, how you talk to the enemy. you’re reckless and actively searching for a thrill out in gotham. and in turn, he gets his fun in tearing you down. the tone you tend to take with him is testy more often than not, and he waits until he’s got one thread of patience before he disarms you of your boldness. then he continues. on from the shield to the armor, then digging into bare skin just to fuck with you. to humble and embarrass you.

“you think you’re so cute,” he mutters with an agitation about him, gothamite accent still coming out thick through the voice modulator. “you like this shit? me fucking you ‘til this pussy’s all sore?” the look on your face is helpless, tears swelling in your lashes and gasping at the bruising grip on your hips. he’s burying his cock to the hilt and pulling your little sense of decency out with it each thrust, and still, you’ve got the nerve to test just how quickly he’ll break you with a little more incentive.

“I think-“ you start, though you’re temporarily interrupted by your own moan. “I think you like this.” your hand clutches onto any part of his gear when he responds with a harsher fucking, legs trembling and still trying to shit talk him. “just a fucking brute looking for an- mm- an outlet.” the deep laugh that comes from the depths of his throat is threatening, accompanied by a grip on your hair that yanks your head forward.

“look at that,” he orders, chin forced against your chest and making your throat tighten as you mewl. “look who’s leaking all over my cock like a cheap whore instead of patrolling and say that shit again.” and because you like this little game, you do. it’s an attempt to psychoanalyze him, to get in touch with his own self loathing and provoke something deadly.

“always so angry,” you whisper, “don’t know anything other than that.” your words start slurring together, but the somehow condescending tone is still there to tick him off more. now his pace picks up and a gloved hand rudely gropes your chest, almost like a handle as he pistons into you. even through pathetic whimpers, you manage, “I bet this bloodthirsty act is-“

“all you do is bark, huh.”

in a matter of seconds, the brutish tendencies spill. your body’s slammed into the mattress and your head jerks, light stinging in the back of your head suggesting that you’ve hit the headboard. and with the cool steel he’s slipped down your throat, you’re reminded that the blood thirst is a bit more than an act. he does it as if he’s throwing you a bone, pacifying you, the rowdy little thing that just wants something to chew on. it makes you choke with wide eyes, barrel of the gun shoved into your mouth until you feel his finger on the trigger brush your chin.

“i’d shut that damned mouth,” the arkham knight warns, “y’can’t council me with a bullet in your neck, doc.” he’s stopped fucking you to let the silence after a bone chilling realization disturb you, but your body betrays you- you can’t help how you tighten around his cock at the position you’ve put yourself in. it takes everything not to move your hips as you pant over your ruined orgasm, the tingly feeling you get from fucking your boss’s first priority target behind his back. it’s teetering away and replaced with repulsive guilt, but only for a mere moment.

“you’re a fucking joke,” he chastises, “think about it- if I pull off that bloodthirsty act… all it takes is a bang, then you’ll be drownin’ in my color.” he speaks with desire, as if he looks forward to it. the drag he adds to the ‘bang’ is complemented with a rigid scratch in your throat as he pushes it further down, just to hear the sorry gasp of fear you give him. “that turning you on?”

it is. desperately, in fact. such a crude and gory picture’s been painted in your mind, yet he makes it sound so poetic and unique to himself. the imagination can be terribly vivid; so much as a flinch of his finger and the sheets are dowsed in your blood—no, like he said, his color—while you choke on the metallic taste similar to the one sheathed between your lips now. less vividly, but real, you see him, clad in chest plates and thick cargo material, nothing but a digital glitch from the helmet while he’s got you speared on his cock and gagging on his handgun.

“ngh-“ you sputter, spit dribbling around the metal as your dilated pupils are met with a blank red stare. what was intended to be a no is presented as a yes, cunt twitching when he fucks the pistol into your mouth. much to your dismay, he likes the look on your face, and the gun slides out of your mouth after he leaves your pussy aching without an orgasm. deciding against words, you whine, limp on the mattress and easily dragged to the floor on your knees.

he’s yanked on the cute little ponytail you only wear for nightly duties, making you pout. it hurts- but there’s no point in saying that. he knows. that’s the idea; letting you know that you’ve yet to deal with anything near his full potential of brute strength because this is his bare fucking minimum. “I was gonna do this first,” the agitated grin in his voice is evident, smacking the head of his cock on your tongue as your mouth hands agape. “but I thought I was being nice by fucking everything outta that pretty little head.” you’d had half a mind to start sucking at the tip, but he beats you to it by shoving your head down, groaning as you gag against his happy trail. “hell, I’m still being nice- I bet this dick feels way better than a bullet.”

your hands search for abandon before weakly hooking onto his thigh straps, bracing yourself for what anyone could piece together as pleasurable torture. your pretty lashes flutter through your cowl, stained with dark eye make-up and tears. “y’look a lot more pathetic like this, doll- who knew that was possible, huh?” the arkham knight has you utterly broken, and he feels you’re no where near humbled yet. ❧

a/n ;; woahhhh porn w/ plot who cheered??? this is kinda piggybacking off of this anon I received referring to my first fic for the arkham knight, shout out to that nonnie :). as always rbs and commentary are appreciated, i hope this was up to par, ty for reading <3

[spencerreidenjoyer]

stress relief | spencer reid x reader

wc: 3k, rating: explicit/18+

warning/tags: established relationship, face fucking, blowjobs, vaginal sex, submissive!spencer, whiny!spencer, insecure!spencer (just a little, more like awkward lol), confident (and insanely horny) fem!reader

a/n: i'm back with more pwp!! surprise!!! i have no excuse. i wrote this in about 2 days. i needed to get it out of my system i think this spencer (s3-4) is crazy and perfect and i need him. also thank you for 100 followers on this little reid blog of mine! i hope to keep writing more on here <3

(p.s: you can find this fic on ao3!)

When you get on your knees between Spencer’s legs, looking up at him with wide eyes that spell sin, Spencer knows he’s in for a wild ride.

“You’ve been working too hard, Spence,” you say, shaking your head, speaking like you’re talking about the weather and not like you have a hand on his crotch, steadily stiffening under your touch.

You watch Spencer’s throat bob as he gulps. He blinks quickly, once, twice. “Yeah? You think so?”

“I know so,” you hum, fingers already toying with the button of his work slacks. Spencer had gotten home late from work tonight, but was still fretting over the stacks of reports on his desk in his home office in the apartment you share. After dinner, you’d convinced him to lounge on the couch for a bit, instead of getting back to work – leading you to where you are right now. “I think you need to relieve some of your stress.”

Almost like he’s nervous, his tongue darts out to lick his lips. “What are you thinking?”

“Orgasms release endorphins which contribute to stress relief, no?” You parrot the fun fact Spencer’s told you countless times, a small smirk on your face. As if your hand gently palming his cock hasn’t made your intentions more than obvious.

His eyebrows raise. “Oh. Yeah. Okay.”

“Wow, you could at least sound a little more enthusiastic about your girlfriend giving you head.” You deadpan, but you pop the button of his slacks anyway.

Spencer squeaks. “Sorry. I– I really want you to blow me.”

“I know, darling,” you coo, pulling down the zipper of his fly slowly, feeling the hardness of his cock pressed against it. His underwear is a bright pink when it gets exposed. You chuckle to yourself. “Cute."

Spencer flusters, laughing nervously. “Oh my God. I kind of forgot I was wearing those. Haha. Sorry."

“Baby,” you frown slightly. You’re not mad, not in the slightest, just amused with how he’s acting. You place your hands on his thighs, pausing with any of the action. “Why are you sorry? I think you’re so cute, you know.”

“My head isn’t on straight right now,” Spencer sighs, shaking his head. “I just want– Like, it’s going to be good for me, obviously, because you’re so good at this. I don’t need to want anything. I just– Want this to be good for you too.”

“It’ll be good for me if you stop overthinking it, Spence.” You smile. “It’s chill. Also, when do I not enjoy sucking your cock?”

Spencer covers his face with his hand, but you see him smile, laughing to himself. “You’re so crude, y’know? But I suppose you do really enjoy sucking me off.”

“I know.” You chirp. “And I do."

Your hand is down Spencer’s pants before he can even tell you to go ahead, but he knows that you know he wants it. Spencer hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, taking them off. His cock jumps up and you watch, fascinated with the obscenity of it all. Spencer’s cock curves up towards his stomach, reddening at the tip already.

You wrap your hand around his hardening cock, as you start to jerk him off. He lets out a high-pitched whimper, like he can’t control himself, and he cups a hand over his mouth. His eyes are wide as he stares down at you. You giggle, “It’s cute.”

“It’s kind of embarrassing,” Spencer says, his face a little red already.

You pout. “Come on, Spence. It’s really hot.”

His hand falls from his face to his lap, coming up to cup your cheek gently. “You like it?”

“You’re so sexy.” You nod. “Of course I like it. Now, make those noises for me again, pretty boy.”

Spencer squeaks as you tighten your grip around his cock, eyes fluttering shut as you stroke him. You work him up to full hardness – not that it takes very long for him to get there. You flick your thumb over the head of Spencer’s cock, tease into his slit where he’s steadily leaking already. His precome makes everything slick and sticky, easing the slide of your fist over his length.

Your eyes flit between Spencer’s face and his cock, marvelling at the growing mess in your hand and how his face is slowly but surely revealing his pleasure. He’s flushed, lower lip pulled in between his teeth, as you watch his chest rise and fall. His gaze pierces you, the intensity of how he looks sending shivers down your spine.

Knowing Spencer’s looking down at you, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, pressing it flat against the tip of his cock. Spencer lets out a strangled breath, eyes bugging out at the erotic sight of you between his legs. You wrap your lips around him, suckling gently on the head of his cock. You hope to make Spencer lose his mind like this. With the way he’s breathing heavily, lips parted as he takes in all of you, you think it’s working.

His whines are more frequent, accenting his hard breaths. You see how Spencer doesn’t know what to do with his hands, watch as he digs his nails into the flesh of his palms, and you instead hold him by his wrists to put his hands in your hair. The weight is comforting, and encourages you to sink down on his cock more. You take more than half of him into your mouth, but Spencer being… well-endowed meant that you often never were able to fit all of him in, unless you were in a particular mood.

The tip of Spencer’s cock hits the back of your throat, once it’s slid in. You gag at the intrusion, and Spencer lifts you off of him, slightly freaked out. “Are- Are you okay?”

“Baby, please,” you sigh, endeared but annoyed at the fact that he’s getting in the way of his own pleasure. “Trust me with this. Just focus on feeling good?”

Spencer’s brows furrow slightly, lips drawn into a little pout, but you nod to soothe his concerns. “Spencer, I want you to use me–” You stick your tongue out to lick at his length again, making him shudder. “–Just like this.”

“You want– You want me to…?” Spencer trails off, unsure if he’s picking up what you’re putting down.

“Fuck my face, Spencer,” you say bluntly, tired of flirting in circles. It’s fun flirting with Spencer, because it’s fun to fluster him when he isn’t expecting it, but right now, when he isn’t getting the hint, you need to lay it all out for him. “Use my mouth like a fleshlight. Whatever you want to do. Please.”

He inhales sharply, stunned at your explicitness. He pushes his hair back, out of his face, taking the time to process… everything. His gaze is tender, though, as he gently cups your cheek. “Okay. Yeah. I can do that. But if you don’t want it anymore, you– You have to let me know, okay?”

You smile up at him, pleased that he’s finally letting some of his inhibitions go, even if he still seems hesitant. You pat the side of his thigh thrice. “I’ll do that if it’s too much.”

“I love you.” Spencer says softly.

“I love you too, Spence.” You hum. “Now hurry up and fuck my face.”

“Jesus, you’re so crude,” Spencer laughs. He leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. Pulling back, he guides his cock to your mouth, the head of his cock pressing against the plush of your lips. His mouth is open when he looks at you like this. He whispers, “Fuck.”

You open your mouth to take him in, like you were before, sinking down inch by inch, until he’s comfortably settled in the back of your throat. Spencer doesn’t move to fuck your face yet, so you make the first move. You bob your head up and down on his length, making sure your mouth is wet and slick as you suck him off. He lets out a moan, hand fisted in your hair.

And here’s where it starts: You slow on his cock, and Spencer, finally taking what he wants, pushes your head down onto his cock for more. You gag slightly. Spencer pulls your head back up, pushes you back down. While you appreciate how much he cares about you, him putting his pleasure first in using you like this makes your toes curl.

Spencer’s cock in the back of your throat is not uncomfortable, not yet, but Spencer steels himself to fuck your mouth and you find your veins thrumming with adrenaline. Spencer’s first thrust is exploratory, cautious. He’s nervous, or it at least feels like it when he fucks into your mouth. You would tell him off, but your mouth is kind of occupied right now. Instead, you glance up at him, and hope that your gaze tells him to just fuck me.

One arm against the backrest of the couch, Spencer thrusts into your mouth again. He gasps. Chasing his own pleasure, his eyes flutter shut as he fucks your mouth. His thrusts are shallow, desperate, hurried, but his mouth falls open in stuttered, eager moans. He’s so gorgeous.

You’ve never heard anything so perfect, the way Spencer moans, the way he cries out your name. You press your legs together to stave off the arousal building between them. You feel like a mess, Spencer’s hand making a mess of your hair, Spencer’s cock making a mess of your mouth. You think spit is probably all over your chin right now, but he’d probably think you still look great anyway.

Spencer gasps, out of breath as he whimpers, “I’m– I’m close, I can’t–”

He fucks into your mouth once, twice more, before slumping back down onto the couch. There’s a slick, wet ‘pop’ as you pull off of Spencer, pouting slightly. “You know I’m happy to swallow, Spence.”

Spencer laughs, tired, and explains, “I know you do, dear. I just don’t think I have it in me to come more than once. And I really want to come inside of you.”

His words make you blush. Spencer doesn’t get too explicit too often, so hearing him say dirty things always turns you on. You reach up to wipe yourself clean, but Spencer’s already ahead of you with a tissue pressed to your face, gentle as he wipes your mouth and chin.

After cleaning you up, he helps you up off your knees and onto the couch. You’re both still clothed, sure, but Spencer’s boxers and pants have been pushed down to reveal his cock; you must be even more of a mess, hair rustled and face messy, and the desperation that makes itself clear at the sight of the both of you makes you giggle.

Spencer smiles at you. “What are you laughing about?”

“We must look insane right now,” you laugh. “We’re not even naked yet and we’re like this.”

“Well, I think you look beautiful,” Spencer says earnestly in a quiet voice, his hand tucking your hair behind your ear. Spencer’s touch is gentle, it always is, and especially in stark contrast to the way he’d fucked your face, just like you told him to. “My lovely girl.”

“Spence,” you purr, nuzzling into his hand as he cradles your face. “Love you.”

“I love you too.” Spencer’s answer is immediate, certain, and it makes you acutely aware of how turned on you are.

“I love you so much, and I really need you to fuck me right now.” You look up at him, watch as his face warms from serious to amused. You shift away from him slightly on the couch, but use the extra space to spread your legs. “Use this pussy, baby.”

Now, he presses his finger to his temple, shaking his head playfully. “Your mouth is filthy. You’re filthy.”

You grin. “Aww, Spence, at least tell me you like it!”

He leans forward to kiss you, hard and eager and desperate. You moan into the kiss, as his hand is pressed into the small of your back. You run your hand through his hair, where it’s starting to curl past the nape of his neck. When he pulls away, he says, looking deep into your eyes: “I like you. And your filthy mouth. Now let me fuck you.”

You giggle, wildly turned on as his long, deft fingers push your shorts and panties off. He kisses along your neck as he does so, then lays you back on the couch, and his thumb rubs circles into your inner thigh softly as he regards you, admires you. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

“You are too,” you say, awed, as Spencer takes off his nerdy little button-up. His body is perfect – not skin-and-bones skinny, but there’s a healthy litheness to him that you appreciate, especially when you’re grabbing at him while he fucks you. “Want you right now.”

“I know,” Spencer hums soothingly, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Come on, love.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watch, slack-jawed, as he wraps a hand around himself. His eyes flutter shut as he strokes himself, but he quickly snaps himself back to reality: guiding his cock in between your legs. He presses the tip to your clit, messy and glistening with your slick, and rubs against you in circles. You moan, feeling a little pathetic as you rut your hips forward to find any more pleasure like this.

Now, he presses the head of his cock to your hole, teasing, pushing it in slightly before it slips back out and spreads more of your slick across the rest of your cunt. You whine, pouting up at Spencer. He coos at you, “Okay, okay.”

Finally, he’s settled against your hole, the blunt head of his cock pressing into you excruciatingly slowly. It’s exhilarating, feeling him feed his cock into your hole, feeling him stretch you open, feeling like you were made for each other. He holds your leg up so he can press up closer to you, feeling so full as he puts his cock inside of you.

“Spencer,” you moan when he stops moving. “Fuck me. Just like earlier.”

”Okay, love.” Spencer nods, trails his hand down your waist and hips, down your thighs. “My gorgeous girl.”

Spencer thrusts into you, the first one sending electric pleasure through your body. He always loves to do it like this, make love to you slowly, intensely rocking into you until you feel all his love. You always do, but you don’t want that tonight. He knows that’s not what you want tonight.

When Spencer starts fucking you, his hips have gained a steady rhythm, your skin slapping together obscenely. It’s so wet between you two, where he’s pressed inside you. He fucks you hard and fast, eyebrows furrowed as he chases his own high. He’s so fucking cute, even while naked and trying his best to make you feel just as good as he does. He’s panting and groaning, your own moans mixing in with his. He knows you want him like this, hard and fast and messy.

You can’t form a coherent sentence, only able to babble and cry out for Spencer, for more, and you cling onto his arms as he pounds into you. You’ve never felt Spencer like this before. Sure, he’s always eager to please, doing whatever makes you feel good, but him going so hard, just like this, just the way you want makes you feel so needy, the both of you feeding off of each other’s desperation. All you can focus on is Spencer’s skin touching yours, the in-out slide of his cock, the slapping of skin on skin, the wet, slick noises of his cock fucking in and out of you.

“Cumming, Spence, I’m cumming,” You cry out needily, desperately, and you moan when he presses his thumb to your clit. He flicks at your clit in rough, hurried little circles. The pressure is cruel but just what you need for your release, and your whole body shakes as you orgasm. The high is so good, a different type of pleasure coursing through your veins.

You clench around Spencer, your cunt like a vice grip on him. Moaning loudly, his hips are stuttering as he comes inside of you too. He fucks out whatever momentum’s left in him, but pulls out quickly and gently, because he knows how fast you get overstimulated afterward.

He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth, then presses his lips to yours. The kiss is soft, sweet, tame, unlike the depravity you were engaged in before, and the juxtaposition makes your head spin. Spencer, who is usually such a sweet, soft guy, being able to fuck you so hard and fast until the couch was creaking underneath you. You suppose that’s what he’s capable of when you ask. You like it. You wonder what else you can ask him to do. You think he’d do it in a heartbeat, knowing him.

“That was amazing,” you giggle breathlessly. “Spence, you’re a madman.”

”For you, my dear,” Spencer smiles. “Anything for you.”

You snuggle into his side, resting your head on his chest as you lay on the couch. You’re both sticky and gross, but you’re sure Spencer will be more than happy to clean up later. Right now, you’re just pleased to be cuddling your boyfriend.

”So, do you feel less stressed out about work now?” You ask, after a moment of comfortable silence.

”Well, I certainly wasn’t thinking about work,” Spencer laughs. “You know, some sociologists believe stress can be caused by positive events too? I think you cause me stress, but it’s good stress.”

”Watch your mouth, genius,” you snark playfully. “You’re lucky you’re cute enough that I’d take being called a stressor a compliment.”

“I love you,” Spencer sing-songs.

You roll your eyes, but can’t help the stupid grin that forms on your face. “Yeah, yeah.”

[loveharlow]

headcanon for jayj😜

s3x when they were at pougelandia and the pougies catching them

idk why but this has been on my mind sorry if this is weird

SEX IN POGUELANDIA

smut/mentions of smut, 18+

•° not discreet. at all.

•° you'd been stranded on the island for weeks and you didn't think not having sex would bother you but...

•° something about this island made jj ten times sexier

•° and he was ungodly sexy before.

•° you two had been trying to keep it pg, considering you were out in the jungle and surrounded by all your friends

•° but when the opportunity reveals itself, who were y'all not to take it?

•° the group had split up in pairs, going to look for food or fresh water, anything to aid survival, really

•° you and jj happened to stumble across a beautiful waterfall, like stunning scenery + water? what could be better??

•° the both of you bottled up some of the clear liquid before jumping in, the water cleansing your dirt-caked bodies almost immediately

"is it bad that i kind of want to stay here? it's so beautiful..."

•° then he's behind you in the water, whispering in your ear

"i can think of something more beautiful than this."

•° and normally, you'd laugh at his flirting but the words and his breath on your neck sent a chill down your spine that settled...somewhere else

•° before you know it, you were both butt naked and dripping wet, fucking on the most uncomfortable rock known to man

•° it was probably the most dumb teenage idea you'd ever had - unprotected, outdoor sex while stranded on an island

•° but after weeks of barely touching or anything, you were both bursting at the seams for some kind of intimacy

•° you didn't even realize how loud you were being...the both of you.

"oh...fuck, jj!"

"i know, baby, i know..."

•° you'd have a village of small cuts and bruises on your back later but it was all worth it for the feeling of him spilling inside you as your walls contracted around him

•°...which probably wasn't the best idea either

•° jj was still inside of and on top of you when you heard them

"dude, what the fuck?!"

"are you guys serious? this is supposed to be an expedition! not a free porno service for whatever birds and shit are out here!"

•° you and JJ cursed, laughing and scooting away from each other as you covered yourselves and looked for your clothes, still getting scolded by the rest of the group

"you probably just alerted bears and shit to where we are, you freaks!"

©loveharlow.

heads up: i added emoji anons to my blog, so feel free to send an ask to take one if you frequently send in asks!

[evieolo]

Scary Movie

Bf!Chris x Reader

A/N: I lowkey hate this but just wanted to get it over with :/ but yk! Day 1 of kinktober done and hoping my next fic will be 10x better (and actually out on time) but I love u guys and all the love on my blog lately so xoxo hope u enjoy my lil Chris smut

CW: SMUT!! / p in v / fingering / dom!chris

"Keep your eyes on the movie and nobody will notice"

“Press play,” you hum, sinking into the plush cushions of the couch as you plop down. There’s a crisp open-window chill in the room, one that screams October, only making you want to cuddle closer to Chris.

Your boyfriend languidly swings his arm over your far shoulder, pulling you closer to him in one fluid motion before switching the channel from the kiddish film Coraline to The Conjuring.

You turn to him slowly, peering at him with an unasked question as his fingers hover over the play button. “I thought we were watching Coraline?” you mutter in confusion. Chris rubs his thumb over your shoulder in a soothing motion before speaking. “We watch Coraline every year, baby. We can switch it up for once, hm?”

The words roll off his tongue in a way that compels you to say yes, but you were never one for horror movies.

“You know I don’t like stuff like that,” you frown, but Chris kisses your forehead and pulls you onto his lap, not-so-subtly coaxing you to say yes.

“I’ll hold you the whole time, yeah?”

You bite your lip and nod, hesitantly agreeing to watch the movie.

Chris chuckles, noticing the adorable hesitancy. He presses a chaste kiss to your neck before starting the film and pulling you closer.

The movie never settles. Between the eerie music, noises, and scenes, your mind can’t catch a break. The only thing grounding you is Chris’ arms around your middle, and the gentle squeezes he gives your waist every time a small gasp of shock slips past your lips.

You finally relax when the movie goes silent, closing your eyes for a moment until you’re pulled back to reality by a harsh scream through the television speakers. The loud noise jolts you, the scene from the horror film practically scaring you out of your skin.

“Jesus, baby,” Chris breathes out with a chuckle, pulling your body back against his chest as the adrenaline from the scare drains from your body.

You let out a huff of air, allowing yourself to relax against Chris for comfort.

This doesn’t stop: the constant jump scares, the constant flinching, your constant movement—and Chris develops a newfound stiffness.

He can’t focus as you move against him, the small bounces and hops you do strike the wrong chord. He’s so close to you, his skin is touching yours, yet, he wills himself to be patient. Watch the damn movie.

“Stop jumpin’,” Chris mutters after another scare, his voice filled with an unknown husk.

You shift again, your legs brush against his as you try to get comfortable in his lap. “Sorry.” You mutter out.

Chris is suddenly hyper-aware of where he is, his sweats feel soft, the sofa feels stale and suddenly, he’s aching for more of your touch. He lets out a near growl as you shift against him, placing his palms on your hips in a bruising grip to hold you still. “Don’t move,” he says sternly, as if you’re a disobedient child.

“Sorry,” you say meekly. “I didn’t expect that one.”

Chris releases his tense grip on your hips and nods slowly. “Like you didn’t expect the last one?” he teases with a smirk, his hot breath nipping at your ear as he leans forward to speak.

Soon enough, you jump again, and while Chris wishes he was feeling sympathy for you, he isn’t. Every time you get frightened, you bounce slightly, and your ass presses against his clothed dick. He’s willing himself not to get a boner, but he can’t help it; you’re practically grinding against him every time you readjust yourself.

Chris lets out a sharp breath, his body tensing as the suspense builds in the movie yet again.

“Baby, see how the music gets low an’ how the screen gets all dark?” Chris quizzes, you hum in acknowledgment before he continues, “That’s how you know there’ll be a scare soon.”

You nod in acknowledgment, but even preparedness doesn’t stop you from reacting to the next scare.

You shriek, your entire body flinching. Chris tries to ignore how your hips push back when you flinch, how your thighs move, creating heated friction between the two of you that only he senses. His breath hitches as, once again, your ass brushes against his clothed boner.

“Baby,” he breathes into your ear, “you’re killing me.”

Your heart thuds in your chest as his hot breath prickles your ears. You’re suddenly very aware of the tension between you, his body hard against yours. His pants feel tight, and his body is willing him to do something.

His teeth graze the exposed skin of your neck. He barely gives you time to process what he’s doing before he’s sucking on the supple skin below your ear.

You let out a low breath, the air puffing off your tongue in a swift exhale.

“Chris?”

“Just relax. Forget about the scary movie,” Chris coaxes, dipping his fingers under the hem of your shorts. “I’ll make you forget about the scary movie.”

Your breath hitches as his fingers drag down, further and further, and as you slouch against him, you feel his erection against your thigh.

Shit.

Don't Move.

That’s why he said don’t move.

“Fuckin’ tease,” Chris nearly scoffs as he presses two fingers to your clothed core. A small gasp leaves your lips at the friction and you find yourself wanting more.

“Didn’t mean to—tease,” you whine, wishing you could see his face.

“Just a scaredy cat then, huh?” he mutters, dipping his fingers under the fabric of your panties. He makes contact with your clit for a mere second before pulling his fingers back again. “You’ve been rubbing yourself against me all night,” he says with a husk that almost makes you feel sorry for moving.

“I didn’t—” your breath hitches as his fingers tease your heat again, “—mean to.”

Chris moves his fingers in lazy motions. It’s clear by his movements that his only motive is to tease. He wants you to experience what he did—to endure friction without pleasure.

You try to grind your hips up, thirsting for the pleasure Chris denies, but in a swift motion, he moves his fingers just an inch out of reach, painfully frustrating.

“Chris,” you whine, your heat aching for some form of pressure.

“Say sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“For ruining my movie,” Chris growls.

You let out a small whine, putting your pride aside. You’re desperate for him, and it’s blatantly showing. “I’m sorry,” you choke out, his hand in your pants intensifying the situation tenfold.

“For?” he inquires, and from the tone of his voice, you can tell he’s cocking an eyebrow.

“For ruining your m-movie,” you stammer as his fingers start to move, this time with precise actions.

“Good girl,” Chris smirks, and finally, the fingers that had been tantalizing you slip inside your needy hole. You let out a loud moan and lean your head back onto Chris’s shoulder for support.

”Fuck I-“ You reach out, unsure of what your reaching for until you grip a couch cushion, holding it tight in your fist for a sense of security.

Chris doesn’t move fast, restricted by the panties you’re still wearing, but his fingers go deep, and fuck, it feels good.

As your breaths start to pick up, Chris brings his unoccupied hand up to caress your face, brushing loose hairs out of your face as you start to come undone.

“Faster… please,” you beg. You’re at the brim of pleasure; the slow pace isn’t enough.

Chris taps your hip twice. “Lift up for me, pretty” he mutters, looping his fingertips around the hem of your shorts. You oblige, lifting your hips just enough for Chris to slide the two pieces of fabric off your body before you’re back on his lap.

“Think you can take me?” he mutters, nipping a kiss at your neck.

You nod eagerly. “Yes, please, yes.”

Chris slips out from under you, leaving your bare legs against the couch cushions. You let out a whine of protest, missing the comfort of his body against yours.

He stands, hovering over you. His gaze is lust filled as you watch greedily, unable to tear your eyes away from the way his boxers strain against his hard cock. He pulls his boxers off and his cock springs free.

“Please,” You murmur.

He lets out a low, guttural groan, his hand stroking himself briefly as he takes in your needy expression.

Crouching down to your level, Chris slings your leg over his shoulder, his fingers grabbing at the plump flesh possessively. Wordlessly, he lines himself up with your entrance, his eyes meeting yours as he teases your folds with the head of his cock.

And with no warning, he thrusts into you, filling you completely. “Mmph! Chris!” you gasp, moans bubbling off your lips without a second thought. His angle is so good, so deep, but it seems his only intention is driving himself to pleasure.

“Take it,” he rasps, a small groan escaping his lips.

His free hand gropes your side as he makes a mess of you, the lewd sound of moans filling the room as you're pushed further and further into the couch with every harsh thrust.

“Chris…” you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders as you struggle to keep your grip on reality.

Your back arches off the couch as Chris shifts his position slightly, his hips snapping harder against yours. Your hand fist the cushions beneath you, your knuckles turning white as you gasp.

“Mm! I’m—cl-close!” you yelp, gripping the sofa cushions like a vice.

“I know you are,” Chris grits out, leaning further forward as he pushes your thigh further back on his shoulder, folding you in half as he fucks you relentlessly. His cock drives deeper and deeper, hitting your gummy spot with each thrust.

You lean your head back completely, legs shaking as your orgasm crashes over you. Your body spasms, velvet walls fluttering and clenching tightly around Chris’s cock.

Chris lets out a deep groan, his hips stuttering as your tightness drags him to his own climax “Tryna’ milk me dry,” He gasps out, burying his face in your chest as he reaches his climax, pulling out and spilling himself onto your shaky thigh.

You pant as you come down from your high, looking up at Chris with a cloudy gaze. He pulls his head off your chest, lifting your suspended leg off his shoulder with a dazed grin.

“Movie’s over.”

—

🏷️@cherib3lla @luverboychris @fratbrochrisgf @sturnzsblog @sharksworldd @fratboychrisera @chrissypoosworld @suyqa @bxtchboy69 @slutniolo @lovesodakid @shluttformattnchris @eliana-4200 @sophsturns @skxnnyprincess @angelic-sturniolos111