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evie-sturns · 2 months

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𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙙𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙥 - 𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨 𝙎𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙤

summary: you, the sturniolos, madi and nate are all going on a roadtrip down to new jersey. execpt theres one problem, there's not enough space in the car. you're forced to sit on chris's lap for the 5 hour car ride, you just can't seem to get comfortable though.

contains: smut, teasing, dom!chris, swearing, fluff.

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the sturniolos have been my closest friends for a while, especially chris, with who ive have grown closer then ever to over the past few years. today is the day that my friend group travel down to new jersey for the summer break.

12:36pm

"y/n get your ass down here!" chris calls out from the driveway, i stumble over, clutching my baby pink suitcase with one hand as i swing open the door of chris's bedroom, which i've slept in last night.

i sprint downstairs, my suitcase smashing into walls behind me while i lock eyes with madi. i run up to her and a loud laugh escapes her mouth "oh my god your suitcase is basically bursting at the seams."

"shut up, im a chronic over-packer." i joke, walking downstairs into the driveway. matt, nick and nathan are watching chris strategically stack suitcases in the trunk. chris's tounge is slightly peaking out of his mouth as he concentrates.

"can we fit one more?" i say chirpily, walking over to the group of boys while dragging my suitcase behind me. chris takes it off me, sliding into its designated spot between the various bags.

"okay tetris king" nick scoffs, jumping in the passenger seat of the car.

before i know it, everyones piled into the car. matt in the drivers seat, nick in the passenger, madi in the far-right backseat, nathan in the middle and chris on the left backseat.

i open the door to the car, theres no more seats.

"oh fuck me." i mumble, folding my arms and waiting for someone to speak up.

"she could go ontop of the car, grip onto the windshield." matt suggests with a smirk on his face, earning a elbow to the bicep from nathan, who leans foward.

after a few more seconds of silence, i break it. "i could try fit in the trunk, theres a little room ontop of the suitcases.."

"y/n no. thats not safe, i dont care you can sit on my lap." chris says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

i nod, pursing my lips as i crawl in the car, planting myself down on chris's lap. my cheeks instantly flush.

i've never thought about chris romantically, hes always been a platonic best friend. i know he doesn't like me, he doesn't really like many girls in general.

"chris.. im gonna be too heavy." i mumble, purposley putting a small amount of my weight on his lap.

"don't be an idiot." chris chuckles, grabbing my hips and pressing me down, forcing all my weight on his lap. i clear my throat, "are you sure i don't want to squash you."

"hey, i said don't be an idiot." chris says, sitting back in the seat comfortably.

3:21pm

we've been driving for almost three hours, i've been just laying back on chris's chest, resting my head back on his shoulder with my eyes shut. nate, madi and nick have been in a debate for an hour if hot or cold pizza is better.

its been entertaining to say the least.

after nick and nate draw the debate to a close a new conversation sparks up from madi.

"have you guys ever fell off the waterslide platform?" she says, a silence fills the car.

"you know how you have to climb up stairs to get up to the waterslide, and you wait on the little platform to wait your turn to go down?" madi questions, we all nod slowly.

"yeah have you guys fell off?" madi continues.

"madi..." matt says from the front in a low voice, i can hear the smile on his face.

i errupt into giggles, my body vibrates on chris's lap as i lean foward, taking my back off of chris's chest.

everyone else in the car laughs, including chris. his lap lightly bounces up and down with each noise that comes out of his mouth, causing me to shift out of place.

i shimmy my ass back into a comfortable position on chris, an audible groan escapes his mouth, my eyebrows furrow and my head snaps back to look at chris, his cheeks are flushed, as soon as we lock eyes he looks out the window, squeezing his eyes shut out of sheer embarrassment.

"chris," i whisper, looking over my shoulder at him. "whats wrong am i too heavy.."

just then i feel something poke my upper thigh. my eyes pratically bulge out of my head as i stare at chris. everyone else in the car is too engulfed in their own conversation to notice me and him.

"im really sorry." chris squeezes out, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"its just your shifting on my lap, i can ask matt to pull into a gas station and ill fix it in the bathrooms-" he rambles quietly into my ear.

"don't worry about it chris!" i say smiling, shifting side to side on his crotch while maintaining eye contact with him.

"stop that." chris mumbles, the tent in his sweatpants growing by the second.

"you like it christopher."

chris's breathing picks up, "fuck."

i press more of my weight down onto chris's bulge with a smirk, i turn back around to face the back of matt's seat, continuously grinding into chris.

i suddenly hear chris’s voice from behind me

“how much longer do you guys reckon we have left?” he asks, his voice wobbling slightly.

“honestly like 20 seconds, we’re pulling into the street now” matt awnsers from the front, him and nicks eyes still concentrated on the road ahead as madi and nate cackle with each other

i continue rubbing chris with my ass, i feel two large hands grip my hips, holding me still harshly.

i pout as i look over my shoulder at chris, his response sends chills down my back.

“i will take away your ability to walk as soon as we’re alone.” he whispers into my hair from behind me.

we swing a left into the long driveway of the beach house we’re staying at, it’s two stories and looks modern to say the least.

as soon as the car stops chris throws me off him out of the door of the vehicle, speed walking up to the front door and unlocking with the key he just retrieved from the mailbox.

i watch as he disappears inside “where the fuck is chris?” i hear nick say while pushing up the trunk door. “he had to pee really bad.” i lie, knowing he ran to the bathroom to help himself out instead.

matt hands me my suitcase with a smile, and i walk up to the front door, which is already half open from chris. i walk upstairs to the room chris and i already decided we would share, long before the road trip ever started.

im met with a double bed, along with a window with a clear view of the beach. i get changed into the sluttiest skirt i can find and a long tank top before walking downstairs, i pull my phone out of my bag to check the time.

6:13

all of my friends are playing cards around the wooden dining table, but chris is sitting on the couch alone, scrolling on his phone. a loud cheer comes from nick as he slams down his card onto the table.

i flop down next to chris, my skirt flapping up slightly. “whatcha up to?” i ask innocently, acting like i wasn’t dry humping him a hour ago.

“nothing just instagram.” he replies placing his phone down on the armrest before looking over at me, locking eyes with chris sends butterflies through my body.

chris quickly stands up, taking my hand and pulling me upstairs, he slams the door to the bedroom shut behind us

“what were you doing in the car hm?” chris taunts, grabbing my wrists and pushing me down onto the bed.

“grinding up on me, giving me a painful erection around all my friends?”

“mmhm..” i groan backwards as chris grabs my chin, forcing me to look up at him as my back lays steadily on the bed.

“did i ask you to do that.” he says, staring into my eyes “or did you just wanna be fucked so badly that you couldn’t wait.”

i was in a state of shock, the good kind of shock though. my bestfriend of mutiple years has me pinned to the bed.

“gonna act like a slut, gonna be treated like one. got it?” chris mumbles, practically tearing my skirt off of my body. he yanks my panties down to my ankles in one motion.

chris pulls my body to the edge of the bed, my legs are wrapped around his waist as my heat presses lightly against his crotch. suddenly he bends down between my legs and blows cool air directly onto my sensitive clit, earning a groan of pleasure and desperation from me.

"more.." i manage to squeeze out, "you're gonna get more." chris says, standing up from between my legs and yanking down his sweatpants to his knees. "be quiet for me yeah?" he groans, rubbing his throbbing tip through my folds.

"i will stop if you get too loud okay?"

i nod frantically, spreading my legs open as far as they can go, revealing myself to chris.

his breathing picks up "ready..?" he stammers, his words incoherent.

"please.." i sigh out shakily, gripping the bedsheets in my fists so tight my knuckles grow white.

with full force chris slams inside of me, bruising my cervix. a loud yelp escapes my mouth as chris looks down at me, some-what checking if i'm okay.

i feel myself stretch around his length, the burning sensation still present. chris grips my hand, intertwining our fingers before thrusting in and out.

i feel each vein of his cock press against my insides. his thrusts grow sloppy and unhinged. strings of moans escape my mouth, chris slams his free hand over my mouth, shoving a finger inside in the process.

i clench around chris, before the knot in my stomach snaps he pulls out, "chris!" i yell in frustration, feeling empty. "shh sh." he shushes me, flipping me over onto all fours,

"quit making noises gorgeous, or none of this will happen again."

he pushes back inside of me, a familiar feeling. i let out a hum of pleasure as chris pushes on my mid back, arching my back. the sound of skin slapping fills the room as i bury my head in the pillow to muffle my sounds.

"good girl.." chris's voice his croaky, his dick twitches inside of me, signalling he's close.

i clench around him for the second time this evening, the pit in my stomach releases with a scream of his name.

chris pulls out, painting my back white "fuuckk..."

he collapses down beside me, pulling me onto his chest with a long hug. "you okay?" he whispers into my hair, his voice breathy.

i nod against his neck, he taps my hip "should we get you changed?"

i hum in response, chris sits up, holding me in a bridal position and walking over to the heaped pile of clothes on the floor, he sets me down on my feet my legs are numb and weak causing me to stumble over.

"careful there." chris laughs, holding me up. "okay, just step through.." he says, pulling my panties up my legs. the rest of my clothes follow, he steps back proudly before pulling up his sweatpants and throwing a shirt on.

"you look cute" chris smiles stupidly, nudging my elbow.

we both walk back downstairs, the rest of the group are scattered in a circle on the floor, playing monopoly. we go sit down and join our friends, the whole time chris is staring at me like he wasnt inside of me 4 minutes ago.

(2 weeks later)

it's the last day of our holiday, me and chris have had a few makeout sessions on the beach, alone. we haven't hooked up again, both realising it's too risky to do in a beach house with 4 other people in the small house.

I'm sat on the grass next to the driveway, observing as chris loads up the car strategically. before i can open my mouth to make a snarky comment about chris's concentration, matt, nick, madi and nate swing open the front door, all their bags in hand.

they all pile into the car again, chris follows, slamming the trunk door shut and jumping in, a small smirk tugs at my lips as chris pats his lap for me to sit down.

i sit down on his lap, nostalgia washes over me, remembering the outcome of last time i sat on his lap in this exact spot.

matt pulls out of the driveway,

its not even been 5 minutes and i'm already grinding on chris through his shorts.

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omfg i really hope yall liked this, i think one of my best so far, also dont come for me if new jersey isnt a beachy type state, i have NO idea about states my bad, js pretend it is.

@lovingchrissposts @lolasturniolo @ilovedasturniolos

#nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #chris x reader #christianity #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo smut

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bookofbonbon · 4 months

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christmas kiss - coriolanus snow.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader.

Summary: A drunken Coriolanus has a particular Christmas gift request of you on Christmas day.

Word Count: 1.3k+.

A/N: Merry Christmas! Just a bit of light-hearted fun. No hidden or dark motives. Technically based within the "You Keep Him There" universe because it was easier to just take the background from there but, it's during their first year together and she's still very much in conflict with her own feelings.

Coriolanus Snow is drunk.

Drunk and clingy.

It’s simultaneously endearing and disturbing. Endearing because you think there is a certain cuteness about him when he’s drunk; disturbing because it makes you think there is a certain cuteness about him and as far as you were concerned, cuteness and Coriolanus simply did not belong in the same sentence together.

It makes you dislike him more - more so, when he insists on squashing himself in between you and the couch’s armrest despite there being room for an entire other body beside you - on the other half of the couch.

Drunk and clingy.

“I think that was a rather successful first Christmas gala, don't you?” he smiles, completely ignoring the fact that he’s half on top of you.

“I suppose,” you grunt, pulling yourself out from under him and standing.

It was time for bed.

“Wait- where are you going?”

He follows you like a lost puppy.

“To bed, Coriolanus,” you tell him stiffly. “It’s almost midnight.”

You don’t wait for his response. Climbing the stairs two at a time, you don’t bother to look back at him or say good night, instead making haste for your bedroom, your safe haven.

You couldn’t do drunk Coriolanus Snow. You didn’t like his vulnerability or sweetness, his wide eyes and handsome smiles, his easy laugh and pink tinged cheeks. There was no room in your heart to like him and that is exactly what drunk Coriolanus could do, make you like him.

You feel yourself immediately calm once you enter your bedroom - thankful that the two of you agreed that the separation of sleeping spaces would be for the better - however, when you turn he’s standing at your door.

When the hell did he get there?

As if he can hear your thoughts, he says, “the elevator is faster than the stairs.”

You make an ‘O’ with your mouth - of course it was. It had just been put in a couple of days ago, you’d completely forgotten that it was there.

“Right, well.” you compose yourself. “Goodnight, Coriolanus.”

“Wait, no-”

His hand blocks your door before you can close it, an exasperated look on his face and you’re sure, on yours too.

“Coriolan-”

A loud groan emanates from deep within his throat - you back away in caution, he better not throw up on your bedroom floor - followed by an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

“Coriolanus, coriolanus,” he mocks, pulling a face. “You know you don’t have to use my full name every time.”

“Fine, Coco,” you smile, saccharinely.

“What? No! What the hell is Coco?”

“What? Yes! You’re what the hell is Coco” you mock him this time. “What do you want, Coco?”

“Don’t call-” he pauses, thinking for a moment “We’ll discuss that name later, right now I want to discuss my Christmas present with you.”

“What?” you almost laugh disbelievingly.

“No. Christmas presents are not up for discussion. I buy you something, you buy me something and either we like it or we don't and if we don’t then we pretend that we do,” you dismiss him and go to close the door again but it's blocked - by his foot this time- again.

“I want you to kiss me.”

This time you do laugh.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” he folds his arms stubbornly. “I don’t want whatever’s wrapped under that god awful green tree downstairs, I want you to-”

“I kiss you all the time,” you snap.

“No, I kiss you all the time. You never kiss me.”

“I kiss you back.”

“But you don't initiate, you never do” he practically whines. You're surprised he doesn’t stomp his foot too.

“And what makes you think I’m going to start now?”

You could, you absolutely could but, why give him the satisfaction?

“Why not? It’s Christmas, spirit of giving and all that and I want you to give-”

“Fine,” you cut him off. Needing him to stop talking so, you could think - cogs turning in your head.

“Fine?”

"Just a kiss, right? That's all?"

"Just a kiss, that's all," he confirms.

It’s not as if you’d never initiated a kiss with him on purpose, you just weren’t in the business of making first moves when it came to him. It didn't bother you to kiss him - you just didn't know if it was something he wanted. It was impossible to tell, not when he acted one way in public, another in private and another… when drunk.

“But, if we’re making Christmas gift requests then you have to ask me sober,” you negotiate.

“What?” his face blanches, as if he’s seen a ghost. “That’s not fair, it’s Christmas now.”

“It’s Christmas now and Boxing Day tomorrow, when presents are actually exchanged so, if you want your kiss, you have to ask me tomorrow-”

He begins to grumble, “Whatever. There’s only five minutes anyway left till Bo-”

“And sober! You will not be sober in five minutes!” you speak over the top of him. “Now… I’m going to bed and so should you.”

You finally close the door.

You go about your morning routine as usual, Coriolanus nowhere to be seen- not even as afternoon approached and you readied yourself for lunch with your mother’s side of the family.

Perhaps he’d dug himself a grave and instead, went to bed there, out of embarrassment. You breathe a laugh at the thought.

Gathering your things, your sensible heels click against the marble floors as you make for the front doors - an avox helping you into your coat and then opening the door for you.

You clear the landing - and almost forget about the stairs - when the undeniably alive voice of Coriolanus calls out to you as you finish descending the several steps.

He’s dressed for gardening, having obviously been in the greenhouse with his roses this entire time - not the type of gardening you were hoping he was doing.

“Leaving so soon?”

He looks at you with a lopsided grin, not a hint of hangover in the air - probably a result of one of those little experimental concoctions he’s always working on - as he walks toward you, pulling his gardening gloves off and handing them to a nearby avox.

“Not so soon, it’s midday…” you trail off.

He’s close, too close, he smells like roses and dirt - it makes your stomach flip because of butterflies or because you’ll be sick, you don’t know.

“I believe you owe me something.”

“I thought you wouldn’t have remembered, you were very drunk last night.”

“You thought wrong.”

He smiles handsomely, like one of his drunken ones-

“Are you still drunk?”

He laughs, the sound is stupid.

“No, very much sober as were the conditions.”

"You still need to ask."

"For Christmas," he says slowly. "I want you to kiss me."

“Okay,” you shrug and step closer to him.

You can see the way it confuses him but, you don’t let him dwell on it. Placing a hand on his chest to steady yourself, your breaths intermingle as you bring your lips closer to his. There's a searing heat on the small of your back as he pushes you closer to him - if he presses you any closer, you think the two of you might become one. You brush your nose affectionately against his, feel his heartbeat heavy beneath your hand and at the last minute, you veer to the left and press a kiss to his cheek.

Pulling back quickly, you step out of his reach, leaving him a floundering mess as he comes to terms with what you had just done.

After a minute, he says “that was not the deal!”

Offended and perplexed but, even you can see the hint of a smile on his face.

“It wasn’t not the deal. You said a kiss, you never said where,” you laugh, walking backwards to the car and getting in.

“Details, dear Coco, it’s all in the details!”

You don't hear him laugh but you can see his body shake with it.

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coryo snow #coryo x reader #coryo snow x reader #tom blyth

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moongreenlight · 6 months

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John ‘Soap’ ‘won’t take no for an answer’ MacTavish

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

You break up because of his work, not because you don’t love him anymore. It feels unfair that he’s always getting dragged away for work and that you’re expected to sit and wait him out. You make the mistake of saying the two of you could stay friends. Truly not thinking much of it. A real right person, wrong time situation. He takes it as more of a challenge.

You sometimes worry he doesn’t think the two of you are broken up. Still invites you out for drinks twice a week when he can. Squashes you both into one side of the booth so he can throw his arm around your shoulders and nuzzle into the crook of your neck. He only has one beer, but keeps ordering you cocktails and encourages you to drink up to soothe your nerves. You think it’s a coincidence the first few times when you’re too drunk to drive and he insists you come stay the night at his place. He’ll drive you home in the morning.

You try to tell him you’ll sleep on the couch just so the lines don’t blur. He just smiles and nods and continues jabbering on about nothing. It doesn’t take him long to get handsy when he’s stopped at a red light. Spreads his hand over your thigh and fusses with the hem of your skirt. You don’t think you’re stopped at the light for very long, but by the time it turns green again he’s already pushed your panties out of the way and stuffed two fingers inside of you. Talks over your moans and soft keening noises and tells you that he’s glad he was with you tonight. Could have been picked up by some sick bastard because you never did know your limit.

“‘S’alright, dollie. Always got a place with me.”

He stops working his fingers a heartbeat before you’re about to come. Pulls them out and licks them clean after he parks out front of his flat. Doesn’t bother helping you out of the car, just lets you stumble after him in a haze.

You’re convinced the sex is somehow better than when you were dating. He ebbs and flows between being sickly sweet and meaner than you’ve ever seen him. Shoves you down on his bed and immediately tucks in on your cunt. Cooing directly into your sex about how he’s missed her. She’s so pretty. It’s cruel of you to keep him from such a pretty pussy.

He strictly fucks you in positions that ensure he can see your face. Clamps down on your chin and forces you to look up at him when he’s splitting you open. Doesn’t let you come on his cock unless you’re saying his name and making eye contact. Pulls out while you’re trying to clench around his length if your eyes roll back. Gives you a mean pinch to your nipple and smacks your clit a few times until you’re teary and begging for him.

Sometimes he flat out refuses to put it back in unless you say you love him. Runs his cock through your soaked folds and leaves you to whine and cry under him for a few minutes until you take the hint and slur some cockdrunk nonsense about how only he can fuck you like this. You miss him. You still love him so much.

This drives him insane. He takes your words to heart. Convinces himself he just needs to try harder to get you back. If you’re saying all this, then he’s still got a chance. He’ll bury himself deep into you and piston his hips with no further regard to your pleasure after that. Bottoms out inside you and still somehow tries to fill you further when he paints your walls with his release. Bites down hard on your shoulder or your neck and leaves a sickly yellow bruise around the indent of his teeth. Snarls in your ear about how he knows you still need him because if you didn’t then you wouldn’t be letting him do this. Marks you like he still feels a sense of ownership.

After the first dozen few times, you sit him down and try to tell him that you can’t do this anymore. It’s making things too hard on the both of you. He smooths your hair and kisses away your tears on his couch. Shushes you sweetly when you sniffle and go on about how you wish things were different. He fucks you more gently that night before you leave.

#cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #141 headcanons #moongreenlight #moongreenlightwrites #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish smut #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap smut #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap mw2 #drabble

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moondirti · 8 months

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warnings: smut, afab!anatomy, unprotected p-in-v, eye contact, breeding kink, dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), biting, hickeys, drooling, literally a good for nothing thirst, pwp

Miguel O'Hara likes to watch your face as he fucks you.

Doggy style and cowgirl are good 'n' all, don't get him wrong. There's a particular way to them that allows him to hit parts of you inaccessible in any other position. But Miguel O'Hara likes to watch your face as he fucks you – sandwiched between your spread legs, rutting in missionary – because nothing gets him going like the subtle unravelling of your expressions. The manner in which your brows screw up, or the tears that droop your lashes. How glossy your lips get with the spittle you've no energy to swallow, drooling, fucked silly on his cock.

Yeah, if he had it his way every time, he'd choose to be real up close and personal, his full weight on top of you. Nothing gets him going like when your noses touch one another, your jaw captured in his hand. He holds your head in place because he knows how flustered you get with constant eye contact, all demure in spite of the wanton moans he thrusts out of your chest. So, you're either a shy thing or his attention is too intense, severe reverence pouring from carmine irises onto every tenuous reaction. The room, your shared space, heady and sweltering hot with sex.

And he never misses a thing. He sees the way your teeth clench when he pinches your clit, ignited by the strict pleasure. He sees how your cheeks cringe, pull, drop, when he plugs you with his cock, siphoned into stillness by your spasming slit. And when he whispers filthy promises onto your chin, mouth pressed there in a perpetual kiss – gonna fuck you full, corazón. my pretty girl, clever girl. gonna cum into you and lick it clean. you'd like that, hm? uhuh. yeah, i see you. i know you would – he revels in the hot bursts of breath that fan across his cheeks. He's always close enough that he can feel, not just hear, your moans.

That's the thing. Miguel likes panting in tandem with you – warm, dry palm smoothing the matted hair off your cheek. He's always infinitely more composed, though. A thin sheen of sweat glazes his bronzed skin, and his cock is slick with both your juices, but he still manages to keep his wits about while you hardly remember yours. They're always honed in on you; how you respond, what you like, what he does that draws the loudest scream. He peppers your face in kisses and nips the fleshier bits. He nuzzles the plane under your jaw. He keeps his efforts almost exclusively focused on your head and cunt, equally divided amongst the two, and it's only on the rare occasion that he ventures away from either.

To take a nipple into his mouth, maybe, tongue lapping at the pebbled peaks. To lay hickeys over your chest – a personal favourite past time when the rise and fall of it is another indication to your enjoyment. To drag his fangs softly on the soft expanse of your tummy. He always makes good on his word, so he eats you out like your pouring into him will quench him for weeks, stuffing his face on puffy folds and refusing to come up for air.

All the while, though, his eyes will remain trained on you. They never left. He props your neck up by a pillow so your expressions are still accessible to him, and when he moves gradually down your body, they're focused upward through dark lashes. If you squint through the foggy pleasure that obscures your vision, you in turn can recognise the subtle smirks he makes at every ministration. The sniffs when you cum on his lips for the umpteenth time. The lewd wet of his fingers when he sucks them in preparation for your needy hole. He scissors them into you, stretches you enough, then dives back up to squash a bruising kiss to your lips as his cock finds its way back in again.

Because he can't forget the other component of his promise, of course – to pump you full of his seed. It's so much, an hours worth of build up, straining his heavy balls from the moment you started. He humps you until every last drop is adequately milked from them, groaning into your mouth as his tongue wrestles yours. It's hard to breath with his body pinning you down, all broad shoulders and defined muscles, and the unrelenting attention battering you into something stupid – yet the hypoxia only adds another intoxicating angle to the mix. You have to make the decision between stopping for air or taking him in in all his vigour.

And, more often than not, it's the latter. It's the least you can do after all he's given you, after all.

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jamdoughnutmagician · 1 year

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All The Way Down.

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Female Reader

Summary:Bucky reminds you just how much of a super-soldier he really is.

Warnings:Smut, 18+, Oral Sex (F Recieving), Face-Sitting, Mentions of shitty past ex-boyfriends, Dirty Talk, Bucky eats pussy for his own pleasure

Word Count:1,232

Authour’s Note: I kinda wanted to try to get back into writing for Bucky since I hadn’t done so for a while so it might not be the best writing but it’s here and it’s filthy, so there’s that

also this is for all my fellow thick-gals who just want a super-soldier bf to tr-eat them right.

MASTERLIST

When it came to you, Bucky was insatiable. He was perfectly happy to be spread out on the bed on his stomach, with each of your thighs thrown over his shoulders whilst his tongue and fingers worked their magic on your pussy.

When he was in one of those moods, then there was very little that would be able to separate him from you.

And tonight he seemed to be in that particular mood, as he licked his tongue through your folds, gently as he helped to ride out the aftershocks of your second orgasm of the night.

“Doll..Want you to sit on my face…please..” he mumbled as he placed sloppy kisses to the inside of your thigh.

That was something that, until now, you had been avoiding. He’d politely asked you about it before, trying to get from you what he so badly desired. You so far had swatted away his advances with a kind smile and a little white lie that you had been too tired. You’d always assumed that you were too heavy, and past boyfriends and hook-ups had been less than kind to you when it came to how to handle a bigger girl in the bedroom. So from then on, you tried to save yourself the embarrassment and opted rather to either lay back or to be on the giving end of pleasure.

Bucky couldn’t lie, your rejections had hurt his pride, but he couldn’t help but feel like there was a reason why you didn’t want to do this with him, and it wasn’t because you were too tired.

His mind ran through all the times you’d been together in the bedroom (and the few occasions outside of the bedroom too) and all the things that you’d done together, when he suddenly came around to the thought that not only had you never ridden his face, you’d also never been on top of him. That wasn’t right, he thought to himself. That needed to change right away and he was going to get you on top of him one way or another.

“It’s okay, baby, you don’t have to do that.” you say sweetly as you run your fingers through his hair from between your thighs.

“No, I know I don’t have to do it, but I want to. Want you to ride my face, Sweets.” he says with such a sweet earnestness that it almost breaks your heart with how much he loves you and wants to please you.

“Buck, please…” you say as you withdraw your legs from over his shoulders and pull them up to your chest, sitting at the head of the bed.

“I’ve never pressed you about this, I’ve never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable, but you’ve never wanted to be on top..like ever…and I just have to ask, why?” his steely grey-blue eyes looking at you in question.

You felt safe with Bucky. Safer than you had ever felt with any of your past boyfriends. He was sweet to you, and he deserved the truth.

Huffing out a breath to steady your nerves you looked at your boyfriend before speaking.

“I know I’m not the daintiest of girls, okay? I’m bigger and heavier than most girls, and I guess past boyfriends always made me feel insecure about being on top.” you explained.

Bucky listened carefully as you talked through your feelings.

“So, just to save myself the embarrassment and stop the insecurities creeping in, I always decline to get on top. I know most guys aren’t going to enjoy being squashed underneath me” you chuckle that last part, trying to lighten the mood.

“I’m not most guys, Doll.” He says to you confidently.

You look at him, not totally understanding where he was going with this, so you let him continue.

“It seems as though you’ve forgotten that your boyfriend is a super-soldier, Doll.” he smiles “I promise you I’m strong enough to handle anything you throw my way, and believe me when I tell you that I would be happy man with a pretty thing like you sat on my face. I wanna fuckin’ drown in you, sweets.” he finishes, his voice dropping to a seductive growl and coming over to you to place a hungry kiss on your lips.

Looking deep in your eyes once more, he gives you a cheeky wink before laying on his back stretched out with his head resting on his hands

“C’mon dollface, what are you waiting for? Your throne awaits.” His cheeky charm never fails to make you blush.

You make your way over to him, cautiously swinging your leg over his body until you were straddling his chest, hovering over him.

“My face is up here, Sweets” he says, tapping his fingers to his chin to prove his point.

You shuffled further up his body until you’re hovering over his face, and you could see his lazy smile between your thighs.

You feel both his strong arms wrap themselves around your thighs, the contrast of the warmth of his hand and the metal of his other hand is a strangely grounding feeling that you welcome wholeheartedly.

“I said sit on my face, sweets, none of this hovering, I want you to sit all the way down.” he growls before he locks his arms around your thighs and pulls you close.

His tongue ran the length of your pussy, lapping up the dripping wetness of your arousal. He was tasting you as though he was a man starved, the rumbling vibrations of his moans and groans sending shivers down your spine.

Suddenly you found your hips rocking themselves against your boyfriend's face, the tip of his nose nudging at your clit had you letting out shameless moans above him.

You can feel his cheeky smirk underneath you.

“That’s it sweets, ride my fuckin’ face…Taste so fuckin’ sweet…” his words are slurred as his tongue drinks you in.

He flicks his tongue over your clit a few times, before swirling around and then moving to suck it between his plump pink lips. The feeling of his scruffy beard against the soft skin of your thighs is a pleasing burn as your thighs clench themselves around his head.

Your hands have found themselves tangled in his hair, thankful that he had chosen to grow it longer again, needing something to ground yourself as you found your head swimming with pleasure.

He knew you were close, he’d seen you desperate for release many times before, he continued tonguing your clit as you whined above him.

“Fuck…Baby Please..feels so good..”

“That’s it doll, let go for me, sweets..let me taste you..” he slurs continuing to help you roll your hips over his face.

It all felt too good. Too good and too much. The tightening knot in the pit of your stomach snapping, and your orgasm rushing over you as your hips slow to stuttering movements. His tongue laps slow stripes over your wet cunt as you come crashing down from your high.

You swing your body to lie next to him, your chest heaving with breaths you break the silence that had fallen between you both.

“I do believe it’s my turn to return the favour, Sarge” you say sweetly as your lips begin kissing a trail down his toned abs.

“Well…I ain’t ever gonna say no to that, Dollface.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky smut #bucky x reader smut #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader fanfic #bucky x plus size reader

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usedtobecooler · 2 years

Note

Another virgin Eddie idea - g spot stimulation with reader/squirting ❤️

anons stay giving me a reason to continue this saga on, my god. you know how to grasp me!

pairing | eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), squirting, fingering f receiving, mutual masturbation, praise kink

word count | 1.5k

a/n | as a fellow water cannon this request jumped out at me quite literally and i couldn't rest until i wrote it. this is set in between parts 2&3 of our series so eddie is currently still (mostly) a virgin.

How this began is hazy to you in your current state of pleasure, two fingers deep in your cunt and thumb rubbing over your clit lazily as your eyes drink in the sight of Eddie quickly and tightly fisting his cock across from you.

It'd started as a dare almost, you egging Eddie on to touch himself in front of you like he would watching one of his old porno tapes that you just knew he had stashed somewhere in his trailer. You just didn't expect him to actually do it.

His bed was small and you were almost knocking knees even though yours were bent up almost at your chest and he was also somewhat squashed, thighs spread slightly to leave you some kind of room.

You're naked from the bottom down, you'd made quick work of shoving down your own jeans and panties to make Eddie feel more comfortable. To begin with you'd simply done it so he had some kind of material to work with, but you got so riled up from watching him that you couldn't resist touching yourself too.

"God, even with your own hand wrapped around your cock it still looks massive," You gasp, crooking your fingers to rub against that spongey spot, keening into your own touch and arching your back.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, head thumping against his headboard, at this point unable to look at you any longer because he knows he's going to blow his load so quick. His cock looks angry and red, begging for release as it shines with a mixture of precum and your spit - you'd grabbed hold of his hand and spat directly into it, wanting to help him along.

"Hey, pretty boy, look at me." You demand, kicking Eddie slightly with your foot in annoyance and his head snaps up pretty quickly in response, wide eyes automatically looking straight at your dripping cunt, "Want you to watch me come, Eddie."

Eddie nods shakily and you double down your efforts to chase your orgasm, continuously rubbing your gspot and circling your clit in faster circles. You're a moaning mess, whining and keening into your own touch, your belly tightening and beginning to radiate an inner heat almost like the feeling of a full bladder.

The slick noises of your fingers on your wet pussy and Eddie's hand on his dick, his own throaty and strangled moans tangling with yours in the most delicious way has your back arching as you let the feeling wash over you.

It's always so intense when this happens, your own body forcing your fingers out of your cunt as you come, fingers working fast circles on your clit as your release shoots out of you, creamy and wet, dripping down your folds all the way to your ass, completely drenching the material under you.

You gasp in sharply, squeezing your eyes shut as you shudder through it, legs shaking and tummy muscles contracting. Though they flicker open once you hear Eddie cursing in front of you.

"Fuck - fuck, shit, fuck," Eddie's moaning and gasping, arching in on himself and coming hotly all over his fist not even a second after you as he watches you gush all over his comforter, soaking it. You don't miss the way his own come shoots up the front of his shirt, Eddie ever the amateur and not knowing how to aim away from himself.

"Bet your porno girls don't do that." You quip once you come back to yourself and Eddie slumps down a little, you lean forward and grabbing hold of Eddie's come soaked hand, bringing his fingers to your mouth to suck them clean.

You make a stupid show of it to rile Eddie up, looking him dead in the face, sucking his fingers down to the knuckle an slurping over them properly, licking at them like you would his cock. He's looking at you all dumb and awestruck, wet eyes glistening with admiration.

"What - what was that?" He asks quietly, nodding towards the wet patch below you, "Don't tell me I'm into you pissing all over my sheets."

You bark out a laugh, releasing his fingers from your mouth with a pop, "No, I didn't piss on your bed, Eddie. I squirted." Your tone is teasing, almost condescending as you explain yourself to him, which would annoy most men but you can't ignore the way Eddie's cock kicks up at you talking to him like he's dumb.

"How'd y'do that?" Eddie's so sincere that it makes you want to squish his cheeks and coo at him, it's so cute that he doesn't know much about the female anatomy but is willing to learn anything new that you show or tell him about.

"You wanna try?" You ask, cocking your head to the side and smirking, "I can usually do it more than once if I try hard enough, though I have no doubt your fingers will get the job done, handsome."

"Can I?" Eddie's eyes light up and his cock rises slightly, already half-hard just from the thought of touching you. You nod your head at him, spreading your legs again to let him get a good look at your cunt, glistening wet and still dripping.

"C'mere," You motion towards him with two fingers and he shuffles forward so he's situated between your spread thighs, dopey smile on his face, "you can start with two fingers. Remember the spongey part I told you about the first time?"

Eddie nods, already running his pointer and middle finger between your folds, stopping to rub at your sensitive clit before running back down to your entrance, breaching just ever so slightly with the tips of his fingers.

You sigh in pleasure, the feeling of his fingers already so much better than your own, "You just pump your fingers in and out only a little bit, keep your fingers pressed against the spongey part, 'kay, Eds?"

He nods again then sinks his fingers in to the hilt, a gasp escaping your mouth at the intrusion but god it felt good. Eddie finds your gspot rather quickly, crooking his fingers and rubbing over it relentlessly.

"You're so fucking good at this, Eddie," You cry, your own fingers slipping over your clothed nipples and rubbing at them, "please don't stop."

Eddie can't tear his eyes away from your wet cunt sucking in his fingers so well, the squelching sound like music to his ears and your moans only adding to it. He's fully hard again and can't even find it in him to be embarrassed, loving the way he could elicit this reaction from you.

You feel your second orgasm building a lot quicker than your last, Eddie's fingers a constant as he assaults your soft spot. It doesn't help that you're watching him look in awe at your pussy like he's never seen anything better, all doe eyed and sex stupid.

"M'gonna come, fuck, Eddie!" Your voice is fucked, you're louder than usual as your orgasm crashes over you, cunt clenching down on Eddie's fingers then forcing them out as you squirt again, this time somehow more than the first, shooting so far it drenches Eddie's bare thighs and his hard cock.

"'Atta girl, well done. You're so good." His soft voice has you whimpering and keening into him, shock coursing through your body at how unexpectedly dirty it is whilst he rubs at your inner thighs, soothing you through it.

"Dirty, talk to me like that again." You moan, leaning forward to grasp at Eddie's arms and tug him until he's hovering over you, hot breath fanning your face and chain dangling near your mouth, "Slide your cock in it."

Eddie furrows his brows, all confused at what you're saying, "You want me to... rub myself against you?"

"Yeah," You smile up at him, orgasm drunk and feeling a bit reckless, "it'll feel good, I promise."

You slip your hand down to grasp at his length, sliding the tip between your soaked folds and Eddie has to lean forward and brace himself on the foot of the bed, a feral moan escaping him.

He ruts against you a few times, sliding the length of his cock up and down your cunt, gliding wetly from your release, "You're so wet," his voice is hoarse and his words earnest yet sounding so dirty, "soaking me so good."

You nudge at Eddie a little and then capture his lips with yours for a hot, wet and dirty kiss and he's gone, coming hot on your pussy and you feel it running down you, mixing in with your own release and pooling at your ass.

Eddie pants into your mouth, hand gripping onto your waist tightly to hold himself up, "You're gonna be the fucking death of me, sweetheart." He groans, looking into your eyes with this adoration you had only seen a few times before, "Thank you."

"If you came that hard from just sliding it around wait until you actually fuck me." You giggle, always having to get the last word in and make it as dirty as possible. Eddie grimaces, but it gets lost when you lean up and kiss him again, pulling him down with a tug.

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alessiasfreckles · 2 months

Text

amnesia - part 2 (ona batlle x reader)

You're released from hospital in the hopes that returning home will help some of your memories return. Part 1 here!

warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss

a/n: sorry to everyone who just wanted a happy ending... you're not getting it just yet x

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You stayed in the hospital for a week after waking up. Every day, Ona and Alexia would be there. Sometimes other teammates would join - teammates whose names and faces you couldn’t recall, but when you’d hear their voice you suddenly remembered their favourite food, without knowing who they were.

Things like that gave Ona hope. Hope that you would remember your life together before the accident.

Every day she arrived with bright eyes, eager to see if you remembered anything, remembered her, but every day you greeted her with a friendly but somewhat vacant smile, like you weren’t sure what to make of her yet. And you weren’t. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, that there was something she wasn’t telling you. She seemed way too concerned about you to just be your best friend, but why would she lie?

Alexia asked her the same thing.

“You should tell her the truth,” the captain said, arms folded. “It’s not fair to her.”

“I don’t want to overwhelm her,” Ona protested. Part of her was hoping desperately that you would remember her, that she wouldn’t have to tell you, that your relationship was important enough to break through the amnesia clouding your mind.

She was also desperately hoping she wouldn’t have to tell you that she was the reason you had been in the accident at all.

“I think you should tell her.”

“Yes, I’ve understood that, thank you,” Ona snapped, and left Alexia standing outside your room without a second glance.

Alexia sighed. She didn’t want to overstep. It was something she’d been careful about since you arrived in Barcelona. She’d been quick to push down any feelings she had towards you, reminding herself time and time again that she couldn’t act on them, it wasn’t right, she was your captain. And when you and Ona started dating a little over 6 months ago, well, she was even more determined to squash any feelings she had for you.

Fixing her face into a smile, she walked into your room. Ona barely glanced at her as she came in, focused on you.

“Did you remember anything new?” Ona asked you.

“Not really, no,” you said, shaking your head. “Some stuff about my parents.”

“Ah,” she winced. You didn’t have a big family, you were an only child, so it was just you and your parents. You didn’t have a good relationship with them, you never had. They didn’t care about your football, and there were countless times that you’d been driven to and from training by your friends’ parents, or even by your coaches. It made sense that they hadn’t bothered coming to Barcelona after your accident.

“Yeah,” you shrugged.

“What about football?” Alexia asked. Talking about football seemed to help, and it at least made you smile.

“I remember more about playing!” you said, sitting up excitedly. “I remember being on the pitch, how it feels to kick the ball. I miss it.”

All three of you looked at your right leg. It had been operated on when you were still in a coma, but the doctors had put a cast on it for the time being, and you had strict orders not to put any weight on it for at least 2 weeks. It wasn’t just your leg that was the problem - being in a coma for 15 days had made your body weak, weaker than you would have thought. Playing football was out of the question, at least for the foreseeable future.

“Oh, they said I can go home on Friday, by the way,” you told them. “They said something about memories coming back, I think? The doctor couldn’t think of the word in English, but I think she was saying that there’s a good chance a lot of my memories will come back when I’m in a familiar environment. But if that doesn’t happen it’s okay too.”

“Excelente!” Alexia beamed. “We will be here to pick you up.”

You were trying not to get your hopes up too much, but you really, really hoped that going home would help bring back some of your memories. You didn’t even know what ‘home’ was, what it looked like, where it was. The girls had shown you some pictures, also hoping to trigger some locked away memory, but none of it helped. Nothing felt familiar.

On Friday, Alexia and Ona spoke to the doctor in rapid Spanish. You’d been told that you had been learning it before the accident, that you’d started when you moved to Barcelona over a year and a half ago, but now you couldn’t remember any of it.

As they wheeled you out of the hospital, crutches on your lap, Ona explained what the doctor had said.

“For now you have to rest, and next Friday you have an appointment to take the cast off. After that you’ll have physiotherapy four times a week, and occupational therapy twice a week. The hospital also recommended you see a psychiatrist to deal with the trauma of the accident and losing your memories,” she said with a slight wince.

You nodded. “That makes sense.”

The drive home was quiet. You spent it looking out of the window, feeling as though you were seeing everything for the first time, but also with a strange sense of déjà vu. You didn’t like the combination. It felt wrong.

When the car approached an apartment building and slowed to a halt, you expected some kind of familiarity, for your memories to come flooding back, but nothing happened. The building was unremarkable, nothing about it said ‘home’ to you.

The two women watched your reaction, first hopefully, then subdued as they realised you didn’t recognise it.

“Come on,” Alexia said, opening the car door. “Let’s go inside. Maybe that’ll be better.”

You studied your apartment door for a moment before unlocking it, waiting to see if it triggered anything. When nothing happened, you pushed the door open, taking a deep breath. The hallway of your apartment was light and airy, tidier than you’d been expecting, for some reason.

“Am I usually this tidy?” you asked, turning to look at Ona.

She snorted. “No, not really. But you don’t spend that much time here, you’re usually at m- um, at training, or at somebody’s house.”

A crease formed between her eyebrows as she frowned slightly, but it vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared. You hobbled inside, taking in the pictures and trinkets on the walls of the living room. There was a corkboard full of photos and memorabilia, and next to it was a framed jersey with your name on it.

“I remember that!” you exclaimed, your mind flooded with images and emotions. “That’s from my first international game! That’s when I made my debut! I remember walking onto the pitch and feeling so proud, and so nervous, and so, so excited.”

Alexia and Ona grinned in unison at your outburst, elated that you’d remembered something else and that being home amongst your things was working, at least a little.

You leant in closer to look at the corkboard, taking in all of the pictures. There was one of the whole Barcelona team, a couple selfies you’d taken with some of your teammates, photos of a group of you on a boat somewhere. There were some photos of you and Alexia, and some of you, Alexia and Ona. And there were a lot of pictures of just you and Ona. In fact, around half of them were of you and Ona - selfies, pictures other people had taken of you, pictures of just Ona where you had the distinct feeling that you’d taken them, though you didn’t know why.

Examining them closer, you realised that in a lot of them, the two of you were close, closer than you’d been expecting of someone who was just your best friend. Pictures of the two of you cuddled into each other, your head buried in her neck, pictures where her hand was on your thigh or your arm was wrapped tightly around her waist.

Pictures of the two of you kissing.

“What are these pictures?” you asked, turning to look at Ona. Her eyes were wide, lips parted, and you pushed down the sudden urge to kiss her. “Ona? What’s going on?”

-----

Part 3 here x

#hannah writes fics #ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle fanfic #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #barca femeni x reader #alexia putellas imagine

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