the longer i somehow scroll through my for you & tags, some of the hayden fandom seems a little questionable when it comes to writers…

which leads me to my own rant/thought bubble!

if u don’t like what someone is writing, don’t read it. if u don’t like how someone is writing a character, don’t read it. conceptualize your own work. if you don’t think you can write, leave requests!

block tags, block authors, do what u need to not see what you don’t like- but i don’t like seeing users bash writers for not writing characters the way they like or the smut is too much, etc. everyone is here to express creativity and thought in some form over characters they appreciate!

18+mdni. warnings: oral (f receiving). that's the premise of the blurb

ANAKIN SKYWALKER liked positions with you that made you whimper louder than you normally would. he liked hearing your cries for him, ones that he knew he could only elicit.

which is why he had you hoisted above the ground, your pussy right to his face. he had your back pressed against the wall, while he supported your thighs with your left leg swung over his shoulders, the other barely draped over his arm as you became limp in his grasp.

"ani!" you gasp as he softly nips your clit with his teeth, followed by his tongue soothing it with insistent lapping from your pussy to the very same sensitive bud.

holding you was easy, you felt almost weightless to him, his height and size. you looked beautiful spread out for him in his arms, at his mercy, letting him ravish you.

"that's it sweet girl." he murmurs against your center, where he increases his grip on your thighs, moving his thumbs in gentle circles before pressing his tongue into you, causing you to let out a low moan.

he knows how hard you're making him, the feeel of the strain of his cock against his pants was becoming increasingly more uncomfortable. as opposed to having you in bed and eating your sweet cunt, which he also loved, he was usually able to find some friction then as he did it. but there was nothing to grind against to provide a moment of relief, making him all the more needy.

your fingers had locked themselves in his hair, tugging at the strands and doing what you could to grind against his face. he lifts his head to gaze at you, your pupils blown wide, but beyond that, he can see how soft your eyes become looking at him.

"you like using me baby? you wanna cum on my face?" he asks, his face hovering centimeters from dipping back to eating you again. your leg tightens around him and he can be sure if he was inside of you, he would've felt you squeeze his cock.

you nod. "yes. anakin please. don't stop."

he hums. "what a good girl. using her manners when she's so desperate."

he would love to have his fingers in you, but that would require putting you down, and making you cum in this position was entirely too good for him. he dips his head further toward your core, so his nose brushes your clit while he's able to continue his tongue fucking.

you mumble, your grip getting tighter in his hair.

"what's that baby?" he doesn't pull himself away from you, letting his voice vibrate against your pussy.

"m'gonna cum," you pant out, "anakin!"

he knows he overstimulates you sometimes, but when you cum for him, on his face like this, he can't help but contine, to taste all of you. he just loves you so much, how could he not?

clay beresford x reader- arranged marriage: IV

part 1 . part 2 . part 3 .

18+mdni- warnings: minor injury- no blood, nipple play, fingering, oral (f recieving), ooc clay, slut used once. not proofread

clay beresford didn't know what he wanted. that was abundantly clear, to him especially. he didn't need an outsider to tell him how he was treating you was work of something evil. he didn't mean to be this way. he didn't expect to find himself infatuated with you. actually, he expected quite the opposite. he predicted a woman who was going to be up his ass, in his buisness, trying to get him to love her. or, in a similar fashion, use his money. but you weren't like that. and he hated it. even now he was fighting himself.

he didn't hate it. he liked it. but, he didn't want to like you. he tips his head back in his chair, groaning. living in the same home doesn't give him the same grounds to play this weird back and forth game he's been in and out of. you were everywhere, even when you weren't. your smell, your voice faint from another room, a fresh vase of flowers he's very sure he didn't buy. his mind finds the memory of the kiss from the other week. he could've stayed there for hours, melted into you. you responded to him with such need it made him weak. you've avoided each other since, since he fled. like he always does with you.

another groan. the thought of drinking doesn't often tempt clay, he put off his excessive drinking a couple years back when he accidentally sold a stock and fucked up his investments. but right now? it's looking delicious. the whiskey was almost screaming for him. he wondered what you were doing. by nine, you were usually always back in your room. he never knew doing what, but you didn't usually cross paths. he makes his way to the kitchen, filling up a glass halfway of the whiskey sitting in the bar cabinent. he winces when it first touches his lips, the taste burning his tongue and throat. he stares at the dark liquor in his hand, before swallowing the rest in one go.

he isn't sure how long he stays in the kitchen. he just keeps refilling his glass- only halfway!- and then relishing in the feeling he gets when he drinks it all at once. it's mind numbing.

"clay?" a tiny voice, one that could belong to a mouse.

you. your eyes were wide, gazing up at him, he could see the concern laced into your features. the way your mouth was pressing tight together and eyes round at his glass. he feels like the grinch, getting caught by sweet cindy lou who- like he's doing something he shouldn't be. in his own home.

"it's late for you." he doesn't look away from you, though. he wants to see your reactions to him speaking.

"i needed to grab some water." you bite your lip, as if debating on if you should keep talking. "are you... okay?"

okay. is he okay. the absurdity of it all makes him laugh, a boisterous, loud, obnoxious laugh. it startles you, blinking at him in response.

"point taken." you mutter and start to move around him, your face flushed red.

you shouldn't be embarrassed. you did nothing wrong. he's not himself right now. oh for fucks sake.

he then takes note of your outfit. a deep pink slip, one that hit the middle of your thighs. his body became acutely aware of this, twitching in response. he willed you to get out of the kitchen soon. his grip around his glass had become stark white, finding anything to think about but how your ass moved in that slip. as if on cue, you turn towards him, with a full glass of water now in your hand.

"have a good night."

he can see your nipples perking through. he forces his eyes to stay up, to nod at you. he wants nothing more than to take you right now, but he didn't need you to question his considerable amount of alcohol beforehand as the reason why.

you barely made it out of the kitchen before he hears a yelp from the hallway. spinning on his heel, he turns and heads towards you- praying you didn't do something stupid. his cock was already half hard and he needed to go relieve this. instead he rounds the corner to see you on the floor, a broken glass, and a puddle of water on the hardwood. you look up at him, with such beautiful eyes, full of tears.

he gains some composure, struggling to help. "hey...hey. it's okay. we'll get this cleaned up. don't touch the glass. i got it. are you hurt?"

you silently show him your bruised knees but no blood. as drunk or tipsy he felt, feels, he pushes it back to help you. his mind runs a little hazy, but he's definitely handled more liquor when he was out with his friends.

"just stay here. i'll get you new water and some ice." he didn't think you would cry over a fall like this. he's surprised you were so upset. he refills a new cup, finds a lame bag of frozen vegetables, and heads back.

"i don't have, um, any ice packs," he shows the frozen peas in his hand. "i can order some. if you think you might want the real deal."

at this your mouth curves upwards. "i'll reassess in the morning." he hands you the peas and water.

"stand up. i'll carry you."

your jaw drops. "carry me? no. that's okay. i can walk to my room."

he grits his teeth. "i'm going to carry you." you're standing, attempting to walk up the stairs without him, but he grazes you, lifting you bridal style up the stairs. he hears you muttering about this not being necessary, you could've done this, whatever. he ignores you. he hasn't been this close to you since you two came home from the gala. he pretends not to notice you looking at him with curiosity. he sits you on the edge of the bed, deja vu running through his head all over again.

"why have you been avoiding me?"

he never responded. he doesn't know how to be honest in situations like that.

the kiss. how it felt to possess you, fully, in that moment. he wants that again. he looks at you, your eyes already meeting his. maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's his walls finally collapsing. one can only hold back feelings for so long, emotions are like a vessel of water. holding them back only creates room for a bigger flood.

"can i kiss you." he hears himself ask. your tongue swipes along your bottom lip.

"yes."

clay wastes no time in leaning down to kiss you, his right hand finding grip on your waist and the other cradling your face. you taste like dark cherries and... licorice? he makes a mental note to figure out if there's licorice he's not aware of in this home. you whimper against his lips as he pushes further, biting your bottom lip with his teeth.

he pulls away to tell you to scoot back onto the bed but you don't need to be told, doing it immediately. your eyes never leave his, sending heat throughout his body, shivering at the feeling. he didn't want to fuck you tonight, no, he wanted to be fully sober for that moment. but he was going to ravish you in any other way he could.

starting with those fucking tits.

he brought your breasts out of the slip, the rest of the dress still covering what it could for you.

"perfect." clay mutters, pressing gentle kisses to each breast, before narrowing in on your nipples. thumbing them, flicking, sucking. he could've been in as much bliss as you were, hearing your sounds of pleasure and devotion. he could spend a considerable amount of time just in between your tits, the way he could make you weak when he attached his lips to your nipples, how good they felt in his hands. but he instead dips lower, his eyes darting to yours to make sure this was still okay. but your pupils are blown wide, your cheeks flushed a pretty pink, your breaths coming rapidly.

he kisses your pussy against the slip, then pushes the dress upwards, revealing your lack of panties.

his cock throbs against his sweatpants.

"dirty girl." clay clicks his tongue, his fingers swiping up your center, coming back with pure slick. "you've wanted this, haven't you?" you nod quietly, watching him tease your pussy. he comes towards your face, his fingers staying still on your clit.

"that's why you went out that night. dressed like a slut. hm? you wanted my attention?" your hips try and grind against his palm, but he stills you. he wants to make sure you hear his words. "well you have it baby. always have."

the glaze across your eyes snaps in half, as if what he said clicked. you don't argue or ask questions. you just drag his face to your lips and kiss him. passionately, with something that's been held back. when he needs to come for air, you barely let him go, as if he's going to leave. which, based on his history, clay understood.

his fingers play at your clit, his lips still locked against yours. you respond so well, he thinks, to his praise of telling you how good you are, how beautiful you are, all just for him. he lowers his mouth to you, after drawing his fingers out, allowing him to slide his tongue in and explore you with his mouth.

"god clay!" he takes that as a sign to keep going, your hands finding place in his hair, tugging softly as he continues his assault on you. you tasted divine, he couldn't get enough-latching his mouth onto your clit, and sucking. your feet dug into his shoulders as he felt you tighten, releasing onto his face. he grins when he looks up at you, running his tongue over his lips and making a show of swallowing the fluids he picked up. he lies down next to you, pulling you into his side, eager to feel your warmth while he slept for the first time.

"we need to talk about your tendencies to run from me." he hears you say, which almost makes him laugh. you weren't getting rid of him now. not ever.

"in the morning." he grumbles.

18+mdni

warnings: age gap, masturbation (f), power dynamics, implied watching reader masturbate, dirty talk, pillow humping, fingering, unprotected piv, mentions of hickies, overstimulation

dads best friend! james kelly x younger reader, sorta a second pt to this!

it felt like hours ago your father left you at home, saying he was going for drinks and to play pool at the dive with his best friend, JAMES KELLY. you were home for christmas, a much needed break from the week of exams you took. which were absolutely ridiculous.

you had pulled out a bottle of pinot grigio that you're sure your father had completely forgotten about. by this point, you were nearing a third glass and your next movie in line wasn't going to be something from the television. you groan outwardly, the all too familiar ache settling in between your thighs. your mind drifts, thinking of the last time you were home.

your dads friend- james- had taken care of you every single night. in more ways than one. he had you unravelling around him any time the two of you were left alone and you couldn't think of a better way to spend your summer. he was more than furious that you chose to go back to school, since he couldn't police your every movement- which was code for, i can't see what men you're talking to. you weren't sure if he knew you were home, but knowing your father, he would mention how excited he was you were home for christmas, and some other fatherly sentiments on top of that. you wondered if he would try and see you.

how silly it sounded, wondering about a 40 something year old man, when you could just text back the boy you went out with two weeks ago for instant gratification. but that wasn't the routine you liked. you liked the chase. the obsession. the drama of it all. that boy the other week... chris maybe? was that his name? he was just too plain.

your logical thoughts start drifting, desire plotting in its wake. you needed to find release. soon. you sigh at having to move from your position on the couch but find your way to your room anyways. contemplating your options, you choose the folded pillow as your target. quiet enough, if needed, that if your father returned home, you'd be able to hear the door. you strip your sleep shorts and panties off, leaving you in a yellow v neck t shirt. you keep it on. for modesty, one could joke.

as soon as your bare clit hits the pillow, you let out a moan, as if it's been waiting to be released from you. you grind slowly on it, letting your imagination drift into the places you haven't touched. and god did you want james right now.

the way his fingers curl into you, how he licks your juices clean from your pussy after you've came so much you're limp. you whimper at the thought. you haven't done anything with a man since james. nothing could even come close and you didn't want to just be disappointed. but he hadn't given you the time of day since he found out you weren't choosing to drop out and stay home. which, was truly ignorant because you're this close. he just wanted access to you at all times.

you're falling deeper and deeper into ecstasy, your mind clouded by lust and those three glasses of wine. you've become lost in pleasure, allowing yourself to whimper his name as if he's the one bringing all of this to you.

"james... james oh fuck!" you cry softly, folding over as your orgasm rocks through your body.

"is that all you've got?" a voice from your doorway startles you, making you turn and look at your unexpected visitor. james, standing in your room, pupils blown wide watching you.

"how...why are you here?" you can't piece together why he would be in your room when only your father should've been returning.

he walks further in, standing at the edge of your bed now. you're still shamefully soaking through the pillow, perched on top.

"car broke down. couldn't get home. your dad told me to just stay here and we'll work on it tomorrow." he pauses, watching your face, trying to read your emotions. "i wasn't aware his daughter was in town."

"got here a few days ago." you're too nervous to make any movement. his gaze is heating you, one you occasionally have to look away from.

"and no one thought to tell me." you want to go with the logical side, why would your father mention it off the rip? but you know he means you. he's pissed you didn't make your appearance known to him.

you drop your voice. "you didn't- haven't- really wanted to talk to me since i left." you're entirely sure you sound whiny, asking for someone twice your age to be responsive towards you. instead, he moves even closer, coming around to your side of the bed, hovering over you. you have to tilt your head to look up at him.

"i just want you all to myself babygirl. it's hard to think about you with other boys. they don't deserve you."

the pulsing feeling in your core was coming back, hotter than ever.

"james." your voice is thick. he knows. his cock is straining against his pants at the sight of you on this pillow, wet and soaking, needy for him.

"you want me to help you baby?" he coos, thumbing a nipple through your shirt. you nod wordlessly, a silent beg for him to do something, anything, before you explode. "you have to tell me. say it."

"please touch me." the words tumble out of your mouth in seconds.

"lean forward. on your knees. keep your clit on that pillow. yes, good girl." you're on all fours, with the pillow pressing against your cunt beneath you. he gives an approving smack on your ass, before spreading you apart. without warning his tongue is pressed inside you, flicking, diving deeper. his hands keep grip on your ass, as he's still standing next to the bed, leaning down. his fingers slide in you, one at a time, until he's fucking your pussy with his fingers to a pace that forces your body to move against the pillow. the sensation is mind numbing, you feel as if your legs have gone into shock. one orgasm bleeds into the next and james has no intentions of stopping anytime soon it appears.

when he removes his fingers, he holds you in place on the pillow as he unbuckles his pants and undresses, releasing his needy cock. he takes his time pressing the head against your pussy, watching it split open, your juices covering him, then pulling back.

"james please!" you beg, despite being overstimulated and exhausted, the need for him is buzzing and alive.

"please what?" he presses against you again, this time waiting.

"please fuck me. please." a pathetic cry but it does the trick as he thrusts into you.

"if your dad wasn't home, i'd be makin' you scream for me so i could wear out that voice for me." he leans down, into your ear to whisper, and as he does, he bottoms out even deeper. with a tight grip on your hips, he fucks you, every so often pulling you by the hair to kiss you. open mouthed, needy kisses, ones that radiated desire and want, and he never wanted to stop.

"i'm the only one who can take you like this. mine." he rasps, finally allowing you escape off the pillow, to now be laid on your back, legs wrapped tight around him.

"i don't," your breaths are ragged, "see anyone else. haven't since the summer."

it feels like such a childish conversation, one you especially shouldn't be having in the middle of sex, or with your fathers best friend. all of it was incredibly wrong. he pauses inside you, staring at you. maybe you ignited something completely different, you're not sure. but his lips find way to your neck, collarbone, breasts. leaving purple bruises as he goes. the sight turns him on even more, seeing how he's marking you, knowing no one else can get you. except him.

"wrap those legs tighter 'round me baby." he urges, as you lock your legs around his waist and he drives deeper into you. he watches you, your back arched off the bed, eyes glazed over, approaching yet another orgasm. "that's it angel. just like that. gonna cum f'me?"

you nod, the euphoric feeling already taking control of your body. he picks up his relentless pace, his cock throbbing inside of you, begging for its own release. his mind jumbles together, his words an amalgamation of his thoughts.

"good girl...cum for daddy. that's it. gonna fill you up, okay? gonna make sure that pussy is marked with me and only me. mm fuck!"

he collapses against you as you feel him soften inside you and wrap your arms around his neck.

"missed your pussy so much." he says against your neck. "i can't wait to give you your new favorite christmas present."

you don't have to think hard as to what that could possibly entail. you just wonder how long until your father becomes suspicious.

18+mdni

me when I just posted i slowed on writing but found a draft i could finish. whoops don’t mind me

anakin skywalker is rubbing his cock against your clit, slowly, watching your fluids drip down your cunt. you’re not entirely sure how you got to the point of your master towering above you, teasing your entrance with himself, but here you were. the memory of him minutes earlier, buried in between your legs engulfs itself in your mind. he was relentless, lapping at your pussy like it was heaven sent.

“all for me,” he had muttered, his thumbs digging into your thighs, leaving bruises with the force he gripped on.

you think maybe you pushed him a little too far in training with your attitude today, that could have been it. whatever it was, it landed you here.

“so fuckin’ tight.” he groans as he slowly pushes in, his head already filling you up. anakin adjusts, pushing your legs back further towards your head, as he drives his cock deeper inside you. it hits a spot you’ve never felt before, one that makes your core knot.

“ani!” you breathe out, any other words failing. his eyes almost glow with lust as he watches you, his movements becoming quicker. the sound of him moving in and out of you becomes wetter, lubricating his cock, allowing him to slide in even easier. he pulls out, just to insert his fingers and curl them inside, scissoring into your wet pussy.

“you don’t seem to have an attitude now, do you? not when i’m making you drip all around my fingers.” he switches back to fucking you, then alternating again. and again. the feeling starts to become overwhelming, your body shaking into an orgasm around him.

“stars baby. you cum so pretty. you wanna take my seed and remember who you belong to while you train?”

anakin’s words are dirty but you nod, you almost couldn’t deny him, or anything he said at that moment. his thrusts become deeper, slower, but you can tell he’s hitting his peak when he slams inside you each time.

his thoughts, sentences become scrambled as he inches closer to his own climax but it doesn’t stop you from squeezing around him at it.

“gonna fill you up. fuck.” he grunts. “need this pretty thing on me every night, train you to take all of me the way i like.”

your palm finds your clit as he talks, rubbing it, finding a dual ecstasy.

this is anakin’s undoing, watching you touch yourself as he talks. his cum paints your insides, his voice telling you this is his mark on you.

being his padawan has a deeper meaning now, apparently.

waking up next to CLAYTON BERESFORD was euphoric. every sound sounded like a melody. the rustle of the linen sheets as you turned over, your body soft and warm and bare next to his. the steady breaths that left his mouth whispering to you like the most holiest of hymns. everything about this man was so incredibly perfect, like he was crafted by the angels of love themselves and sent to you, wrapped with a bow and woven with tenderness and affection.

rays of sunlight came through the half drawn curtains and shone on his sandy blonde hair, creating a halo effect. fitting, you thought, after all, he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.

“honey?” his sleepy voice calls, hands grabbing at your waist to pull you on top of his chest. “don’t go..” he murmurs, smooshing his face into the crook of your neck. “i don’t like it when you leave so early.”

“baby, i’m not leaving. i’m getting you coffee.” a laugh bubbles up in your chest, but it’s too early to make him pouty. begrudgingly, he lets go of you, almost whining when you slip back into some form of clothes and pad into his kitchen. now he just lays there, missing the warmth of your body next to his.

memories from last night rush into his still sleep-ridden mind. the way your delicate hands felt in his hair, the sensation of your legs wrapping around his waist. he longed for every touch back. he yearned for another taste of the sweet honey that was yours. he ran a hand through his sandy curls and sighed, a smile playing on his gentle lips.

once you returned with two coffee mugs, displaying the names ‘mr’ and ‘mrs’, he was on you. lips found your neck, pressing slow kisses along the side of your throat. “clay, what are you..” you giggle, the onslaught of kisses taking you by surprise. his legs wrapped around you and he climbed half of top of you, kissing your face and then your lips.

kissing him was a tender thing filled with passion and fire. his hands roamed your back, squeezing your hips or any skin he could find. fingertips grazed your chest, sending sparks down your spine. “i love you, baby. i love you, i love you, i love you.” he spoke between kisses.

“clay!” you managed to squeak before his hands took your (his?) shirt off, slipping it up and off of your frame. “shh, i’ll be gentle.” he whispers like a prayer, smooching down your body. your protests die as he finally settles in between your legs, looking at you like you were the only girl.

“let me love you.”

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warnings: has smut but also fluff

an: this is my first fic and it might be the only fic i’ll ever post. also sorry if the smut sucks it’s clear that a virgin wrote this 🫩💔

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sam had his eyes on you for the longest time at school. you two had only spoken a couple of times, and one of those times was when you complimented his black and blue hair. so after chickening out for the longest time, he finally asked you out during chemistry class by passing you a note that said, “there’s going to be a re-release on nightmare on elm street. do you wanna go see it with me tomorrow night @ 8pm?”

while sam has a job, he’s always broke because he spends his money on weed and stupid shit he doesn’t need, but somehow he always finds a way to have money to spend on you. even if it’s a couple of dollars, he’ll buy you a snack or a trinket.

sam is a HUGE softie when it comes to you. even though it looks like he’s in a bad mood 24/7, he’ll call you to come over so he can hug you, kiss you, cuddle with you, and watch tv after having a long day or arguing with his stepdad or just because. sometimes he’ll cry silently into your shoulder when it’s bad.

sam claims to hate pet names, but he secretly loves them and finds it endearing when you call him ‘baby, sammy, babe, or my love.’ the first time you called him sammy, he gave you the dirtiest side eye but you knew deep down that he loved it.

sam was scared shitless when he got his labret piercing done. he claimed he wasn’t scared at all, but the second the piercer inserted the needle he grabbed your wrist, and squeezed the absolute fuck out of it when he felt the stinging sensation.

sam loves taking polaroid pictures of you or the two of you together. he’ll put them on his walls of his bedroom or on the dash meter of his car. he also likes to put your claw clip on the strap on his backpack, and he’ll even put your bra strap on as a bracelet.

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the first time you and sam had sex was in his car at a empty parking lot. you two had just got done smoking two joints. it was pretty bad because, first of all, it was sloppy. second of all, he had you trying to ride him in the driver’s seat, but that didn’t work out due to lack of space. so you both moved to the back seat, and somehow it was worse.

sam loves teasing you before inserting his dick inside of you. he’ll put the tip in just to make you whine and squirm. he also likes to rub his tip on your clit so he can watch you beg, but you later get him back by edging him.

sam loves it when you wear skirts, especially denim skirts and dresses. when he gets impatient, he can easily fold them and move it up towards your stomach and put your panties to the side to fuck you.

sam’s favorite position is definitely doggy. he loves seeing your ass up, back arched while his balls smack your ass. a hand on your lower back and the other hand grips your head back so he can watch your helpless expression.

when sam’s mom grounds him and can’t see you, he’ll grab a pair of panties that belong to you and wrap them around his hard leaking dick. he gets himself off while picturing you. it’s not enough but that’ll do for now.

sam has an asphyxiation kink, (duh, it’s literally shown in the movie lol). one time while you were riding him, he wanted you to choke him until he turned red. you were hesitant at first, but after the first try, it’s been apart of the routine ever since.

Warnings/notes: Aj, multiple orgasms, different positions, cowgirl, doggy, spooning, breast play, clit play, FREAKY. Guys, I hardly see Aj fics!

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You were waiting outside of your car, watching the gates, anxiously. Today, Aj was getting released from prison. It’s been 8 months since you’ve last been able to touch him, hold him. You visited as often as you could’ve, but it wasn’t enough.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the gates open, and revealed Aj walking out. He looked the same, maybe some more tattoos, buffer.

You squealed and ran over to him, excitedly. He dropped his bag on the floor and opened his arms for you, that smug smirk on his face. You hugged him tightly, and he lifted you up, his hands on your thighs.

He pressed his lips against yours, groaning. “Fuck.. it feels so good to hold you again..” he said between kisses, holding you tightly against him.

You kissed him back, your arms wrapped around his neck. “I missed you..” you pouted, pulling away from the kiss to catch your breath.

He held you with one arm, the other picking up his bag before walking to the car. “Missed you more.. more than you could imagine.” He said. He set you down, tossing his bag in the backseat before getting in the driver seat, you in the passenger seat.

You got home pretty quickly. The second the doors shut, he pushed you against the wall, his lips against yours. You kissed him back, both of you desperately stripping each other clothes off.

Once you were just in your panties, and he was in his boxers, he carried you up the stairs, but he was so desperate he suddenly stopped, making you confused.

“Gonna fuck you right here..” he muttered, bending over the steps, and you didn’t complain. You were just as desperate for him as he was for you. He pushed your lacy panties to the side, throwing his boxers somewhere down the stairs.

He immediately entered you, pushing in slowly. You moaned, your eyes rolling back as he filled you up. His head fell back against his shoulders, biting his lip.

He immediately started to move his hips, thrusting into you at a hard pace. You gripped onto the stairs for support as he gave you CRAZY backshots.

He held your hips, slapping your ass. “Missed this pussy..” he said, not slowing his thrusts. Your mouth hung open, groaning loudly as your pussy clenched around him, making him groan.

His thrusts got faster, knowing you were close to the edge. One had remained on your hip, while the other grabbed you by your hair, pulling your head back. “Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” He asked.

You could only mumble, hardly being able to speak. You felt like your brain was melting. When you didn’t reply, he slowed his thrusts. “Answer me.” He demanded.

You gasped when he slowed down, whining. “M’gonna cum.. please..” “please what?” He taunted. “Let me cum..” you begged.

He immediately started to thrust fast and hard again, almost knocking the wind out of you. You moaned loudly as you came around his cock, your moans echoing through the house.

He continued for a few moments before pulling out, jerking himself off as his cum shot out onto your ass. “Fuck…” he groaned, giving your thigh a smack before picking you up again. “We’re not done.”

Once you entered your room, he tossed you onto the bed. “Get on your side.” He demanded. You did as you were told, turning onto your side. He came up behind you, spooning you.

He grabbed your knee and held your leg over his hip, keeping you spread open while his other arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close.

He entered you from behind again, your head falling back against his chest. He started to thrust again, his arm keeping you in place.

You moaned softly, your hand intertwining with his. He started to trust slowly at first, kissing the shell of your ear. “Good girl..” he muttered, before he started to speed up,

Your moans got louder, your thighs twitching, but he held her open. “Cmon, princess.. be a good girl.” He said, giving your clit a slap, a loud moan escaping from your mouth,

He started to rub your clit nice and fast, wanting you to cum again. You whined loudly, crying out in pleasure. “Aj!”

He continued to rub your clit, his thrusts even harder and faster after hearing her moan his name. “Say my name again. Now, or I’ll stop.”

“Aj..” you moaned, your brain going fuzzy as you felt your orgasm approaching. He slapped your clit again. “Cum f’me.” He said.

You immediately obeyed, cumming around his cock for the second time. You went non verbal, your mouth agape. This time, he came inside you, his thrusts slowing. “That’s my girl.. cumming so nicely for me.” he grunted.

He stayed inside you for a few moments, panting softly before pulling out. He turned onto his back, pulling you on top of him.

“Wanna ride me, baby?” He asked, pressing his lips against yours, making out with you as his hands ran all over your body. You nodded, sinking down onto his cock. You immediately started to move, bouncing on his cock.

He groaned, smacking your ass before grabbing your hips, helping guide your movements. “That’s it..” he said.

Your breasts bounced in his face with each bounce, making him grab and suck on your nipples. “These are mine, aren’t they?” He asked, leaving a few hickeys on your skin. You nodded, panting heavily as you rode him. “Y-Yes..” she moaned, her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

His hands moved back down to your hips, leaning back against the headboard. You bounced even faster, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. You squirted around his cock, making a mess on his lap and the bed, mumbling words and moaning incoherently, collapsing on top of him.

He came inside you once again, whimpering. He wrapped his arms around you when you collapsed on top of him. “It’s okay.. you’re okay.” He said, rubbing your back soothingly. He pulled out of you, still holding you. “You’re my good girl, y’know that?” He asked, kissing your forehead. You hummed, burying your face in his neck.

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Authors note: GUYSS this is my freakiest work yet. I hope you enjoyed..

18+mdni

master!anakin x padawan!reader

warnings: sex pollen, low stakes power dynamic, grinding/dry humping, unprotected piv, dirty talk, creampie, overstimulation, belly bulge, brief fingering mention, also brief cumplay

may the 4th be with you loves!! <3

following anakin blindly on missions was essentially what he expected everytime. he gave you directions, whatever it was, you agree. he controls the starfighter, you sit silently, watching him. you were entranced by him, he fought so effortlessly, the way you wanted to train yourself to be.

he noticed. he noticed how you watched him, your gaze constantly lingering on him, even when it shouldn't be. especially when he would tell you to focus on said mission. such as, distracting the enemy so you could get the hell off the outer planets and return back. he found himself constantly muttering curses with "padawan" followed after.

once again, you were paying "attention" to the mission, but were seemingly distracted in anakins words, as he gave you the rundown on how you were ultimately leaving the planet. your foot caught on a root, causing you to trip into a bed of plants, eliciting a groan from you. you hear anakin sigh from in front of you, moving towards you to help you up. your nose twitches. you bring your palm up to your face, wiping it across your nose to find a dust covering your nose and most likely everywhere your body fell into.

"yuck." you huff, brushing it off, some falling onto anakin as he takes your hand. he glances at it, squinting at the dust that now covers his own hand.

"what is this?"

you shrug. "i'm not an expert on other planets- or ours- plants. thought you might know."

his face contorts. "lets keep moving."

the further you walk, the more you feel a haze start to cloud your mind. it doesn't feel natural, feels more like when you have too many drinks at the local dive in coruscant. but the haze is heavy.

"anakin, can we stop for a moment?" your eyes are heavy lidded, your body feels warm. you've felt this feeling before, the way the warmth travels down your body, stopping at your core, letting it fill you, make your insides pulse. you bite your lip, willing yourself to focus for just a moment.

he turns to look at you. maybe with the force he can sense it, feel the desire radiating from you, but the need that seeps from him is just as urgent. he's never let himself outwardly think this way about his padawan, controlled his thoughts so well. a deeper part of him knows it must be because of that damned pollen you caught yourself up into earlier.

"we're almost at the starfighter." he rasps out. he silently begs you to control it, himself too, until you were back, back where he could take care of the need crawling between both of you.

your visions have clouded of solely anakin. you had to be soaking through your pants, the thoughts that were consuming you almost making you collapse on the spot to find pleasure. when the starfighter came into view, you could've cried, knowing you were closer to home at this point, not close enough, but one step further. anakin watched as you sat down, the sudden friction on your overly sensitive clit causing you to yelp without warning. he draws in a sharp breath as he launches off, but fails to keep his eyes away from you. he ghosts a hand over your upper thigh, his thumb lightly brushing your covered center. the touch makes you whimper, moving his hand to press against you.

"that's it. use me." he cups his palm around your core, letting you grind against him. it feels entirely wrong, but the pleasure is immeasurable.

"stars..." you cast out, slipping deeper into the seat, finding your orgasm drawing closer.

anakin was just hoping he could last until you got back. which, by the string of his robes, he did, and was practically dragging you to his quarters, his cock straining hard against his pants, begging to be inside you.

his lips meet yours, as hovers above you on his bed, devouring you. the taste of you becomes addicting, his tongue finding entrance in your mouth, your fingers landing place in his hair. your hips are rocking against him, finding a constant source of pleasure for yourself.

anakin undresses, returning the act on you.

"need to be inside you. now. waited too long." he's teasing your entrance, watching you, his pupils covering the whites of his eyes.

"ani please." a whiny beg leaves your mouth. he spits onto your pussy, rubbing it into your clit, then thrusting in. he collapses over you, feeling his cock fill you entirely. your eyes are glazed over, watching him fuck you. your fingers fist into the blankets trying to find something to grasp onto to relieve the build up of pressure in your body. his thumb runs over the bulge that makes itself clear in your stomach each time he fills you to hilt.

"you see that baby? you see how i fill you?" your head tilts back, wrapping your legs around his back.

whatever feeling the pollen had created had allowed for the pleasure to be amplified, his nerves in his cock to be more sensitive, the feeling of an orgasm to be brought on almost immediately.

"let me cum in you. please." he begs, gripping your hip, going faster, trying to find release. you nod, your thoughts becoming a jumbled mess, as his lips found yours once more.

he curses against your lips, finding his release, the feeling of his cum soaking your insides.

"stars baby, you feel so good."

your head spins but the need isn't fully satisfied. you look at him, searching his eyes to see if he feels the same. his fingers stroke your clit, one inserting slowly in your pussy, just teasing the cum inside. a small grin forms on his face, one that seems a little more grounded, as if the pollen isn't as present-

"not ready to stop yet, are you?"

“and if they stole you from me, on my arm, there’s a tattoo of your name” ꩜ ⋆ 𓂃 ₊ ⊹

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bf!sam monroe x gf!reader — early 2000s

summary: pretty much the title lol— sam gets a tattoo of your name on his arm as a fun little surprise bcs why not!

warnings: none, literally just fluffiness, sam is a sweetheart in this, no use of y/n for reader-insert

word count: 841

a/n: first fic, yay!! I haven’t written in like years so my writing skills are pretty rusty; forgive me. I do plan on writing more in the future, and they will be hayden character x reader, just don’t know when! yes, the title is a lyric from a pierce the veil song in case you were wondering. million dollar houses has my heart. masterpiece of a song by the way highly recommend it.

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You fiddle with the hem of your shirt as you patiently wait for your boyfriend SAM MONROE to return from, well, whatever he’s up to. The thing is, all he told you is that he’s going somewhere and coming back with a surprise. Left no indication nor clues of his whereabouts, so you’re left alone in the passenger seat of his worn down car. You hoped he wasn’t doing something impulseful again. Like that time he got another piercing, one on his eyebrow. Then he had to get it removed due to infection, and it was not pretty.

You are brought back down to Earth with the sound of the driver seat’s door unlatching, breaking the dead silence that was nearly killing you just a moment ago. Sam had an unusually giddy look on his face. He looks, well, happy. But a little too happy? Perhaps etched with some form of excitement? Oh, well, at least you’re getting a surprise, and you surely won’t be complaining about that.

“Hi,” you greet him with a kiss on the cheek, such a simple action yet one that causes a slight blush to spread across his cheeks. Only you hold the distinct sweetness to abash him in such a way. You eye his hands and notice he isn’t holding anything alluding to a surprise, which stirs some slight disappointment in you. “Where’s the surprise?”

Sam fully diverted his attention to you with what appeared to be a smile tugging on his lips. “Hm?”

Your smile drops at his feigned confusion. “Sam, you know what I’m talking about.”

“No, I don’t actually.” He continues, lips nearly curling into a grin that both irritated you and made your heart flutter.

Your unamusement is evident with the way your eyes narrow and your earlier smile is completely wiped off your face. Which in turn, evokes an entertained chuckle from your boyfriend. “All right, I lied, there is a surprise,” he admits while holding his hands up in surrender. To say your eyes light up at that was an understatement.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“Okay, okay!” He exclaims and you draw yourself closer to him, enough to take a peep but also giving him plenty of personal space in case this is a really good surprise. But, instead of pulling out what you were assuming would be a gift box, he rolls up his sleeve and raises his bare arm up to your eye level. There, sat a fresh tattoo of your name, in cursive, with a heart next to it, on his bare arm. You immediately gasp and your hand flies to your mouth in pure astonishment. Your eyes meet his and the way he is absolutely beaming at your reaction is priceless. You can’t even remember the last time he’s been looking that radiant. Unable to restrain yourself any longer, you take him by the nape of his neck to quickly pull him in and crash your lips into his, to which he instantly complies with, shown in the way he immediately tangles one of his hands in your hair.

After what felt like a good eight seconds of kissing, the two of you broke contact between your lips and you couldn’t resist the urge to crack into a huge smile, Sam following.

“What was that for?” You ask, and he raises an eyebrow of perplexity. “The tattoo, I meant— why all of a sudden?”

Sam’s smile softens with your question, still licking his lips after the short little session you and him just had. “Well, when you aren’t around I tend to miss you— a lot, so I got your name tattooed on my arm to prove that I’ll always keep a part of you with me, even if you aren’t physically here. Do you get it?”

With a tilt of your head and a bit of a smile, you utter, “I don’t remember you being so poetic, now.”

Sam rolls his eyes but quickly pushes your comment aside to encase you in a warm hug, the car’s centre console acting as a minor obstruction to a full embrace, yet still standing inferior. The pointer finger belonging to your right hand traces slow circles over the exposed skin of his neck, and he mimics your actions with his hand over your clothed back. His lips make contact with the sensitive skin of your lower jaw and he slowly makes his way down until he reaches your collarbone, each gentle touch sending a spark of electricity through your body.

“I love you.” Sam declares, burying his face into the smoothness of your neck, and your hand slid upward to entangle its fingers in his soft, jet black hair.

You bow your head down to be at level with his ear, “I love you,” you say and feebly play with the ends of his hair, allowing the silence to flow through the space until you decide to open your mouth not even one minute later.

“So, what if I get a tattoo of your name?”

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꒰ tags: @letterstoanakin @cravingsammonroe ꒱

renaissance period- painter! anakin x upper class! reader

AN(read if u care): god forbid i made any mistakes in the era here. truly wanted the writing to not be insufferable (a 2026 woman trying to use 1400's-1500's lingo) so i wrote it in a way that wasn't icky. to me anyways. that being said, no use of thy, thee, thou. seemed performative and when i did use it and reread, i hated it. lol. also. this is not lorenzo di lamberti even tho i am aware he would be more historically accurate but i haven't seen the movie so i didn't want to get the character wrong. so anakin it is.

warnings: none yet

you felt yourself stiffen as the maid pulled your corset tighter against your chest. no matter how many times you went through this everyday, the feeling of it getting tighter and tighter doesn't get less uncomfortable. you wave your hand at the handmaiden, signaling her to step away. she wordlessly shuffles out of your room, as you adjust your bodice. in place of her, your mother walks in, staring daggers at you.

"you were supposed to be in the kitchen assisting with preparation for dinner."

"i lack to see how this could be so important. we make the same size dinner everyday." you follow her out the door, taking one last look at yourself in the gold framed mirror.

"your father requested there be plenty more than usual, we have a painter coming in today to look at the ceiling out in the bathhouses." a small smile forms on her face, clearly in thought of the marvelous ceiling that adorns the baths. "he wants to make a fine impression on him, he's well renowned."

you found this to be fact in seconds, because she had the wine from the cellar she never used out, shining in the sunlight, its deep red color almost black.

"we have pheasant for dinner, why don't you start preparing the fruits for me?" she hands you peaches and pears, a selection at that, and you restrain a breath before setting them on a board to begin preparing.

"what's this painter like? is he just a lout? what does father want him to do for us?"

your mother tosses you a look before responding as she searches for spices. "nay, amore mio. he just did a divine work for that man and wife who moved in to that lovely villa in the town centre lately. father is ridiculous about it, can't stop talking about how something that splendid should be without us." she shakes her head silently.

prepping the fruits onto the serving dish, you plate onto both ends and leave room for the meat your mother is preparing. a loud bang comes from the entryhall, one that signals your knocker being used (aggressively at that).

"marry!" your mother jumps at the sudden loud noise, mutters brief italian under her breath, then looks at you.

"would you go retrieve the gentleman? i'm sure the handmaid has already welcomed him in, and i don't want him on his lone for too long."

you shuffle around the kitchen, moving as well as your skirt would allow. the entryhall has brief mumurs, nothing distinguishable. the man chosen to speak with your father, is standing at the entrance like a sliver of sun. he's golden, ambient. he looks as if he spent hours in apollos' light, being created and sculpted, just to be hand delivered to you, in your home.

"m'lady, it's a pleasure to meet you. forgive my silence." he offers a hand and dips his head towards you. you shake it, as he presses a brief kiss to your knuckles.

"anakin."

you introduce yourself, smoothing down a blush that is rising hot onto your cheeks. "mother and i have just finished dinner. i'll show you to the great hall."

his footsteps follow yours, to the room boasting a large table and windows that casted light on each seat. mother and father weren't in yet, a chance being father had heard the commotion and came inside, to which your mother told him who was here. you know you ought to retrieve the serving dish. yet, the radiance that emitted from this man, you wanted nothing more but to stay.

"pray tell, anakin, how came you by such an interest in art so... detailed and intimately?" he takes a seat at one of the chairs, your eyes watching one anothers intently.

"i painted for my mother before she passed. i paint for her still." he smiles at you, a dimple showing in his right cheek. it touches your heart, the smile despite a loss, the continued memory of her being alive through his grandoise work.

"i like that." you respond softly. you want to touch him. you want to trace your finger along his outlined muscle. thoughts that would never be approved of. your mother comes in, eyeing you, as she sets down the platter.

he rises to greet her, the most formal and respected you've ever seen a man treat you and your mother in your fathers absence. you take your seat while anakin introduces himself to your mother, hoping to avert her eyes when she's finished. father must've taken this as a sign to enter as well, hearing the introductions start. you sit quiet as mother immediately takes her seat, and the two men start exchanging conversation in front of you. he ushers him to his seat once more, before sitting down himself.

the maid starts plating the food from the far side of the table, creating the dish up so well that you can't help but keep casting your eyes towards it. you'd have to loosen your corset later on terms you would never confess. the dinner is rather dull, more something that would've been a beneficial business arrangement, rather than say, your regular noon meal. though by the end one thing was clear, your father was enthralled by anakin. the idea he had laid out for him was meticulous and long, but anakin seemed to be receiving it with a joy you wouldn't have expected.

"my good sir, you shall not be disappointed. the bathhouse will provide the most beautiful light onto this painting... maybe some gilded tiles..." his voice gets lost, clearly in his own thoughts.

your father has him start work immediately. your window looks out to the gardens that stretch towards the attached bathhouse, where you soon find yourself watching anakin go back and forth. when you would let yourself indulge the fantasies, you would sit on your sill and watch, his sweat soaking through his linen shirt he allowed on, in the privacy of your family.

one day, during the storms that had clouded over your town, you thought up the idea to go look at the painting yourself. you hadn't seen anakin come in yet, and you wanted the visual. lifting your linen gown, careful not to let it drag on the wet grass, you hurry out to the bathhouse.

the smell of paint almost overtakes you, though gives way quickly, your shock and awe replacing it. it's not close to being finished, not in the slightest. yet, the work that had been done was immaculate. your father bid him to work off the roman gods, specific ones associated with water. anakin had clearly chosen the story of neptune and his wife, salacia. the trident of neptune was prominent, you could see the first scene of the island the god met his nymph on. you sink on the tiled floor, your head tilted back in awe.

"do you like it my good lady?" a voice says behind you, startling you. you turn to look, seeing anakin in that white linen shirt, this time soaked through due to the weather outside, sparing you little to your imagination. you lower your eyes from his chest, not quickly enough you could assume.

"it's divine. unlike anything i've ever seen before. your mother is fortunate she witnessed your skill."

"i think she would agree."

a silence fell between the two of you.

"can i watch you paint?" you see something flicker in his eyes, which casts immediate doubt. "only if it will not trouble you."

"you would not be a bother. pray, have a seat. i can not promise it will prove to be good fun, though."

"i suppose i will judge."

and so you watch. you watch as anakin mixes paints, swirls them within the water before touching the brush to the ceiling, perched gracefully on the ladder he was given. you watch as he begins form on a dolphin, mesmerized by the way the hues of each color seem to be completely different but work so well. the blues were bright, brighter than the water that reflected against the ceiling.

your eyes start to flutter close at some point, having fixated on such activity for so long. leaned against the stone, the rain outside putting a lull over your head.

"m'lady." a gentle caress over your shoulder, soft blue eyes staring into yours. for a moment- you do not move, not letting the haze of sleep lift yet.

"pray pardon me, anakin. i did not mean to doze. i'll be returning inside, grammercy- your painting is splendid."

you attempt to rise, stumbling slightly. he offers a hand, and you take it, his warm palm melting into yours. you feel the familiar warm in your cheeks once more, dipping your head to acknowledge your quiet thanks.

you begin to watch him paint after that. you sneak out to avoid your mothers questioning eye, sometimes the stare of the handmaiden when you would be seen multiple times a den crossing through the gardens. you would bring him fruits, water, any excuse you could think of to linger. he never seemed to be displeased, received it all with a joy, enthusiasm, and you basked in his returned affection.

at night, you would lie awake, entertaining your deepest fantasies, something your parents would never allow- especially when your father has been dabbling in looking at suitors for you to marry off. but when you're in your own mind, where your father and mother can't interfere, anakin was who you wanted to take your maidenhood. you did not know how old he might even be, maybe he might even be wed, but you did not care.

yet, at night, anakin lie awake, burdened by thoughts not unlike your own, wondering how a man like himself can fit into the order that is placed in your family.

divider by : @/honeyluvsw

Warnings/notes: Sam eating you out, car sex, sub Sam if you squint.. moody x sunshine au

You lived with your mom after your parents divorced, since your dad was a drunk. You lived in a nice neighbourhood, but your neighbour, George, lived in a small shack. He was known as rude, though he and your mom used to date, so they weren’t technically on bad terms..

One day, you were sitting on your porch, writing in your journal when you heard a car pull up. You looked up and saw a boy, around your age, getting out of the car. He had black and blue hair, piercings on his face, and dark clothing. He was the cutest boy you had ever seen. He had a suitcase, brining it inside George’s house. Who was that? His son, perhaps?

He looked over, noticing you. You quickly looked back down to your journal, embarrassed you had got caught staring. When you looked back up, he was gone, probably went inside the house.

Later that night, you were washing the dishes when your mom came into the kitchen. “How was your day, honey?” She asked, grabbing a towel to help you dry the dishes.

“It was fine, boring.” You sighed. She chuckled softly. “Well, we have a new neighbour. Georges son is living with him now.” She said, which made you pause for a split second. So you were right, that boy was his son!

“Do you know his name?” You asked, pretending not to care. She told you his name was Sam. Sam Monroe.

After you finished washing the dishes, you ran up to your room, grabbing your journal. You had no idea what to write, but then Sam crossed your mind. You started to write about him, his appearance, maybe some fantasies..

As you were writing, you heard some commotion coming from outside your window. Curiously, you looked out and saw Sam arguing with his father about god knows what. You quietly watched and listened.

Sam stormed out of the house, fuming. He refused to take a shit in the same room that he eats. He lit a cigarette, holding it to his mouth as he inhaled. Oh my god. You couldn’t help but watch, he looked so hot!

Sam happened to look up at your window, and caught you watching him, again. You smiled, politely waving. He didn’t wave back, and looked down to the ground.

Your chest tightened as he ignored you, and quickly closed your curtains. “God, why would I wave?!” You muttered, annoyed and embarrassed with yourself.

The next day, you were watering your flowers on the porch. They were your favorite, Lillies. You could smell smoke in the distance, weed. You looked up and saw Sam trying to light his spliff, but his lighter wasn’t working. You happened you have one on you. You made your way over to him. “Hey, need a lighter?” You asked, holding it out to him.

He eyed you for a second before taking the lighter from your hands. “Thanks.” He said, lighting the spliff. He inhaled before turning to you. “Do you smoke?” He asked. To be honest, even though you graduated, you had never tried weed before. You only smoked a cigarette in the 8th grade with your friends, and you hated it. You shook your head. “No, never.”

He smirked at that, almost mockingly. “So you’re a goody two shoes?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “I’m not! I just.. don’t like it.” You said, trying to defend yourself, but he just laughed, handing the lighter back to you. “Then why are you still standing here?”

That made you pause. Why were you still standing there? Was it to talk to him? Probably. “Am I not allowed too?” You asked, tilting your head. He shrugged. “I guess.” He said, dryly, but you didn’t miss the way his eyes looked you up and down, it made your stomach twist.

You watched him smoke, an awkward silence filling the atmosphere. You quickly spoke up. “So.. what are you doing here? I mean- why’d you move in with your dad?” You asked, curiously.

He was quiet for a second before taking another hit. “He wanted me to.. I’m probably going to Tahoe soon.” That made you a bit disappointed. He was leaving? But he did say probably, which meant maybe he was staying. “You should stay.” You said before turning around and going inside your house again.

A few days passed after your interaction, and it was all you could think about. You hadn’t seen him lately, which was disappointing. You were in your room, just scrolling through tv channels when your mom came in your room. “Honey, I invited over George and his son over for dinner tonight. Dress nicely.” She said, taking some of your dirty clothes off the ground before leaving your room.

What the hell. Sam was gonna be in YOUR house? For the next two hours, you spent getting ready. Doing your makeup, straightening your hair, choosing a cute but slightly revealing outfit. You were touching up your makeup when the doorbell rung, making your heart beat faster. “He was here!” You thought, quickly finishing before going downstairs.

When you got downstairs, you saw Sam standing there with George and your mom in the kitchen. You walked over to him. “Hey.” You said, smiling softly. You watched as his eyes looked you up and down, making you a little shy. “Hi.” He replied, looking around your house before looking back to you.

“Wanna go for a drive?” He suddenly asked. You hesitated. A drive? Where were you guys going? But how could you say no to such an opportunity? “Sure. Where?” You asked as you both left the house, walking over to his house, towards his car.

You got in the passenger seat while he got in the driver seat. “To smoke.” He said, driving off. He grabbed a spliff from his pocket and held it in his mouth, lighting it with the other hand.

You glanced at him. “Y’know, you’re not supposed to be smoking and driving..” he smirked at that. “I do this all the time, sweetheart.” He said, smugly, but the pet name made you blush. Thankfully, it was dark out, so he couldn’t see how much of an effect he really had on her.

As he drove, he played his music on the radio, filling the silence of the car. Though it wasn’t an awkward silence, more comfortable. When you finally got to your destination, it was in the middle of a parking lot, no other cars around. He handed the spliff over to you. “Try it.”

He said. You stared at him, thinking about if you should take it or not. You took it, holding it to your lips and inhaling. He watched you intensely, watching the way your lips wrapped around it. He found you hot, really hot. He was just better at hiding it than you.

You started coughing, holding it away from yourself. He smirked in amusement, taking it back. “I forgot you don’t smoke.” He said, taking another hit. You wiped a tear quickly so it wouldn’t ruin your makeup you spent a very long time on. “This isn’t funny.” You said when you saw him smirking. “It kinda is.” He muttered, taking another hit. As you both shared the spliff, you started to feel it. You had never been high before, and it felt amazing. Like you were in the clouds.

You turned to him, laughing. “Is it normal for my mouth to be this dry?” He nodded. “Yeah.. some people get it, some people don’t. But most people do.” He said, ashing it out once it was done. You two spent the next hour talking, laughing, even he was laughing!

“And then I was like.. “you’re such a dick.” And I slapped him!” You laughed, telling him the story of how you broke up with your ex boyfriend. “Good. He sounds like an asshole.” He said, turning towards you in his seat. “I never knew you dated anyone.” He said. You shrugged. “A few people.. but nothing ever for long.” You said. He stared at you for a few moments before bluntly asking. “So you’ve had sex?” You paused. Yes, you have twice. And both times, were terrible. The guy was just focused on himself, you didn’t even cum the second time. You nodded. “Yeah.. but it was terrible. I don’t get the hype.” You said. Because of your bad experiences, you assumed that’s what it would always be like, because you had never been with the right person.

He scoffed. “It’s not bad. You’ve just had bad fucks.” He paused, thinking about something before continuing. “Want me to show you how it really is?” He asked, looking you up and down. The atmosphere in the car changed. Maybe it was the weed making you horny, or him, but he was obviously feeling it too. You didn’t say anything and nodded.

He smirked and quickly got into the backseat, dragging you with him. Your heart raced even faster, the weed making you loose balance and fall on top of him. He caught you, smashing his lips against yours. You gasped softly, but kissed him back, wrapping your arms around him. He laid you back on the seats, getting on top of you without breaking the kiss. He pulled back, taking your shirt off, throwing it to the front seat. He looked down at you, groaning at the sight of your breasts. He helped you take your bra off, before quickly leaning down and wrapping his mouth around your nipple, making your back arch into him.

You moaned softly as his tongue swirled around the sensitive bud. Your boyfriends in the past had never spent time focusing on you like this. He moved to the next nipple, giving it the same treatment. He pulled back after a few moments, kissing down your body, which made your panties even wetter. You bit your lip, watching as his fingers pulled down your skirt and panties in one go.

You saw his lips part once he saw your glistening pussy. He didn’t waste any time. He spread your legs open, keeping them open with his hands, before leaning down and attaching his mouth to your clit, his tongue flicking against it. You gasped, your hands moving down to grab onto him for support. He moaned against your pussy, eating you out like he was starving. Which he was, for you.

He moved one of his hands, pushing two fingers inside you. Your eyes rolled back as he curled them just at the right spot, your moans and the wet sounds of your pussy filling the car. You started to clench around him, which let him know you were close without saying anything.

He continued until you came around his fingers, moaning as he licked up all your juices. You panted softly, your thighs quivering. “Holy shit..” you groaned, sitting up on your elbows, looking down at him as he sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“That was fucking amazing..” he said, before crawling back on top of you.

Authors note: Hi guys I’m so sorry I haven’t posted in so long I have been very busy and burnt out. But I’m definitely going to start again starting today, love you! 💋