noon !

forever stuck on fictional characters. you just don't get them like i do !

[bebx]

[twolffsss]

𝑐𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑟ℎ𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑤 𝑎𝑙𝑝ℎ𝑎𝑏𝑒𝑡.

▎WARNINGS: smut.

▎A/N: not F1, but he’s been occupying my mind a lot.

𝑎 = 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒.

he’s surprisingly gentle for how brutal he fucks. he’ll scoop you up like you weigh nothing, carry you to the shower, wash your hair while kissing every mark he left. then wraps you in his hoodie and holds you against his chest.

𝑏 = 𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡.

his: his arms and shoulders, the way they flex when he pins you down or flips you around like you weigh nothing. also his mouth; the man knows how to use it for biting, sucking, and filthy praise.

yours: your thighs and hips. he loves gripping them hard enough to leave fingerprints, spreading you wide, watching them shake when he’s pounding you.

𝑐 = 𝑐𝑢𝑚.

cody’s obsessed with pumping you full and then keeping you plugged with his cock or his fingers so it stays inside. he loves watching it drip down your thighs after and then pushing it back in. he’ll eat his own cum out of you sometimes.

𝑑 = 𝑑𝑖𝑟𝑡𝑦 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑡.

he jerks off to videos of your previous sessions in the tour bus bathroom. he also lowkey gets off on the idea of knocking you up right before a big PPV.

𝑒 = 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒.

years of wrestling means he knows exactly how to use his body to overpower you, edge you, and make you tap out from pleasure.

𝑓 = 𝑓𝑎𝜐𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.

prone bone or full nelson. he enjoys pinning you completely, chest to your back, his weight crushing you into the mattress.

𝑔 = 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝑓𝑦.

he can be surprisingly playful mid fuck. that cocky grin when you’re struggling to take him, teasing you with "c’mon baby, you can take more than that, I’ve seen you do harder spots."

ℎ = ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟.

his body hair is masculine and trimmed, happy trail you love licking. he keeps everything downstairs neat but not bald so it feels real when you’re face down ass up.

𝑖 = 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑐𝑦.

eye contact the entire time so he can see you cum. he makes you feel like the center of his whole universe even when he’s being filthy.

𝑗 = 𝑗𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑜𝑓𝑓.

it’s frequent when he’s on the road. he sends you voice notes of him stroking, breathing heavy, telling you exactly how he’s imagining fucking you in the locker room after the show.

𝑘 = 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑠.

primal play (chasing you around the house then tackling you onto the bed), wrestling inspired manhandling/pinning, biting & marking, belt spanking, breeding, creampie eating, rough but loving dirty talk, light cnc/consensual struggle.

𝑙 = 𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.

hotel rooms after shows, the tour bus, empty arenas late at night (fucking you in the middle of the ring), his home gym, and anywhere semi public where the adrenaline of almost getting caught hits.

𝑚 = 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝜐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.

when you fight back a little: bratty, squirming, testing his strength. or when you’re soft and needy, calling his name all breathy while wearing his merch and nothing else. your mix of strength and submission drives him insane.

𝑛 = 𝑛𝑜.

anything that doesn’t feel good to either of you is an instant no. no ignoring you, no heavy degradation that doesn’t circle back to praise, no sharing. he needs the passion and connection.

𝑜 = 𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑙.

giving: it’s messy and greedy. he eats pussy like a starving man.

receiving: he loves when you drool on him, deepthroating while he holds your hair and praises you.

𝑝 = 𝑝𝑎𝑐𝑒.

he can go from slow and deep (grinding into you while whispering dirty talk) to brutal and fast, slamming into you. always powerful.

𝑞 = 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑒.

he loves them. he’ll pull you into a bathroom during an event, hike your dress up, and fuck you hard and fast against the door, hand over your mouth.

𝑟 = 𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑘.

high risk, high reward. he’ll finger you under the table at dinners, fuck you in the parking garage after press.

𝑠 = 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑎.

wrestler stamina is unreal. multiple long rounds, can fuck you for hours, recover fast, and still cum buckets. you’ll be limping and he’ll be ready for round three.

𝑡 = 𝑡𝑜𝑦𝑠.

he uses his wrestling gear: belt for spanking, ropes for light bondage, even the title if you’re into it. he had a toy collection for when he wants to edge you with a vibrator pressed to your clit while he fucks you.

𝑢 = 𝑢𝑛𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑟.

he teases you mercilessly. he makes you beg, makes you earn it. "not yet, baby. you’re gonna cum when I say."

𝜐 = 𝜐𝑜𝑙𝑢𝑚𝑒.

he’s loud and vocal when he cums. lots of "fuck yes, baby" and "gonna fill you up so good."

𝑤 = 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑑 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑑.

he once chased you through the house completely naked after a workout, caught you, threw you over his shoulder, and fucked you on the kitchen counter while still dripping sweat.

𝑥 = 𝑥 𝑟𝑎𝑦.

thick, long, veiny, with a slight upward curve that hits every spot. he gets rock hard fast and looks obscene when it’s flushed and leaking for you.

𝑦 = 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔.

the man is touch starved on the road and when he gets home he’s on you immediately.

𝑧 = 𝑧𝑧𝑧.

he passes out with you tucked against him, one leg thrown over yours. sometimes he wakes up hard in the morning.

[verytyphoonfun]

Sheltered farmboy Clark hates doggy with a passion. He thinks it’s degrading to women, and he hates it because he can’t see your pretty face. He wants to see your hazy eyes after a good fuck, wants to kiss you when he cums.

But you beg and plead and even cry. He trusted you for everything else, why not this?! You even give him the silent treatment for exactly 18 minutes. That’s enough to break him.

So Clark bends you over on your bed, apologizing profusely. His mama would smack him over the head for treating his girl like this. But he can’t deny how good you look, ass perked up in the air. You wiggle impatiently too.

Clark can see everything as he nudges your lips apart with the tip, how it glistens with each pass. He can watch as he slowly presses in, your puffy pussy struggling to take every thick inch. Your cute hole back there winks back at him too.

Clark settles his hands on your waist, slowly pushing into you. You gasp at the feeling; he’s so thick and long, and this position has him in your lungs. But when you nod weakly and tell him to move, all that blurs along with your vision.

It’s perfect, the angle hitting the right spots just enough to have you keening. You push back against his every thrust, your pussy soaking everything. There’s soft little plaps as his balls smack against your clit, and each one has your breath catching. Clark shifts his angle, just to get a better seat on his knees.

“Right there!” You cry out in a strangled whimper. You can feel his tip pressing on a new spot, right against the back. You go boneless and collapse face first. “There, Clarkie!”

Your desperate whimper has Clark whimpering too,. You can feel his hands tight on your waist, bringing you back. Clark’s staring at that little frothy ring around the base of his cock, and something snaps. He goes harder, knocking each whimper out of you with a groan of his own. Clark’s hand drifts to your clit, rubbing soft circles and sending you flying into your orgasm. Usually this is when Clark would stop .

But Clark’s too entranced with how your pussy nearly refuses to let go as he pulls back. He’ll even brush a thumb over your spread folds, and come at the sight of your pussy fluttering.

Later, when you’re spent with his seed dripping outof you, Clark will fuss over you. He’ll apologize for going too hard and too long.

“Next time, pull my hair,” You mumble .

Clark turns bright red at that, and protests amidst gasps and sputters. But the twitch of his cock against his thigh means you’ll get your way once again.

[bunnyrabbitfacts]

fact: rubs my little face rubs my ears

[kittennextdoor]

18+ Men who love the way you linger on them. ୨୧

The second he settles between your thighs, he’s already losing himself in it. Slow at first, like he wants to savor you properly. Open-mouthed kisses pressed against your inner thighs, his hands spreading you apart while he drags his tongue over your clit with a low sound in the back of his throat that almost sounds frustrated. Like no matter how many times he has you like this, it’ll never be enough.

And the worst part? He acts like he’s the one being spoiled. Every little reaction from you only makes him greedier. The twitch of your legs, the way your fingers slide into his hair, the breathy little noises you try to swallow down. He pays attention to all of it like he’s studying something important.

When you finally come apart for him, he doesn’t rush through it. Doesn’t pull away the second your body starts shaking. He stays there through every tremble, every pulse, drinking you in like he’s addicted to the taste of you specifically.

By the time he finally sits back, he doesn’t wipe his face immediately. He just licks his lips slowly, savoring the taste, eyes half-lidded like he’s high. His mouth is swollen and shining with your slick, lips parted slightly as his eyes stay on you the entire time, heavy and dark and still wanting.

You linger on him for hours afterward. He’ll be sitting in meetings, thumb pressed against his bottom lip while his mind drifts somewhere dangerous. Driving home with one hand tight around the steering wheel because he swears he can still smell you on his skin. Somebody will ask him a question, and he’ll blink like he’s just been dragged back into reality, thoughts still caught somewhere between your thighs.

It gets worse when the taste starts fading. He grows restless with it. Impatient. Checking the time too often, replying to messages too fast, already halfway gone mentally before the day’s even over. And the second he gets home, it’s more than obvious.

His bag barely hits the floor before his hands are on you, pulling you close with this urgency that makes your stomach flip. “C’mere,” he mutters, already guiding you backward, pulling your panties to the side. Like he’s been thinking about this all day. Like he’s been craving you all day. “Missed this,” he groans against your soaked folds, already licking into you again. “Been tasting you on my tongue all fucking day.”

With his face against your pussy with a groan that sounds almost relieved, you realize something that makes heat crawl up your spine. He could have anything he wants. Anything. But somehow, he keeps coming back to this like it’s the only thing in the world capable of satisfying him. Because the truth is simple: Once he’s had your pussy on his mouth, nothing else ever tastes the same.

[barbienextdoor]

mechanic!clark fucking you in his shop

The garage was quiet, the only sounds coming from the low buzz of the overhead lights and the distant tick of a cooling engine. You stepped out of your car in a tiny sundress, the hem barely covering the curve of your ass. Clark was already waiting, wiping grease from his hands, his white tank top stretched tight across his broad chest.

“You know the deal,” he said, voice low but warm. “You let me have you, and your car’s always taken care of. No charge.”

It had been like this for months now. Every time something went wrong with your car, you came to Clark’s shop. And every time, he made sure something small stayed broken so you’d have a reason to come back.

He walked over and bent you over the hood of your car without another word, flipping your dress up over your hips. You weren’t wearing panties. You never did when you came to see him.

Clark groaned softly at the sight, running a big, greasy hand over your ass before spreading your legs wider. “Always so ready for me,” he murmured. He freed himself from his jeans and rubbed the thick mushroom head along your slick folds before pushing in slowly, stretching you open with a deep, steady thrust.

You moaned, gripping the edge of the hood as he filled you completely. Clark leaned over you, one hand braced beside your head, the other holding your hip as he started fucking you with long, powerful strokes.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he breathed against your ear. “So tight and warm… been thinking about this pussy all week.”

He was deep and insistent, each thrust pressing you harder against the cool metal. His hand slid between your legs, fingers finding your clit and rubbing slow, firm circles.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered, voice thick with need. “Let me take care of you. Just like we always do.” He said, kissing your temple.

You came first, clenching hard around him with a broken moan of his name. Clark followed right after, burying himself deep as he spilled inside you, groaning softly against your neck while his throbbing length pulsed with every thick spurt.

He stayed inside you, breathing heavily, then gently pulled out. He cleaned you up, his touch careful and tender as always. After he fixed your dress, he kissed your shoulder softly.

“Oil change is done,” he said with a small, knowing smile. “But I noticed your brake lights are acting up again. You should bring it back next week.”

You turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “You really gonna keep breaking my car just to see me?”

Clark leaned in and kissed you slowly, his hand cupping your jaw.

“Every single time,” he whispered against your lips.

[trackgun]

pussy inspections with stevie 😖😖

he’s got you on all fours on his large bed and his hands are exploring your lower body. your head stretches back to watch his every movement, needing to see his every move and facial expression—craving his praise. he bends down to come face to face with your needy cunt, arousal glistening on your pretty folds. “aren’t you pretty,” he coos, bringing a large hand to inspect closer. he delivers a quick slap to your pussy before spreading your lips and spitting, making sure you’re nice and wet for him. you whine at the sensation and fight the urge to close your legs, thighs shaking as you arch your back. “don’t even think about it,” he warns, using his hand to spread your legs even wider. you nod with a whimper as he places messy kisses along your pussy, spending extra time in your puffy clit. your hands crinkle into the sheets as he circles around your hole, tongue almost poking inside the tightness. “god you’re fuckin’ pretty and you taste so good? how did i get so lucky with this pussy,” he moans, sticking a finger in. you wince at the stretch as he fingers you, slender fingers hitting deeper than you ever could. “got me soaked already too?” he chuckles, ego going through the roof. his nose brushes against you as he gives another wet kiss, giving your pussy a sort of reward. he drags the same finger along your folds and up to your ass, stopping and pushing his finger in, taking you by shock. “gonna have you here too one day, gonna take your virginity since i couldn’t do it the first time.”

[o528s]

gator fixing ur smart mouth by fucking you dumb <33

gator’s got you bent over the hood of his car, parked way out on some back gravel road where no one’s coming for miles. moonlight catches on the badge still clipped to his belt, the same one he flashed when he “pulled you over” twenty minutes ago for no real reason except he’d been thinking about your pussy all damn day.

you’d mouthed off, called him a try-hard with a small dick complex, well of course you didn’t mean it seriously, you were just in a bad mood the whole day. and now he’s proving you wrong in the most brutal way possible.

he’s buried to the hilt, slamming in so deep each thrust punches the air out of your lungs. your palms slap uselessly against the warm metal, trying to brace, but he’s got one big hand fisted in your hair, yanking your head back so he can see your face twist.

“thought ya’ had a lot to say earlier, huh?” he growls, “where’s all that big talk now? all i hear’s this dumb little whine comin’ outta ya.”

you try to snap back, something coherent, something biting, but all that comes out is a broken, “g-gator-fuck-too much-!”

he laughs, hips snapping harder. the wet slap of skin on skin echoes in the quiet night. “too much? naaah, baby you’re takin’ it just fine. look at you, droolin’ on my hood like a bitch in heat. can’t even talk right anymore, can ya?”

your thighs tremble, slick running down them. he’s been at it for what feels like forever, edged you with his fingers first until you were begging, then flipped you around and started pounding without mercy. every drag of his cock hits that spot that makes stars burst behind your eyes, over and over, no reprieve.

“p-please-” you gasp, voice cracking into a pathetic sob. words dissolve into nonsense: “ah-ah-gator-mmmh-s’good-too-too deep-!”

he reaches around, rough fingers finding your clit and rubbing messy circles. you jerk like you’ve been shocked, a high-pitched keen ripping out of you, “that’s my dumb little slut. can’t think, can ya? brain’s all fucked out. just a wet hole for me now.”

you’re babbling, half-formed pleas and his name on loop, “gator-gator-please-gonna-gonna cum-again-can’t-can’t stop-!”

he’s already made you cum twice, once on his tongue, once on his fingers, and now he’s chasing a third while he chases his own. your whole body’s shaking, oversensitive, every nerve screaming.

he spits down where you’re joined, watching it mix with your mess. “yeah, cum on my cock again. make a fuckin’ mess. gonna fill this pussy up-put a baby in ya so you remember who owns it. you want that? want me t’breed you stupid?”

you can’t answer properly, just a long, drawn-out whine, head lolling back against his shoulder as he manhandles you upright, back to his chest. his free hand wraps around your throat, feeling your pulse hammering.

“say it,” he demands, thrusting up hard. “say you’re my dumb little whore.”

“y-your-dumb-whore-” you choke out, tears pricking your eyes from the intensity. “please-gator-ne-need it”

he groans, pace turning sloppy, brutal. “fuck yeah, that’s it. cry for it. whine like the needy bitch you are.”

in seconds you’re screaming his name in fragments, body locking up as the orgasm rips through you, clenching so tight he curses under his breath. he doesn’t stop-keeps fucking you through it, drawing it out until you’re twitching, oversensitive whimpers turning into sobs.

“gonna hahh-gonna cum” he grits, burying deep one last time. hot pulses fill you, his hips stuttering as he grinds in, making sure every drop stays. “take it-all of it-fuckin’ mine.”

you slump against the hood, boneless, little hiccuping moans slip out every time he twitches inside you.

he stays pressed close, breathing hard, one hand petting your side almost gently now. “see?” he murmurs, “told ya i’d fuck that smart mouth right outta ya.”

[coasthaze]

kurt calling reader mommy for the first time while he sucks on her titties

hmmmmmmmmmmm 🧘🏻‍♀️🧘🏻‍♀️🧘🏻‍♀️🧘🏻‍♀️🧘🏻‍♀️🧘🏻‍♀️

plsplsplspls

-

#mommykink (18+)

kurt kunkle x reader

-

you’re lying back against the soft pillows, shirt pushed up and bra tugged down just enough for your breasts to spill free. kurt is curled into your side, his body warm and eager as he nuzzles closer. his mouth finds one nipple almost immediately, soft and tentative at first, then sucking with a quiet hunger that makes your breath hitch.

your hand rests gently on the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair in slow strokes. you don’t need to say much. you never do. the quiet command in your touch is enough. he knows to be good for you.

he moans softly around your nipple, the vibration sending a warm shiver through you. his tongue swirls, lazy and reverent, while his other hand cups the soft weight of your breast, thumb brushing the side. you let out a quiet sigh of approval, pressing him closer.

“that’s it,” you murmur, voice low and steady. “slow down, baby. take your time.”

kurt whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as he obeys. his sucking grows a little deeper, a little needier. he’s always been like this with you: starved for affection, melting the second you let him close. you watch him with half-lidded eyes, enjoying the way his cheeks hollow slightly with each pull.

then it slips out.

“mommy…”

the word is muffled against your skin, barely audible at first, but it lands like a spark. both of you freeze. kurt’s mouth pops off your nipple with a wet sound, his eyes snapping open wide in shock. his face flushes bright red, lips glistening.

“i..i didn’t- i mean-” he stutters, voice cracking. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to say that, it just.. it came out-”

you blink once, processing. the word echoes in your head, soft and unexpected, rolling off his tongue in that shy, desperate tone. it sounds…good. really good. something warm and possessive blooms low in your belly.

you cup his cheek gently, thumb stroking over the heated skin. “say it again,” you whisper, calm and encouraging, your voice barely above a breath.

kurt stares at you, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “w-what?”

“say it again, kurtie,” you repeat, still soft, still in control. your fingers keep petting his hair. “i liked how it sounded.”

he hesitates, breath shaky. his gaze drops back to your chest, then lifts to your face again. the surprise is still there, but there’s something else now: curiosity, a flicker of heat. he licks his lips.

“mommy,” he tries again, quieter this time, testing it. the word comes out a little stuttered, “m-mommy…” and his voice cracks on the second syllable, but it doesn’t sound wrong. it sounds sweet. vulnerable. his.

your lips curve into a gentle smile. you guide his head back down, pressing his mouth to your other nipple this time. “hm..good boy,” you praise softly. “..keep going.”

he lets out a broken little sound and latches on again, sucking harder now, like the word unlocked something inside him. his free hand grips your side, fingers digging in just enough to show how much he needs this. every pull of his mouth is accompanied by tiny, muffled whimpers.

“mm..mommy,” he mumbles again between sucks, the word slipping out more naturally this time, though still edged with that shy stutter. “f-feels…good. y'feel so good.”

you hum in response, your hand never stopping its slow, soothing strokes through his hair. “i know, baby. you’re doing so well for me.”

the room feels warmer, the air thicker with the quiet intimacy of it all. kurt’s body presses closer, one leg draping over yours as he loses himself in the act. he alternates between your breasts now, switching with wet, eager sounds, whispering that word like a secret every few moments..sometimes clear, sometimes stuttered and shy, but always with that underlying thrill.

you can tell he likes it too. the way his hips shift restlessly against your thigh, the way his breathing quickens. it’s not just embarrassment anymore. it’s relief. acceptance. something he didn’t know he wanted until it fell from his lips.

“you like calling me that, don’t you?” you ask gently, voice a quiet anchor in the haze.

kurt nods against your chest, not pulling away. “y-yeah…i do. it just..it slipped out and..a-and it sounded right. is that weird? does it make me weird?”

“no” you say simply, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “it makes you mine. and i like hearing it. a lot.”

he shivers at your words, sucking a little harder as if to show his gratitude.

[sparklingsin]

virgin!clark kent headcanons

+ clark kent x f!reader — basically, your first time with inexperienced clark. smut MDNI. wc. 870. wrote this in collab with @theworstwolvie: go read loser!clark headcanons

➦ virgin!clark not really knowing what is the appropriate duration of time to kiss you before he can touch your boobs. he keeps kissing you without touching anything and you have to actually move his hands to where you want them. and then, boy, do they wander.

➦ virgin!clark rubbing your clit really fast with half his super speed, no rhythm, no intent, just thinking women like vibrators so this must be fun. and then you screech and guide him, explain how it works for you and he has you moaning in five seconds flat.

➦ virgin!clark going down on your for the first time and spending an hour understanding how your body works. he's literally in there, using his fingers, his tongue, his nose, his teeth, to understand what makes his pretty girl tick. he's hungry and desperate to be used like your toy, loves it when you take hold of his hair and shove his head closer into your pussy. he's reveling in your scent, enjoying the salty taste of you and when you roll your hips against his mouth, he comes undone in his pants. he isn't even embarrassed about. maybe just a little.

➦ virgin!clark getting hard at the sight of you in nothing but your underwear. you don't even have to be fully naked. red-blue lace and he's fucking gone. he's already hard kissing you, of course. but if there was no foreplay. one look at you and he's already leaking.

➦ virgin!clark NOT swearing, instead saying "good gosh" when he slides in the first time, and you're screaming his name. "good heavens, you feel amazing." "gosh- this so excellent." "...clark please just say my name."

➦ virgin!clark not knowing the concept of dirty talk. "clark, it's where you call me name. call me your little slut." "ma told me not to call a woman such things." CLARK WHY ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT YOUR MOM DURING SEX— "just, tell me what you want to do to me, what you think of me, but like…don't hold back." "i—i want to make love to you, make you see all the stars in the galaxy— i just think you—you're the cat's pyjamas." "......" "clark kent. what the fuck."

➦ virgin!clark getting over stimulated when you take the lead and get on top. you pin him down and begin to ride him and he looks like he's about to come already. you're mesmerizing above him and before either of you can realise, his hips lift a couple inches off the mattress. "clark, honey, we're floating." "golly— i'm sorry i just got so lost in you."

➦ virgin!clark being a moaning, writhing, over-stimulated mess when you're giving him head the first time. his senses, which he has control over generally, have gone awry. there's dents in the sides of the couch he's been holding onto while you suck him off, and a burning hole in the ceiling from when he accidentally uses his heat vision when you make him come.

➦ virgin!clark already doing his best to stop himself from coming the second he enters you and feels your walls clench around him. it almost makes him black out— as if he were zapped by kyrptonite.

➦ virgin!clark being extra gentle and cautious with you when it comes to his strength. your legs are thrown over his shoulder as he presses in deep. "sweeheart, what if I forget and lean in too much and you get completely folded in half—" "clark kent, you have no idea how badly i want to be folded in half."

➦ virgin!clark blurting the most sweet, grounded, simple compliments in between sex accidentally. "perfect girl." "the most beautiful." "you're so pretty," he says, completely sincere, eyes wide and you can't help but chuckle. he's confused— "'m sorry, was that not right?"

➦ virgin!clark being completely overwhelmed in the middle of sex. by you, how beautiful you look, by the closeness, by the intimacy of it all. it makes him shudder, vibrate with all this energy that could explode out of him, so much so, that he has to bury his face into you to calm himself down.

➦ virgin!clark rocking slowly into you, not wanting to hurt you at all as he makes you stretch against his cock. you're a blubbering mess under him and it makes him lose his goddamn mind to see you like this. he's biting and scratching at your skin pathetically, doing everything in his power to not come before you do. he's already overstimulated from how tight your pussy feels around him. and anytime you buck your hips against his, a hiss escapes his teeth. you're making this so very difficult.

➦ just. virgin!clark coming inside you for the first time; a panting, moaning mess, he's holding you so tight, fingers digging into the skin of your sides and it fucking hurts, but everything is so warm and hazy, as he presses lazy kisses into your neck and up your jaw, not daring to move, still nestled deep inside you. "you're so perfect baby, so good for me, i love you." you can hear his heart beating really fast against your own. the fastest it's ever been. "love you too, clark."

loser!clark headcanons

[sunflowersand-bees]

jonathan byers who has back problems after being hit with a chair and thrown across a room in s3 and steve harrington who has migraines after a new head trauma every year

[oliveespineapples]

Possibly the least accurate thing in the whole ENTIRE FUCKING EPISODE is how Mike’s horrible memory when Joyce is killing Vecna is not of Will being excorsized in season 2

Or of Wil going missing

Or of him nearly jumping off the fucking cliff

Or of his parents nearly getting killed in front of his face

Or of the rain fight or of rink o mania or of the I love you scene. NONE of that shit

THATS the memory they chose for him. Fuck them. I’m gonna be sick

[byler-heart]

“I still don't like you, though.”

“I wouldn't want it any other way.”

“Hey, lovebirds!”

Can't believe stonathan is more canon than byler now. What timeline am I in?

[kidovna]

hey mike wheeler, how does it feel to never grow up and play games in your basement for the rest of your life while your other friends move on and find happiness?

[hawkinsvolvo]

they really hired baby miwi for no byler. i have to laugh

[anya-chalotra]

No, I love it. I love teaching these kids, you know? I get to teach them about the miracle of life and how to... not start it accidentally. And this time, I'm in control of the grades.

STRANGER THINGS 5 Chapter Eight: The Rightside Up

[enam3l]

i don’t even give it 12 hours before one of you sluts has a fic on here about fucking your son’s baseball coach big dick steve harrington