A/N: The engagement from the last piece was very motivating. So basically, this is y'alls fault. Enjoy the debauchery! Also, I made a banner. Go me, teehee (ﾉ≧ڡ≦).
I guess this is my first truly detailed smut writing. As always, engagement is appreciated. Reblogs, notes, and likes are great. Check out my other work here. Check out my short Robert Fic too. There's also a pt.2 and pt.3. Requests are open lovelies. Got a fresh ko-fi as well.
Warnings: MDNI. Smut. Female reader. AFAB reader. Cunnilingus. Referring to female genitals as she. Pet names. Filth under the cut.
-He’s a lazy munch. But hell, he’s fucking persistent. Honestly, this man will stick his face between your thighs for shits and giggles. Only instead of giggles it’s the sound of his tongue lapping you up for fucking hours.
-He’s not super vocal when he’s going down on you, but fuck the man eats and drinks your shit up like its a meal in itself. It takes all of 15 minutes for him to get pussydrunk, after that is where he’s probably the most audible. The man grunts and hums, you swear he probably forgets you’re there half the time.
-The man has gotten it down to a science. He’s an active observer; it's in his nature to notice things especially pertaining to you. The way his spit mixes with your slick and runs down his chin like syrup is addictive. He’s filthy about it but unashamed about how diligently he eats.
-And filthy means filthy because the few times that man does speak is at it, your sodden cunt that is.
-”Look at her, she’s ready for it, huh?” He’d mutter before sliding his tongue up and down those puffy lips.
-”Fuck, I didn’t even start, babe. She’s drooling down here.” He’d be briefly amused before pushing his face into your pussy. His nose nudging your clit, his tongue shoving itself in and out of your hole.
-He’s done it so much he’s got different modalities depending on his mood. Your favorite is when he’s got your pussy in a mating press, calves resting on his shoulders while he’s holding up your ass. The face down ass up is a classic second.
-Carpet burn. He doesn’t clean shave. But that’s on purpose, because the fucker knows when his stuble bullies your folds while he’s munching your clit, you make puddles. So you can’t complain too much.
-He’s a lazy munch because there is no urgency. He doesn’t let up. That’s why you think he’s deadass using it as a meal substitute. Because only after hours and hours worth of grool and spit has coated your thighs, cunt, and his face.
-Only after, you know the mattress is fucking ruined because the puddles soaked through the towel and the sheet, is when he’ll finally pull back. But no problem, he wants you to sit on his face anyway.
A/N: See what y’all started. Smh. \(. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)/ Anyways, commence the debauchery. As always feel free to reblog, like, and comment. Here's how you horny fiends brought this about pt.1 and pt.3. My masterlist as well. I also have a ko-fi.
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI. Smut. AFAB reader. Female reader. Explicit descriptions of sexual acts. Riding. Referring to female genitalia as she. Pet names. Filth below the cut.
-After too many soaked sheets the de-facto is now face-sitting. He loves it. He can get all your slick now. Like a fucking fountain. Your plush thighs hugging both sides of his face, and your drooling cunt smothering him. He’s not a big theologian, but this has got to be paradise right?
-He also loves it because his ass is fucking lazy. You’re doing the work. Whether your hands brace the headboard or drag the sheets for grip, you're the one grinding your slobbering folds up and down like a metronome.
-He gets off seeing you like that. All fucked out, all jerky and uninhibited. That’s also why when you do fuck, you’re almost always on top.
-Correction, you’re always on top. Because to Robert, you are a sight beholden. Watching the tremble in your thighs as you sink down onto his leaking tip. No, that right there, that’s ecstasy.
-Watching you desperately finding a perch for your hands after bullying half his length in your drooling cunt. That was his heaven.
-He'd just watch in awe for the first few minutes after your hips finally sunk all the way down. He wasn't girthy, that fucker was long though.
-And when your warm, gummy, walls would flutter around that dick. He could cum right there. He had many a time.
-The way you would milk his already weeping dick with just the glide of your hips was his favorite. Don't act like the fucker doesn't have a tinge of masochism within him.
-Then a lift, and a plap. “Fuck, babe.” It's always a low dragged out groan. His hands finding your hips, just to settle. Just out of habit.
-”Come here, baby.” It's almost reverent the way he says it. He'll pull you close.
-Just like the spasms in your pussy, his grip flutters. Now, was the pièce de résistance, the part that made him welcome death because he had gotten this.
-When he watched you bounce. This was his magnum opus. The blissed out look on your face. The sinful squelching of your sodden cunt with each PLAP of your ass hitting his groin.
-The way your nails dug into his shoulders and your mouth fell open, dumb. That did him in. Always.
-”I'm gone, baby.” He’d always whisper it. Then he'd shoot his hot load into your begging hole. His hips would shudder, but he'd keep rutting until he saw that ring of white at the base.
-"Shit.” He'd rest his sweaty forehead against yours. You're both panting, coming down from the debauchery.
-”She's got me whipped.” He chuckles softly, when you’d swat his shoulder to admonish. “Sorry, both of you.” He corrects.
-He doesn't move afterwards, because again, he's lazy. He'll hold your limp form against his chest. But he doesn't mind. He doesn't mind. Even the cockwarming is by design. Those silken walls, the occasional twitch, his bliss would start soon again.
-And he didn't even have to move for it to happen.
A/N: I couldn't get this idea out of my head. So now I'm making it y'alls problem. (∗´ര ᎑ ര`∗). Don't mind the grainy ass image I just couldn't find a gif I liked so I cropped the picture, sue me ¯\_ (ᵕ—ᴗ—)_/¯. Middle of the week pick me up hopefully. I should be on track to wrap up Something New in about a chapter or two. Once again thank you guys for the engagement! As always please feel free to like, reblog, and interact my lovelies! Links to the main where you can find the rest of the series as well as other works. We're creating the cinematic universe equivalent to smut headcanons lol.
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI. Smut. AFAB reader. Female reader. Explicit descriptions of sexual acts. Referring to female genitalia as she. Pet names. Penetrative sex. Squirting. P in V. Filth below the cut.
-Stamina was one thing, but you were pretty sure that this was something much deeper, pun intended.
-Robert is lazy, we know this of course. But this had to be something else entirely. This had to be someone else entirely.
-Your face was buried into the pillow and you were letting out sounds equivalent to that of a mare in heat.
-Your hands gripping the sheets for perch with no avail because all you were doing was bunching them up.
-The corner was completely pulled off the mattress because each time he snapped his hips into you, the bed lurched.
-Your poor pussy had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Not that she wanted to, the sounds she made, the juice she was spilling were a crystal clear sign of just how good it felt.
-He leaned over you, like everything else he doesn’t let up. That’s why despite that steady deepstroke, you could feel the beads of sweat that dripped off his nose fall down your back.
-That agonizing pace paired with his muttered expletives and sweet words were making your brain go hazy.
-The fact that he was just as honed into your body’s reactions was sending you too. “Right there?”
-The juxtaposition with how tenderly the words would leave his lips to what he would say had your cunt quivering so bad.
-Weeping from both top and bottom because his long cock was lock and key with your pussy, and he loved to remind you.
-“She’s a perfect fit, babe. Fuck!” He’d groan out before placing a lingering kiss behind your ear. He’d press his hips flush and go still for a second just to let you feel him twitch, you’d whine.
-“I know, baby. But I gotta take a break, need her to finish before me.” He’d say with a breathy chuckle and a gentle kiss against your temple.
-He’s not a tease, so he’ll pick up right after. That heady swing back and forth before his hand would trail down your stomach to find that swollen clit.
-You’d jerk away at first but you didn’t have anywhere to go. He coax you back with those saccharine words and gentle pecks.
-“Easy, baby. I got her.” Your thighs were trembling. The coiling tension spreads from your cunt to your toes.
-After running a few tortuous circles against that throbbing clit he pulled you upright. Sinking back onto his heels as he held you up.
-“Go ahead, baby. Wanna watch her let go.” That was all it took for your hips to start their almost feral grind back and forth.
-Your pussy gripped around him like a vice as you rocked yourself on his tip like an animal. You didn’t care how you sounded. You didn’t care how you looked. He reveled in it though.
-His fingers found your puffy clit once more as he watched you. Watched your jerky movements, the chase and desperate sounds as he felt you getting closer and closer.
-He gave one quick slap to your clit and that had you done. You nearly arched off of him. Your thighs trembling as he cupped his hand to catch that slick dribbling out your cunt.
-He grit his teeth as he felt that pressure, that clench. He rode you through as much of it as he could before he let out a shuddering breath against your temple.
-You both fell forward. You face down with his weight laid on your back. He rolled off and pulled you over so you were draped over him.
-“You looked so pretty when you came.” His voice is low and reverberating. Then he’d look down and lift your chin.
-“But, you know you’re even prettier on top.” You would’ve smacked him upside the head. But you knew better. “Lazy 𝓯𝓾𝓬𝓴.” You grumble against his chest.
A/N: In between working on the next chapter for something new this was stuck in my head. Never say mama doesn't feed y'all.
ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ ). Anyways, commence the debauchery. As always feel free to reblog, like, and comment. Links to pt.1 and pt.2. My rules as well. I also have a ko-fi. I teased the next one at the end, did y'all catch it ( - ᴗ •́ ).
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI. Smut. AFAB reader. Female reader. Explicit descriptions of sexual acts. Oral sex. Male receiving. Pet names. Filth below the cut.
-Giving him head is always fun. He’s his most reactive then. He's always so gentle too. It's kinda cute. We know he’s lazy at sex. This isn’t too different, he just gets to lay back.
-He'll have his hand tangled in your hair. Just as a perch. He doesn't push or guide. It's more like his quirk.
-His abs ripple, he'll twitch, you loved to pull the occasional sharp gasps from him. He’s so responsive, more vocal here than with anything else.
-”Fuck!” He'd shudder out as you spit on his head. You always start the same. Licking a long stripe from balls to tip. Gathering up as much drool as you could.
-Then you'd let the wad drip from your lips where you'd use it to coat his red, mushroom head. Watching you do it made him leak more.
-The precum would drag down his cock. Simply weeping for you to close your soft lips around it. You'd tease him first though, you always did.
-You would enclose your lips around his tip, locking it in. You'd prod his dripping slit with your tongue. You would swirl and poke, sucking and humming to begin the stimulation.
-His eyes would close as he dropped his head back against the headboard. His own sounds are a release of low drawn out groans and breathy words.
-“So good, baby. Feels so good.” The last word or syllable always dragged out in a low groan. Then, when you’d start taking his length down your throat he'd start his grunts and moans.
-Ah…ah! Fuck! It's warm, baby. Fucking hot!” He’d grit out from time to time. The noises always got him too. He was long after all. The squelching gags were inevitable.
-But they were so hot. The feeling of his length hitting the back of your throat. The globs of spit coating his dick and your face. Fuck, it was like a movie.
-He'd wipe at the side of your mouth with his thumb. You looked so fucked out. He loved that. Loved you. Loved how it felt like your throat was made just to gag on his cock. That it was made to house his dick.
-The times you would manage to take all of him in, the times your nose would hit the trimmed hair of his crotch, he’d arch a bit. Reflexively, his hips pushing up to chase the feeling.
-”God! I’m gone!” The only time his grip would tighten in your scalp and he’d go still. Your eyes never leave his form as he came undone.
-The flex in his abdomen followed by his hot seed filling your mouth. His half-lidded expression which you would mirror with siren eyes of your own. You were always so proud of yourself.
-You’d swallow while he was still in your mouth. Sometimes causing some overstimulation as he could feel your throat constrict and relax with each gulp.
-”Shit! Easy, babe.” You’d then release him with a pop. You crawl up his body and meet him for a sloppy kiss. He groans into it and pulls you down onto him. His hand tracing the line of your spine.
-A kiss against your hairline as his free hand rested on your hip. “Love you. So much.” He’d sigh, satisfied after his spent.
-You’d whisper your own into the crook of his shoulder. He’d move his hand to run through your hair. Just the two of you, coming down from the high. Until he’d smirk.
-"You’re wet.” Even though he says it so matter-of-factly you know where the fucker was going. His fingers already started their descent. Not so lazy now, huh.
A/N: Did y'all guess it? Good job(＞ω＜)♡. General updates, I have more where this came from and part 4 of Something New is coming out on Friday. It's going to be a bit longer so, thank you guys for the engagement. As always please feel free to like, reblog, and interact my lovelies! Links to the main where you can find the rest of the series as well as other work and my ko-fi. To the debauchery!
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI. Smut. AFAB reader. Female reader. Explicit descriptions of sexual acts. Fingering. Referring to female genitalia as she. Pet names. Filth below the cut.
-Robert was a menace at times. An unabashed one at that. Especially when it came to playing with your pussy.
-Just like everything else this man did to you it was the build-up that was excruciating. The lack of urgency. The drawn out touches just to have your body taut and your cunt weeping.
-He loved to play with you in that lap dance position. Back against his chest as he had your legs wide open on either side of him.
-The way your head would loll itself back into the crook of his shoulder when he started pressing feather light touches to your clothed clit was adorable to him.
-He could watch you completely. Watch the crotch of your panties get soaked through until you are grinding against his hand, begging for friction.
-Hot breath and soft mewls against his neck as you whine for him to stop playing. Couldn’t he see the mess you made. The slick drooling from your pretty pussy, your throbbing clit.
-The sharp gasp you’d suck in when he pushed aside that sodden cloth and ran his long digits through those glistening folds was adorable.
“Tell me where, baby.” He would whisper before kissing your earlobe. Even though he knew damn well what you needed. He just loved the blissed out way you’d ask.
-He’d huff out a laugh after your whimpering request. Then he’d suck in his own breath as he sunk his fingers into that soaked hole. The way you clamped down, even on his fingers.
-Fuck, she’s still so tight, baby.” He’d hum before pumping them in and out at a steady pace. He’d add another, just to hear you gasp, just to watch her leak.
-He had your syrupy slick running down his wrist. He had pulled out, amused at your whine, to suck you off his fingers. He couldn’t get enough of your nectar.
-Not one to deny you pleasure, he’d resume his stimulation. He’d add his free hand to the mix to tease your clit.
-He’d have to coax you through it as your legs made to clench shut sometimes. “Come on, baby. I can’t make her feel good if I can’t see her.” He would tut.
-The sopping squelches, the panting against his neck, and the twitch of your thighs told him you were close.
-He’d lick a stripe up your neck. Leave a soft litter of kisses as he pumped and vigorously rubbed your clit.
-You’d arch up off of him when you finally squirted all over his hand. The flutter of your pussy relentless even as you came down. Your flushed body. Your half-lidded expression.
-That was definitely his favorite. Well, probably second favorite after lapping up the slick you got all on his hand.
-He’d definitely taste you after. He always did. He couldn’t help himself. He was a munch after all.
Edvard Munch, Kiss IV, 1902 Throughout his career, Munch used many different types of materials in his work, both to create prints and originals. This included woodcuts, which his famous work, The Scream, is commonly mistaken for. (The Scream is originally a lithograph.) Munch had complex and unsatisfying relationships with women, and was never married. Other versions use a dark color palette, which Munch changed here to better fit the woodcut format, which he often did when recreating works in a different medium. The lack of definition between the two subjects implies a loss of individuality when two are so intertwined, making the mood of a painting that would normally be considered jubilant one that is ominous and from a place of anxiety.
Edvard Munch, The Sun, 1909 We turn now to The Sun, painted for Oslo University's assembly hall. With its symmetry and vibrant colors, it shows Munch at his best. Comparing it to other works, it contrasts profoundly with his usual themes of anxiety, sadness, and loneliness. The strong theming of vibrancy and the life-giving aura of the sun shows Munch's own understanding of nature as a subject. Often considered an achievement of modern mural making, it stands tall alongside Munch's many great works.
Edvard Munch, The Sick Child, 1885 A theme Munch would return to often was the death of his sister. Johanne Sophie died of Tuberculosis at only 14. Her death, along with a few other losses in Munch's life, would have a lasting impact on his work. Here, the impressionistic qualities of the painting and its focus on the anxiety and loneliness of losing a dearly loved one show shades of much of his other work. Like The Scream, the sick child has a few different versions, including a few paintings and a lithograph. An early work, the different forms of The Sick Child up to 1926 reflect his different uses of materials and printing methods as an artist.
