✧. ┊ rusty ryan
✧. ┊ cliff booth.
✧. ┊ david mills.
✧. ┊ sonny hayes.
✧. ┊ ladybug.
✧. ┊ louis de pointe du lac.
✧. ┊ achilles.
✧. ┊ dwight ingle.
✧. ┊ john smith.
✧. ┊ billy canton.
✧. ┊ jeffrey goines.
tom cruise characters
✧. ┊ pete 'maverick' mitchell.
introduction to the teacher's pet au - headcanons / suggestive + smut.
teacher's pet - teacher's pet! maverick x teacher! reader / suggestive.
eat first, coffee later - smut.
✧. ┊ lestat de lioncourt.
companion - fluff ( platonic! )
to find you here, so deep in the night - fluff + suggestive.
doll - fluff ( platonic! )
little mouse - fluff.
matt dillon characters
✧. ┊ rusty james.
✧. ┊ trip murphy.
not dumb, just dreamy - trip murphy x bimbo! secretary! reader / suggestive.
✧. ┊ john ryan.
✧. ┊ sam lombardo.
think i need someone older - neighbor!sam lombardo / smut.
how does he act when he's jealous? - blurb / 100 followers event.
✧. ┊ bob hughes.
✧. ┊ tex mccormick.
the outsiders (1983)
✧. ┊ the gang.
my headcanons for the gang! - mostly fluff /crack.
✧. ┊ dallas winston
✧. ┊ johnny cade.
✧. ┊ ponyboy curtis.
✧. ┊ darry curtis.
✧. ┊ sodapop curtis.
✧. ┊ steve randle.
✧. ┊ two-bit matthews.
✧. ┊ bob sheldon.
✧. ┊ buck merrill.
the outsiders ocs
✧. ┊ ricky mutt holloway.
✧. ┊ anthony butch butcher.
✧. ┊ jack woods.
✧. ┊ michael mccarthy.
rambo: first/second/third blood
✧. ┊ john rambo.
stranger things
✧. ┊ billy hargrove
✧. ┊ steve harrington
it 2017 / book
✧. ┊ steve 'moose' sandler. (info!)
young people fall in love with the wrong person sometimes - dating headcanons!
driving with my darling - moodboard !
✧. ┊ peter gordon.
✧. ┊ gard 'sissy' jagermeyer.
young people fall in love with the wrong person sometimes - dating headcanons!
✧. ┊ patrick hockstetter.
✧. ┊ henry bowers.
the breakfast club
✧. ┊ andrew clark.
✧. ┊ claire standish.
karate kid
✧. ┊ daniel larusso.
✧. ┊ johnny lawrence.
he loves my heart shaped sunglasses - fem!reader / beach day + fluff.
swimming pool parties - ex best friend!reader / friends to strangers to lovers ig?
class (1983)
✧. ┊ skip burroughs.
st. elmo's fire
✧. ┊ billy hicks.
saturday night fever
✧. ┊ tony manero.
grease
✧. ┊ the T-Birds.
✧. ┊ danny zuko.
✧. ┊ kenickie murdoch.
✧. ┊ doody.
✧. ┊ sonny.
✧. ┊ putzie.
✧. ┊ betty rizzo.
✧. ┊ sandy olsson.
black cadillac - dating sandy headcanons! / fluff.
✧. ┊ stu macher.
pet project - platonic! yandere billy & stu x tatum's! sister reader / angst + dark.
✧. ┊ billy loomis.
pet project - platonic! yandere billy & stu x tatum's! sister reader / angst + dark.
✧. ┊ randy meeks.
the lost boys
✧. ┊ dwayne.
✧. ┊ paul.
girl like me - dating paul as a baddass vampire headcanons! / fluff + suggestive.
✧. ┊ marko.
✧. ┊ david.
✧. ┊ star.
✧. ┊ michael emmerson.
✧. ┊ sam emmerson.
mr and mrs smith
✧. ┊ john smith.
bad boys and good girls - smut + pegging + sub john ( feat. jane smith )
✧. ┊ jane doe/smith.
bad boys and good girls - smut + pegging + sub john ( feat. jane smith )
Thank you all for the requests! I sort of combined them all, I hope you enjoy!🤍 (I kinda got carried away, sorry this is so long)
Warnings: fem!reader, legal age gap (teacher-student), smut, oral female recieving, pnv sex, squirting
I fall to pieces when I’m with you
It had all started when Sam – or what you really should know him by, Mr Lombardo – had noticed a disappointing slip in your grades. You had been his best student, passing with flying colours and shining like a star.
Though it wasn’t just your grades that really made you stand out, it was your beauty, your elegance and femininity that exuded from you every time you stepped into his classroom with your saddle shoes and a skirt far too short for school. But you were effortless, not a try-hard. You weren’t asking for anything; you had your own dreams and goals and didn’t want anything to stand in your way of achieving them, which was why it caused him to worry when he noticed the dark cracks that formed within you. Your eyes caved in dark plum skin, almost appearing bruised from a lack of sleep, and your shining A+’s dulled down to ugly D’s and E’s.
It was a heartbreaking sight, and Sam really couldn’t get your wounded image out of his head no matter how hard he tried. Now of course, he wasn’t the only one with obsessive thoughts. You were equally entangled in the fantasies that you secretly shared for one another. He was your favourite teacher, especially your favourite teacher to admire as his muscles flexed when writing on the board, and every time he praised you for your achievements, you felt an insatiable heat pool in the pit of your stomach.
Slowly, over the months, you found yourself in his office more and more often. Meetings disguised as work feedback which were really just a time for you to talk together about your favourite books or films. You two shared a lot in common, so it was unsurprising when an undeniable bond began to form, one that neither of you wanted to admit to for fear that it would be destroyed.
Seeing you less and less as well as seeing you slowly fall apart eventually led Sam to snap. He called you in to his office with a concerned gaze, peering at you through his glasses as you slumped in your chair whilst picking at your brittle nails, one leg thrown over the other, hiking up your skirt to reveal parts of your skin he had never seen before, and he had to remind himself as to why he really called you in here.
“So are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
There was no easing into the conversation, yet the question wasn’t abrasive; it was gentle and filled with genuine worry. When you remained silent save for a dry swallow, he leaned back in his chair and sighed.
“Look, I’m worried about you, okay? You seem so exhausted, and I’m not just worried about your grades. I want – need to know whatever it is that’s eating away at you.”
Truth be told, you honestly didn’t know what was wrong. You just felt empty…disconnected and tired, like everything was pointless. You knew he wasn’t talking to you as just a teacher but as someone who really did care for you. Months of talking about anything, as well as the stolen glances and racing hearts, was something bigger than the two of you had cared to admit. You felt safe talking to him, opening up to him.
“I just – I’m so tired.”
Your voice trailed off and broke into pieces, tears brimming your eyes.
Sam’s eyes softened, and he gestured for you to come over to him.
Standing on shaking legs like a fawn that was just learning to walk, you made your way around his desk and into his open arms, instantly melting into him as sobs wracked your body.
He pulled you onto his lap, one hand firm around your waist and the other cradling the back of your head.
“Shh, sweetheart, I know, I know. You’re okay.”
He held you for what seemed like hours until you finally calmed down, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head, stroking your back to comfort you.
When your sobs subsided, you glanced up at him, unable to say anything, but the look in your eyes told him everything he needed to know.
You wrapped your arms around his strong torso, clinging onto him tightly as if he was the only thing that could keep you safe.
He continued to mumble comforting words, wanting you to feel better.
“Everything’s going to be fine, yeah? We can sort things out; you just gotta stop hiding from me. I’ve missed my sweet girl; class hasn’t been the same without you.”
Your heart rate picked up as he spoke those words.
“I’ve missed you too, Sam, so much.”
Your face inched up closer to his, lips parting in anticipation.
“Baby you don’t even know.”
He murmured before pressing his lips against yours delicately, kissing you slowly with gentle passion and months of unspoken words all pouring out with a simple meeting of your lips.
You breathed heavily through your nose, sitting up in his lap and tangling your hands in his hair.
He eventually pulled away, placing a final peck against you.
You groaned, missing the feeling of him against you, and he stroked your cheek gently.
“I think I should take you home, hm?”
“Oh, okay.”
The disappointment was evident in your tone, and Sam was quick to pick up on it.
“I’d love to stay with you all evening, sweetheart, but you’ve had a rough day, and I don’t want to take advantage of you, okay? I’m not going anywhere, though, alright? How about you call me when you feel better and can think clearly? I’ll be waiting.”
Your face heated up as he made his feelings open to you, and though you wanted him so badly, you appreciated how careful he was with you, not desperate to just give in to lust.
The ride home was mainly silent, with occasional random conversations, but you felt so content sitting right next to him in the passenger seat of his run-down, forest-coloured pickup truck, driving along the roads of Blue Bay.
He parked a street away from your house and opened the door on your side of the truck and shut it behind you, pressing you up against it and pressing kisses to your lips.
“You just come find me whenever you’re ready, okay? Get some rest.”
You nodded and kissed his cheek before heading down the street with a newfound lightness to your steps, turning at the end of the street and blowing a kiss at him, causing him to chuckle and blow one back to you as he watched you disappear around the corner like you were a figment of his imagination.
Over the weekend, you spent hours talking to him on the phone. Lying in your sheets in skimpy pyjamas with the pink phone cord tangled between your fingers, stomach tightening at the sound of his voice.
You were nervous, not wanting to make the first move, though you knew it was what he was waiting for. A confirmation that you wanted to give in to the relationship that you two had built, a confirmation that you wanted him, wanted to be his.
After every call you turned onto your stomach, your hand creeping underneath your pink cotton shorts and damp undies to relieve yourself of the ache that he had caused to rise within you. You rubbed your puffy clit pretending it was his fingers instead, hips squirming against the mattress as his name fell silently from your mouth with heavy gasps.
You dragged your fingers down to your entrance, picturing what it would feel like to have his cock buried deep inside of you, knowing it would be so much bigger and reach far deeper than your nimble fingers. You pumped them in a few times, your cunt bucking into your own hand as you dreamed of his muscular body and gorgeous face, feeling yourself clench and spasm.
You always came with his name on your lips, eyes squeezing shut and legs trembling as you collapsed from exhaustion and a strange lack of satisfaction, one that you knew only he would ever be able to give to you.
By Sunday night you couldn’t take it anymore. Sinful desperation had taken over, and you knew exactly which door you would be knocking on the following morning.
You picked out your favourite underwear, a cherry red lingerie set that pushed your breasts up perfectly and panties that hardly covered anything at all.
You paired this with a blood-red gloss and made sure to layer mascara over your lashes, wanting your eyes to look like a doll’s, wide and wanting.
When you showed up at his office the next morning, shirt slightly unbuttoned to reveal the teasing red strap of your bra, Sam almost drooled, and he had just barely gotten a taste of the rest of what you were ready to give to him.
He could see the look in your eyes and the curve of your lips that were practically begging for him to come over and ruin you. He sat staring at you as you stood in his doorway before walking in and kicking the door closed behind you. He swallowed hard.
“Fucking hell, baby. Lock the door.”
He practically growled at you.
You did as he said and stood waiting for him; you wanted him to completely take you, wanted him to take control and have you the way he craved so badly.
He got up from his chair, its legs creaking with the loss of his sturdy weight, and strode over to you, large hands immediately grabbing your hips and smashing his mouth to yours, both of you moaning instantly.
His palm moved to cup your bare ass under your tiny skirt, lifting you up with ease and holding you against him; you could already feel his erection poking through your thin, lace panties. You mewled as he squeezed your flesh and carried you over to his desk, the two of you panting heavily with open mouths.
He stood between your spread thighs, red lace peeking out at him, causing him to harden further, if even possible, his cock visibly straining against his trousers.
He pulled away, your gloss smeared over both of your mouths, your lips swollen and quivering.
“God, look at you.”
He groaned, staring down at what he believed to be his own personal angel sent down from heaven just for him.
Your body heated up with his stare, thighs tightening around his hips.
“You want this? Want us?”
Sam panted, his question not just about the sex, but the two of you committing to what was so wrong but felt so right.
You nodded eagerly.
“Please, Sam. Been wanting you for months; I can’t take it anymore.”
He smirked, not sinisterly, but with pride and pure adoration. He loved seeing how desperate you were for him, feeling how long this had been torturing the two of you for all these months.
“Yeah, baby? Need me, huh? You know how much trouble we could get into and how wrong it is that we fell for each other?”
He leaned in to leave burning, wet kisses along the column of your neck, mumbling his words.
“But I’ve been needing you too, sweetheart. Feels so good, doesn’t it? Being together like this.”
You nodded furiously again, heart and thighs trembling in anticipation, not just for this moment but for all that was yet to come.
You moaned, bucking your hips against his erection, desperate for any sort of friction.
He was driving you absolutely crazy, your head spinning with desire.
“Fuck, I can’t take it. Touch me, Sam. Please – I need you to touch me.”
You pouted at him, eyes wide and pleading, your pussy aching for him.
“Oh, I know, baby; I’ll take such good care of you right here in this office, hm?”
He nipped your neck.
“Right where I have school meetings, where other teachers and students come in. I’m gonna fuck you right here, only you.”
He panted, fingers already fiddling with the remaining buttons on your shirt, then reaching to unbutton his too, leaving you both shirtless, your chests both heaving.
When he saw you in that scandalous bra, breasts bulging at the trim, he almost came right away.
“Shit. This all for me?”
“Wore it just for you, Sam, all for you.”
You leaned back on your hands, pushing your chest up towards him, and he immediately lost it, biting all over the exposed skin.
Groaning, you pulled his head closer towards you and continued bucking your hips, seeking that sweet friction once more.
His hands reached behind you to unclasp your bra, breasts bouncing as they were freed, and Sam closed his mouth against your nipple, swirling his tongue over it and sucking, drawing elicit moans from you.
His fingers pinched at the other one, not leaving any part of you untouched.
When he pulled away, the cool air hit against your wet breast, and you shivered from the sensation.
“Can't wait anymore, sweetie; can I taste you?”
His voice was hoarse with desire, and you were quick to mumble an almost incoherent “yes”, giving him permission to do what he wanted.
Wasting no time, he bunched your skirt up around your waist and almost tore your tiny panties as he dragged them down your legs.
Sam dropped down to his knees in front of you, admiring the new intimate flesh he now had access to, gripping your ass and tugging you closer to his face and burying himself between your thighs.
You almost exploded with the feel of him on your dripping pussy, letting out a pornographic moan as your thighs clenched around his head.
His tongue and lips were relentless on your cunt, licking and sucking over the soft flesh of your folds, humming into you, the vibrations causing you to shake and whine.
He pulled away for a split second to shush you gently.
“Try to stay quiet for me, baby. Don’t want anyone to hear what I’m doing to you, do we?”
Your lips pursed together in an attempt to stay silent, and your eyes rolled back as he continued to lap at your pussy like a man starving. He alternated between sucking your clit and fucking you with his tongue, each sensation sending you to a whole other world.
Your juices were smeared all over the bottom half of his face, which only egged him on, his cock painfully hard and leaking with precum, staining the front of his trousers, but his only focus right now was devouring you.
Small grunts continued to escape you, and you pushed his head further into your cunt.
He was clearly experienced, eating you out in such a precise way that showed he knew exactly what he was doing. You didn’t even think to be jealous of all those who came before you; you were just so lost in bliss that all you could care about was his mouth on your most intimate parts.
You felt that familiar sensation burning in your lower stomach, though it was so much more intense than all the times you had brought it upon yourself.
“Mm, Sam – fuck, I’m gonna-.”
He cut you off.
“Go on, baby, let yourself go, cum on my tongue.”
His praising words against you pushed you over the edge. You shook hard as you cried out, your orgasm completely taking over you as you felt him continue to lick at you.
Eventually, you came down from your high and collapsed back onto the desk, and Sam pulled himself away from you, pressing gentle kisses on your inner thighs.
He licked your slick off his mouth and hummed.
“You did amazing, sweetie; you taste so fucking good.”
He pulled your limp, trembling body up from the desk and met your lips with his own, letting you taste yourself against his tongue.
“Was so-fuck-so good, Sam.”
You murmured, arousal already reigniting within you with the way he touched your skin and held you so close.
“Think you can handle one more? You got me so hard, baby; I need to feel my sweet girl around my cock.”
“Mhm, need to feel you inside me; been waiting so long.”
At your words he gripped your waist and flipped you onto your stomach, so you were bent over the desk with your ass up.
He was quick to undo his belt and free his aching length from his pants and boxers, running his hands up and down your back, giving your ass a gentle slap before lining himself up with your hole.
“Sure you want this? We can always stop.”
He mumbled into your neck as he leaned over you.
“No. Don’t stop.”
You pushed your ass back against him, drawing a deep groan from both of you.
After your consent, he pushed himself inch by inch into you, stretching your walls around his thick cock until he was fully buried within you.
Panting, he waited for you to give him the okay to move, growling as you did so and immediately thrusting into you, slowly at first.
“Sam, harder, faster.”
Those were the only words you could get out as you lay your head down against the desk, unable to hold yourself up due to the blinding pleasure you were currently enduring.
At your demand, he rutted his hips harshly into you, your ass smacking against your hips as he pounded into you at a brutal pace, the two of you hardly able to contain your moans.
You were practically falling to pieces right there beneath him, mumbling nonsense as he fucked you stupid, occasionally smacking your ass.
He pressed more gentle kisses along your back to soothe you, wanting to show you how much this moment meant to him.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect for me. Feel so fucking tight and good around my cock, taking me so well like such a good girl.”
He lifted your hips up to help you stay upright and fuck you at a deeper angle, the head of his dick nudging your cervix, having you practically sobbing beneath him, from pleasure this time, not sadness.
He could feel the both of you grow close to cumming, so he flipped you over without pulling out.
“Want to see your pretty face when you come around me, sweetheart. Want to watch you fall apart for me.”
You were achingly close and felt an unfamiliar sensation build within you.
“Feels weird.”
His face hardened.
“Bad weird?”
“No good weird, really fuckin’ good, just different.”
You mumbled as Sam began to smile.
“Just let it happen, baby. Go on, let yourself feel it all.”
His words came out through gritted teeth; he was just as close as you were, but he wanted to watch you finish first.
Suddenly, you felt yourself burst. Orgasm spreading through you like a wildfire, and you squirted all over his cock, thighs, and stomach. Liquid shot out of you, soaking the floor and desk as you cried out in heavenly pleasure.
The sight of you sent him spiralling, pulling out of you and shooting hot ropes of milky cum all over your smooth stomach, groaning your name as his eyebrows furrowed.
“Fuck, did you know you could do that?”
He panted.
You shook your head, feeling slightly embarrassed at the huge mess you’d made.
Sam lifted your chin to look at him.
“Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, sweetheart. Going to make you do that every time.”
He picked you up and kissed your face softly.
“C’mon, let’s get cleaned up.”
He chuckled, carrying you over to the small bathroom in his office, wiping both of you down with a damp washcloth.
After you were both clean and dressed again, you laid together on the leather couch, at peace in each other’s arms.
“You’re my girl, yeah?”
“Your girl.”
You whispered back to him, feeling sleepy as your face rested against his bicep.
“Don’t you worry about those grades, yeah? I’ll take care of them; you’ve worked plenty hard.”
Smiling, you felt the sleep overcome you, fully relaxed here with him.
or... matt looking through the lattest magazine number you appear on.
warnings : pure smut, blowjob! daddy material matt right here.
ᐟᐟ ⟢ a/n: HE'S SO FUCKING HOT I CAN'T I LOVE HIM I NEED HIM TO BE THE FATHER OF MY CHILDREN.
( 🏷 @callme-holly , @twobitsblade )
♱ *ೃ.⋆
You hear him before you see him. That is, Matt’s heavy footsteps echoing across the polished marble of his penthouse. He’s just come out of the shower, a towel lazily slung around his hips, his hair still damp and disheveled in that rough, careless way that makes your stomach flip. He always looks like he couldn’t care less—and that makes him irresistible.
He flops down on the long leather sectional like he owns the universe—legs wide, taking up way too much space, letting his presence swallow the room whole. One hand rakes through his wet hair, the other reaches lazily for the newest copy of Playboy.
Your issue.
You watch from the floor, kneeling in front of him like a good little showpiece, his towel a dangerous slip away from scandal. But he doesn’t even look at you yet. No. He’s too busy flipping through the glossy pages, slow and deliberate, his finger pausing occasionally as he scans the layout.
“Goddamn,” he mutters, his voice low, rough, that lazy drawl soaked in gravel. “They really let you pose like this, huh?”
You bite your lip and nod. Your voice comes out a little breathless. “Mhm… they said it would be a special spread.”
He glances down at you with a crooked smirk, like he’s looking at a puppy that accidentally learned a new trick.
“Special, huh?” He flips another page, whistling. “You do realize most girls your age are still figuring out how to microwave popcorn and pass Psych 101, right? And here you are, tits out, pouting like a little airhead on a fur rug.”
He chuckles, shaking his head, but there’s heat in his gaze. Possessiveness. Approval.
“Jesus. You don’t even know what they’re really selling, do you?”
You blink up at him, confused, but a little turned on by the way he talks to you—like you’re dumb, like you’re precious, like he owns your brain along with your body.
“I mean, yeah… it’s me. My pictures.”
Matt leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. So close now that his voice practically rumbles through your bones.
“No, baby. They’re selling the fantasy. This big, stupid, perfect-eyed fantasy of a girl who thinks being pretty is a personality. Who giggles when a man talks down to her… who drops to her knees the second he tells her to.”
His hand slides down to the towel. Loosens it.
“Which,” he adds, eyes fixed on you, “is exactly what you’re about to do, isn’t it?”
You nod, dumbly, eagerly, cheeks hot with blush, thighs pressed together with need. The part of you that’s still pretending to be a grown woman shrinks, fades, drowns in the deep, gravel-and-iron tone of his command.
Because when Matt talks like that, you don’t think.
You obey.
With the movemenMatt’s towel slides off his hips like gravity’s finally caught on. He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move to cover himself. Just sprawls there, big and solid, legs spread, cock heavy against one thigh, already thickening under your hungry gaze.
He catches you staring and lets out a slow, smug chuckle.
“There she is,” he murmurs. “My little centerfold.”
You feel heat rush to your cheeks. It’s not the praise that gets you—it’s the way he says it, like he’s laughing at you and owning you in the same breath. Like you’re not a model, not a woman, not anything except his dumb, glossy toy to play with when he’s bored between scotch and scripts.
He flips back a page, tapping the image of you on all fours, looking over your shoulder with parted lips and blank eyes.
“This pose here? Fuckin’ textbook. Bet the editor had a field day with this one. You even know why they picked it?”
You shift on your knees, thighs squeezing.
“No… I just thought it looked cute.”
Matt barks a short laugh. “Cute? No, baby. It’s not cute. It’s obedient. That’s why. You look like you’re waiting for someone to unzip and fill your pretty little mouth.”
You whimper, softly, breath catching as his words wrap around you like a leash. You feel it—the thick, sweet fog settling in your head, making it harder to think, easier to feel.
He sees it. Loves it.
“Oh yeah… I know that look.” He leans forward, gripping your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tipping your face up to meet his. “That’s your bimbo face, sweetheart. All soft and pink and needy. You got one thing on your mind, don’t you?”
You nod, helplessly.
His thumb presses against your lower lip. “And what’s that, baby?”
You try to speak, but the words get stuck in your throat. It’s not fear. It’s need. Thick and sticky, dripping down your spine, pooling between your legs.
“Say it,” he growls. “I wanna hear it.”
Your lips part, your voice a whisper. “I wanna suck your cock.”
His smirk is pure sin. “Yeah, you do. That’s my girl.”
He leans back again, arms draped along the back of the couch like he’s the fucking king of the penthouse—and maybe he is. You’re not thinking about anything else but him now.
“You gonna do it while I read your little magazine spread?” he asks, stroking himself slowly. “Let Daddy admire all the glossy little poses you made just for other men to drool over, while you keep your mouth right where it belongs?”
You nod. Climb into place.
He doesn’t rush you. That’s the thing about Matt—he doesn’t need to. He knows you’ll crawl for it, beg for it, because he’s already rewritten the way your mind works.
Your breath catches, and your lips part, glossy and full, painted just how he likes. You don’t remember if you put the gloss on for him or for the camera earlier—but it doesn’t matter. Everything you do ends up being for him anyway.
Matt watches the way your gaze dips. His smirk widens, slow and smug.
“There she is,” he murmurs. “My little brainless bunny.”
You feel your thighs clench.
He flips another page in your Playboy spread, holding the magazine wide open like he’s comparing the image on the page to the live version kneeling at his feet. You—on all fours in a pink faux-fur bikini, mouth slightly open, eyes glassy.
“You even look dumber in print,” he muses. “All pout and tits. They nailed it.”
Your cheeks burn, but you can’t stop smiling. You like when he talks to you like that. When he makes you feel soft. Silly. Owned.
Then, his voice dips lower.
“Use your mouth, sweetheart, c'mon. Show me how proud you are to be my perfect little covergirl.”
Your hands are trembling as you reach for him.
You wrap your fingers around him first. He’s thick, heavy in your grip, the kind of cock that makes your pulse flutter and your brain short-circuit. You hear him hiss through his teeth, but he doesn’t say a word. He’s watching you, studying the way your lips part, the way your breath hitches as you lean in.
When you finally take him into your mouth, he groans, low, approving.
His free hand drops the magazine into his lap. His thumb brushes against your cheekbone, then slides down to your jaw. Not controlling—just guiding. Because he knows you’ll do exactly what he wants.
You always do.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice gravel-rich and warm like whiskey. “God, look at you. Pretty little thing, so eager to stuff that pretty lil mouth full.”
You moan around him, the praise hitting you harder than anything else.
He watches you like he’s watching his favorite movie. Big, bossy, lounging back on his throne of Italian leather like this is just what men like him deserve: a perfect girl between his legs and his name on the masthead.
“You know how many men are-ahh-jerking off to this?” he hums, flicking the page again. “Your spread. Your blank little stare. Thinking they could make you drool like this, mnh.”
He lets out a breathy laugh, dark and full of ego.
“They’ll never get it, baby. You’re mine. I’m the one who trained that stupid little, fuck, look into you.”
Your eyes flutter shut at that.
Because he’s right.
And now, here you are: on your knees, mascaraed lashes wet, thighs sticky, his cock filling your mouth as he flips through your magazine like it’s his portfolio.
“You want to be my dumb little centerfold forever, baby?” he murmurs, brushing his thumb along your lips as you pull back, spit trailing down your chin. “Let Daddy keep you pretty, keep you obedient, keep you useful?”
You nod, dizzy with need.
He laughs, that deep, smoky sound curling around you like a noose.
Hi!!! Do you think you could do a fem reader x Sam Lombardo where he moves in next door and she sees him and starts to go over and talk to him everyday and one day he invites her over and maybe they kiss or more? Can she also be pretty young maybe 19? Tysm!!!!☺️
────۶ৎ think i need someone older..
or just your handsome neighbour deciding that a few years between you isn't really that important🤭
warnings : sam lombardo himself is a warning, smut at the end!
ᐟᐟ ⟢ a/n: Sam Lombardo my religion.
The first time you saw him, it was like something out of an old movie.
He stepped out of a moving truck, sun bouncing off his Ray-Bans, hair slicked back like some ‘90s heartthrob who never got the memo that time passed. The air in the neighborhood shifted —humid already, but somehow thicker now. He looked like he belonged on a boat with two blondes and a bottle of something expensive.
You were on your porch with a lemonade and chipped pink polish on your nails, watching him. Just watching.
And when he caught your eye, he smirked. A slow, molasses-in-August kind of smile.
You waved. Just a polite, girlish flutter of fingers. He looked over the top of his sunglasses and waved back. Two fingers, casual, cocky. Like he’d already decided you were his favorite thing about this neighborhood.
The next day, he was on his porch when you got the mail.
“Morning,” he called. That voice—smooth like bourbon and so, unbearably hot and low.
You smiled shyly, hugged your sweater tighter.
“Morning.”
That night, you couldn’t sleep.
By day two, he was shirtless, washing his car. His muscles flexed like he knew you were watching from your upstairs window.
You were wearing your shortest little tank top when he finally strolled across the lawn.
“Afternoon,” he said, voice like warm velvet. “Thought I should introduce myself before I seem like a bad neighbor.”
You smiled, lip gloss shining under the sun. “I’m not complaining.”
He laughed, low and rich. “Sam. I’m next door.”
“I know,” you breathed out, quietly.
Day three, he brought over a bottle of wine and leaned against your doorframe like he owned the place.
“You drink?” he asked, eyes dancing.
“I’m nineteen,” you whispered.
He grinned. “I’ll bring lemonade next time.”
And so he did. You sipped yours through a straw, sitting cross-legged on the porch while he talked about boats and gators and women he probably shouldn’t be telling you about.
And yet, you couldn’t stop leaning in closer.
On day five, he invited you over.
His house was cool and smelled like him—cedarwood and clean cologne. He poured lemonade but added mint. Show-off. He handed you a soda and brushed your fingers too slowly, like it meant something.
He showed you the pool, the vinyls he collected. And when you sat down on the couch, a little too close, the air sparked.
You sat on his couch, knees nearly touching. You could feel the heat rolling off him.
“You’re trouble,” he said, voice low.
“I’m not,” you whispered, a smile tugging at your lips.
“You’re nineteen. You look at me like I’m your favorite bad idea.” He leaned in.
His eyes dipped down to your lips. You felt the shift before it happened. “Can I kiss you?”
“Only around people I like.”
And when your lips touched, it was like biting into a forbidden fruit—sweet, slow, a little messy. His hands found your waist, your thigh. Yours found his collar, his hair.
He pulled back for a breath, eyes dark. “Tell me to stop.”
But you didn’t.
So he kissed you like he had all the time in the world—but with the kind of hunger that said he’d been thinking about this too much.
His hand slid from your waist to your bare thigh, warm palm pushing your shorts higher as he pressed his lips to your jaw, your neck, slow and teasing like he knew how sensitive you were there. Your breath hitched.
“You’re shaking,” he murmured against your skin, that velvet voice wrapped in sin. “What’s got you so worked up, sweetheart?”
“You,” you whispered, barely audible.
He grinned—cocky. Dangerous. So goddamn hot.
“Yeah?” he said, slipping a hand under your tank top. “That crush of yours finally catching up with you?”
His fingers grazed over your stomach, then up to your chest, just barely brushing your bra, and your body arched into him without thinking.
You felt dizzy. Lit up. Melting under his touch.
Sam leaned in again, kissing you deeper, hungrier, like he was starving and you were the only thing on the menu. He pulled you into his lap, hands spreading over your ass like he owned it, grinding you down against the growing bulge in his jeans.
“Feel that?” he growled into your mouth. “That’s what you do to me, baby.”
You nodded, breathless. “I want more.”
That was all he needed.
He stood up, holding you like you weighed nothing, carrying you to the bedroom—his lips never leaving yours. He dropped you on the bed with a grin and tugged his shirt off, slow like a show. You bit your lip.
His body? Straight out of a fantasy. Tan, toned, and dripping with that grown man confidence that left you throbbing between your thighs.
“Take off those pretty little shorts for me,” he said, voice like honey over gravel.
You obeyed. Blushing but bold now, hunger overtaking hesitation. He watched like a lion watches his prey. Then he was over you, kissing down your stomach, tongue teasing every inch, fingers sliding beneath your panties.
“You’re s’wet for me,” he groaned, pushing them aside. “Nineteen and already ruined.”
And then his mouth was on you—hot, slow, relentless—tongue circling, lips sucking, fingers working you open with practiced skill. Your back arched, fingers gripping his hair.
“You taste so fucking sweet,” he growled. “Goddamn.”
You came with a whimper, thighs shaking, breath caught in your throat—and he didn’t stop. He worked you through it, then kissed his way back up, letting you taste yourself on his lips.
Then came the unbuckling of his belt.
The sound alone made your legs fall open.
“You sure, baby?” he asked, one last time.
You nodded. “Please.”
And then he was inside you—deep, thick, perfect.
You gasped, nails digging into his back.
He groaned, forehead resting on yours. “Fuuuck. Tight little thing, aren’t you?”
He moved slow at first, hips grinding, hitting that spot over and over, until your body was clinging to him like he was the only real thing in the world. He whispered filthy things in your ear:
“You were made for me.”
“I’m gonna ruin you for boys your age.”
“God, look at you—so pretty, so full of me.”
Your body met every thrust with need, with heat, with raw, delicious want. You were dizzy. Euphoric. His. And it didn't take long before that coil inside you started tightening and making your insides tense.
A perfect thrust, like he knew just what he was doing, had his bulbous tip kissing your cervix. And that was all it took, your walls tighetened around him, nails digging into his back with a wailed out “Sa—ahh—mm!”
“Fu—uh—cking, hell, sweet’eart”
When he came, he grunted into your neck, hips jerking, pulling you tight as he emptied himself inside. And even then, he didn’t let go. Just kissed you softly, lovingly, thumb brushing your cheek.
“You’re dangerous,” he murmured, voice spent but satisfied.
please do a sam lombardo smut where he has a squirting kink 🙏🏼
Omfg of course <3
MDNI
Cw: I’m rusty at writing (esp writing SMUT), AFAB Reader, Teacher/student dynamic (this is Sam, after all), Vaginal fingering, Squirting
Trying to come up with an opening gave me so much unnecessary trouble you have no idea—
You were a goner the minute his bed began to feel better than your own.
It started innocent enough. Teasing glances in the hallways eventually turned into calls down to his office. He tried to be professional, tried to push you away, but you weren’t dumb enough to let him go. Words soon turned to sneaky kisses then turned into getting handsy while he drove you home.
Then, it all lead back to Sam’s place.
Sam knew he shouldn’t, but every time he so much as looked at you, it became a struggle to keep his hands away. He explored every inch of you in just a few weeks, learned how soft your thighs and your lips were. He never wanted to give it up.
Today was just a continuation of your routine. After school, you met with Sam in his office and followed close behind when he lead you to his Jeep. During the ride, the hand not white-knuckling the steering wheel was planted firmly on your thigh.
Sam quickly unlocked the front door and ushered you inside, throwing his keys down on the closest table before spinning you around and bringing you in for a kiss. He’d waited all day for that.
All of Sam’s kisses were slow, sensual, and his tongue always seemed impatient to meet yours. You moaned as you brought a hand to his cheek. His kisses were always heaven.
The hand not holding your waist slipped down your side before gripping the swell of your ass. Sam groaned, unable to stop the way his hips pushed forward into your body.
His mouth left yours to trail soft, hot kisses along your neck. You tugged at his shirt, attempting to free the buttons from their holes. The hand on your ass left to grab at your chest as Sam pulled the collar of your shirt down just enough to leave a small bite below your collarbone. Low enough to hide it at school the next day.
After a few of the buttons on his shirt were ripped apart, you began to work on undoing his belt, but a bigger, rougher hand stopped you.
“Not yet…” Sam breathed against your ear. “I wanna try something…”
Your eyes met, the air instantly leaving your lungs when Sam took your arm and walked over to the couch.
“Sit,” he commanded. Something Sam knew all too well about you was how you could never disobey him like this. Not for long, at least. You settled into the couch, leaning back as your lover ran hand along your hair, pushing it away from your face. He almost looked conflicted, like he was torn between two perfectly salacious ideas, but he held strong and sat beside you, placing another sweet kiss to your lips as he propped one of your legs up.
Deft fingers fluttered along the inside of your thigh, pausing just a moment to squeeze the flesh before trailing along the inseam of your shorts, right over where you needed him most. Sam kissed your shoulder as he pressed down against your clothed heat, rubbing gentle circles.
“Sam…” you breathed. He was too good with hands. One simple touch through denim was enough to make you crave him. He kissed your head as his fingers moved, slipping under the waistband of your shorts and pushing your underwear to the side.
The length of his finger glided along your slick. “Already so wet for me, baby,” he whispered as his fingers slid up, using your arousal to tease your clit.
You hummed, leaning your head against his shoulder and watching his arm flex as it worked you closer.
“Yeah, just relax baby. I’ve got you…” he cooed before his fingers dipped lower, slowly pushing into your awaiting hole. He only waited a second before adding another. “Love how wet you get for me. ‘S all for me, yeah?”
“Yeah…” you nod, eyes drooping closed as his fingers pumped tantalizingly slow. His thumb found purchase on your clit, pushing against the nub as his fingers curled up to reach further inside.
You whined, hand tugging at the fabric of his pants as his thrusts quickened. The sound of your wetness grew louder as the familiar, hot bubble of pressure began in the pit of your stomach. Your hips rolled forward, chasing after his touch.
Then, his fingers slipped free and withdrew from your shorts. You huffed out a pathetic whine.
“Lift your hips,” Sam said as he undid the fastenings of the shorts. You did as you were told and in the blink of an eye, he had tugged your offending clothes down your legs, exposing your heat to cold air. He spread your thighs further apart, admiring just how badly your body called for him.
Sam brought his fingers to your lips, letting out a soft breath when they parted and let him in. He let you suck the drying slick from his fingers as if you were used to it. In a way, you supposed you were. When he finally pulled his hand away, it fell back down to your core, using the added wetness to push right back into your dripping pussy with a satisfied groan. He kissed your hair again as his fingers pumped faster inside. Faster than he ever had, like he was urging you close to the edge again.
His thumb resumed its movements on your clit as he fucked you open. Your head lolled back against the couch, feeling that pressure in your stomach quickly resurfacing. Only this time, it felt different. Hotter. Your body chased Sam’s touch, urging him to push harder against your clit.
“I’m gonna come…” you whined.
Sam didn’t let up, rolling your sensitive nub under his hand. His held you close to his side, wrapping his arm around to squeeze your breast again as you writhed. “Don’t run from it, baby. Let it happen. Try to push my fingers out.”
You moaned beneath him and, like a flash of pulsating lightning, your body jerked and tensed, pushing against the searing pressure around his touch. You gasped but could only make out the sound of your wetness coating Sam’s fingers as he continued to wreck your throbbing cunt.
“Fuuuck…” he muttered when you came back to earth, his fingers finally slowing inside you before slipping out with one last soothing rub to your clit. He kissed your head once more, whispering, “You’re so hot, baby…Fuckin’ squirted for me.”
You could hear the smile in his voice. When your eyes opened, you looked down between your trembling legs, seeing the wet spots staining the couch.
Sam’s hand, still soaked in your squirt, brought yours down to the rock hard bulge in his pants. “Feel that? You do that to me, pretty girl,” he said before bringing you in for another sultry kiss. When he pulled away, the tip of his nose brushing against yours, he breathed, “Think you can squirt again for me, baby?”
You nodded, speechless.
Sam smirked, “I won’t stop ‘til you do that on my cock, baby…”
That was enough to make you fall in love with him.
