#can’t stay on topic for shit

[firecrackerhh]

Seeing someone be a fan of helluva boss and also post fucking SWERF and TERF talking points in other posts is like…bitch are you a fucking retard?

Like for fucks sake why tf do fucking weirdo conservatives (cuz frankly if you think that way, you’re a conservative) even like Viv’s stuff to begin with?

Like how can you be ok with messy gays but bitch about inclusive cute comics about non-binary and trans identities or cry about “duh liberals!!!” Or cry that men paying sex workers is “rape culture” as if every sex worker is being forced into it or some fucking horseshit.

I’m not saying I’m against discussions about this shit, I’m not saying there’s no nuance, but assuming every guy is automatically a rapist over consensual sex is fucking bullshit. That’s not nuance, that’s misandry.

You second wave feminist types have some shit to work through or something I stg.

Like for the love of god the cognitive dissonance is astounding, how can you even feed yourself, I’m surprised people like that like anything Viv creates.

Cognitive dissonance is a fascinating phenomenon truly.

For the record, I don’t tolerate that fucking SWERF/TERF shit, if you do that shit and you follow me you can frankly take a nice long walk off a short fucking pier, I don’t care, die mad about it.

If you’re a piece of shit to innocent people for no good fucking reason, you are frankly, vermin to me, I reiterate, you can fucking die mad about it.

And honestly, if you’re a TERF/SWERF, I don’t think you should be watching Viv’s stuff either, people like you just…frankly, you go against everything the show itself stands for, neither of Viv’s shows promote conservative values of any kind, and if you think they do…there’s not enough insults I can throw your way.

And if you’re a fucking “progressive” person who uses conservative talking points to try to make yourself look ‘better’ than the other left leaning people around you, you’re a fucking pick-me and it’s fucking pathetic.

If you think shitting on enby or trans identities or sex work or any other kind of “degenerate” behavior will make you look better in the eyes of conservatives…there’s not enough insults.

Conservatives will never like you, just cuz you’re the last person to die at the gas chamber doesn’t change the fact you’re in the fucking gas chamber!

How can I respect these people when they don’t even have respect for themselves?

I’m just keeping it real here, if left leaning people are “degenerate” because of the gays and sex work or whatever else, then hoo BOY conservatives are no fucking better.

Stg some conservatives practically wanna go back to the days of the Roman Empire, motherfucking Ancient Greece kinda bullshit, (I’m pretty sure going backwards to such an extent is also degeneracy tbh, if we’re going by the actual definition of the word,) and even then, they can’t fucking escape the gays or sex work, motherfucker do you not realize how fucking gay the Greeks and Roman’s were???? (Well, to the Greeks and Romans at the time, it wasn’t gay if you were a top)

Sex work, prostitution, whatever you call it, is considered “the oldest profession” for a reason! As if someone selling their body for sex is in any way different from how every day people sell their fucking bodies to their dead-end jobs or the fucking military, it’s all fucking capitalism baby and we’re the fucking currency!

Who cares about dollars and cents when it’s people that make the system work, monetary value is rather arbitrary to begin with imo, and it’ll be especially worthless if God forbid the nukes drop and kill us all. No people, no money,

Don’t even get me started on that retarded fucking 1950s ad campaign bullshit that conservatives are retarded enough to believe was in any way real and not purely fucking…well, advertising.

All conservatives really want is for everyone to be fucking subjugated under their fucking heel, so convinced they will be at the top of the hierarchy without realizing that, realistically, they would also be eating their fair share of shit, it’s not like every Roman citizen was a part of the Senate, not every white man in the 50s was fucking living it up in suburbia with a happy wife and 2 kids and a dog. (Never mind how many fucking tranqs those poor women probably had to take so they didn’t fucking off themselves or their husbands after they got an ass whooping for forgetting to smile or some retarded ass shit)

And if you’re a woman (or a minority in general tbh) and fucking drinking that Kool-Aid?

I reiterate, how on God’s green earth, heaven, and Lucifer’s infernal hell, could I possibly respect you if it’s obvious you don’t respect yourself?

If you honestly think life would be better for you…frankly I think you should be checked out, your delusions cause you nothing but suffering.

But hey, it ain’t my life, if you wanna be miserable, go ahead, just remember when reality knocks you the fuck out one day, I imagine very few people are going to have sympathy for you.

…I can’t stay on topic for shit can I?

Whatever, not like anything I said wasn’t truthful, I may be harsh, but it isn’t without good reason.

Some people make me wanna just…crawl into their brain so I can study it like an entomologist would study a bug.

Hell, sometimes I wish I could do that for myself just so I could know wtf my problem is Lmao.

🔥🧨~Firecracker out~🔥🧨

Also happy Pride month 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

[dykedvonte]

Mini rant below and in the tags, the only time I’ll talk about this and my personal take on it.

The way people talk about hypothetical male Anya on Twitter and the idea of how Mouthwashing would play out if the genders were swapped makes me remember how people still don’t take sexual assault and rape with male victims with the same gravity, especially when the perpetrator is female.

[fishyartist]

Oh ew an artist I followed was posting shit about how we need to be accommodating of sexualizing incest+children because “it’s fiction” bullshit get lost ☠️

[likeumeanit9497]

the re-do | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: y/n participates in the triplets' "dirty q&a" video, where she accidentally infers that her experience losing her virginity to matt back in high school had been mediocre. instead of taking offence, matt makes it his mission to show her just how much he has improved since then.

warnings: SMUT; established friendship; m/f oral; unprotected p in v; dirty talk; 18+

notes: hi guys! this is my first ever one shot so pls be gentle with me (i'm genuinely so terrified to post this). it has absolutely NOT been proof read forgive me, but i hope you all enjoy <333

“Guys why am I actually nervous to film this?” Nick proclaimed from his place in the backseat of the car beside me. “No I am genuinely so scared right now.” Replied Chris from the seat in front of me as he began passing out our respective orders from McDonalds.

“We can’t act nervous or else the fans are gonna go even crazier than they already will.” Added Nick as Matt adjusted the camera on the dash. “You’re sure you’re gonna be able to handle the inevitable shit talking that’s gonna come from all this?” Matt asked as he turned to face me in the back. I took a deep breath but nodded. “The more they see me the more desensitized they’ll be. They’ll have to eventually get over it.”

As one of the triplet’s closest girl friends, I had been on the receiving end of a fair amount of hate from their fangirls on the internet. Because I had known them since elementary school, I had been a part of many of their earlier videos when their fans had still been pretty chill about our friendship. But over the past year, a new wave of younger fans had found the videos and had made it their life mission to publicly bash me any chance that they could. It became too much when, a few months ago, one of them decided to spread a rumour that Chris and I had slept together based on nothing other than strategically edited clips of us smiling at each other. It was then that the guys and I had made the decision to keep me as out of the public eye as possible.

However, the guys had sat me down last week to explain how fed up they were with how restricted they felt they had been in their content. They wanted to make an attempt at reclaiming a fandom built primarily of viewers closer to our age, and they thought that the best way to try that was to ignore the petty complaints and make content that they wanted to make. So, since I had been staying with them in Los Angeles for the month, I had agreed to not only be in one of their regular videos, but I had agreed to be in their ‘dirty q&a’ video. I couldn’t lie, I was a bit nervous, but mostly I was excited that my friends were finally confident enough to make videos with more extreme topics.

“Alright guys, ya’ll ready?” Chris asked, intaking a sharp breath while his hand hovered over the record button on the camera. We all responded with a falsely enthusiastic “ready!”, and the camera was turned on.

“Alright, first question,” Nick began after his long-winded introduction filled with disclaimers and explanations for their change in content. “How many people have you slept with?” Already with the first question, it was obvious that the guys were tentative about answering. “Bro I don’t know, next question.” Chris responded, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands. “What do you mean by ‘I don’t know’ Chris?” Asked Matt tauntingly. “I mean I haven’t fucking kept track of everyone I’ve slept with.” He responded bluntly, before realizing how bad that had sounded. We all, however, erupted into laughter immediately. “Okay okay it’s not that bad guys I swear, I just have a bad memory is all.” He attempted to remedy his previous answer, but all three of us continued to laugh.

“Matt, how about you?” Asked Nick, to which Matt simply held up five fingers to the camera. “Same with me.” Nick agreed before turning to me. “Y/n? Spill it.” I rolled my eyes before answering truthfully. “Seven.” I shrugged, and I caught Matt’s smiley eyes through the rear view mirror.

“Alright next question is…” Chris was scrolling through the responses to their Instagram threads. “How old were you when you lost your virginity?”

“Sixteen” We all responded in unison, and immediately buckled over in laughter. “Not all at once though ya’ll.” Nick explained through his laughter, while mine and Matt’s eyes flew open and Chris’ laugh turned into hysterics. “Well…” Chris began before he was cut short by the three of us telling him to shut up. “I’m definitely gonna have to cut that one out. Sorry you two fools, I kind of set him up there.” Nick rolled his eyes as he looked between Matt and I.

Ironically enough, the fans had been half right in their rumour about Chris and I sleeping together. I had slept with one of the triplets before, but it wasn’t Chris.

When we were sixteen, Matt and I had decided that we wanted to lose our virginities to each other. It had been a no-strings-attached decision, and our friendship thankfully never wavered after it was done. Both Nick and Chris had already lost theirs that same year, and we had both just kind of wanted to get it over with. Obviously, this piece of information was known only by Matt and I, and of course Chris and Nick since they had barged into the room while we were in bed together. Even though the vindictive side of me would love to have the fans know this piece of information and shatter their dreams, I knew that the fallout would be an absolute nightmare.

“Okay let’s see…” I had been handed Nick’s phone to choose a question to answer and was scrolling through my options. “Here’s a simple one. Favourite position? Mine’s speed bump for sure.” I placed the phone down, satisfied with my confident answer, only to be met with multiple pairs of confused eyes. “I beg your pardon? The fuck is speed bump?” Asked Nick as he took his phone back. “The one where you’re kinda just lying flat on your stomach with the guy behind you. Trust me it’s chef’s kiss.” I responded simply. Chris’ facial expression turned from confusion to one of understanding. “Ohhh yeah that’s a good one.” He replied as he dapped me up. “Great, gonna have to edit that out too unless you want the rumours to get really bad again.” Nick said as he rolled his eyes. “Shit, sorry Nick.” Chris said, giggling slightly.

“Let’s just move on.” Matt said as he began scrolling on his own phone. “Best and worst sexual experiences.” He read off of his screen. There was a moment of silence while we all thought of our answers. “I had a girl throw up on my dick once. The problem is I don’t know if that makes it the worst or the best though.” Said Chris, earning a loud groan from each of us. “You’re sick.” Replied Matt, giving his brother a disgusted look.

“I mean I guess the worst sex would probably be my first time right? Like that makes sense right?” Asked Nick in an attempt to steer the conversation away from Chris’ confession, to which I nodded in agreed response without thinking. I caught Matt’s eyes in the rearview mirror again, this time seeing them filled with a pleading expression. Realizing what I had done, I silently prayed to the universe that my action would go unnoticed by the others. Unfortunately and unsurprisingly, my head nod didn’t make it past Chris, which was made incredibly clear when he mumbled to Nick behind his hand that was hiding his smiling mouth from the camera.

“Did you see that?” He asked, and Nick looked confused so he continued, “Y/n agreed with you about her first time.” He managed to get out before erupting into laughter at the expense of his brother. Matt threw his hands up in the air once Nick joined Chris in his giggling, and I winced from my place in the backseat; also mouthing an apology to Matt’s reflection in the mirror.

“Bro come on it was my first time! I guarantee you were trash your first time too.” Matt said in an attempt to repair his ego as he threw his empty cup at Chris. “Maybe so, but I don’t have the girl who I lost it to here in the car to confirm it.” Chris snarked back, playfully nudging Matt’s shoulder. “We all gotta start somewhere dude.” He added when Matt didn’t respond. As Nick continued choking on his own laughter, Matt crossed his arms and stared out the window, very clearly wishing he was anywhere but there in that moment.

“Okay okay,” Nick began catching his breath. “We need to cool it because 90% of that what we just filmed is completely unusable. Let’s please just try to make it through this video without exposing Matt and Y/n’s bumpy sexual history again.” He pleaded as he began scrolling through his phone to find new questions.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

“God, that was rough.” Said Chris as we all climbed out of the parked car. We had finally finished the video. It took us an hour to film, and would still be edited down to just twenty minutes of content where we weren’t exposing big secrets or directly fuelling past rumours.

“At least it’s done. It might be a while before I ever want to do that again.” Nick responded as he opened the garage door leading into their house. “Agreed.” Added Matt from behind me as we climbed the stairs to the main level. We all walked over to the fridge to grab drinks, as if the beverages would clean our dirty mouths.

“Alright,” Chris began after a hefty chug from his Pepsi, “I’m going to my room. Matt, Nick, get on Fortnite with me.” He began descending the stairs. “I’ll get on once I shower Chris. I have a desperate need to scrub this FILTH off of my body.” Replied Nick, and he began walking towards the stairs leading to his bedroom. “Y/n, come upstairs whenever you want to go to sleep and I’ll get off the game.” He called over his shoulder as he disappeared at the top of the stairs.

Matt and I were left alone in the kitchen, him sitting at the table and me sitting on top of the counter in between the stove and the fridge. Swinging my legs carelessly, I decided to break the silence first. “I’m really sorry about all of that in the car Matt. I didn’t mean it.” He looked up at me and chuckled. “Yes you did, and it’s not a big deal. I know I wasn’t great back then.” He responded before taking a drink from his can. I smiled softly at his response but decided to leave it be. There was no use in trying to deny it. The sex was just boring, short, and awkward; the way that most first times are. At least he didn’t take any offence to it.

“You know,” He began after a few moments of silence, his eyes shooting to mine as he stood up from his place at the kitchen table. “I’ve gotten much better.” A playful smirk travelled to his lips as he began walking towards my frozen figure on the counter. He stopped just a few short centimetres away from me, so close that I could reach out and touch any part of him that I wanted. I couldn’t tell if he was fucking with me, until I felt his early signs of arousal press lightly against my knee.

My throat was dry, and I felt like a deer in headlights. Even though Matt and I had slept together when we were younger, the dynamic was much different than now. The proposition came about awkwardly, and we were a fumbling mess with very little understanding of how it felt to be aroused. But in this moment, I was very very aroused just from this conversation.

In my silence, he placed a firm hand on my hip, rubbing his thumb across it gently. “I can do just about anything. Just let me know how you want it and I can give it to you.” My stomach did a somersault at his words, and I felt my panties dampen. He used his free hand to push my legs apart so that he could stand in between them, and my limp hands subconsciously moved up to grab onto his shoulders. At the first sign of my willingness, Matt quickly leaned forward and peppered soft, teasingly slow kisses along my neck. His lips travelled up to my ear, where he bit the lobe playfully before whispering, “Well, tell me. How do you want me Y/n?”

His words caused me to clench on nothing and I nearly moaned from the anticipation. With him still waiting on my response I whispered back, “You can do anything you want to me, Matty.”

Without missing a beat, he attacked my lips with his own and I melted from the immediate relief. I moved my hands from his shoulders up to the base of his head, and as his tongue danced along with mine I pulled gently at his messy hair; my own mouth filling with a moan falling from his lips. His right hand traveled up my grey hoodie to find that I had nothing on underneath, and he lightly brushed the bottom of my left tit with his thumb. Suddenly his hands moved from under my shirt and gripped my ass as he effortlessly lifted me off the counter and into his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he stumbled towards his bedroom.

Once inside the undisturbed room, he placed me down on his desk, my ass hitting the mouse and causing the computer to turn on; casting a light on the otherwise dark room. He wasted no time in removing my hoodie, leaning me back slightly so he could easily twirl his tongue along each nipple. I hummed in pleasure from the warm, wet sensation of his mouth connecting to my skin, and brought my hand down in between our bodies to softly run my hand up and down his clothed hardness. After a few moments, he pushed my hand away and dropped to his knees in between my legs.

Pulling my grey sweats off my body and pushing my thong to the side in one quick motion, Matt took a moment to relish in my swollen, dripping hole. “I don’t remember you being this wet for me last time.” He smirked as he looked up at me with blown out pupils. “Let’s see if you taste the same.” My eyes rolled to the back of my head at his filthy words, and a moan slipped from between my lips as his mouth made sloppy contact with my sensitive bud. I subconsciously grabbed onto the back of his head, suffocating him with my heat as he continued to suck and kiss my clit. As his tongue worked on my nerves, he released a guttural moan that vibrated against my heat, causing my back to arch at the intense feeling.

When we had done this all of those years before, Matt’s movements were lacking in confidence. He had fumbled around my clit blindly, and had ate me out cautiously as if he was afraid of hurting me. Now, this Matt had clearly gained experience, as my stomach was already beginning to fill with the familiar pressure from the build up of an orgasm once I watched him find all of my most sensitive spots; his eyes blissfully closed.

Suddenly, he pulled his mouth away from my heat and I groaned at the loss of contact. He straightened his body back up to my level and brought his face so close to mine that our noses were touching. “Kiss me. I want you to know how good you taste.” He whispered through his glistening bright red lips. More on fire than I had ever been in my life, I immediately attached my open mouth to his, moaning at the distinct taste of my sweet arousal on his tongue. As we deepened the kiss, his fingers found my heat and he ran two of them up and down my folds to collect my wetness before slamming them into my cunt; finding my spongey g-spot on the first pump with his curled fingers.

My head rolled back, lost in the euphoric feeling of his fingers filling me up, and he watched my facial expressions intently as the wet sounds of my upcoming orgasm filled the space between us. “Holy fuck, Matt.” I slurred, my voice coming out choppy as his fingers continued to relentlessly pound into me; never losing contact with that one spot that drove me crazy. “I-I’m gonna-” I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the very beginning of my orgasm roll over my body.

Suddenly, all of his movements stopped and my eyes shot open out of frustration. In the time since my eyes had screwed shut, his own had darkened in arousal. My body trembled from the sudden halt in its pleasure, and he smirked at me. “You want to cum, sweetheart?” He asked, his kind words a harsh paradox to his sinister expression. Still, I nodded eagerly to which he pulled his fingers out of me completely before leaning up and placing his wet mouth right against my ear.

“You’re gonna fucking wait for me.”

I attempted to squeeze my legs together to take some pressure off of my throbbing, unsatisfied core as his vulgar words scrambled my brain, before he pulled me off the desk and pushed my head down so that I was now the one on my knees. Confused, I looked up to find him gazing down at me. He gestured towards his clothed member. “Go ahead.” I grinned slyly.

My turn.

I had made an attempt at giving him head the first time we had sex. Just like him, I had struggled with confidence due to the sole fact that I had no clue what I was doing. Since then, I had had plenty of practice, and I was excited to now be the one to show him my improvements.

I grabbed onto the waist band of his pyjama pants and pulled them down to his knees. With only his tight red boxer shorts covering it now, the outline of his thick cock and the small wet spot at its tip from his pre-cum made my mouth water. I brought my mouth up to the skin on his lower stomach, right above the Calvin Klein logo on his boxers, and began peppering excruciatingly slow kisses along the light sprinkling of hair there. I glanced up at him through my eyelashes to find him peering down at me with curious lust, his mouth open slightly and his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

After a short while, I grabbed his boxers and pulled them down to meet his pants at his knees. His hardened cock smacked his stomach on its release from the tight material, where it left a wet patch from his pre-cum. Grabbing it with my left hand, I collected a pool of saliva in my mouth and stared up at him as I let it all drip down his swollen member. After pumping my hand for a few strokes, I placed only the tip in my mouth as I watched his eyes dilate. I swirled my tongue teasingly along the swollen tip, tasting the the saltiness of his fluid. Eventually, I began pumping my hand up and down his shaft in rhythm with my head bobbing along the top half of his cock. He shifted on his feet at the new sensation and let his head fall back. I kept my pace agonizingly lazy, knowing that it would drive him crazy.

With my tongue, I licked a strip from the base of his ball sack, up his shaft, and to his tip, earning a hushed whimper from his lethargic mouth before he grabbed my hair and shifted his hips. Looking down at me and holding my head firmly in place, he began thrusting his hips as he kept me still. He started slow, but when he realized that I could take more his pace began to pick up and his cock began to hit deep in my throat. I looked up at him through my tear-filled eyes, and saliva began to drip down my chin. “Fuck you look so good with my cock in your mouth.” He grunted out through each thrust. I lifted my hand to cup his balls, giving them gentle squeezes that seemed to send him towards his climax.

As a moan fell from his lips, he pulled my head back so that his dripping cock sprung free before he got the chance to fill my mouth with his cum. He stood there for a moment with his eyes closed taking deep breaths as if he was fighting the urge to finish right then, before he opened his eyes and gazed down at me. “Get on the bed.”

I pulled myself up off the ground and, on shaky legs, walked over to his bed with him following close behind. Once I reached the edge of the bed he stopped me, turning me around to face him and pushing me down so I would sit. “Put your feet on the bed and pull your knees up to your chest.” He commanded, and I did as I was told, albeit I was a bit confused. “Good girl.” He praised me as he pulled me right up to the edge of the bed before pushing my legs further apart.

Placing one of his knees on the bed beside me, he lined his cock up with my entrance; rubbing it tantalizingly along my wetness. Placing one arm around my waist to brace my body, he slowly pushed his cock inside of me right there on the edge of the bed. His trusts were slow but harsh, and the position he had placed us in made it so that my cervix was barrelled into each time his hips met mine. He placed his sweat-coated forehead against my collar bone and released small breathless grunts with each deep thrust. “So fucking good Matt. Oh god.” I whined as his pace began to increase in speed. He planted his teeth into my shoulder as we fell back onto the bed; his body now completely on top of mine as he continued to drive into me.

He lifted his head and looked fixedly at my fucked out face, his eyes glossed over in erotic pleasure. With this visual, I was brought back to the first time we had fucked, in a position so similar to this one. His rhythm was slower and much more tentative, and we were both certainly much less pleasing to the other, but still I suddenly got hit with a wave of recognition in how much we had both grown since then.

I was pulled out of my trance by Matt’s commanding voice. “Move back real quick and get on your stomach.” I did as I was told, feeling the emptiness that came from his dick sliding out of my soaking wet pussy. Assuming he wanted me in doggy, I got on my knees and arched my back; my head and shoulders pressed firmly against the soft mattress. I felt the bed move as he climbed on all the way, and in a moment of animalistic desperation I pushed my needy cunt subconsciously back to meet heat of his cock.

“No.” He stated simply, his veiny hands massaging my ass. Confused, I looked over my shoulder as I waited for him to explain. He had an ominous smile as he moved his gaze from my fully exposed cunt to my face. “I wanna see if your favourite position is really worth the hype.” He used his hands on my ass to push it down flat to the bed before adjusting himself so that he could line up correctly. Still looking over my shoulder with glazed eyes, I watched his expression as his cock sunk into my core once again. His jaw was clenched tightly and his eyelashes fluttered slightly from the new sensation that the position gave him as he bottomed out. “Oh fuck.” His eyes were fully shut now as he stayed still for a moment. Small beads of sweat traveled down his stomach as I took in the beauty of the man who was making me feel so so good.

Getting turned on even more just from Matt’s visual pleasure, my walls clenched subconsciously and I whined, “Please keep going Matty.” His eyes snapped open and landed on mine, before he leaned forward — one hand beside my head and the other planted firmly to the small of my back — and began pounding into me relentlessly.

The depth of this position allowed me to feel every inch of his cock, and it became impossible to keep the moans and strings of profanity from escaping my lips. This seemed to be the case for Matt too, as over the sounds of my own moans and the wet sounds of our bodies connecting, I could hear the gruff throaty moans of his own pleasure. “Fuck. You’re so fucking tight Y/n.” Even though I was aware that we were both making far too much noise that Chris and Nick would definitely hear, I couldn’t get myself to bring it to Matt’s attention, as the animalistic vocalization of his indulgence was bringing me closer and closer to my climax.

“I-I need to cum Matty.” I managed to vocalize as my nerves began to unravel. “Hold it. Want you to cum with me.” He responded, leaning even further forward so that his body was practically lying on top of mine. He took a free hand and wrapped it around my throat, lightly squeezing the sides as my pleasure became dangerously close to bubbling over.

“P-Please cum for me. I can’t hold it anymore.” I begged, digging my nails into his silk bedsheets and feeling my walls quiver each time he drove his cock into my cervix. His breathing became hitched in my ear and his movements became sloppier. Biting my ear, he asked, “Where do you want me to cum, Y/n?”

Without wasting time, I moaned my response. “Cum in me please. Want you to fill me with it.” At that, Matt slammed his twitching cock into me a few more times before finally telling me what I so desperately needed him to.

“Okay sweetheart. Go ahead and make a mess for me.” Even before his words fully left his dirty mouth, I gave into the overbearing pressure in my stomach and felt my intense orgasm over-take me. Practically screaming his name, my pussy convulsed uncontrollably. I felt the immediate relief and heard the gush as I squirted along his cock and down his legs. “Jesus.” He moaned out as his body suddenly stilled. As my legs shook, I could feel his cock twitching inside of me; painting my walls with his cum.

After we both came down from our highs, catching our breath and reconnecting with our minds, Matt slowly pulled his dick — freshly bathed in my own juices — out of my swollen core. With a satisfied sigh, he threw his body onto the bed beside mine. Both of us laid there for a moment, facing one another with glazed over expressions, before a shameless smile crept onto Matt’s face.

“Well you definitely didn’t squirt the last time we slept together.” He chuckled proudly, and I knew his ego had been inflated. I rolled my eyes. “Well, you didn’t whimper the last time we fucked either.” It was my turn to smile as he covered his face bashfully. We laid there in silence for a moment, both of us lethargic and fucked out.

“If that was anything like when ya’ll lost your virginities then I am extremely impressed.”

Matt and I both shot our heads up and looked around the room for the origin of that familiar voice. We were alone, but my eyes focused on the lit-up computer. On the screen, Matt’s Discord was open to the group with Nick and Chris. I turned to look at Matt, who had also clearly made the same discovery that I had, and whispered, “Did you for real leave the channel unmuted?” He tucked his lips together and shrugged apprehensively, before climbing off the bed and over to the computer.

“Chris, how much of that did you hear?” He asked into his headset. I heard a laugh through the mic. “Oh Matt, I heard it all. Good work. I’m a proud brother.” I covered my face in embarrassment as Matt rolled his eyes. “Fuck off. You’re a perv.” He mumbled to his brother, but I caught the small smile that tried to creep to his lips.

“I’m gonna need a fucking lobotomy to get over the trauma that I was just put through.” I heard Nick’s voice now through the mic and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Bro you could have just left the server, you act like I forced you to listen to the entire thing.” Matt argued with his older brother. “You think I stayed and listened to the ENTIRE thing? What are you crazy?” I was full out laughing now, despite the embarrassment. “I left as soon as I figured out what was happening, but I still heard waaaay too much.” Matt laughed now and muted his mic — perhaps a bit too late — then walked back to where I was on the bed, propped up on my forearms.

“Whoops.” He simply said as he pulled his boxers back up. I shook my head and smiled shyly. “We are literally never going to be able to live that down.” I replied as he draped his body along the bed beside me again. Rubbing his eyes awkwardly, he shrugged softly. “Well, at least they’re gonna have to stop teasing me about my skills.” I smacked his arm playfully and he responded by grabbing me swiftly and pulling me to his side.

“You were impressed, weren’t you?” He asked teasingly, as he held me close. I closed my eyes and sighed, “I was, Matt. Really, really, impressed.” He giggled into my neck at my truthful response and I swatted him once again.

“I’m glad we got our re-do. I’d been wanting that for a while.” He said after a moment. I looked at him with a smile and ruffled his hair. “Me too, honestly. I always knew you had some potential in you.” I teased.

“Well, if you don’t want to have to face Nick right now, you’re welcome to sleep in here tonight.” He offered and I sighed in relief. “That would be great, actually.” I said as I began to sit up. “Let’s get cleaned up first though.” He began as he got up and grabbed us both towels from his closet, “You’re not allowed to get under my sheets until you wash my children off your thighs.” My eyes shot open at his disgusting choice of words and I quickly covered myself with my towel. “Matthew Bernard you are sick!” I exclaimed as we both headed towards his bathroom. “Sure am. But so are you.”

He pulled me into a hug while we stood in the bathroom waiting for the shower to warm up. As he rubbed circles on my back with his hand, I sighed. “I think this is the secret to good friendship.” He chuckled before asking, “What is?” Playfully, I smacked his ass over his boxers. “Fucking the shit out of each other once in a while.” He laughed and pulled away from the hug before getting into the shower; leaving the glass door open so that I could follow him. “Shut your weird ass up and get in the shower with me, friend.”

[makoodles]

ミ stay for something

🍓 pairing: kyle 'gaz' garrick x fem reader

🍓 tags: nsfw, ex-boyfriend!gaz, unprotected vaginal sex, lack of communication, jealousy, 'just the tip' trope, sex with feelings

masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

You hate wasting a Friday night on a first date, but you had genuinely high hopes for this one. You had made such an effort, too; pretty sparkly eyeshadow, strawberry-flavoured lipgloss, a new little black dress.

You look good. You feel good. 

It’s just a shame that the guy is a bit of a moron. 

He talks about himself a lot over dinner. Like, so much. You sit and smile and pretend to listen, your gaze wandering, and wonder if he’s going to ask any questions about you. He does (eventually), but they’re short and perfunctory and he seems to just take your answers and use them as a springboard into his next topic of discussion.

It’s a little tedious, but hey. First dates usually are. You weather it, your polite smile turning a little stiff as you sip your wine. Truthfully, you have ulterior motives here.

You’re not proud of it, but you don’t think you can handle the dry spell you’re going through anymore. You crave touch, affection, some kind of connection. You’re okay with being single, but god you’re so hungry for intimacy that it’s led to you agreeing to a date with a guy that you honestly wouldn’t have normally been into just for the chance of getting some action.

Ben is a nice enough guy, and he’s certainly good looking; neatly groomed hair, straight white teeth, a nice physique. He’s in good shape, though you can’t help but subconsciously compare him to— 

No, you think sternly to yourself, Don’t do that.

When he leans into you at the end of the date and asks in a low, sultry voice if you want to continue the night with him, you agree a little breathlessly. God, it’s been a long time since you were touched.

Your place is closer, and you can’t help but feel a little illicit thrill as you lead Ben back. You never usually bring guys back to yours, especially not on the first date, but you’ll be the first to admit that you’re needy tonight. 

The weather is getting colder as winter creeps its icy fingers through the air, but you’re wrapped tight in your coat and kept nice and warm as Ben wraps an arm around your waist, kissing heatedly at your neck as you try to open your door.

You giggle, the wine from dinner making you all loose and happy and eager. You tilt your head to give him more of your throat, and he eagerly takes the opportunity to introduce teeth and tongue as he kisses the line of your neck. You fumble with the key, clumsy as your body heats up.

When you finally manage to turn the key and get the stupid door open, Ben grabs you by the hips and spins you around so that he can pull you into a proper kiss. The guy might have been a dull conversationalist, but you’re delighted to find that he’s a good kisser.

The two of you stumble through the door, your arms locked around his neck as he holds you by the waist. It’s a little embarrassing how eager you are for a guy that you really aren’t even all that into, but you guess that’s just where desperation has gotten you.

“Shit,” Ben hisses when you nip at his lip. “Fuck, you’re so hot. C’mere, take this off.”

He starts tugging at your coat, and you pull back just enough to shrug it off, letting it drop to the floor. He lets out a throaty sound of appreciation, before grabbing at your waist again and leaning in to trail another set of hot kisses along your neck and shoulder. 

You tilt your head back, thunking lightly against the wall, and your eyelids flutter at the nipping kisses along your sensitive skin. 

“Oh, god…” You breathe, blinking your eyes open again.

But then… you pause. For the first time, you notice that the lights in your entryway are on. Why are they on? You hadn’t turned them on when you came in, and you know that they weren’t on when you had left. 

Ben is still groping eagerly at your hips, one hand reaching around to squeeze at your ass, but now you’re distracted, on alert. Your eyes dart around, and fall on a pair of Adidas Superstars set neatly by the front door, and a big puffer coat that’s been hung up on the hook in the hall.

Oh no. No fucking way.

As if to confirm the path your thoughts had just taken, your eyes catch on a figure in the doorway to the living room, leaning casually against the doorframe. Just watching.

A scream catches in your throat, and you grab Ben by the shoulders in an attempt to stop him. He doesn’t seem to understand, because he just keeps squeezing at your ass, pulling your hips closer so that he can slot between your legs and grind against you.

The brief spark of arousal that shoots through you when he grinds his hard-on into the seam of your cunt through your underwear is significantly dampened by the awareness that someone is already in your home, watching you, and you already know who it is.

“Hey, baby,” Kyle fucking Garrick says, lifting a mug patterned with little cartoon cats to his mouth. “Had a nice night out?”

“Jesus Christ–” You hiss, shoving at Ben’s chest. This time, the push isn’t needed, because Ben has rocketed up straight at the sound of another man’s voice in your house calling you ‘baby’.

“What the–” Ben starts to say, his brow furrowing into a bewildered frown when he catches sight of Gaz standing in the doorway watching you.

“Kyle, what are you doing here?” You snap, mortified. You grab at the bottom of your short little dress, pulling roughly at it to try and make sure you’re not flashing anyone.

Gaz watches you, amusement shining in his dark eyes. He’s not even trying to hide the way his gaze is drawn to your legs, lingering where your dress has ridden up your thighs. He sips his tea, a poor attempt at concealing his smirk.

“Home from deployment earlier than expected, love.” He says, calm and casual as if he hasn’t just broken into your goddamn house to destroy any hope you had of getting railed that night. “No time to find accommodation. You don’t mind, eh?”

Ben’s head is swinging between the two of you, his expression blank as he tries to work out just what exactly is happening. He’s straightened up entirely, the presence of Gaz obviously putting him on edge. You can’t blame him for his confusion; Gaz is currently looking at you like he wants to fucking eat you alive, and you’re beginning to get hot and flustered under his stare.

“Are you–” Ben starts, his head still on a swivel as though he can’t decide who to address. “I’m sorry, who is this?”

Gaz doesn’t even bother to reply at once. He sips at his tea, and tilts his head as he lets his eyes wander over Ben lazily. It doesn’t seem like he’s all too impressed by what he sees, though he’s smirking as though he’s amused.

“Sergeant Kyle Garrick.” He says at last, with a nod.

You huff. You know what he’s doing – he never introduces himself by his rank unless he’s trying to make a point.

Ben goes stiff. He’s still pressed against you, and you can feel every ounce of tension down the line of your body. It seems like he’s just now clocking Gaz as a proper threat, and you take a breath as you realise that he’s about to split and leave you here.

And sure enough–

“I– Listen, I don’t know what’s.. what’s going on here, but I don’t want any trouble.” Ben says, finally pushing himself away from you. He’s holding his hands up by his shoulders as though he’s being held at gunpoint, and you roll your eyes impatiently at his dramatics.

“No trouble, mate.” Gaz says, his voice still cheerfully amiable. “Door’s behind you.”

“Gaz–” You hiss, incensed, but it’s pointless. 

Ben is already scrambling to open the door, heedless of the way you grasp onto his coat in protest. You sigh heavily as he tumbles out into the cold night, and the door slams shut behind him so loud it makes your head hurt.

You stand alone in your entryway, shivering a little in your tiny black dress and heels from the icy breeze that was let in from Ben’s escape. Your jaw is clenched tight, and you take a deep, deep breath as you turn to face your ex-boyfriend.

Gaz is still watching you, his deep brown eyes staring at you from beneath his long dark lashes. You try hard to ignore his expression, which is unmistakably hungry.

“You look good, baby.” He says, staring pointedly at the way your breasts are all pushed up in your tight dress. 

“Don’t call me that.” You grumble, teaching down to unbuckle your delicate heels. You cast them aside and kick them over so they’re laying beside Gaz’s runners.

Gaz just snickers, turning to follow after you when you march your way to the kitchen. Irritation is burning hot in your veins, your lips pursed as you struggle to bite your tongue. It’s so fucking typical that the exact night you try to have some cheap, meaningless sex with some stranger, Gaz has decided to land right into your home. It’s like he has a fucking radar for when you’re about to get laid.

“You could have gotten a hotel.” You snap over your shoulder as you make your way to the kettle. It’s already hot, but you flick the switch again anyway.

“Nah. They’re all booked out. Busy season, you know.”

God, he’s so full of shit. You both know he never even considered staying anywhere other than with you, just like the last few times.

Still, you persevere.

“You could have stayed with one of the guys.” You say, turning around and folding your arms over your chest.

Gaz glances down, and you realise that you’ve inadvertently pushed your breasts together and up. You hastily drop your arms again, and settle instead for planting your hands on your hips.

“Could have,” He admits, leaning against your kitchen table in a way that’s infuriatingly casual. “But they never offered.”

“Neither did I–!”

Gaz doesn’t even seem to hear you. He just steps towards you, reaching to grab an empty mug from the cupboard above your head. The movement brings him so close to you, close enough that your next inhale is scented with his fresh-sweet cologne, the one you always loved, and you find your eyelids fluttering as your muscles relax without your permission. He smells so familiar, so comforting. You hate it.

“Go get changed,” He murmurs, keeping his voice low like he knows the moment is delicate. “We’ll watch a movie.”

You’d love to get fired up, to shove him or curse at him, but it’s all you can do to find the strength to step away from him instead of melting into him. You’re pretty sure he deserves an ass-kicking for this stunt of this, but you decide to pick your battles. Or at least, to postpone them.

You waver another moment, debating over whether you should try to get the last say, but Gaz has already turned away to continue making the cup of tea that you had started. Recognising that the moment has passed, you huff a sigh and march out of the kitchen, making your way to your bedroom.

It takes quite a bit of wiggling to get out your dress – it might look good, but there’s an inordinate sense of relief when you finally tug it over your head and feel as though you can breathe unimpeded again. You unclip your bra and toss it aside, rolling your shoulders and sighing as your breasts are freed. 

Once you're dressed again in a worn-out massive t-shirt that drowns your body and some loose sweatpants, looking decidedly unsexy, you pad to your bathroom and start washing your makeup off. Now that you’re alone, that disappointment and frustration is settling in properly. Ben might have been boring, but if his kissing was anything to judge by, you might actually have had a perfectly enjoyable night with him.

Bare-faced and dressed for lounging in bed, you trudge back downstairs to your ex-boyfriend. It’s far from the way you wanted to end your night, but you’ve resigned yourself to your fate. You can hear the muffled sounds from the television as you make your way downstairs, and you redirect yourself towards your small sitting room.

Gaz is sat sprawled on the couch, his legs spread wide as he makes himself comfortable in your home. Something twists in your stomach at how comfy he looks, as though he belongs there. He looks around when you walk in, though your footsteps are quiet and muffled by your fluffy socks.

You look far from sexy right now in your ugly old loungewear and bare face, but Gaz brightens up at the sight of you.

“There she is.” He crows, though there’s something soft in his gaze that you can hardly face. “C’mon, love. Want to pick what we’re watching?”

You just look at him tiredly. He’s as handsome as ever; the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. He must have come straight here once he’d gotten back from deployment because his eyes are dark and exhausted and stubble is a little more overgrown than usual. You hate that he’s able to come into your space like this so easily – like he’s never left.

“Gaz–” You start to say, but you’re cut off when he reaches for your hand.

He tugs you towards him, and you put a knee hastily up on the couch to prevent yourself from falling flat into his lap.

“Shhh, c’mon. Just sit with me.” He murmurs, looking up at you with those damn pretty eyes.

You waver, but then you turn your head to the side and catch sight of the second cup of tea sitting on the coffee table. Gaz has made it just how you like it, and in your favourite mug too. You crumble almost instantly. 

“Stick to your side of the couch.” You grumble, before dropping yourself down heavily onto the sofa next to him.

Gaz hums, and you can already tell that he has no intention of following that order. His arm is already sprawled over the back of the couch; it’s not touching you, but you have no doubt that he’ll try to before the end of the night.

He sticks on some stupid movie on Netflix. You don’t pay attention. It’s a rom-com, which is typical. He always pretends he chooses the sappy romantic films for your benefit, but you’re not fooled. You see the way he watches them with avid interest, the way his toes curl in his socks when the big love confession scene comes on screen. It’s always been something that you’re impossibly fond of.

The two of you are silent for a while, but it’s not uncomfortable. Part of you wishes that it was awkward – it would be easier, you think. But he makes it so simple, sitting with him like this as the cheesy film plays in the background. You’re still a little tipsy from the drinks you’d had at dinner, and you melt into the couch beside him a little quicker than you think you would have otherwise.

“You ruined my night, you know.” You say at last, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

To your surprise, he’s already looking at you. You glance away hastily again, not wanting to make eye contact.

“Nah,” He says, and you feel his arm dip down a little. He’s cupping your shoulders now, and you should probably move away, but you don’t. “If anything, I saved you from having a long, disappointing night with some tosser you agreed to pity-date. He didn’t exactly look like your type, darling.”

“He was a perfectly nice guy.” You bite out, crossing your arms defensively over your belly in your big t-shirt.

“Nice guys don’t end the first date by groping your ass and humping you up against your wall in your own house.” He says, and if you’re not mistaken you’d say he sounds a little bitter.

You cast a sideways glance at him. He’s sitting up, watching you closely and leaning just slightly towards you. He’s so intense about the way he’s looking at you, his arm dipping low so that he’s holding you properly.

“Stop it.” You say. It hardly even sounds like a proper protest. You’re so tired, still a little floaty from the wine you’d had at dinner, and desperately disappointed by the lack of sexual satisfaction you had been hoping for.

There’s a pause, and then Gaz gives a small shrug. He pulls his arm back to give you space, but he still has that stupid smirk on his face. You can’t even be angry about the cockiness of his expression when his eyes are that soft though.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He murmurs. “I’m not being fair, am I?”

“No,” You say petulantly. “You’re not.”

He huffs a noise that’s almost a laugh, only he manages to stifle it so that it comes out as a cough instead. 

“Mm. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to ruin your big date night, especially when you got done up so pretty for it,” He murmurs, his voice low and sweet as honey trickling down your spine. “Let me make up for it. Come on, get over here.”

You hesitate, but Gaz isn’t really giving you an option. He begins to shift, one of his strong muscled arms looping around your waist as he pulls you into him. It takes you a long moment to realise what it is that he’s trying to do. He lays back on the couch and pulls you with him, encouraging you to pull your legs up onto the sofa so that the two of you are laying on your sides, with Gaz spooned up against your back. 

It’s definitely a bad idea to cuddle with him on the couch like this. You’re trying to set boundaries, to make it clear that you’re just friends (if you can even call it that) after your breakup. And yet… you don’t offer any sort of protest at all.

“Relax,” Gaz sighs from behind you, and you feel his nose nuzzle against the back of your neck. “You love cuddling.”

You roll your eyes, turning your head slightly so he can see the unimpressed expression on your face. 

“This isn’t enough to make up for being such a dick.” You grumble. Despite your griping, you don’t actually make any attempt to get out of his arms.

He was right, after all. You do love cuddling. It was your favourite thing to do when you were together. 

But you’re not together anymore, and it’s hard to ignore the gnawing guilt that you’re letting this grow into something that should be avoided instead of nipping it in the bud. You and Gaz had broken up months ago, and it was a perfectly amicable split. You can’t even say that he was at fault for any of it; the strain of the long distance part of your relationship while he was on deployment just grew too much for you, the space his absence left filling with brambled loneliness that pricked incessantly at you. You had known what you were getting into with this relationship with him, and yet when it came down to it you got too greedy, wanting more of him than he was able to give. 

Tonight was a moment of weakness for you, and though your hopes for sex may have been thwarted, you can’t turn down the soft familiar intimacy of Gaz’s strong body cradling you close against him.

Maybe it’s the wine you had at dinner, but you find your muscles relaxing a little as one of Gaz’s arms loops around your waist, his big hand coming to rest across your belly.

“Mm. I’m being selfish, love.” He murmurs, and you fight a shiver as his warm breath ghosts over the delicate shell of your ear. “This is more for me than for you.”

You’re not altogether sure that’s true. It’s certainly doing an awful lot for you right now. Gaz is in just a t-shirt, the muscles of his biceps bunching up under his bare skin as he tries to subtly nudge you closer to him. 

You’ve missed being all wrapped up in the warm embrace of him; he cuddles with his whole body, the front of his thighs all pressed against the back of yours, his strong chest moulding to your back as his face nuzzles against the back of your neck. You always feel so safe when he holds you like this, like he’s blocking out the rest of the world for you. You can only guess he feels the same – he holds you that much tighter every time he gets back home from his missions.

You grumble quietly, but soon settle down. The repetitive stroking motion of his thumb over your hip is more soothing than it should be. You take deep breaths, trying to be subtle about it, because all you can smell is Gaz and his citrusy sweet aftershave and you just want to drown in it.

“You can’t keep doing this.” You mumble, though all the fight has gone out of you. “It’s not… helpful.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then Gaz shifts behind you. His arm tightens around your waist almost imperceptibly, as though he thinks you’re going to push him away. But you’re being selfish now too, comfortably wrapped up against his chest.

“We said we’d stay friends,” He says at last, and he’s so close that you can feel his lips move against the back of your neck as he speaks. “Nothin’ wrong with some platonic cuddling. You should see how close me an’ Soap have had to cuddle to conserve heat when we’re out on the field.”

You huff a small laugh, which is obviously what he had been hoping for. Platonic cuddling. This certainly doesn’t feel platonic, but you can’t bring yourself to push him away. You’ve been craving this kind of closeness for months now, so you just let yourself reluctantly enjoy it. It would have been so much easier if you were able to enjoy it with Ben, with someone who meant nothing to you and wouldn’t have brought with him such a complicated web of feelings and history, but there’s a real sense of comfort in the familiarity of Gaz’s presence.

The film Gaz had chosen to stick on is a stupid one. It’s half action, half love story, with a strong rugged hero and a too-beautiful love-interest whose main role seems to be throwing out quips for comedic relief. You’ve seen a hundred versions of this plot play out in other films, though Gaz is predictably glued to the screen. He’s always loved these stupid films.

You’re comfortable enough that you fall into a light doze, uninterested in the television as you relish the heat from Gaz’s chest. He’s like a fucking human radiator, so hot that you can feel a thin dew of sweat begin to break out along your spine. It chases away the chill of the night and makes you so sleepy.

You’re almost asleep when movement from behind you jolts you back to wakefulness. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve imagined it. Then Gaz moves again, and this time it’s unmistakable.

Gaz is hard, the thick ridge of him impossible to miss as he presses against your ass. You’re awake instantly, the slight tipsiness from dinner vanishing into thin air. You’re on high alert, eyes darting back to the television to see what the fuck has aroused him, but there’s nothing of note happening onscreen. It’s just a conversation between characters, exposition setting up the next stage of the plot.

“Gaz,” You say, and your voice comes out louder than you had intended. “Stop humping my ass.”

You’re half-expecting him to deny it, but he just huffs a quiet snort, his nose nuzzling against the back of your neck.

“Sorry, love.” He says, though he doesn’t sound sorry in the least. “Can’t help it. Missed you loads.”

You can feel his cock even through the layers of your clothing, and you swallow hard. God, you’ve missed it. You’ve missed him, though it doesn’t seem like the right time to admit it. How are you ever supposed to get over each other if he keeps coming to stay with you every time he gets back from wherever in God’s name he’s been, when he holds you so sweetly and talks to you like you’re still his girl?

His hips rock into you in a movement that’s almost imperceptible, except you’re waiting for it. His hands are gripping your waist, his fingers curling into the soft flesh there. He’s always enjoyed the way your body yields to him, so much softer than the hard planes of muscle that make up his own, and it’s no surprise that he goes straight back to holding onto his favourite parts of you even as he ruts against your ass.

“Jesus, Gaz–” You start to complain, but your voice is a little too breathy to be convincingly angry.

“Stop that,” He murmurs, his lips pressing against the side of your neck. “You never call me that.”

That is true – after the breakup, calling him Kyle just seemed too intimate. It’s a name that usually falls from your lips with care, in soft whispers made for dark rooms and quiet moments. His callsign offers distance, reminds you both that what you had is in the past. Or that it should be in the past, at least.

“Kyle,” You concede tiredly. “You dickhead.”

He just hums. He knows you well enough to know that you’re not really angry; you’re not even attempting to move away from him, though you know you should. The film is mostly forgotten in the background, though you’re vaguely aware that the two characters onscreen have now progressed to confessing their love before the big final battle. You just sigh; this little romantic film moment is only going to encourage Gaz even more.

Yet still, you don’t move.

The way he’s grinding his thick cock against the swell of your ass is making your blood run hot. The pressure every time his hips roll lightly against you and the way that he uses his grip on your hips to pull you back against him is making your brain all stupid and fuzzy. It’s the only reason you can think of to explain the way you shift, the way you allow your bum to brush back against him. It earns you a soft little grunt that’s mostly muffled by the way he’s mouthing at your throat.

Oh, it would be so easy to slip the sweatpants that separates the two of you down, to allow him to slide into you. A little woozily, you think it would feel like he was coming home.

But to actually have sex feels like too much of a commitment, too confusing a step to take when things between you two were already muddled and confused enough. You’re almost afraid to even turn around to glance over your shoulder at him, as though making eye contact might mean you’ll both wake up and stop.

Gaz’s cock has gotten even harder, filling out thickly as he slots against the clothed groove of your ass. He’s not even touching your pussy, and yet your knickers are slick and sticky. It’s embarrassing at your age to be laying on the couch, watching a movie and getting dry-humped like a fucking teenager, and yet your skin feels as though it’s been lit aflame.

Then rustling fabric breaks the silence, and Gaz shifts a little behind you in an odd motion as the insistent pressure on your ass is finally relieved. In its absence, you’re almost disappointed. 

You tilt your head, just barely turning it, just enough to see that he’s just pulled out his cock.

“Kyle–”

“Sorry, baby,” He says again, panting against the side of your neck and making you shiver. “– ‘m just too hard, getting uncomfortable. Ignore it.”

Ignore it? You think, a little hysterically. The gentle rocking of his erection into your ass was one thing, but how the fuck are you supposed to ignore the fact that your ex is all pressed up against you, still holding you by the waist with one hand as the other fists at his cock.

You glance behind you and down before you can help yourself, your self-control as lacking as ever. Fuck. You’ve missed the sight of that. He has the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, even if right now it’s flushed dark and angry and painful looking. Your mouth waters. He was obviously telling the truth when he said it was getting sore, and you feel a reluctant swell of sympathy.

“Been thinking of you for months, baby.” He murmurs, placing a wet, messy kiss on your throat. “I can’t even fucking cum properly when you’re not around, it’s not the fucking same. God, even missed the way you smell–”

As if to punctuate that, he presses his nose in your hair and inhales deeply. You know you smell like the sweet perfume you had sprayed earlier, your favourite one. You know from experience that it’s also Gaz’s favourite one. You tell yourself it’s a coincidence.

“Why didn’t you fuck someone else then? Get it out of your system?” You say, and it comes out a little harsh, a little raw. It reveals more than you want to; you feel a little ill at the thought of Gaz with some faceless girl, holding her and making her laugh, her hands touching him like you do.

If Gaz picks up on the bite in your voice, he’s kind enough to ignore it. He just huffs a quick snort like the suggestion is ridiculous, his sloppy mouthing at your neck turning into a chaste affectionate kiss that feels totally at odds with the desperate motions of his hand pumping at his cock.

“Why would I do that when I had a girl waiting for me at home?” He asks, his voice so soft with you. “Never wanted anyone else.”

Your toes curl, guilt coiling in your stomach. You hate that you feel pleased that he’s waited for you, that he doesn’t want anyone else. You’re not being fair – it had been you who had broken it off, after all. He should be able to get with whoever he wants to. Conceivably, he is allowed to. Yet you can’t pretend that you wouldn’t have been sick to your stomach if he admitted that he had. 

God, you feel like such a hypocrite. Here you are, admittedly all too happy that Gaz has stayed faithful to a relationship that isn’t even intact anymore, and there he is, having just witnessed you come home with a stranger’s hands all over you.

“We’re not together anymore.” You whisper, when what you want to say is I’m sorry.

“I know.” Gaz replies, and it sounds like For now.

It’s not a surprise when the hand on your waist slips around to your belly, and then lower again as it slips beneath the waistband of your bottoms. You try and fail to suppress the wet gasp that’s pulled from your throat when his long fingers coast over the front of your knickers, finding your clothed clit with unerring accuracy.

“Oh, lace, baby?” He says, his breath catching in his eagerness before realisation seems to set in. “Oh. This was for your little date, eh?”

The guilt again, gnawing in your chest. You arch your back, simultaneously shying away and crowding your ass back up against him. It’s mortifying, being caught with your fancy underwear beneath your baggy unflattering sweatpants by your ex-boyfriend and having him know without a shadow of a doubt that you intended them to be seen by someone else.

“I was–” You start to say breathily, but Gaz doesn’t let you finish.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” He murmurs, his lips ghosting along the shell of your ear. “I know, I know. But he didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve you. Jesus, he didn’t even know what he fuckin’ had, ran like a coward–”

“Gaz–” You try again. You can’t help but feel as though you need to explain yourself, like the two of you should talk this through.

“You’re so soft, Jesus Christ.” He mutters, the side of his hand rubbing at the squishy flesh of your thighs as he strokes at your clit. “Were you always this soft?”

It sounds as though he’s trying to remember, desperate and wanting. You swallow thickly, closing your eyes as that familiar pleasure licks up your spine. He knows you so well, knows every part of you and exactly how to touch you, and you can hardly believe you ever entertained letting anyone else put their hands on you.

“I got a new body oil.” You breathe, distracted by his touch. “It’s– it’s vanilla scented.”

“Yeah,” He groans, and you shiver helplessly when you feel his tongue on your neck, licking a hot stripe up to your earlobe. “I can smell it.”

His index and middle fingers are so firm on either side of your clit, rolling circles around it without actually touching you properly. You sigh, back arching, but before you can actually enjoy it his hands are pulling away.

“Wait–” You gasp, your body crying out in protest as Gaz stops, pulling his hand back out of your pants.

Gaz just grunts, kisses your neck once more, then tugs your sweatpants down. You lift your hips up immediately, thoughtlessly, and then kick your sweats and knickers off impatiently. It’s a little embarrassing, especially when the cool air hits your slick, sticky thighs and you shiver.

“Oh god, fuck,” He groans, his plush lips dragging along the sensitive skin at the back of your neck. “You’ve ruined yourself, baby.”

It’s embarrassing to admit it, but it’s true. The dry spell you’ve experienced since the breakup has been little more than a mild inconvenience for the most part, but now it feels like your body is charged like a live wire. It feels like you’ve never been touched before, and you squirm backwards in an attempt to get any kind of friction again.

“Kyle–” You start to complain, but you don’t get to finish because then Gaz is slotting his cock in between your thighs.

He groans, taking a breath as he shuffles his hips closer. His pretty, glistening cock is wedged between the soft pudge of your thighs, the head of it nudging against the wet folds of your cunt every time he twitches.

“Let me put the tip in, baby.” He says, his voice gruff and wanting in your ear. “Literally just the tip, that’s it, huh? It’s not like actual fucking, right?”

In this moment, you think you’d agree to anything to get his dick into you. You had been all kinds of wound up even before you had come home to find Gaz waiting for you, but it’s like your body had some kind of Pavlovian response to Gaz’s touch because now you’re practically panting for him.

He’s right, after all. It’s not really fucking. It means that you can maintain the flimsy thin pretence that this means nothing.

“Okay.” You manage to say, though it comes out humiliatingly breathy. “Yeah, okay, the tip–”

Gaz’s cock is pressing into you before you can even finish your sentence, bullying into the wet grasping tightness of your cunt and making you gasp. 

You’ve gone long enough without getting laid that there’s a slight sting as he presses into you, but it’s overshadowed by the breathless relief. God, you’d forgotten how fucking good his dick felt inside you. He knows just how to use it too, and you wheeze slightly as he rocks an inch inside before pulling back again.

“Oh, fuck, baby.” Gaz moans throatily, the vibration of it rumbling right down your spine. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you’re so tight.”

“Mph,” You manage to make a muffled sort of sound against the couch cushion your face is pressed against, your mouth hanging softly open as you pant for breath.

True to his word, Gaz just presses the first inch or so inside. You almost hold your breath, waiting for the rest to slide inside and split you open, but he doesn’t. He just rocks back and forth, just missing hitting the spot inside that makes your nerves sing.

You wish, stupidly, fervently, that just this once Gaz would go back on his word. That he’d abandon his promise to just stick that first inch of his cock inside, that he’d slam home and stretch you wide and let his cock brush against the nerves just a little deeper inside you. But that’s not Gaz’s style; you know he’s not going to give you any more unless you beg for it.

Gaz rocks his hips in teeny tiny movements, just enough to have you squirming in frustration. You’re so wet that you know he could slide deeper with ease if he only just tilted his hips right, but he remains doggedly steadfast in pumping just the barest inch into you, groaning with the effort it’s taking to stop himself plunging fully inside.

“Oh god,” He breathes, sounding wrecked in your ear. “You feel even better than I remember.”

You don’t know how he can even say that when he’s barely even inside you, but no matter how much you wiggle and squirm, he just won’t slide any deeper.

“You’re such an asshole.” You slur out against the fabric of the couch, your cheek squished against the cushions. Your chin is a little wet – are you drooling?

Infuriatingly, Gaz doesn’t even argue.

“Mm.” He grunts, kissing the curve of your neck. “What’d I do this time?”

The fact that he has the gall to ask only irritates you further. You let out a quiet, grumbling noise, but his hand grips at your hip and stops you from writhing.

“Just… just put the rest of it in.” You say, craning your neck to try and look at him. 

Your eyes are wide and wet, pathetically teary. You’ve been craving intimacy like this for weeks now. Maybe longer, if you’re being honest with yourself. It’s the kind of pleasure you’ve only ever gotten from Gaz, and you wheeze as your body opens up under his touch. God, you don’t know how you thought anyone would ever be able to fuck you like Gaz does.

“Mm, you sure, baby?” He murmurs, nosing against the back of your skull. “Thought we were just cuddling.”

“Don’t be a dick.” You snap, your patience reaching the end of its tether.

He just laughs, a breathless sort of amused gasp, before snapping his hips forward in one sharp movement and seating his cock inside you. Though it’s what you had been demanding, the abruptness of it startles you and you yowl, your back arching.

“Sh, sh, shh, sorry, love.” Gaz pants, before sighing in wordless contentment as his broad chest curves around your back, his strong arm looping around your belly. “Oh, fuck. Missed this so much, you have no idea. I swear you were made for me, I couldn’t fit as well inside anyone else.”

“Just– just move.” You whine, a little plaintive. It’s humiliating how desperate you are, but there’s no turning back now. “Please, Kyle–”

Gaz pitches into movement instantly, as though he’s got something to prove. Or maybe he’s just worried that you’re going to change your mind. His hips pull back then snap forward again, and again. 

He’s so strong, his rhythm steady enough to rock you wildly back and forth on the lumpy couch cushions. You clutch at the fabric beneath you, gasping as his arm pulls you back and keeps you pinned against his hot, hard chest. 

“Oh.” You breathe, tilting your head back with a pathetic little whimper as he fucks into you from behind, the two of you plastered together like sardines in the tiny can that is your sitting room couch.

This is just what you needed, you think a little wildly. God, you’ve been craving physical touch like this for months, since the last time you had seen Gaz. It’s galling to admit that any other man is a poor substitute, unable to fill the void that your ex-boyfriend has left in your life.

“Kyle,” You whine, searching for something. You don’t even know what you’re asking for, but Gaz is as patient with you as ever.

He just hums, leaning in over your shoulder and pressing hot, hungry kisses along your jawline where it’s exposed as you lean your head back. The arm that’s been wrapped around your belly coasts lower, until his big lovely hand is pressed against your cunt. His fingers search for your clit and find it easily, confident and familiar enough with your body that he barely even has to try to make you feel good. 

Gaz coos soothingly at you and rolls your clit between his fingers as his thrusts begin to come faster and harder; he builds up a steady rhythm, one that lets him sink as deep inside of you as possible and quickly renders you speechless. The living room is soon filled with wet slapping sounds from where Gaz is pounding into you from behind, the grunts and pants and moans that both of you make rapidly drowning out the stupid action sequence playing out on the television from the long forgotten film.

Unbelievably, you feel a sweet stirring in your lower belly already. It’s with a sense of tired resignation that you acknowledge you’re going to come on Gaz’s dick, despite your original intentions for the evening. Typical. 

But he’s not going to last either, judging by the strained moans in your ear.

“Shit,” He curses, and then his teeth sink into the side of your neck. You shudder, the feeling of him sucking a harsh hickey into your throat sending electric sparks racing through your nerves.

You think, judging from the desperate edge to Gaz’s humping into you from behind, that Gaz has been yearning in your absence in the same way you have for him. You’re biting on your lip hard in an effort to stifle the plaintive, wanting little moans that are threatening to spill over, but your attempts at quieting yourself are mostly unsuccessful. It makes you feel a little crazy, but Gaz doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, the evidence that you want him too only seems to encourage him. 

Your eyes are half-closed as you fuck your hips back on Gaz’s cock, relishing the satisfied little cries he’s emitting into the back of your neck. You clutch clumsily at the strong arm he has wrapped around your belly, crying out yourself as the head of his cock hits that one spot inside you that makes you feel gooey inside. Your toes curl as your head tips back, your skull neatly cradled in the space between Gaz’s head and the couch cushions as he peppers kisses along the side of your neck.

The wet slapping of your bodies colliding is obscene in the quiet of the room; the stupid film still playing does nothing to drown it out. Your body is as limp and relaxed as a doll, allowing him to fuck into you from behind in a frenzy. Right now, you can’t even recall why you ever would have tried to deny yourself this pleasure in the first place.

His hips clap against your ass, those wet sounds getting even louder and more obscene than ever. Gaz is viscerally pleased with the way your ass bounces every time he fucks into you, because he moans and picks up the pace as if he just wants to watch your glutes jiggle every time his hips slap against you. 

That familiar ball of tension starts tightening in your abdomen, your body winding up for a long-awaited and much needed release. It’s so typical that this orgasm feels like it’s going to be a big one too, as though your body needed Gaz to be there to guide you through it in order to achieve proper satisfaction.

But then, in a move so infuriating you almost burst into tears, Gaz pulls out and leaves you high and dry.

“No!” You blurt, and it comes out almost as a wail. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry, baby.” Gaz says a little breathlessly. “Need you to turn over. Want to see you.”

As soon as you realise that he’s not trying to stop and that he’s just trying to reposition you, you’re quick to roll over so that you’re facing him. It seems like that’s exactly what he wanted, because he grins wide and reaches for your hips, eagerly pulling you closer.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He mumbles, his eyes like warm caramelised honey as they track over your face. 

You’re pretty sure he’s full of shit; you’re panting like you’ve run a marathon, you’re sweaty, your hair is dishevelled, and you’re still wearing the ugly sweatshirt you had put on earlier. Yet, even still, Gaz’s genuine little compliment has your heart flipping in your ribcage.

You can’t help but think that you and Gaz are like feral little animals right now. You can barely keep your hands off each other; now that you’ve rolled over to face him, his hands are roaming over your hips and ass like he’s trying to memorise the feel of you by touch alone. 

Embarrassingly, you’re no better – you lunge forward to kiss him, taking advantage of your new position, and he kisses you back hungrily.

Lying sideways on the couch like this is cramped, but Gaz uses his hand on your ass to tug you closer. Then he reaches down, long fingers gripping at your thigh before he pulls it up so that your leg is hitched over his hip.

Oh no, You barely have time to think it before his cock is pressing into you again, the slide made easy this time. Too intimate!

The panicked thought is swiftly dispelled the moment Gaz starts moving again, because goddamn this position is so much better. It’s almost difficult to tell where Gaz ends and you begin, so intertwined are your bodies. Gaz barely even allows for an inch of space. He fucks into you almost as soon as he’s pulled back, making for a fast, frantic pace that barely even gives you a chance to breathe.

You squeal, but your noises are half-moans as you rock your hips mindlessly into his rough, almost animalistic thrusts. Your leg hitched over his hip means that he’s grinding into you deep, deeper than you thought was possible. 

The way the two of you are fucking feels a little bit unhinged, rutting and humping your bodies together in search of mutual pleasure. It should be clumsy and graceless, yet somehow it feels good, as though your body remembers exactly how good Gaz has always treated you, as though your whole being is having a Pavlovian response to his touch. Pleasure burns in your gut, tight and hot, and you moan stupidly as Gaz pounds into you.

“Oh god.” You say without meaning to. The sound of your voice shocks you; you sound wrecked, as though you’ve been fucking for hours. It would have been embarrassing to reveal just how affected you were if Gaz wasn’t also clearly just as eager for it.

“Yeah,” He says, a hybrid of a groan and a gasp muffled against your lips as he clutches at your ass and drives into you wildly. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

You are too, you realise wildly. You’re struck by how quickly you’ve both gotten to this point. This whole encounter has been frenzied and feverish, as though the poorly stifled desire between you had turned explosive. 

Gaz kisses you again, and his teeth clack against yours slightly as he licks into your mouth. It’s messy and wet, and it sends a delicious throb of pleasure shooting through your belly. He’s acting so possessive that it’s making your head spin. It should definitely be sending warning bells ringing in your head, or red alarms flashing in your minds eye – it can’t be a good thing that your ex-boyfriend is currently fucking you on your couch like he’s trying to claim you. But you’re apparently a little stupid and very weak, and Gaz has always known how to fuck you dopey and thoughtless. Instead of worry, you get the edges of an orgasm beginning to fizz in your peripheral awareness.

Your pussy must flutter or tighten around him as that lovely sweet promise of release edges closer, because Gaz moans in anticipation and his eager thrusts take on an edge of purpose. You almost protest when he breaks off the kiss, but then you realise that he just wants to be able to focus on keeping his rhythm steady. It’s frenzied and hot, and you swear the air itself is crackling as he kisses sloppily at your neck and fucks you hard.

“Love you,” He slurs in your ear, breathless. “Love you so much, baby.”

His thrusts turn more shallow and far more forceful the closer he gets. Little moans and whines escape his lips between kisses, the sounds ratcheting up in intensity as the two of you rut together.

“Tell me you love me,” He pleads, “Please— tell me you fuckin’ love me, baby. I know you do. I know you—”

You shouldn’t say it. You can’t say it. Yet his cock is fucking you sloppy and stupid, and your mouth moves before you even register that you’re speaking.

“Love you too,” You whimper like a pathetic little idiot, revelling in the exquisite feeling of him grinding against your g-spot just right. It feels so good, you know you’re so, so close to orgasm.

The ache in your abdomen persists— you clench tightly around his cock, your body straining as the muscles in your core clench, trying so hard to push yourself closer to the orgasm you know is coming. You’re so close, so so close— it burns, aches, drives you mad. All you can do is mewl, wrapping your arms around his muscled shoulders as he pounds into you despite the awkward angle.

You can feel your clit throbbing, pulsing, your entire body trying so goddamn hard to climax that you feel like you’re about to cry. You’re burning beneath your skin and all you want to do is gnash your teeth into the elegant line of Gaz’s throat, to leave some kind of indelible mark on his lovely smooth skin.

“Please, please, please— yes, fuck— oh, Kyle,” Your words come out on the breath of an uneven gasp, stuttering with each movement of his hips, perfectly synchronized. 

His voice is low and hot in your ear as he pants, “Let me come inside you, baby— let me, please— fuck.”  

You should say no. Every logical part of you knows that you should tell him to pull out, and yet the wires are crossed when it comes to your actual response. Your leg tightens around his waist, heart seizing in protest at the idea of him pulling out.

“Yes.” You gasp, continuing your streak of impulsive decision-making. Your own hips twitch forward in weak little humps in an effort to fuck yourself onto his cock, your clit grinding against the dark curls at his pubic bone. “Yes, inside, please–”

Your breathy, eager permission seems to give him a burst of energy. He picks up the pace, his body curving into you as his arms wrap around you in a tight embrace. It feels as though your entire world has been narrowed down to Gaz, his broad shoulders blocking out your view of the rest of the room. You cling to him, breathless and messy as you whimper like a loser, your body trembling from the toe-curling zings of pleasure that keep shooting up your spine.

“Oh, oh.. Kyle, please–” You practically sob, your fingernails digging harshly into his shoulders. “Love you, love you, oh my god, I’m gonna come–”

Gaz grunts, obviously eager as his movements grow thoughtful and determined. He knows exactly what you want, what you need at this moment. His abdominal muscles tense and flex with every calculated, deliberate thrust. There is no way to escape the length of him moving hard and thick inside you – not that you want to escape so much as a second of it, of course.

“That’s my girl, always so fucking perfect.” He snarls as your body eagerly takes every dirty roll of his hips, palming at your thigh where it’s hitched over his hip. “Fuckin’ Christ, I’ve been dreaming of your cunt for fucking months, never wanted anything else–”

It makes no sense. Absolutely no sense, that those bizarre, lust-crazed possessive words are what drag you trembling, screaming over the crest of an orgasm so intense the walls of the room white out, each sweeping pulse leaving you unable to do anything but clench and shudder and arch beneath him.

Gaz fucks you like a damn machine; he gives you long, deep strokes over and over as you’re falling apart. Your body seizes around the hot flesh of Gaz’s cock, your mind going white as your cunt spasms, your hole clamping down and pulsing with every desperate, loud moan torn from your mouth. 

You feel like a sloppy little slut, your hips jerking towards him instead of away even as your orgasm washes through you and leaves your body tender and oversensitive. It feels so damn good to feel your mind washing blank and clear, not a single thought taking hold. 

When the toe-curling height of pleasure subsides, you find your nerves frayed and hyper-sensitive. A plaintive whine breaks out of your throat as Gaz keeps fucking you, beginning to thrust up frantically into your twitching pussy. Your body falls limp as Gaz bounces your pliable, warm body up and down his cock as he groans into your ear.

It’s like the rhythmic tightening of your drooling, creaming cunt has him losing his mind, because he grabs the meat of your hips and begins jerking your limp body back towards him. The slap slap slap! of the impact is so loud that every slap makes your breath catch.

“Fuck. I'm—” Your hands slap clumsily at his shoulders, reaching for anything to hold on to, but he doesn’t stop. "Kyle. Kyle—" It’s just your voice, hoarse, breathless, and Gaz bearing down on you, the sound of your bodies somehow growing sloppier, messier as he fucks you and it’s uncompromising, just skirting the edge of painfully overwhelming—

He breaks, shoulders trembling, head bowed into the curve of your neck as he lets out a long, desperate moan. It’s a drawn out, rough groan that is more sob than pleasure, and then you feel him inside you, spilling red hot and wet. Your own orgasm still isn’t fully finished, rolling leisurely through you in little aftershocks, your body still tightening and shivering, and it goes on and on and on.

He holds on to you throughout, as if he’s worried he’ll blow away into the wind without anchoring himself to you. His hips slow, but don’t fully stop. He rolls his hips into you slowly, leisurely, as though he has all the time in the world as he shivers in his come down. You blink, waiting for the colour to bleed back into your vision and for the ringing in your ears to stop, and for the first time all night you’re not thinking about anything at all.

“Please, Kyle.” You slur out stupidly. You have no idea what you’re even asking for; there’s just some vague, barely formed desperation floating around your painfully blank mind as you search for something.

“Mm.” Gaz hums. It feels like he’s everywhere, his broad chest filling up your sight and enveloping you. His hands roam over your body: the backs of your thighs, squeezing as his hands drift over your ass, up and down your back, your neck, his fingers catching around the thin strands of hair and the back of your neck, until finally he settles his fingers on your cheeks.

His palms stay there, just cupping your cheeks as the two of you struggle to regulate your breathing and regain your composure. That antsy sense of desperation eases a little when he leans in to nuzzle fondly at your face, dropping sweet little kisses along your cheeks and nose.

Gaz’s chest rumbles with a low, lovely laugh, his voice gravelly from his climax. “You’re overflowing, sweetheart.”

You let out a careless little sigh, before relaxing experimentally. You can feel a gush of warm seed begin to ooze out around Gaz’s cock, spilling out of your entrance and coating his balls. You wriggle lazily, cunt still pulsing as your wildly beating heart gradually slows to a lazy flutter.

You think you should probably be panicking now. You’ve just fucked your ex, told him you loved him, then let him come inside. With no condom. God, you’re stupid. But the wave of horror you’re expecting never comes. You feel too floaty to care; you suspect if it was anyone other than Gaz, the mortification would have knocked into you like a sledgehammer. 

“You’re gonna get cum on the couch.” You complain, the words coming out clumsy on your tongue.

Gaz just snorts. He makes no effort to pull out, and you have no desire to push him away. The intimacy of your sweat-slick skin pressed together is enough to take your breath away, and it’s only further compounded by the sensation of his cock gradually softening inside you.

“I’ll get it cleaned, love.” He drawls lazily, leaning in to kiss your swollen lips. “Or pay for a new one. Whichever you want.”

When you kiss him back he sighs fondly, one thumb stroking over your cheekbone. You’re still limp in his arms, boneless and spent as you wriggle greedily into his arms. His cock is still lodged inside you, and you’re sure he must be getting uncomfortably sensitive but to your relief he just moans in quiet appreciation when you try to worm your way closer.

“You made a mess.” You mumble against his lips. 

You’re being a little unfair, considering your own slick is coating your thighs and Gaz’s lower belly, but Gaz has always rolled with even the most unreasonable attitude you’ve thrown his way. So he just chuckles, and you feel a little insane as you wonder if anyone else would ever be as patient with you.

“Think we both did, doll.” He murmurs fondly. He leans in and catches your lips with his again, kissing you slowly with a lazy, lewdly open mouth. One hand curls against the nape of your neck, the other hand reaching up beneath your sweater and curling possessively against your left tit, sweeping over your sluggish, sated heartbeat.

You feel practically brainless after your orgasm, relaxed and loose in Gaz’s arms. There’s something to be said for how safe you feel with him, as much as you’d like to deny it, but reality is starting to slowly sink in.

You pull away from his mouth to try and collect yourself, unable to think when he’s kissing you like that. 

“Fuck.” You breathe, closing your eyes with a sigh. It’s slow, but you’re finally starting to think again. “We shouldn’t– we should have used a condom.”

Gaz’s eyes are lidded with fond amusement as he watches you quietly. His hand kneads at your breast absent-mindedly, as though he’s forgotten that he’s groping at you. 

“Don’t overthink it,” He murmurs, kissing your forehead again. “I saw your box of pills in the bathroom. And I’m clean. Haven’t been with anyone but you.”

You tremble a little at his admission, your fingers digging into his shoulders. You feel like you’re losing your mind. Gaz is the most beautiful man you’ve ever met, funny and sweet and always so caring. You love him, even if it kills you a little to admit it, and you don’t know how to respond to his admission that he’s been faithful to you during the long months you weren’t together.

Gaz misinterprets whatever expression is on your face, thumb stroking soothingly over your cheek again. “We can get you a morning-after pill, if it’ll make you feel better.”

You don’t bother correcting him. You’re not that fussed over the morning-after pill – you’re careful when it comes to your birth control, and Gaz had always cum inside you when you were together. The weight of his cock inside you is comforting almost, the wet slide of his cum dripping out of you makes you feel as though you’d never been apart in the first place. You wonder how you could ever have been thick enough to think that someone else could fill Gaz’s place in your life.

As if he knows what you’re thinking, Gaz’s lips twitch. “That pillock you brought home would’ve been such a disappointment, darling.”

You can’t stop your eyes from rolling, exasperated. 

“You don’t know that.” You grumble, though you don’t pull away. You’re still all curled up against his chest, skin still slick and sticky from rapidly cooling sweat, your leg still slung over Gaz’s hip to keep his now-soft cock nestled inside you.

“Sure I do.” He says, and that cocky arrogance that both drives you mad and makes you swoon is rearing its head. He reaches down, and his thick fingers roll over your much-too-sensitive clit. “She missed me, gorgeous. Don’t think she would have liked some strange tosser pounding away at her with no idea how to please her.”

The way he talks about your pussy as though it has its own thoughts and feelings has you rolling your eyes again, though your cheeks burn with embarrassment. To your immense irritation, you think he might have a point. You haven’t come that hard in months, not since the breakup.

“Oh, shut up.” You sigh tiredly.

He snickers, and then shifts. It takes you a moment to realise that he’s pulling his hips back preparing to pull out. Your brain stalls, and you wrap your arms around his neck and shoulders in protest. You’re not ready to feel the invasive, aching emptiness that will no doubt throb through your core as soon as he’s not filling you up. 

“Stay.” You say, and it comes out as an embarrassingly breathy little plea.

Gaz goes practically limp, as though your hoarse request had taken the wind right out of him. You’re not expecting the way he brings both arms around your waist before rolling over onto his back, hauling you up to lay over his chest. His cock remains firmly lodged inside you, though the movement has resulted in his white creamy spend leaking out onto your inner thighs.

“Not going nowhere.” He mumbles, one hand stroking over your flank to soothe you. “I’m on leave for at least a month.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Gaz hums. He must sense that this is a delicate moment, because he doesn’t make any ribald jokes about having all month to fuck you like you’re expecting him to. He just presses a tender kiss to your temple, his lips lingering gently.

Usually, you’d probably be a little embarrassed by how clingy you’re being. You had been so damn determined not to fall into bed with Gaz after the breakup, but you’re so, so weak. His stupid honey brown eyes and gorgeous dimples and crooked grin is enough to send you to your knees. You rest your forehead against his chest as he holds you close; at least like this, you can’t see his stupid handsome face.

He’s obviously pleased with the way you’re snuggling into him, because his chest rumbles as he hums in satisfaction. He’s holding you tight like he thinks you’re going to slip away the moment he blinks.

“You okay?” He asks quietly.

You don’t answer immediately. There’s no way to brush this under the carpet, or to go back to pretending at detached disinterest. If you had wanted to play this off as just a bit of stress relief, then you should have rolled away from him the second he’d spilled inside of you rather than cuddling with him on the couch. There’s no way that you can claim that this was just a case of needing to get laid; you’re still clutching at him like a limpet, the two of you intertwined so tight that it’s difficult to tell when your limbs end and Gaz’s begin.

“I’m tired.” You sigh eventually, sidestepping the conversation that you know you’ll have to deal with eventually.

No doubt Gaz notices your not particularly subtle avoidance, but he doesn’t comment. He seems quite happy to indulge your every whim; he probably wants to avoid the this-was-a-mistake-and-we-need-to-maintain-boundaries conversation even more than you do.

“Let’s get you to bed then,” He murmurs, and then he surprises you by sitting up. You’re still laid out across his chest, which means that when he shimmies up into a sitting position, you end up sitting sprawled in his lap.

You’re still speared a little awkwardly on his soft cock, the sensation of him inside you making your eyelids flutter a little. You feel satisfied, your muscles still watery and weak, and you sigh a little mournfully when Gaz finally pulls his cock out of you. You ache, a deep throb that both stokes and settles you. It’s like a comfortable little reminder that Gaz was here, and that he left his mark on you.

You can feel the way he leans back just to get a glimpse of his spend trickling down the inside of your thigh. You pout and bury your face into his throat, your arms wrapped tight around his shoulders still as you try to hide your sudden self-consciousness.

But Gaz isn’t interested in giving you a moment to hide. You feel the edge of his teeth ghost the shell of your ear before he speaks, just low enough to make you shiver.

“Let me take you out tomorrow, sweetheart.” He says, and beneath his usual cocky countenance you hear the edge of a plea. “I’ll make up for ruining your date tonight. You can wear that little dress from earlier for me again.”

You feel exposed, stripped bare as you perch in Gaz’s lap. His hand strokes evenly over your spine, waiting patiently for your response.

“I want a fancy dinner.” You mumble, your fingers curling around his shoulders. “At a nice restaurant.”

You hear a shaky little exhale, and Gaz’s arms tighten around your waist. It strikes you that he’s relieved, and you feel your heart tremble in response. The knowledge that he wants you still is enough to have your own lungs seizing in response; you can’t quite bear to wonder if you’ve been wasting time for these past few months that you’ve been broken up. 

“Whatever you want.” He says it like a prayer, tilting his head in search of your lips again.

The kiss is easy, the months that you’ve been apart dissolving into nothing. You’re a little too stubborn to give in entirely and beg for him back just yet though, but you doubt it matters. You’ve already admitted your weakness for him in the middle of shagging, and you’re not stupid enough to hope that he’s somehow forgotten it. You’ve been trying so hard to shove all those feelings down deep, but you’re not too surprised that they’ve all come bubbling out. He’s got a month of leave. You have no doubt that he’s going to use that time to change your mind. You find that you don’t mind the idea as much as you thought you might; you suspect that you can be swayed all too easily.

You peek up at him, only to come face to face with his sweet, hopeful deep brown eyes. He’s not pushing, but you can see the weight of desire and yearning in every inch of his face. No doubt it’s mirrored on your own. You don’t think you could ever look into his pretty face and deny him anything.

You hum, then whisper the only answer you could ever give.

“Yeah. Okay. It’s a date, then.”

[noemilivv]

What the…

HAZBIN HOTEL CAST are like as …

PARTNERS !! (and before that!)

Includes: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Alastor, Sir Pentious, Husker, Niffty, Lucifer Morningstar, Adam, Lute

Warnings: Swearing, S1 spoilers, sexual references, mentions of abuse, mentions of Valentino, messy, barely proofread

Also side note, if this is highly enjoyed, I will do a Part 2 with more characters!

Charlie Morningstar

Crush!Charlie is a bit obvious. Not TOO obvious, but maybe if you squint hard enough…

Crush!Charlie has a tendency to show extra attention to you, especially if you’re a resident at the Hotel who’s trying to go up to Heaven.

Example: You’re the first person she asks if they need help, invite for a group activity, etc

Despite the fact that Crush!Charlie is really eager to confess her feelings, she truly does find value in getting to know you as a friend first.

She believes that it has its perks, which it does.

Crush!Charlie enjoys getting to know your hobbies, interests, past, strengths, all of it.

But as you are going off on your usual yap sesh about your face topic …

Crush!Charlie can’t help but peck you on the cheek, you’re cheeks just look so squishy and cute!

You’re stunned… You would’ve never thought that.. Charlie? Likes you? Pffff… Ain’t no way!

Crush!Charlie scrambles to explain to you her genuine feelings, and how she’s wanted to be with you for a long time, and scrambles again to ask you if you feel the same.

Now it’s your turn to shut someone up with a kiss.

You give her a drawn out peck on the lips, not too short, but not too long. Just enough to satisfy.

And yes, you do feel the same.

Now GF!Charlie is totally stoked! But she’s also a bit scared of the shoes she has to fill.

GF!Charlie decides to give you a little candy bouquet (that she made!)! Honestly it’s the cutest frickin thing, it has little chocolates and lollipops like AAA get me a Charlie!

GF!Charlie decides to introduce you to her dad, sure you guys have crossed paths a few times, but like, formally this time.

At first Lucifer is intimidated by you (not that he’d admit that), similar to the rivalry he had with Alastor.

But after awhile, he warms up to you, at the end of the day he loves his daughter, and he sees that you do to. So long as you treat Charlie good and you like rubber ducks, he’s chill with you :)

GF!Charlie’s love language is gift giving and physical touch!

On one hand, she loves giving gifts, it’s very soothing for her to go out and find something to give you, or coming up with an idea to make something for you, it takes her mind off of things

But at the other end of the scale, she loves receiving physical touch, she kinda freezes when she does because it’s so much to her but at the same time she enjoys it dearly! Even something as simple as rubbing her hand with your thumb while handling hands, long hugs, or hand kisses send her into a spiral haha

At the end of the day, GF!Charlie loves you a ton and honestly is just happy to be there loving you lol

Vaggie

When Crush!Vaggie realizes she has a crush on you, it’s a bit of an ‘Oh Shit’ moment, y’know?

Due to her secret, and the fact that she has a bit of trust issues, they just don’t go hand-in-hand with love.

Crush!Vaggie is a bit dependent on you to make the first move, but that doesn’t mean she won’t, but she needs you to throw a few jabs first.

The more her crush on you stays and the more she doesn’t do about it, the more it starts to bug her

Crush!Vaggie decides one day she doesn’t know how much more of the subtle flirting and eye contact from across the room she can take, cause deep down, she has a gut feeling you like her too.

So, Crush!Vaggie decides she’s going to confess.

When it comes down to it, obviously you feel the same, and she really wants to make an impact right away!

Now GF!Vaggie decides to plan a little surprise for you, a date!

GF!Vaggie decides to just take you out to the back of the hotel and you two lay down and look at the night sky (as I’m not sure if there’s stars in Hell tbh.)

You two sit there and talk, it gets vulnerable for a bit, slowly but surely starting to break down eachothers walls… But not for too long before one of you is like “NOPE, too much emotions for one day!” haha

At the end of the day, GF!Vaggie, isn’t perfect at this whole girlfriend thing, but for you? She’ll sure as hell try.

Angel Dust

Like Vaggie, Crush!Angel is tempted to “NOPE” out, after falling into Val’s trap, he’s hesitant to try again.

But soon enough Charlie shows him that opening up got her an amazing girlfriend, so he decides, hey, might as well right?

Crush!Angel goes out of his way to obnoxiously flirt with you, but you thought this was normal behavior, as he does it with basically everyone at the hotel.

Crush!Angel thinks it’ll take time, but you’ll catch on, and well… not exactly…

One day, Crush!Angel comes back from a long shoot, and he pulls a good, classic flirt on you, and poof! Right over your head!

And he doesn’t know what got in him, maybe the alcohol, maybe Valentino, maybe the buildup stress, who’s knows, but he snaps…

Crush!Angel proceeds to go off about how he’s always flirting with you and how he just doesn’t get how you’re so blind that you just can’t see it!?

And you start to laugh, which at first makes him more mad.

“Well how was I supposed to know if you flirt with everyone here? I thought it was normal!”

And with that, you walk away, leaving him bamboozled.

The night goes on as normal, you head up to your hotel room, and just as you’re about to turn lights out you hear a knock on your door and a voice from the outside.

“So do you wanna fuck me too, or no?”

The next day, you and Crush!Angel have a talk over a drink or two, and decide, not only do you two wanna fuck, you also want to date!

Now BF!Angel is a bit nervous, but don’t fret! He has that feeling in his stomach that makes him want to grin like he’s never grinned before.

BF!Angel’s love languages are quality time and words of affirmations, considering all that Val can do to him in a day, he doesn’t love being touched without consent, but that doesn’t mean touch is off limits by any means! Just ask and he’ll give it to you!

And for quality time, you and BF!Angel don’t really go out for dates, considering how fans (and Val) are, also considering the fact that he just wants a break from life.

Instead, you two usually just spend time in eachothers hotel rooms, binge shows, give eachother makeovers, play dress up, just being the kids you never got the opportunity to be.

And once he sees that Fat Nuggets likes you, he knows you’re the one.

Alastor

When Crush!Alastor first realizes he has feelings for you, he makes a mental note and goes on with his day.

He doesn’t really understand the point in fussing about it like most do, but then again, he’s not most people.

Crush!Alastor does thoroughly enjoy spending time with you though, he likes to just sorta keep you around.

He sticks up for you, if somebody gives you a problem, it will be handled, even if it’s a bit sadistic, he will do it everytime.

Crush!Alastor doesn’t feel the need to confess directly, but if you ask him how he feels about it, he won’t deny his feelings towards you!

So whenever Crush!Alastor becomes BF!Alastor, he does lay down some ground rules, as a relationship with him, will not be the same as a relationship with others.

BF!Alastor is a gentleman, no doubt. He opens any door that you may come across (car, building, whatever), he asks for consent before doing anything — however intimate it may be, and he does buy you flowers.

But, that does not mean BF!Alastor is perfect, he’s not the most physically affectionate, unless he initiates it himself, and he’s not great with feelings.

If you’re upset, he tries to stay away, not because he doesn’t care, but because most of the time he’ll keep his upbeat energy and act like nothings wrong in attempts to cheer you up — but sometimes that’s just not what you need.

But, BF!Alastor kicks in eventually, and turns on some calming music, turns his radio affect down in volume so the sound doesn’t overwhelm you, and give you a nice, long hug as you two sway around the room.

By far, BF!Alastor’s love language is acts of service and quality time.

BF!Alastor honestly adores spending time with you, you’ve made him feel more alive than he has in years, and he follows you around like a puppy, but he makes it look like you following him around rather than the other way.

And he’ll always do things for you, even if he doesn’t understand them. If they make you happy, he might as well get started on doing them, because he can’t go awhile without seeing your darling face and your beautiful smile.

Sir Pentious

Crush!Pentious is… very… obvious.

But you don’t say anything, cause he’s adorkable.

You watch day after day out of pure adoration as Crush!Pentious tumbled over his words and changes his mind as he tried to make a move, and you loved every second of it.

This went on for awhile, and you started to notice his little quirks, which only made you fall for him more.

Eventually, one day after Crush!Pentious had tried to subtly say that he liked you, you decided to do him a favor.

“Pen.”

“I like you too.”

“I- UHM- WELL- YOU’RE- I- UHM-”

Yeah maybe that didn’t go how you thought it would…

Well in more ways than one, cause Crush!Pentious became BF!Pentious that day!

BF!Pentious was really nervous, he finally had you! But he didn’t wanna lose you cause he did something stupid either… He had to make the perfect move!

So he ended up asking Charlie to ask you a bunch of relationship related questions, and ending up deciding on your dream date with your favorite flowers. Basic, but gets the job done right?

BF!Pentious’ love languages are gift giving and physical touch. Like please cuddle him. He’ll get pouty if you don’t notice. So just notice already!!

BF!Pentious, like Charlie, loves making you gifts! He uses his knowledge from war machines to make something homemade and honestly it’s just the sweetest thing!

Is he perfect? Yes. But for this let’s say no. Does he try? Also yes!

Husker

Crush!Husk can’t even remember the last time he had a crush, but he’s chill with it.

Crush!Husk never planned on officially confessing to you, he just was going with the flow, ya know?

You start talking to him and realize maybe you like him too, but it wasn’t thought about much more than that.

It’s not until Angel asks you, “So are ya fucking or no..?”

And it makes you think, no, but you wouldn’t mind if that were arranged.

So one night, while you’re drunk and talking to Crush!Husk, you say… “Y-Ya knOW! We- We should HAHAH get together! HEHEHEH!” “Talk to me when you’re sober, you’re not making a stupid decision, I won’t let ya.”

And somehow, someway, you remembered that in the morning. So with a headache from your hangover, you go up to Husk’s bar and sit down, “What are we?” “Whatever you want us to be.”

From then on, Crush!Husk became BF!Husk!!

BF!Husk always made sure to look out for you. He’s the ‘defend you in public, correct you in private’ kinda guy.

BF!Husk is big on words of affirmation and acts of service.

He won’t hesitate to tell you how much he loves and cares for you whenever you need it, he’s a very honest guy, but he also loves doing little things to show that he cares.

‘Oh, I did the dishes for you.’ or ‘I cleaned your room.’ or ‘I folded your laundry.’ are things you hear daily.

Niffty

Crush!Niffty is another one that’s very obvious, and quite frankly, she doesn’t care.

Crush!Niffty has been open to you about her feelings since day one, and you make sure she knows you feel the same way.

So basically instantly, she becomes GF!Niffty.

GF!Niffty loves physical touch and acts of service.

She loves cleaning for you, and showing you all her accomplishments. But she also loves hugging you, kissing you, just being next to you is enough.

Life isn’t much different versus life with Crush!Niffty but you love it regardless, and you wouldn’t trade either life for anything.

Lucifer Morningstar

Crush!Lucifer doesn’t really have that shock of realizing he likes you, cause he always has and has always known.

You were the one person who was there after Lilith, even if it was only platonic back then, you were still there.

Crush!Lucifer REALLY likes you and considering how long he’s liked you (literal years) he decides to just man up and say it.

Unsurprisingly, you feel the same way and you two start dating.

BF!Lucifer doesn’t want to lose you like how he lost Charlie and Lilith, so he’s very certain that he gives you everything he thinks you derserve.

BF!Lucifer is a big jumble of all the love languages at once because of this. But I think he leans towards physical touch and words of affirmation.

BF!Lucifer is constantly in need of reassurance as he feels like he’s not enough due to his depression, and also hugs, because y’know, hugs help.

If you have a good relationship with Charlie, which you should, like cmon, he’s ecstatic! And sometimes he needs your help with parenting cause he really wants to try his best for you, and her.

Adam

Adam and you started off just fucking for fun, and fucking for fun turned into, friends, friends turned into- woah… it turned into a crush…

Crush!Adam is fucking clueless, he’s not good with this stuff, just guitar solos (FUCK YEAAHH).

During Charlie’s meeting with Heaven, he slips you a note…

Hey hot babe,

wanna do more than just fuck? (date)

And my God, you better accept because THAT is ART.

BF!Adam is far from perfect, but damn close. He really cares. But his main love languages are quality time and physical touch.

I mean cmon, he’s not great with his words, he can’t do much other than fight, he’s ass at giving gifts (he tried to give you a dildo once). So it’s really the only thing he’s good at, he can sit there, and touch you. That’s about all he knows how to do!

At the end of the day, BF!Adam really tries his best, he loves you, after all :)

Lute

Considering the fact you’re Lute’s boss, she spends a lot of time with you.

And because of that, she starts to develop feelings.

Crush!Lute realizes she has a crush on you almost immediately, although she hesitates to tell you, due to how much you guys are together and her job.

But after awhile, she has a bit of a ‘screw it’ moment.

And boom! She turns into GF!Lute.

GF!Lute is a whole new version of the person you had gotten to know. Her wild side comes out, unlike her normal stoic side. (Example: “RIP VAGGIES CUNT MOUTH OUT ‘ER ASS!!!”)

Also side note, GF!Lute is committed as fuckkk. Once she’s there, she’s there for good, cause she loves you!

— END.

Hello! This is my first Hazbin post! I haven’t written for these characters in a solid year so I hope it’s alright! As I said up top, if this gets a lot of love, then I’ll do a part two (Which will include Cherri and the Vees to name a few~) ! Also don’t mind my Lute bias lmao, she’s my fav, she’s so hatable but idgaf and I love her vibe lmao! I’m hyperfixating on Hazbin since the first season just came out lmao! So please send requests! Love ya :)

[starkwlkr]

mum said no | lewis hamilton

an: i love hot ones <3 that’s all

After canceling many times, Lewis finally made his appearance on Hot Ones with Sean Evans. He was a big fan of the show so he was happy to finally get to be a guest. Not only was he a big fan, but so was his eleven year old daughter, Maeve, so naturally she accompanied him to the set.

Maeve Hamilton watched as her dad ate spicy wings and answered questions. When talking about Roscoe, Maeve payed close attention. She loved talking about Roscoe so much.

On the monitor, a picture of Roscoe and Maeve appeared. Maeve was wearing a black Lewis shirt that her mum had bought from an Etsy store while Roscoe licked her face. It was the British Grand Prix and Maeve, along with her sisters, was beyond excited.

“Look, Mavy, that’s you and Roscoe!” Lewis pointed to the screen. “That was taken last year. Do you remember?” Lewis asked his daughter.

Maeve looked at the picture and nodded. “Angela took it!”

“Is your family always at the races?” Sean asked.

“Most of the time during the summer, yeah. It’s always a great time when they’re in the garage, but when it’s school time, they stay home with their mum.” Lewis explained. “They don’t like that at all. But I always tell them education comes first.”

“But I get lots of good grades.” Maeve cut in.

“What’s your favorite subject?” Sean asked the girl.

“I like science.” Replied Maeve.

As the show went on, Maeve was seated next to the camera crew, laughing at her father. He was now taking bigger bites.

“You can do it!” Maeve cheered on.

“Thank you, baby. Love you.” Lewis chuckled and blew a kiss to the girl. “I can always count on my girls to cheer me on.”

“On the topic of family, is it possible that Formula One could get another Hamilton on the track? Or do they want to go into other careers?” Sean asked.

“At one point, they did say they wanted to, but now they’re discovering more careers that they’re interested in. I will support them in whatever choice they make.”

You and Lewis both knew that your daughters would never be Formula one drivers. You both talked about how hard it would be on them. He saw how fans were tough on Mick. He didn’t want his girls to go through that.

The wings got spicier and all Maeve could do was laugh at the faces Lewis was making. He drank milk but that barely helped. Tears were starting to come out his eyes. Maeve noticed and quickly went to her father’s side and used a clean napkin to clean the tears since she didn’t want him using his own hands that were covered in sauce.

“Thank you, baby.” Lewis said as Maeve cleaned up the tears.

“What kind of reaction do you get when somone pulls up alongside of you and then sees that it’s, you know, Lewis Hamilton behind the wheel next to them?” Sean questioned.

“Most people are just like ‘Holy Shit!’ um. . .” Lewis chuckled.

“They’re not revving their engine at you or anything?”

“I’ve had people, yeah traffic light that wanna race yeah.” He nodded. “Definitely when I was young, I felt like yeah. . . smoke this fool.” He laughed.

“This man wanted to race you yesterday!” Maeve spoke up. “Mum said no.”

“I got kids now!” Lewis laughed once again. “I got precious cargo, I can’t be fooling around.”

“And mum said no.” Maeve whispered to him.

“Yup, and mum said no.”

[priniya]

˗ˏ` EMOTIONS! 🍵 ´ˎ˗

pairing. theodore nott x reader

summary. theo never handled his emotions right, and when his girlfriend shows up in a wrong moment, things escalate and theodore doesn’t know how to fix it.

THEO HAS BEEN A TICKING BOMB LATELY and you knew that. it’s been bothering you, but every time you tried talking some senses into him, he brushed it all off, saying something too stupid and reckless for you to hear, so the topic was dropped sooner than it was brought up.

it was one of those times again, when a recurring thought was planted into your brain that you didn’t know your boyfriend like you thought you would. theodore hasn’t been himself lately, which made you worry tons. he’s been smoking much more and getting into fights more often as well as getting into trouble with the teachers, losing the points for your house, which… well, you didn’t care that much about it. what you cared for was theo’s wellbeing.

since it’s been a christmas break, you had gone home to spend time with your family, which meant your contant with theo was limited to a few letters that he was doing somewhat fine, yet you’ve been smart enough to know that spending christmas with his father and grandfather could never make him feel fine, not even a little bit. it was the breaking point in you that you’ve decided it’s the end of brushing you off.

“riddle, berkshire – out.” you barged into the dorm, glaring at your boyfriend’s dormmates, causing the first one to groan in annoyance.

“jesus, can’t be in your own room anymore.” mattheo rolled his eyes at you, yet he knew it was coming, so he dragged his ass up, patting theo’s back. “good luck with that one, nott.” he muttered before leaving the room with lorenzo, who just sent you a sympathetic smile.

theo, on the other hand, just glanced at you for a second, knitting his eyebrows together. “what do you want, l/n?” he asked, his nose still burried in between pages of a book you gave him for christmas.

“oh, last name basis, al–fucking–right.” you grumbled, grabbing the book away from his hands, your body trembling with fury. you hadn’t had a proper conversation in over two weeks, yet he couldn’t bring himself to be a decent man towards you. “what’s going on with you, nott?”

“get off my dick, y/n, really.” he rolled his eyes, expression matching the one his roommate had a few moments earlier. “i don’t have fucking time for this shit.” theo added, clearly agitated.

“well, you want it — you have it, i’m not getting on your dick anytime soon.” your voice was thick with emotion as the mention of celibacy earning you a look. “i know something’s going on. i know that, because i’m your girlfriend and i care about you. just trust–” you started, but the sentence wasn’t meant to be finished, because nott cut you off.

“then don’t. merlin, i don’t need a fucking babysitter, hoovering over my ass all the time. you’re not my bloody therapist, l/n. i don’t fucking need you to stick your nose into my business 24/7.” theodore stood up, his nose almost brushing yours before you took a step back, startled at the sudden outburst. “and sex? don’t amuse me, for merlin’s sake. i could leave the dorm right now and find someone to bone if i wanted to.” his tone was harsh, while his words were like knives thrown at you as a reward for being a caring girlfriend.

your boyfriend looked at his knuckles, his gaze focusing on the ring as he begun to take it off, making your pupils widen. “go. give it to someone who’s gonna be crazy enough to put up with your obsession about emotions. i’m not doing that anymore.” he muttered, pushing the ring into your palm.

“fine.” was the only thing that came to your mind after his words. your body continued to tremble and at this point, you couldn’t have been sure if it was your annoyance or broken heart that he just broke up with you. “just keep your promise and stay away from me. maybe join the death eaters too, for all i care, you’ll fit in perfectly.” with that, you left his dorm, slamming the door behind you as you fought with tears flowing down your cheeks.

“troubles in paradise?” mattheo grinned at you playfully, not noticing your tears-stained face as you were storming through the common room to the exit of the room.

“go fuck yourself, riddle.”

it wasn’t even five minutes later, when mattheo entered his shared dorm, his expression utterly confused as his mind was doing its best to connect the dots. “what’s with that gal of yours?” he asked theo, plopping down onto his bed, lightning up a cigarette right after.

“she’s not my gal anymore.” nott mumbled in response, almost untouched by the entire thing that just happened and that took his best friend by surprise.

“what do you mean she’s not your gal anymore?” he asked, his frown deepening. “lad, don’t tell me she broke up with you, you love this girl to death.” riddle added, scanning his friend’s face for any sign of uneasiness or a clue to understand all of it.

“i broke up with her.” theo replied with a shrug.

“merlin, man, why?” mattheo asked another question, this time being left without an answer as nott shut the curtains of his bed, putting on a silence spell.

IGNORING THEODORE ALL WEEK HAS BEEN EASY as you weren’t in the same year as him. you’ve been grovelling inside about the break-up, but from what your mother had always told you, when you were younger, you remembered that all the teenage boys were shitty and you couldn’t — by any means — let him know how much hurt you were. ignoring him was easy, all because, in your eyes, he didn’t even take any effort to show you remorse for what happened, from what you’ve known, he didn’t even look at you once.

the worst part of loving theodore nott was not being able to brush off all the concerns and worries that lived rent free in your mind, whenever you’ve noticed him walking through the hallways. nevertheless, he didn’t want you to care about him at all, so that was what you were planning on doing. kept your head high and your feet steady on the ground.

what you didn’t know, was that it wasn’t pride that made him keep his eyes away from you, but guilt. from the moment he woke up the day following your argument, his organism was flooded with guilt and shame to the point, where he couldn’t look at himself in the mirror.

he fucked everything up just like his father always told him that he would. he broke the promise he’d made to himself that he wouldn’t drive you away, wouldn’t hurt you like his father hurt his mom, yet he did. you were the only person in his world that made him feel like a normal human being, one, who could love and be loved, but he had to ruin it all, because his pride wouldn’t let him to open up to you.

it’s been already a week since the biggest mistake of his life, as he called it, and theo’s entire body hurt. he was popping pills with blaise like candies, because sobriety and consciousness made everything worse. he couldn’t stop thinking about you — about your expression, when he broke things off with you, the hurt in your eyes and the way you were holding yourself after that.

people, not close enough to you, might’ve been fooled by the facade you’ve built around you, though not theo. he’d known you for years prior to your relationship, he’d seen you both happy and miserable and now? now, you were beyond miserable. you might’ve kept your head high with the biggest smile on your face, but he’s known. he always would — whether you wanted him to or not.

quidditch practices were the worst, all because you were always there, yet never watching him. it wasn’t even up to you to be there and theo was certain of it. you were there, so your best friend wouldn’t have to sit through an entire practice alone, while she watched lorenzo with starstruck expression all the fucking time.

“lad, you have to apologise to her, sort it out.” enzo sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “aoife’s worried about her. ‘m not really surprised, though, she started smoking weed on daily-basis again. aoif’s saying she can’t remember, when she saw her sober for the last time, but it’s better than bawling her eyes out over some asshole, aoif’s words, not mine.” having a friend, who was also somehow close to you and your best friend was a blessing in disguise. lorenzo kept him updated, not leaving out all the insults aoife lynch threw at him for breaking her best friend’s heart.

a loud sigh left theo’s lips as he leaned over the table, his forehead falling onto the wooden surface as he let out a groan. “i don’t even know what to do, enzo.”

“my suggestion? get your shit together.” mattheo chimed in, a playful grin on his face. “i mean it, theo. the gal of yours keeps showing up to my spot and i can’t deal with her tears anymore. get your shit together and fix it.”

“the problem is, matt, i don’t know how.”

the opportunity, although being totally… stupid, occurred at the end of another week during a game with hufflepuffs. theo’s entered another stage of grief and has been going around the school angry at everything. so, when the game came, he was playing rougher than usually, because he needed an outlet to the built-up anger.

of course, you’ve noticed. how couldn’t you? you’ve been keeping an eye on him for the entire two weeks. despite your promise to aoife, you couldn’t let it go. no matter who he was, your boyfriend, a friend, a stranger or an enemy, you couldn’t stop worrying about him and doing your best to look out for him. so… when he was forcefully pushed off his broom by diggory, you were running down the stairs before he even hit the ground. you needed to be beside him or it would kill you.

he was unconcious for almost two more days, making it a sixteen days without hearing his voice and you were going crazy, spending every single second, occupying the tabletop placed next to his bed. his hands in between yours as you kept it close to you. did he deeply pained you with his words? yes. would you let him be alone in the hospital wing? of course not.

“y/n/n.” he whispered suddenly, his voice breaking. “i’m so sorry.” nott let out and you weren’t sure if it was some kind of sleep talking or your delusions leading you on. “i’m so sorry, baby.” he repeated his words with a term of endearment, squeezing your hand weakly.

“theodore…” your words hitched in your throat as you moved the hair aside from his forehead. “don’t think about it now.” you whispered in a coy manner. “it doesn’t matter.”

“i can’t.” he coughed out. “i can’t stop thinking about it. about you. i’ve acted like a dick, but i didn’t mean it. you’re my world, baby, i’m so, so sorry. you were right all this time, i build up my emotions inside of me and let it get the best of me in the worst moment. i’m so sorry i hurt you, i swear i hate myself for—” he continued his rambling, slowly opening his eyes to have a look at you.

“hey, teddy, please, don’t think about it now.” you pleaded, still holding his hand. your thumb caressing his palm. “just rest, okay? please. we’ll talk about once you’re well-rested and out of here.” your voice was gentle.

he shifted in his hospital bed, hissing as his ribcage hurt immensely. “no, cara, please.” he muttered, bringing his lips to your palm. “listen, i can’t get over what i told you. i’m so fucking sorry, baby.” he whispered.

“teddy…” you started, but he cut you off.

“no. i’m sorry i said all those things to you, you didn’t deserve all the shit i gave you.” he let out a sigh, rubbing his forehead. “you need to hit me. for all the pain and suffering. oh god, and the tears. you should just kill me at this point.” theo muttered, and honestly? he did deserve the beating for what he’s done, but the three days of unconsciousness due being knocked off the broom, you could let it go. it could be his fate share of beating.

“just shut up, will you?” you sighed, planting a tender kiss on his lips. “we’re fine.”

[konigsblog]

as my favorite könig smut writer you’re the only one i trust to do dbf!neighbor!könig x early 20s!reader with the dirtiest, sloppiest, most toe curling age gap smut 💗💗

dbf!neighbour!könig?! sign me the fuck up, i could write a whole series for that filthy man!

synopsis; your father's best friend, könig, has been struggling to get himself into a stable, loyal relationship lately. luckily for him, you offer him some sort of release.

tw/cw; age gap/difference, early 20s! reader x late forties!könig, weed use, blowjob, mutual masturbation, PinV, tell me if i missed anything. MDNI 18+ 🍃

photo credits; @ave661

You've had the hots for your father's best friend for quite a while.

He doesn't live very far from you at all. In fact, he lives next door and visits your father pretty often to smoke together and talk about whatever is bothering him, which usually includes topics like König's failed relationships and inability to hold a woman for longer than a week.

Aside from wanting to rant about his horrible, fucked-up love life and to smoke weed with your old man, he wants to see you as well—maybe even more than speak with your father.

When your father is busy doing something else, like washing the dishes or cleaning his car outside, König will excuse himself to the bathroom and will sneak into your bedroom to admire the place. You have plans to move out soon, but currently, you stay with your father inside of your childhood home. König's hand "mysteriously" sneaks into your clothing hamper and begins looking for a pair of panties.

It's alright, you won't notice surely...

And you can't deny your attraction to him. The sound of his familiar, accented voice leaves your knees weak and your panties damp and soaked with the thoughts running through your dirty mind at the moment. You smile at König and talk to him about your plans for college, watching as his eyes flicker from your chest to your eyes, your nipples turning into little stiff buds at the cold breeze in the living room.

Today was like any other saturday; your father was away down the road for some beers with his other friends in the afternoon while König had just arrived home from another fucked-up date, ending like the rest of his dates have. He looks dishevelled and in dire need of some sort of release. He's visibly and clearly pent up and exhausted, rolling himself a joint to relax, leaning against his porch and closing his eyes tightly. He's deep in thought and doesn't realise that you've sneaked up on him, practically jumping out of his skin at your sudden presence.

“Shit, Mäusi— I didn’t see you there... What’s wrong, dear?” He smiles forcefully. He doesn't want to bother you with his shitty life since you're probably all worked up from college and stressed out, but you insist that he tells you what's bothering him. It doesn't take a lot of convincing since it's hard to deny you, especially when you say that you can help him if he explains.

He invites you inside and offers you a joint, in which you gratefully accept and seat yourself beside him, ready to act as a therapist for him.

“Another fucked date with another woman who seems interested in me, but actually isn’t. It seems like I can’t please any women.” He admits through gritted teeth. At the sight of his frustration, you place your hand on his thigh teasingly. “Do you think there is anything I can do to help?” You ask quietly with a mischievous and playful smile plastered on your face. Your voice is seductive and sultry, eyes half-lidded and lustful. God, You really are a tease, huh?

“And what are you hinting at, Liebling?”

König always thought he'd be the one to initiate, but right now, he was struggling to keep his composure and quickly found himself falling for your acts of seduction. You lowered yourself onto your knees and began to unzip his jeans, cocking your head to the side at the sight of his aching cock springing out in your face. You giggled while König pulled his large hands into fists, throwing his head back at the wet sensation of your lips wrapped around his swollen, weeping cock. He'd been dreaming of this moment for months, Liebe.

The things you do to König fucked-up head, Good Lord. He couldn't help the sounds of pleasure running through his lips, his dick painful at your tight grip and pleasure.

His sounds came out pained and guttural, pleased but so on edge and anxious of what your father would think about him after being so touchy-feely with his best friend's daughter. He curses himself out for agreeing to this, feeling like such a pervert despite yearning for more of your addictive, sweet touch. “Feel good?” You question him, knowing he'll get frustrated and will force your head down onto his leaking boner. He huffs and puffs, gripping your hair in a tight fist and pushes your head down with a loud moan leaving his mouth, choking on his groans and grunts.

You coat König's lengthy shaft in your spit to get him slick enough, before seating yourself onto his big lap, your hand stroking and fisting his dick. He slides his fingers into your hole with his eyes wide at the sensation and texture of your gummy walls. He chokes on his pleased sounds as you tease his tip by rolling your soft thumb over his uncut, creamy tip and feel as your folds are stuffed with his thick digits. He pumps them into your soaking cunt and admires the sticky mess left between your fingers, curling his fingers deep inside your gummy cunt.

“C’mere, Taube—Kiss me, please.” He grumbles out, getting obsessive with the pleasure you offer him. He places his lips against yours, making out with you messily and sloppy, the effects of the marijuana leaving him relaxed and at ease with all his concerns and worries forgotten about. His tongue rolls over your bottom lip while you squeeze his dick, whimpering into the sweet kiss. König's fingers begin to pump into you even faster, pulling away to beg you to sit on his cock. You're on edge and shaking pathetically, nearing your orgasm but not quite fully there.

“Sit on it, dear. Don’t be so shy, not now you can’t.” The smell of nicotine sticks to his skin, your thighs shaking as you begin to ease down onto his weeping, veiny dick. König doesn't hold back the sounds of his arousal and euphoria as it burns through his large body, bucking his broad and sturdy hips into your body while cursing you out for being such a dirty tease. You leave König totally obsessed after finally receiving some action after so long.

You bounce on his lap while he fucks his bulbous cock deep into your drooling slit. You gasp and roll your eyes to the back of your head at the ache andd pleasure between your thighs, unable to stop letting out the most perverted and pleased noises. You can feel as König hits your cervix with each thrust and his heavy balls slap against your rear as he drives his hips against your tight rear. Your eyes fill with tears at the pain and stretch, his girthy dick leaving you breathless as you admire the state he leaves your pussy in; raw and sensitive.

König can't hold himself back when you begin to lose control. Sweet, pearly droplets of your sweet arousal run down his boner and coat his length, allowing him to fuck you even harder and deeper with ease as he uses your sweet juices as lube.

“That’s it, little one—God, look how well you’re taking’ me, princess. You’re a mess, such an addictive mess, huh? You’re gonna be an obsession of mine, that’s for sure.” König grits his teeth as he bucks his hips into you even harder, his eyes shut tightly as your walls clamp down around him one last time, filled with ropes of his white creaminess. You pant and heave at the stomach bulge caused by his loads and ropes of his hot release. You grip his jaw to make out with him, your body sweaty and hot with König's cheeks flushed a rosy pink.

You have to sneak back home before your father comes back and asks what you were doing over at his best friend's house. König would be slaughtered if he found out the truth.

You just have to act all innocent, as if König's milky and potent load is oozing out of your hole and dampening your panties at the dinner table.

[limpwristssavelives]

There was also this episode on the WTF with Marc Maron Podcast (roughly 1:03:00-1:05:00) posted 11/20/23 where he (indirectly) says this about palestine

I couldn’t reblog with the clip but i posted it here and also the transcript of what was said below

Marc: “I think a lot of times what you know is relative to your personal history. And then the rest is sort of like, you know, you pick and choose. Or somebody contextualizes something.”

Taika: “That is interesting because like, you know, especially like, I have no idea what this is, but like, around the world there’s this idea that like you must know about everything. You must have a comment. You must have an opinion and know about every single thing going on. And I’m like, okay, how many of you know about the things the Māori have gone through in New Zealand? How many of you know about, you know, the land wars in the 1800s and what we went through? How many of you know that it was illegal to speak our language in school? How many of you know about what we lost? No one.”

Marc: “Of course not.”

Taika: “But you’re expected to jump on someone's side, you know, whenever something's on Instagram or when something's like, you know, you need to be on the-”

Marc: “Right, when the global culture decides, when the momentum picks it, when the algorithm that dictates what we're supposed to know is important, decides collectively what is important and all of a sudden everyone's up in arms. I live in, this is an Armenian neighborhood and they've gone through horrendous history. I'm not real clear on it, but I respect the fact that like, all right, something bad happened.”

Taika: Yeah. Asking minorities to care about other minorities is, yeah, we should, but it's just a funny thing where it's like, You know, I understand a little bit like why some minorities. They go. Oh, okay. You're making a big deal about that. What about us?”

broke: criticizing taika for supporting israel or getting guz fired or being an absent father or [insert other thing there's no evidence of].

woke: criticizing him for executive producing the show that's been melting my brain for two years.

bespoke: criticizing him specifically for suggesting "this woman's work" for the soundtrack and thus making me cry every time i think about that scene.

[firecrackerhh]

Honestly the fact this fandom is so fucking gatekeepy is so fucking ironic. Like you would think a fandom for a show about redemption would be more willing to give people second chances, but I’ve seen Hazbin Twitter, some of you bitches take no fucking prisoners.

Like rules for thee but not for me. It’s fine if let’s say, a big hazbin account or Viv herself drew controversial/proship shit years ago or whatever, that’s totally fucking acceptable, but if anyone in the fandom draws that shit in the present day everyone acts like they committed fucking homicide.

I wonder, if Viv drew problematic shit like that in the present day, how many fans would defend her? Or would they drop her like a hot iron?

Hell, it seems the big hazbin accounts in general are allowed to be the most rancid toxic cunts in the fucking universe against others they don’t like, but god forbid a smaller account has shit to say about it or the bigger accounts fucking feel the need to quote tweet it opening them up to harassment.

I think if anything, this fandom should be gatekeeping against antis in any form, whether it come from a big account or not. I guess some people just refuse to see the irony.

Like don’t act like you’re somehow better than the anti Viv people when you do the same fucking shit they do. Just because you just so happen to like Viv’s stuff doesn’t make it acceptable to treat other fans like shit over stupid shit.

A show about redemption shouldn’t be having fans so willing to throw others under the bus for the tiniest shit. Hazbin Twitter is so full of shit.

Never mind the fucking ship discourse in general, Jesus Christ, does anyone in this fandom actually have any fun, or do they just want excuses to be fucking bullies towards people they deem acceptable to harass, because honestly some people on Hazbin Twitter make me fucking sick. Hypocrites and bullies the lot of them.

Makes me wonder how many fans were insecure fucking losers in high school and now they wanna act like Regina fucking George over objectively retarded online discourse. For the love of god please touch grass.

Never mind the fact that so many people in this fandom insist on engaging with Viv antis as if arguing with these fucking glue eaters is in any way going to change their mind. Why argue with these people when it’s obvious they have no intention of doing so? Why do people insist on continuing to talk about certain Viv antis, practically fucking stalking them, making them no better than the antis they bitch about? Do they not see the hypocrisy? Do they not care?

Just saying, cataloging every single little thing a Viv anti does is fucking weird dude. Even if they’re talking shit about you, why would you continue to voluntarily keep looking at their shit?

Like I know I’m probably the pot calling the kettle black here, but man, at least when I respond to an antis takes on my blog I leave it at that. I don’t usually feel the need to be like “here’s everything else wrong they’ve ever said!” In some huge ass thread. I don’t make specific blogs calling out any anti in particular or some shit. I don’t make a fucking google doc accusing them of shit that they didn’t do, or at least, I don’t act like the person being a freak towards me is actually capable of doing anything.

Like yes Chai is annoying, but screaming about a fly in your house won’t make it fucking leave. You don’t get rid of a scab by fucking touching it, if you give a child attention when they have a fucking tantrum, they will start to think that’s the only way they can get attention from you and do it more.

And honestly, pardon the hot take here, but constantly fucking accusing someone of being into actual children or animals just cuz they like loli or feral animal nsfw is fucking retarded.

Is it fucking weird? Frankly, yeah, imo. But is any of it real? Are they harming an actual person? Are they grooming children? Are they hurting any actual animals? If you have no actual evidence for either, then I’m sorry, maybe you should just shut the fuck up. It’s fine to be uncomfy about that shit, but accusing people of such things with no evidence beyond drawings honestly sounds fucking offensive to people who’ve suffered actual fucking abuse.

I don’t deny that there are those who use the proship label to hide their awful behavior or whatever, but man, antis are no fucking better. Do you have any idea how many stories I’ve seen of conservatives who bitch about the gays grooming children when they are also the same kinds of people who think child brides are acceptable in the modern era? Who cry about protecting children when they have little issue in abusing them, but they think it’s ok when they do it?

I say conservative and not antis cus as far as I’m concerned there’s no real difference between the two.

If you seriously believe that fiction affects reality that directly, if you really believe the same arguments as the “video games causes violence!” Type of conservatives, I’m just going to assume that something is wrong with you, that you are terribly emotionally immature, that you are just fucking projecting, cuz I’m sorry, but not everyone is as fucking stupid as you.

Frankly I wonder if there are studies on this shit, cognitive dissonance is an astounding phenomenon. It’s something antis are full of.

…damnit I gotta stop going on tangents lmao.

I just…Jesus Christ man, why is everyone in this fandom such an insufferable fucking jackass? Why is this fandom full of bullies? Why is everyone here such an insecure whiny fucking baby? Viv can’t even fucking make fat jokes or people complain, shit, I saw someone bitch about how Lucifer calling sinners psychopaths is fucking insensitive to people with ASPD, like cmon man by that logic you can say Alastor’s existence as a character is fucking offensive, should Alastor not exist then? They changed Alastor’s symbols to something else but some people still think it’s offensive, Mimzy being annoying to the other characters is apparently offensive towards fat people, as if her weight has anything to do with her personality.

I just don’t understand how a fandom based on a show about hell could be so fucking whiny, so goddamn insecure, so fucking sensitive, what the fuck are you people doing here!?!?! Frankly maybe we should be gatekeeping against whiny little fucking babies like you.

Just…fuck am I tired.

Sometimes I feel like I’m the only sane person in this fucking fandom. Tho if there are people who still like my posts, I guess I can’t be. Thank fuck for that I suppose.

Lmao I’m sorry for the tangents I’m just incapable of staying on topic, if you think this shit is hard to read, imagine what it’s like in my fucking head at all fucking times.

🔥🧨~Firecracker out~🔥🧨

[emchante]

softcore siren | m. verstappen

warnings: 18+/ suggestive — minors dni.

softcore porn streamer max has been in my mind all day for some reason, so i wanted to get this little thing out for me + @thef1diary seeing as she was so onboard with it too. definitely want to delve into this more!! drop into my inbox and hit me with your thoughts on this! <3

softcore porn streamer! max verstappen is a man you accidentally stumble across one day when scrolling through the ‘just chatting’ category. the thumbnail for the stream is a still image of max in a shirt that fits his chest snuggly, strong arms bulging slightly as he has his arms crossed at his front.

he’s an attractive man— you can’t deny that— so you decide fuck it, and click onto the stream.

as soon as the stream and chat loads, you’re hit with a mix of of thirsting messages in the side bar, and max’s low, accented voice as he spoke to everyone. he isn’t talking about anything specific, just chatting away and answering any questions he can see in the flurry of horny messages.

suddenly he lets out a warm laugh, and it’s unexpectedly charming. “alright, alright,” he rolls his eyes playfully, “i see your messages. i see what you’re here for, calm down. we’ll get to it,” he winks, leaning right to the camera momentarily as he shifts himself upwards to sit in a more comfortable position. the eye contact through the screen causes a breath to catch in your throat.

as max sits back he stretches right up, allowing his shirt to ride up and give the viewers a sliver of stomach. you couldn’t deny your eyes scanned the area the full time it was on screen, silently begging it to go even further. then, max moved his hands behind his head, allowing his arms to flex with his muscles bulging through the-short sleeved shirt. his softer chest area became more defined as the shirt tugged against it, until he allowed his arms to fall to his side.

he topped it all off with what could only be described as a soft moan, his eyes fluttered shut and his freckled lip curving into a smile.

your eyes drifted to his chat once more, watching the flood of messages be sent in as max teased his body, adding a moan at the end of his little show. some people were begging him to flex his arms again, for him to go shirtless, whereas others took a more meme-like approach. ‘do you need a bra for them?’, for example.

you wanted to join in on the fun, so you did. you didn’t say anything extreme, more-so joining the thirsty comments but keeping your own tame. a simple ‘god, you’re so fine?’, allowing it to get buried within the pile.

but it didn’t.

your eyes widened as your chat was highlighted with ‘first time chatter’, and fuck— since when was that a thing?

max seems to catch sight, raising a brow as he catches your comment and the fact you’re new. “oh? we have a new chatter, guys. welcome in,” he smiles, looking to the camera and winking. “appreciate the compliment.”

your breath caught in your throat at him reacting to your message and greeting you, that you didn’t even catch the amount of welcomes you got from his regulars. there were even a few ‘she’s so lucky??’ from others.

max grins before leaning back in his chair, his crossed arms resting over his front again. this time though he was pushed back a little more, allowing him to lift his foot onto his chair as he perched into a position where his thighs were in shot. and shit— you were not expecting that.

his grin only widened as the chat had another outburst about him, commenting about his thighs and what they wanted to do to them. though he was reading them, he had ignored them and went back to what the previous topic. “aww, no other message from newbie?” he fake pouted, before peering right into the camera lens once more. “don’t worry though, everyone starts out shy, confused. you’ll figure out soon enough why you’re here.”

and the thing is— he’s right. you do find out why you’re here.

you stay on the stream much longer than you had intended to, watxhing as he balances humour, flirtation, and just the right amount of teasing and mischief. you realise his fans aren’t just obsessed with his looks— they’re drawn to the way he makes everyone feel seen, chats to them like he would any other person.

by the end of the stream, you’re still not entirely sure how you got sucked into max verstappen— the softcore porn streamer on twitch’s front page. but as you close the tab for the night, your cheeks are hot and there’s a lingering smile on your face.

one things for certain: this wouldn’t be the last time.

⋆˙⟡ enjoy this? i hope you did! please come chat to me about it in my ask box! publicly or on anon— i’ll answer everything <3

[phant0mth1ef]

now i’m in exile seeing you out. pt. 3

-

you didn’t show up to the spot bakugou had wanted you to meet him at, although you had made it to the city, but the moment you actually saw him sitting inside with a cup of hot chocolate, his large hands covering both sides of the mug as he stared into it.

the girls from ua highschool had befriended you during the licensing exam, seeking you out in the anteroom after you’d saved them from shindo at the start, shooting pieces of terrain up to catch them so they wouldn’t hit the earth as hard before you’d ran off to go deal with the source of the vibrations.

since then, you’d all grown much closer to each other, and they started inviting you over to their dorm so that you could all hang out and gossip, of course, they didn’t know about your history with their resident class hothead.

“what about you, y/n? have you got a boyfriend back at shiketsu? we heard that bald boy saying someone liked you at the exam!” hagakure may have been invisible, but that doesn’t mean she missed anything when she was at the exam.

“sorry to disappoint, but no, shiketsu has a no fraternizing policy. i can’t even go to inasa or shishikura’s dorm.” you spoke with a small smile on your face as the girls groaned, itching for some romance.

almost as if on cue, the fridge in the kitchen shut to reveal a blonde boy in a skull t-shirt, grabbing a variety of different vegetables and a cutting baord before the quiet sounds of chopping were heard in the next room.

“it sucks that bakugou’s so mean! he’s hot.” once again, hagakure chose to speak up silently as the other girls quietly agreed, even you nodded.

“say, y/n. why don’t we set you up with someone in our class?” mina had a naturally loud voice, so bakugou couldn’t help but raise his head up once he caught a portion of your conversation.

“no thank you. i’m not really looking for anyone at the moment.” he could almost picture the embarassed smile on your features, afraid to admit to them that you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet.

“come onn, i’m sure you’d be great with someone like todoroki or iida.” his knuckles were beginning to turn white as he almost cut himself with the knife, no way was half n’ half getting to you before he did.

when he start thinking sappy shit like that?

“they’re both really nice and sweet, but honestly i’m not really looking for anyone.” the blush on your face just grew redder, exposing your true feelings to the girls as they all shared a knowing grin with one another.

the topic was eventually dropped and you all begun to watch a movie, the silent sounds of someone rummaging around the kitchen were accompanying the sounds coming from the tv screen.

halfway through, a head was popped through the doorway.

“dinner’s ready! get it while it’s hot. or don’t. i don’t care.” you’d never really seen this side of katsuki before, the side that’s always angry at the world no matter what.

you were used to the katsuki that would calmly tell you about his day as you both either studied or did homework, the katsuki that would hold doors open for you, the katsuki that would always prioritize your safety over his.

the girls quickly pulled you into the kitchen, much to your dismay as you tried to tell them that it was okay and you really should’ve been going by now.

“this all looks so yummy! what’re you gonna get, y/n?” uraraka turned to you with a bowl in her hand as you politely waved the bowl away.

“oh no thank you, i’m not hungry right now.” you were hungry. matter of fact you hadn’t eaten all day, but you weren’t trying to overstay your welcome, nor were you trying to stay in the same place as bakugou for too long.

you could feel his eyes glaring daggers into the back of your head, almost as if he was trying to telepathically talk to you.

“you need to eat, dumbass.”

it was like his voice kept playing on repeat in your mind ever since the day you and him had talked at the training session. or well since the day you talked and he just stood frozen like a statue.

“i should get going now before it gets too dark. thank you for inviting me over!” you spoke hurriedly as you quickly left to grab your shoes and leave, a part of your excuse was true, it was getting dark.

“you forgot this!” you froze in your spot where you stood just outside of the ua dorm building, what could you have possibly forgotten?

bakugou stood there, a small smile on his face as his whole body relaxed, he knew he could be himself around you. even if you were currently mad at him.

he held out your sweater.

“seriously? that’s what you have to say to me? keep the damn sweater.” you scoffed before quickly turning on your heels, walking away as he stood there holding the bundle of polyester in his hands.

the next time you’d hung out with the girls from ua, you had invited them over to your dorm for a change, although you didn’t have a common room, so you were all forced to huddle together in your room which thankfully was not small and had sufficient space.

the girls took a few minutes to glance at things, rummaging through your drawers to see what your style was, looking at the books you had, and it seemed as if they all stopped once they’d seen a photo frame hidden behind a few stacks of paper.

the most ill-tempered guy they knew was smiling, a genuine smile as he held up a peace sign with one arm around you, your expression mirroring his face.

they chose to ignore it, because to be fair, if you wanted them to know that you and bakugou were friends, you would’ve told them.

asui was a bit oblivious though, and rather blunt so when she spoke up, you tried to not take any offense.

“you know bakugou?” the rest of the girls looked at her, almost if they were trying to tell her to shut up.

“yes. we grew up together.” you smiled, although you weren’t really feeling like talking about how you don’t talk anymore.

“do you still talk?” and there was the winning question.

you sighed and explained to them what had happened between you both, opting to just tell them because the truth would come out soon anyway.

“and he hasn’t apologized??” momo was the first to start talking again.

“no. and i don’t know what to do because if i reach out now it’s basically telling him that it doesn’t matter what he does and that i’ll just automatically forgive him.”

mina was on her phone, simultaneously texting kirishima about what was happening as he did the same.

“okay wait, so if he had like wanted to apologize, would you listen?” mina got serious out of nowhere, stuffing her phone into her back pocket.

“i mean he tried to talk with me a week ago, but i couldn’t like do that yet, like emotionally.” they just nodded as you sat in silence for a bit.

“i think i’m ready to try and forgive him now. i hope i’m ready. i miss him.”

once they’d gone home and you’d gotten ready for bed, you laid down to begin your mindless scrolls through social media, not realizing the hour it was.

[2:42 AM]

[kats💥🫂] you awake?

[you] what

[kats💥🫂] i want to talk. like an actual conversation where we sit down and talk like adults.

normally you wouldn’t give him the time of day, but the boy was usually lights out by 8:30 pm everyday, so you decided to hear him out.

[you] okay. when?

[kats💥🫂] tomorrow? please. um we’re sort of training till 6 pm-ish. can you stop by the dorms?

[you] ok.

tags: @itgetzweird08 @ch3rryjampi3 @riverozada @lechilankikyou-blog @lupitalove

[misctf]

Exploring the Tribes

“Dude! Way too much info.” Jeff made a face of disgust and took another swig of his beer, “I’m all for “love is love”, but I don’t wanna hear about your uhhh...”

“Look dude, it’s about time I get to brag. I’ve nearly fucked all the tribes on Grindr. On this vacation alone, bro.” Connor replied, “You and the rest of the guys get to brag about all the pussy you get, why can’t I...?”

“Damn I don’t know man. It’s just...” Jeff adjusted his cap and chugged the rest of his beer, “We’re on vacation with the rest of the bros. Of course we’re gonna talk about our scores.” Jeff smirked- with a body like his, he was scoring well, “I don’t doubt you’re getting plenty of dick. I just don’t want to hear about it.”

“Yeah, and I didn’t want to hear about that time you banged my sister, but here we are.”

Jeff smirked as he recounted the memory, “She has a great rack...” Connor punched his arm, “Fair I deserved that.”

“And I’m a top. I don’t take dick.”

“Whatever dude, can’t you just enjoy the beer?” Jeff sighed, “Besides, what the fuck is a tribe anyway?”

Connor chuckled, “Shit, I forget we make it complicated. It’s a way to describe gay guys. Well, at least their looks.” Jeff nodded, his mind drifting elsewhere, “Like, a bear is a hairy heavyset guy. A twink is usually more feminine and hairless. Like you.”

“Fuck off dude. Girls like it when my muscles are clean shaven.” Jeff shot back.

“Joking, you’re too muscular to be a twink.” Connor replied, “But dude, stay on topic. I’m so close to having fucked a guy in each tribe on this trip. Like just a few more. But I’ve had a really hard time finding an otter.”

Jeff chuckled, “That some kinda weird animal shit?”

“No, otters are like bears, but a lot skinnier.” Connor replied.

“And you want to hook up with one of these guys?” Jeff raised an eyebrow, “Skinny and hairy. What kinda guy would want that?” He flexed one of his biceps and grinned.  

“Well yeah, gotta complete the quest.” Connor shrugged, “But I haven’t come across one since we’ve been here.”

“Oh yeah?” Jeff chuckled, “I have a deal for you. If I find you an otter, you gotta stop talking to me about this shit for the rest of the trip.”

Connor laughed, “Yeah, okay bro.”

“No seriously. I’m a great wingman! Remember Chet and that sorority girl with the slutty tattoo? That was all me, bro.”

“Alright dude. I’ll play.” Connor chuckled, “And how are you going to find this otter?”

Jeff shrugged, “Hairy and slim. Fuck dude, I’ll find ‘em in no time.”

Connor smirked and slapped his friend on the back, “Well I appreciate it, dude. But I think I’ve already found one.”

“No fucking way man, where?” Jeff asked, looking around the bar.

“You can’t miss him. He’s pretty slim.”

Jeff continued to look around, barely noticing as his muscles started to deflate. It started in his legs- his well sculpted calves becoming thin and petite. He inadvertently put a hand on his abs as he felt his muscle twist and contract, just before they deflated, leaving his toned abdomen flat. Connor smirked as he watched Jeff’s pecs follow suit- the muscle behind them atrophying at an alarming rate.  

“I’ll miss those.” Connor chuckled.

“What was the dude?”

“Nothing man.” Connor watched as Jeff seemed to shorten as his back muscles shrunk into nothingness, “You haven’t noticed him yet?” He watched as Jeff’s muscular arms thinned out- years of training at the gym gone within just a few minutes.

“No I haven’t.” Jeff chuckled, “You sure you’re not seeing things, bro?”

“No, he’ right there.” Connor insisted.

Jeff’s eyes narrowed and he stood up to try and get a better view. But he wasn’t used to his new frame and nearly fell over as he tried to balance himself, “Fuck dude, I need to lay off the drinks.” Jeff looked at his skinnier arms, staring at them closely. Connor sipped his drink, watching Jeff trying to make sense of it, “Shit... dude... I...I look small?”

“No way, I think you look perfect the way you are.” Connor said, guiding Jeff back to his chair. Jeff blushed at his friend’s touch.

“Sh-shit dude.” Jeff shook his head, “I uh...” Something was wrong. He knew he wasn’t this skinny. As he looked closer at himself, he felt he was missing something. His pecs, his arms, his abs, “Fuck Connor, dude something is...”

“Dude stop distracting me! I’m trying to find that otter I was telling you about.” Connor smirked, “He has to be one of the hairiest guys I’ve seen.”

Jeff felt nauseous. With a grunt, he felt his skin come alive. It burned, only to be replaced by an itchiness that seemed to originate from each follicle of his clean-shaven skin. Relief came suddenly, but was short-lived. He watched with terrified eyes as hair emerged from the top of his bathing suit and traveled up his abdomen. The dark brown hair sprouting from his skin was curly and thick, moreso than anything he ever grew naturally. And as it climbed up his abdomen, thickening rapidly, it finally reached his pecs where it spread like wildfire.

“Ahhhhh.” Jeff moaned as he felt the hair climb around his ass and move up his back. Simultaneously, Jeff raised his hand to feel the thick beard forming along his face, “Connor, what the fuck?” He breathed out, sweat washing over his body and dampening his new fur. Connor grinned, yanking a clump of Jeff’s new arm hair.

“Dude, what’s the matter? You’re distracting me.” Connor complained, “Damn, if only you could see this otter now.” Jeff tensed as Connor rubbed a hand through the dense forest on his chest, “What did you say about guys who wear earrings?” Jeff winced in pain as his ears were stretched and two gauges embedded into his ear lobes, “Oh and remember that sorority girl? What did you say about her tattoos again?” Jeff winced again as tattoos carved themselves into his arms and legs, “And shit, what kinda guy would wear a speedo like that?” Jeff looked down at the yellow speedo that now barely covered his junk and hairy ass, “Oh right- according to you, those things would make someone gay and slutty, right?” Jeff’s eyes widened, “So I guess this otter I’m seeing must be a massive gay slut.”

“Wait! Connor! Please...” Jeff’s mouth went slack and his eyes widened as his brain was rewritten. His love for tits quickly vanished- replaced by a love for a man’s touch and dick, “Please... I...” Jeff winced as he remembered the best way to suck a man’s cock. A strategy that always got his hookup to cum, “I’m not...” His gym routine vanished from his brain. Cardio and squats. All to help keep his ass as fuckable as possible, “Connor...” Jeff felt himself fall forward, and for brief moment everything went dark. But when he opened his eyes, he found himself being supported by the strong arm of the man sitting across from him.

“Yo, you good?” Jeff looked up at the muscular man in front of him and grinned.

“All good hun!” Jeff giggled, tracing his hand along the man’s muscular arm. Fuck, how’d he get so lucky to find this stud?, “But I think I should lie down for bit.”

“I have a place in mind.” The man said with a grin.

“Oh yeah big guy?” Jeff leaned in and placed a hand against the man’s pec, “I need you to take me there. Right now.” He breathed. The man grinned and the two left the bar, walking quickly back to the man’s room, “My name is Jeffrey by the way.”

“Connor.” Connor replied, as the two entered the bedroom.

Jeffrey grinned as Connor threw him onto the bed. Clothes were quickly discarded. And soon, moans filled the empty room.

______________________________________________________________

Jeff groaned as he pushed himself out of bed, ‘Fuck,’ he thought, seeing the time on his phone, ‘I must’ve gotten wasted.’

His whole body ached, especially his ass. Probably fell on it while he was drunk, he figured. He wobbled to the bathroom and stared in the mirror- taking in his muscular frame and clean-shaven form. He smirked- even feeling like shit he still had his looks. He opened his phone to take a pic and cringed.

“What the fuck?” He whispered, “Who the fuck is that?” He stared at the newest saved picture in his phone. A hairy, slim man, “An otter...” He whispered.

There was a sudden knock at his door and he groaned. Shuffling over, he opened it to find Connor.

“Dude what’s up?” Connor chuckled, “Quite the night last night.”

 “Yeah, really? Fuck dude, I drank way too much. Check this out.” He showed Connor the picture, causing his friend to laugh, “I don’t know how it got on here.”

“You don’t remember?” Connor laughed, “Before you left, we took a whole bunch of selfies.”

Jeff groaned, “Hope he didn’t think I’d be into that.” He chuckled, “Shoot your shot, I guess.” He deleted the photo, “So I take it the night was successful?”  

Connor smirked, “Oh it was.” He winked. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing him again soon. He was begging for more.”

“Gross dude.” Jeff chuckled, “So is that it? Done with the quest?”

“Close dude, very close. Just a few more tribes left.” Connor grinned. Jeff felt a shiver run down his spine. He looked at Connor, a feeling of fear and excitement welling up from within the deepest part of his psyche, “So, wanna grab a drink?”

Jeff shrugged, “Sure, dude.”  

[romana-after-dark]

Our Gentle Sins Masterlist

Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Summary: Told in a combination between present day and flashbacks, you and Logan are friends with a budding forbidden romance at the School for Extraordinary Youngsters. You are the only human teacher, and Logan the rambling man who comes and goes as he pleases.

Despite being told to stay away from you by those around him, Logan can’t fall for you, can’t help but need you, need you, need you… until he simply takes it. His violation leaves you pregnant, and you navigate a Logan you don’t recognize anymore, flashbacks reveals the past of how we all got here.

Warnings: like ao3’s “writer chose not to archive warnings” by clicking read more you are consenting to reading what comes and that you are 18. You have been told this is a dark story involves non con and pregancy, any other triggering topics are liable to be discussed. I won’t be tagging twists bc that’s stupid and idk how the Pedro fandom actually decided that was a thing people should do??

Immersion: reader is shorter and smaller than Logan.

Undetermined number of chapters right now

Comment to be tagged, follow @romana-updates or join my tumblr community.

Chapter 1: Logan takes you.

Chapter 2: grocery trip

Chapter 3: Opening up

Chapter 4: Trying new things

Chapter 5: Sickness opens you up to Logan

Chapter 6: Scott and Kurt make their appearance

Chapter 7: Nightmares

Chapter 8: Dancing

Chapter 9: it’s complicated

Chapter 10: No one listens to Scott

I’m ass at making headers and shit so if anyone enjoys this and makes a better header I’ll use it and credit you ofc 😂😂😂

[clockwayswrites]

Minx Part 2

Minx is a placeholder name, maybe Part 1, Masterpost CW: references to drug use, allusions to past torture, grabbing

Jason had to suck in several careful breaths as he took in the wound splashed across Danny’s ribs. “No fucking John did that to you and if they did—” if they took some sort of hot poker to Danny’s side— “I’ll kill them if they did.”

Danny blinked up at the ceiling, avoiding Jason’s gaze. “So the John thing may be a cover story?”

“Fuck’n—” Jason clenched and unclenched his hands, trying to work out the urge to punch someone. It wouldn’t do any good with no target to punch. Jason had kept an eye on Danny, best as he could without being invasive, and the other seemed clean of Gotham’s shit. “What are you messed up in Danny? Is it someone’s business? Did you see something you shouldn’t on the job? Hear something?”

“No— I mean, yeah I’ve heard things, but nothing to do with this. This is,” Danny’s hand moved to cover up the mark, as if hiding it would make the problem go away. “This is just some shit from my past catching up with me. It’s nothing you need to worry about, Boss, it’s not Gotham business.”

Jason held back a growl, pushed it back into his chest. “Did it happen in Gotham?”

“No, it happened down in sunny Florida— of course it happened in Gotham.”

“Then it’s fucking Gotham business.”

“Yeah, fuck it is, you stay away from it,” Danny snapped with a smile like a bear trap. He got up and grabbed his shirt with a waver. “Dealt with it anyway. It’s done and—”

Danny froze as Jason reached out to grab his arm.

“Danny—”

“You let go of me, Hood. I don’t care who the fuck you are, you do not grab me like this. No one grabs me like this.”

Jason slowly, carefully, lowered his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to fall over but I shouldn’t have stopped you like that.”

“You fuck’n shouldn’t have.”

“I shouldn’t have,” Jason soothed. He wasn’t good at soothing, not any more, but he would try if it would stop Danny walking out of there injured like that. “Just sit back down and let me treat the wound. I’ll stop asking questions.”

Danny sized him up, eyes sharp with the perfect winged liner. Then he sighed and sat back down.

“Thank you,” Jason murmured as he rummaged around in the well stocked first aid kit for something to treat burn wounds. “How bad is the pain.”

Danny shrugged. He had his chin on his hand and was purposefully not looking at Jason.

Guess he was still in the dog house then.

“This will help the topical pain, but I know burns hurt deep. I’d like to give you something. Have you been drinking tonight?”

“You found me outside a pub,” Danny answered dryly.

“Doesn’t mean you were drinking, Danny, I know you know how to fake it.”

Danny sighed and tilted his head to glance up at Jason. He looked tired now, like the glamor had finally worn off with the stroke of midnight.

“Yeah, I was drinking. Helps with the pain and I knew I could take those shits drunk off my fake tits.”

“Bet you could,” Jason said, allowing himself a little smirk behind his helmet. He’s seen Danny play pool before and it was a thing of wounder. “Okay, we’ll do an IV then, rehydrate you and get some pain medication in your system in one go.”

“IV?” Danny repeated, his voice small.

“It won’t hurt, I can put them in smoothly,” Jason said as he started to work on treating the wound.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re real gently like,” there was a wobble under Danny’s bravado and twang, “but I’m not much fond of needles.”

“I’ll be here. I won’t leave you alone with it in.”

Danny snorted. “Yeah, gonna hold me the whole night so I don’t panic?”

“If that’s what will help,” Jason answered without hesitation. He could feel Danny watching him, judging him for that statement, but Jason just kept carefully working on the wound.

“Don’t be stupid, you can’t wear your helmet the whole night,” Danny said as if that would be the catch.

“Then I’ll take it off before I hold you the whole night so that you don’t panic.”

“Will you?”

“Said I would, didn’t I?”

Jason smoothed on the last of the gel.

“Yeah… okay,” Danny said with a tired sigh. “Okay, let’s try the IV.”

-

Jason sat with his back against the arm of the couch and the pillow propped there. One leg was against the back cushion and the other on the ground still. Danny, make-up washed off and dressed in a set Tim sized sweats, was tucked back against Jason’s chest.

It was easier to sit that way than take Danny staring at his face covered only in a domino and black hair spray on the white streak.

Jason gently ran an alcohol wipe over the inside of Danny’s arm.

And froze.

“Not what you think.” Danny’s voice sounded small and far away. “Hood, breathe.”

Jason sucked an unsteady breath. “What?”

“I said it’s not what you think. I’m not using. I was… sickly, when I was a teen. It’s— that’s why I don’t like IVs and needles and stuff.”

“Promise?”

“And cross my heart,” Danny said, going through the motion. “Girl Scout’s honor.”

Jason barked out a laugh that was still a little too sharp. “Yeah and I was a Boy Scout.”

“I don’t you, you do a lot of community service,” Danny said, draping his head back over Jason’s shoulder.

“Yeah, well, I work with different birds than eagles.”

Danny’s nose scrunched up.

Jason liked it better when he could see Danny’s pale freckles.

“Eagle Scouts are the highest level of Boy Scouts,” Jason explained.

“Why the fuck do you even know that?”

“I know a lot of shit,” Jason said.

Danny flinched at the pinch of the needle, but Jason had a good grip on Danny’s arm and was able to get the IV in fully. Jason soothed his thumb over it after he taped the IV down.

“There you are.”

“Don’t leave.”

“I won’t,” Jason promised. “I’m right here.”