#like yeah it's barely more than a room but it's MY barely more than a room lol
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reilemon · 1 day ago
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🌹Surrender❄️
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♡︎ synopsis: Sylus and Zayne show you that you can't get away with lying.
♡︎ pairing: Sylus x fem!reader x Zayne
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♡︎ tags: barely any plot, mfm dynamic, oral (both male and female receiving), orgasm denial, dvp
♡︎ word count: 5.5k
♡︎ a/n: this fic is part of the Secret Santa Fic Exchange event made by @nanamiscocksleeve and I wrote for @laddelulu30 . It was challenging ngl, but I had fun and I hope you'll like it!
♡︎ Thank you to my dearest friend and my beta reader♡︎@its-de♡︎ for helping. divider by @anitalenia
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The car hums softly, the tension inside it palpable. Zayne’s hands grip the wheel, his hazel green eyes fixed on the road ahead, occasionally glancing into the rearview mirror. In the back seat, Sylus sits with his arms crossed over his broad chest. You sit beside him, looking out the window, twisting the damp hem of your shirt as you can feel Sylus’ glare on you.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Zayne’s calm voice breaks the silence.
You hesitate, your gaze dropping to your lap. “It wasn’t planned,” you mumble. “My friend called last minute... I didn’t think it’d be a big deal.”
Sylus shifts beside you, leaning closer. “You didn’t think lying about being at a coffee shop might be a big deal? Or leaving your location on so I’d find out anyway?”
You stiffen, guilt tightening your throat. “I thought both of you were busy and it was just easier that way.”
Sylus scoffs. “Easier? For who? You, sneaking out? Or us, finding out you’re not in your apartment like we thought?”
“Sylus,” Zayne interjects, his eyes flick to the mirror, catching yours. “This isn’t about the coffee shop, or even going out. It’s about trust. We can’t keep you safe if we don’t know where you are.”
The word trust stings more than Sylus’ sharper tone. Your fingers clench tighter around your sleeve, twisting the fabric until it wrinkles under your grip. “I wasn’t trying to hide anything,” you say with a lump in your throat. “My friend needed me tonight. She just got out of a bad relationship, and wanted to go out.”
Sylus presses further. “And when it got dangerous? What then? You knew enough to text me—why not just tell me the truth from the start?”
Zayne’s grip on the wheel tightens. “Do you know what went through my head when Sylus told me you weren’t home?” he asks, his voice quieter now. “When I saw where you were? You’re lucky we got there in time.”
Your throat tightens, and you glance out the window as you mumble, “I didn’t think it’d turn into such a mess.”
Zayne exhales slowly, and you can see Sylus in the corner of your eye shaking his head. You know you’re in the wrong and that you made a few stupid decisions tonight, but your pride is not letting you admit it.
The car slows to a stop at a drive-thru, and you hear Sylus grumbling under his breath.
“This place again?”
You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips when you catch Zayne roll his eyes before answering. “Yes, it’s the only nearby place that works at this hour.”
Sylus sighs dramatically but complies, rattling off an order as though it’s beneath him.
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
The apartment greets you with its familiar scent and warmth. What also greets you is pieces of clothing and makeup scattered around the living room. You’re sure your boyfriends noticed the mess, but you’re surprised no one made a single comment as they made their way to the kitchen. You take off your shoes and join them. 
Sylus places the bag of food onto the table, his gaze flicking toward you. “Are those the new jeans?” he asks. 
Caught off guard, you glance down at yourself, smoothing your hands over the denim. “Uh, yeah.” 
“Told you they’d look good,” he says, leaning back against the table, his arms crossing over his chest. The way he says it makes your cheeks warm. 
Before you can respond, Zayne’s voice cuts in, giving you the same compliment. He steps closer, his eyes softening as they glance over you. Tonight, their attention makes you more flustered than usual, so you thank them, your cheeks burning, and you busy yourself with helping Zayne unpack the food.
The three of you engage in small talk as you eat the late-night meal, the earlier tension from the car ride dissipating with each bite. Despite his complaints, Sylus cleans his plate with the efficiency of someone who secretly enjoyed it.
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
Remnants of the day washed away after the shower, the three of you settle on the sofa to watch a movie. Zayne and you slipped into pajamas while Sylus put on a shirt and sweatpants he kept in your apartment. As you sink into the sofa, the warmth of their presence surrounds you. You cover yourself with a blanket, nestling into the space between them. Sylus leans in to press a gentle kiss to your temple, his lips lingering just long enough to send a small shiver through you. “Comfortable?” he murmurs, his voice low and warm.
You nod, your cheeks warming as Zayne reaches for your hand. His touch is light as he lifts it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “It’s been a long night,” he says quietly, his gaze meeting yours. “You should try to relax.”
The tenderness of each gesture dissolves a little more of the tension lingering from the car ride. For a moment, it feels like the night’s events have been smoothed over.
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
The blanket draped across your legs is warm, wrapping you in comfort as the faint scent of soap and shampoo lingers from the showers. You stretch out slowly, eyes still on the tv as you move to rest your head on Sylus’ lap. His hand rests on your head, the light touch of his fingers soothing. Your legs find their place on Zayne’s lap, his strong hands moving to cradle your feet. When his fingers press gently into your arches, eliciting a soft sigh from your lips. The way his thumbs knead into your soles sends tiny ripples of relief through your body. Sylus’ fingers gently massage your temple, while Zayne’s hands work slowly over your calves. For a moment, you’re content to lie there, letting their attention wash over you.
But your hand starts to wander.
It traces along the fabric of his sweatpants as you brush over the firm muscle of his thigh before your palm settles over his crotch. Sylus chuckles, and you feel his body tense slightly under your touch. His hand stills as he glances down at you. “You sure you’re not tired?”
You nuzzle against his thigh, “I’m sure,” you say softly.
Sylus’ gaze flicks past you, meeting Zayne’s over your head, the exchange passing in an instant.
You shift onto your back, blissfully clueless, the warmth of the blanket replaced by the cool air of the room as Zayne slides it away, folding it neatly onto the backrest. His hands move to the waistband of your shorts, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin, sending faint shivers along your body as he pulls off the piece of clothing. You draw a sharp breath as Zayne’s long fingers trace the sensitive spot between your legs, the barrier of your underwear doing little to dull the sensation. His thumb presses gently, testing your reaction.
Above you, Sylus watches your face as you’re still resting your head on his lap. His hand threads through yours, his grip steady as he lifts your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles.
Zayne’s eyes flicker down, his full attention locked on the slow movements of his fingers. The pads of his ring and middle finger press firmly against the soaked fabric of your panties, sliding back and forth at a slow pace. The pressure builds as he alternates his rhythm—pushing his fingers harder against you, dragging them in slow strokes, then pulling back just enough to make you whimper. The dampness of your arousal soaks through the thin barrier, your panties clinging to your folds.
“Fuck,” Zayne murmurs. “You’re so wet, my sweet girl. You like this that much? Being teased like the needy little brat you are?”
Heat floods your cheeks at his words, but before you can respond—his thumb circles your clit, pressing firmly enough to draw a gasp from your pretty lips. Your hips shift against his touch instinctively, desperate for more, but his movements remain infuriatingly measured.
Zayne shifts, his hands pressing against your thighs, keeping you open as his head hovers just between your legs. Your legs tremble in his hold when you feel it - the slow swipe of his tongue over the fabric. A quiet moan escapes your lips as he does it again, his tongue dragging across the sensitive spot, his saliva mixed with your slick making the fabric cling to you. Your free hand moves instinctively, fingers sliding into Zayne’s dark hair, urging him closer, urging him to give you more. His eyes flick up briefly, and then you hear Sylus’ sharp tut from above.
“Tsk, tsk. You’re not in charge here, sweetie.” Sylus’ voice is rich with mock disapproval. He reaches down, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as he pulls your hand away from Zayne’s head with. He presses your hand above your head, holding both of your wrists in place with one hand, while Zayne’s grip on your hips tightens, making it impossible to move. His fingers press into your skin, holding you down as his tongue flicks out again, swirling slow, maddening circles over your clit. Your head tilts back against Sylus’ thigh, a frustrated sound escaping your lips as you try to shift against Zayne’s hold.
“Look at her,” Sylus muses as he watches you squirm. “So fucking needy. Isn’t that cute?”
Zayne chuckles against you, the vibrations making your toes curl. But, after a few more frustratingly dragged out swipes, he finally relents. His hold on your hips loosening just enough to slide your soaked panties to the side, the cool air kissing your exposed skin, spreading goosebumps all over your skin. His thumb brushes lightly along your folds, spreading the slickness, before his tongue is finally on you, dragging slow swipes from your entrance to your clit. Relief courses through you, your thighs trembling as the ache that’s been building finally begins to ease. His tongue moves with precision, parting your folds and swirling around your clit with just the right amount of pressure.
Above you, Sylus’ ruby gaze flickers down, his fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt. The fabric bunches in his hand as he lifts it higher, revealing the soft curves of your breasts, the cool air making your nipples pebble instantly. His free hand traces slow circles around one hardened peak, his thumb brushing lightly over it, teasing, before he pinches just enough to make your back arch off the sofa. Then, slowly, his hand trails up, over the side of your neck, before settling on your bottom lip. The gentle pressure makes your lips part instinctively, your tongue swirling around his finger. Sylus adds another finger, the digits sliding deeper as your lips tighten around them, coating them in saliva. Then he pulls them free and drags them down, swirling over the hardened peaks, the added slickness making you moan.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” Sylus asks, his smirk widening as his fingers press harder, rolling your nipples between them.
Zayne’s lips seal around your clit with just enough suction to make you cry out. Each stroke and suck builds the pressure inside you to a breaking point, your toes curling as the pleasure coils tight in your core, threatening to snap. You’re so close—so close you can feel yourself teetering on the edge—
And then Zayne pulls back.
The loss of contact draws a frustrated, broken whimper from your lips, your hips jerking against nothing.
Zayne looks up at you, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t look so surprised,” his voice calm and infuriatingly composed. “Brats don’t get to finish so easily.” His hands stay firm on your hips, keeping you still as you try to move.
Your lips part in protest, but Sylus cuts you off with a smug tut. “Ah, ah,” he smirks. “You’ll have to earn it first.” His fingers slide down, gliding over your soaked folds before delivering a sharp tap to your swollen pussy, the sudden jolt making you flinch with a yelp.
“Look at this mess,” he mutters, his voice dripping with mockery as he taps again, watching you flinch. “Needy little thing.”
His fingers glide through, your body arching into his touch in desperate need of more. But then he pulls away, leaving you trembling in frustration. His glistening fingers rise to his lips, his eyes locking onto yours as his tongue flicks out, savoring the blend of your juices and Zayne’s lingering taste. He chuckles, “You know we don’t let bad behavior slide.”
Before you can protest, Zayne’s hand slides along your jaw, tilting your face toward him. His hazel eyes meet yours, “You know we’re not angry,” Zayne says softly, as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip. “But we will take our time making sure you understand.”
His words send a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, your body trembling under the weight of their attention. Frustration wells up, but so does the thrill of knowing exactly what they’re doing. Of course, they wouldn’t let you off so easily—it’s Sylus and Zayne.
Sylus releases your wrists, and before you can process the absence of his touch, Zayne reaches for your hands, pulling you upward with ease until you’re sitting on the sofa. Sylus stands up, stepping beside you as his hands hook into the waistband of his sweatpants. He tugs them down just enough to free his cock - thick, flushed with a bead of precum at the tip. Your breath catches as he strokes himself lazily, his eyes glinting when he notices your gaze drop to his length.
“Come here,” Sylus commands as he plants one foot on the floor, the other on the sofa, your mouth watering at the sight. He strokes one last time before dragging the head of his cock toward your parted lips. The salty bead of precum hits your tongue, and you can’t stop the whimper that escapes as you take him in. Sylus growls, his hand resting on the back of your head, holding you steady.
Beside you, Zayne stands up, mirroring Sylus’ stance, as he slides his pajama pants down and frees himself. He wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls your hand to him, curling it around his cock. He’s hot and heavy in your palm, twitching as his hand envelopes yours, his grip firm as he helps you stroke him. “Slow,” he murmurs softly. “Feel how hard you’ve made me.”
Sylus’ hips begin to move, his thrusts shallow at first, as the thick head of his cock pushes deeper past your parted lips. You hollow your cheeks, your tongue flattening beneath him, and the sharp hiss that escapes his lips goes straight to your core.
“Deeper,” Sylus growls, “I know you can take it.”
He doesn’t wait for you to adjust—his grip keeps you firmly in place as his hips roll forward, forcing his cock further down your throat. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you struggle to keep up, swallowing around the thick length stretching your throat. Spit drips from the corners of your mouth as he moves, hitting the back of your throat, making you choke with each thrust. Sylus’ movements falter for a moment, his thrusts growing erratic and then, abruptly, he pulls back. The sudden loss leaves you breathless and you look up to see his jaw clenched, his hand squeezing the flushed tip.
“Fuck,” he mutters in a shaky voice. “Almost made me finish down your throat.”
Before you can catch your breath, Zayne’s hand tilts your chin, guiding your mouth toward him, your lips parting instinctively as the head of his cock brushes against them. He presses forward, filling your mouth, his eyes locking onto yours as your tongue swirls around the tip, savoring the salty taste. A low groan escapes him, his hand resting on the back of your head as he sets a languid pace. Your jaw aches from the stretch, but the weight of him—hot and heavy against your tongue—makes you moan softly, the sound vibrating against him. Your hand finds Sylus, wrapping around his slick length as you stroke him in rhythm with Zayne’s thrusts. Sylus hisses through his teeth, his cock twitching in your grasp as he watches.
The ache between your legs becomes unbearable, your thighs pressing together in the desperate need for release. Unfortunately for you, Zayne’s sharp eyes catch the motion. Abruptly, he pulls back, his cock slipping free with a wet pop.
“No,” he says firmly, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. His grip on your chin forces your gaze upward. “Spread your legs.”
You almost whimper at the tone. “But—”
“Spread them,” Zayne repeats. The authority in his voice makes your thighs part, the frustration growing as Sylus chuckles above you.
Zayne’s hand shifts, guiding your mouth back to him. His cock slides past your lips again, and this time his thrusts are faster, each movement pushing deeper until the tip hits the back of your throat. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes again, the sound of your gagging pulling a guttural growl from him.
“Just like that,” Zayne murmurs, his voice rough. “Take all of it.”
Beside him, Sylus’ breaths become rough and uneven as his hand tightens over yours, his hips snapping forward, drawing Zayne’s attention.
Zayne’s hand slides to the back of Sylus’ neck, pulling him forward until their faces are almost touching. His voice drops low, quiet enough that you can’t make out the words. Their whispers drip with intent, and the thought of them planning your undoing makes your pussy clench desperately, slick spilling over as your body begs to be used exactly the way they want.
Sylus’ eyes flick to Zayne’s, hazy with arousal, with a faint smirk on his lips. Zayne’s lips press to the sharp line of Sylus’ jaw, followed by teeth dragging over his skin before he bites down, rough enough to leave a mark. The sharp sting rips a guttural, feral sound from Sylus’ throat, his cock twitching in your hand, precum spilling along your fingers.
“Good,” Zayne mutters against Sylus’ jaw before he pulls back, releasing Sylus’ neck. Their eyes meet for a moment, before their full attention is back on you.
Zayne’s thrusts grow erratic, his cock hitting the back of your throat one last time before he pulls out, leaving you gasping. You barely have time to recover before Sylus’ hand grips your jaw, tilting your face toward him, but his other hand grabs at the hem of your pajama top, tugging it upward in one swift motion, leaving you bare before him.
“Open,” Sylus commands, and your mouth falls open instantly, tongue slipping out. The flushed tip of his cock presses against it, dragging across it as he smears the salty slick, before his release spills suddenly, the first hot spurt hitting your tongue. The rest paints your cheeks, dripping down your chest, and clings to your skin in messy streaks. Zayne watches, his hand gripping your wrist as you stroke him. His cock twitches violently in your grasp, and when your fingers tighten, slick with his precum, it pushes him over the edge. A sharp, choked groan escapes his lips as his hips snap forward, his release spilling over your face and breasts, mingling with Sylus’ mess.
You’re trembling, every inch of your body aching with unfulfilled need. Sylus tilts your face up with two fingers under your jaw, making you to meet his gaze.
“Look at you,” he murmurs. “Fucking perfect.”
Zayne’s fingers brush the corners of your tear-streaked eyes. “She is,” he agrees with a smirk.
You bite your lip as your gaze flicks between them - they’re both still hard, their cocks twitching and glistening.
Zayne moves first – he sits back on the sofa and grabs a large pillow and positions it behind him. Reclining slightly, he leans back against the cushion, his legs spreading as his cock juts upward. His hands reach for you, pulling you toward him, guiding you onto his lap and helping you recline against him. Your back presses against his chest, his warmth melting some of the tension from your muscles. His arms wrap around your waist, anchoring you to him.
“Just relax,” His voice is calm and soothing as his lips brush against the shell of your ear.
Sylus steps closer, his sharp gaze raking over your trembling form, smirk widening as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties. He drags the soaked fabric down your thighs, exposing your dripping pussy to the cool air.
“Fuck,” Sylus mutters, his eyes burning as he spreads your legs, his grip firm.
Zayne’s hands glide upward, smearing the mess of their release over your chest before his fingers close around your nipples, pinching just enough to make you gasp. Then, his fingers trail downward, leaving a sticky path until they stop just above your needy core. You grab onto his veiny forearms at the first stroke of his fingers over your clit, before his fingers dip lower, gathering your slick before gripping his cock. He presses the tip to your entrance, dragging the length of his shaft through your folds, catching your clit in the motion, making your pussy flutter.
Zayne shifts beneath you, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance before nudging inside. The stretch is immediate, the delicious ache making your breath hitch as he pushes deeper, steadying your hips with firm hands. A raw, breathless moan escapes as he fills you, your head tilting back against his shoulder.
“That’s it.” Zayne whispers in your ear, his grip tightening as he holds you in place.
Every slow thrust presses against your most sensitive spots, each movement tightening the coil in your belly. Sylus watches as his hand wraps around his cock, stroking slowly to match the roll of Zayne’s hips.
“Fuck,” Sylus mutters. “Look at her—dripping down to the base, and you’ve barely started.”
Zayne chuckles softly, his lips brushing your ear as his thrusts grow deeper, each one sinking to the hilt. The intensity builds with each roll of his hips, his cock filling you completely. Your moans grow louder, more desperate, the sound making Sylus’ hand quicken as he strokes himself.
“Are you ready to take me too?” Sylus asks, his voice low and teasing.
Your body freezes momentarily at the question, your pussy clenching around Zayne’s length.
“You… both?” your voice trembles. The idea intrigues you, but you’re hesitant. “I don’t know if I can - I mean – I’m not sure it’ll fit -”
Sylus’ smirk widens. “Oh, it’ll fit,” his voice is almost mocking, “You’ve been so needy tonight. This is what you’ve been begging for, isn’t it?”
Zayne nuzzles against your ear, his lips brushing your skin. “But only if you want it.”
You fall silent, your breath shallow as you process their words.  Sylus’ expression softens, his hand smoothing over your thigh as his gaze meets yours. “You can say no, darling.” he says softly.
Zayne presses a kiss just below your ear. “It’s fine if you don’t want to. You don’t have to take this any further.”
The sudden shift in their demeanor makes your chest tighten and their patience reassures you. You take a second to think. They’d never tried this before—never pushed to see if you could take them both at once. With how thick and long they both are, the idea had always seemed impossible. But tonight, the need is unbearable. You need to feel them—both of them—stretching you, breaking you, until there’s nothing left but the overwhelming sensation of them taking you completely.
You take in a shaky breath, “I want to. I’m ready.”
Zayne’s hands tighten gently around your waist, his lips brushing against your temple. “We’ll take care of you.”
Sylus’ teasing smirk returns. His hand grips his cock, the flushed head pressing against your stuffed entrance. Sylus’ cock nudges forward, catching your clit one, two times as he struggles to push inside. “Relax, sweetheart.” he whispers. Your legs tremble as Sylus presses forward again, the thick head of his cock pushing at your entrance again. A high-pitched whimper escapes you, as Sylus’ cock slips over your clit once more before the head finally begins to ease inside. Sylus moves slowly each inch forcing your body to adjust to the impossible fullness. The tip finally slips fully inside, your walls clamping down tightly around both of them. The sensation is almost too much, your gasps and desperate moans filling the air as your body struggles to adjust to the impossible fullness.
“Shh,” Zayne soothes, as he presses a kiss to your temple. “You’re doing perfectly. Just breathe, my darling.”
Sylus growls, his hand gripping your thighs as he stills. “So tight. Goddamn, Zayne, you’re not leaving much room.”
Zayne chuckles softly, his voice calm but you can feel his muscles tensing. Sylus shifts his hips, his tip stretching you impossibly as he inches deeper. The new fullness is overwhelming, every nerve inside you screaming for more.
“So fucking sensitive,” Zayne teases. “I bet she’ll cum before you’re even halfway there.”
The words make you whimper, your cheeks burning as Sylus pushes further. His hands tighten on your thighs as he finally bottoms out, holding still to let you feel every throbbing inch buried inside you. The maddening stretch of having both of them makes your pussy fluttering around them, pain and pleasure blurring together. Your breath comes in ragged, broken gasps as the tension in your belly coils tighter and tighter, impossibly close to snapping. You try to roll your hips, desperate to chase the climax that is right there, but their strong hands hold you still, denying you the friction you need
“I’m so close - !” you whimper, the desperation spilling from your lips as your head tilts back against Zayne’s shoulder. “I’m gonna—please, I need to—”
Sylus smirks down at you, “Close already?” he taunts. “I haven’t even fucking started yet.”
His hips shift slightly and that is all you need to fall apart, your orgasm crashing over you with devastating force. The tightness of your walls pulls guttural groans from both men, Zayne’s breath hitching against your neck as Sylus growls above you. They hold you steady while your body trembles in the aftermath, shallow gasps leaving your lips.
Sylus’ hand digs into your thigh, the grip bruising as his other hand braces on the backrest. His cock moves with shallow thrusts, the friction making your eyes roll back.
“You’re so sensitive,” Zayne murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. “I can feel you clenching every time he moves.” Sylus’ pace quickens slightly, your moans growing louder as the coil in your belly tightens impossibly fast.
“Already?” Sylus teases, as he watches you writhe.
You don’t even register the question as your orgasm crashes over you. Your walls clench tightly around them both, the overwhelming tightness pulling a groan from Sylus, his hips stuttering briefly, while Zayne sucks in a sharp breath, his fingers tightening on your waist.
But Sylus doesn’t stop. His thrusts deepen, slamming into you, the drag along your oversensitive walls pulling pathetic whimpers as your pussy tightens around him. The slick, maddening friction of their cocks sliding together, every thrust dragging a raw moan from your lips as the stretch pushes you closer to the edge. Your breath catches, your back arching as the coil snaps. Pleasure rips through you, blinding and raw, tears streaking your face. You clench around them tighter, milking them both as the aftershocks crash through you.
Zayne’s breath is hot against your ear, his chest heaving against your back as his cock throbs inside you. The tight clamp of your walls around him has him on the brink, but he holds on as his hand moves downwards from your waist.
“You’ve got one more in you, I can feel it.” he rasps.
His fingers find your swollen clit, the first touch sending a shock through your body, making your hips jerk involuntarily. “Easy,” Zayne soothes, as he presses his fingers firmly against the sensitive spot.
Sylus’ grip on your thigh is bruising as he rams deeper, his eyes locked on yours – watery and heavy-lidded. “You’re milking me—gonna pull me apart.”
Zayne’s breath is hot against your ear, his fingers merciless on your clit, rubbing slick circles that make your hips jerk wildly. “Cum,” he rasps. “Now. Let us feel you, my love.”
Your body obeys - your walls clamp down hard, as you completely lose your voice from the overstimulation. Sylus curses, as your fluttering walls drag him deeper. His cock throbs hard before he cums, his release, hot and thick, floods you as his hips stammer. “Fuck, that’s it,” he growls, his voice breaking. In your fucked out daze you hear Zayne moan in the crook of your neck, as his hips still, burying himself to the hilt, his release hitting in heavy hot waves, mixing with Sylus’, leaving you completely full, dripping, and ruined.
Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, your head lolling back against Zayne’s shoulder. His lips press softly against your temple, his hands stroking your waist gently as Sylus leans over, his breaths heavy and uneven. Every inch of you feels hypersensitive, your skin slick with sweat and cum. You’re pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat, the fullness lingering even as the men stay still, both of them still buried deep inside you.
Sylus’ hand moves from your thigh, his gaze scanning your face. “Breathe for me.” he says, still breathless. His thumb brushes over your cheek, wiping away the stray tears that streaked down your face. You nod weakly, your throat too dry to speak, and you focus on steadying your breath. Sylus smiles softly. “You did so good.”
Zayne’s lips press against your temple again, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “She handled it perfectly. Didn’t you, darling?”
The praise makes your cheeks flush, though you’re still too dazed to say anything. Sylus shifts first, pulling out slowly, the movement making you wince. His hand stays steady on your thigh, stroking softly for a moment before he walks away. Zayne follows a moment later, his withdrawal careful and deliberate. The sudden emptiness pulls a small whimper from your lips before Zayne’s arms tighten around you, holding you firmly against his chest.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers. His hands rub soothing circles over your sides, grounding you as he shifts to sit upright, cradling you in his lap.
Sylus returns quickly with two warm damp cloths. Zayne takes one to clean your face, while Sylus kneels in front of you as he gently wipes away the mess from your thighs and belly.
Zayne murmurs against your temple. “Do you need water? Anything else?”
Your voice is faint, barely above a whisper, as you manage to say, “Just stay… both of you.”
Sylus chuckles softly. “Like we’d go anywhere,” He tosses the cloth aside and sits down on the sofa beside you, while Zayne adjusts his hold, setting you gently to sit in between them and covers your lap with the blanket. The warmth of their bodies, every soothing stroke of their hands, their quiet breaths, soothe you. Though, you can’t relax.
Their care, their unwavering attention, makes the guilt bubble up. Your lips part, but the words catch in your throat. You swallow hard, your fingers clutching the blanket as you glance between them.
You take a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “For lying to you. For sneaking out.”
Zayne presses a kiss to your shoulder, his voice calm as he replies. “I’m glad you admit your mistake. We need to know where you are to keep you safe.”
Sylus’ nods as he caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. “Exactly. We weren’t mad because you went out. We were upset because you didn’t tell us.”
Tears prick your eyes again, but this time they’re from relief. “I won’t do it again… I promise.”
Zayne smiles softly. “We’ll hold you to that promise.”
You nod, the exhaustion catching up to you as your body sinks further into the sofa, your eyelids heavy. But Sylus doesn’t let you rest – he stands up and takes you hand in his. “We need to wash up.”
You whine. “I don’t want too - I’m too tired.”
Sylus grumbles something before he leans down, grips your waist, and hoists you up over his shoulder. You yelp as you’re suddenly upside down, your protests turning into a mix of laughter and annoyance as you squirm in his hold.
“Sylus!” you laugh, your fists half-heartedly thudding against his back. “Put me down!”
“Not happening,” he replies smugly, his palm landing a playful smack against your bare ass.
Behind you, Zayne shakes his head, a fond smile tugging at his lips as he stands up, going around you two and towards the bathroom. “Take it easy, Sylus. She’s had enough for tonight.”
By the time you’re back in bed, wrapped snugly in fresh blankets, sleep takes you almost instantly, nestled between Sylus and Zayne, with your heart light.
499 notes · View notes
onekmaway · 1 day ago
Note
(giving this blog some love 💚)
Rich. men. 🗣️
when he approached you and proposed the idea of being his sugar baby, you thought it would be those cliche stories
but those stereotypes were quickly thrown out when he said that he wanted to be the one taking the backshots 💔 telling you that for every orgasm he have, 10 grand (maybe more) would be inserted into your account ❤️
ofc he takes you to lovely dates outside of the bedroom too 🥰
-🌹
Rich. PATHETIC. men. 🗣️
Imaging you're a college student, your studies having drained you of life, you barely get sleep, and not to mention- you're broke, barely getting by, and not to mention, you had student debt too. But one day, you're scrolling through some dating app (that down bad, huh?), and suddenly gotten a match by some guy- it seems you two had a lot in common (or you simply lied), though, he was older- hell, almost old enough to be your dad, but hey? A pull is a pull- at least he was hot. And after a few dates, you started to like him, though, mostly because on each date, he paid for everything, and I mean everything, which... you did not mind, not at all- hell, you were too scared to even look at the bill, seeing that most of the places you two visited was fancy or expensive at least, so you weren't complaining- it wasn't like you two didn't hit it off, and he was happy enough to pay for all of you expenses.
One day, when you were visiting his penthouse apartment (yeah, he was that rich), and jesus, it made your dorm room look like a cubby, the view was nice too. While you two were drinking a bit, talking and what not- it got quiet, till you heard him ask: "Would- would you mind being my sugar baby?" He asked, making you just pause- god you were a bit scared of him asking this, why else was he spoiling you so much? But god, you were too broke, so pushing your pride away, you agreed. After a month or so, being his sugar baby, it was... well, smooth, he hasn't asked you to do anything, well, maybe a kiss here and there- and hell, he paid for all of you school debt, so that was a plus, you were allowed to live comfortably again. That is till one day, when he invited you to his penthouse, it started slow, talking, and then it turned into kissing, which was slow, passionate- till it turned hungry, needy even- this was the moment you dreaded, when you pulled away, trying to subtly telling him that you weren't really the type to take it up the ass, and that you were kind of a virgin in it- to which he simply chuckled, almost laughing out loud "Wait- no, no, no- I don't want to fuck you- I want you to fuck me" When he said that, you could feel some relief leave your body, but then it turned into a bit confusion- he, your sugar daddy, wanted to be fucked? "Look- I get it, I... probably didn't make it much clear, that, I apologize for... you probably thought I was like- this super dominant CEO type or something?" He asked nervously- everything made sense to you now, the way he acted around you, making sure you well and satisfied, staring at your arms, your muscles, each time you wear a tight shirt or tank top- the fact that you only realized now made you feel a bit dumb "So... will you fuck me?" He asked, bringing you back to the present, the situation finally dawning on you- and like that, you were balls deep inside of him- his hands holding the pillow like a lifeline, your hands gripping his hips oh so tightly as you bounced him back on your cock each time you thrusted inside of him, and god, those moans and groans coming out of his mouth was like a melody- despite him having told you it's been a very long while since he got fucked- he was taking it so well, like he was just made for your cock
His hole was gripping your cock so nicely- much better than the chicks at your college, their cunts pale in comparison of how his walls wrapped so nicely around your cock, "Oh- fuck! I think I'm close, please" He would moan out, his hole gripping your cock even tighter (if that was even possible), moaning each time your cock reached that one spot, that is till you slowed down a bit- wanting to prolong the pleasure just a bit longer, "Oh- fuck, please.... don't edge me now- not now, not when I'm so close" He whined out, pushing his ass back against your hips, trying to get you to fuck him faster again, and after torturing him just a bit longer- you began to fuck him faster again, a moan of delight leaving his lips, gripping his pillow harder as you fucked him into the bed. Now after all of that, he was spent- he knew sleeping with someone younger would drain him, but god, he was much more drained than he thought he would be- and you weren't even tired... yet at least, you were trying to find your boxers, confused where you threw it, he just reached for his bedside drawer lazily, digging around it till he found what he was looking for "Here... buy something nice for you... you made me cum after all" He mumbled out before just simply throwing his wallet at you, practically limp on the bed
Yeah, you could definitely get used to this
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coldfanbou · 21 hours ago
Text
Kinkcember Day 22: Size Kink
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Today, we have actress Park Bo young, getting some extra practice with how her character acts.
Length 1.2K
Park Bo Young X Mreader
Boyoung felt your bulge rub against her as the two of you acted through the sex scene.  Even though you were both wearing modesty garments to protect yourself, she felt your cock through it; she could feel your size. It was making her wet as she felt your strong hands hold her wrists by her head. She wasn’t acting. Boyoung was getting turned on. Her soft moans were real. You kissed her passionately. Boyoung wrapped her legs around your waist, and her tongue lingered in your mouth as you played your part. The moment the director said cut, you pulled back; Boyoung reached forward, wanting to continue before she caught herself and realized the scene was over. “Everyone, we’re taking an hour break. Thank you for your hard work!” The director yells before climbing out of his chair and leaving the sound stage. Some of the stagehands begin cleaning up as you grab bathrobes for you and Boyoung. The young woman puts the bathrobe on and remains seated on the bed as you walk to your dressing room.
Boyoung takes a deep breath and tries to slow her heart rate as the last scene replays in her head. The work she had done with you previously didn’t set her up well for this scene. While she had always liked you, she saw a new side of you that she loved. The strength you showed when you held her down, the way you dominated her with your size, awakened something in her. She stood up slowly and went to your dressing room, wanting to continue the scene but actually performing the act this time.
You head to your dressing room after, trying to relax, when you get a knock on the door. “Who is it?”
“It’s Boyoung!” You walk over to the door and invite your costar inside. “Thanks for letting me in. What do you think about our scenes so far?” She asks, you sitting on your couch.
“I think they’re coming out pretty well. This last one, though… it's a little awkward, isn’t it?” You reply, feeling unsure about your performance in a sex scene.
“No, no! You’re doing great; I could feel everything,” Boyoung curses herself as she realizes what she’s said. “That’s not what I meant, hold on. I just mean that I could feel you putting everything you have into your performance.”
“Ah, that’s what you meant. I was a little worried you could feel me through the modesty garments.” You look down. The modesty garments covered your private areas, but wearing them didn’t give you the most confidence, especially considering your size. “These things are a bit thin, and it makes me a little self-conscious.”
“Ah, you shouldn’t be; you’re perfectly fine,” Boyoung says, patting your chest. “You’re nice and strong in more ways than one. Boyoung purses her lips, considering how to bring up the subject. “I don’t know if you know, but I like to get into my roles. So I’d like to take things a little further.”
“How do you suggest we do that?”
“I want you to fuck me,” Boyoung says bluntly. Throwing caution to the wind, she continues, “I could feel your…cock rubbing against me, and I want to know more about how she would actually react. I need you for this,” Boyoung admits, dropping her robe and removing the modesty garments, bearing her body to you. She steps closer to you, her small hands taking off your modesty garments before reaching for your cock. Her hand can barely wrap around it. Boyoung gulps, mesmerized by your cock; her hand slowly moves from the base to the tip. She brings her other hand to your cock, rubbing the tip against her palm as she squats down. Boyoung was getting excited just holding your cock. “May I?”
You give the small woman a nod; being next to her in the last scene turned you on, and you wanted to fuck her. “Yeah, let’s get more into our roles.” Boyoung squats down, coming face to face with your cock. She gives it a few licks, her small tongue running along the underside before she begins to jerk you off. Boyoung used both hands, amazed at your size. She was getting wetter just thinking about you using it on her. Her mouth barely fit the head of your cock; her lips hollowed as she sucked on it, her tongue licking it like it was a lollipop. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to get it down her throat, Boyoung spit on your cock and spread it around your shaft with her hands, pleasing you as she mentally prepared herself. “I think you’re ready,” She says quietly, 
You picked the small woman up easily, holding onto and squeezing her thighs. You align yourself with her entrance and lower her onto your cock. Boyoung squirms in your arms as her walls wrap around your cock. She groans and whimpers as your cock stretches her small cunt, separating her walls and splitting her in two. You move her along your shaft, slowly taking in more of it until you’re buried inside her. Boyoung bites her lip; she can feel your cock stretching her; her fantasies are being fulfilled as you use her like a toy, moving her along your cock. She clings to you, moaning into your ear about how good it feels to have you inside her. 
“You’re so tight,” you grunt in response, reveling in how her walls flex around your cock as you drive it into her. If Boyoung hadn’t been clinging to you before, she would have needed to know that you moved faster. You were getting into a good rhythm, making her bounce on your cock. The older woman moaned your name and begged you for a kiss. You gave in to her demands; your tongue traced her lips until she allowed you inside. You explored each other's mouths. Boyoung moans in the kiss, arching her back as you thrust deeper into her. You make her shiver as you run your hand down her spine; she moans louder, every touch making her entire body tingle. 
“Oh, fuck, you’re so big. I’m going to cum,” She whines, her walls tightening around you. “I want you to cum inside me. I don’t care what happens. Just fill me up.” Boyoung presses her body against your chest, her moans growing louder as she bounces on your cock. 
Nearing your climax, you hold onto Boyoung’s waist tightly, forcing her up and down your shaft as you thrust into her, crushing her womb. “Oh shit! Yes! Fuck me!” Boyoung cries as you use her more like a toy. Her tongue begins to hang out of her mouth. The woman before you was a far sight from the coworker you know, but it only turns you on more. You continue to fuck Boyoung senseless, pistoning in and out of her until you bury yourself inside her suddenly. You cum rushes inside the small woman, painting her walls white before filling her cunt. You rest Boyoung on your cock, letting her recover from her orgasm. You move over to the couch, setting her down on it before pulling out. “Thank you,” Boyoung mumbles, placing her hand against her cunt and collecting your cum; she sucks on her fingers, a look of lust on her face as she tastes the salty liquid.
A knock on your door alerts the two of you. “We’re going to start filming again! Let’s get going!” One of the staff yells from outside. Boyoung looks at you, worried about her disheveled appearance, but quickly gets dressed and puts on her modesty garments and a bathrobe before walking out. You take an extra minute to clean yourself up before walking out, ready to film more scenes with Boyoung. Any scene that involved the two of you making love would be followed by the actual thing in your dressing room.
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woso-dreamzzz · 1 day ago
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Different: Christmas
Katie McCabe x Teen!Reader
Summary: Christmas with Clover
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"Coopurr...Coopurr, man, knock it off!"
Your mum's cat continues to try to attack your feet under the safe covers of your bed.
"Coopurr! Come on!"
"You can just kick him off the bed," Your aunt Ella says from the doorway and you finally sit up in bed.
"I can't because he's the only sane person in this house! Do you know what it's like leaving with you two?"
"Amazing?"
Your mother pops her head through the door. "The most perfect thing in the world?"
You let out a bark of laughter. "You wish."
Katie winks. "I don't have to wish for something that's already true."
"The most perfect thing in the world is you leaving me here for Christmas."
It's Katie's turn to laugh now, pulling down your blankets and allowing Coopurr to bat at your now exposed toes.
"No chance," She says," Come on, up! We've got the flight back home this evening."
"Just leave me here to rot!" You say dramatically and Katie laughs again.
"You know, if you're here alone then you have to cook for yourself," She points and you sigh, finally sitting up in bed and scooping Coopurr into your arms.
"Fine," You say," But don't think I'll be happy about it."
"You're never happy about anything."
"Kim'll tell you that it's because I'm a teenager."
Katie cracks a smile. "You know what? Kim's onto something."
You roll your eyes as you get out of bed as Katie's eyes narrow.
"You haven't even started packing yet, have you?"
"I was still banking on us staying here."
Katie plucks Coopurr from your arms with an eye roll, trying to push you along with her foot. "Go and pack. And make sure to bring lots of jumpers! You know my parents don't like turning on the heating in Winter!"
You rolls your eyes as you go rummaging around in your wardrobe for your suitcase.
It's not like you don't enjoy going back to Ireland. On the contrary, you love going back to Ireland. You just didn't enjoy how big of a family you have.
Certain members of the family seemed to delight in reminding you that you weren't actually Katie's daughter. It didn't seem to matter to them that Katie had been a mother figure to you all your life. It didn't seem to matter to them that you barely even remembered your biological parents.
All that seemed to matter to them was pointing out that you were technically, biologically, Katie's little cousin.
You stuff whatever's clean and visible into your suitcase with little regard to what clothes you're actually packing before practically throwing the suitcase down the stairs.
"Stop trying to break stuff!" Katie yells.
"Ella's the one that broke the hallway table!" You yell back with a laugh," She came in drunk and fell over it!"
Ella gasps in horror from her room. "You said that you wouldn't tell her that!"
"And you said you would get me ice cream. But here I am...Ice creamless!"
You don't actually get your ice cream, even at the airport when you very pointedly show a selection of ice creams to Ella and she promptly ignores you.
Pulling up to your grandparents' house has always been a bit daunting to you. Before Katie adopted you, you lived in that house too, once upon a time.
Now though, it feels you with trepidation.
Most of the family is probably already there and you just know you're going to have to end up sharing a room with more people than just Katie.
You're right, of course, when a few other aunts and uncles arrive. Katie's aunts and uncles, of course, but also kind of yours. But you'd never really considered them that.
They were related to your biological parents and, again, you barely remembered them. You'd grown up with Katie as your maternal role model so it made sense to you as you got older that her siblings ended up filling the roles of aunts and uncles to you.
"You feeling okay?" Katie asks, hand gently covering yours as you sit on the squished sofa and pick at the Christmas Eve meal that her mother made for everyone.
"I...Yeah, I just..." You look up at one of the older men in the room, the one that always insisted on calling you anything but Katie's daughter. "I'm just going to the toilet."
"You feel sick?" Katie sits up properly, eyes narrowed as they flick over your face, searching for a flush or anything that shows you're feeling under the weather.
"No! No...I...I just need a bit of a breather, you know?"
"Yeah, kind of overwhelming around here, huh?"
"Yeah...I'm just gonna..."
"Yeah, you go ahead."
The mirror in the bathroom clearly hasn't been cleaned in a while, covered in little water droplets but you don't really mind as you splash your face with water a few times and stare at yourself, gripping the sides of the sink in a white knuckle grip.
It takes you a while to psych yourself up, enough time that you're pretty sure dinner has been finished and people have moved onto dessert.
It's usually loud in the McCabe household and on Christmas Eve, it's no different.
Lots of people fighting over the remote and someone singing a horrific Christmas carol and someone else lecturing someone on the correct way to cook a turkey even though everyone knows that no matter how a turkey is cooked, it always comes out dry.
But this yelling is different and you definitely recognise the voice of one of the people yelling.
"Get your bag!" Katie yells, finally spotting you lingering in the doorway.
"Wh-What?"
"Your bag!" Katie snaps before sighing and softening her voice," Can you go upstairs and grab our bags? Wait for me by the door."
You know better than to try and ask her things when she's like this so you leave to grab everything, coming down to catch the tailwind of her yelling.
"-She is my daughter and she will always be my daughter, no matter what any of you people think!"
"Katie-"
"No! I won't hear it! She's my daughter and I love her and it's none of your business anyway!"
"You can't just leave, it's Christmas tomorrow!"
"Yes! And I will be spending Christmas with my daughter! I don't care if it's just the two of us. If it has to be that way then it will!"
Katie looks surprisingly calm when she joins you at the front door.
"I don't think we'll get a flight at this hour," She says," But I reckon we could still catch the ferry and then we'll take a cab back home, sound good?"
You smile at her. "I might have accidentally left your present at home anyway."
She laughs. "That's 'cause you're psychic. You knew we were spending Christmas at home this year."
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meazalykov · 1 day ago
Text
livestream
jule brand x gamer!reader
summary: a mistake will force the both of you to admit something.
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the familiar hum of your dual monitors fills the room as you settle into your gaming chair, adjusting your headset and taking a sip of water. 
your fingers tap against the desk rhythmically, a mix of nerves and excitement bubbling inside you as the stream countdown ends. the chat is already alive, scrolling at a speed that’s hard to keep up with. you catch glimpses of messages—“hi y/n!”  “top streamer is back (kai wishes)”—and giggle to yourself. 
your audience is loyal, supportive, and somehow manages to make you feel connected even though you’ve been living halfway across the world from your home country of the united states for almost a year now.  
“hey, everyone!” you greet, voice warm and cheerful. you lean forward, adjusting the mic closer to your mouth. 
“how’s it going? what’s everyone been up to today?”  
a flurry of replies fills the screen. some talk about work or school, others ask what game you’ll be playing, and a few just spam emotes in excitement.  
“okay, okay,” you say with a laugh, waving a hand at the camera as if to calm them down. 
“before we jump into a game, let me give you a quick rundown of my day since some people in the chat are asking. it’s been a busy one, not gonna lie.”  
someone gifts you a sub, the notification popping up on the screen. you grin, glancing at the message: 
“how was your day, y/n?”
“see! my day? it was good!” you say, leaning back in your chair. 
“a little hectic, though. i went out for breakfast this morning at this cute little café downtown in wolfsburg—you know the one i mentioned last week? their cappuccinos are insane. afterwards i had to run around and grab some last-minute christmas gifts for my family back in the states. classic procrastination on my part.”  
you laugh softly, pausing briefly as you think about the rest of your day. you’re so comfortable, so used to chatting openly with your audience, that the words come out without much thought. 
“then, my girlfriend jul—”  
you freeze. your heart skips a beat as the realization hits you like a ton of bricks.  
“uh, i mean, my friend jule and i went out for lunch before her training session,” you say quickly, stumbling over the words as you try to backtrack. but it’s too late.  
the chat explodes.  
“DID SHE JUST SAY GIRLFRIEND???”  
“WAIT WAIT WAIT.”  
“i KNEW IT WAS JULE.”  
“not lynn wilms????”  
you can feel your face heat up as you glance at the chat. it’s moving so fast that you can barely make out individual messages, but the general vibe is clear: they caught your slip-up, and there’s no taking it back.  
“uh…” you laugh nervously, running a hand through your hair. “i… yeah, i fucked up, didn’t i? shit the stream hasn’t even really started yet ha ha” you mumble, more to yourself than to the chat, but of course, they hear it.  
the chat continues to erupt with a mix of excitement, shock, and jokes. some viewers are celebrating, others are teasing you, and a few are still trying to piece everything together.  
“okay, okay, calm down, everyone!” you say, holding up your hands as if that could somehow stop the chaos. “look, i think that’s enough excitement for one stream. i’m gonna go, even though i just got on, before i dig myself into an even deeper hole. i’ll see you all tomorrow, okay? have a good night!”  
with a click, you end the stream, the screen going black as you sit back in your chair with a heavy sigh.  
“oh my god,” you mutter, covering your face with your hands. your phone buzzes on the desk, and you already know who it’s from.  
sure enough, it’s lynn. 
lynn: I watched the stream. uh oh..
you groan, typing back quickly: yeah… i think i just outed me and jule to the entire internet.  
your phone buzzes again almost immediately, but this time it’s not a text. it’s jule calling. your stomach flips as you stare at her name on the screen, hesitating for a moment before answering.  
“hey…” you say cautiously, your voice small.  
“so… did you do what i think you did?” jule asks, her tone calm but with a hint of curiosity.  
“i’m so sorry,” you blurt out, the words tumbling out in a rush. 
“it just slipped out! i was talking about my day, and i wasn’t thinking, and then—”  
“y/n,” jule interrupts, her voice steady. 
“breathe. it’s okay.”  
“but we agreed to keep it private for at least a year, and now—”  
“y/n,” she says again, a little more firmly this time.
 “it’s okay. i know you didn’t mean to. honestly, people were going to figure it out eventually.”  
you fall silent, guilt still gnawing at you. 
“are you sure you’re not mad? because i feel awful, jule. like, seriously awful.”  
“i’m not mad,” she reassures you, her voice softening. 
“i promise. if anything, it’s kind of funny. you tried so hard to cover it up, but your chat is way too smart for that.”  
you let out a small, reluctant laugh. 
“yeah, they’re too smart for their own good but still, i feel like i messed up.”  
“you didn’t,” she says firmly. 
“it’s fine. really. now stop beating yourself up about it, okay?”  
“okay,” you mumble, though the guilt still lingers.  
the week that follows is a blur. the initial frenzy around your slip-up starts to die down, but the topic still pops up in your community and on social media. jule keeps things normal between you two, never bringing it up unless you do, which helps ease some of your worry. 
still, you can’t shake the feeling that you let her down.  
then, one afternoon, your phone buzzes with a notification from jule’s instagram story. curious, you open it, and your heart skips a beat.  
there, on her story, is a picture of you two from a few weeks ago. 
(pretend this is jule and you of course)
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your jaw drops as you stare at the post, reading and rereading the words.  
quickly calling jule, your voice a mix of shock and amusement. 
“you really just hard-launched us like that?”  
“well, people already knew, didn’t they?” she teases. 
“might as well...”  
the taller blond gets cut off as you laugh, the sound finally free of the guilt that’s been weighing you down all week. 
“you’re amazing, you know that?”  
“i do,” she says, her tone playful. 
“and so are you. now, can we move on from this?”  
“yeah,” you say, and this time, you mean it.  
masterlist
163 notes · View notes
icanseethefuture333 · 2 days ago
Text
18+ PAC: Who wants to slide down your chimney? 🎅🏼🍪🥛
A very nonsense Christmas collab with @icyg4l ❤️🎄🎁 happy holidays everyone!
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Pile 1:
Shufflemancy -
In & Out by Red Velvet
Stay The Night by The Internet
Sex With Me by Rihanna
Seven of Pentacles, Ace of Cups, The Empress, Sing, Drink Tea, Soulmate, & Fun Times
Howdy, pile 1 🤠! It’s giving: “I’m working late ‘cus I’m a singer~🎤” there’s something about needing to warm up your throat 👀☕️? Oh my 🤭 this person really wants to hear your voice. Maybe you and this person meet during karaoke. I’m getting that they are also very vocal in the bedroom and wants to voice their needs and wants. I’m getting a “wife pleaser” so something about being in a tank top and boxers or pajamas. This person loves seeing you dress casually or being comfortable. They also adore your bare face or admire how your face looks with no makeup. Your sp could be considered grounded and attentive, they are in tuned with their emotions. They could know how to please the opposite sex and are in touch with their feminine side (especially if it’s someone with masculine energy). I’m seeing that they want to rub you through your panties/briefs 🫠, pushing it to the side as they rub your knit🧶/play with your snowballs ☃️. If you came, they would lick and/or suck their fingers. Admiring your taste and smell. They really enjoy having fun with you, pile 1! Perhaps this is a coworker or someone you’ll meet in a bar. They are charming and have a suave way about how they carry themselves. Confident but not cocky. This person will want to buy you a drink or offer to take you out on a date. I’m even seeing you having a little too much eggnog. You guys might even have public sex or have sex in the bathroom?! 😅 yeah y’all are definitely going on Santa’s naughty list😈
Pile 2:
Shufflemancy -
Lay You Down by Jimmy Brown
we fell in love in october by girl in red
HOT TO GO! by Chappell Roan
Knight of Wands, The Emperor, Queen of Pentacles, Burning Bowl Ritual, Massage, True Love, & Friendship
Cheers, pile 2 🥂! You may have felt drawn to pile 1 as well, I recommend that you read both! Anyways, I’m seeing romance and lust blossoming possibly between the same sex. You could be a part of the LGBTQ community or perhaps you are friends with people who are queer. You seem to be open minded and eager to try new experiences. I believe that you are someone who is level headed and capable of taking care of themselves. Responsible but also down to party. Your friends greatly appreciate you! I’m seeing you meeting this person at a club or a crowded holiday party. For some of you this will be a dinner party. This person will be eyeing you from across the room and will come over to speak you, you might feel nervous around this person because there is a mutual attraction that you don’t experience too often. You guys will spend the entire night talking and one or the other will invite them back to their place. “Chestnuts roasting by an open fire~” 🪵🔥. You and this person could have sex on the couch or by the fireplace. You will take charge of them and ride on top. The sex could be slow but get progressively harder and faster 🥵. I feel that you needed this more than this person does lol but they will love being at your mercy. Perhaps it’s been a long time since you had sex or a good orgasm, this person will provide just that. I’m seeing you roaming your hands over their body and massaging, grabbing, or groping at their flesh. This person will have a firm grip on your hips and would graze their fingers over your thighs. I believe for some of you this is a friend or an acquaintance, which could develop into something more overtime but for now will be a friends with benefits situation.
Pile 3:
Shufflemancy -
Sin City by Chrishan
Gentleman by KISS OF LIFE
Q U E V A S H A C E R H O Y? by Omar Courtz, De La Rose
Nine of Cups, Ace of Swords, The High Priestess, Chanting, Flow Like Water, Gifts, & Union
Have a ho ho ho-lly jolly Christmas, pile 3 👠! I have a strong feeling you might hook up with a fratboy or sorority girl. If they aren’t in a frat/sorority, then something about this person just gives that vibe. They could be pretty popular and attractive, so they are used to getting what they want. You might not care about this person at all but know you could gain something from them by hanging out with them. You could also just see them as hot but maybe lack total trust in them. They might come off as a typical “fuckboy/girl” to you, so you’re not entirely giving your heart to them, just wanting to enjoy the sleigh ride 🦌🛷 . Something about food play as well? Strawberries, whip creams, or popsicles. They really like your lips so lots of passionate kissing or they want to receive head from you. They can be pretty cocky in the bedroom and once you guys start undressing your clothes, they will immediately smile once they see your body. You could be a brat and this person is a brat tamer. You will brush them off when they tease you and be like “whatever your dick isn’t even that big🙄”. You could also wear cute lingerie or your sp will want to keep it for themselves as a souvenir 😋. I feel like the sex would be raw or there won’t be any condoms (crazy work💀) or someone is on birth control at least. This person really likes your ass so I’m getting spankings and 🥛🥧. I feel like it would be so loooooud omg 😭 this person will have you chanting their name or I’m getting lots of “ooo yes!” and moaning. Some of you in this pile speak a foreign language, Spanish specifically - “si papi”. “I said the neighbors know my name they way you screamin scratchin yellin” Rip to your neighbors smh🫠
Pile 4:
Shufflemancy -
The Body by Wale ft. Jeremiah
A Seat by Arin Ray
2 hands by Tate McRae
Queen of Swords, Ten of Cups, Justice, Dance, Movement, Mature, & Children
Seasons greetings, pile 4 🌠! This person wants to be “Body to body, cheek to cheek🎶” they want your bodies dancing together between the sheets. Your sp appreciates closeness and wishes to be physically intimate. With this person, they are logical, decisive, and upfront. They value family and honor trust. They could be older than you or have a more traditional perspective on love. For some of you, someone has gray hairs developing (either you or them)🎅🏼. They might have children already as well. Perhaps they are divorced or have had children with former partners? It could also mean your sp is well established in their career and is wishing to settle. If you are already in a relationship with this person, then they could want to make love and have a baby over the holidays 🤰🫃. I’m seeing it would be just you guys alone for Christmas, enjoying a nice glass of wine or champagne. You and your person could be listening to music and will dance to slow jams and then it will progress into something more. Kissing and tearing each other’s clothes off as you stumble towards to the bedroom. “I saw Santa kissing mommy”!? If some of you have children and this isn’t their parent, I suggest you make sure your kids are asleep before kissing this person, they might snoop and be nosy 🤣. I’m seeing you mostly laying on your back or stomach during the act, switching positions from missionary to downward dog. This person wants to fuck with intention✨, by going deep and slow. Their goal is to make sure you climax and get to feel the pleasure you always give them. They are big on giving and receiving. I see this person even running a bath with rose petals or giving you massage afterwards, providing you with aftercare. What a heartwarming moment 💕
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capquinn · 2 days ago
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waking up the morning after a roadie and not expecting quinn to be there and then he IS (shocking ik) and just cuddling in the morning is my dream truly. okay bye
ahhhhhhh sleepy, lovey quinny is such a dream. i could write about soft mornings with him forever. hope you enjoy! <3
It’s the warmth that wakes you first, a slow, creeping comfort that feels familiar. The cotton beneath your cheek carries the faint, clean scent of his detergent, and there’s no mistaking the weight of his arm draped over you, his hand resting just beneath the hem of your t-shirt, his palm splayed warm and steady against the small of your back, like it always was. You don’t need to open your eyes to know it’s him. You’d know it anywhere — the soft trace of his shampoo lingering on his skin, the way his chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm under your fingertips.
He's home.
A soft smile tugs at your lips as you nuzzle further into him, the fabric of his shirt brushing against your cheek as you sink into the feeling of him, solid and warm beneath you. He stirs slightly at your movement, a low hum slipping from his throat, and his arm tightens around you instinctively, like he’s pulling you closer even in his half-asleep state.
“You’re home,” you mumble, your voice muffled against his chest, lazy and full of contentment.
“Mmhm,” he hums, the sound barely more than a breath. His lips brush against your hair in a soft, barely-there kiss, and you can feel the faintest curve of his smile. “Got in late. Didn’t want to wake you.”
“You should’ve,” you murmur softly, your voice thick with sleep as you tilt your head just enough to nuzzle your nose against the base of his neck. The motion earns another low hum from him, this one deeper, pleased, as his hand begins to move, slow and lazy, brushing soothing patterns against your back.
“I missed you,” you add, the words barely above a whisper, heavy with the weight of two weeks apart.
Quinn shifts slightly beneath you, his chin resting lightly on the top of your head, tightening his hold on you like he’s trying to erase the distance all at once. His voice is still thick with sleep, rasping softly as he replies, “missed you too.”
His hand moves from your back to tangle gently in your hair, his fingers brushing against your scalp in slow, comforting strokes. The motion is unhurried, each touch lingering as if he’s savouring the quiet moment just as much as you are. You sigh against him, your body melting further into his, and it feels like every ache of the past two weeks apart is fading into the warmth of him now.
“Two weeks felt like forever this time,” you murmur into the cotton of his shirt, the fabric muffling your words but not the emotion behind them.
“Yeah,” he murmurs back, voice low and a little rough. “Hated it.”
His lips brush against your hair again, firmer this time, lingering. Neither of you says anything for a while after that, content to stay tangled together in the quiet. His breathing evens out, steady and soothing, and you close your eyes, tracing small, absent minded patterns on his chest with your fingertips.
Eventually, you tilt your head back to look up at him, his features softened by the golden morning light spilling into the room. For a moment, you think he might’ve fallen back asleep — his lashes resting against his cheeks, his breathing slow. But then, his lips twitch into the faintest smile, and he brushes his nose against yours.
“You’re staring,” he murmurs, his voice low and edged with a sleepy rasp.
A small smile tugs at your lips, and you let out a soft laugh, your fingers stilling against his chest for just a moment. “Just… happy you’re here.”
His eyes remain closed and he stays quiet, but his actions say everything — his nose brushes against yours again, his breath fanning against your skin, and you sink into him, leaning in to press a featherlight kiss to his lips. When you start to pull away, he hums softly, the sound low and content, his hand lingering, and with the faintest nudge, he guides your face back toward his. His lips meet yours again, this time slower, deeper, unhurried, like he has all the time in the world to lose himself in you.
When he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, you stay there for a moment, eyes closed, breaths mingling in the soft morning light. His fingers remain tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing idly along your temple as if to say, stay here, don’t move.
And for a moment, the silence stretches, filled with nothing but the soft rhythm of your breaths and the warmth of his thumb moving gently against your skin. His lips hover close, like he’s still debating whether to steal another kiss, but instead, he finally breaks the quiet.
“Missed this,” he murmurs, voice all sleep-rough.
“Hmm?” you hum softly, your hand finding its way to his jaw, your thumb grazing over the stubble there.
“Waking up with you,” he says, his tone so gentle it’s almost shy, like admitting it out loud might make it too real. His hand trails lazily up your back, his palm flattening between your shoulder blades as he tugs you closer. “Been counting the days.”
You smile against him, your nose brushing his cheek. “I didn’t think you’d be back until later.”
“Just wanted to come home,” he admits, his lips curving faintly.
Your heart flips at the quiet sincerity in his words, and you lean closer, your lips ghosting over the corner of his mouth in response.
“Should’ve woken me,” you say again softly, not as a reprimand but as a quiet confession, a small ache for the hours you missed.
“Wanted to,” he replies, his hand slipping back to cradle your head again, his fingers threading gently through your hair. “But you looked so peaceful. Didn’t have the heart.”
You huff a quiet laugh, tilting your head back just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes are still heavy with sleep, but there’s a warmth there, a quiet adoration that makes you melt.
“Next time, wake me,” you murmur. “I’ll forgive you, promise.”
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 23 hours ago
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Just for the Taste
Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Masturbation, smut. Word count: ~3k
Summary: Growing increasingly frustrated with the pace things are going at between her and Michael, his girlfriend takes matters into her own hands, quite literally.
Author's note: Day nine of Smuffmas - stockings and sex toys. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.
She had met Michael in her first month at Oxford university. It was a Saturday night and, unlike the vast majority of people living in her college, she had opted to stay in instead of hitting the town to spend her student loan in one of the many pubs. She had a tutorial on Monday and was determined to impress the computer scientist who would be leading it. Her entire weekend revolved around getting ahead with the required reading in order to have a full understanding of the previous week’s lecture topics. She wanted to be able to talk about them at length, and share her ideas in a comprehensive manner.
Her stomach had dropped as she had reached into her backpack, feeling that her Discrete Mathematics textbook was missing. She cursed under her breath, realising she had left it on the table in the Bodleian Old Library. It closed at 4pm on Saturdays, so she’d have to wait until it opened tomorrow to go and fetch it back.
A lack of a textbook wasn’t enough to deter her though. On average, of students that applied to the Computer Science course at Oxford, only 17% were interviewed, and only 5% were successful. She was acutely aware of how fortunate she was, but also how hard she’d worked to get here, and wasn’t about to let that lapse.
A thorough Google search yielded nothing useful, all of the PDFs she managed to unearth were outdated editions and would have been of no use to her. She decided to go door knocking – the time will pass anyway, she figured, and there might be someone in their room that had a copy of the textbook that she could borrow. A long shot, but it was either that or lose an evening of studying, and she wasn’t prepared to do that.
Unfortunately for her, the Computer Science course wasn’t an especially sociable one – the difficulty of the subject matter and competitive nature of the field it eventually lead into wasn’t a breeding ground for fast friendships, and with only 44 people on the course who were all more than happy to keep to themselves, she had no idea where any of them were actually staying. There had to be at least one in her college though.
The first three doors she knocked on yielded no response, the fourth was answered by a flustered, barely dressed girl, who stared at her in wide eyed bewilderment as a male voice from within the room called out “tell them to go away!”
Her skin ablaze with embarrassment, she descended the stairs and was fully prepared to give up after receiving no response from another two doors, before the one in the far corner creaked open, causing her to turn to face the noise. A bespectacled pair of blue eyes peered out at her, narrowed in suspicion.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?”
She glanced at her watch – just after 9.30pm. “Yeah, it’s not late…”
“What are you doing?” he asked her. His voice was quiet, but laced with derision. “Are you pissed?”
She shook her head, slowly approaching his door as she clasped her hands in front of her. His stare was piercing and intense, yet his posture was so rigid she got the sense that he’d likely slam the door on her if she moved too quickly.
“I haven’t been drinking,” she said apologetically, “just need to borrow a textbook. You’re not on my course so I doubt you could help me anyway.”
“What are you reading?” he asked, his posture softening slightly, though he didn’t open the door any wider.
“Computer Science.”
“Hmm. I’m reading Maths, so–”
Her eyes lit up, a surge of hope making her heart soar. “I need a copy of Discrete Mathematics,” she said excitedly, “I don’t suppose you have one?”
“Not a physical copy…”
She visibly deflated, her heart sinking in disappointment as her shoulders sagged. “Nevermind then. Thanks anyway.”
“I’ve got a PDF,” he said, opening the door wider as she turned to leave.
She stopped in her tracks, her gaze drifting to where his fingers clutched the USB drive that was clasped to the belt loop of his tan coloured cargo trousers with a carabiner clip. “From what year?” she asked quietly, as her eyes lifted back up to his.
“2005.”
She grinned. That was exactly the year she needed. “You’re an absolute lifesaver,” she told him, her voice breathy with relief.
“I think the file might be too big for me to send over email though,” he admitted.
“Could you not just lend me the flash drive? I can give it straight back tomorrow morning.”
He pursed his lips, eyeing her from head to toe. “How do I know you will? This is a one gigabyte USB drive, it’s valuable. You might steal it.”
She grinned, until she realised he was being serious. “I live in the room directly above yours,” she told him, gesturing upwards towards the ceiling, “so you’ll know where to find me.” She gave him her name, as she fiddled with the clasp of her watch, removing it from her wrist and holding it out to him. “Here, insurance, so you know I’m not trying to steal from you.”
The faintest hint of a smile ghosted across his lips as his eyes crinkled in amusement. “Alright, fine,” he relented, taking her watch from her and slipping it into his pocket. He unclipped the USB drive and handed it to her. “I’m Michael, by the way.”
“Thanks, Michael,” she said with a coy smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She made her way back upstairs to her room and spent the rest of the night studying then, true to her word, on her way to the library the following morning, she knocked on Michael’s door to give him back his USB drive.
“I’m glad to see you’re a woman of your word,” Michael said playfully, as she clipped the drive back onto his carabiner, his cheeks flushing at her close proximity.
She held out her wrist and, silently, he clasped her watch back around it. Her skin tingled as his fingers brushed across it, their eyes meeting as their breaths simultaneously caught in their throats.
From that moment on, her and Michael were inseparable. The attraction was instantaneous, deepened by a shared love of mathematics and a refusal to toe the line when it came to the unspoken social hierarchy in place at the university.
Michael was a virgin, and so they took things slowly. She had had a long term boyfriend before going away to university, so she had had sex, but wasn’t overwhelmingly experienced. The split between her and her ex had been amicable; both going away to study in entirely different cities, they had wanted to give each other the opportunity to focus on their respective courses, rather than the pressures of maintaining a long distance relationship.
Things often turned hot and heavy between her and Michael. As their kisses grew feverish, his hips grinding of their own accord against hers, she could feel he was hard, knew that he wanted her, but was often left disappointed when he would hurry to the bathroom for a cold shower before anything truly interesting could happen between them. She cared for him, so she was happy to wait, though the sexual frustration was beginning to take its toll on her.
She had never been more grateful for the bullet vibrator she had brought with her to university, though it was costing her a small fortune in batteries – it had never had so much use before.
Three months into their relationship, she was beginning to get desperate. They had arranged to watch a film in Michael’s room that evening, so she decided to make it more than obvious that she was eager to take things a step further.
She pulled on lace topped hold up stockings and a black, lacy lingerie set, covering it with the red woolen jumper that Michael had left in her room the last time he was there. It fell to her mid thigh, so it wasn't immediately obvious that she had no other clothing on underneath.
They had fallen into the comfortable habit of leaving their doors unlocked when they were expecting each other to come over, so that they wouldn’t have to knock. She let herself straight into his room, finding Michael hunched over at his desk, fiddling with a Blockbuster DVD case to open it, so he could insert the disc into the CD drive of his laptop.
“What we watching then?” she asked, letting her rucksack drop from her shoulder onto the floor as she perched on the edge of his bed.
“Revenge of the Sith,” he answered, turning in his seat to look at her, “it’s a Star Wars film. I thought, erm…”
He trailed off, his lips parting slightly as he pushed his glasses up his nose. She followed his line of sight, seeing that the hem of his jumper had ridden up as she’d sat on the bed, revealing the lacy tops of her stockings. She smiled, knowing her outfit was having the desired effect, before looking back at him.
“You thought what?” she asked innocently, settling back properly on the bed as she moved a pillow behind her to lean against. She didn’t bother to pull the jumper back down, wanting to leave no room for doubt as to what her intentions were.
Michael swallowed thickly, before shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter, let’s just watch the film.”
As the film played, she could hardly concentrate, the closeness of Michael next to her, the heat of his body so close to hers was a distraction. Their fingers were entwined upon the sheets between them, a gesture of closeness and intimacy, but it wasn’t enough. She needed more.
Slowly, she moved his hand onto her thigh, leaving their fingers interwoven there for a few moments while she gauged his reaction. His eyes flitted to hers and he offered her a tight smile before he returned his attention back to his laptop screen. He made no attempt to move his hand away, so she left it there.
Gradually, she disentangled her fingers from his, pulling her hand away until only his remained on top of her thigh. His thumb absentmindedly began to stroke at the lace of her stocking, tracing the swirling pattern of the material as he continued to watch the film.
She had no idea what was occurring on the screen; the light sabers, the red and black face of Darth Maul, it was all just a blur of colour to her as her pulse raced beneath Michael’s touch. His hand moved higher, fingertips brushing against the soft skin of her inner thigh. It took all of her restraint not to just grab his hand and place it where she needed him most, knowing that she shouldn’t rush him. At a maddeningly slow pace his fingers inched their way up, her core throbbing with desire and the crotch of her knickers growing damp with arousal the closer he got. As his fingertips reached the hem of her underwear, so close to pushing underneath, the credits of the film began to roll and Michael moved his hand away, climbing off of the bed towards the desk where the laptop sat.
She wanted to scream in frustration, every nerve ending in her body felt ablaze, desperate to feel something, anything and he was painfully oblivious to all of it.
Not in the mood to answer his questions about what she had thought about what they had just watched – she hadn’t been paying attention anyway – she stood up, tugging the jumper down and slipping the shoes back on.
“Night then,” she called over her shoulder, not giving him a chance to respond as she hurried out of his room and back up the stairs towards her own.
She knew she was being rude and incredibly unfair to Michael, and that they would likely have to discuss at some point how his apprehension towards physical intimacy was affecting her, but right now she was a pent up mess of hormones and arousal and she needed release.
Slamming the door closed the moment she stepped into her room, she flopped down onto the bed, roughly tugging her underwear down her legs and tossing it to one side. She reached into the bedside table drawer, feeling around until her fingers wrapped around the familiar shape of her bullet vibrator.
Thank god, she thought, switching it on and bringing it between her legs, sighing in relief as she pressed it against her swollen clit and her eyes fluttered closed. Her breaths grew heavier as she moved the toy in tight circles to aid the gentle rumble against her sensitive bundle of nerves.
She froze as the door swung to, her eyes snapping open to see Michael standing there.
“Hey, you left your bag, so I– oh, shit, sorry!”
“Wait!” she pleaded, turning the toy off and chucking it down onto the bed as she moved into a sitting position. “Don’t go.”
He let her rucksack drop to the floor beside his feet, closing the door behind him and resting his back against it. His eyes were glued to the floor, his cheeks ablaze as he struggled to find the words. “Were you…were you…um…”
“Yeah, yeah, I was,” she admitted shamefully, feeling her skin grow warm with humiliation.
“Is that why you left so quickly? Because you wanted to…”
He looked so dejected, so sad, so hurt, it made her want to burst into tears. She’d have done anything to take away the furrow of his brow, the disappointed look in his eyes. “Yes,” she whispered, hating herself for the answer.
“Do you not want to with me then?” he asked, his voice so soft she had to strain to hear it.
“Of course I do,” she insisted, “that’s why I was doing…what I was doing.”
“I don’t understand,” he admitted, finally looking up to meet her eye, his back still pressed against the door as she sat on the bed.
She sighed, raking a hand through her hair, unable to keep the frustration from her voice as she tried to explain. “I want you, Michael, but I appreciate that you’re a virgin and I don’t want to push you before you’re ready. I have needs though, I’m sorry…”
“You shouldn’t have to apologise for that,” he reassured her, pushing away from the door and slowly approaching the bed, “I am ready, I just never realised you wanted to, you never said.”
“I’ve been dropping hints left and right, did you not see what I was wearing tonight?”
“Yeah, my jumper,” he answered, rubbing the back of his neck, “just assumed you hadn’t done any washing for a while.”
She groaned, fighting the urge to laugh – for an intelligent guy, he could be so incredibly dense. “I want to fuck you! Is that clear enough?”
Michael nodded, his gaze falling upon the toy that lay discarded beside her. “I don’t know what I’m doing though. I’ve always just been able to do maths in my head, never needed a calculator before, but I know they help people. Maybe that–” he pointed towards the vibrator, “could be my calculator, could help me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Show me how to fuck you.”
The bluntness took her breath away, but the intensity of his stare left no room for argument. “Alright,” she nodded, picking the toy up once more.
Michael stepped clumsily out of his shoes, then moved to the foot of the bed, kneeling upon it. “Go on then, show me.”
She could feel nervous excitement fluttering in her belly as she laid back, allowing her legs to fall open, giving him an unobstructed view of her most intimate area, before she pressed the bullet back against herself and switched it on.
Michael inhaled sharply, his hands coming to rest upon the knees of her bent legs, holding them open as he watched her intently. “What does it feel like?”
“It…it feels good,” she whispered breathlessly, slowly circling the toy against her bud, “there’s pressure, but it feels nice.” 
She gazed up at him as she panted and moaned softly, seeing the way his pupils dilated subtly. His hands moved to his belt, tugging it open, causing her to bite her lip, a mixture of arousal, curiosity and disbelief all fought for dominance in her pleasure-addled mind as she watched him unzip his trousers and free his hardened length. It was long, thick and slightly curved, the tip weeping with arousal.
“Can I?” he asked, gently grasping her wrist to coax her hand away from herself. 
She nodded, allowing him to move her arm to her side, the toy still buzzing in her hand. She gasped as he replaced the toy with the flushed head of his cock, rubbing it in circular motions, allowing it to notch against her clitoral hood.
“Like this?” he asked, his voice strained, and she simply nodded, desperately fighting the urge to buck her hips from the exquisite pressure he was applying.
“Shouldn’t…shouldn’t your first time be special?” she uttered, voice thick with desire.
“We’re not fucking, we’re learning,” he said softly, his gaze never moving from between her thighs as he continued to stroke himself through her slick folds, “and besides, it being with you automatically makes it special.”
Her heart fluttered at his words, they would have been romantic were it not for the lewdness of what they were doing.
“Now,” he said, pulling back slightly and grabbing her wrist again, “show me what else you do with this toy.”
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chrissturnsfav · 22 hours ago
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fuckgirl!reader flirting with loser!matt, but she’s drunk so he’s just acting all nonchalant abt it
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 loser!matt babysits drunk fuckgirl!reader
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the bass thumps in your chest, the music a relentless pulse that matches the dizzying swirl of the room. everything’s fuzzy—lights blurring into streaks, voices overlapping into a symphony of noise. you don’t remember how many drinks you’ve had, but it’s definitely more than you should’ve.
and then there’s matt. sweet, awkward matt.
"matt," you whine over the music that echoes in your ears, drawing out his name, your hand reaching for his sleeve. your fingers barely graze the fabric before you lose balance, tumbling halfway into his lap.
he catches you, because of course he does, his reflexes sharper than you’d expect. "careful," he says, voice dry but not unkind.
"i am careful," you insist, dragging yourself up and planting one hand on his chest for stability. it’s a nice chest—solid under your palm. "you’re just in my way."
"can we go upstairs?" you say feigning sweetness with a crooked smirk, your breath warm against his neck.
"nah." he leans back and manspreads on the couch, cool as ever, like he’s immune to your charms. it’s sickening.
"why not?" you pout, tugging at his arm. your dress rides up as you move, not that you care—matt’s the only one looking, and isn’t that the point?
"because you’re drunk kid," he says simply, tilting his head like he’s assessing whether you’re about to topple over again.
"so?" you challenge, a teasing grin spreading across your face. "you’re supposed to take care of me, aren’t you? that’s what guys do at parties, right? fuck pretty girls?"
he rolls his eyes but doesn’t let go when you wrap your arms around his neck. "m'not fucking you kid," he snickers.
you groan, a little too loud, and press your forehead against his. "you’re no fun, matt. chris would fuck me. he would probably die for the chance."
"yeah, but i’m not chris," he says, gently disentangling your arms from his neck.
"clearly," you mutter, falling back onto the couch in a dramatic heap. you look up at him, your eyes hooded and pleading. "don’t you think i’m pretty, though?"
he snorts, shaking his head. "nice try."
"what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" you demand, half-offended, half-sickened by how unaffected he is.
"it means you’re wasted, and you’re not gonna trick me into saying something stupid," he says, leaning down to pull a blanket off the back of the couch. he drapes it over your legs, ignoring your protests.
"you’re boring," you declare, crossing your arms with a drunken frown.
"and you’re a fucking mess," he counters, his smirk softening into something almost fond. "but don’t worry. i’ve got you."
his words hit you in a way you didn’t expect—soft and steady, but somehow leaving a mark. it makes your chest tighten, your thighs hot, and your stomach flip.
you know he’s just being responsible matt, always the boring one, always the one making sure things don’t spiral out of control. but the way his eyes linger on yours, the hint of warmth behind the teasing, makes you need him even more.
you grab his hand, holding onto it like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. "matt," you say again, but this time it’s quieter, your voice dipping into something softer, almost vulnerable.
"what now?" he asks, half-laughing, though his hand doesn’t pull away.
"just one little kiss, at least. please?" you say, your voice dropping into something softer, more pleading.
he laughs, shaking his head like you’re ridiculous. "not happening."
"you're the fucking worst," you whine, ripping your hand from his and sinking into the couch again.
"sleep it off kid," he says, his voice softer now. "you’ll thank me later."
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𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: the way i literally was writing this without even seeing this anon! i was abt to publish it and then checked my inbox and i was like :o that's perfect. so i copy and pasted the draft here.
thank you for reading! <3
tags: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @swagalicious260 , @sturnhyyhblog , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott
@chrissturnsfav ™
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ickyrafe · 22 hours ago
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i fuckin love Rafe’s complex about ward. Like in season 2 when he starts wearing ward’s clothes and rings - he’s so pathetic oh my god. He’ll do anything to feel like the man of the house. I think this ties in w a lot of your au’s. Like old-fashioned misogynistic Rafe (housewife kink loud and proud) bc he just uses reader to feel like some alpha male 💀
i think you touched on it before about him fucking reader in ward’s bed - can you elaborate or write a drabble perhaps on how else this complex affects his (could be an any rafe from an au of your choice) relationship with (again- any) reader? I think it’s so twisted and sexy at the same time.
love your work!
-sadie
♥︎_♥︎ his complex with ward & how it effects housewife!reader specifically is speaking to me… cw -> noncon themes, unhingedabuser!rafe, housewife / marriage kink.
it starts with him sending you a glance as you sit at his family’s dining room table. one that you meet with a knowing look, just before he clears his throat and excuses himself, challenging you to come find him like the attentive wife everyone knows you are. and of course you do, ward sending you a warm smile and cracking a joke about rafe’s temper that makes your own smile falter, already feeling his fingers around your throat just from the implication.
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when you tiptoe up the staircase, you see the door to the master bedroom— ward and rose’s room, formerly ward and rafe’s mother’s room long ago— cracked open, rafe clearly pacing about. footsteps muffled by the century old rug beneath his feet as your own are light and calculated, voice airy as you approach him and place a hand on the tense muscles of his upper back.
“rafe, are you okay?”
“yeah, everything’s fuckin’ great,” he sniffles, words bitter as the roll off of his tongue, “he thinks i’m a fuckin’ joke— he thinks that we’re a joke.”
“what are you talking about?”
the way you ask must make something in rafe snap. you’re shoved down onto the crisp duvet, tummy down as your protests are completely ignored and your dress is hitched up around your hips.
“rafe, we can’t here.” your words come out in hushed cries as you try your best to reason with him, but also not wanting to alarm anyone of what’s happening by any means.
“just— shut the fuck up f’r a second.” he snarls, yanking your panties down your twitching thighs before the same hand he used trails up your back, holding you down by the scruff of your neck. “you shouldn’t be fightin’ me off like that— i put that pretty ring on your finger to use you how i want to, brat.”
the sound of his belt being undone makes your heart sink, while your face his pressed up against bedding that smells like his father— yet rafe’s own scent lingers, too. it’s something you recognize, something that makes you dizzy before he even spits on your cunt and stuffs you full of his cock. you keen, still fighting to get up despite the way you’re pinned down but it’s mostly because you want to see rafe’s face. you want to feel him deeper as he folds you in half, you want to be his good little wife…
but it’s not something you can afford at the moment it seems.
not when he’s baring his teeth and knocking the air out of your lungs with each of his thrusts, forcing you to muffle your hiccups with the plush surface underneath you as he bruises your cervix. the feel and god— the sound— of his hips smacking agaisnt the plush curve of your ass makes your face heat up until you’re burning from the inside out with embarrassment.
“i’m more of a fuckin’ man than he’ll ever be,” you hear him grit out through his teeth, as if he’s trying to prove it to himself rather than you, “isn’t that right, baby?”
you babble out in agreement, nodding the best you can despite feeling utterly fucked out already as he leans over you, caging you in with his bigger form and strong arms.
rafe’s the man of the house in your world, and that’s all that matters to either of you.
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nightplvmes · 2 days ago
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*.⊹˚ ZAYNE | christmas eve (christmas special)
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── ◜zayne x fem!reader — mini one shot 1.1k words ◜Zayne has to work on Christmas, so she decides to surprise him with their little Christmas dinner. — author's note here | christmas specials from the rest of the LI on my profile
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She hated that Zayne worked so much without resting, but if there was one thing she hated more than that, it was he had to work on Christmas Eve. It was her first Christmas with a boyfriend and her boyfriend had to work.
According to Zayne, those days were actually pretty busy. People were slipping off the roofs while putting up decorations or having accidents while making dinner. She didn't say anything when Zayne told her he had to work, she should actually be proud that her boyfriend is saving lives! But while her boyfriend was saving lives, she was home alone… a little sad. She had actually lied to Zayne, saying she had plans with her friends because didn't want him to worry about her.
She had to do something, mainly because she didn't want her boyfriend to spend Christmas Eve alone in a hospital room… That's why almost two hours later she found herself leaving her apartment, a small bag at her side as she got into her car.
The ride to the hospital was smooth and quick, she expected there to be more cars on the streets, but it was the opposite. She confirmed her suspicions when she passed by the waiting room later: there were barely three people. She knew the reason Zayne was there that day was as a precaution, but why couldn't they just ask another doctor to stay? She was being selfish perhaps.
"Zayne?" She knocked on his office door, looked over her shoulder but the hallway was completely empty. She had passed the surgery board on her way there and Zayne's name wasn't there. Maybe he was with another patie…
The door in front of her opened. Her face lit up as she saw her boyfriend with his brow slightly furrowed in confusion. "What are you doing here?" he asked with that softness in his voice he always used with her.
"I brought Christmas dinner." She smiled lifting the small bag in her hands, Zayne let her in seconds later, still a little confused.
"I thought you had plans with your friends."
"Yeah, well… I lied." She smiled shyly, not wanting him to get upset with her even though Zayne seemed to lose his patience… never. "I thought we could have dinner together."
Zayne was silent for several seconds. He knew his girlfriend had preferred not to mention anything and let him work, she did that all the time lately, but she was here anyway. She had cooked something for both of them and now she was here, giving up any last-minute plans she might have made to spend time with him on Christmas.
"You didn't have to do that." Zayne approached her, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend. She smiled slightly and shook her head, not wanting him to feel guilty.
"I don't mind. Let's eat." She placed one last kiss on his cheek before turning to start unpacking the food she had made for them.
She didn't mind the fact that she had to be there. After all, it was Christmas Eve, they could spend the day together tomorrow, right?
Over an hour later, she plopped down into the chair in front of Zayne's desk. She felt like she had eaten too much and now she couldn't move.
"Mmm… I think I'll take a nap on your couch" she whined, shifting in her seat. Zayne smiled at his girlfriend's exaggeration.
He glanced at the watch on his wrist, he knew she hadn't noticed but it was almost midnight. He knew she wasn't the biggest fan of Christmas but at least it was important enough as anyone else.
Zayne's hand slid down to one of his desk drawers to pull out the small box he had been hiding for almost two weeks. His girlfriend was too focused on complaining to notice. He hid it in one of his pants pockets and continued acting normally, clearing his throat to get her attention and getting up from his chair.
"Come on, it's almost midnight." She stood up quickly at his words and looked around for a clock. She hadn't even noticed the time, she only knew that her stomach was starting to hurt a little.
"Where are we going?" She asked, reaching over to grab her jacket. Maybe it had been a bad idea to wear such a thin jacket.
"Let's go to the roof," he murmured, wrapping one of his arms around her waist. He knew how much his girlfriend loved the snow and he didn't want midnight to arrive locked in the four walls of his office where she spent most of her lunch breaks anyway.
Five minutes later she felt the cold air hit her face, she had to narrowed her eyes. Zayne took one of her hands and directed her close to the edge, causing snowflakes to begin shower her hair.
She smiled excitedly. She loved the snow and even though she was sure she would start shivering in a couple of minutes, she loved the feeling of the cold against her face and the snowflakes in her hair.
"What time is it?" She asked turning to face Zayne and looked at the watch on his wrist once more.
"11:59."
She smiled excitedly. Her hand slipped into her jacket pocket to pull out a small mistletoe she had brought from home. She had almost forgotten it was there.
She smiled as she tried to stand on her tiptoes to put the mistletoe under both of their heads, but Zayne was quite a bit taller than her so she could barely do it. Zayne smiled when he noticed what his girlfriend was doing, he didn't need an excuse to kiss her anyway.
"Where did you get that?"
"I brought it from home." She shrugged. "Now you have to kiss me." She didn't have to tell him twice.
His arms wrapped around her gently, closing the small distance between them. She had suddenly forgotten all about the cold she had felt when they had reached the rooftop.
Zayne pressed his lips to hers without thinking, He deepened the kiss, holding her more closely to his body. He took the time to enjoy the warmth of his girlfriend, the way she let him explore her mouth… As if they had all the time in the world.
A loud bang in the distance separated them. She frowned, somewhat confused, she was expecting fireworks on New Year's but certainly not on Christmas. Bright colors flooded the sky for a few seconds before fading away. It was Christmas.
She turned excitedly, her nose had turned red due to the cold and her hair was now covered in snowflakes. The most adorable picture Zayne had ever seen.
"Merry Christmas, Dr. Zayne."
"Merry Christmas, my love."
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kiwriteswords · 3 days ago
Note
LEts see a hallmark-y meet cute Hotch and Readr christmas drabble
Let your heart be light [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]
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Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 1.3k|| 
Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, Hotch feeling like a bad parent, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Actual tooth-rotting Fluff, Stranded at the airport, alcohol tw, possibly ooc for Hotch at the end but I wanted to add fluff.
Sypnosis: Amid a holiday snowstorm, Aaron Hotchner and a fellow stranded traveler, you, find unexpected camaraderie at an airport bar
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The bustling atmosphere of the commercial airport was the last place Aaron Hotchner wanted to find himself, especially so close to the holidays. The snowstorm outside raged with a fury, mirroring the frustration bubbling within him and his team. Flights were canceled left and right--starting with the private jet, announcements blaring over the loudspeakers only added to the cacophony, and families and travelers alike were stranded—much like the BAU.
Rossi, ever the optimist or perhaps just desperate for a distraction, led the way through the crowded terminals. “If we’re going to be stuck with the general population, we might as well live it up,” he declared, guiding the team—JJ, Emily, Derek, Spencer, and a reluctant Hotch—toward the airport bar.
The bar was a loud, colorful oasis amid the sea of frustrated passengers. The team found a corner where they could at least hear each other over the din. Hotch sat with them, his mind a thousand miles away with Jack, hoping he wouldn’t be too disappointed if Daddy missed Christmas morning.
“You look like someone stole your last cookie, Hotch,” Derek teased, nudging him slightly with his elbow.
Hotch managed a tight-lipped smile. “Just thinking about Jack,” he admitted, scanning the room distractedly. That’s when he noticed you. You were sitting alone at the bar, your posture relaxed despite the chaos, sipping on a drink and occasionally glancing at your phone.
Unexpectedly, a bartender approached him with a glass, setting it down in front of him. “Compliments of the lady over at the bar,” the bartender said, nodding in your direction.
Hotch’s eyes widened slightly, following the bartender’s gesture back to you. The team had noticed the exchange too, their teasing grins growing wider.
“She’s beautiful, Hotch. And it looks like she thinks you could use some company,” Emily commented, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
“You should go say hi,” JJ added, her voice warm and encouraging.
Hotch hesitated, his usual reservations about such situations wrestling with the unexpected kindness you’d shown. “She probably just feels sorry for the lonely guy in a suit,” he muttered.
“Or maybe she recognizes a handsome man when she sees one. Go on, Aaron,” Rossi pushed, not letting Hotch’s self-doubt win.
With a deep breath, Hotch stood and made his way over to you. He could feel the eyes of his team on his back, their whispers barely masked by their attempts to not make it obvious they were watching.
As he approached, you looked up, your eyes meeting his. “Hi,” he started, feeling unusually out of his element. “I wanted to thank you for the drink.”
You smiled, a genuine, warm smile that made the corners of your eyes crinkle slightly. “You looked more down and out than me, so I figured you could use it more,” you replied, your tone light and friendly.
Hotch chuckled softly, the sound more relaxed than he felt. “That’s very kind of you. Are you also stranded?”
“Yeah, was heading home for Christmas, but it looks like I’m spending it with airport cocktails instead,” you said, gesturing to the chaos outside the window where snow continued to blanket the runway.
“What about you? Any plans ruined by this storm?” you asked, tilting your head slightly, inviting him to share more.
Hotch took a sip of the drink you’d sent him, finding comfort in the simple act. “Trying to get home to my son. He’s expecting Santa and his dad, not necessarily in that order.”
Your expression softened. “He’s lucky to have a dad rushing to get back to him. I’m sure he’ll understand, though. Sometimes things are out of our control.”
Hotch nodded, feeling the truth in your words. He glanced back at the bar where his team was pretending not to watch them. “My team seems to think I should thank you more properly for the drink. They’re... supportive like that.”
Laughing, you glanced over his shoulder at the group waving subtly. “They seem like a good bunch. How about we join forces and make the best of this holiday delay?” you suggested with a playful grin.
Hotch couldn’t help but smile back, feeling an unexpected ease in your company. “That sounds like a plan,” he agreed, his voice carrying a hint of relief.
Together, you walked over to the bar where the team eagerly made space for both of you. Rossi, always quick to turn a stranger into a friend, raised his glass in a welcoming toast. "To unexpected Christmas companions!"
The evening rolled on with laughter and stories exchanged over rounds of drinks. Hotch found himself increasingly drawn to your sense of humor and the easy way you interacted with his team. You shared tales of your own holiday mishaps from previous years, each story more engaging than the last. Hotch reciprocated with anecdotes of his own, each glimpse into his life making you laugh and lean in closer.
As the night deepened and the crowd thinned, you and Hotch found yourselves lingering at the bar long after the others had decided to find a hotel for the night. The din of the airport had mellowed to a soft murmur, and the storm outside seemed less severe when viewed from the warm glow of the bar.
“You know, I never thought I’d find myself hoping a flight would get delayed longer,” Hotch confessed, his eyes locked on yours. “But I’m glad I did tonight.”
You smiled, the light catching your eyes in a way that made his heart skip a beat. “I guess some Christmas surprises come in unexpected packages,” you quipped, nudging his hand with yours on the bar top.
Hotch found himself reaching out, his hand covering yours. “This is definitely one surprise I'm thankful for,” he said, his voice lower now, more intimate.
You didn’t pull away. Instead, you intertwined your fingers with his, the simple act charged with an unspoken promise. “Aaron, if we’re stuck here, might as well make the most of it, right? How about we go for a walk? It might be nice to see the snow without a window between us.”
He hesitated for a fraction of a second—thinking of protocols and proprieties—but then he nodded. “Let’s do that.”
Wrapped up in borrowed airport scarves and coats, you walked together through the near-deserted terminals. The snow outside painted everything in shades of muted silver and white, and the world felt hushed, paused at your shared footsteps.
As you walked, Hotch found himself opening up about more than just work or his son. He talked about his hopes, his past holidays, and even his fears. You listened, offering thoughts and laughter in equal measure, pulling him out of his reserved shell.
Eventually, you stopped at a large window overlooking the tarmac, where the snow was piling up on empty jets. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? How something as simple as snow can change everything,” you mused, leaning against the glass.
“It is,” Hotch agreed, standing close enough to share warmth. He looked down at you, the fluorescent lights of the terminal casting shadows that played across your face. “You know, I think this is the most I’ve relaxed in a long time.”
“That’s what holidays are for, right? Even if they don’t go as planned,” you said, looking up at him with a smile that suggested so much more than casual conversation.
Hotch nodded, lost for a moment in the depth of your gaze. Then, almost without thinking, he leaned down, his voice a whisper. “May I?”
Your answer was to rise slightly on your toes, closing the distance, your lips meeting his in a gentle, tentative kiss that spoke of new beginnings and mutual understanding. It was a kiss that promised more, a kiss that acknowledged the snowstorm outside not as a barrier, but as a backdrop to something unexpected and just as beautiful.
As you both pulled back, breathless from the contact and the emotions it stirred, Hotch knew this Christmas would be one to remember, not for the plans that went awry, but for the unexpected gift of meeting someone who turned a delay into a moment worth savoring.
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Tag List:
@zaddyhotch
@estragos
@todorokishoe24
@looking1016
@khxna
@rousethemouse
@averyhotchner
@reidfile
@bernelflo
@lover-of-books-and-tea
@frickin-bats
@sleepysongbirdsings
@justyourusualash
@person-005
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miya-cs · 2 days ago
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A little courage and good communication.
Reader x Max Verstappen
In which the reader always blames himself for any uncomfortable situation, but is learning to deal with it.
Warnings: none very serious. The reader thinks too much, is a little anxious and pessimistic, but everything works out in the end.
(Yeah, I'm dealing with my traumas through fanfics, my psychologist will never know)
Traduzido do português pelo Google tradutor (tentei revisar, mas, ei, sempre dá alguma coisa errada, desculpe)
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***
Tension fills the Redbull motorhome. Your hands are clenched as you keep your eyes steady, watching the Team employees from one side to the other.
Max has barely spoken to you today. From the morning when he woke up early and came to the garage alone, to the fact that he didn't even come to see you after you arrived.
You see, it's not that you depend on his attention, but… Your anxious mind starts to remember every action you've taken in the last few days, trying to find something in which you could have hurt your boyfriend.
Was it because you didn't wait for him for dinner? But Max himself said you could have dinner because he would be late. Was it because you didn't do anything after he had bad times in free practice? When Max arrived, upset about the race, you didn't even know why, but, as always, he always said everything was fine.
You believed him and left him alone in the room, because you knew he liked that so he could reflect on what he could or couldn't improve in the race. But… he was fine, wasn’t he?
You keep watching. Maybe you could get him a drink? Or maybe just go talk to him and wish him luck in the race? What to do?
You feel your eyes watering, and it irritates you. You’ve always been very sensitive and, due to some situations in the past, you’ve learned to hate that side of you.
Why cry over something so silly? Just because your boyfriend hasn’t paid you any attention all day? What an idiot.
You remember Christian’s words, after Max introduced you to the Team after a few months of dating in private.
“Do you really think she” – his gaze took in yours completely, a little cowering next to Max – “will be able to handle all this? Formula 1 isn’t just a sport, Max, you know that”.
Max vehemently defended you, and so you were made official on Redbull and Max’s Instagram. But, after more than a year together, you wonder if, perhaps, Horner was right.
You take a deep breath, remembering your psychologist's words: the best way to stop thinking too much is to get things straight. Talk. Ask questions. Face it. You're not psychic and not everything you think is correct.
Right.
Your eyes scan the garage again, finding Max on the other side, analyzing some screens with graphs. The grading will start soon and then you'll only be able to talk to him later.
You wonder if it's better to resolve things first. What if something happens and he's still upset? What if he's just waiting for an apology from you?
Finally, you decide to go to Max. Your steps are hesitant, and they get even worse when one of the mechanics points at you, Max's eyes quickly finding you.
He frowns as you approach, noticing your hesitation.
"Is everything okay?"
"Can we talk?" You say, and Max nods, his features serious. You follow him to the corner of the room, away from the noise of the garage and the employees.
“Um, I… I wanted to know if I did something to upset you?” You get straight to the point, knowing Max prefers things that way. “It’s just that you didn’t talk to me right today, and you were acting weird, and I wondered if I did something wrong? If I did, I’m sorry. You know I can be inattentive sometimes and…”
“Schatje,” Max interrupts you. His hands come up to your face, resting on your cheeks as he lifts your gaze to his. “Why the hell would you think you did something wrong? The car has been a mess since the last race last week and I’m trying to improve my time before the race tomorrow. That’s all.”
“Oh…” You blink, his words melting over your mind and washing away all your worries. “So it’s not me?”
Max rolls his eyes, before placing a quick kiss on your lips.
“No, Schatje,” he murmurs, and your shoulders slump as a sigh of relief leaves your lips.
“That’s great,” you smile, and Max can’t resist kissing you once more. “Get back to work then, Maxie. Good luck. I’m sure you’ll still be able to get the best out of your car in qualifying today and in the race tomorrow.”
Your words make him smile. “Have dinner together later?” your boyfriend asks.
“Room service. I don’t want to go out anymore today.” You answer and he just nods, before saying goodbye.
You keep smiling as he walks back to the mechanics. Your therapist would be so proud.
But before her, you were so proud of yourself for having the courage to solve things by talking instead of allowing your mind to create all the worst possible scenarios and suffering for something that only existed there, in your head.
Sometimes, to solve things, all it takes is a little courage and good communication.
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nightmare-of-homophobes · 2 days ago
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You Know You're My Favourite - Avis Amberg X gp!reader
Words: 5,4k (more or less).
Summary: Avis searches for her favourite girl after a fight.
Warnings: porn without plot; NSFW; sub!Avis, Dom!reader; oral (both receiving); penetration (Avis receiving); swearing; use of titles; weird/unconventional power play; light praise kink; breeding kink; mommy kink; rough sex; flirts a lot with BDSM; tits play; implied previous conversations of boundaries; implied internal homophobia; implied unilateral love.
Tag list (those who commented or reblogged on the tag post): @alittlewitchyone @emilynissangtr @greek-freak101 @live-laugh-love-lupone @multixfan @thoroughly--confused @likealayka @thegoddamnfeels @kenzie-floops @amethyst-bitch @acciosoftbroom @missquints @mrsines
Special thanks to the lovely @live-laugh-love-lupone who kindly beta read this for me <3
English isn't my native language, so bare me! I didn't watch more than three episodes of Hollywood and hadn't written gp for a while, so I'm sorry if Avis is too out of character and if the sex is awkward 🥲. This story is based on an ask I received some time ago (I hope this finds you, anon!). I wanted to try something different by mixing the request - sub!Avis - with what I took from the character and from the fanfics I’ve read about her - the power play and titles.
Hope you enjoy it! Xoxo!
(Also, I wrote a good part of this while listening to “Red Wine Supernova” and “Good Luck, Babe!”, kind of mixing the songs to set the vibes to the characters.)
***
It was late and your shift was almost ending. It had been a boring day with no clients for you so you got pretty occupied with pumping gas and cleaning cars all afternoon. 
You were just about to go to the bathroom to change yourself out of your uniform when you heard a car approaching. You got irritated by that, but that slipped off your mind as soon as you recognized the car.
Putting on your best smile, you approached it.
– What a lovely surprise… – you said leaning into the window to look at the ginger woman. You didn't miss how she seemed distressed. – How can I help you, Mrs. Amberg?
– You're taking me to Dreamland.. – she demanded, her tone letting you know she wasn't in the mood for your playfulness.
You nodded quietly.
– I just need to let Ernie know you're taking me out. – you said and went back into the gas stations to do it, returning as quick as you could and entering the car.
She drove off the station in silence, the only sounds between you being the roar of the motor and the background sounds that driving through Hollywood involved. You could practically feel the tension irradiating from her body, so you put a hand on her thigh, slowly drawing patterns close to her knee - not wanting to drive her attention to you at all, but to calm her down a little. It seemed to work since she relaxed a bit.
– Tough day, mama? – you dared to break the silence.
– I don't want to talk about it. – she said, leaving no room for other attempts. 
– What do you want to talk about, then? 
She sighed loudly and you felt bad for pushing her, but she answered anyway:
– What about your career? Have you got any offers lately?
You hummed in confirmation. For some reason, Avis always liked to learn about her lovers and she loved to discover how you wanted to be a professional photographer. You deep down wished she would, one day, pose to you.
– Yeah, I'm covering an event this weekend. – you told her excitedly.
– That's great, what is it? – you told her the name of the event, but it wasn't one from her social circle so she didn't know it. – … But I know you'll do amazing, baby, you always do.
She met your eyes for the first time in the night, a small proud smile on her lips. That made your chest warm. It was good to know you had someone to make proud.
– You're just saying it because you know I'm a sucker for being told I'm doing a good job. – you accused her, earning a chuckle from her.
– You caught me. 
You fell into a very much lighter silence as she drove into the night. You weren't recognising the route she was taking, so you imagined it was somewhere she hadn't taken you yet. When she parked in front of an expensive looking hotel, you were sure you hadn't been there before. Not that she didn't take you to fine places, she did, but that was… Too much, in your opinion.
The parking valets opened the doors of the car for you both and you jumped out of it, feeling a little bit conscious of your clothes. Maybe you should've made Avis wait for you to change it when you were still in the gas station but now it was too late to regret.
Letting the ginger woman lead the way inside the hotel and into an elevator, you were able to relax again when the doors closed and you started to go up to your floor. But your relaxed state didn’t last too long since Avis was needier that night.
Being pressed against one of the walls of the elevator, your lips crashed against her red painted ones, her mouth as demanding as she always liked to portray herself. The kiss was messy and harsh, mirroring Avis mood and making you know exactly how she needed to be treated that night.
Holding onto her waist, you pulled her body flushed against yours, your tongue darting out to try its way into her mouth. As soon as she let it slip past her lips, you started to slowly dismantle her demanding attitude. Avis usually liked to have control over everything happening in her encounters, needing to guide what and how things would go. She tried to do it with you in your first encounters, but she was quick to discover that when it came to you, you simply wouldn't bend over anyone’s power without fighting for it - and that she honestly enjoyed having someone to tell her what to do sometimes.
You could still taste the wine on her tongue, which was another clear sign that something distressful happened and she really needed you to make her forget whatever it was that upset her. You could already piece together what probably happened: one more fight with the powerful Mr. Amberg. You didn't even know the man or had a hint of how he looked, but you despised him the same way. How could a man be married to a woman like Avis and not try to satisfy her?
The elevator’s door rang while opening and you quickly disentangled ourselves. She laughed at you.
– It's fine, doll. I made sure to rent a room on a floor that was empty. – she said, already leaving the elevator.
You laughed at yourself and followed her down the corridor. Your eyes didn't resist falling to her ass, admiring how rounded it was as you watched how her hips swayed as she walked. You couldn't wait to put your hands on it.
As she unlocked the door and pulled you inside the room, you met her halfway, crashing your lips together again as you closed the door with your foot before slamming her against it.
– Hmm, did you miss me that much? – she asked, putting her arms around your neck.
You hid your face on her neck, kissing and sucking it softly.
– No… I'm actually had been very busy fucking some pussies around. – you teased her, knowing how she could get jealous when at your work.
It worked because you heard how she grumply groaned and turned her face to the other side when you tried to kiss her on the cheek.
– Oh, mama, you let me get into your head so easily. – you poked her side. – You know you're my favourite client.
Though you meant those words, they left you with a bitter taste on the tongue. You had a strict rule of trying to not get attached to your regular clients, but sometimes you would get yourself wondering how it would be to be something else than just a prostitute to Avis. Something more.
But of course you would never speak those desires out loud. No. She was married and you were both women. And, in the end, she only saw you as a passing fun. Someone she could get distracted with when her true life got tough.
– You're distracted today… – she called your attention, making you snap out of your thoughts. She frowned. – What's in your head?
You let a peck on her lips, diverting her attention.
– Nothing at all. – you brushed off the topic. Letting your hands fall to her butt, you gave it a playful squeeze. – Now… What about going to prepare yourself for me? – you asked against her lips before leaning to her ear again. – I'm so hungry, mama…
You heard how her breath hitched and felt how her hands buried themselves into your hair. Leaning back to look at her, you saw how her eyes had darkened. You always loved to watch her eyes. Especially when she was under you trying so hard to keep them open while cumming around your cock.
Leaving your embrace, Avis went to the double doors in one of the walls of the living room (that you only noticed once she approached because you were too busy paying attention to her before), opened it and disappeared inside of it. The bed was probably inside those doors. You heard another one being opened before the shower was turned on.
She always liked to dress up on encounters like that, but she liked to be extra clean and use her fanciest gowns and lingerie for you. She was sold for compliments and you suspected that was a thing for her.
Trying to busy yourself, you poured down two drinks, swallowing yours in one go.
You hadn't to wait too long before you heard heels clicking on the floor and arms flew around you to embrace your body tightly.
– Do you want a drink? – you asked softly, enjoying how she cupped your breasts and kissed the back of your neck.
– Right now I just want to drink whatever comes out of you. – she answered, sending shivers down your spine.
– I can arrange that. – turning on her arms, you started to undo your belt, feeling how she was getting impatient. 
Drinking the shot of whiskey you had poured for her, you swallowed a little before bringing your lips closer to hers. She quickly accepted it, opening her mouth so you could spill the drink into it. Of course that wasn't what she meant, but she wouldn't deny you.
Kissing down her cheek and her jaw, you buried your face back on her neck, your hands found the knot of her robe to untie it. She was smelling so good you wanted to wrap yourself around her and never leave.
– I like this colour on you… – you muttered against her skin, hearing her whimper softly. – But unfortunately I need this off.
Letting it slide off her shoulders, it was your turn to lose your breath.
– Did you like it, baby? – she asked with a sultry smile and tone, faking innocence. She knew you liked it. Actually, she could feel just how much you liked it.
There, standing confidently in front of you, she was wearing a red corset that hugged her curves perfectly, but that wasn’t all. Your eyes ranked up her legs, admiring the black long socks attached to something underneath the corset - probably a, also black, garter belt. Finally, your eyes met what you considered to be the cherry on top: lace black panties that left so little for your imagination.
You ran your fingers over the details of the corset, your mind already picturing how it would be to take it out of her later. The rest would stay in place, it wouldn’t bother you.
– I loved it. – you said, playing with her garters. – And because of it I’ll let you pick what we’re doing first. What do you want baby to do? – you asked, pulling her hips closer so one of your knees was placed between her legs.
Under your intent gaze, Avis squirmed. She enjoyed your attention so much. Starting to undo the buttons of your white shirt, she asked:
– You mentioned being hungry, right? 
You laughed and helped her to get yourself undressed. Once you got rid of your shirt, tie and shorts, your hands returned to her hips, starting to push her in the direction of the couch, you made her sit down. She made mention of untying the garters but you pulled her hands off it harshly.
– None of it, I didn't ask you to take it off. – you reprimanded her while kneeling on the floor.
– I don't need your permission… – she said under her breath and lifted her hips towards you.
One of your eyebrows shot up as you looked at her. So she was naughty tonight? How bad.
– Are you looking to be punished, mama? – you asked severely. – You know how long I can keep you on edge.
She seemed to fight her pride and own words before looking away and muttering:
– I'm sorry.
– That's better. – you tapped the side of her thigh, satisfied. – Now where were we…
You spread her legs, starting to kiss the insides of her legs and massaging her feet while doing it. She loved receiving a good massage. 
– Yes… – she sighed, opening her legs even more, if it was possible.
Her skin was smelling so sweet and her socks brushing against your bare skin were so soft that you were feeling yourself getting hard faster than usual. Avis would certainly drive you mad anyday.
– Baby, please… – she whined, her hips bucking in the air, asking to be touched. – Please, Mama's so hot…
Complying with her requests, you brought your lips higher, your fingers cleverly finding her panties and pushing them to the side. You licked from her entrance to her clit, feeling how she clenched and how the foot you were still holding curled into your hand.
Bringing your hands to her hips, you pulled her further to the edge of the couch, placing her legs over your shoulders.
– Look at this, mama.  – you breathed against her core, letting soft kisses all over her mound and playfully sucking at her bundle of nerves, feeling her squirm and moan shakily. – Your pink hole is so wet for me already, I bet I could slip inside right now without any trouble… – you fully slid your index finger into her fluffy folds as if to prove your point to her. – See?
– God… – she groaned and you could feel how her hands were clutching at the couch on your sides. She could feel your finger searching for her weak spot, scratching her walls sweetly in its path.
You were steadily letting kitten licks on her clit, your finger caressing her point over and over again, reducing her to a pathetic moaning mess. When you started to suck her, her hands flew to your head, holding you impossibly closer.
– Fuck! Yes! – she rolled her hips against your mouth, starting to ride your face in chase of her orgasm.
You let her do it while adding another finger inside her, scissoring and opening her so you could replace it with your tongue later. 
– Hmm… Mama, you’re taking me so well. – you complimented her, your voice sending vibrations against her clit, making her grind harder against you. 
Her moans were louder with each thrust of your fingers, every rub of her clit against your tongue making her legs twitch and her hole clench around your fingers. You knew she was so close and you were loving it. Satisfied with the stretching, you finally slipped your tongue inside her, tasting her flavor straight from the source. 
Her grip on your hair tightened, her thighs creating a fluffy - and strong - cage as they closed around your head. A loud, obscene moan left her lips, her whole body losing control as she reached her orgasm.
– Ah, baby! Fuck! Fuck! – she cried out.
Her walls were tightening so hard around your tongue it was practically expelling you from inside her and you couldn’t help but whimper at that. Staying still, you let her use your mouth to ride her orgasm.
You caressed her thighs all the while, soothing her and waiting for her to calm down. It didn’t take her long before you could finally free yourself from her legs, resting your head on her thigh as you had done before. You looked up at her with what you knew were your loving eyes.
– Everything alright, mama? – you asked as she panted, her chest rising and falling heavily. 
All you received from her was a soft groan, her eyes shut tightly. Getting up from the floor, you sat on her lap, drawing her attention back to you. 
– I’m fine. – she said dreamingly, opening her eyes to meet yours. 
– That’s good… – you said and leaned to kiss her.
She welcomed your mouth with her tongue, more than willing to taste herself on yours, moaning at it.
– Can you taste how sweet you are, mama? – you mumbled against her lips, making sure to press your tongue down at hers, wanting her to commit her own taste to her memory.
The kiss was heated and messy and you didn’t even notice when you started to roll your hips on hers, brushing your covered erection against her corset, missing the feeling of her chubby belly. You liked the corset, it was pretty, but you liked even more to have her breasts and tummy on display.
– Stand up, let me take this thing from you. – you panted against her lips, getting off her lap to sit beside her.
She did it and you pulled her down on your lap, moaning at the feeling of her ass hugging your dick perfectly. She rubbed her ass over you playfully, earning a quick slap on her right buttcheek, which made her quiet down.
Starting to open her corset, you took the opportunity to also undo her complex updo. She usually didn’t let you do it, since it took time to put her hair back in place, but you didn’t think she was planning going anywhere or returning home that night. As you finished with the corset and brushed her hair with your fingers, admiring its redness, you made no effort to resist reaching around her body and taking her big boobies into your hands, loving their weight and softness. The sigh she let out told you how relieved she was to get rid of the corset.
– Feeling better, Mama? – you asked while playing with her breasts, squeezing them and rubbing her nipples to get them hard.
She only hummed in answer, her ass not staying still on your lap, teasing you as much as you were teasing her. You kissed your way to the back of her neck, biting down hard on the skin there, making her squirm and whimper above you, her hands reaching up to hold yours in place. You pinched her nipples and flicked it on your fingers, making her breath get elaborated again.
– Baby, please! – she finally gave up, understanding you wouldn’t take any action if she didn’t beg. – Please, I need you… – she tried to push one of your hands down to her pussy but you prevented her from doing so. – Please, I need you inside me so fucking bad!
Reaching to her neck instead of between her legs, you held it and squeezed it weakly, pulling her towards you until her head was on your shoulder.
– You know what to do if you need my cock that much. – you said against her ear, enjoying how her desperate eyes found yours. Such beautiful eyes.
You smirk down at her and bite her ear softly.
Sliding down from your lap, she got on her knees before you, her hands fumbling with your tight underwear while letting mouth-opened kisses on your erection through the cloth. She looked so sexy doing that.
– Aren’t you forgetting anything, mama? – you asked and she looked up at you confused. You gestured for her to keep eye contact and she nodded.
Letting her take control of that small moment, you leaned back on the couch helping her to take off your underwear by raising your hips. She bit her lips at the sight of your cock on display.
– See how excited I get everytime you come to see me, mama? – you asked, running a finger on her lower lip before slipping it inside her mouth, watching how she accepted it, sucking it into her mouth.
Bringing her closer by her chin, you let her replace your fingers with your cock, sighing heavily at the velvety and warm sensation of her mouth around you.
– That's it, mama… – you hold her head, not leading her, just letting it rest there. – Take it all inside.
She obeyed, bit by bit taking all your length into her mouth, not having any trouble. The idea of her being so used to doing that kind of turned you on. Between the two of you, you might have been the prostitute, but she was definitely the slut.
You moaned as she bobbed her head up and down a few times before returning to your head, sliding her tongue against your slit.
– Fuck, mama... – you bite your lower lip, your free hand going to your tits to play with them. – You know exactly what to do to make me lose control.
You groaned when she sucked the head, her cheeks hollowing as she did and her eyes searching your reactions through heavy lids and battling of lashes. That woman would certainly kill you one day.
Letting her work her magic on your cock, you took that moment to just enjoy the pleasure she was giving you, focusing on your sensations as soft groans and moans kept falling from your lips, your chest heavy and heart racing as you watched how she switched between sucking your cock and teasing the slit at the tip or sucking your balls while jerking you, all the while never breaking eye contact.
– You're doing so fucking good… – you panted as your release started building, your dick throbbing into her mouth. You almost came when, in one go, she put all your length deep inside her mouth, the tip reaching the back of her throat. – Fuck!
You held her head in place, closing your eyes at the intensity of the wave of pleasure that teased you, unaware of how she also closed her eyes, moaning around you and sending another wave through you. She always found it so hot when you were rough with her and she could feel her arousal sliding down her thighs, her pussy aching to be filled again as she made her best to not gag around you. You released your grip on her.
– Keep going, I'm so close. – you gasped.
With that, she doubled her efforts, your hips bucking to meet her meet her mouth halfway, your cock brushing the back of her throat at every damn thrust. A strain of swears were falling from your lips and, when you finally couldn't help it anymore, your hand hooked into her hair and you harshly set the rhythm you wanted, making her choke sometimes while supporting herself on your thighs, trying to relax her jaw the most as she let you fuck her mouth. She knew her throat would be on fire the next day but she didn't care. She would never stop you from doing what you wanted to her. 
She was exactly where she wanted, receiving exactly what she needed.
With a final rough thrust up, you held her still, cock buried impossibly deep inside her as she fought the urge to push you off her so she could breathe. When she couldn't take it anymore, she patted your thighs and you let her go while growling through your orgasm, your seed spilling from her throat to her face since she couldn't hold your dick down her throat for so long. 
Both of you were breathing heavily for totally different reasons.
– Sorry. – you apologized as soon as you got enough air to do it.
Her head was resting on your hip, her hair in all directions. Her face was flushed and painted with your cum while her lips were swollen and her cheeks had stains of tears. She was a fucking mess.
– It's okay, doll… – she muttered raspy, her chest rising and falling in quick puffs as she still was trying to calm herself down. – You know I like it.
Gentler than you were before, you ran your hand through her hair, putting it a bit back in place, not because you were finished with her, but because you wanted to bring her some tenderness after such roughness. You waited until she was ready to keep going.
Watching her standing up, you stood too, catching her lips into your in a soft, caring kiss.
– You know we can stop at any moment, right? – you reminded her in a whisper.
– I want to continue. – she reassured you. You nodded.
Taking her by the hand, you led her to those double doors, entering it to find your way to the bed. It was very large and fit the luxury of the place.
– Get on the bed. I'm gonna get another drink. – you said while caressing her back.
As she moved to do so, you returned to the other room, pouring you a drink while you still felt cloudy from your previous orgasm. Something strong like whisky would definitely help, you thought to yourself. Yet, it wasn't the whisky at all that snapped you from your current state of mind, but the vision of your tie lying in a corner of the room. An idea popping into your head.
Drinking the liquid in one go, you walked over and picked up the tie, returning to Avis immediately.
You weren't waiting to find her on her fours on the bed, waiting for you with her ass high in the air and face buried in the sheets. All the while she was touching herself, two fingers deep inside her drenched pussy.
That pissed you off.
– I didn't say you could touch yourself! – you exclaimed as you reached over and pulled her fingers out of her harshly. –You’re really looking for that punishment, lady!
You turned her over so you could pin her down, you face hovering over hers as you angrily asked:
–Now choose… – you lifted the tie. – Hands or eyes?
She didn't miss a beat before answering:
– Eyes. – she could bear not being able to see, but being restrained was a torture for her.
You grimaced at her answer, an unsatisfied expression on your face. 
– You don't deserve it. – you said. – Mama has been acting very bad.
You flipped her over again, using your weight to hold her still as she fought you and your decision to tie her hands instead. As you finished, you leaned and growled on her ear: 
– You will learn how to please your baby!
Getting off her, you helped her to return to her previous position: ass on the air and face buried in the sheets. Aligning your dick with her entrance, you entered at once, knowing that she was more than prepared after so much teasing. She moaned unashamed at that, ass moving to meet your hips halfway.
– Yesss… – the word lingered on her tongue, turning into a hissing as you slapped her ass once more.
Settling a steady rhythm of thrusts, you watched, hypnotized, how her pussy took your cock so well, as it was designed especially for you. A soft and warm place for your dick to rest and empty itself.
Oh, that was another great idea. You would adore to cum inside Avis again and again until she was filled and carrying your seed deep inside her.
Keeping to fuck her in that slow and steady rhythm, you knew exactly what you were doing to her: making her lose her mind again. It wouldn't take long until she was pathetically begging again, her brain melting from having what she wanted from the start but it not being enough to satisfy her.
And you were right, it didn't take long.
Once she realised you had no intention in changing your pace, she cried out muffled:
– Baby, please… – she tried to fuck herself against you, but reaceived another harsh slap. – Mama is so sorry, please… She won't do that again… Please, please, please… Mama will do anything baby wants her to do, promise… – her whimpers keep going, but you already have heard the words you wanted to hear so you leaned into her again, one hand getting tangled in her hair again.
– Anything, mama? – you asked and, to provoke her, you gave a particularly rough thrust. Just the way she liked.
– Yes! Fuck, yes, please… – she cried.
Your free hand winding its way through her body until it finds her clit, rubbing it in tight circles, enjoying how she gasped and moaned even louder.
– Do you know what I would love, mama? – you kept whispering against her ear. – To have you carrying my babies… – a soft “yes” came as an answer and you closed your eyes. – Wouldn't it be lovely, mama? Me buried deep inside you? Feeling you so good? Spilling all my seed so mama could take it in her perfect body for me? It would make me so happy, mama… 
Hearing her confirm every question you made her was an otherworldly experience, but the words that set you wild were those who came from her lips in sequence of that:
– Please, love, give me your babies… I'll carry your babies, please…
Pushing her face against the mattress harder and holding onto her tied hands, you started slamming into her, the sounds of your skins meeting each other extremely obscene. You were panting and whimpering, lost in Avis body as you finally gave her what she was so pleased to beg for, her moans fully turning into screams of pleasure now, her hands twitching and trying desperately to free themselves from the tie while her toes curled and she bit the sheets to muffle her sounds.
Every thrust of yours sent her higher on her from the force you were using to fuck her, almost as if trying to forge your bodies together, so it was a good thing you were keeping a good hold on her, otherwise her head would be banging against the headboard.
When she started clenching painfully around your cock, you knew she was close to her orgasm. You were too. Flipping your positions, you laid on bed and pulled her above you, untying her hands so she could support herself to ride you. 
– Yes! Yes! Gimme your babies, yes! – she kept exclaiming as she bounced hard up and down the entirety of your length, seeming to want as bad as you to bury your cock deep inside her. – Fuck, yes, mama feels so good! Mama is gonna cum!
You helped her to bounce, supporting her hips and meeting them with yours halfway as well, wanting to make her cum again. 
Sitting down on the bed, you held her hips down, burying yourself inside her while helping her to grind on you, one of your hands searching for her clit to send her over the edge. You were feeling goosebumps all over your body and it was becoming harder to fight your orgasm.
– Cum for me, mama, please. – you asked and, lowering your head to her chest, you caught one of her lips into your feverish mouth, sucking it hungrily.
That was enough and, with her orgasm finally washing over her, she stopped her movements, her entire body tensing up.  Being squeezed like that, you didn't even try to resist your own orgasm, spilling yourself inside her body as a guttural moan escaped from the back of your throat.
Both of you stayed still, practically breathing each other's air as you panted with your foreheads pressed together. For a long moment, none of you dared to move, both sensible to touch and still feeling the aftershocks of your blissful orgasms. Finally, you turned her again on the bed and slipped out of her, both of you moaning from the loss of the sensation.
You watched how your seed spilled out of her mistreated hole once you were out. You weren't preoccupied with coming inside her. She was past her fertile age and you were infertile, so there was no risk at all.
Laying beside her, you welcomed her into your arms.
– Feeling better? – asked softly, running your fingers through her hair and kissing the top of her head, your eyes were feeling so heavy.
– Much better. – she said and yawned.
– Go to sleep. – you told her, knowing that all would end very soon.
Soon she would have to return to her husband and you to your clients. Soon she would pretend that all those nights with you were nothing more than usual fun, even though both of you know she had stopped seeking other prostitutes after finding you. Stopped seeking men.
And you, well, soon you would have to pretend that you didn't let her affect you. That you didn't let yourself hope that, one day, she would need more than just sex. And, certainly, that you didn't caught yourself thinking of her when fucking others or wishing she would accept what the nature of your encounters were saying about her.
– Good night, doll. – she said sleepily.
– Good night, Avis. – you answered, kissing her head once again.
You knew she would have already left you when you woke up the next morning.
.
.
.
.
Comments are very appreciated because I'm a sucker for validation!
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mattsobvimyfav · 19 hours ago
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roommate (matthew sturniolo)
pt 20-
I led Matt upstairs to my room, the faint glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light over the space.
I handed him a pair of my dad’s old sweatpants and a hoodie, figuring he’d be more comfortable in something other than his jeans and shirt. “Here,” I said.
“Thanks,” Matt replied, she started to slip out of his close and i caught myself in a trance staring at him as he took his shirt off. I quickly snapped out of it grabbing my own pajamas—a loose T-shirt and a pair of shorts, i finished changing and got into my bed, pulling the covers over me.
Matt turned to me as I took in his appearance, his hair slightly messy from pulling the hoodie on. He smiled as he walked over to the bed. “Alright, where do you want me?” he teased.
I rolled my eyes. “Just get in, dickhead,” I said, patting the spot next to me. He climbed in, and we both settled under the blankets, the room growing quiet except for the sound of our breathing.
It didn’t take long for Matt to shift closer, his arm slipping around my waist. “You good?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I replied, though my heart was racing.
He leaned in, his lips brushing mine softly at first, then with more purpose. I kissed him back, melting into the moment as his hand slid up my side. My skin tingled under his touch, and for a second, I let myself get lost in it. But then his hand dipped lower, brushing the hem of my shorts, and reality hit me like a freight train.
I pulled back abruptly, sitting up and pushing his hand away. “Matt, no,” I said, my voice shaky but firm.
He looked at me, confused and slightly hurt. “What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting up as well.
I swallowed hard, trying to gather my thoughts. “I can’t… I can’t do this, Matt. Not yet,” I said, looking down at my hands.
“Why not?” he asked softly, his tone more curious than frustrated.
I looked up at him, my eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Because I don’t trust you,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
His expression shifted, a mix of guilt and regret crossing his face. “Y/N…” he started, but I shook my head.
“You told me I was a mistake, Matt,” I said, my voice breaking. “You can’t just say something like that and expect me to forget it. I’ve been trying to, but it still hurts. And now, with everything that’s happened… I just don’t know if I can trust you”
Matt ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply. “I know I screwed up,” he said quietly. “And I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am. I didn’t mean it when I said that. I was just scared and being stupid. But I promise, I wouldn’t do that to you again. I care about you.”
I looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes almost breaking me. “I want to believe you, Matt,” I said, my voice trembling. “But I need time. I need to feel like I can trust you completely before we take things any further.”
He nodded slowly, reaching out to take my hand. “I’ll wait as long as you need,” he said softly. “I’m all in if you’ll let me be..”
“Really?,” I whispered, confused at what he meant.
“Yes y/n. I’ll stop. all the girls. All the hook ups. Just us.” He looked into my eyes and for the first time I actually believed him.
We laid back down, Matt wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled my back into his chest. I let my thoughts wonder about what it would be like to give Matt a real chance and see if he could truly change after I drifted off to sleep.
My eyes blinked open slowly, and I realized Matt’s arm was slung across my waist, his face buried in the pillow beside mine. His even breaths tickled my neck, and I smiled softly at the peaceful expression on his face.
Last night’s conversation played through my mind, The breakthrough we’d had, the honesty, the vulnerability—it felt good. It felt real.
Matt shifted slightly, his eyes fluttering open. When he noticed me watching him, a sleepy grin spread across his face. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice gravelly from sleep.
“Morning,” I replied, feeling warmth bloom in my chest.
He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. “How’d you sleep?” he asked, his hand brushing a strand of hair from my face.
“Better than I have in a while,” I admitted, my smile widening.
“Good,” he said, stretching his arms above his head before sitting up. “Smells like something’s cooking downstairs.”
I sniffed the air, the faint scent of bacon and coffee wafting into the room. My eyes lit up. “Dad must be making breakfast.”
We both got out of bed and quickly threw on some comfy clothes before heading downstairs. Sure enough, my dad was in the kitchen, flipping pancakes while the radio played softly in the background. He looked up when he saw us and grinned.
“Good morning, kids,” he greeted, gesturing toward the table where plates of bacon, eggs, and fresh fruit were already laid out. “I figured I’d make a proper breakfast since we’ve got company.”
Matt beamed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks, Mr. Y/L/N. It smells amazing.”.
We sat down at the table, and Matt immediately started piling food onto his plate. “Your dad’s already winning major points,” he whispered to me, making me laugh.
“Yeah, he’s the best,” I said, my heart swelling with affection as I watched my dad work.
When my dad finally joined us at the table, the three of us fell into easy conversation. Matt told my dad some funny stories about college life, and my dad shared a few embarrassing tales from when I was a kid, much to my dismay. Matt laughed so hard he nearly choked on his coffee, and despite my protests, I couldn’t help but smile at how natural it all felt.
As breakfast wound down, my dad clapped Matt on the shoulder. “You’re welcome here anytime, kid,” he said warmly.
“Thank you. That means a lot,” Matt replied, his sincerity evident.
I glanced between the two of them, my heart full as I realized just how lucky I was. This was what I’d been missing—these simple, happy moments.
After breakfast, Matt and I headed back upstairs. As I rummaged through my bag for an outfit, Matt leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching me with a lazy smile.
“You still up for Black Friday shopping?” he asked.
“Of course,” I said, pulling out a pair of black leggings and my favorite oversized hoodie. “Just promise not to ditch me if it gets too crazy.”
He laughed. “Deal. Though I’m pretty sure you could hold your own in a shopping brawl.”
I smirked, tossing my Uggs onto the bed. “You’d be surprised.”
After slipping into my outfit, I brushed my hair into a sleek ponytail and dabbed on some tinted moisturizer. Matt gave me an approving nod as I threw my bag over my shoulder.
“Perfect,” he said, grabbing his keys. “Let’s go.”
The drive to Matt’s house was quick and quiet, the town still buzzing from Thanksgiving festivities. Nick was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone, while Justin was in the kitchen, pouring himself a coffee.
“I’m gonna head upstairs and change,” Matt said, tossing his keys onto the counter. “You good here?”
“Yeah, go ahead,” I said, waving him off.
I wandered into the living room, where Justin had settled onto one of the armchairs with his coffee. He looked up and gave me a grin.
“Y/N,” he said, setting his mug down. “Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon.”
“Yeah, Matt roped me into Black Friday shopping,” I said with a laugh, sitting down across from him.
Justin raised an eyebrow. “Brave of you. Matt’s got no patience for crowds.”
“I’ll survive,” I joked. “How have you been?”
We fell into easy conversation, talking about everything from school to his latest projects. Justin’s laid-back demeanor was infectious, and I found myself laughing more than I had in weeks.
Matt came bounding down the stairs, now dressed in a flannel shirt and jeans. “Ready to go?” he asked, grabbing his wallet off the counter.
“Yup,” I said, standing up.
Justin gave me a knowing look as we headed for the door. “Good luck,” he called out, grinning.
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling as Matt held the door open for me.
Matt and I spent the entire day navigating the Black Friday madness, though surprisingly, the crowds weren’t as bad as I’d expected. We started at the mall, where every store seemed to have a massive “50% Off” sign in the windows.
The first store we went into was a shoe store. Matt immediately gravitated toward the Ugg section, spotting a pair of chocolate brown Ultra Minis that caught his attention.
“These are cute,” he said, holding them up.
“They are,” I agreed, but when he walked up to the cashier with them, I nearly lost it. “Matt, no. I don’t need new Uggs!”
“They’re half off,” he said with a shrug, ignoring my protests.
“But I already have a pair!”
“Yeah, and now you’ll have two.” He handed over his card before I could argue further.
I groaned but couldn’t help the small smile on my face. “You’re impossible.”
He just grinned and handed me the bag. “Merry early Christmas.” He kissed my cheek and I couldn’t help but blush.
After leaving the shoe store, we focused on getting gifts for our parents. At a cozy boutique, I found a padigonia sweatshirt that was perfect for my dad. Matt picked out a sleek leather wallet for Jimmy and a set of fancy coffee mugs for Mary Lou.
At one point, we stopped in a home goods store, where Matt dragged me over to the holiday display.
“Do you think my mom would like this?” he asked, holding up a set of Christmas-themed dish towels.
I laughed. “I think she’d appreciate the thought, but let’s find something a little more her style.”
By the time we finished, we had bags filled with thoughtful gifts for everyone.
We had gone too about five different stores in total, from clothing boutiques to a sporting goods store where Matt found something for Justin.
At one point, as we were walking through the mall, I nudged him. “You know, for someone who claims to hate shopping, you’re pretty into this.”
He laughed. “I don’t hate shopping, I hate waiting and people. There’s a difference.”
After hours of walking, we took a break in the food court, sharing a giant pretzel and some lemonade. Matt insisted on dipping the pretzel in cheese, while I stuck with mustard.
“You’re missing out,” he teased, holding up a cheese-drenched piece.
“I’ll survive,” I shot back with a grin.
By the time we finished, the trunk of Matt’s car was packed with bags, and we were both exhausted. On the drive back, I leaned my head against his shoulder.
“Thanks for everything today,” I said softly, glancing at him.
He looked over briefly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Anytime. We have to get back for the video though. We are reading fanfictions about ourselves and your judging them”
My eyes widened and I started laughing “I’m going to read them about you in my free time” I winked at him
“I know, your obsessed with me.” He clapped back.
A couple of hours later, I found myself squished into the back seat of Matt’s car next to Nick, his phone already in hand as he searched for fanfics. Matt was in the driver’s seat, adjusting the camera angle on the dashboard, while Chris sat in the passenger seat, looking less than thrilled about what was about to unfold.
“Nick, this is a bad idea,” Chris groaned, throwing his head back against the seat.
“Bad ideas make great content,” Nick said with a grin, turning his phone to show me the first story. “Ready, Y/N?”
“Oh, I’m ready,” I said, smirking.
Matt glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “Don’t let him corrupt you. These are going to be awful.”
“That’s the point,” I replied with a laugh, Matt his the record button.
Nick started dramatically: “Matt was in the library, headphones on, lost in his music. He didn’t notice her at first, the girl with the messy bun and oversized sweater, until she dropped her books. He rushed to help her, their hands brushing as they reached for the same book. ‘Sorry,’ she said, her cheeks pink. Matt froze. He’d never seen anyone so beautiful.”
Chris immediately burst out laughing. “Matt? In a library? I don’t buy it.”
Matt shook his head, covering his face. “I can’t believe people think I’m this smooth.”
“You are baby trust me” I winked at Matt causing him to smirk at me in the rear view.
Nick continued, grinning. “‘I, uh… like your sweater,’ Matt stammered. She smiled, and his heart skipped a beat.’”
“Okay, okay, pause,” I interrupted, laughing. “This gets a 5/10. Cute, but way too unrealistic. No way Matt’s heart skips a beat over a sweater.”
Matt turned in his seat to look at me. “Maybe it was you wearing the sweater.”
Nick pulled up another one and started reading. “Chris had seen her before, the girl who lived in the apartment next door. She always left her door open just enough for the scent of cookies to waft through the hallway. One night, he knocked on her door, pretending to need sugar. When she smiled at him, holding out a bowl, he thought, ‘This might be the sweetest face I’ve ever seen.’”
Matt snorted. “Chris, cookies? Really?”
Chris groaned. “This is so dumb. Why am I the guy knocking on someone’s door?”
Nick kept reading, barely holding back his laughter. “‘You should come by sometime,’ she said shyly. Chris found himself grinning like an idiot. ‘Yeah,’ he replied. ‘Maybe I will.’”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, I’ll give this one a 6/10 for effort, but She should not be just leaving her door open.”
Chris turned around to look at me. “Very true”
Nick smirked as he opened the last fanfic. “Alright, this one’s spicy. It’s a love triangle with Matt and Chris both falling for the same girl.”
“Oh, God,” Matt muttered.
Nick began: “‘She was unlike anyone Matt had ever met. Smart, funny, and completely unbothered by his antics. Chris, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about her smile. One night at a party, Matt cornered Chris in the kitchen. ‘Stay away from her,’ Matt growled. Chris smirked. ‘You’re just mad because she likes me more.’”
Chris groaned loudly, throwing his hands up. “God y/n they wrote a whole fanfic about you” Nick started hysterically laughing.
I couldn’t stop laughing. “Woah watch it. This one gets a 9/10. The tension is hilarious.”
Matt shook his head, trying not to laugh. “This is so dumb.”
“But entertaining,” I said, still grinning.
By the time Nick finished, my cheeks hurt from laughing. “Alright, guys, that’s it for today,” Nick said into the camera. “Make sure to like, comment, and subscribe. And keep sending these fanfics, because they’re pure gold.”
Matt turned off the camera, sighing. “I don’t know why we let you do this.”
“Because it’s funny,” I said, nudging Nick.
Chris leaned back in his seat. “Yeah, funny for you. Embarrassing for us.”
Nick shrugged. “That’s the price of content.”
As we sat in the car, still laughing from the ridiculous fanfics, I pulled out my phone and typed out a message to Matt.
Y/N: Wanna have another sleepover?
I hit send and glanced up, catching Matt’s subtle smirk through the rearview mirror. He pulled his phone out of the cupholder, glanced at the screen, and his smirk grew wider.
He texted back quickly:
Matt: Say less.
I bit back a smile, locking my phone as Nick and Chris kept debating over which fanfic was the most cringe-worthy.
“Alright, guys,” Matt announced, putting the car into drive. “I’m dropping you two off at home first.”
Nick whipped his head toward Matt. “What? Why? I thought we were hanging out?”
“Change of plans,” Matt said nonchalantly, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
Chris narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “What’s the real reason, huh?”
Matt shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. “No real reason. Just figured you two could use some rest.”
Nick groaned. “Fine.”
Chris crossed his arms, mumbling under his breath. “Whatever.”
I leaned back in my seat, hiding my smile as the car filled with more playful bickering. Matt met my eyes briefly through the mirror, his expression unreadable but soft in a way that made my stomach flip.
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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 9 hours ago
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gen ; 871 words of pure complete caleb fluff for my personal comfort because i can't get this man out of my head (wow roxie posting fluff? girl what happened to you)
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to be loved is to be seen.
a long day passed; he's there at the door. you can smell something simmering from the kitchen, the scent of comfort filling the room and maybe getting to your head a little... it's your favorite dish. you'd know that smell anywhere. and you've always liked it best when he cooks it...
he knows that.
to be loved is to be seen.
and he's pulling you in by the waist, not quite a hug, but rather a little bit of a once-over as he leans back to take a good look at you.
there's a pause.
the look in his eyes is gentle; fond. his head tilts, and there's something unsaid, unspoken, in the air between you...
you know the words on his lips before he says them.
"look at you, all pretty like that."
it's quiet, with a little bit of a chuckle.
"welcome back, pipsqueak."
typical caleb.
and this time there's a kiss on the tip of your nose, before he reaches a hand up to fix your hair— there's a piece of snow settled into it, and he knows that you don't like that. he'd brush it out for you, leave your hair neatly.
just the way you prefer it to be.
to be loved is to be seen.
and he knows more than you think.
you're an open book to him; maybe it's scary, and maybe it's a little unnerving, but—
maybe it's nice.
no words need to be shared.
he's happy to keep his arm around you, happy to wrap you up in blankets as you snuggle together on the couch and your favorite movie is playing softly on the screen in front of you. it's snowing outside, but you barely notice it; barely care. he keeps you warm from the cold. it's cozy. your head rests on his shoulder, and he hums quietly into your hair—and it's nice.
"it's been a long day," you murmur.
you blow your hair out from your face, and he fixes it right then for you. neat; the way you like it to be.
"oh, yeah? i could tell," he says. he chuckles—a little bit of a nudge in the form of a joke.
but he smiles.
"tell me about it, pipsqueak. i wanna listen."
to be loved is to be seen.
and maybe you scoff at him, but maybe you speak as he inclines. and maybe the movie's drowned out in the background, maybe all that you care about is the soft rumble of his chest when he laughs at the stupidest joke you've ever made in your life...
because deflect with humor, right? you've always done that. and he laughs, because you want him to laugh. and he reaches up to flick at your forehead. because he knows.
"you can be serious about it if you wanna, y'know," he shakes his head. "don't always gotta put on a strong front, 'specially not with me. so hit me. i'll take you seriously."
i'll take you seriously.
a safe space.
and they're simple words, because maybe you're not used to expressing yourself—
but he knows that.
he's used to it.
and he'll push you, a little, and you trust him to.
he knows that, too.
to be loved is to be seen.
and caleb knows a lot of things—what gets you angry, what gets you sad... the things you do to distract yourself, the things you like to eat. what makes you happy. when you're happy. your favorite show, your favorite song... that one article of clothing you'd always wear if you could, that book you keep on your shelf because the cover looks nice, but you haven't gotten around to reading it yet.
and he knows when you're tired.
he knows when all you need is for him to be there beside you, he knows when you've got something to say but you don't know how to say it.
he knows when you're pretending, too. when you want someone to breakthrough that little shell of yours, and say the words you want desperately to hear...
he knows.
because he sees you.
he sees you more than anyone else has, more than anyone else does. and not just with his eyes—with his heart. he knows you. he's engraved every little thing about you into the depths of his soul and he wouldn't have it any other way, not when he can hold you like this.
not when he knows how to.
not when he knows you want it to be this way.
and it's why he has his fingers running gently through your hair, peppering soft, tiny little kisses all over your face and relishing in the giggles that fall from your lips...
to be loved is to be seen.
"i love you, pipsqueak."
a soft murmur, a kiss into your hair.
"i love you a whole lot."
he knows you needed to hear that today, too.
and he means it.
because maybe there's no one else who could love you the way that he does; so whole, so loving, so pure, so... real.
you know that, too.
to be loved is to be seen.
and he sees you, and you see him.
to you, there's no greater love than that.
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an : you know, real talk......... i really am truly sorry that the nuance of the caleb/mc relationship can't be translated into more western cultures that aren't used to this, i do believe it's kind of a shame 😭 because you have to understand that it's such a beautiful thing to be seen.... and i really feel that caleb encapsulates that especially given the nature of their relationship :( just. there's something so beautiful and comforting and warm about it and i had to get this out of my system before i go to bed 😭 MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE 😭
taglist : @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valyvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @chemiru @ywnzn @pepprrmint @angel-jupiter @cordidy @raiyuxa @xai-mery @radiantbrilliance @pikachuzhc @interstellar-inn @pixelcafe-network @hunters-association ++ also obligatorily tagging @unluckywisher (love u)
© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.
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