silversprings-mp3

[silversprings-mp3]

doesn’t everyone constantly feel like they’re acting. All the time

[silversprings-mp3]

#A comedian

[silversprings-mp3]

I don’t believe tsw*ft is a revolutionary or even interesting artist but she *is* the only artist who has her own folder on my phone dedicated to lyrics that make me incandescent with rage so from a perverse conceptual perspective I guess something is working

[silversprings-mp3]

oh man what i wouldn't give to wake up like this

Pretty Girl: Jack Abbot x Reader x Michael "Robby" Robinavitch (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @daydreamsareallineed @starstruckunknown-princess @sillymuffintrashflap @thedamnqueenofhell

Summary: Jack and Robby spend a little quality time with their pretty girl.

Companion piece to:

Together - Jack comes home to find Robby in the kitchen and you sleeping the morning away.

You sleep like the dead, splayed out across the mattress, the sheets kicked off past your knees, your arms tucked under the pillows. Your hair is tied up in a messy bun and you’re wearing Jack’s Bob Dylan t-shirt and a pair of white panties with tiny cherries on. Jack fucking loves those panties, he loves the way they turn translucent when you get wet for him, that damp patch that grows the more worked up he gets you. His fingertips trail up from the back of your knee and along your inner thigh doodling tiny patterns across your skin. He glances over his shoulder at Robby who stands back, watching from the doorway.

“You’re not going to join?” He asks with a frown.

“I think maybe the two of you should have some time alone together.” Robby says as his palm rubs over the nape of his neck. “I know it’s been a while.”

This is what Jack loves about Robby, how mindful he is of the two of you. He’s been fortunate enough that his free time has lined up with both yours and Jack’s. Jack hasn’t been so lucky. Robby’s offering him the chance to reconnect with you without having to worry about the third person in the room but he doesn’t understand that that’s what Jack wants, he wants both of the people he cares about in the same space, he wants to love them both.

“Get over here old man.” Jack says, jerking his head towards the bed. “Come be with me and our girl.”

Robby steps into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. He pulls the worn t-shirt off, tossing it onto the floor. If Jack’s dick wasn’t already hard, it is now because Michael Robinavitch, he’s truly something to behold. That light dusting of dark hair on his broad chest, leading all the way down to that treasure trail. The scar from the night he had his appendix out, while Jack waited impatiently in the waiting room. The slight love handles that Jack has gripped time and time again as he thrust deep inside him.

Robby’s hand threads through his curls as he kisses him, his tongue tracing along the seam of Jack’s mouth before dipping inside. His fists grasp Jack’s shirt, bunching the fabric before he draws it up over his head, allowing it to drop to the carpet. His fingers fumble with the tie of his black scrubs before he’s shoving them down along with Jack’s boxer briefs. His erection slaps against his stomach and Robby tilts his head to watch that tiny bead of pre-come drip down the tip.

“Get into bed with her.” Robby murmurs untying his own grey sweatpants.

Jack climbs onto the bed behind you, his arm encircling your waist as he guides you back against him, his cock slotting perfectly into the space between your legs. Already he can feel the moisture gathering on the fabric of your panties, drenching his tip. He buries his face into the curve of your throat to stifle his grunts, his stubbled cheek rubbing across your tender skin.

Robby joins you as you begin to stir, his bare form pushing you against Jack, securing you between them. His mouth ghosts over yours, his palm settling over your breast, his thumb lightly teasing your nipple until it’s pert and wanting. You moan into his mouth as you start to wake, your eyes flickering open as Jack’s lips leave a heated trail down the column of your throat.

Your hand reaches back, combing through Jack’s salt and pepper curls, tugging just enough to make him rut against you, his breath hot in your ear.

“Need you.” He whispers, his teeth grazing that deviant little spot just underneath the hinge of your jaw. “Been too long sweetheart.”

“Then take me.” You whisper, as Robby’s head dips. His mouth latches onto your nipple through the white shirt, his teeth biting down, sending a sensuous thrill through your entire nervous system. “Show me what I’ve been missing.”

Jack’s fingers hook on your panties, drawing them down your thighs as Robby mouths your other nipple, kneading your breasts with his large hands. He notches himself at your entrance, easing inside you slowly, filling you with every inch of him. The sound you make in that moment, it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. Robby’s palm grasps your chin, tipping your mouth towards his as he drinks down your pleasure. He takes your hand and guides it to his needy cock, wrapping your fingers around the shaft.

“That’s it pretty girl.” He murmurs against your lips as your hand begins to glide along his length. “Keep me in time with you and Jack.”

His own palm squeezes your hip before coming to rest on Jack’s ass as he pumps into you. Robby grasps it tightly, driving the other man deeper with every thrust until you’re whimpering into his mouth and Jack is keening against your shoulder. His own grunts join the chorus as that ecstasy begins to rise up inside of him like a crescendo, building and building until your grasp on his dick gets tighter, your kisses messier. Jack’s hips piston harder, faster until he lets out a strangled cry, the one that has Robby coming in your hand as you climax around Jack’s cock, your teeth biting down on Robby’s lower lip.

He can taste the blood as he looks down at the mess you’ve made of him, his spent covering his stomach as Jack’s hips continue to stutter.

“It really has been a long time for you, hasn’t it Jackie Boy.” He smiles affectionately as his cheek rests against yours so that he can steal a kiss from Jack’s lips over your shoulder.

“Fuck off old man.” Jack retorts, his forehead coming to rest upon Robby’s. “This is all just a warm up for that weekend at the cabin, I’ll show you who’s boss then.”

Robby’s eyes twinkling at the challenge as you burrow even closer into his chest, your eyes fluttering closed again as you nuzzle at his neck.

“Oh no baby.” He murmurs, his lips brushing over your temple. “We need to get you into the shower, you’ve got some waking up to do.”

Love Jack x Robby x Reader? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[silversprings-mp3]

$20 used to mean something

[silversprings-mp3]

PEDRO PASCAL Vanity Fair

[silversprings-mp3]

[silversprings-mp3]

“why do you have a gap in your resume” idk why is there a gap in your staff. worry about that

[silversprings-mp3]

i'm crazy for this.

The most handsome man in this world.

[silversprings-mp3]

Warsan Shire, from “Backwards”, Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head

[silversprings-mp3]

Zuhair Murad | Spring/Summer 2014 Couture

[silversprings-mp3]

i rlly hope it gets easier soon bc i am fucking losing my mind

[silversprings-mp3]

PEDRO PASCAL BY SØLVE SUNDSBØ FOR VANITY FAIR

[silversprings-mp3]

For all of the northerners that stood up for Texas during our freeze and said, "Don't make fun of them, they've never dealt with this before. Their infrastructure isn't made for snow and freezing."

This one is for you.

Where I live 108°F with 80% humidity with no wind is normal.

Pacific North West is dealing historic best waves 35-40°C or 95-105°F.

First of all. Don't make fun of them for bitching about the heat. Just like Texas isn't built for a freeze and our pipes burst, Pacific North West isn't built for heat and a lot of their homes don't have AC.

If you live somewhere with a high humidity like 80+ HUMIDITY IS NOT YOUR FRIEND. The "humidity makes it feel cooler" is a lie once it gets beyond a point.

If you live somewhere with a lower humidity, misters are nice to cool off outside.

Once you get over 90°F (32°C) a fan will not help you. It's just pushing around hot air. (I mean if you can't afford a small AC unit because they're expensive as hell, by all means a fan is better than nothing).

If you have pets, those portable AC units aren't safe. If your pets destroy the outtake thing, it'll leak CO2. Window units are safer.

Window AC units will let mosquitoes or other small bugs in. Sucks, but that's life.

Now is not the time to me modest. If you have to cover for religious reasons, by all means. If you don't, I've seen people wear short shorts and a swim top. It's not trashy if it keeps you from getting heat stroke.

If you do have to cover up for religious reasons, look for elephant pants or something similar. They're made with a breathable material.

Shade is better than no shade, but that shit it just diet sun after some point. Don't think shade will save you from heat stroke.

I know the "drink your water" is a fun meme now, but if you're sweating excessively you need electrolytes. Drink Gatorade, Powerade, or Pedialite PLEASE. I don't care if you're fucking sitting in one spot all day. That shit WILL save you from heat stroke.

Most importantly. RESEARCH THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HEAT STROKE AND HEAT EXHAUSTION PLEASE!

If you're diabetic and can't drink Gatorade, mix water, fruit juice, and either lite salt or pink salt

If you can afford it, cover windows with thick curtains to insulate the house

If you have tile floors, lay on them with skin to tile contact. If you don't, laying your head on cool counters works too.

If the temperature where you're at is hotter than your body temperature, don't wear heat wicking clothing. Moisture wicking is safe though.

Check your medication labels. Many make you more susceptible to sun and heat

-Room temperature water will get into your body faster. This is something I learned doing marching band in high summer in Georgia, and it saved all of our asses. Sip it, don't gulp it, especially if you're getting into the red; same goes for whatever fluid you're drinking. And just in general drink during the day.

-If you are moving from an air conditioned space to an un-air conditioned space, if at all possible try to make the shift gradual. When my dad and I were working outside and in un-ac houses a few years ago, he'd turn the air down to low in the truck about ten-fifteen minutes before we got where we were going. This way your body doesn't go from low low temps to high temps. S'bad for you.

-If you can, keep your lights off during the day. Light bulbs may not generate a lot of heat, but the difference is noticeable when it gets hot enough. I literally only turn my bedroom light on in the evening when it gets too dark.

Don't be afraid to just like... pour water on yourself if you need to. The evaporation will cool you off.

Put your hand to the cement for 15 seconds. If you can't handle the heat, it'll burn your dog's paws. Don't let them walk on it.

Dogs with flat faces are more prone to heat stroke. Don't leave them out unsupervised.

Frozen fruit is delicious in water.

Wet/Cold hat/handkerchief on your head/neck will help you stay cool.

Pickle juice is great for electrolytes! You can even make pickle juice Popsicles!

Heat exhaustion is more, "drink water and get you cooled off." Heat stroke is more "Oh my god call 911."

Image Description provided by @loveize

[Image description: an infographic showing the difference between heat exhaustion and heat stroke. The graphic is labeled "Heat Dangers: First Warning." Signs of heat exhaustion: faint or dizzy, excessive sweating, cool, pale, clammy skin, rapid, weak pulse, muscle cramps. If you think you or someone else may be experiencing heat exhaustion, get to a cool, air-conditioned place, drink water if conscious, and take a cool shower or use cold compress. Signs of heat stroke: throbbing headache, no sweating, red, hot, dry skin, rapid, strong pulse, may lose consciousness. If you think you or someone else may be experiencing heat stroke, call 911. End description]

Be safe.

-fae

[silversprings-mp3]

PEDRO PASCAL Vanity Fair | July - August 2025

[silversprings-mp3]

Holy shit 😮‍💨😮‍💨

summary: charlie needs his ego fed

charlie reid x reader

warnings: (18+) smut, oral (f. receiving), afab reader (use of she pronoun at one point), praise kink, light degradation, overstimulation

a/n: whoops… on the lords day and everything.

it wasn’t enough.

he had your underwear stuffed into the front pocket of his pants and your thighs locked around his head but it just wasn’t enough. it didn’t matter what charlie did; how he curled his fingers, or how much carefully calculated pressure he applied to your core, you still wouldn’t give him more than a quiet, lady-like moan.

“who makes you feel this good?” he prompts, pushing two fingers into you.

he pumps them in a ‘come here’ motion that has you hiding your gasp beneath the palm of your hand. you clench around his fingers, squirming as he tightens his grip around your thighs.

who makes you feel this good?

the question hangs over your head as charlie waits for a verbal answer. but your mind is blank and you can only focus on the heat rushing to your face (and lower stomach). your cheeks heat and you resist the urge to call out his name.

“mm-hmmm!”

he sighs, stilling the motion altogether.

this makes you freeze and wonder if this entire thing is completely unbearable for him. you thought you were doing everything right. you kept your volume low. your moans were quiet and regulated. you’ve learned from past partners that minimal loudness from a girl is most ideal. and while you feel more inclined to scream into the mattress whenever charlie so much as touches you–all you want to please him. and the worst-case scenario is him finding you too loud.

you continue to hide in the base of your hand as his fingertips trail up your inner thigh. you’re about to stutter out an apology when he plants a kiss where his fingers are planted, his teeth grazing your skin lightly. he removes his fingers and before you could quietly mewl out, he presses the pad of his thumb harshly against your clit, eliciting a whine past your closed lips.

“come on, doll,” he murmurs into your thigh. “let me have it.”

his rough circling makes you let out a hushed string of ‘oh god, oh god, oh god’, but he shoots you an unimpressed look: “pathetic.”

your breath hitches when his teeth dig into your thigh again. he litters kisses up to your center.

you glance down at him; watching his hand, which has a firm grasp on your leg, flex as he grips you. you admire his veins that pop out when he’s wrapped up in you and the way his other hand is pressed against your core, his thumb circling in sloppy motions. it takes one look at his furrowed brow and watchful eyes that you get what he wants–

it’s an ego thing. of course it is. he wants to hear all of you.

you whine out, “baby–”

“she speaks,” he tuts.

a familiar coil begins to unravel as you search for the right words. you make an effort to prop up on your elbows as his fingers nudge against your core, parting you in two. your breath is ragged: “charlie, i need you.”

he removes his hand and you hiss at the abrupt stop. you start to mutter out a complaint but then his hand shoots out to push you back into the mattress, putting an end to your propped-up position. you squirm into the bedspread again and gasp sharply when his head dips down between your thighs. the tip of his nose nudges against your bud when he tugs you close.

his breath fawns against you.

“and i need you,” charlie prods at your lips, “to be louder.”

his tongue sears through you and you’re quickly tugging his hair with a shriek and the only words you can think of for him are mean mean mean.

“charlie–” you plead, “oh my god, charlie, please.”

he laps at your core, and you arch against the bed with a cry that would probably have neighbors knocking on your door. the sheets fall victim to your fingertips as you pull and tug at whatever is available to you.

he grins at the reaction, his thumb reaching to play with your swollen clit, “having fun?”

when he presses his tongue flat against you, you’re jerking away from him and chanting his name like you’re reciting an old hymn. as soon as do, he’s straining against the line of his pants, mumbling something along the lines of ‘i’m fucking you later.’ he curses under his breath as he fondles the curve of your hip. his fingers dig into your skin as he tugs you closer to him–closer to his mouth.

“you’re good,” you say, hands reaching for his hair again. “you’re so good.”

you can sense his smirk and you almost regret the admission.

“uh-huh.” as if to say i know.

his name is the only thing left your lips as he continues to fuck you with his tongue. the growing heat in your stomach is building to a breaking point as you buck your hips against the tight hold he has on your thighs.

you’re not sure what to do with your hands, other than to thread your fingertips through his curls and pull on them for good measure. that’s when he lifts his head and you notice his blown-out pupils and the saliva mixed with you running down his chin for the first time.

“gonna ride me after,” it’s not phrased as a question but you nod vigorously, moaning when he dips back down between your thighs. his movements grow more erratic, eager to watch you finish on his tongue. “think this pretty pussy can handle that?”

“yes, yes,” you fist the sheets in your hand, making the corners of the bedding begin to give way. “however you want it.”

he growls into your core, the noise vibrating throughout your body. his hips shift and he’s leaning over to look you in the eyes: “tell me how you want it.”

[silversprings-mp3]