#stuntdriver

[sp8ce-queen]

how can i make this about my special interest?

[discougor]

каноничная концовка

[filly0915]

ryan gosling thanks for getting me out of my year long art block

[caramelc0rgi]

NEED EVERYONE TO GET MORE STUNTDRIVER CODED IMMEDIATELY

[koidoezstuff]

hi stuntdriver ok bye

[soupiemeowmeow]

Stuntdriver x reader Eiffel Tower position but colts in the middle and you and driver lean in to kiss.

Holland March getting his mustache bleached from eating you out so often and Healy is like…I know what you are….

Also lars getting HIS mustache bleached and Gus and Karin find out why and fangirl that he’s getting it on

Ryland having bite marks all over him because you just LOVEEEE biting his muscles mmmmm

Ok bye

[maybemoltenlava]

stuntdriver yayyy

[prudejudee]

stuntdriver + eiffel tower 🤤 them making out above you UGH

wow. very horny. maybe time to whack my weed after this. hi enjoy!

The mirror at the foot of the bed catches everything—your reflection, their reflections, the whole tangled mess of limbs and sweat and hunger. You're on your hands and knees in the center of the mattress, back arched, ass up, face grazing against Driver's stomach, but you've twisted your head just enough to watch. The silvered glass shows you exactly what you need: Colt behind you, Driver in front.

Colt's hands grip your hips, thumbs digging into the soft flesh just above your ass cheeks. He's thick, and when he pushes in, the stretch is a slow, deliberate burn that makes you gasp into the warm skin infront of you. He holds there for a moment, letting you feel every inch, before he starts to move—deep, steady thrusts that rock your whole body forward, right into Driver's waiting cock.

Driver is on his knees in front of you, his jeans kicked off somewhere, his cock hard and leaking against his stomach. You open your mouth for him, tongue out, and he sinks into your throat with a groan that echoes off the bedroom walls. He's not rushing. He's savoring the way Colt's rhythm pushes you onto his cock, the way you moan every time a thrust drives you deeper onto his shaft. His hands fist your hair, guiding your head, setting a pace that matches Colt's pounding from behind.

You keep your eyes flitting on the mirror. You can see Colt's reflection, his jaw tight, his blond hair falling across his forehead as he watches himself slide in and out of you. His abs flex with each stroke, and his hands roam up your back, over your ribs, until he's gripping your shoulders to pull you back harder onto his cock. He leans forward, his chest pressing against your spine, and whispers against your ear, "Look at you. Taking both of us so good."

Driver pulls his cock out of your mouth just long enough for Colt to slow his thrusts. You whimper at the loss, but then you see it—in the mirror, clear as day. Driver leans in, and Colt meets him halfway. Their lips crash together, tongues sliding and tasting, a messy, hungry kiss that makes your pussy clench around Colt's cock. They're both moaning into each other's mouths, and you can see Colt's hand come up to cup Driver's jaw, pulling him deeper. Driver groans, his cock twitching against your cheek, and Colt breaks the kiss just long enough to murmur with a shiteating grin, "She likes watching us."

Driver grins, a rare, sharp thing in the mirror's reflection. He kisses Colt again, harder this time, teeth clicking, and then he's back in front of you, his cock sliding into your throat. "Want him to let you suck, or fuck you hm?" Colt asks, his voice rough, and you know the answer before you say it.

"F..fuck me..please?" you breathe.

The mirror shows it all: Colt's hips slapping against your ass, Driver's hand wrapped around the base of his own cock, stroking in time with Colt's thrusts as he fucks your throat. You can see the way their eyes meet over your shoulder, a silent conversation, a shared hunger. Colt pulls out, and your wetness drips down your thigh, but he's not done. He crawls around, swapping positions with Driver, who slides behind you, his cock finding your wet entrance and pushing in with one long, smooth stroke.

Now Driver is fucking you from behind, his hands gripping your hips as he sets a wicked pace, while Colt spreads his legs apart, his cock at the level of your mouth. You open for him, tongue out, and he sinks into your throat with a groan. His hands fisting your hair, guiding your head, setting a pace that matches Driver's pounding from behind.

Now the mirror gives you the full picture: Colt's balls pressing against your chin, his hands fisting your hair as he fucks your face, and behind him, Driver's reflection, his eyes locked on where he's buried inside you, his hand reaching out to grip Colt's hip, pulling him deeper into your mouth. They're both moving now, a rhythm that's all syncopated grunts and wet sounds—Driver's cock sliding through your slick folds, Colt's cock hitting the back of your throat.

You open your eyes in the mirror, meeting Driver's gaze. He's watching you watch him, and he leans down, his lips brushing your ear: "You like seeing us take you, don't you?"

You can't answer with your mouth full, but you moan around Colt's cock, and he feels it, his hips stuttering. Driver speeds up, his breathing ragged, and you can see his hand move to stroke Colt's thigh, then up, tracing the line of his hipbone. Colt tilts his head, catches Driver's mouth in a kiss that's desperately sloppy and wet—while they're both still inside you, one in your pussy, one in your throat. The mirror captures it perfectly: their lips locked, their bodies moving together, and you in the middle, being used and worshipped at the same time.