emmaxdelicate
emmaxdelicate
are you ever dreaming of me?
164 posts
emma | she/her | 18 | #1 delicate stan
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emmaxdelicate · 22 hours ago
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[STR8 Aussie Guy Gets WRECKED by Hung British Twink, FIRST TIME]
"So, I see you've decided to take me up on the offer," the man grins. He's older, probably in his mid to late forties, hair graying at the temples. Salt and pepper is scattered throughout the rest of his head. There's stubble lining his face. Handsome, Oscar thinks. Handsome in, like, the totally normal, not gay-way. Oscar has eyes. He can appreciate when someone is attractive. Lando just grins, big and shit-eating, up at the man. "Couldn't pass it up, honestly," he says, pointy canines on display. Lando sits back on the couch, spreading his thighs. His hands rest there heavily, large palms spread wide and warm over denim. He rubs up and down for a few seconds before he rests his head back. "Getting paid to just jerk off? Sounds like a done deal to me." Oscar can't help but wince at how candid Lando is. Doesn't understand how Lando is so… Chill about this whole thing. It's not… It isn't that Oscar is homophobic, no. He knows plenty of gay people. One of his best friends is gay! But, Oscar isn't… He doesn't do this—the gay stuff. He doesn't even know how he'd let Lando talk him into doing this, but here he is. The older man smiles wolfishly at the two of them, clapping his hands together before he's moving to the camera. "Great. Yeah, you two are… You're gonna look incredible together." Where the hell did Lando find this guy? There's a soft beeping noise coming from the camera, the power turning on. Oscar watches the way the lens adjusts, falling into its preset position as the guy sets everything else up. For a porn shoot, everything sure does feel… Underwhelming. Oscar had thought there'd be more to it. Sure, they're just getting off next to each other, but he'd always imagined it'd be a bit more… Inviting? Warm? He thought there'd at least be a crew of people. Maybe a guy holding a boom mic over his head while he thinks about tits and that girl he hooked up with after midterms were over. And, yes, he's seen casting couch porn, of course. But, it's usually a girl dressed in short-shorts and a low cut top who inevitably gets railed by some muscle head. And, okay, sure. There isn't usually a whole lot of set decoration now that he thinks about it… Oscar swallows any thoughts he has when the man with salt and pepper hair adjusts the camera and stands with his arms over his chest. "Alright," he croons. His smile feels dangerous. Feels grimy. "Let's get started, then. What are your names?" Slightly invasive, Oscar thinks, adjusting the way he's sitting. His knees are pressed together on the short sofa, Lando's pressing insistently against his. Oscar's shorts ride up, just a bit, and he thinks he sees the man lock onto the sliver of skin above his knee, pale and hairy. Lando smiles, also adjusting his posture. He looks relaxed, more open. He tugs at the hem of his hoodie, raising his hips. The man behind the camera smirks at that, licking his lips. Something hot curls through Oscar's gut, not sure how to feel about it. "Name's Lando," he says, confident. "This here's Oscar." One of Lando's big, calloused palm opens toward Oscar, gesturing at him. "And how do you know each other, Lando and Oscar?" Oscar's skin prickles, stomach twisting at the way the man says their names, like he's testing it out; seeing how it tastes in his mouth. Oscar doesn't like that. He doesn't like the way the man is staring at them. At Lando. He's looking at him like he wants to eat him. Oscar would know, that's how he looks at—. "We're best mates and he's my roommate."
preview for my gay4pay 481 fic. if you'd like to be tagged when it's posted, let me know!
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emmaxdelicate · 4 days ago
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And, baby, that’s show business for you. New album The Life of a Showgirl. Out October 3  ❤️‍🔥
https://taylor.lnk.to/TSTheLifeofaShowgirl
Album Producers: Max Martin, Shellback and Taylor Swift 📸: Mert Alas & Marcus Piggott
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emmaxdelicate · 4 days ago
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of all the people you shift for
there’s a reality where they are in their own “cr” making tumblr posts and dr master lists and moodboards talking about you and all the lovely things about you
for all the people who shift to realities based off media, there’s also realities where a bunch of those people are shifting to a reality for you, making pin boards of you, reblogging poetry quotes and aesthetic pictures with special tags just for you, living in their imagination with you
maybe in their reality, you were just a “character” in a book or in a tv show, with your own fleshed out lore that they tweaked and changed to fit in with you better
maybe there’s a woman out there shifting to be your mother, a man out there shifting to be your father, someone out there shifting to even be your cat because they know in that reality you’d treat them right and spoil them till their sick
they love you, just as you love them. they know you, just as you know them. they see you, just as you see them.
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emmaxdelicate · 4 days ago
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honestly idgaf if people say lando and oscar aren't friends and don't hang out outside of work. that's the whole appeal. keep it locked in the fishbowl. i want the claustrophobia of back-to-back flights, the ghost of each other's split times living rent-free in their heads. i want "we barely speak off-track but i've memorized the sound of your breathing through the radio." give me two men chained together by circumstance and competition, forced to orbit each other like it's fate. that's not friendship, that's greek tragedy!
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emmaxdelicate · 5 days ago
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imagine being so rich you could holiday absolutely anywhere in the world and your choice of destination is the place that’s currently committing genocide and starving babies to death
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emmaxdelicate · 5 days ago
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oh😭my😭god😭😭😭😭😭😭
At 12:12 on the 12th, TS12 finally got a name: The Life of a Showgirl. ❤️‍🔥 More info soon… pre pre-order the album & pre pre-scream in the meantime!!!!!!!!!!!! taylor.lnk.to/TSTheLifeofaShowgirl
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emmaxdelicate · 7 days ago
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The hero we need
This is probably the best full body piece I’ve ever done… also first time working on environments! There’s so much I want to add, but it’s already too late.. uniform inspired by the amazing Spider-Man because I just love how it looks in the movie though I did change it a bit to be in between Andrew’s Spider-Man and Tobey’s Spider-Man.
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emmaxdelicate · 7 days ago
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puppy gets caught with treat he isn’t supposed to have — live action… i feel u need to see this
evil… EVIL!!!! i would fully let him have it too… i cannot say no to those big round pretty brown eyes ohhhh im so weak for him…
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emmaxdelicate · 7 days ago
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rpf writers IM BEGGING YOU
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emmaxdelicate · 7 days ago
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when the cool moot is like ??? Interacting with you ???? And holding conversations with you ???????? But they’re cool ????? ??? And you’re lame ??????
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emmaxdelicate · 9 days ago
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lammington_lover_3000
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emmaxdelicate · 17 days ago
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sunshine and weird vibes
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it's just… it's been a while. that's all. you were in a bit of a dry spell. a… two year dry spell, but still! point is, you haven't gotten any lately and it's just… just your body reacting to the physical touch of someone else. and, yeah, maybe if oscar wasn't your step-dad's son you'd maybe find him attractive, but that's besides the point!
☆ wc: 9.2k ☆ cw: step-brother!oscar, stepcest, dom!oscar, dubious consent, multiple orgasms, p in v, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, praise, sharing a bed (with a twist!), oscar piastri is just a little bit off (he's a little mean), condescension (he knows you want this even if you say you don't), pet names (sweetheart, baby), big dick!ojp ☆ a/n: oh my god it's finally here!!! wrote this extra special for @oopslandiia. i have so many requests for step bro!osc... idk if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but i hope this tides you all over until i find the inspo for another installment of weird and off putting younger step brother ojp... also this is NOT edited don’t come at me
family holidays were, usually, fun. they should be, right? spending time with loved ones, going to new places, revisiting old ones. they used to be fun.
keyword: used.
now, you dread going on these vacations. ever since your mom married his dad, things had been… weird.
oscar was nice, at first. well. he was nice enough. he didn’t talk much, but he was great at listening. and he liked to look at you. a little too much… sometimes, it bordered on creepy, the way he’d stared. but, you’d always been the type to see the best in someone!
until now.
the summer sun is bright as it shines down on you. your skin is warm, if a bit sandy, but you feel good. it’d been a while since you’d had a chance to sunbathe, and this beach trip was just what you needed. down by the water, you can hear a few of your cousins giggling and splashing one another in the ocean. your mom was reading a book, tucked beneath the big beach umbrella. oscar’s dad was next to her, rubbing a hand over her shoulder.
everything had felt perfect, until your sunshine had been blocked. opening your eyes, oscar was standing over you, eyes squinted as he watched you tan.
���when’s the last time you put on sunscreen?” he asks, head tilted. your brows pinch together as you sit up, pushing your sunglasses up onto your head.
“whatever happened to ‘hi’? or, perhaps, ‘hello’?” you squint, staring up at him, confused.
he just rolls his eyes. “hi. hello. when’s the last time you put on sunscreen?” the repeated question has you bristling a bit.
“didn’t know i had two moms,” you tease, rolling your eyes behind your glasses. “i just put some on, like, two hours ago.”
oscar tuts, kissing his teeth as he shakes his head. “not good. you need to reapply every hour. especially if you’re going to be in direct sunlight like this. come here, i’ll help you.” your eyes widen as he speaks, confused by what on earth he’s talking about.
“oscar—what? i’m a grown adult. i don’t need you to help me reapply sunscr—“
“—nonsense. of course, you do. don’t want you to miss any spots. remember last year? you complained for hours because you missed that spot right under your arm.” his fingers stretch out, tickling the soft bit of skin that peeked out from under your arm. you yelp, batting his hand away and cover the spot with your own.
“oscar!”
that grabs the attention of your parents who only turn to look at both with an amused expression. “honey, just let him help you. it’s good practice!” your mom calls, smiling fondly as oscar’s father presses kisses to her shoulder. a soft gagging sound escapes you at the sight.
“ew,” you mutter under your breath. “if i let you do this, will you leave me alone?”
oscar looks like a the cat who got the canary. he hides it well, but the way his eyes crinkle as he kneels behind you gives him away. “yep. promise.”
the click of the cap has you shuddering, as does the cold touch of sun cream. you let out a soft yelp, squirming away from his touch. oscar groans. “hold still—“
“—that’s cold—!”
“—i said hold. still.”
his hands wrap around your shoulders, tugging you backwards. your back presses against his stomach, all toned and hard-edged. he’s warm, too. something curls in your belly. something you don’t want to think about. especially not with your fucking step-brother of all people.
there’s an urge to squirm away again, especially when something nudges at the top of your spine. your breath catches, hands fisted in the towel beneath you.
oh no. no, no, no. there’s no fucking way—
“um, on second thought,” you start, scrambling up and away from him. he’d barely managed to rub the lotion into your skin completely before you’re managing to stand on two legs, albeit a bit shaky. oscar looks up at you with a glint in his eye, jaw set in masked confusion. “i think i’m—i think i’m done. out here. i think ‘m gonna head inside. get showered, y’know? too much sun! feeling a bit, um, woozy…”
gathering your things, you stumble to rush toward the bridge that led down to the beach. the sand is hot under your feet, making you fumble with your things. you drop a sandal here, lose your sunglasses there. none of it matters, so long as you can get as far away from oscar as possible.
the a/c in the motel is blasting, temperature cranked down well below 70 degrees. you shiver, sun-soaked skin not acclimated to the cool air. goosebumps raise along your arms as you drop your things by the front door. well, what was left of it, anyways.
the motel room is small. your family had booked out two rooms; one with a single, queen-sized mattress, kitchenette, and full bathroom for your mom and her husband. the other, a two-bed room with a mini fridge, a small sink, and a bathroom to match. just for you and oscar. of course...
swallowing any thought of your step-brother, you decide to shower. just a quick one to rinse off the sand and sea-salt. it calms you more than you had expected, aside from the light prickle of a budding sunburn. fucking oscar, you think, poking at the tops of your shoulders. whatever!
as you dry yourself off, you notice you'd forgotten to shut the bathroom door all the way. the hair on the back of your neck stands up when you see the shadow of a figure darting across the room.
oscar was the only one with the second key.
"hey, osc?" you try, unconsciously crossing your fingers. "is that you?"
there's the sound of fumbling, followed by a crash and then a thud. startled, you wrap the towel tight around yourself, rushing out of the bathroom. on the ground lays oscar, holding his knee to his chest and groaning. "dude!" you cry, keeping one hand tight around the knot in your towel while you kneel next to him. "what'd you do?"
oscar just grunts, waving you off. "'m fine. it's—" he pauses, opening his eyes to look at you. you catch the exact moment he realizes what you're wearing and the implications that has. his mouth opens, dry as he drags his gaze over your form. water drips down your neck, pooling in your collarbones. he follows, hungrily, as one dips down between your breasts, pushed together by the towel.
a noise escapes him, pained and strangled.
confused, you look down to see where he was staring. you gasp, shoving away from him. shoving him. "what the fuck!" you shout, scrambling up off the floor. his eyes grow wide as he, too, pushes himself up. he winces when it pinches whatever he'd messed up in his knee, but you can't focus on that. you're much too concerned about that fact that oscar, your step-brother, was staring at your boobs. what the fuck?! "you fucking—get out! fucking pervert, get out!"
oscar doesn't need to be told twice. especially not when he sees you grabbing the motel pillow, ready to throw it at his head. he escapes outside, door slamming hard enough to shake the window.
sitting on the edge of the bed, you groan, rubbing your hands over your face. your brain is a constant looping of "what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck". it's only made worse when you shift in your towel and feel something slick clinging to your thighs. "oh, you've gotta be fucking kidding," you breathe, standing up off the bed. sure enough, as you swipe your fingers through your folds, they come back glistening. you angrily wipe them on your towel before you head back into the bathroom for a second shower. this time, you remember to lock the door.
dinner goes about as well as it can. your entire family had gathered out on the little deck. oscar's dad grilled, your mom made mac'n'cheese. music was playing and your cousins were all happily chasing each other through the grassy area. you'd successfully managed to avoid oscar. he had apparently gone to grab more ice from the store with one of his cousins.
you let out a deep breath, tucking your feet up beneath you on the deck chair you settle into. your mom raises an eyebrow.
"everything alright, honey?"
her question startles you. it seems like everything does. "huh? oh, i'm, uh… i'm fine, ma. no worries." she doesn't seem to buy it, but doesn't push harder on account of the smile you plaster to your face.
she walks away, leaving you to sit with your own thoughts. you don't realize just how deep down the rabbit hole you'd gotten until someone shoves a plate of food in your face. it's oscar.
your breath catches in your throat, ready to bolt, when he holds a hand up. you stop, relaxing back into the chair. your throat moves as you swallow.
oscar takes the chair next to you, passing over the plate he'd held out. it's got all your favorites on it. "thanks," you mumble, glancing at him once before you take a bite. he just hums, looking like he wants to say something. his hands fidget, curling over one another in his lap and you can't help it when the thought of how nice they are pops into your brain.
no, you tell yourself, swallowing again, this time around a bite of food.
sure, oscar had pretty hands. they were all long digits, pale skin, pink knuckles. if he flexed them just right, they were veiny and knobby-knuckled. when he trimmed his nails, they looked like they'd fill you just—
you gasp, pushing back in the chair just enough to make him jump. oscar looks at you with wide eyes, confusion painted all over his face. his sweet, innocent face…
"hey," he mutters, reaching a hand out to rest on your knee. your first reaction is to jerk it away, no pun intended. oscar looks hurt, but his hand doesn't move. it just curls around your leg a little tighter, thumb moving is slow, gentle swipes. "relax. it's okay. i'm just…" his voice lowers a bit and he clears his throat, leaning close. "just tryin' to apologize for… earlier. in the bathroom? i didn't—that was inappropriate of me. and, i'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable."
your skin burns under his palm; fire licking up your skin, toes curling under the table. your breath hitches in your throat. "oh." is all you manage after a moment, eyes darting everywhere but at oscar's face. he sounds sincere, like he's truly sorry, but the way he rubs his thumb against your skin…
"uh, it's—don't worry about it. it's fine, oscar. just an accident." the words are rushed and stuttered as you try to push his hand off your leg. you try to tell yourself it's nervousness. that it's disgust and something awful that twists in your gut. you know it isn't, though. not when you can feel the seat of your panties slicking up, sticking to your skin even though you showered and wiped away any remnant of arousal. it has your cheeks burning hot as you make eye contact with oscar, finally.
oscar's eyes have you going still in your seat, hand still clutching his. they're dark—darker than they were before. something swims in them, different from the usual disinterest he holds in his gaze. it's different from the bright shine of panic that swam in his irises when he'd been caught staring at your tits.
this oscar… this oscar looks hungry.
a soft, strangled sound leaves your throat, spine curving as you lean forward, pushing his hand away with some finality. taking your plate, you rush off to the motel room.
your plate is dumped in the trash, heart feeling like it's going to explode out of your chest. deep breaths fill your lungs as you try to calm down, thighs shaking from how fast you'd left the table. you'd heard your name being called, but couldn't find it in you to turn back around, needing to put distance between you and oscar. as much distance as possible before it was time to turn in for the night.
the sticky, wet feeling in your underwear only made you groan. there was no way you were leaking over oscar piastri, your fucking step-brother. sure, he hadn't been a part of the family for long. your parents had gotten married a little over a year ago and they'd been dating for three prior to that, so it's not like you guys grew up together, but still. it's the principle of it all…
pressing your back to the door, you whine when your thighs squeeze together, searching for friction. you shake your head. no. it's just… it's been a while. that's all. you were in a bit of a dry spell. a… two year dry spell, but still! point is, you haven't gotten any lately and it's just… just your body reacting to the physical touch of someone else. and, yeah, maybe if oscar wasn't your step-dad's son you'd maybe find him attractive, but that's besides the point!
you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth and pinch your thigh, willing the thoughts of oscar out of your head. there was no way you were going to spend the night thinking about him like that. absolutely fucking not.
when nightfall comes, you're in your bed, pressed to the wall. your back faces the door, curled up under the motel blankets. they're scratchy on your skin and they're somehow too hot and too cold. your feet couldn't find comfort as the sand and saltwater had dried them out and forced them to catch on the sheets unpleasantly. your pillow was warm as it pressed against your head. and, to top it all off, the t-shirt you'd packed to sleep in kept twisting unpleasantly around your torso every time you flipped over. stuffing your face into the pillow, you groan.
"y'alright?"
the voice has you shooting up straight, eyes wide as you stare at oscar. even in the dim lighting of the room, you can see his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were wide. his hand gripped the doorknob as he swayed a bit.
great. not only was he a pervert, but he was now a drunk one, too.
"i'm—" you start, watching him as he stumbles forward toward his bed. it's closest to the door. he falls face first with a soft, oomph. you frown, crawling out of your bed to check on him. his back rises and falls slowly, deep breaths that would hint that he'd fallen asleep if not for the groan he lets out. "jesus, oscar. are you drunk?"
instead of an answer, oscar just gives a halfhearted shake of his hand. you scoff, rolling your eyes. "at least go brush your teeth," you huff, stepping back to crawl into your bed. your hackles raise a bit when oscar reaches to grab your wrist, hanging limp by your side.
"don't go," he whispers, hand warm where it's curled around yours. his thumb swipes at the heel of your palm, tender and sweet. if he hadn't freaked you out twice today, the gesture might have come across as cute, but right now? your skin prickles and you want nothing more than to curl up under your own sheets. "please." something about the way he says it has your belly twisting, curling in knots as something hot floods your system.
when he picks his face up, his eyes are glazed over and wide and his mouth is the prettiest shade of red. he licks at his lips, throat working as he swallows. "'m not… not drunk. just—tipsy. had two or three drinks. s'all."
well…
"please, i just—just want to apologize."
"oscar, i told you. it's fine—"
"no!" he whines, face looking distraught as he tries to push himself into a sitting position. he manages it, all while keeping his hand around your wrist. "no, it isn't fine. i shouldn't have—i made you uncomfortable. and i am so sorry."
standing this close to him, this is the first time you notice that he has freckles. they're faint, but being in the sun for a few days has certainly darkened them. they dust his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, speckling up and across his forehead. you open your mouth to speak, only to get distracted by the awful puppy-dog stare he's giving you; like if he looks at you for long enough, you'll drop the whole thing.
"oscar, it's okay. really. i forgive you. no worries," you rush out, trying to keep from falling into those pools of warm, honeyed hazel. had his eyes always been that pretty?
you clear your throat, coughing a bit as you tear your gaze away from oscar's. nope. just a dry spell, remember? it's just a dry spell, your body is desperate, and you aren't that insane, you tell yourself.
oscar just stares at you like you'd unlocked all of the wonders of the universe; all starry-eyed and soft-mouthed. your stomach curls again.
“promise?" his lips wrap around the word like a dream, accented and gentle. you ignore the way your skin tingles.
"uh, yeah. yeah, i promise, osc. now… go brush your teeth for me? maybe wash your face. you'll regret it in the morning if you don't…" your voice is tight as you speak, trying your best to untangle his hand from around yours, though you can't deny that you like how it feels—does dry spell mean nothing to you?
oscar smiles, all dopey and not-so-sober. "okay," he whispers, cheeks bunching and rounding out as he lets go finally and slips himself off of his bed.
and, yeah. dry spell means nothing to you.
a sigh escapes your mouth when you finally relax back down into your own bed, only a few feet from oscar's. light floods the room from the crack in the bathroom door and the sound of water running fills the space. oscar brushes his teeth diligently, seeming to have no clue that you're suffering internally. your thighs shift against the scratchy sheets, white and sterile in a way that makes you squirm. wet slick sticks to your sleep shorts and your face is flushed. everything feels worse than before oscar had come in.
the light from the bathroom turns off as oscar stumbles out of the door. his feet sound heavy against the carpeted floor and you can hear the shuffling of what you think are blankets.
wait. wait.
you inhale a sharp gasp when a soft hand wraps around your waist, tugging you close. "oscar!" you whisper-shout for what feels like the hundredth time today. "oscar, this isn't your bed…"
he hums, pushing his face close to the back of your neck, inhaling the scent of your body wash. his hand only tightens around your waist, palm splaying out over the material of your t-shirt. "i know," he mutters back. his breath is warm where it hits your skin and the tingling between your legs only worsens when he presses himself fully against you.
you can feel everything—the breadth of his chest and the toned muscle he's started to put on. the strength of his thighs as they push up against the backs of your own, where his knees bend to fit alongside yours. where his foot rubs against your calf as he nuzzles closer into your neck.
a whimper escapes your mouth when you feel him. half hard in his boxers, pressing right against the seam of your sleep shorts. he only gets harder at the sound.
"then what—what are you doing?" his hand rubs in slow, soothing circles, almost lulling you into a false sense of security. "osc, please. go back to your bed…"
oscar releases a breathy chuckle, low and a little bit mean. it has you tensing in his hold, curling into yourself. "don't run away from me," he croons, arm now locked around you as he tugs you against him roughly. your back arches, a soft whine leaving your mouth. "i saw the way you were looking at me at dinner… you want this just as bad as i do."
"no, i don't…" your voice wavers as you squirm, trying your best to roll over despite being wedged between him and the wall. "i don't! that'd be so fucking weird—"
oscar cuts you off with a soft tut and a kiss to his teeth. "oh, don't give me that bullshit." his voice is firm, though still soft around the edges. "we aren't related. not really. c'mon, i know you want this. can feel you rubbing your thighs together. n'aw, aren't you cute."
you want to squirm away. you know you should try harder, should fight more. but, the soothing hand on your belly and the hard line of his cock against your ass has you floundering, not sure what you should be doing. goosebumps prickle along the length of your arms when his hand slips under the hem of your shirt. it's slow and warm, palm wide as it walks up your torso, then drags back down toward the waistband of your shorts. your breath stutters when oscar's fingers just barely slip underneath.
"if you didn't want this, you'd have shoved me off by now," he says, lips right next to your ear. you shiver, shoulder raising to push him away. "bet if i stuck my hand in your little shorts, you'd be soaked. am i right?"
biting your lip, you screw your eyes shut and shake your head.
"that's not an answer, baby."
the pet name has heat roiling in your gut, chest tight as your face only warms. "you're wrong," you manage to whine, trying to jerk your hips away from where his fingers are toying with your pajamas.
oscar's hand moves to grip your hip, stilling you. the nails on his hand had been clipped considerably. you gulp, thinking about what that might imply. "stay still," he breathes, rolling his hips forward. "i know what you want. could tell when i grabbed your knee earlier. should'a seen yourself. did you get wet then, too?" oscar's fingers sink into the plush of your side, deeper, sure to leave little indented crescents on your skin.
he takes another deep inhale, eyes fluttering shut as he grinds his hips against you. "you're so soft," he groans, hand releasing your waist to explore. he takes his time, letting his lithe fingers trail over your stomach, down the side of your hip, gripping your thigh. the whole time, oscar breathes out soft, little moans, cock pressing up against your ass. you whine, feeling like your skin was on fire.
distantly, you hope that the curtains had been pulled shut. not that anyone could see the two of you since you were tucked up under the blankets, but still. the idea that anyone could see you… in bed… with oscar?
a gasp is ripped from your throat as oscar's hand cups you through your shorts. he lets out a low chuckle. "holy shit," he laughs, moving his palm just right. you whimper, squeezing your thighs tighter around his hand. "you're fucking soaked, baby. and you called me a perv…"
oscar grinds the heel of his palm right up against your clit, making your eyes squeeze shut again. "osc," you try for a final time, reaching to grab his hand. for a moment, you think he's done fucking with you until he smacks the back of your hand, batting it away.
"let me have this," he growls, rendering you speechless. your body stills and a soft cooing sound fills your ears. "good girl… been waiting for this. for you. you've been playing with me for so long—teasing me, giving me those eyes. like, tonight. at dinner? the way you ran away… you wanted me to chase you."
your mouth falls open when oscar finally, finally slips his hand under the band of your shorts. oscar groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "no fucking panties, and you're dripping? i knew you wanted this."
"oscar," you breathe, all whimpered and soft, as his fingers swipe through the pooling slick, spreading your folds and dragging the wetness up and over your clit. your entire body jolts, sensitive. it makes him grin where he's got his mouth pressed to your neck. "please…"
"oh? please, what, baby?"
your thighs tremble already, not used to the touch of someone else after so long. you make a soft, throaty sound, turning your face to bury in the pillow. oscar tsks, pulling his hand out of your shorts to grip your chin. turning your head as far as he can, he finds your eyes. "don't hide from me, pretty girl. let me see your face when i make you cum. when your step-brother makes you cum."
a mewl leaves your lips as he says it, drawing the words out if only to drive them home. heat curls and twists violently in your gut, nerve endings buzzing and feeling alight with something you haven't ever experienced.
your legs open wider, keening softly in submission. oscar, for a moment, looks taken aback. once the initial shock wears off, though, he grins. big and toothy as he sits up a bit to grab your jaw again. leaning over you, oscar looks almost wolfish. it's a stark contrast to the way he usually looks: wide-eyed, soft cheeked. his bunny teeth were always on display, but right now? they looked lethal.
leaning in, he kisses you. it's not soft, it isn't gentle. it's rough and sloppy and the angle has your neck pinching just so. you can't find it in you to care, though. not when oscar's tongue pushes into your mouth. not when he licks behind your teeth, tasting everything you have to offer him. oscar makes a noise like you'd just offered him ambrosia on a silver platter, kissing you deeper, deeper, deeper, like he can fit himself inside of you; melt into you. the hold he has on your cheeks keeps you from pulling away, and slowly, you realize that that's exactly how he wants you. your eyes roll.
when he finally pulls back, saliva sticks to your bottom lip, stringy and sticky and so fucking hot. you whimper, breathing in as you try to chase his mouth. he stills you with a hand pressed to your chest, though. oscar laughs. "easy, girl. i'll kiss you again in a minute. let's get you re-situated, yeah?"
confused, you furrow your brows. "re—?"
oscar sits up and pushes at your shoulder, rolling you flat on your back. this way, he gets a complete view of the way in which he's going to absolutely ruin you tonight. maybe forever.
his hands push at the hem of your shirt, exposing the length of your belly. goosebumps prickle there, skin tingling with want as oscar straddles your thighs, leaning down to kiss a path up your stomach. he holds the shirt right where it bunches against the underside of your breasts, pushing them up before he releases the grip, exposing them. he groans, low and long as he just. stares.
you've seen that look. you know that look. that's how oscar had looked at you earlier, with his hand on your knee, when your tits where right in front of his face, when he'd said you needed to put on more sunscreen. you moan, outright and unabashed, head dipping back against the pillow as you push your chest up, reaching to tangle your fingers in oscar's hair.
"are you gonna fucking keep staring at them, or are you going to do something?"
oscar seems to snap out of it at that, lips pulling into a wicked grin before he's diving down. one hand cups your left tit while his mouth gets around the nipple on your right. he laps at it, kittenish and teasing before he sucks the whole of it into his mouth. he groans, eyes fluttering shut. his other hand cups the underside, massaging and fondling while you're left helpless, covering your eyes with your forearms. stuttered gasps leave your chest, eyes rolling back.
usually, you wouldn't react like this to having your boobs toyed with, but something about… about oscar, about the situation, about the fact that it'd been over two years… it has you keyed up, back arching and thighs trying to spread open where they're trapped between oscar's knees.
"mm—osc—" you gasp, spine rolling into a pretty arch, pushing your chest further up into his mouth. "please…"
you can feel the way his lips curl into a smile around your nipple, tongue circling it before he pulls away, breathing heavily. the drying spit has your bud stiffening even further.
"mhm? what d'you need, baby?" oscar's voice already sounds rough, lower than you've ever heard it. his accent seemed to thicken, mouth lazy as it curls around the vowels. he leans down again, pressing wet kisses against the underside of your jaw, nipping at the skin gently.
"you. need you. please…"
oscar coos again at the breathlessness in your voice. he sits up, reaching behind him to tug at the collar of his shirt and pulling it over his head. he tosses it somewhere, uncaring. he'll find it in the morning. your eyes widen just the slightest as his bare torso comes into view. it's the first time you've really taken to looking at him and part of you wishes that at least the table-side lamp was on.
"jesus," you breathe out, raising your hands to trace the planes of his stomach, toned and warm. there's a sparse patch of hair that trails beneath the band of his boxers. a part of you, some weird, animalistic part, wants to sink your teeth into the dip of his waist. take a chunk out of him. chew on him like a chew toy. instead, you just sink your nails into hardened muscle.
oscar smirks down at you, tensing his abdomen when your nails scratch his skin. "like what you see?" he hums, rubbing a hand over his chest. somehow, it was bare, unlike his legs and arms. your thighs rubber together, making him laugh. his thighs were strong where they bracketed your own, flexing as he held himself up.
you nod, quickly. oscar just grins before he tugs your own shirt further up. you sit up to help, watching as he tosses it in the same direction his had gone. "good… now, let's get these off of you, hm?" oscar's fingers dance around the hem of your shorts, pulling it up before letting it snap back against your skin. it's gentle and relatively painless but you can't help the way you gasp.
oscar crawls off of you, shimmying down toward the end of the bed. his fingers curl into your shorts, dragging them as he goes. he groans at the sight of your cunt, exposed and glistening with slick. oscar's mouth drops open, tongue wetting his lips as he stares. "i fucking knew you'd be pretty here, too." one of his hands snakes up the inside of your leg, pushing your thigh up so your legs are spread. you can see the way his adam's apple bobs, swallowing around the saliva that's probably pooled on the back of his tongue.
you jolt when his fingers brush against your pussy, sensitive like a live wire. "hng—oscar, please… don't tease me," you whisper, giving him your best set of pleading eyes. he quirks an eyebrow, drawing his hand away just the slightest. he wants to watch you squirm.
"don't tease you? like you haven't been teasing me for days? d'you know how hard it was keeping my hands to myself while you're running around soaking wet, half-naked? you think that was fair?"
you swallow, whining high in the back of your throat. your head tips back, thighs spreading wider as you buck your hips, desperate to get his hand back where you need it.
"you're gonna beg me for it," oscar growls, low and dangerous as he leans forward, lips ghosting over yours. his hand rests flat over your stomach, pushing down just a bit. just enough to push the air out of your lungs. "do you understand?"
you blink, brain slow to processing just exactly who this version of oscar is. this oscar was so different to any other version of him you knew. the other oscar was timid, reserved. he'd never speak so… forcefully? he wasn't much for giving orders, so much as he was for taking them, with his bambi eyes and cherubic smile.
this oscar was… hot. he made butterflies fill your belly. he made your legs tremble from a simple kiss. his words were like a balm, soothing the itch beneath your skin.
"yes, oscar." it's simple. it's sweet. and oscar? he can't get enough of it. the way your voice cracks around the syllables of his name has his eyes rolling.
"go on, then. beg."
your hands move to find his biceps, curling around them, tryin to get him closer. "please, osc? please. i need it…"
he tuts, tilting his head. "mmm, i think you can do better than that, sweetheart. what do you need?"
your cheeks flush, hot and warm and your head swims. if you weren't so fucking turned on, you'd feel some semblance of shame, submitting and baring yourself like this to oscar. to oscar. you shudder, back arching. "touch me," you rush. "please. need your fingers—your mouth… want your…" your words trail off, nails digging deeper into his arms. you whine, keening at the words that you want to say.
"go on, baby. you're doing so well."
"need your cock inside me… please, baby. oscar, please!"
and, oh. who is oscar to deny you of anything when you sound so sweet begging for his fucking cock?
he grins, wide and wicked, as his hand finds a home between your thighs again. his fingers swipe through the mess before two fingers rub tight, little circles around your clit. it has your chest collapsing, breath leaving you stuttered and broken.
"mhm… that's it, baby. let me get you ready. gotta stretch this perfect, little cunt if i'm gonna fit inside…" confusion paints your face for a moment, but it's washed away when he pushes those two fingers inside. a low groan leaves your mouth, unabashed and unbidden. "that's what i thought… fuck, you're tight. when's the last time you got laid?" it comes out as a joke, intended to just be a dig at you, but when you fall silent and your eyes dart away from oscar's face, his hand stills. you whine, shaking your head as you try to rock your hips, wanting him to keep going.
he says your name low, like a command, as his free hand grips your hip. "i asked you a question."
meek, you blink up at him again, shy. "a… it's been a while."
"how long's a while?" he's looking at you with something you can't quite explain. it's hunger, but it's something… deeper. "sweetheart, how long has it been? answer me, like a good girl."
you whimper, hating that he's so quickly figured out how to push all of your buttons. turning your head, you press your mouth to your shoulder, muffling the words. "two years…" you can't miss the way oscar's eyes nearly bug out of his head while his fingers withdraw from inside you. you cry out at the loss, reaching to grab onto his wrist. "oscar! please, i want—i need—you to keep going. please, i want this so bad, baby… want you."
oscar's face softens, mostly at that sugary sweet tone of voice you've taken on. "'m gonna fuckin' ruin you," he growls before pushing his fingers back inside, roughly. you gasp, fingers tightening around his forearm as he spreads his fingers, stretching your walls. slick drips down his fingers, pooling a bit in his palm. the sight has oscar's cock twitching where it's pressed up against your thigh, still trapped in his boxers.
there's a wet spot, staining right over the tip. if it weren't for the plaid print, you could probably get a good estimate on just how big he is. if he was just talking shit about needing to get you ready for him to fit. he does feel thick, though… heavy, when he ruts his hips forward, letting his cock rub over the top of your thigh.
oscar's fingers curl inside you, hooking up and finding that spongy spot. you let out a startled yelp, like he'd electrocuted you. a strangled gasp leaves your lips and oscar makes a low noise, deep in his chest. "you're so easy," he teases, grinning like he'd just won the lottery. you let out a muffled sob, head falling back once more. you cover your mouth, trying to keep in all of the little noises his fingers are squeezing out of you.
his hand speeds up, eyes locked on your heaving chest as he scissors and curls his fingers. there's a loud, squelching noise that fills the room. it makes your face burn, heat moving to prick at your ears.
when you lift your head again, wanting to watch the way oscar fingers you open, you catch sight of his lip tucked between his teeth, brow set in a low furrow. he looks determined. your mouth drops open when he nudges a third finger in. "fuck, baby," oscar groans, slowing down the in-and-out motion of his fingers. he switches to curling them upward, stroking along your sweet spot.
the coil in the pit of your stomach tightens, oscar's thumb catching on your clit. your hand slaps down over your mouth, holding in a soft cry of oscar's name. sure, you're at a motel. but your family is only a door or two down.
oscar watches, eyes low and half-lidded as he fucks his fingers into you harder, spreading all three digits wide. he can feel the way your walls flutter around them, sucking them deeper inside. he hums, leaning down to press his nose to your temple. you squirm with one hand gripping his forearm, the other pressing harder down over your mouth all while your chest heaves.
"you g'nna cum?" oscar groans in your ear. the feeling of his breath, hot and heavy, tickles, but it also makes you clench down around his fingers. "yeah… you are. can feel it. c'mon, sweetheart. let me make you cum on my fingers. please."
the way his voice sweetens on the please and the feeling of his fingers and thumb working in tandem has you gripping the pillow under your head, mouth now agape. high-pitched, breathy mewls escape you, mixing with oscar's name. he grins at how broken it sounds on your tongue. he watches with rapt attention as your back arches, stomach tensing, trying to hold it back.
"look at me. look at me and you can cum," oscar drawls, speeding his fingers up. "c'mon. be good."
your eyes dart around the ceiling for a second, taking in a deep lungful of air before you finally manage to settle your eyes on oscar. he coos, swiping his free hand over the taut surface of your belly, muscles flexed as you stave off the impending orgasm.
"there we go. atta girl. cum."
it feels like your brain has turned to mush when you let yourself go. oscar's fingers don't stop, only fucking into you faster, trying to prolong your orgasm. your legs tremble, kicking out before trying to close up around his hips. your back arches high off the bed, moans spilling from your lips. oscar's name leaves your mouth like a prayer.
he drinks it in. oscar thinks that he could cum just from this—from watching you let go. pride blooms hot and possessive in his chest, spreading out to his limbs. it curls around his ribs and settles into the spaces, needy and wanting.
there's a near-permanent grin on his lips, eyes a little awestruck as you come down. his fingers have since stopped, thumb no longer making you twitch from aftershocks. a soft, breathy giggle escapes oscar, so different from the way he'd sounded only a few seconds ago.
when the ringing in your ears stops, you blink a few times, trying to focus your vision again. oscar looms over you, pushing your hair out of your face with his clean hand. "y'okay?" he whispers, nudging his nose against yours. "still with me?"
it's a few seconds before you can find it in you to respond. it's a sharp groan, body trying to twist away from oscar. he just chuckles, pulling his fingers out slowly. you mourn the loss of fullness immediately. oscar pets over your thigh, making you grimace when he drags sticky, wet slick against your skin. "relax. you're alright, baby. you did so well," he croons, kissing the apple of your cheek.
you just groan again, using both of your hands to wipe over your face. you whine, refusing to look at oscar.
he isn't having any of that.
"nuh-uh. is that how we thank someone who just gave us a mind-blowing orgasm after a two-year dry spell?"
your hands push out, shoving his face away from yours. "what? y'want me to suck your dick or something?" you grumble, pushing up onto your elbows. your back aches with the movement, pinched from being arched like bowstring.
oscar hums, moving a bit to give you space. both of his hands find your waist, thumbs digging into the plush flesh. he likes watching the way your skin dimples under his touch. "as nice as that sounds, no." you raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to go on. "i recall you saying you just needed my cock inside you. isn't that right?"
you whimper, letting your eyes trail down the length of oscar's body where he's knelt between your thighs. the wet spot on the front of his boxers had grown considerably. his hands move to adjust where he's rock hard, pushing his cock up and trapping it beneath the waistband. you can see the tip peeking out—bright red, leaking pre-cum. your breath catches in your throat.
"osc," you start, swallowing around the spit that's pooling in the back of your mouth. his eyes are dark when he looks down at you. something about the position—him looming over you, tall and strong—has your head spinning. you reach out to cup him, to try and get your hand around his cock. your mouth dries up when you realize just how big it really is.
"take them off," oscar tells you, jutting his chin forward with a lazy smirk on his mouth. you listen, obedient. the orgasm from earlier had flushed out any rebellious streak you may have had in you.
you move slow, curling around the elastic of his boxers, tugging them down. each inch of skin exposed has your thighs tightening, walls fluttering around nothing. oscar just watches as you realize what you've gotten into.
"no fucking way," you mutter, eloquent. oscar's cock is long and thick, hanging heavy between his legs without his boxers holding it up. the tip is an angry red, matching the flush that paints his chest and cheeks. he's trimmed about as neatly as he could be despite the trail of fuzzy hair that would lead you think otherwise.
oscar grins lazily at your reaction. "yes fucking way." his cock twitches, a blurt of pre-cum dripping from the tip. your thumb stretches to catch it, making oscar hiss through his teeth. his hips jerk forward. "fuck—lay down."
it's not something you need to be told twice.
reclining back against the pillows, you spread your legs wide open. one hand trails down your belly, cupping your sex. oscar's eyes dart to follow your fingers, tongue peeking out as he wets his mouth. he lets you play with yourself for a moment, watching the way your fingers spread your cunt open, how you dip a finger into yourself, how your head falls back with a sweet, bitten-off moan. he wants to swallow you whole.
kneeing himself forward, oscar grips his length in one hand as he pushes one of your thighs up and out of the way. your hands freeze, eyes wide when you realize what exactly is about to happen between you and oscar. a quiet mewl leaves you when you feel yourself leaking more slick onto the motel bed.
oscar bats your hand away. his cock bobs where it's gripped in his fist, looking so hard and flushed it must hurt. and you… well, you can make it better.
"ready, baby?" oscar asks, voice rough as he rocks his hips forward. his length slips through against your cunt, slicking himself up. your eyes flutter shut for a second as his tip catches your clit, hips jerking up. oscar just chuckles, amused by the reaction. he moves his hips harder, teasing you now. you whine, reaching to wrap your hand around him.
"don't—i said don't tease me… please, i'm giving you what you want…" oscar can't say no when you beg so sweetly for him…
"shh, i'm gonna give it to you, sweetheart. gonna give it to you…" he trails off, eyes stuck on the way your cunt wraps around him, slick and swollen. "'m gonna ruin you."
without anymore preamble, oscar aligns himself before he pushes in, just the tip. your eyes widen at the pressure—at the stretch. sure, it'd been a while, but oscar was just… he was going to split you in half. your walls tense and flutter around him, sucking him deeper.
he sighs at the feeling, eyebrows raising as his eyes fall shut. a strangled, high pitched sound escapes oscar, rocking his hips back and forth to get you used to the stretch. "holy fuck," he breathes. once his eyes open, he looks down to see you fisting the pillow beneath your head. your mouth is dropped open, clearly not expecting him to feel like that. and it's only the tip. "i can fucking feel you trying to suck me in."
you groan at his words, eyes squeezing shut when he sinks another inch inside. a deep breath fills your lungs, only to be punched out as oscar pushes in deeper, deeper, deeper. by the time he's bottomed out, your thighs are trembling where they're pressed against his hips, eyes barely open. your pussy throbs, walls squeezing tight around oscar's cock. he groans, a deep and satisfied sound as you practically milk him.
"can you feel me, baby?" oscar whispers, moving a hand to press against your stomach, right below your belly button. "can you feel me right here?" his index finger swirls and circles around right about where he estimates his tip sits.
letting out a wheeze of a breath, you nod. your voice is strained when you say, "can feel you in my fucking throat, holy fuck, oscar…" there's a self-satisfied smile on his face, smug and proud of himself for finally getting what he wants. for giving you what he's known you wanted all along.
"god, you're so fucking—" he starts, pulling out just barely, only to shove himself in again. it punches a sharp breath out of you, head digging back into the pillows. your hands find his biceps, grappling for something to hold onto. oscar smiles blissfully when you let out a choked-off noise. "tight."
you whimper, nodding while your hands try to find purchase wherever they can. oscar tuts, surprisingly composed for someone whose dick is being strangled by a pussy as tight as yours. well, maybe he's just that big. it certainly inflates his ego a little bit.
"easy, sweetheart," oscar coos, grabbing your hands. he laces your fingers together, pinning your hands beside your hand. "just relax for me. open up. let me in."
something about the way he says it, low and accented and voice like warmed honey, has you listening. you breathe in, slow and deep, letting your walls relax as best as they possibly could. he knees forward again, letting go of one of your hands to hike your hips up into his lap. the change in angle has a shocked cry leaving you.
oscar drops his head. one hand grips your hip where it's cradled by his own, thrusting forward to start up a rhythm. it's long and languid, oscar nearly pulling out all the way before he's sliding back in. he can feel you clenching and pulsing around him, eyes rolling back as his cock punches that sweet spot over and over.
stars line your vision, hips rolling to meet his. "oh, fuck, oscar!" you cry, back bowing taut when he bottoms out inside you again. he groans, deep and throaty before he's leaning over you. it makes your thighs stretch, pulling the muscle in a way that borders on the right side of sore. "ngh—hah—please."
oscar curls his body over yours, caging your head between his forearms as he fucks into you, thick cock stretching you open. the way he moves, the way he kisses you—all teeth and tongue and low, crooning noises each time your walls tighten up around him—it feels like he's fucking you with a point to prove. to say that he did this. he made you cum. he had you begging for his cock. that is was him who carved out a space inside you and left you ruined for anyone else.
he moans, whiny and soft, into your mouth when you buck your hips up to meet his. it's a sweet sound, immediately followed by a broken yelp when he tangles a fist in your hair and pulls, tilting your head back to suck dark, purpling bruises into your skin. "osc—oscar," you pant, eyes wide. "no—don't leave marks."
oscar just groans, digging his teeth in deeper, sharper. he nips at the skin beneath your jaw, tongue laving a pathway from your chin, all the way to your ear. a loud, keening moan leaves you, startled by the sudden onslaught of pleasure. his teeth dig into your earlobe, pulling and suckling roughly. it punches a throaty cry out of you, not expecting it to feel that good.
"oh, do you like that?" he breathes, right into the ear he was licking and sucking at. there's an airy giggle that follows it when he licks at the shell of your ear, groaning when you squeeze around him. "fuck, yeah… do that again. c'mon, baby. squeeze me."
at this point, it isn't even intentional. oscar's fucking into you at a pace you hadn't imagined he could find. his hips were slapping against the backs of your thighs, the harsh sound of skin on skin filling the small motel room. a tiny voice in the back of your head hopes you're being at least quiet enough that you won't receive a noise complaint.
oscar's cock drills into you, hands pushing your thighs up, spreading you wider and wider as his mouth attaches to your neck. sweat beads along your hairline and pools in the dip of his back where your hands are scrabbling for purchase.
"perfect—fucking—pussy—" oscar growls. his nails dig rough crescents into your skin where he's keeping you spread out. you can feel your own wetness leaking around his thickness and staining the sheets beneath you. "fuck, 'm g'nna cum."
you whine, walls tightening again, fluttering around his cock like you're trying to keep him inside, wanting him as deep as he can get. "please, osc. n-need…" oscar just shushes you, presses his mouth to yours hotly. he releases one of your thighs, snaking his free hand between your bodies where he finds your clit. roughly, he rubs tight, little circles into it, shuddering at the wail you let out.
"yes!" you cry, legs wrapping around his waist, ankles crossing to keep him close. "fuck, yes, osc… oscar, 'm gonna…" a sob hiccups out of your throat, warmth pooling and pulling harshly in your belly. "oh, my fucking god… you're gonna make me cum—!"
"yeah, i am," oscar grunts, hips snapping against yours twice before he speeds up again, focused on giving you the most pleasure possible. his fingers are soaked where they're pressed to your cunt, circling your clit until oscar can feel your thighs trembling around him. "cum for me, baby. cum on my cock."
it feels like that was all you needed, his permission, before you're arching up, nails dragging pretty, pink lines down the expanse of oscar's back as you cum. white explodes across your eyelids when they squeeze shut, mouth falling open. you think you moan, though you don't know what. it felt like oscar's name, chanted like a prayer. each syllable getting louder and louder until eventually, oscar has to slap a hand over your mouth to quiet you.
oscar cums like that, too: hand tight over your lips, hips stuttering as he fucks in twice more, then buries himself in to the hilt. the noises he makes are breathy and high pitched—whined little sounds, choked off and hoarse, like he couldn't believe he was finally getting this. getting you.
as his hips slow to a stop, oscar moves his hand away to press a hot, searing kiss to your lips. it's mostly all spit and tongue and the taste of oscar's toothpaste on your tongue. you whimper, blinking your eyes open slowly as he pulls away. his hand cups your cheek, gentle and shaky. oscar's thumb swipes at the space beneath your eye, tender. if he wasn't still buried inside of your pussy, you'd find the gesture sweet. romantic, even.
pretty brown eyes stare down at you as you finally feel like your vision is focused again. oscar's mouth a bright red, lips bitten and swollen from kissing. sweat clings to his temple, but there's a flush to his cheeks. it has your heart stuttering in your chest.
oscar smiles at you, pecking your lips once more before he nuzzles his nose against your cheek, gentle and delicate. you sigh at the touch, blissed out and full of something you can't quite put your finger on. whatever it is has you floating higher than a cloud.
"did so well," oscar mutters, peppering kisses to your face. "so fucking perfect, just like i knew you'd be." the hand on your cheek moves to stroke gently at the skin of your stomach. you can feel him softening inside you, cock nearly ready to slip out.
it's then that a new feeling washes over you. cold, like a bucket of ice dumped over your head. your eyes widen, voice shaky as you whisper oscar's name. "did you—did we—did you fucking cum inside me?" you ask, looking up at him.
oscar's cheeks turn bright red, flushing a deeper shade than he'd been all night. "i—" he starts, swallowing. "you didn't—i thought—was i not supposed to?"
"oscar!" you whine, hands covering your face. "oscar, what the fuck!"
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copying, translating, or reposting my work in any capacity is prohibited!
© oztri
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emmaxdelicate · 18 days ago
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lando we can be world champion i said
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emmaxdelicate · 24 days ago
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Such a cheater, he was CLEARLY looking at the map on the screen
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emmaxdelicate · 1 month ago
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“I’m gonna drink it. After. And you are. We’ll share it. Straight from the can, yeah?”
Lando’s blabbering, tongue gone thick and uncooperative, breathing with his throat.
Crouched like some kind of pervy doctor between Oscar’s trembling knees Lando’s close enough that he could kiss the base, just by jutting his chin and pouting his lips. He could lick it, if he wanted to. The hollow where it dips in. The serial number. The expiration date.
Once the thought’s turned into a picture he doesn’t want anything else, forgets to take a new breath until his head swims imagining the taste. There’s nothing except the heat in his gut and fizzing joints stuck in one position for too long and getting his mouth all over the tangy metal of the can that’s lodged tight in the opening stretch of Oscar’s cunt, shiny with condensation. Still fridge-cold. His tongue darts out, hungry.
“Fuck me let me get it in first, will you?” Oscar groans, shifting his hips to open the way.
Lando shuffles up onto his knees to get a better look. A different angle. Swapping the impossibly taut dusky skin beneath the can for the exposed bulge of Oscar’s clit.
“Yeah,” he says, far away. Mumbled from the doorway, not his own mouth. “Do you want a hand, I can—”
Oscar slaps out, bats at Lando’s outstretched wrist with the hot flash of a warning, don’t you dare.
“Hands off,” he snips, tight at the edges in a way Lando knows better than to argue with. It’s not that Oscar sounds worried. The way Lando would if something that impossible was being worked into his body. He’s just angry, a bit. Grumpy that he can’t make his body do what he wants. “It’s the angle, there’s no room, let me—”
And Oscar’s right. He’s all stiff like this, slim fingers skidding frustrated over the frosted Monster stripes, everything that's usually soft and slippery bunched up inside at weird angles.
“Pillow?” Lando offers, scrambling off the bed to grab the spare that Oscar had thrown to one side in a huff when his cunt didn’t immediately swallow the can in the way that he’d promised it could with his hands down Lando’s shorts.
Oscar accepts it with a slow eye roll. Slips the few shining inches he’d managed to stuff inside himself out and tucks the pillow under his hips. It’s obviously better. Straight away, Lando can tell. Like this, he can see right inside Oscar, up into where pink goes dark.
Lando has to shove some knuckles between his teeth to keep from reaching out to touch. Just about anything else would fit inside Oscar now, the way he’s been stretched. Fingers, lots of them, or Lando’s dick, or something colourful and stripy from under the bed for when Oscar wants it in both holes at once, but—
“You’ve got it this time, easy,” he says, wet fingertips brushing the bony knob of Oscar’s knee. “The whole thing I reckon.”
Oscar nods stiffly. Like he doesn’t need to be told because he’s already decided that, actually. Has figured out where he was going wrong and set about fixing it while Lando stared.
“Wait,” Lando starts.
He sucks at the spongy insides of his cheeks until spit pools on his tongue. Leaning over the determined spread that Oscar makes he lets a foamy glob drip from his lips, spreading the adrenaline-thick slip of it over Oscar’s clit until he hisses and jolts, dropping the can from where he’s attempting to dry the sweat of condensation against his ratty pyjama top.
“That helps,” Oscar sighs roughly, his clit jumping at the contact. “You can do that again.”
So Lando does. Three mouthfuls, pulled and spat until Oscar’s shining with it, wet all over and ready.
“You should do it,” Oscar says, lying back and taking a deep breath until his stomach distends, his fingers joining Lando’s to work the last of the spit around.
“Right so what happened to hands off?” Lando softens. “I don’t wanna hurt— If I can’t feel it I don’t know—”
“Nah you won’t.”
Lando’s not sure. Now that he’s got the can in his own hand, heavy with fizz, it looks like something for the fridge door, the centre console of a car, something plastic and replaceable, not there, not inside. He could go for a fuck. The idea’s enough.
“It’s yours,” Oscar says gently, tangling his spit-sticky fingers with Lando’s own. “S’got your name on it. You should put it in me.”
“You know when I said, about—” Lando swallows. Grits his teeth. “About my—” He nods at the can. Monster. Bright and incriminating.
It’s fucking stupid, the way that things sound when he’s not mid-fuck. When his ears are working again and he has to listen to the sound his voice makes saying it aloud.
Oscar barks a laugh.
“I meant, well I didn’t mean this,” Lando says, toppling the can from side to side.
“Worried you won’t measure up after I’ve had the real thing?” Oscar smirks, brows pulled into a wiggly little wave that Lando wants to lick away. “That I might get a taste for it?”
Lando fits the blunt base of the can against Oscar’s open hole and adds enough pressure to wipe his face blank.
“You hate the way it tastes.”
Cold millimetres slip deeper. Oscar gasps.
“You fucking hate it too,” he says, eyes wide.
The slide’s easier now, what with the greedy way that Oscar’s body reshapes itself to let the width of the can in. He’s stretchy, like this, elastic and swollen. Wet enough to pull apart and get inside.
“Let me know, if you want me to stop—” Lando’s burning. His eyes and his muscles and everywhere that Oscar’s skin touches. He’s really doing it. Oscar’s letting him. “Fuck. Oscar, fuck.”
Another gentle push and the can is more than halfway inside Oscar, disappearing between them, bright green against flushed pink.
“Can feel it—” Oscar grits out. “The, your, the pattern. The, oh God.”
“It’s nearly, the whole thing, can you—”
Oscar’s knuckles are white in the sheets, a film of sweat coating his chest. His nipples look hard enough to hurt. Lando already wants him tomorrow, and the next day.
“The whole thing.”
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emmaxdelicate · 2 months ago
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okay what the fuck
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emmaxdelicate · 2 months ago
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okay what the fuck
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