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virq-qgo · 2 months

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hii babe im just begging for a rough tag team with wolverine nd deadpool

I’m so sorry, I just saw this 😢 I’m a working woman, gotta make my money and spend it all at Adam and Eves. Anyways.. I hope this is good for you bookie, I put only my brain and boobs into it 😘

Request are still opened ❤️

Warnings: smut, my writing, obvi not proof read because I’m not all that.. female bodied.

If anyone had told you a few minutes ago that you would be on your back, getting absolutely cocked out by Logan. And having your mouth filled of it by wade. You would have laughed in their face. Because you are no man’s slut.

But here you are, laying on wades bed. Logan’s cock so full inside of you. His hips thrusting so hard against yours. Your poor pretty hips bruise.

It’s not like you can complain though, after all, wade is fucking your throat. But why would you complain? Getting absolutely dicked down by the two men you’ve had the hots for awhile is a dream come true, really it would be any girls dream.

Muffled moans attempted to escape your filled lips as your sore legs tighten around Logan’s waist. You were finally going to cum, after forever of torture. You finally get your reward.

Your eyes pooled with tears as you feel that little something snap in you, as you stupidly thought that this was your moment. That was until it was brutally ripped away from you.

Logan looks at you with a satisfied yet sadistic expression. “Aw, poor girl, finally thought she was about to come.” In a flash of the moment, you were flipped to your stomach. And Logan’s rough hands grab at your plush hips. Slamming himself back into you. “Too bad that bad girls don’t get to cum.”

A cry escape your lips as you feel Logan slam back into you. Your face is burrowed into the sheets of the bed as the pace Logan was brutally fucking you was putting holes in the walls from the bed.

You were too busy whining to notice that wade and Logan were bickering back and forth.

“My turn wolvie, I want to fuck my pretty slut next.” Wade pressed, his scared hands running down her body. “We’re switching places.”

Logan didn’t like this idea, knowing that wade would give in and let you cum. You were getting punished, you didn’t get to cum. “You’re not getting your dick wet, it’s my pussy that I’m fucking.”

Wade did not like this response, he pulled Logan away. Feeling so incredibly horny once he heard you whine at the feeling of being so empty. “Don’t worry princess, I’ll be filling this pussy up so nice for you. The only thing you’ll be remembering is how good my cock is.”

Wade gave you no time to think as he thrusted into your abused hole. One hand on your hips, the other wrapped around your front, playing with your sensitive clit.

“You’ve been my good girl, must be because I’m better. But I want that pretty pussy to milk my dick.” He praises.

Wade teased, crescent marks are left in your hips from how hard Wade squeezed your hips. Moans fall from his lips as he felt your sweet hole squeeze his cock. He couldn’t hold himself back, Wade pressed your body down into the bed. Fucking you at an incredible pace, hitting all of your deep spots.

Logan watches the both of you, his cock so unbelievably hard, it hurt. His tip was aching and wet. He was turned on to the extreme, watching you moan like a damn porn star because of how good Wade is fucking you. It almost made him jealous.

He watches how Wade thrust faster than he has before, and watches how you try to claw at anything you can reach. Logan couldn’t help but find his cock with his hand. He wasn’t mad that you came around wades cock, or how the way your pussy clenched around nothing while his hot load was dripping out of you and down your thighs. Logan was so totally jealous, wanting it to be your pussy milking him instead of his own hand. Wanted it to be his load dripping out of you.

Finally, he had enough. Logan stood back up, pushing Wade to the side. “I hope you aren’t tired buba, because we only have just gotten started.”

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aly4khq · 15 days

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𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐇 - ✩✩✩

✩✩✩ - 𝓼𝔂𝓵𝓾𝓼

ꜱᴜᴍ: your little stalker crow overheard you talking about sex with him but it didn't go how you thought it would.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: edging, sex from behind, hair pulling, bondage, marking, pussy eating, crying, praise.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1k+, i think because i did the calculation and then forgot it all!!

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: i can't believe that sylus has taken over my mind like this, but i will forever be a rafayel girlie 🤞🏾

"i promise you that it's never been hard to take dick, all you need is the strength, errr–technique!, the right man and the right puss, if you get me." you casually spoke to your friend as the two of you sat and ate your food in a restaurant, the atmosphere calming even thought the conversation was taking more of a deeper meaning — which all started with the question 'how do you take dick in such a small hole?'. the same question that you used to ask to your friends when you were a virgin, well, when you and sylus weren't together yet. but this conversation about sex in general only began when she had asked about how it was like dating the one and only Head of Onychinus, Mr Sylus himself. and probably how you survive being with a merciless, roughed-edged man.

"yeah but what if you aren't the problem?" she spoke like it was the most obvious question ever, your head tiring in response. urging her to continue, she complied, "what if you are all prepared and sexy and shit but the other one is..lacking horribly in that department. you do realise that we're talking about modern men here, not your love obsessed man you've gotten. i mean—" she rambled on, forgetting all about your food and her carbonara that sat untouched on the table near the window. the both of you enjoying your time and speaking to the other.

"yes but that's why you don't have sex on the same day you meet them you dumbass, you wait. if you want a little...pleasure or so, then i beg you just buy a massive dildo and firm it." she looked at you like there was the biggest disgusting deep secret that was suddenly displaced on your face, a deep frown as you sighed in response. "come on, boo. what do you want me to say to ease your worries?" your tone went from calming to worried, wanting to help your younger buddy with her poor scared self.

"um...this sounds so disgusting and weird but what was your first time like?" they bluntly asked, their eyes diverted from your figure to the table— the window— oh the table again. they were obviously nervous to begin with, not wanting to overstep boundaries but also just wanting some advice with someone they trust. "well..you know, my first time was with my current mannn—" "okay we get it, get to the point." you scoffed, kicking their ankle under the table as they hissed. their hand going to rub the poor slightly throbbing flesh that you currently assaulted. "pardon you? don't get bratty with me, missy."

"anyway, he was gentle with me. taking it slow and easy, but also testing my limits a little, trying to see how much i can really take but also trying to ease me into it-do you get what i'm saying?" they nodded, my hands rested under my chin as they listening intensely. you thought, a finger on your lip as you hummed. it was a comfortable silence until they spoke up, pretending to be annoyed. "do you guys rawdog each other so much you've forgotten? if he that obsessed?"

you let out a hearty chuckle, before trying to answer, only to be interrupted by them again. their scoffs of fake innocence but also curiosity filling the table. "what the best size for a dick?" as the silence grew, your finger went to your bottom lip that was jutting out, deep in thought. many many sounds going through your poor brain until you realised. your body slightly flinched, your hands dropping from your lips as your eyes widening. like a light bulb popping beside your head, the thought came into your mind. both of your eyes finally met, your playful gaze scaring everyone that sees.

"well, the best ones are ones that are thicker instead of longer, the longer it is the harder it is to take personally. i've never met someone with both though—" you were interrupted by your phone vibrating in your pocket, the familiar feeling instantly made you dig you hand in and check who was calling you at this time. oh, speaking of the devil, it was sylus. your finger pressed accept, before you put it on phone instead of speaker. you held the phone to your ear before pressing your ear and your shoulder together to continuing eating your food. your friend also continuing, eating her barely touched food.

"hello?—" "the best ones are thicker than longer huh?" you halted, your friend staring at you in confusion as you tried to come back to earth, the switches turning in your mind. after finally finding a way to speak, you let out a little nervous giggle, "well—um, i think it's true..?" his deep chuckle was enough to give you and idea of what's awaiting you. "come home. and quickly, sweetie." with the three buzz's, you realised that he was not gonna let you forget about this one. "...mephisto that silly silly bird..." you politely spoke to your friend, "hey sorry, sylus needs me at home, are you okay with me leaving now?" your friend was confused until a playful smile came onto their lips, "someone's gonna get dicked downnn." you slapped their shoulder roughly before calling a waiter to pack the food for you too.

once you both had split your ways and you were finally back in the comfort of his mansion, you walked through your bedroom door before instantly being retrained by the hands. a crimson and black misty string surrounding your wrists as a tough, firm arm came around your neck, holding your flesh gently. "thicker...is—" his grip tightened. "—better, but you've never met someone with both?" your own hands struggled against his evol, eyes shocked but it slowly changed to one's of playfulness. but he beat you to it, "why are you lying, kitten?" you let out a huff of brattiness, "well it's true, is it not? i'm not lying, basta—ARDD! sylus!" he flipped you over, shoving you onto the bed. your stomach on the edge of the mattress as you scoffed. "you!—" "i'll remind you of what it's like."

and thats how it started.

his hands pulled on the waistband of your skirt, the material was slowly ripped off of your body. the sounds of strings of fabric being pulled away from each other filling the room that was already stuffed with lust and anticipation. but that beautiful silky skirt cost you a good £10 in primark, "hey! that skirt cost me a good tener!" you complained, your head turning to stare at the drunk man behind you, his own glare was focused on your peachy butt admiring the shine from the moonlight before it shifted to your eyes. his glare alone makes your pussy clench, clench around absolutely nothing but air.

reluctantly, your head turned back around, resting the side of your head on the soft duvet below you as your arm stayed trapped behind your back. a deep sigh can from your mouth as you got comfortable, but not for long. you hissed, feeling the sharp sting of his fingernails digging into your skin. the amount of force being put into it was incredibly pleasurable. the pain nearly instantly turning into delight, shameless moan escaping your mouth. "uuhhh!...mhm..!" just then, his fingers ran over your skin that was dented with his marks, the feeling overwhelmingly ticklish. his fingers only giving you satisfactory and he has barely even undressed or touched you properly. you squirmed like crazy, twitching at every sensitive touch on your curves.

"ah! sylus!" you backed away, trying to escape the moment. his chuckles were annoyed, he was so annoying. his hands pushed you back onto the back by your thighs, his purlicue just lifting the gloves of your ass up to feel the softness of your skin. "jeez, take a picture it'll last longer—"

CLICK! you halted at the sound, it was normal for you to be photographed by him but what confused you was why the sound was on. "did you put the shutter sound on just for that?" you scoffed, trying to make him sound petty — which he is — before he latched his mouth onto your pussy just like that. "oh! wow- ah! there! right there..." he was ruthlessly sucking on your folds, your thighs clenching around his head tightly at the sensation. the feeling of his tongue sending shocks up your spine and straight to your pussy. but there was no point because he was already sucking your clit with precision and accuracy.

his tongue reaching far into your hole, swirling around making a mess with your folds. but he wasn't as gentle as he was with his hands, those fingers were just nicely caressing your thighs, running up and down your delicate skin with admiration. a few satisfied grunts coming from his mouth that was covering in your juices. "huuuh!— sy- right there! mhm!" your leg slowly rose from its position on the floor, you body backing up towards him as the feeling became overwhelming, his tongue always managed to make you squirm

his tongue reached deep into your hole, your body clenching around his own organ with sensitivity. "hahhh!" you could feel the tension in your tummy begin to rise, the feeling getting even harder to keep to yourself. yet you could barely even warn sylus. the coil snapped as your let yourself go on his tongue, delighted grunts leaving his mouth as he nodded. "that's some good fucking pussy, jeez sweets." his body lifted from his position of the floor to hover behind you.

the sounds of his belt clanking against the marble floor made you tense up, your thighs pressed together while your pussy clenched around nothing. you could just hear your man undressing, getting ready to take you nasty. but nothing could prepare you from the amount of restraints you were put in. his hands still kept a firm grasp on your already tied hands whilst his other hand went for your locks; pulling gently to hear your sounds. a deep sigh escaping your mouth as he slowly slid himself inside, making sure you feel every inch with precision. "come on," ",a little more." ",you can do way more than that baby." his sounds of praise weee enough for you to tell out his name. birds flapping away from the windowsill at the sound of your scream, sadly one of them being the poor crow that sylus possesses.

he gave you a good 1 minute to relax into his touch before he began moving...at a slow pace, his hands holding onto your wrists as he caressed the soft flesh of your arms and hands to give you some reassurance that you were doing good. "well done...well done baby." his pace only increased once he saw that you were starting to run away from the sheer force of his hips, even though he was going slow, his pelvis connected with the gloves of your ass with a harsh plap! and yes did he continue to torture you. your eyes producing tears as the pleasure and pain from his dick and his hand pulling of your hair, but you were soothed. "shh...shh...don't cry baby. just take it."

you began to squirm, your hips shaking as well as your back arcing and moving around from his body. a scoff echoed the room. "take it," his voice was harsh, the tone rushed yet also so precise with every single syllable. you moaned out loud with delight, feeling him so deep that your speech was nearly gone. his thrust went straight up to your lungs. "you said you've never—" thrust. "met someone—" thrust. "with a long and thick dick huh? huh?—" thrust.

"so take it, take both."

do not steal @aly4khq's work even tho they are trash!

date made: 8-10/9/24

i do not give permission to repost, claim as your own or copy elsewhere.

#l&ds #lads #love and deepspace #l&ds x reader #lads x reader #love and deepspace x reader #lads fluff #lnds mc #lnds #lnds x reader #sylus qin #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #lads sylus x reader #sylus smut #love and deepspace sylus #lads smut #lads sylus

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soup-spoonn · 2 months

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The weight of the world

A certain scene taken from this post by @medusas-graveyard

(Kinda a long part, no TWs :3)

Danny had been living with the Wayne’s for about two months now, and they have long since found out about his Ghost King status.

He’s been exhausted, what with his king responsibilities, batfam responsibilities, and the Wayne kid responsibilities.

King responsibilities are the worst of them all though.

He started down the hall, hearing Dick say, “where’s Danny at?”

“Alfred replied with, “young master Daniel is still resting, and will be with us shortly.”

Then Damian chimed in begrudgingly, “he acts like the most fatigued person here.”

He opened the door to the dining room saying, “convincing actual gods not to destroy humanity is fatiguing, Dames, give me a break.” He ruffled Damian’s hair, who slapped his hand away, not quite registering Danny’s words.

“Danny, what?!” Dick asked incredulously.

“Nuthin’ important,” he said, yawning and stretching widely, his sharp canines bearing for a moment.

He then dug into the plate of food Alfred brought him, ignoring the concerned looks shared around the table.

“So, Danny, wanna talk about what you said earlier? At breakfast?” Dick asked, being the fourth person to today.

“Mmm… no.” He said, for the fourth time today.

“Uhm, well what you said was… concerning to say the least.” He said, trying to convince him to talk.

“Mmm… no.” He repeated shortly.

He wanted to tell them about it, but he knows how his newfound family gets.

When something bad could happen, they all jump to conclusions and start worrying and checking in and spying on you.

It’s sweet really, but unhealthy as hell.

Not to mention annoying.

Nope, Danny is not up for the weeks of stalking. Damn his sleep deprived brain.

“Danny, we need to talk.”

Lovely. Bruce himself is asking to talk.

“Mmm… no, thank you.” He was more polite, as he literally owes this man his life and afterlife.

“Danny.” He said, and Danny stopped in his tracks at the seriousness in his voice.

His heart literally stopped.

“I’m sorry, but I already said all that’s important! There’s nothing else to be said.”

“Maybe, but you should’ve said something. Is that why you’ve been getting home late the past week?”

“Uh… yeah. Sorry, B.”

“It’s not your fault, but you’re too young to have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

“Who isn’t though? And anyway, I’m used to it! You know, one time I brought the entirety of my hometown back from the ghost zone? Not without help, but still!”

Bruce looked taken aback, and replied with, “that’s not a good thing to be used to, Danny.”

“There’s no turning back time. Except for Clockwork, but he can’t change this timeline.” He said with a shrug.

Bruce shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Danny, you should probably talk to your siblings, they’re very concerned.”

Danny heaved a sigh, “think I could just tell Dick? He’s the most approachable. And he likes gossiping, thinks he’s sneaky. It’s hilarious.”

“Yeah, that should suffice.” Bruce responded with a sigh, walking away afterwards.

An hour later, Danny told Dick about the thing with the gods and all that, and Dick looked ponderous, and asked, “how do you convince them? And which gods are they?”

Danny turned pink and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I showed them my memories of you guys… they’re sometimes super nice, and they need a reminder of humanity and their kindness at times… you know?”

Dick looked like he was gonna cry.

“You! Use memories of us! To save the world?!”

“… yeah…” Danny replied, still pink.

“Awwe! I’m gonna tell everyone!”

Danny let out a sigh as Dick skipped off happily, then he continued to his bedroom and closed the door.

He sat in his room at his computer until dinner, then afterwards he returned.

Until it was dark out.

One thing Danny really doesn’t like about Gotham is the fact that the smog over the city makes it so he can’t see the stars at night.

Sometimes he just… goes ghost and flies to above the city, above the smog, and the death, and the pain and misery the city harbors.

He doesn’t tell his family, but he’s ninety percent sure Jason already knows.

He sat in his airy sanctuary, gazing up into the stars longingly, feeling his core vibrate happily.

The stars are so incredibly beautiful and bright.

Danny smiled softly as he felt another presence floating over to him.

Superman.

He turned to the large man, who often joined him in his stargazing, to talk about life.

He’s probably told Superman more than he has Bruce.

About GIW, his responsibilities as Ghost King, his parents and Jazz…

He misses Jazz so dearly.

The two sat in silence for about two minutes, until Superman spoke first, “how’s life going, kid?”

“…I miss my sister.” He said calmly, still staring blankly at the stars.

Superman didn’t share much with Danny, as he likes just helping the boy with his troubles.

He knows of his family, who attacked him three months ago when he told them his secret.

He then traveled toward Gotham, to try to escape the GIW and his parents.

Jason then found him in Crime Alley, about to be attacked by a gang, and took him to Bruce to keep him safe.

Clark knows now that the boy lost everything he loved, and was hoping to be ended by the gang, so he could go back to the stars. (As he said)

Bruce and his family gave him something to live for, and he took a while to trust again after the two very people who raised him tried to hurt him out of- what, fear? Rage? Curiosity? It baffles Clark what their reasoning was for attacking their son.

“I know son, and I bet she misses you too.” He said, offering him the smoothie he brought for him.

Danny accepted gratefully, sipping on the smoothie- ooo strawberry!- as Superman smiled, and his Justice League communication device vibrated, disguised as a watch, and he sighed, looking at the message sent by Batman.

“Sorry, Danny, I have to go, you know, Justice League stuff.” He waved and started toward the closest zeta beam.

Danny sighed, supposing that he might as well go home and to bed, as he hadn’t brought his phone this time.

“Danny’s not in his room?” Tim asked, “ where is he?”

“I don’t know, he left his phone here!” Dick replied, panicked.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?”

“Danny! You startled me! Where were you?!” Dick asked, spinning around to look at him.

“I went on a walk.” He said calmly.

“We’re in Gotham, you can’t just go on a walk.” Jason replied flatly.

“I… I do that sometimes.”

“Whatever…” Jason said, defeated.

“Anyway, we’re gonna play mario kart, wanna join?” Tim piped up.

“Sure!”

Danny and Tim walked off toward the game room together happily.

After Jason kicked everyone’s asses at two games, then teamed up with Dick for the third, everyone was too bummed or pissed to play another round and went to bed.

Dick stayed, as he said he wanted to have a conversation with Danny. He was nervous, but complied.

I will probably continue this but idk :Þ

#dpxdc #dc x dp #danny fenton #✨trauma✨#dick grayson #batman #tim drake #jason todd #bruce wayne #danny phantom #teehee #i tried

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cordeliawhohung · 3 months

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the prowl - single dad! Price x teacher! stripper! Reader (fem) taglist

[2] Room 7

You pity every poor woman whose husband has made a quick run to The Florists just for him to return home with glitter on his clothes instead of a bouquet.

It’s been proven time and time again that the only flowers men enjoy are the ones that dance. Soft stems swaying in the faux wind of the club, eye catching color hypnotizing them into staying for the show. They enjoy the layers. Those soft stigmas that protrude from the core. They enjoy toying with them; picking the petals off one by one until they get the answer to their question.

“Chrysanthemum! You’re up!”

Rich ochre flashes behind you in the mirror as Chrys passes by to get to the stage, and she takes care to playfully slap the exposed flesh of your ass on her way. Grinning, you twist in your scanty attire, teeth framed perfectly with blood-red lipstick.

“Keep doing that and I’ll have to follow you home,” you tease.

Looking over her shoulder, Chrys chuckles. “Yeah, says you and everyone else in this joint. Don’t worry, love, I’ll warm them up for you.”

She vanishes from the room just in time for someone to douse themselves in thick, expensive perfume as if it’s disinfectant. It’s thick and floral — which is fitting, considering the theme of the club — but it’s utterly unwelcomed. It invades your lungs, and you fight the urge to cough lest you ruin your perfectly applied lipstick.

Fog grows on the full length mirror as you huff against it, fixing the corner of your false lashes before stepping back to take a look at yourself. Having worked as an exotic dancer for some time now, there is very little you’re self conscious about. Red, yellow, and periwinkle lingerie press your tits together and compliment your ass to turn you into the perfect sex toy — beautiful petals to be gawked at by the men surrounding the stage you’re about to dance on. Caked on makeup coats your features so thickly your own face can hardly shine through, and the synthetic curls of icy blue hair down your back render you unrecognizable.

Right now, you are not Miss. Lolly. You are not the darling primary school teacher in a pretty dress, lecturing students about dinosaurs and maths. You are something else — someone else.

“Why don’t you just date him? You guys are already shagging in the back anyway.”

“Are you trying to get me fired? Keep your fucking voice low.”

There’s no need to look behind you in order to see who’s talking; you’re more than well aware of Daisy’s… situation. A secret lover with cash to burn and emotions to spew. Borderline prostitution isn’t exactly highly regarded in this industry. It could get the club in severe legal trouble if it was found out one of the dancers gave away more than a quick grope, but all the flowers at The Florists know how to keep their pretty lips sealed shut.

“The only reason we fuck is because he has good dick and gives amazing tips,” Daisy explains as she twirls her bleach blonde hair around her finger.

“In more ways than one, apparently,” Dahlia chimes in as she applies fresh lip gloss.

“Oh, aren’t you cheeky.” Daisy rolls her eyes. “And the reason I refuse to date him, despite how drop dead gorgeous he is, is because I think I would rather die than listen to his woe-is-me moaning, groaning, and complaining every waking moment of the day if I had to live with the man.”

“No amount of looks can drown out self centeredness,” Dahlia concurs.

Closing your eyes, you drown out their conversation in favor of letting your mind rest for a moment. It’s the only moment you’ve been able to capture for yourself all day. Nerves are still fried deep in your brain, and though the throbbing has subsided into a gentle hum, it’s still there. Pulsing with the music, squeezing the blood from your brain until you can hardly hold a coherent thought. Pain twinges throughout your feet, exacerbated by the too-thin straps of your heels. You’ve been standing for too long, teaching and smiling jovially at your primary students with marker stained fingers from joint art projects you keep pinned to the corkboard next to your desk.

No, you don’t have time to think about Miss Lolly.

You are not Miss Lolly.

“Saffron! Go time!”

That’s you.

Figures shrouded in shadows surround the stage when you saunter up. It’s impossible to make out the features of their faces, but you can see their eyes. There’s always a glint. A fervid shine that shows just how closely you’re being watched. An eerie bloodlust to smell the center of the pretty flower about to perform in front of them.

Hips sway with illecebrous aura drawing out slack jawed expressions from patrons as ushers collect generous tips from them. A nymph come to life, they cheer and whistle at you like dogs — or rather, insects waiting to feast on the flesh of your fibers, pretty petals and all. Still, you dance in the synthetic breeze as you bend and twist for their viewing pleasure. Hips bucking. Sliding on your knees. Tits cupped together with your hands as you press your face against the floor of the stage, ass high in the air.

Your head pounds when you sit back up, blue waves of hair spraying around you like mist. Prismatic lights have you bathing in a wonderland of sexual desires and dreams, and still all you can focus on is the pain. No matter how many sultry smiles you flash, or how long Saffron can hang on the poll in center stage, Miss Lolly is still crying over the marcid grip on her ankles.

If it wasn’t for the rank scent of alcohol and cologne, you would have taken a deep breath in relief after you got off that stage. Instead, you keep up the act. This perfectly crafted persona. Expertly sewn second skin. The ushers quickly hand you the cash you earned for your show, and as you slink back into the dressing room, you find yourself praying you attracted enough attention to earn yourself a few requests for private dances.

Back in the dressing room, you’re quickly counting the cash you’ve earned so far while the girls whistle at your earnings. It’s a good start to what’s bound to be a long, torturous night. Though it’s not as much as you’d like to see by the end of your shift, it’s enough to cover the house fees.

You’re stowing away fresh, hard earned cash into your locker when there’s a sharp knock on the dressing room door. Once the girls give the all clear — meaning that they’re as decent as they can be in lingerie and not buttass naked — one of the coordinators opens the door. Tired eyes scan the dressing room, until they land on you.

“Saffron,” he says, waving a black ticket.

Gold floral embellishments glint in the dim lighting of the room, and your eyes nearly pop out of your head in recognition. You haven’t just earned the opportunity to give a few simple private dances — you’re wanted for a VIP session. A long, private dance filled with booze, special requests, and a high payout for you.

You’re about to make half your rent tonight.

It’s not entirely rare that someone seeks you out for a VIP session, so the hallway that leads to the room isn’t unfamiliar to you. Dark paint coupled with erotic photographs line the walls as your heels click against the marble flooring. Muffled music fades into the background the closer you are to approaching the room. You look down at the card in your hand: Room 7.

Its swirling gold letters match the same font on the door in front of you. With a deep breath, you quickly fix the stray strands of your wig before your hand reaches for the knob on the door.

Rich maroon walls close in on a comfortable room with a lone chandelier as the only source of light. As the door closes behind you, any hint of music dies behind it, and you’re left with nothing but silence and your own breathing as you take in the sight in front of you.

Thick, powerful thighs spread wide in pressed dress pants on a large leather sofa. Their circumference is bigger than your head, you’re sure of it. A wide-palmed hand lazily caresses a glass of bourbon on the side table; your patron has been given special treatment with his own bottle of whiskey and bucket of ice, which means extra cash in your pocket. You trace his body, sizing him up with hooded eyes. His broad chest is hardly contained by his slightly unbuttoned dress shirt, allowing thick curls of dark hair to peek above the fabric.

When you get to his face, you freeze.

Neatly trimmed facial hair, alluring blue eyes — you’ve seen him before. He tilts his head at you, hips shuffling forward to lean further back in his seat, belt buckle catching the light just like it did earlier in the afternoon. He even gives you a quiet smile, one that doesn’t quite curl as much as it usually does, and you feel your stomach twist with bubbling bile.

This is no patron; this is John Price. Your student’s dad.

#john price x reader #price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #the prowl #f!reader

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highvern · 4 months

Text

YUCK

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader

Genre: fluff, suggestive moments

warnings: mentions of illness/body fluids (snot, vomit), avoidant attachment from reader, Hoshi best boy

Length: ~2.9k

Note: more of this couples bc im crazy thank u @gyuswhore

series m.list: Houdini [s], Green Light [s, f], Talk [a, s, f], Casual [a, s, f], Mine [s], espresso [f, s]

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Two and a half months of hooking up with a guy who may or may not be a furry and things start feeling…comfortable.

You’ll pretend until the day you die that every time the weekend rolls around you won’t end up naked in Soonyoung’s bed. Or your own. Usually it is your own because he has more roommates than you and yours leaves to stay at her boyfriend’s until Monday night which means there is no need to keep quiet (which you and Soonyoung both struggle with but you refuse to acknowledge that fact).

It allows for many nights bent over the kitchen counter, Soonyoung’s chest hot against the back of your thighs as he works you up with his mouth. Or occasional nights on the couch after you both are too into each other to make it upstairs to your room, planted firmly in his lap while pinning his hands to the cushions. There's also the nights he drags you straight to bed and demonstrates exactly what all the pictures you took while tucked away in the privacy of a gross bar bathroom did to him.

You’re pretty sure Soonyoung has picked up on your game by now because instead of asking ‘if’ he’s taken to asking ‘when’ he can come over. And it's annoying that it doesn’t really annoy you at all.

Soonyoung comes over on Friday nights and leaves Saturday afternoon, except when he shows up on Saturday mornings and stays well into Sunday night. Or the occasional weekend where you remember who you are and show up on his door and leave three hours later with cum still drying on your thigh as you walk past his roommates still pregaming in the living room.

Except now it's Friday and you’ve got nothing on your mind except for the inside of a toilet bowl and the cool tile of the bathroom floor.

Call it food poisoning or maybe the flu, but you’ve been in and out of sleep since the early hours of dawn. Shivering on the floor, the only company you have is a pile of dirty clothes. Even the crack of light under the door is too much stimulation for your illness-racked brain to tolerate.

“Y/N?” your roommate calls from the other side of the darkness, out in the hallway where it's safe from whatever curse is making home in your gut. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay home? I don’t mind.”

“I’m fine,” you groan. Your words couldn’t convince the deaf but you try anyway.

She responds but it slips right past because another bout of nausea takes hold.

You manage to fall asleep at some point, clammy on the floor with aching hips. Maybe an hour or maybe ten minutes. It doesn't really make a difference because you still feel like shit when the door opens and the hall light burns through your retinas.

“Hazel, I said I’m— What are you doing here?” you croak from the floor.

Soonyoung stairs down at you, face soft with something that might be worry but it’s probably just the fever melting your brain. “You look like shit.”

“You always know just what to say.” The usual snark isn’t there, replaced by a pathetic helpless whine of discomfort because all you want is to curl up and die. “Did you come to insult me or…?”

“Hazel let me know you were sick and usually sick people need medicine and soup so I brought that and this tea my mom used to give me as a kid.”

“Are you trying to cure me so you can get your dick wet?”

“No. If I wanted to stick my dick in a Petri dish I feel like there are easier ways to go about it.” He kneels right next to you like he isn’t the slightest bit concerned about catching the plague brewing in your immune system. A cool hand cups your cheek, thumb gentle at your temple where a dull throb has haunted you all day. You lean into the comforting touch without much thought. “When was the last time you showered?”

“I don’t know. Like two days ago?”

“Yeah, I can smell that. Alright my little germ cell, let’s get you cleaned up.”

His arms snake under yours, dragging you from the floor even with your muscles limp. It takes more maneuvering but you don’t bother helping. If he wants to play not-so-sexy nurse and patient then that's his problem. The warmth of his sweater is welcome though.

“Is this some weird fetish thing?” Nose buried in Soonyoung’s chest, it comes out in a jumble. “Because I can’t handle this and the furry stuff.”

“Yes, caring about your health is a fetish for me. Really gets me off knowing you’ve been a good girl and taken your vitamins.”

“I knew it.” you whisper. “I’m not calling you daddy if that’s what you want.”

Soonyoung laughs and the movement sends another bolt of pain through your skull. He tuts over your responding whimper and what may be his lips press to the side of your head briefly. It’s warm and comforting, the beat of his heart lulling you into the first satisfying rest since you woke up. Your hands bunching the front of his shirt are desperate for anything to keep you steady.

Thankfully, he doesn’t release you while setting things up for a shower; accommodating for your weight with a slow shuffle and more placating coos against your hairline every time you protest a sudden jostle. The chill of the bathroom fully sets in when he pushes down your sweats and shucks off your snot stained sweater before tossing away his own. If you weren’t barely functioning it might even be impressive that he��s kept you in his arms the entire time.

“If you’re trying to fuck me, I hope you don’t mind snot.” You blow your nose against the curve of his neck just to be a bitch.

You feel more naked under the stream of water than you ever have, which is ironic given you’ve had Soonyoung face to crotch more times than you can count. Something about the non-sexual nature of nudeness, feeling the least sexy you ever have while he scrubs you down with gentle hands, turns your stomach more than before.

“I’m not trying to fuck you,” he laughs again; a thousand volts straight to the heart. “Don’t worry.”

You pop out of hiding, hurt by the idea. “You don’t want to fuck me?”

Soonyoung’s face is soft, cheeks round and hair already damp to his forehead. He isn’t disgusted by the puke on your breath or the sweat matting your hair. Or if he is, he hides it well. “I always want to fuck you but right now I’m trying to make sure you don’t die.”

You dive back into his shoulder, mind numb to anything beyond the silky feel of hands washing away days of ick. You’ve felt his hands on almost every part of your body but right now they lack the characteristic urgency from those moments where you can’t get enough of each other quick enough. He’s touching you the way he does in the glow of the moon after you’ve both been satisfied, when Soonyoung thinks you’re asleep and you let him as every curve and dip and hill of your body is covered in gentle strokes like he’s committing you to memory.

“I can do that on my own,” you argue.

The facts aren’t stacked in your favor right now but it’s the principle: you don’t need him to take care of you. You can handle it on your own. He’s only here because you let him.

“Oh, I know. Now close your eyes so I don’t get soap in them.”

He cups your face, thumbs rubbing away the sweat that's been caked on since morning. Then it’s a rough washcloth doused in the scent of your face wash but you swat it away in favor of the calluses on his fingers. If you weren’t a dead woman walking he’d never get a chance to be this close.

How is it more terrifying for someone to wipe away your boogers than let him see you naked multiple times a week? A question knotting your stomach into tight pieces as Soonyoung hums some tune you don’t recognize like he’s more than happy to do so.

Your brain stops working after so long; too exhausted from everything to think more about what this all means. Not even the familiar flat press of his front against yours can incite a response beyond content. All the world shrinks into the pitter patter of the water swirling around the drain, and the parts that are warmed by Soonyoung and the parts that are waiting to be.

When you come back to awareness, the waters off and he is whispering something into your clammy forehead.

“Hmmm?”

“I said, it’s time to get out.”

More shuffling gets you back into your room where the mattress takes your weight while he digs around for fresh clothes. You roll onto your side, clad in a towel and nothing else, resound to fall asleep then and there.

“Alright, arms up,” he commands.

You try to pull away, diving back into the pillow soaked from your hair but Soonyoung gets you up at the waist, maneuvering stiff limbs patiently.

“Do you have an armpit fetish too?” you ask with the collar stuck around the top of your head.

“And you call me a freak?”

Next is pants, and it takes a few tries for you to even consider being helpful. Soonyoung lifts each leg individually, working the fabric as far as he can. Then a few dramatic grunts from coordinating your entire body weight but you’re back in a clean pair of pajamas and tucked under the covers. Soonyoung didn’t rise to any more of your snide remarks about being naked. He simply avoiding your bare skin like it’d burn. Not even his favorite thing about you (boobs) gets any attention, just a few chuckles and more kisses into your temple.

You melt into the plush mattress, hidden beneath a pile of blankets from the cruel world that cursed you with new realizations you're not prepared for just yet.

Eyes closed the entire time, you hear Soonyoung leave without so much as a goodbye. In theory it’s what you want. Exactly how you prefer; you alone, him somewhere you can pretend all the confounding feelings don’t exist. You didn’t even want him to show up in the first place, but now that he’s been here and you’re horrifically aware how nice it feels to have someone take care of you. You miss him.

And as soon as the pit opens up, you hear someone shuffling down the hall coming towards your room.

“Alright, once you eat something you can sleep.”

The thought of food tightens your stomach more than the fact he didn’t leave you but he’s right. You need fluids and you’re not strong willed enough to get them yourself.

After the first few bites, you feel a little more human and less like a walking sack of shit. With it, the discomfort of this entire ordeal rears with a new vengeance.

“Why are you here?” It sounds like an accusation.

He doesn’t even miss a beat. “Because I like you.”

Soonyoung says it matter of factly, the same way the sky is blue and water is wet, while shoving another bite into your mouth.

You’re too exhausted for a fight right now; not with the only person making a real effort to keep you alive, but the instinct is strong after years of low expectations and plenty of disappointment.

“Why?”

“Because I just do.”

Your eyes meet over the spoon. He doesn’t look annoyed or perturbed or even angry. He likes you whether you like it or not.

“I don’t date.”

“Okay,” he agrees, wiping at the spill dripping from your chin.

“You aren’t gonna argue?”

“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ and your need for confrontation with it. “You don’t wanna date? That’s fine. I’ll take whatever I can get, even if that’s spoon feeding you on your deathbed.”

You take the next bite before commenting, “You’re so weird.”

“I like you too. Now open up for the airplane.” He makes the noise and the medicine twists your brain into actually finding it funny. “How are you pretty even when you’re blowing your nose on my shirt?”

“Deal with the devil.”

He passes you a cold cup when you brush away the remainder of the soup. One sip is all it takes.

“How did you know I like the orange Gatorade?”

“I asked Jun to give me June’s number and she gave me Hazel’s number and I asked while I was at the store.”

“You went through all that trouble just to buy me the right Gatorade?” you snort.

“It really wasn’t any trouble.”

It isn’t but it’s more than anyone else has ever done for you. The fresh wave of nausea has nothing to do with your cold.

“I’m tired,” you tell him.

The mess is cleaned up in silence. You pretend to fall asleep and Soonyoung lets you until he’s shoving more medicine your way.

You shake your head, failing to refuse because Soonyoung is doing that dumb airplane nose again and when you cough up a laugh he shoves the spoon in your mouth and you’re left with no choice but to swallow.

Then he’s up and you watch through heavy eyes as he gathers his things. You’ll blame it on the drugs loosening the clutch you have on your emotions later.

“Where are you going?” you ask with faux apathy, negated by the fist tangled in the hem of his sweatshirt in case he evaporates away.

“Home. Unless…you want me to stay?” A tug at the sweater is your answer to that horrible thought. “Oh, thank god – I was getting sad.”

You roll over, offering him your back to curl around. The muscles tensed around your spine soften when he does.

I sleep better when you’re here.

You won’t tell him that but Soonyoung stiffens for a moment and the fear you’ve said the wrong thing creeps in where fatigue hasn’t rooted just yet. But a kiss to your covered shoulder and a hand under your sweater, flat against your stomach so you stay as close as possible calms the thoughts enough you can drift off.

It’s strange. Having the heat of his body at your back without the limpness of a good fuck still coursing through your veins to thaw the parts that hate pillow talk and the stickiness that come with it.

What's even stranger is that you don’t really mind it all. If anything, it’s actually pretty nice.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes

@dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos

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thebibliosphere · 1 year

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Hm. I'm rereading something I wrote, and I can't decide if it's going to be infuriating for some readers, or if there will be more going "OH, same!"

Given that my readership is largely in the Autistic 🤝ADHD vampire fan club (Vlad), I'm hoping it'll be the latter, but it's still making me hesitate because it's not how people expect sex scenes to read.

Everything's usually boiled down to a laser-focused precision of sensations and evocative, heated language -- and that does eventually happen with this. You just have to get past Vlad's brain wandering around for a bit because while Nathan's doing a good job of getting his attention in the moment, he's not being consistent, and it's giving Vlad's brain time to wander. Like noticing that Nathan squints a bit when he reads. ("(Hyperopia, Vlad’s brain supplied helpfully before he could smother it.)") Or just generally having full-on conversations in his head in the downtimes between stimulation -- and by downtime, I mean the split second it takes for Nathan to grab something from the nightstand.

Another part of me worries people will think I'm playing to stereotypes or I'm hamming it up to be "quirky," but given my brain is the epitome of the "hyper 8-year-old boy who can't sit still shiny disorder" despite being a 36yo cis woman, I've pretty much resigned myself to some people calling Vlad a stereotype anyway.

A larger part of me just... kind of really wants to see this kind of thing in a sex scene. I want to see my own thought patterns and acknowledge that even when you're getting hot and heavy with someone -- arguably an act that should consume all of your attention -- you'll still find your mind wandering. You'll notice something out the corner of your eye and go, "fucking shit, laundry, do not forget, do not forget" (and then you'll forget), or you'll be about to go down on someone, and the dick joke your friend told you three months ago will pop into your head and suddenly you're snickering with no tactful way to explain it.

(This is another thing that I always think is sorely lacking in sex scenes. No one's messy. No one's laughing like an idiot because they just thumped their head into the headboard, or a joke just popped into their head. Or someone's body made a fart sound because there's lube in places and things are thrusting. Like, maybe it's me, maybe I'm weird, but I think those are the moments you can build real romance out of. Not necessarily erotica, because those things (supposedly) aren't sexy, but there's so much emotion you can show with partners who are able to laugh with each other in those moments. You can show so much love and reverence through the mundane it hurts.)

It'd just be nice, for once, to have the character be absolved of the guilt that often happens in those moments because you're supposed to be focusing on what is happening, and your idiot brain just won't shut up.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter too much. It's a short story I'm hoping to fling out at some point (as soon as my idiot brain shuts up and lets me finish it). But it feels more important than it actually is because it feels like I'm exposing a major part of my psyche. Like pinning down all the ugly parts of my brain that can't ever actually be pinned down, no matter how much I try.

idk. Words. Things. Stuff. I'm going to try and finish this and then see what I want to do with it.

#long post #writing #adhd writer #rambling with joy #my kingdom for some ADHD meds

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bucks-babe · 6 months

Note

I’ve been here before lol. I just had to let you know, your virgin Bucky stories live rent free in my head. I hope one day to see him become… not a virgin 👀 if you feel like writing it of course ❤️

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, smut, loss of virginity, slightly sub Bucky, soft!dom reader, riding, multiple orgasms (both), overstimulation, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (Don’t do that), copious amounts of cum, like so much, Bucky has a big dick, cumming untouched, cumming in boxers, ball riding (I know, there’s something wrong with me), crying during sex (Bucky this time, not reader lol), crying after sex, aftercare, Bucky is so sweet, taking care of Bucky, washing Bucky’s hair (This is a warning), my limited ass vocabulary (It’s a warning), actual brain rot, no use of Y/N, check tags at the bottom

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: This has been in the works for so long but I took so damn long to finish it. I would have never guessed that so many of yall would be so invested in this story and Bucky’s journey. This is not the last you will see of these two, don’t worry. I think we should give them each a nickname. Leave a comment on what each of their names should be. Legit just had them call each other baby this entire fic. If I end up giving them nicknames, I’ll go back and put them in for all their stories. Anyway, enjoy!

As you slowly open your eyes, feeling the warmth and comfort of Bucky's embrace, a sense of safety washes over you. His strong arms are wrapped tightly around you. As you turn to face him, you see that Bucky is already awake, his deep blue eyes gazing at you with adoration and love. You can feel the rhythm of his breathing, steady and soothing against your skin. In this moment, nothing else matters except for the love and contentment you feel in each other's arms

"Good morning," he whispers, his voice husky with sleep. The sunlight filters through the window, casting a gentle glow upon his face, accentuating the lines of worry etched there.

With a small smile, you shift closer to him, reveling in the intimacy of the moment. "Good morning," you reply softly, tracing circles on his chest.

Bucky's fingers instinctively tighten around you, as if afraid to let go. "Last night... I didn't mean to let go like that" he admits shyly, his cheeks flushing a rosy hue. "I didn't know I was into that." Bucky felt embarrassed, not being used to letting go and having someone else take care of him. It was such a foreign feeling, yet he loved it, being able to trust someone completely, trusting you more than he does himself. Your heart swells at his vulnerability.

"Oh Bucky, it's okay. I liked it, I liked taking care of you. There's nothing to be ashamed about."

Bucky's eyes soften, relief flooding his features as he takes in your words. "You liked it?" he asks, his voice tinged with both surprise and hope.

A gentle nod escapes you, your fingers continuing their soothing motion on his chest. "Yes, Bucky. I enjoyed every moment of it," you reassure him, your voice filled with sincerity.

He exhales a breath he didn't realize he was holding, a weight lifting off his shoulders. "I've never let myself be vulnerable like that before," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm scared of losing control."

A tender smile graces your lips as you cup his cheek, caressing it with your thumb. "Bucky, being vulnerable doesn't mean losing control. It means trusting someone enough to let them in, to share yourself completely." Your words carry the weight of understanding and acceptance.

He gazes at you, his blue eyes reflecting a mixture of desire and hesitation. "I don't want to disappoint you, you know? You've been with experienced men before who knew how to pleasure you. I'm not sure if I can do the same for you." The poor thing was terrified of letting you down. He loves you so much, but what if he can’t please you? Would you leave him for someone better? How many people would even want to be with a man who knows almost nothing about pleasing a woman?

Your hand reaches out to cup Bucky's cheek, your thumb brushing across his rough stubble. His skin is warm and soft under your touch. As you sit up, your hand still resting on Bucky's chest, feeling the faster beat of his heart under your palm. His skin is warm and smooth against your fingertips, a reassuring and comforting touch.

"Last night you gave me the most intense orgasm I've ever experienced with a man. Those other men? They think that one trick that worked on one woman will work on every woman. But you, my love? You listened to me and my body, which is more than most men can say."

Your voice softens as you look into Bucky's eyes, seeing the raw emotion and vulnerability that lies within them. "Bucky, I don't want to give you the impression that you're not enough. You were amazing last night, and I’m glad that you trust me enough to share that part of yourself."

His eyes soften, a look of gratitude and relief washing over him. He leans in to kiss your forehead, his hand brushing against your cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips. "Thank you," he whispers, the words feeling like a heavy weight finally lifting off his shoulders. He takes a deep breath, and you can see a newfound confidence and determination in his eyes. "I want to learn, to be better for you. To make you feel the way you felt last night, every time."

A smile tug at the corner of your lips as you lean in to kiss him gently. "I believe in you, Bucky. And I know that you'll learn and grow, just like you did last night. And I’ll be right there to show you how." With a reassuring nod, Bucky pulls you into a deep and passionate kiss, his hands cradling your face. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine.

Slowly, he pulls away from the kiss, leaving behind a trail of electric energy on your lips. "I want to make love to you today," he whispers. "I want to give you everything I have, and show you just how much I care." Your heart swells with love for the man who would give you anything.

“Are you sure, Bucky? We don’t have to do anything that you don’t feel comfortable doing. I’m perfectly fine waiting for you, however long it takes.” You cup his face, staring into his eyes, seeing determination yet anxiety in his eyes. He wants to do this, have you be his first and only, he’s sure of it.

“Yes. I want more, I want everything with you. Last night, making you feel good, it sparked something in me. I want to do it again. Fuck, you looked so sexy when you came.” Just at the thought of the taste of your pussy and the image of you writhing on the bed in pleasure makes his cock throb, filling with blood. The feel of your naked breasts pressed against him is doing nothing to stop it either.

“If you’re sure, baby, we will. You want to follow my lead or experiment by yourself?” The thought of you trusting him enough to let him do whatever he wants to your body makes him whine, bucking his hip into your bare core, the boxers doing little to hinder the feeling on his sensitive dick.

“Want to follow you, please.” As you take the covers of the pair of you, Bucky’s eyes go right to your tits, hands moving on their own accord to cup them. You’re proud that he was comfortable enough to touch you without hesitancy.

You roll onto your back, Bucky following without a second thought, hands still on you, Bucky sits on his knees, admiring the view of your spread pussy. “I want you to finger me. You remember how, baby?” Of course Bucky remembers how, he remembers how much it made you moan and wiggle on the bed, how you were clenching on them when you came, how fucking tight you got. Bucky nods, right hand moving to your pussy. He needs to use his right hand, needs to feel how wet and tight you are.

Thumb moving to your slit, he gathers the wetness that has been pooling there since you felt his hard cock through his boxers and drags it up to your clit, rubbing it just the way you taught him, the small gasp that leaves your lips lets him know he’s doing it right. His eyes can’t leave your pussy, memorized by the wetness leaving it. He trails his middle and ring finger down and slowly enters you, cock somehow getting even harder at your feel.

His metal hand comes down to rub your clit as his fingers speed up, wanting you to cum so fucking bad. “Just like that, baby. You’re doing so fucking well. Making me feel so good.” Bucky can feel his heavy balls pulling up, cum about to burst from his cock, hips thrusting in the air, meeting nothing. Heat creeps up his cheeks, he knows he’s going to cum before you without even touching anything. He wants so fucking bad to jerk his cock, coaxing his huge load out, but he can’t leave your pussy.

You clench tights around him, your orgasm building up as well. Bucky can’t handle it, the way your head hits the pillows, eyes closed in pleasure, moans getting higher in pitch. Within seconds, Bucky’s cock bursts, cum pouring from his tip, immediately soaking the front of his boxers, leaking down until it lands on the bed, his moans louder than yours. At the sound of his pleasure you cum, clit twitching under his fingers, waves upon waves passing through you.

As you come down from your orgasm, you realize that Bucky is still cumming. “Baby, why won’t it stoppp, fuckk, please, feels so fucking good, shitt, please.”At his words the last of him cum dribbles out. The sight of his flushed cheeks and the soaking wet boxers almost makes you cum again. Sitting up, you push Bucky off the bed until he stands, taking off his underwear and pulling him back onto the bed, laying him down.

“You still want to do anything else, baby?” You desperately want to have his cock inside of you, have him cumming that much in your pussy, letting it leak out all over his balls down to the bed, but if he doesn’t want to go any further you’ll stop, no questions asked.

“Oh fuck yes! Want you to ride me please.” The whole of his sentence comes out as a moan, cock still sensitive and hard, ready for you to take it however you please. Straddling him, you grab him lining him up with your pussy. You look at him and at his nod, you start to sit on him. As soon as the tip breaches you, he cums, and he cums hard. “OH SHIT! FUCK, YES! FUCK I’M CUMMING!” He’s practically screaming, but he can’t find it in himself to care, the most intense orgasm of his life coursing through him.

Hands flying to your hips, he pulls you all the way down, bucking into you with so much force you have to grab the headboard. “ OH FUCKING SHIT! DON’T FUCKING STOP! DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” It’s not like you could even if you tried, only option to take his assault, and fuck if it doesn’t feel amazing. Your moans almost match his in volume, pussy still trying to adjust to the size of him, balls slapping against your ass. After a few seconds, you already feel his cum being forced out of you to make room for his cock. His cum now all over both of your sexes, his balls, your ass, and the bed.

His orgasm lasts minutes, the amount of cum leaving his cock never slowing down, hips never stop slamming into yours. During his orgasm, you cum too, the sight was so hot you couldn’t help yourself. When your pussy was clenching around him so tight he somehow got louder. Eventually, he orgasm abated and his hips stopped, laying limb on the bed.

Shame washed over him, at how much he lost himself to his orgasm, how rough he was with you. “I’m so sorry, baby. Please tell me you’re okay. Please tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

“Fuck, Bucky, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” Bucky’s eyes widen, not expecting you to be so turned on by his orgasm. His cock was still rock hard inside of you, giving you an idea. “What position do you want to do next?” Bucky almost cums again at those words, he knows what he wants, but is almost embarrassed to ask. However, his cock is thinking for him, washing away his inhibitions.

“Can you ride me?” You just smile and start to pick up your hips but he stops you. “From the back.” You throb at that. He wants to watch your ass bounce on him.

You pull off, hissing at the empty feeling and turn around. You grab his cum soaked balls and you feel them twitch in your palm. Pulling them up you turn your head to Bucky. “Do me a favor and close your legs for me.” He doesn’t ask a single question and does so immediately. You let his balls fall on top of his legs and put his cock right back in, not waiting a second to start bouncing, grinding your clit on his slick balls at the end of every bounce.

“Oh, fuck. How does your ass move like that, shit. Looks so sexy.” His hands ghost over your cheeks, not knowing what to do with the sight in front of him.

“Smack my ass, baby.” He groans, and lays a light slap to your right cheek. “Harder, Bucky. Leave your mark on me.” His Oh shit is ignored as he slaps you a little harder, still not hard enough, cock pulsing at the sight of your ass bouncing, feeling it move under his hands. “Don’t be a little pussy, baby. Give it a slap like a fucking man.” Maybe it was a little mean, but you needed to feel his hand coming down on you. His near constant moans get louder, clearing enjoying the degradation. The next slap is hard. “Yes, little harder, baby. Fuck! Just like that, keep going. Don’t stop, want your handprints all week.”

He keeps going, smacking you harder each time. His balls rubbing on your clit pull up and he cums once again. This time, though, he pulls out, jerking his cock, cumming all over your ass. “Fucking shit! Wanted me to mark your fucking ass? Well I’m fucking doing it. Cumming so much. Maybe I’ll just stick my dick in your ass and cum in there too.” You don’t know where that came from, but it makes you ride his balls faster, ass jiggling as he continues to cum on it. “That’s so fucking hot, keeping moving that fat ass on me.” You really don’t know where his dirty mouth is coming from but you don’t care because holy hell is it hot.

Seconds later, Bucky can’t take it anymore and shoves his cock back in your pussy, spreading his legs back out and planting them on the bed so he can fuck up into you. With your ass moving so much with his thrusts, his cum is going everywhere. Bucky lands a hard slap to your cheeks, smacking his cum into them, spreading it all around.

Just like before, he cums for minutes, cum flowing out of your pussy. The entire of both of your hips and your ass and the bed is completely drenched with his cum. When he’s done he pulls you off his cock and spins you around so you’re facing him again. “Baby, my cock is still so fucking hard, I don’t know what to do.” You coo at him, setting your hand against his cheek.

“Don’t worry, baby, I got you.” Instead of slipping his cock back into you, you grind against it, with every roll of your hips his sensitive tip rubs your clit. “Does this feel good, baby?”

“Uh huh, so good.” You see his adam's apple bob and his bottom lip wobble. The feral part of his brain that was fucking you earlier is gone, now your sweet boyfriend is left. He’s not even looking at the way his tip pops out between your folds, no, he’s staring right into your eyes. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against him, every part of your body touching his in some way.

You rest your forehead against his and meet his gaze, tears spilling over and running down the sides of his face. You gently wipe them away but they keep coming. One of his hands goes in between your bodies pushing his cock back inside its home, your warm walls enveloping every inch, both of you gasping. Bucky can’t decide if he wants to keep going or stop, a twinge of pain biting its way up his cock, but you just feel too good. He can’t leave your pussy, needing to cum one last time. The slow grind of your hips never speeds up, gently fucking him, no, making love to him.

Bucky tries to kiss you but the pleasure you’re giving leaves him putty in your hands. The kiss is sloppy and wet, but one of the best kisses you’ve ever had, feeling the words neither of you can get out at the moment. The hairs at the base of his cock rub your clit, building up your final orgasm, Bucky not long behind, trying to hold out for you.

“You’re okay, baby. Want you to cum for me, not far behind.” Any restraint left in Bucky’s body disappears, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he cums for the last time.

“Fuckkk, baby, love you so much, please, I need you to cum for me. Need it so bad.” The slow roll of his tears before shifts to full on sobs, pleasure too much. You pull yourself off his cock, knowing that it’s now too much for him. “No, no, I need you to cum, please.” Your hand trails down your body, fingers rubbing your clit, the sight of you makes Bucky whine, and pull you down into a kiss, where you cum, moaning into his mouth.

You roll the both of you over, placing Bucky’s head on your chest, lightly scratching his scalp, tracing shapes on his back with your other hand. When his tears subside, Bucky is the first to speak. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

You feel a lump form in your throat. Of course you would always take care of him. There is nothing that you wouldn’t do for him. “I love you so much, Bucky. I could never hurt you, only want to give you the best in life. After all you’ve done for me, it’s the least I could do.” Bucky doesn’t say anything after that, not knowing what to say, not being used to such unbridled love.

A few minutes pass before the amount of cum and sweat surrounding you gets uncomfortable. “Come on, baby, lets get cleaned up.” Bucky whines but complies anyway. “Get the shower started for me? I’ll change the bed.” He nods and heads to the shower. You work as fast as you can to get the sheets off and a fresh set on. Still naked you run to the washroom and throw the soiled sheets in the wash and start it before running back to the bathroom.

Bucky is waiting outside of the shower for you, eyes still red from crying, almost shying away from you. Grabbing his hand you lead him into the hot water. “You did so good for me, Bucky. Made me feel incredible. You know, if that was your first time, I’m going to need help from the gods to handle you when you practice more.” That gets a small smile from him. “Don’t get all bashful on me, big man, after you rocked my world back there.”

“Stop it, baby.” His words hold no heat to them, secretly loving your complements. “You did too, rocked my world, you know? Didn’t know it could feel that good. There isn’t anyone else I would rather do that with.” He’s going to make you cry one of these days, saying all this sweet shit to you, and you know he means every single word of it.

“Yeah? How do you feel? Feel okay? I know that was a lot for you.” He dips his head down when you reach for his shampoo, letting you wash his hair, then grabbing the soap and lathering the wash cloth, running it along his body. At the feeling of your soft hands on his body, taking care of him after he gave himself over to you, Bucky can’t respond, too caught up in your love. “Bucky?” Your hands stop, fearing the worst at his silence.

“Feel so good, baby. I…” Bucky chokes up, tears resurfacing. He doesn’t know why he’s crying. You pull him to you, hugging him until he stops. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I just, you make me feel so safe, I can’t control myself, I just feel, you know?” You know because he makes you feel the same way.

“Yeah, I do, baby, I do.”

“Can I wash you?” After you took care of him, Bucky wants to do the same for you, never wanting you to feel like he was using you. You nod and Bucky takes extra care to get all of his cum off of you, cleaning you up just like you did to him. By the time you’re done in the shower, the water’s cold. Bucky takes a towel and wraps you up first. Before he can reach for his, you take it and dry him off.

“What do you want to do now? We can cuddle, get something to eat, watch a movie, whatever you want.” You know how important aftercare is, especially when Bucky was feeling so vulnerable after his first time.

“Can we just cuddle?” He looks almost scared to ask you for such a simple gesture.

“Of course we can.” Taking your hand, Bucky leads you to the bed, foregoing clothes. You pull the blankets up and let him rest his head on your chest, listening to the beat of your heart and steady breathing. Not too long after you hear his light snoring and know he’s asleep, you following soon after in the arms of the love of your life, excited to experience all of Bucky’s firsts with him, seeing him grow, not only in experience, but also confidence.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky smut #sebastian stan x reader #virgin!bucky #Virgin!bucky barnes #Omg this took me so fucking long to finish #thank you for the ask because it gave me the motivation to finish #Sorry to make you guys wait so damn long #Love you all #If you're still reading this drink some water

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dilfl0v3rss · 1 year

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ony is the best baby daddy like he just has that energyyy 😫

rightttttt like he gets the kids on time and if he’s late he will always let you know. he knows how to do his daughters hair and always makes sure his son has a haircut. his kids are always dressed nice and he always makes sure they’re taking care of each other as well as taking care of their beautiful mother.

he still finds himself looking out for you too, always telling the kids to “order sum for mommy” when he takes them out to eat or to “always make sure mommy’s not working too hard”. even on days he isn’t supposed to have them he’d gladly take them if you were feeling overwhelmed. if you’re feeling sick he’ll literally sleep at your house, soup and medicine sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch as he slept just incase you were to wake up in the middle of the night.

he’d constantly “forget” money at your house after he leaves too, telling you to “just get yourself sum nice”. if you give the money back anyways he’d give it to his oldest child, telling them to put it in your wallet for him.

when it’s his weekend with the kids he’d call you every couple of hours to let you know he has everything under control since he knows how worried you could get when you haven’t heard from him i awhile.

he always speaks highly of you to the kids, telling his daughters stories of when the two of you were young and in love and telling his sons stories of how strong you were for him when he couldn’t be strong for himself. your kids would honestly be what got the two of you back together. they’d constantly tell you the stories their father would tell them, reminding you of how happy the two of you used to be and making you realize that you didn’t even know why the two of you called it quits in the first place.

as soon as you called ony he’d answer on the first ring, throwing millions of questions at you since you never really called unless he had the kids. you’d shut him up by asking if he could come over to talk for a little in which he replied almost instantly with a yes. he’d be over there in less than fifteen minutes letting you lead him to your bedroom to talk just incase your kids came downstairs for some water or a late night snack.

of course the two of you didn’t get to talk for more than ten minutes, his dick shoved deep into you as he held his hand over your mouth. “shhh mama you gotta be quiet. ion want you t’wake the kids” he’d whisper, fucking into you deeper as he watched your teary eyes roll to the back of your skull. you’d mumble back a muffled “mhm” as you felt the pad of his thumb begin to circle your clit. you’d whine and moan for him loader and loader, turning him on to the point where his grunts and groans began to come out at a higher volume as well. soon enough the both of you were deep in bliss, fucking on each other just like you used to. you’d tell him how much you missed him and how you’ve never stopped loving him and he’d gladly say it back, deepening his stroke as he left passionate kisses on your lips.

as the two of you finished ony would lay you back down, letting sleep claim you as he moved towards the door to check on his little angels. as soon as he turned the doorknob loud shuffles could he heard from the hallway, the sound of a bunch of feet running towards one of the bedrooms and little whispers of “sh sh shh” and “be quiet” coming from it as he made his way down the hall to check on his “sleeping” children. he couldn’t help but smile when he seen them cuddled up together on a large blanket of the floor, some of the smaller ones in bed with the oldest. they had different rooms, but chose to sleep together often since they were all so close.

ony couldn’t help but notice the small smiles on each of their faces, nothing but excitement and joy rushing through them as they thought about how happy much happier their parents will be now that they’re together again.

i didn’t even mean to write this i just let my brain leak all over the place…

#aot x black reader #onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon x reader #onyankopon x black!reader #aot onyankopon #onyankopon smut #aot onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon x black y/n #aot onyankopon x black y/n #aot onyankopon x black!reader #aot onyankopon smut

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f1crecs · 1 month

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Fic Rec List - Lando/Oscar (Part 2)

if your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let me know and we will remove it immediately, no questions asked. we have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop us a message🤍

have a pairing you want us to do next? please read the faqs and then head to the inbox.

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you can find part 1 here

nsfw: fly the ocean (in a silver plane) by @settsplitt | E | 2.6k Lando and Oscar are fighter jet pilots who share a room on base. Oscar doesn’t seem to think much about the risk of what they do, but it consumes Lando. This is an excellent character study and builds such a big world out of very brief moments. “Hot” and “existential worry” hold hands in a circle around this fic.

He’s practically fucking useless in the briefs and debriefs. He just feels his brain slipping away, to the sky and the seas and angels 10. He knows other people are noticing, but honestly, if they want him to be normal they should fucking put him back with Oscar. None of it matters, anyway, because Lando never has any control.

nsfw: Keep Talking by @wanderingblindly | E | 2.7k This is such a beautifully written fic! The trust and comfort here is really moving - it's a soft, syrupy sort of story, that unfolds beautifully. Love it!

With practiced hands, he slides his fingers into Lando’s curls and scratches lightly at his scalp. It shoots like lightning down Lando’s neck, ringing in his ears.

no proof, not much (but you saw enough) by @ipleadbritney | T | 3.5k Soulmates. Lando and Oscar are pulled aside by the FIA, suspected of an illegal soulbond. What I liked about it: The character voices in this story are absolutely spot on. It's Oscar's point of view and his anxiety about the situation underlying his calm demeanor is a delicate balance this author depicts beautifully.

“Yeah?” Oscar wonders which version of Lando he'll get. Will it be the one who's hyper focused on every tiny detail, including the curls of his hair? Will it be the one who's living proof why some kids deserve to be leashed? Or will it be the Lando who flirts as much as he breathes, one step away from launching his OnlyFans account?

nsfw: Reasons Why Lando Norris Might Be A Werewolf by @fenesacha | E | 3.9k Oscar, a werewolf, starts to notice small things about his teammate that may mean Lando is a werewolf too. (He's not.) What I like it: This fic is funny and breezy with great dialogue and an Oscar perfectly happy to shift gears and take it in stride when he realises Lando isn't a werewolf, but he is something else Oscar hadn't expected.

“Your dick comes off?” Oscar blurts out before he can stop himself. Lando stares at him like he’s stupid, which makes a change. “I don’t have a dick, Oscar. It’s a packer.” Right. Oscar’s not entirely sure what a packer is, but he’s got the gist of it all. “No dick. Okay. That’s cool.” “Is it?” “Yeah, mate.” Oscar’s not a bigot, he’s just having to mentally correct every fantasy he’s had for the past God-knows-how-many years. “You’re trans, then?” “Yeah, but it’s not common knowledge, so don’t go telling all your friends.” Lando turns his head so that he’s looking at Oscar, then frowns. “Wait, so you’re not trans?” “Uh, no?” “Huh, thought you were. You give off those vibes.”

worth the trouble (it was an honour) by @maaxverstappen | G | 4.6k Oscar and Lando started something, knowing it would end. It's all sweeter than it is bitter. I'm absolutely entranced by this fic. The emotion comes across so clearly, such a perfect, gentle bittersweet feeling. I don't re-read fics often, and this is one i've found myself returning to regularly.

They were always good at that, talking without words. Sometimes, and Oscar would never admit this, he would think cough twice if you hear this, being both surprised and relieved when Lando stayed quiet.

nsfw: you signed up for this by @strawberry-daiquiris | E | 6.9k This is a wonderful magical realism au where older!Oscar time travels back and teaches Oscar how to treat Lando properly. I think writing the same character twice and all that separates them is time gone by is so impressive. it really shows great writing skills and characterisation. The smut was obviously so well written but what I loved so dearly about this is how philosophical it was, so much growth for these characters within a single evening. A true must read for the landoscar community!!

He’s looking at himself, like some kind of fucked up mirror at a funfair. It’s him, but there are lines he doesn’t recognise, a heft to his upper body he can’t feel. His face looks older, and his teeth annoyingly, a little straighter. Oscar finds, to his horror, that this is him but hotter. Less hair though, at least there’s that. “Hello.” Not-him-but-him says, with a little wave and a sideways smile. Next to him, Lando giggles, and when Oscar turns to look at him he’s returning the wave, wiggling his fingers and letting the sheet he’d pulled up to his neck drop to right below his nipples. “Stop flirting with him!” Oscar exclaims, then reconsiders his point. “Or me. Or... alright, actually mate, who the fuck are you?”

force majeure by debrief | T | 7k Oscar and Lando get bodyswapped. The author absolutely nails the voices of both characters, Lando's chaotic way of speaking versus Oscar's more measured tone. Its largely constructed as a series of text messages until the last act, which is an inspired way of showing when a character is freaking out - Lando's messages in particular get more incoherent and full of typos when he's upset. The way they gradually draw toward one another as their situation isolates them (anyone else they confide in is erased from existence after), being one another's strength and comfort and support, is really beautiful to watch unfold.

craving for caprficns sn caprin sc capri sus suns capri suns and like so theyre usually on the lower shelf in ther corner i kown cause i alswasy get then here even tho theyre pricier priceri pricier and like they werent there and i double checked i asked the emploeye that was stocking the shelves in the next aisle and she sad said she dones t know what a capri usn is?? she even asked me if it was a zodiac sun zodiac sign shit i cant cry over caprin sun osc

nsfw: love along the way by @gaslybottoms | E | 10k AU, sex work/adult entertainment. Oscar is a videographer for an adult entertainment studio. Lando is one of the performers. Oscar sees Lando struggling emotionally after intense scenes and wants to help him. Lando, though, is very reluctant to accept it. This is a wonderful fic - Oscar is hurting so badly for Lando and is desperate to comfort him, but he can only be brushed off so many times before he gives up. He is so worried for Lando that he misses signs of distress in himself, which ends up bringing about a resolution to the situation in a way nobody (including me!) expected.

It’s cheesy. A line literally straight from a porno, and one Oscar has heard so many times over the last year or so. He shouldn’t find himself hating the way it sounds, curling around Jenson’s tongue as he chases his release. He’s not even a bad guy. Outside of filming, Oscar likes him. He’s always up for a laugh, and he makes an effort to get to know about all the people that work in the agency, not just the actors he’s supposed to do scenes with. He’s always supportive, offering advice from a mature point of view. And yet. Right now, Oscar can’t stand him. The way that he gets to take care of Lando in a way that Oscar can’t, because Lando doesn’t open up to him the same way. The way of telling Oscar how he feels, not how he might open up around Oscar’s -

the sun (in your eyes) by @wisteriagoesvroom | M | 11.3k Lando stumbles upon a flower shop. Oscar's flower shop, to be precise. This is a wonderful florist!Oscar au. What I love so dearly about this is that the author has taken the lyric/concept of "you don't have to say i love you to say i love you" and applied it to flower language. How creative and clever. I love how throughout this fic Oscar and Lando really become what the other person needs, they are always there for each other. All of it just feels so safe and comforting. The dialogue is witty and fun and the descriptions are really well rounded. And as the cherry on top, this was written For Me so its wonderfully perfect.

Home. Home is pine needles and Ribena and his first car and a return ticket to Heathrow and taking your seat at your local cafe and the baristas knowing your name. But home can also be this: an open door, a room full of flowers and green and life. A cup of your favourite tea and a snack you’ve come to associate with the word comfort. A conversation with a man who offers you a safe harbour, with no conditions to be anything other than to be what you are.

nsfw: you're burning up, i'm cooling down by @foggieststars | E | 12.3k Lando and Oscar have an understanding, Oscar doesn't get to come until Lando decides he's been good enough. This fic is so good and it might be my most reread f1 fic ever at this point. The dialogue is amazing and feels so real and on point for both Lando and Oscar. Their dynamic is so fun and sexy and well written and it makes so much sense for them and what I feel like landoscar would be. I lack the words to accurately describe how good this is: the writing, the plot, the sex are all phenomenal.

He teases Oscar about it, sometimes. How badly he wants it - to win, to be good. Lando asks him if he ever gets hard in the car out of some twisted desperation to please people. He loves thinking about Oscar’s muscled thighs clenching together in the car, vibrations running through his whole body, sparking little points of contact. So Lando lets the little game drag on into the race build-up sometimes, when Oscar is okay with it.

under my skin by @lellabellawrites | M | 16.8k An AU in which Oscar and Lando are serial killers who have a meet cute while dumping bodies, and fall in love. This fic absolutely floored me with how good it was, how this pair of incredibly dangerous people managed to focus all that intensity on one another. Their devotion to one another is absolutely touching, even if you can never forget what they do for fun. Oscar is methodical and calculating, Lando is more impulsive, which is perfect characterisation and shows how well they fit together, the Yin and Yang of it all. The ending left me breathless.

Oscar knows exactly who this man is now. The Quad County Killer sprung up last summer and has been on quite a spree lately. A handful of Oscar's kills have been attributed to him, which should be a relief from the extra cover it brings, but instead only pisses him off. This guy works recklessly, leaving his kills out in the open like he wants to be found out. Oscar would like the papers to give him a little more credit than that. "I work better alone." His disdain must be evident as the man relents with a sneer of disappointment. "Could you at least help me drag this down—" "No." "Fine." He takes one end of the duffel and heaves it over the curb with more strength than Oscar would have expected from his slender frame. "Did you sink yours or float?" "Sink. I'm not an idiot." "Alright. Rude."

you be time, i'll be space by littleplumtree | M | 50.8k Lando and Oscar are part of a space exploration team with the goal of finding sentient life outside of earth. why I like it: This author is a master of the details. Every piece, every detail, every action and reaction, they all serve to make the story richer and more vibrant. The characterization, too, feels comfortable and real. It's a joy to read.

With his eye to the microscope, Lando makes a heart wrenching little sound of relief. “Oh. Oh my god. There you are.” Oscar leans his elbows on the bench and stares into the tank. There’s nothing to see with the naked eye, but in that water is something that could one day, given all the time in the world, evolve into something like themselves. Maybe one day they’ll build pyramids and cry at sad movies and invent Tupperware and come up with a thousand different ways to insult each other online.

nsfw: Casual by @loquarocoeur | E | 95k AU, college roommates. Lando is perpetually horny and unlucky when it comes to hookups. He suggests that he and Oscar should just be friends with benefits, you know. Casual. Oscar agrees, even though he is madly in love with Lando and knows its a recipe for disaster. Lando gradually starts to realise the same. I am insane for just how good this fic is. It's not that the guys don't talk, they talk all the time and even communicate about their unique situation, they understand one another deeply and yet they still don't realise what space they occupy in one another's hearts. They are completely compatible in bed, if only they knew - Lando in particular is self conscious about the way he gets in bed and fights his very nature, all while not realising Oscar likes him that way. The angst is heavy but they get there in the end, while it has plenty of funny dialogue moments to lighten things. The characterisation is wonderful all round.

“So I stopped asking for sex and now we haven’t fucked in like five days which should be fine, but I don’t know, I’m getting desperate and he's just, like, fine, so maybe he doesn't need the sex, maybe he doesn't want the sex anymore, but he just can't admit it—” “Okay, Lando, I think you’re really overthinking—” “No! Because you see the fucking isn’t the only thing, the thing is that somehow we’ve sort of accidentally slept in the same bed for like a week and now we’re sort of fighting so I couldn’t sleep last night.” “Accidentally... For a week?”

#driver:lando #driver:oscar #pairing:lando/oscar #landoscar #mctwinks

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thisapplepielife · 3 months

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Written for @steddie-week.

Not Enough to Not Know Better

"Is the room spinning, or just my brain?"

Eddie lulls his head to the side, trying to keep his eyes open as he looks at Steve, who is all but passed out on the couch. Sprawled out, comfortable, and for some reason, now missing his shirt.

Eddie allows his gaze to linger, taking in Steve's stomach, and especially the thick thatch of chest hair creeping all the way up towards his neck. It's gorgeous, and lush, just like the hair on Steve's head. Eddie wants to run his fingers through both. Wants to pull, stroke, lick.

When it peeks out of his collar, sometimes Eddie fears that he'll do something stupid without thinking it through.

"I think we're stationary," Eddie says, and Steve giggles like he's said the funniest bit of a stand-up routine. The best punchline, saved for last. But, it wasn't that funny, Steve's just drunk. Eddie knows that. Is absolutely sure of it.

"Stationary. Station. Airy," Steve mumbles, still laughing to himself.

"You're drunk, Harrington," Eddie says, not totally sure that he isn't right behind Steve on that.

"A little bit," Steve answers, moving to roll over onto his stomach, and it's the most awkward maneuver Eddie's ever seen anyone, or anything, ever make.

Steve finally gets settled in, wallering a spot into the couch, and Eddie hopes he doesn't suffocate with his face pressed into the cushion like it is. Finally Steve turns his head, laying his cheek on the upholstery.

His flushed cheek. Probably from the alcohol, or maybe he just got a little sun outside today. Usually Steve's tans right up, though. It's Eddie that has to worry about becoming a lobster.

Eddie looks at him. At Steve's chest, arms, back. It's all golden, and covered in freckles and moles that Eddie would love to count, to map.

Bite.

Eddie just takes in his body, looking down, down, down. Trying not to linger on the place where his jeans have ridden down, just a little. As tight as Steve wears them, that seems impossible, but he's seeing the waistband of Steve's underwear. Briefs, he thinks, not boxers.

His eyes are roaming too hard, and he needs to get himself under control. He starts to move them away, when Steve rolls his hips, keeping his attention. Grinding right against the fabric of the couch, and now Eddie can't look away. No way in hell, not as Steve rolls his hips in a slow, deliberate grind.

Eddie reaches down to adjust himself in his own jeans, and Steve meets his eyes. Eddie knows he's been caught, but Steve started this first. Eddie's just fighting horny with horny. He can't be blamed. Not for this.

"Sometimes," Steve says, just above a whisper, eyes still locked on Eddie's, "sometimes I do this and think about you."

"Jesus H. Christ, Harrington. How drunk are you?"

"Enough to not care what I'm saying. Not enough to not know better," Steve says, smiling. It's lazy, and beautiful.

"You've lost your mind," Eddie whispers, maybe just as much to himself as to Steve, but he shifts his hand, covers his own now-hard dick, and grinds against the heel of his hand.

"Maybe," Steve says, hips still moving, still chasing that little bit of death, "but it's still true."

"Goddamn," Eddie whines under his breath, and Steve keeps moving, keeps grinding, keeps looking right into his eyes, except for when he's flicking glances down towards Eddie's hand. Towards his dick.

Eddie wishes Steve was grinding on him that way. Maybe he would. If Eddie could only bring himself to ask.

Steve beats him to the punch.

"Show me. Let me see," Steve says, "I want to. It's all I think about. You. Me. Us."

That's almost enough for it to all be over before it even gets started. There's not an us, not that Eddie is aware of anyway, and only in his wildest fucking dreams, could that ever be true.

And right now. Apparently.

Eddie leans back, sprawling out on the floor, and keeps working his cock through his jeans. Now he can't see Steve, but he can feel his eyes. The heat from them.

"Well, c'mere if you're coming," Eddie says, and he hears the couch move, shift.

Eddie kicks his legs out wider, and Steve crawls on top of him, laying down, slotting himself between Eddie's thighs. Pressing flush against him. Grinding against Eddie, now. Not the couch.

It's better. It's so much better.

Eddie runs his hands up and down Steve's bare back, finally getting to touch all that warm skin he's fantasized about.

"Goddamn, Harrington," Eddie breathes out, pressing upwards against Steve, hard cock against hard cock, and even through his jeans it's the best thing he's ever felt. Steve Harrington can dry hump him any fucking day of the week and twice on Sunday. Eddie doesn't even need to see anything.

He wants to see, obviously, but this would be a god's plenty. He grabs at Steve's jean-clad ass, and pulls their bodies closer and closer together.

He's gonna come.

And he hopes Steve will, too.

Steve shifts, and Eddie hopes this isn't over, and it's not. Steve just shoves upwards, hard, catching Eddie's lips with his own. Sliding his tongue right into Eddie's mouth, and he tastes like beer, and pizza, and fucking heaven. Eddie doesn't care. Beer, onion, garlic, whatever. Bring it on.

Steve keeps rolling, and shifting, and grinding and Eddie wishes they were full-on fucking, because he feels like he's getting a pretty fucking awesome preview to what that might look like. He's memorizing Steve's movements, how fluid they are, how fucking hot.

Top, bottom, Eddie doesn't care. He's versatile, open to anything, so long as they get to do this together, do everything. He wants Steve, and now he thinks he might get to have him.

Steve hitches, his breath, his body, and then lets out a groan that will live in Eddie's bones for the rest of his days, as he comes in his jeans, on top of Eddie.

Eddie follows, clutching at Steve's ass, holding them together, coming. Steve's breathing into Eddie's open mouth in short, desperate bursts as he tries to come back to himself from this.

Eddie gets that. He definitely gets that.

He feels wrung out.

Then Steve laughs.

Giggles, really, flopping down on Eddie, making the mess worse for the both of them, surely, but Eddie doesn't let go. He wraps his arms around Steve's back, squeezing him, holding him close, for as long as Steve will allow it.

Eventually, Steve pushes himself upwards, and off Eddie. Standing, and offering Eddie both of his hands, pulling him to his feet.

"I need a shower. You wanna take a shower with me?" Steve asks, yanking Eddie right into his chest, catching him. He no longer looks as drunken and unsteady as he did.

Maybe Steve was drunk on horniness as much, if not more so, than on the actual alcohol. Either way, Eddie just nods.

Because, yes. Yes, he'd like to do that very much.

Steve winks, and grabs Eddie's hand, tugging him towards the staircase.

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