#clay appuzzo smut

[georgiapeach30513]

Kinktober 2021, Day 29: Agrexophilia

Summary:  Clay gets involved in the Mr. & Mrs. Barber list

Pairings:  Andy Barber X Reader X Mrs. Barber X Clay Appuzzo

Rating:  Explicit

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, Oral sex (Female Giving/female receiving), unprotected sex, swinging, PIV sex, oral sex (male receiving), slapping, spitting, swallowing, snowballing (?), implied pegging, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  1.2K

Agrexophilia is sexual arousal caused by knowing that other people know about your sexual activities.

Previous

Series Masterlist

"Wait, you just let her have sex with another man.  After he pretended to be her boyfriend?” Andy’s old friend Clay takes a long drag of his cigarette, tilting his head with a smile.

“We heavily talked about it first.  It was actually my idea.”

“And you have a list?  What else is on that list?”

Andy smirks, and his eyes roll up to Clay, “You don’t want to know,” Clay’s tongue traces the outside of his lips before taking another inhale, eyebrows raising, “Still trying to talk her into free use.”

“Anymore that includes a third?”

Andy takes a slow drink from his mug, he wanted to test out a kink, and Clay fell right into the trap.  Every small detail he told Clay about his wife’s and his little list, only seemed to turn Andy on more.  Knowing how lucky he is to have a kinky little whore for a wife.  Nothing is off the table, she's open to trying it.  Clay is beyond jealous of his sex life, Andy’s eyes finally look at Clay,  “Maybe a third and fourth.”

___________________________________________________________________

“Clay!  What did you get me into?” you fold your clothes, thinking about what your fiancé is suggesting.  “You’re saying...swinging.  You want this man to fuck me, while you watch?”

“Well, I would be fucking his wife.  You and Mrs. Barber can...fuck each other, just whatever.  I’ve seen the porn you enjoy watching.  You should hear some of the things him and his wife have done.  Like, she’s up to try anything.”

“Anything?” you ask innocently.

“Anything,” Clay’s eyes roam around your face.  “What did you have in mind?”

___________________________________________________________________

Mrs. Barber circles around you.  Her perfectly manicured nail trailing across your skin, making you tremble.  Her husband and your fiancé sit in chairs just watching the interaction, “Shh...it’s okay sweet bunny.  Don’t have to be nervous,” her lips begin to ghost kisses across your shoulders, easily slipping off the strap of your dress.  “Relaxing already.  I’ll take good care of you.  If you want my husband to fuck you later, I’m okay, but if you just want them watching us...I’m okay with that too.  You’re going to guide us, bunny.”

She fully removes your dress, backing you up to the bed, “Go on lay down, get comfortable,” crawling over the bed to you, she splits your thighs, leaning down to kiss her way up to your lips.  “Say, parrot.”

“Parrot.”

“Whenever you want any of us to stop, you say that word,” she looks over to her husband, and Clay.  “Understood, boys?” they nod their heads.  Andy already palming his swollen crotch, and Clay stretches out further.  “Mine is flamingo.”

Giving Andy a smirk while she kisses up your shoulder, grabbing your bra with her teeth, she drags it down, exposing the swell of one of your breasts.  Her lips trail down, until she sinks down on your swollen bud.  Kitten licking you, and switching to nibbling the hard nub.  Already in her spell, you adjust your weight to remove your bra.  Back on her knees, she flicks her head.  Andy quickly comes over to her, pulling off her robe, revealing her naked body.

Mrs. Barber’s fingers weave through Andy’s hair, bringing him to her neck.  He nips around, making soft little bruises on her, giving Clay a quick look, “Just so you know who she belongs to,” his hand slaps up under her breast.  She keens when Andy watches the jiggle of her swells.  “Get her good and warmed up for me, honey.”

He walks back to his spot, removing his cock, he slowly fists his length.  She brings her attention back to you.  Quickly removing your panties, and kissing down your body.  Her fingers tease your entrance, spreading around the slick that leaks out onto your thighs.  Placing in two fingers she sighs, “He’s going to have fun with you.  Look at his thick cock.  You’re getting stretched out,” she adds in another finger.  Scissoring deep into you.  Giving those fingers a slight curl to roam around your walls.

You release a quick chirp, your hands gripping tightly to the sheets, “Found it.  He know where this special spot is?” you shake your head no.  “Aw, you want me to teach Clay how to take care of a woman?” looking over at him, Mrs. Barber gives him a wink.  Licking her lips, she dives onto your warmth.  Fingers still pumping over your sweet spot, mouth sucking on your little nub, and you fight the release.  

She shouldn’t be able to make you feel this good.   Shouldn’t be able to have figured out, “Oh...shit!” you scream, body writhing underneath her when you come undone.

“Good girl.  Your turn.”

“What?”

“Want you to do what I did to you.  While Andy fucks that tight cunt,” her body crawls over you, until her thighs are on either side of your head, “Remember your word?” you nod yes.  “Gonna use it?” when you shake your head no, those manicured fingers caress your face sweetly, “Good girl.”

Lowering herself over you, you connect your lips to her clit.  Kitten licking the bundle of nerves, until sucking on it, “There ya go.  Andy, fuck her.  Clay, wanna fuck my mouth?  It’s waiting on you.”

Andy’s thick fingers softly smooths over your thighs, spreading them ever so slowly.  “Oh, watch her Clay.  Watch her when Andy splits her in two.”  

Andy’s girth pushes through your entrance, your voice whimpers over Mrs. Barber’s cunt, to reward you, she gives your clit some much needed tight circles.  Slapping the nub, before kissing her husband.  His moans at the taste of you on her lips.  Turning to face Clay, she licks up his length before sinking around it.  Her hands cup his balls.  Massaging him, as she pushes her face up against his pelvis.  Gagging before she pulls off of him.

Andy gives her ass cheek a quick slap as he ruts into you.  Your moans are muffled by Mrs. Barber’s soaking cunt, and she grinds down harder on you.  One of her hands hold tightly onto Clay’s thigh, the other tweaks your nipples, giving them her favorite little slaps.  Clay feeling so overwhelmed by this debaucherously beautiful moment, cums deep in her throat.  She doesn’t swallow when he pulls out.

She adjusts herself so she can lean over you, spitting Clay’s spend into your glistening mouth.  Her body turns so she can make out with her husband.  Your mouth working her over, Clay nearly going hard again, when her hand forces an orgasm out of you by those quick slaps to your clit.  Moaning on Andy’s mouth.  Her hands gripping tightly to his hips, urging him to go deeper and harder.

Until his spunk fills you up.  He wipes the sweat off his brow, “Do your thing honey,” she gives him a devilish grin, before she bends over to clean up his leaking seed out of you.  Coming back up, to give him an innocent kiss.  “Clay, you never got to fuck my wife.  Let’s have a beer, and we’ll try something else.”

“I have a better idea, babe,” she gives you a quick wink, “You ready?” the two men look between you and her, not realizing you had been planning yourselves.  “Clay, I want you whimpering around your wives cock, while I fuck that tight little ass of yours.”

Next

Masterlist

This takes place in the Mr. & Mrs. Barber universe

taglist:  @donutloverxo @thedarkplume @johndeaconshands @xoxabs88xox @harrysthiccthighss @duuhrayliegh @rebekahdawkins @autumnrose40 @terry2227​ @delilahjamesevans​

[matchamorphosis]

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊: 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒌

━━━━━➛ “𝐼’𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑛𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑎𝑚𝑛 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑝𝑢𝑡 𝑎 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠. 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑠.”

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 — a night of dirty dancing with two lovesick strangers leads to you inviting them into your home and into your heart.

𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 — ari levinson × clay appuzzo + ari levinson × (f)reader + clay appuzzo × (f)reader

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 — +18 nsft || reader is 21 and ari & clay are 42. reader is a part-time stripper and café waitress, ari is a erotic novelist and clay is a nude photographer. papa//daddy kink. alcohol mention. marijuana mention. falling in love with strangers. drunk but consensual kissing: consent is key folks. minors dni.

𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 — part one < part two. masterlist. taglist. library acc.

The waxen crescent spreads across the palette of indigo sky, similar to the flourishing shores washing over the blond sands stretched outside the copplestone boulevards.

It’s pearly flair strikes through the open windows of your apartment, glossing the blooming redness of your dresses silk that flows with the movement of your limbs. The color drowns Clay Appuzzo in its delicate purity, it makes his clean-shaven cheeks rise to embody the same pigment.

Why? because, his heart is fleeting through the crashing waves, and they pull him back into the reality. This is not a dream.

The warm hand of his lover holds his thigh, rubbing his loins till his bottom lips finds a haven in between his teeth. A smile you gift him like a love song, a smile Clay believes no beloved saint can receive and no desperate sinner can offer.

“You don’t have to do that strawberry, let me.” large, calloused hands take the bottle of spirit from your hands and pour the liquid into three glasses.

Ari’s touch helps the anxious state you try to conceal ease, another type of smile forms on your lips when Clay takes your hand in his. Feather light caresses of your fingers against the ruby of his ring, the skin on his knuckles and it makes the dark sea in Clay’s heart roar with moonlight.

“I think you both should know that I really shouldn’t be drinking. I have work waiting for me in the morning.” you confess, raising the rim to your glass back to your lips and taking another sip.

“And so do we sweetheart but it seems only one of us know each other’s professions. Care to tell us what you do for a living?” the question swims in your ears, your fingers play with the rim of your glass as your heart plummets.

Once upon a time you were happy having that job at the cafe down the coast, you got to taste the salty breeze on your tongue and the sunshine on your skin. The elements only intensified when you fell for no good men that carved their initials into your heart, and threw it away like the same receipt they’d ask you to write your number down on.

“Well, if you call waiting tables and pouring coffee a profession then I’m at the top of my job.” you answer, your finger still circling the rim of the glass till it sings.

Now you hated the scratchiness of your uniform dress that you once didn’t mind. You hated the white aprons you’d unluckily spill trays of coffee on over the slip of a step. You hated the late afternoons when you’d come home with mascara running down your cheeks from serving couples all day, knowing you’ll never find that kind of love that won’t end in heartbreak.

“That must be a good thing though, you must get some sort of discount for serving pretentious people all day. Don’t you?” Clay smiles, and you can’t help but laugh despite the fact that you don’t get any benefits, but he was right about the amount of entitlement the customer seems to have.

“You mind if I take a look through your shelves?” Ari joins the conversation, his eyes that before admired how beautiful you looked with the cityscape and starry twilight behind you pouring out of the open window.

Now his eyes searched through your apartment and admire how tall the bookshelves bearing rows of books were. Compared to how tiny your living room is and how tiny you are, Ari looks to you for permission.

“Ari likes t'read a person's character based on the books they own.” Clay assured, "'nd he thinks he can list down everything about you just 'cause he read some Sherlock Holmes." Clay snorts and you can't help your smile from growing.

"No Ari I- I don't mind." your voice is a little rough at the edges but only out of the possibility that Ari will find your hidden collection of-

Before you can finish that anxious fear, Ari gets up but not before taking your hand in his. "I need you to be my guide, strawberry. Do you have any favorites?" the warmth in his large grasp sends a masquerade of sparks throughout your body.

Although after you rise from your seat at the tiny kitchen table, Clay holds your waist and takes you into his lap, "I don't know Ari, I really enjoy our strawberry's company. Why don't you look through her library and she can stay here with me."

Clay sends Ari a wink and the man with the brown honey hair smirks, you don’t know if it’s at Clays comment or the flustered state you're spiraling into. Maybe it’s both, either way you don’t mind Ari’s sharp aquas that shines with mischief in the porcelain moonlight.

Each step his tall figure walks away from the homely kitchen to look at your books is a thud in you chest. Clay’s hands longer, they give soft ghostly touches on the bounty of your waist, his calm breath washes over the bare skin of your neck. The cool sensation is similar to the foaming waters of the beaches, and you allow him to take your body and senses into his gentle tide.

“Are you feeling alright, strawberry?” Clays olive green eyes resemble the sangria bottles you used to paint in the summer time with a blunt between your lips, bringing a comfort and shudder to your longing heart.

“Yes, I’m alright. Just feeling dizzy, the really good kind of dizzy.” you whisper, washing down another sip of the spirit as his hand holds your face.

The deep red tinted on your lips paints the glasses rim and you suck in a breath when Clays warm gentle touch holds yours. A thumb brushes the skin of your back hand, he takes your glass half empty with spirit and brings it to his lips.

The action, of his lips directly where you put yours is not a physical turn on but it still pulls you deeper and deeper into his now stirring waters. The reflection of his white teeth shine in the light and you hear the rustling of Ari humming which makes you shift in Clays lap.

“That’s good ‘cause I’m feeling dizzy to, like I’m dreaming. Do you wanna wake up from this dream y/n?” Clay’s words pierce an arrow through your heart, and it stings with addictive pleasure when his lips press against yours.

“No, no I don’t wanna wake up. I wanna dream with you, forever.” you sigh against his mouth, your hands twine with his charcoal traces that frame his face.

Kissing him like he’s the holiest thing you’ve ever seen, hard and soft then slow and hard again. You pull away to take in a breath but only to press your lips over his face, behind his ear where you discover a tattoo in the shape of a shaded lip.

The sounds of your wet kisses makes Ari turn his head over his shoulder and drink in the way your fingers have twined with Clays hand while his hands cup your face. The novelist looks over to his partner, who drinks from your glass of spirit with your lipstick stain still painted on the lid.

The flow and rotation of his hands massage the tempting curve of your back till the rest and squeeze your ass. Little pretty moans escape your strawberry red mouth, you kiss every exposed area of skin on his neck and face leaving the masterpieces of your lipstick stains in your wake.

The scene is just as good as what he has just discovered, the little private showcase of all your scandalous erotica just for your eyes to see and enjoy. Ari’s fingers trace each hardcover, colors shading from deep grapefruit to citrus lime peel.

What makes Ari’s heart thump, his abdomen muscles tighten, and his loins burn is when he sees his name on each book— you have every novel he’s ever written, right here on this single bookshelf.

Ari knows you might have everyone who's been in this living room fooled with your bookshelves of sweet romances and poetry collections, except for him. His work isn't the most chaste, and you have each copy of his writing in wrinkly condition, as if you've read his story over and over again that the spines have stretched the times you've opened to each specific sex scene.

The novelist takes one of his books from the collection, Girls Don't Cry, and opens it to the back cover. His eyes read the little private note Ari has signed along with his signature, alluding that this is the first edition. Bown brows are raised in surprise, his thumb traces the lipstick kiss following it below his name.

Ari takes each book out, each novel he's written, and he is met with the same shock that sends heat to his cock. All his books that you've collected are autographed and each chapter that you love is bookmarked with a lipstick kiss. Rosy fingertips trace the details of the blooming red mark within the open book in his hands.

“I know you probably think I’m just a silly girl with no shame or no dignity, but I want to tell you that I really… I really am a big fan of your work.” your voice picks up and Ari's shoulder straighten, he turns his head to face you.

Strawberry lipstick fading away from the kisses you've given his boyfriend, the evidence of it taunted on Clay's lips and face. Strings of vulnerability threads tightly around your vocal cords, like violin strings pitching in their heighten climax.

“I don’t think you’re a silly girl y/n, loving to read and collect romance and erotica is nothing to be ashamed of. I’m flattered you have so much of my work and you grace it with kisses.”

Ari himself can't recognize the sudden lowness of his voice, your eyes gloss with affirmation that the novelist and photographer believe you hardly get enough of. It brings the corners of the novelist's liquor-soaked lips up in an amused smirk.

Returning the book back where you categorized it, your eyes softly look at the exposed skin of his waist and you notice the lines of a lip tattoo on his hipbone. Ari’s contact locks with your body spiraling in pleasure as you shift in Clays lap in embarrassment. Although, still allowing the green-eyed sinner to press open-mouthed kisses and teeth marks to your bare shoulders.

Clay's low moans and wet sucks are the cause of your little whimpers fill the room, Ari steps back into your small kitchen and into his seat across from Clay.

“You know, Ari, I loved your Lust for Life series..." shy eyes become more confident as the moonlight fills the room and you finally meet Ari's eager glance.

"I had a feeling you did, your little notes in the margins made my heart soar strawberry. How did you feel about the ending?" Ari whispers, his sudden craving for feedback makes Clay smirk knowing that Ari secretly loves being praised.

"I was so upset when the series ended because I was so fond of Roslyn, especially how you wrote her character. She was so dimensional, you rarely see that quality for a woman in erotica.” the confession makes Ari smirk, pride radiating off him in streams that reflect off the honeycomb lamp in the small dining room.

“Although—” that second thought made Ari’s heart pound, and he doesn’t understand why. The silk-like aura of your voice was something magnetic to his senses, something that made his instincts delirious.

“I resonated and found more comfort with Parish’s character in Girls Don’t Cry. It’s been my favorite of yours and it’s been so for a while. If you don’t mind me saying, I know it isn’t exactly one of your most popular novels.”

Girls Don't Cry was the very first book Ari published and it wasn’t a financial success nor a culture break involved in the social circles of society when the topic is sexuality was introduced. Despite Ari putting everything he had in that book it was a lesson he had to learn the hard way when it came to writing. An admonition he reminded himself that he solely wrote because he loved to write and not for any form of fame or gain.

What still surprises Ari though is the fact that you have a first edition. Most of those copies of Girls Don't Cry are either tucked away in the far off shelves on Dime stores collecting dust or hidden under the beds of married woman’s bedrooms and only taken out when their husbands are away at work.

“I hope I didn’t shock you or anything by that.” you break his haze, a light gasp breathing out of you when Clay’s hands play with the sweetheart neckline of your dress, teasing your spilling tits.

The smile you display is like a string of Tiffany pearls, enchanting Clay with every finger you twine within his hair and allowing him to press his open mouth kisses onto your neck. Batting your lashes when he bites down on a certain area of skin, your hooded eyes engrossed with a heavy lewdness, they capture all of Ari’s attention.

So hypnotic you’re pulling at his stiff heartstrings with ease, Making Ari wonder if you knew how helpless you made people— how helpless you made him.

“I’m sorry if I offend you Ari. I hope we can still talk more about your books.” your voice breaks through his head crowding and plastered in strawberry lipstick and the aura of sex and breath you radiate.

“Oh no, no! You didn’t offend me at all. I don’t- I don’t mind it at all, sweetheart. No one mentions my earlier novels, it’s just— it’s really refreshing. I don’t mind it at all, you know uh— as an author praise really gets the gears up here working.” Ari stutters as he gestures to his head, and immediately Clay chuckles lowly.

“Yeah, nothing like a praise or two to butter him up and get him to work.” Clay draws nonchalantly, unaware that you are here and to Ari’s worry he hopes you didn’t catch the intention of the remark or understand it.

But Clays words and actions still paint a deep rose underneath Ari’s cheeks, blushing fiercely as he tries to cool his fluttering nerves with another shot of spirit.

“And speaking of you getting to work… I really enjoyed your recent book, Cherry Chapstick. It almost tops Girls Don’t Cry… There’s something special about it.” you bite your bottom lip when Clay slips one hand underneath the low neckline.

“Oh really? There is now.” Clay rasps, his raven brows raised as he pope his lips off your neck before glancing lewdly in Ari’s direction.

It’s taking the will of a miracle to not make him melt under both your lust drunk stares, the tranquil curve of your bountiful hips and the majestic arcs of your breasts make a never ending maze in Ari’s labyrinth mind.

“Why don’t you enlighten us, strawberry. I’d love to hear your thoughts, I know you’re smart to know what the book is really about. Unlike those horny housewives and amateur college students at his meet and greet tables.” you shiver as Clay rasps in your ear, giving the shell of your ear a lick then a little bite.

Oh Clay once thought earlier in the night about twirling you under the canvas of twilight sky behind you. Thought about capturing the striking serene of your smile, the mysterious twinkle in your eye begging to be polished into stars. Now he’s thinking about fucking you, letting you envelope him in the divinity that is falling for someone you just met.

Ari eyes outline Clays, brows cross at what game his boyfriend is playing at. “No you don’t, you don’t have to answer that question—”

“And why the fuck not? I mean, our strawberry is such a huge fan of your work. Let her answer, I know you want to hear her answer...” Clay eggs on and Ari knows these sudden gashes are all due to the pressure of keeping their relationship hidden from the media.

Ari knows that Clay’s soul aches at the fact that his love for Ari is being kept a secret and Ari knows that his lovers heart is breaking when Ari still keeps his love for Clay a secret.

“Go on dolly, answer the question.” Clay whispers, ignoring Ari’s hesitance and caution because Clay knows that you’re going to understand.

Not just the book, Cherry Chapstick, but them— he and Ari.

Sitting up against Clay’s lean chest, you fiddle with your fingers, “Well, from reading the story— it’s very clear that this is a story very close to you. Anyone who’s read your work knows that this isn’t like your other novels, it’s more personal.” a little sigh of pleasure slips from you when Clay holds and massages your tits.

“And, I think it’s very important to note the fact that you do not use specific pronouns to specify “the Angel with cherry chapstick”. You just use masculine orientated descriptions to detail Adam's love interest yet alluding to feminine qualities when Adam and his Angel have sex—” you stutter out a deep moan and a series of whines when one of Clay’s hands stop giving attention to one nipple and slip in between your thighs.

Poor little you tears up when Clay’s single hand slips under your lace panties, the other still groping your tits. Ari feels his pants getting tighter from the sight of the prominent wet spot, the way your tits fit so well in Clay’s hand and the strong scent of your wetness glistening your spread thighs.

“Al-Although, you said that the story and perspective is up for whatever interpretation the reader has. Besides the plot lining the struggle of finding love and being happy with who you are sexually. I think it’s for a specific purpose— Papa, please! It burns, please make it better.” you whine as Clay slowly rubs light circles onto your soaked pussy.

Clay kisses the skin behind your ear, nuzzling his nose into your hair whilst you brace your scrunch hands onto the corduroy material of his olive button up. “Shh strawberry, Papa promises he’ll make i’all better, just finish answerin’ your question for Daddy.”

Ari nearly comes in his pants from those words, wondering when this little conversation of you calling Clay Papa and he Daddy started but he can’t help but not care as he strokes his cock through his jeans.

You sniff and nod your head, receiving a kiss on your hairline from Clay as you continue: “In the Acknowledgements you wrote that the story is for a very special love in your life… And I think I know who you wrote it for and what it’s about.”

oh how bright and attentive to detail you are.

Ari’s heart thumps and pumps, in disbelief how you’re so close to stitching all the pieces together. The discipline you’re holding within your clutch to keep spilling fact after fact through those heaven crafted lips even though Clay distractingly rubs your cunt in sensually slow circles.

His lover humming into your disheveled hair, a prominent smirk plastered on his mouth as he gives Ari a wink in approval to keep going. Subtly bitting down on his own lip, Ari raises a brow at you before getting up from his chair and pushing it back in. Shaking the table and tilting he glass of spirit but the three of you don’t care.

“Oh really? Then answer my question, strawberry,” Ari drawls as his finger and thumb clasp around your chin, angling those pretty starlight eyes to meet his unchaste blues.

“Who did I write Cherry Chapstick for?”

That mischievous pout that pulled his heart and continues to make his cock throb turns into a form of parted pursed lips. Something dirty and slutty that would tease the cover of Playboy magazines Clay would shoot and frame in his executive office.

“What if I get the answer wrong?” your voice hushed, licking your lips at the sight of his bulge begging to be released from the tight confines of his navy blue jeans.

“Then me and my friend here have to go.” Ari could see Clay detesting, a scoff rings out and the seething glare hits him hard it might as well shatter his ribcage.

Ari can’t help but smooth his thumb over them, although he reserves himself from crashing his mouth against yours despite how inviting it looks. A constellations of emotions spark in your eyes that confuse Ari, twinkles of concentration and apprehension imbedded as you look away from the tall broad man and into the spirit reflection of your crystal chalice.

“And if I get it right?” you reflect, secretly liking the sudden bottom lip caresses Ari lavishes upon you.

“Then I suppose we could stay for a while. Do whatever you want to do.” Ari answers and his body set on fire when your lips part to suck on his thumb, both in thought and taking the risk of seeing if he likes it.

The mood ring wrapped around the same finger radiates in a satin pink glow, it makes Ari’s face transfer to a strawberry tint that make Clay chuckle. The three of you know that Ari’s yearning to feel you suck on something else of his but before you release his thumb from the pleasurable torture of your mouth, you get off of Clays lap.

The drag of your strapless, low pump heels is the only sound in the small apartment that usually battle with the spinning Ella Fitzgerald record. The eyes of the two gentlemen rest on the bareness of your back that the crimson body fitting dress doesn’t cover, their eyes and minds shamelessly undress you with every sway your hips pull and flow.

“I think… that you wrote Cherry Chapstick for the man you fell deep in love with. The same man you’ve been working with since you published your first book.” your voice seems to echo in the apartment, your words making Ari’s atoms vibrate as Clay grins.

“I think… that you wrote Cherry Chapstick for Clay Appuzzo, because once you both passed the line of business associates you both were friends desperate for each other’s attention and love. But that wouldn’t make you friends anymore…”

Ari looks over to his Angel in chapstick, in his mind that’s been collapsed and rebuilt a hundred times, he sees Clay with dove wings. So big and wide, pearly white just like the crescent that pools the three of you in and out of focus.

“Because friends don’t look at each other the same way you both do, and friends don’t have tattoos of each other’s lips on their bodies. Aren’t I right? Don’t you see the answer?” you implore, fear takes a hold of you but you still manage to gather the courage to spin your body around.

Hues of ocean blues and bottle greens capture your frame, splotches of comprehension and reverence bleed onto the palette, desirous strokes of lust brush the canvas— but the painting is blank when the silence between you three pursues.

No presence of fear or uncertainty takes up the room between you and the two gentlemen at the table as you walk closer and closer. Ari seems to have seated himself besides Clay and you can see the bulge in both their trousers when you situate yourself on the faux antique lounge couch.

“Is that your answer, strawberry? You seem so sure, aren’t you getting to in your head saying these things?” Ari speaks, wanting to walk to your figure and kiss you, both for understanding the love language in his work and understanding him and Clay.

“Kiss him, if you don’t you're not just going to break my heart but his too.”

That statement is as true as rain and Ari wants it to wash away the lipstick stain cigarettes that crowd his ashtray for a heart.

The same persistence from fear that striked him down hard that moment when he was rushing to dance with you across the dance floor returns to Ari once more.

This time he knows that you aren’t just a simple woman of the night, but faith really has but you three together for a reason. The stars shine and the moon glosses impossibly bright, the music of changing times is heard in the symphony of Clay’s stitched heart mended from all heartbreaks.

kiss him, kiss him, kiss him— your words fill their heads and it’s a hopeless kind of infatuation that spills into their bloodstreams and makes their heart beat jump out of rhythm.

Clay holds the back of Ari’s head the same way he holds a cup of sunshine, his fingers twining within each honey brown lock. The glance you have on them can be felt but not feared, Ari leans in and presses Clay’s lips with his own.

Tasting the cherry chapstick on his boyfriend's lips, indulging in the hunger that drives Ari to kiss him for hours and hours and denying himself a single moment to breathe. The sensation of exhilaration is something Clays drunk on, and he knows you love seeing it.

Witnessing the sweet tenderness of the kiss turn into something more delirious, Clays hands at the buttons of Ari’s pollo and Ari’s tongue slowly slips into Clays mouth. Accents of wet smacks from hungry lips pave a path of warmth down your body, a heavy slowness enveloping your senses as if you're drowning in ruby red honey.

Hands flow down your side, your hand resting in between your thighs but not tearing your eyes away. Lewd wetness soaks your clit as you watch Clay sucking hard on Ari’s tongue, heavy moans yearning for more fill your ears as your eyes catch sight of hands slipping under shirts and fingers unbundling belt buckles and zippers.

But it all stops suddenly, because just when you rub at your cunt their walking slowly to you. Their eyes taunted with unchaste thoughts, yours reflect the same desire and it makes Ari hold your chin gently. Giving your bottom lip slow caresses, he looks over to Clay who strokes your cheek with his knuckles.

“Well well well, our strawberry figured out our little secret after all. What do you suppose we do, sweetheart?” Clay whispers, a glint of mischief in his greens that make you feel like you’re finally not dancing alone in the ballroom of your mind.

Ari smiles, something soft but so filthy just as the suck you give to his thumb, your fingertips playing with the mood-ring tinted pink that’s wrapped around the digit.

“What ever our strawberry wants, she’s knows a whole lot about us to figure out what we want with her.” Ari’s low voice thrums like a soft thunder and your waiting for the blissful rain to pour on you.

“What do you think strawberry? Do you want to wake up from this dream?” Clay whispers, his face plastered with your lipstick kisses so close.

An urge to reapply another coat to press more all over each inch of skin you wish to paint with your lips. Releasing Ari’s thumb from your mouth, you still play with the mood-ring on his thumb.

“I want to keep dreaming. I want this dream with you both. Promise to not wake me up, will you?” the knuckles that stroked your cheek hold it tenderly and the thumb that you sucked on caresses your lips again.

“We promise you strawberry.”

━━━➛ thank you for reading! i’d appreciate it if you’d reblog// leave a comment on your thoughts. see you soon for part three! ♡

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — @lavendercitizen . @babyyhoneyydarling . @versacebutera . @honeychicana .♡

[openforjean]

tricks

Clay Appuzzo x woc!reader

“First time?” A voice says behind you. You whip your head around and there’s a man at your dressing room door. “Yeah, how’d you know?” You ask, he chuckles and walks in your dressing room. “You were shaking like a leaf out there, baby,” he says with an Italian accent. He comes closer and you can smell the alcohol and cigarettes. Your heart starts to pound as he comes closer. “I can show you a few calming tricks if you’d like,” he says picking up your chin with his finger.

[buckyshenley16]

I’d never unstan seb after this but like I’m so disappointed in what he’s done, all good seeing him be happy but if we should wait to do nice things and be happy then why shouldn’t he

[lilsnooks010]

THE COVENANT WILL BE ON NETFLIX TOMORROW (6/1)

[nycbaizen-blog]

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Send anything!

I write for:

- Sebastian Stan and ALL his characters

- Tom Holland and Peter Parker (don’t request anything NSFW for Peter please)

- AU’s for all of the above e.g. Mobster/ Teacher/ Doctor etc.

You can request anything and in any format as long as you specify! :)

If you can provide a little background with your requests I’ll appreciate it e.g

DONT ASK: Angst with Bucky

ASK: Angst with Bucky where...(and provide some information on what you want)

THANK YOU! :)

[eraemx]

I had an idea today

Yanno what kinda seb smut/fic I haven’t seen or read yet

The whole “dads boss “ au thing

Like when I was trapped in the harry styles fandom there were SO MANY dads boss/ Dad of the kid you’re babysitting/ best friends Dad / hot older neighbour type smuts and fics and I was thinking I like don’t really see any like that for seb and y’all are missing out cause what a concept

[chewiethecatus]

I feel so old now! I have completely lost track of time. I know Covenant was 2006 but didn't think this

Was 2015.

I just can't believe how long ago some of these were made. For instance due to quarantine, I have started watching OUAT all over again, not just because Seb is in but because I don't remember most of it. The first season was 2012 and I was like 11 or 12 years old, I didn't even realize that was so long ago, time flys past you in a blink an eye...

15 years of Sebastian Stan (2006-2020)

[geminimoonbeamx]

Sweet Tooth: Part Two

A/N: Okay guys I’m SO into this story. I can’t wait for you guys to see what I have planned.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Cursing. Like a motherfucker. Because this is a story about Lance Tucker. Mention of slight fat shaming. Drinking and driving (which is stupid, don’t even try kiddo’s)

Summary: Lance Tucker has come back to his hometown with his ego bruised and his look on life more tainted then ever. When he runs into Y/N; a vibrant plus size woman he went to high school with at her bakery ‘Cake Faced’, he leaves the shop with the taste of sugar on his lips and a hunger that has nothing to do with the cupcakes.

💘💘💘💘💘

It had all started a couple weeks ago.

When Courtney, your best friend of nearly two decades, had sashayed into the shop, a cup holder containing two Venti coffee’s in hand. She always did this, came and distracted you at some point in the day. She claimed if she didn’t you would get completely buried in your work and she’d never see your ass again. You defend yourself of course at the jab, but weakly. Because you knew she was probably(defiantly) right.

“Hey hooker” you greet from your place, adjusting the display in the window while the store seemed to have a quiet moment, only a few costumers scattered around the place. Your short frame was balanced on a step stool as you reached up high to

“Hello gorgeousness…Why don’t you come down from there before you brake your neck. Neck braces aren’t on trend this spring” She teases, because everyone whose ever met you knows how dangerously clumsy you are. You just huff and climb down. Courtney then hands you your drink and you give her an over exaggerated groan, holding your hand to your chest and telling her that she was too good to you before taking a sip of the sweet caffeine you had desperately needed.

Thank god for Courtney- that she knows you better then you know yourself. She took time out of her own day to come check on you and ask you how yours was going, yeah it wasn’t really out of her way seeing on how she worked up the street, but still. You appreciated her more then she’d ever know, even if she had ‘momed’ you since you guys we’re teenagers.

“So how has your day been?” She’s nibbling on a coconut cream pie scone. She claimed god himself had given you the recipe for them “It looks unusually dead in here”

“It’s been aright so far, nothing too exciting. The 4 o'clock rush hasn’t happened yet so I’ve just been fucking around. Yours? Your manager still harassing that new guy?” You guys end up sitting at one of the little tables, Shane assures you that he’s got who ever might come in.

“Yeah, Patty’s still earning herself one shiner of a Law Suit. Dirty ass old woman” Courtney shakes her head at the mention of her boss, the woman was a seventy year old former play boy bunny AND the dirtiest woman either of you had ever met. “But that’s whatever. I have some major gossip”

You can tell just by the tone of her voice that what she’s about to tell you is insanely juicy.

Fun fact, you never really grow out of gossiping. Thirty(well twenty nine) years old or not, when you live in a town as small as this one, it’s just a given that every one knows everyone’s business.

“Okay why didn’t you start out with that? Spill” You demand, leaning in closer to her, anticipating her next words.

“Okay so you know how Felix used to date Sarah whose best friends with Brooklyn?” She starts and you nod. Obviously “So I guess they’re sleeping together again. I know, big shocker, and Sarah told him that Brooklyn told her that Lance is moving back in with their mom” Courtney informs you of the tabgled drama between her coworker, his ex, and Brooklyn Tucker.

You gape at that for a moment. No way. Lance Tucker, Olympic gold medalist, LANce Tucker was moving back into his parents house. How?

“No way” You decide but she just chuckles and nods.

“Yes way, dude. I guess there was some huge scandal at that gym he worked at in California. Some coach got one of the girls pregnant or something? I don’t know all of those details but what I do know is Lance the mother fucker Tucker is moving home” Courtney cackles “How hilarious, right?”

Courtney was nice…to you. To everyone else she was a bit of a bitch.

“Hilarious isn’t the word I would use. Ironic though-” You cluck your tongue. Hadn’t he always hated this town? You remember even in middle school he had been so adamant about getting out of this “suburban shithole” and going somewhere he deemed worthy of him. Him and his shiny superstar ego.

“It’s fucking fitting I think. He was always such a giant dick. Now he’s living back with his mommy? Karma really is a vicious bitch. Ha” Courtney shakes her head with a smirk and you roll your eyes.

Yeah, he’d been a huge cocksucker to everyone- you included. But losing your dream? The one you’d spent years working on? You didn’t wish that upon anyone.

“It is but how…sad” You bite your thumb nail as you mull it over.

“Sad? I mean I guess- But he’s such an asshole. Don’t you hate him?” Courtney hates you and your big bleeding heart sometimes. That guy didn’t deserve your sympathy.

“No, Court, I don’t hate him…anymore” you cant deny, there was a time when he had made you see red “He’s not my favorite person in the world. Of course not, but I don’t know. I’m an adult now-” Courtney scoffs hard at that and you fling a cupcake wrapper at her “I just don’t see the point in holding grudges anymore”

“Yeah okay” Courtney rolls her eyes as she gathers up her belongings “You keep telling yourself that, Mahatma Gandhi. Like you don’t still hate Carlos Vance for accidentally hitting you with a pencil in the 6th grade”

“He really almost blinded me and wasn’t even apologetic about it at all. Fuck him forever” You’re dead serious and it causes both of you to laugh.

“My breaks almost over, I have to run. We’re still on for Margarita’s with the girls this Friday, right?”

“Of course” You kiss each other on the cheek and you pack her another scone “for the road” before she’s hurrying out of the door. You give her reciting frame a fond smile, but continue to mull over her words. Lance was coming back. You stomach felt unsettled at that- and you hated it. You hadn’t even talked, or much less thought about him in years.

So why we’re you so…so weird about the idea of him moving back? It was stupid, really.

So you do what you did best, and buried your self in your work.

It really did help, too. Your mind is completely free of any thoughts of people you hadn’t seen in ages-

Until a few days ago.

When he had walked into your shop.

He was still the same. The way his presence seemed to fill up the entire room. That smirk and those expressive eye brows. And, because you’re not a hater, of course you’d noticed that he’d seemed to be even more in shape now then he was back in high school. His broad shoulders strained against the material of his track suit. Jeeze, he was still wearing those. Didn’t he know it was a different decade now?

So you’d taken him personally, helped him choose a cupcake and rang him up. Just being professional, you tell yourself. that was all it was.

You tried to ignore how…tired he looked. Not physically, really…but drained. His demeanor drained. It wasn’t your business, right? So you try to keep it cool, keep your self in check.

You never did have the best self control. When he’s going to leave, you call for him.

“Welcome home”

Simple words, but you hoped they might have a little impact.

His grin is still ridiculously bright and handsome, you note mentally.

Fuck. Fucking fuck.

It brings up old- feelings. Memories. Adolescent adoration and hate. It’s annoying, there’s no place for it in your adult life.

“He seems like a real winner” Shane had dead panned “Hot as hell though”

You laughed at your younger employee. You loved Shane, he’d been working for you since pretty much the moment you’d opened this place and even though he was five years your junior, he’d become a close friend “What you don’t remember Lace the mother fucker Tucker? Olympic gold medalist and grade A dick wad?”

“Nah, I remember him. That tight ass of his though, that slipped my memory”

You’d swatted Shane’s shoulder as you laughed. Little shit.

You hadn’t seen him after that, though. Not that you wanted to. Not that your eyes maybe scanned the shop for a tall head of dark hair…

You didn’t expect him to come back. Him and his athlete ways. Back in high school you remember him and his grueling diet he’d been on.

So you go about your routine, the comfortable one that you follow without even thinking about it. The one that included waking up at the crack of dawn, feeding your dog, watering your garden. Tending to the shop as though it was your child. Bullshitting with your friends.

The usual.

Your usual is broken, though, by one phone call.

It’s not even a bad phone call, so you don’t know why it throws you off so awfully. Why you feel overwhelmed and hot and near panicky as you sit at your kitchen table. But you know that you need to remedy it. With wine. Lots, and lots of wine.

Which you don’t seem to have in your house. How we’re you completely dry? What kind of blasphemy.

So you drag yourself out of your house, muttering about “fuck your life” and “Courtney’s the antichrist” because you knew that alcoholic bitch was the culprit, the wine bandit who had left you with no choice but to go to the store. At 10 O'clock. In a pair of tight leggings, an over sized sweater and ugg booties.

You’re walking lazily through the brightly lit isles of the grocery store on main street. You’ve found your wine, have it popped open, as you stress shop.

You figure you might as well get some ingredients. Plus, you needed new dish towels- and oh, we’re those Fourth of July decorations? Might as well grab em’ even though it was only Mid April.

You’re so engrossed in your task, that you don’t notice you’ve been being trailed.

Lance needed to get out of the house.

Living with his mother and sister- and Brooklyn’s two daughters was driving him nuts. Did he love them all? Yes, very much. Was he going out of his fucking mind at the overwhelming amount of female energy he was being force exposed to? Absolutely.

He was already apartment hunting.

So he’d go on drives, long ones that would take the edge off of- everything.

Re-explore this town that he seemed to know every corner of. Get to know the few parts that we’re new. But even that was getting boring.

So he decides that the only way to get through this night is drunk. Or at least buzzed. The liquor store is closed so the supermarket is the only option. Lance takes long legged strides into the all but empty store. It’s late, so no one is really there, but the one cashier working and Weird Wallace, the towns hermit who only came out at night to avoid all other human life.

Lance tips his head at the man as he makes a bee-line for the liquor section, intent on buying a twelve pack of beer and hopefully drinking everyone that night.

He doesn’t expect to see you. He catches the sight of you out of his peripheral vision. You have a wine bottle tilted all the way back, taking a gulp, before going back to your shopping.

What were you doing at the store at nearly eleven o'clock? Lance wonders with an amused grin.

He should just grab his beer and go home. That would be the smart thing to do- Buuuut, Lance really wasn’t as smart as he prided himself on being.

He’s not following you.

Not even.

He just happens to be going in the same direction as you.

Not creepy at all.

Okay- kind of creepy. Especially when you bend over to grab something off a bottom rack. Your leggings go sheer as they hug your large, round ass. He can see the outline of the little lace g string you have on and he cant help but bite his lip.

What a sight.

You always had, had a nice ass. Wide and grab-able. His fingers still itched to dig them selves into the doughy flesh.

“Well, fancy meeting you here”

The sound of his voice sends you snapping up straight fast, you almost loose your grip on the neck of the wine bottle as your heart pounds and a gasp rips it’s self from your throat. You spin on your heels to face him and he’s just standing there. In a track suit, that look- his signature smug smile gracing his features.

“Lance, you dick!” You hiss at him, holding your middle as you regain your breath “You scared the shit out of me!”

His icy eyes could make the queens guards quake in their tall black, fluffy hats. They’re so…predatory. And sharp. And beautiful.

And bold, they look you up and down unapologetically.

You swallow the rush of self consciousness that raises in your throat.

“Sorry, sugar” He doesn’t sound sorry at all “What are you doing out so late?”

“It’s not even eleven o'clock yet, Lance. It’s hardly late”

He likes your snark, It suits you. You’d never had that edge before “My mistake. It’s totally normal for people to be going shopping for-” he gazes into your shopping basket “Red, white and blue tiki torches and chardonnay in the middle of the night”

“Being normal is vastly overrated” You shrug and shift on your feet “What about you? You going to a kegger?”

He grins “Nah, I just needed a breather… you want to join me?” He holds up the case of beer in offering and you roll your eyes at him.

Hard.

“I’ll pass” you dismiss him easily, turning back to your cart “You have a good night though”

You had a sense of self preservation and you absolutely would not get drunk with the man. Randomly. On a Thursday night.

Lance’s eyebrows stich together at how easily you shrug him off and that part of him, the competitive athlete one, pushes him forward. Because he never gave up, on anything. Ever. And who we’re you to just turn your back on him?

“Really? You’d rather drink your bottle of wine alone?” He presses on, keeping up easily with you so you’re standing shoulder to shoulder(well not really because he has a good near foot on you) with him. You convince yourself that it doesn’t unnerve you.

“Yup” you pop the ‘p’ dramatically.

“That sounds like fun" His sarcastic bite makes you bite the inside of your cheek “I’m offering you company. A good time and…good beer”

“I’ve never really been a beer girl” the sound he makes in his throat at your words is cute. You cant deny that “So again, I’m pretty sure I’ll pass”

“And here I thought we we’re friends”

“Really?” You give him incredulous eyes. Was he serious?

“Yeah- I mean we had that art class senior year and we were partners and” Lance recalls how close the two of you had gotten, how many hours you’d spend laughing and bullshitting and wasn’t that friendship? “I just assumed we we’re still friends”

“Do you not even remember what you said to me?” You don’t mean to say it, you really don’t. But you’ve taken one too many gulps of wine. The look of confusion on his face feels like a slap to yours.

“No?” He starts “Should I?”

You scoff at him so intensely it’s almost painful before you’re off, wanting to put some distance between the two of you.

Why wont he let you?

“Y/N” Lance insists on being the biggest pain in the ass ever to walk the planet “What did I say?”

“Just leave me alone” You’re almost through at the check out isle, the cashier is taking their sweet time though. You’d always loved La'tecia. The elderly black woman kept you in stiches, but you needed her to hurry the hell up.

“No. What did I say?” He continues to push, keeping up with you easily. He was fitter, his legs longer. You couldn’t out run him if you tried.

When you don’t answer him he can feel his annoyance spike at your antics “Why don’t you quit being a child and tell me so I can say sorry- even if I don’t really mean it- and you can get the fuck over it”

Oh.

Hell.

No.

He did not just speak to you like that. Your teeth grit in an attempt to hold your temper. Even if the store was dead it was still a public place.

“You know what, Lance? First of all fuck you-” He opens his mouth and your finger slices the air in front of you as you hold it up “No, I’m talking right now. You keep your mouth shut and listen to me. You want to know what you said to me? You told me that I might be, and I quote, actually pretty cute if I lost some weight. That you bet all the guys would be after me if I worked on my fitness. And that killed high school me. But adult me, whose obviously doing a hellva lot better then you in life doesn’t care. So there’s nothing you need to say a meaningless sorry for. But we are not friends” You’re pretty composed during the entirety of your little rant. Until the end. You hiss those words at him.

La'tecia just minds her business, and you give her your card, eagerly.

Lance attempts to absorb your words, you’d never seen him at a loss for words. Yeah, he remembers that conversation…but you were totally twisting his words! It hadn’t even gone down like that.

“Y/N-” He starts. but your bags are in your cart and your off. He intends on following you again but-

“Uh-uh. Are you going to pay for those?” La'tecia’s cutting voice asks and he sighs and takes out his wallet.

“Let me tell you, boy. You’ve always been heard headed. And loud as hell. But I never thought you we’re cruel, even with all that nonsense everyone always spoke about you” She starts, looking him right in the eye as she speaks “You’re a grown man now. Act like it”

Lance feels personally attacked. How had this night taken this route? All he’d wanted was some beers.

“Thanks for your words of wisdom. You should consider a new profession? Therapy maybe? Counseling? Telling people where isle four is, is obviously getting to mediocre for you” He sarcastically pans at the woman before snatching his beer and his card and stalking off.

He doesn’t know why he’d expected to find you outside, the lot is empty. Your long gone. He reaches for one of the beers, wrenching open the box before popping the can open an chugging. The drive back home is spent with him stewing and going over things he hadn’t thought about in…well ever. How was he supposed to know that him stating a simple face back so long ago would make you hate him forever? Hah, no, you didn’t even hate him. As you said. You just didn’t care about him. At all.

Like no one did.

His knuckles are white around the steering wheel as he sits outside the front of his house for nearly half an hour. Wondering what the fuck had just happened.

Oh, how the mighty had fallen.

——————

@huntressxtimelady @i-had-a-life-once @zombiewerewolfqueen @spookyscaryscully @adyseesbeauty @geekyweed @maximum-effort-minimum-life @peacefulwriter88 @pegasusdragontiger @papi-chulo-bucky @yslbucky @iamwarrenspeace

Okay so one of my Aunts from my dads side of the family was just over and I knew I needed to write in La'tecia because I love bold black women. I’m sorry it got to moody, but for there to be any realism in this story Y/N needs to first call him on his shit. Give me some feed back! Let me know if you want to be tagged! Love you’s guys!

Part Three

Part Four

[matchamorphosis]

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊: 𝒑𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔

━━━━━➛ “𝐼’𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑛𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑎𝑚𝑛 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑝𝑢𝑡 𝑎 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠. 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑠.”

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 — a night that was once memorial to dirty dancing is now memorable as you dance with two lovesick strangers.

𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒 — smut & angst ↬ part one.

𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 — ari levinson × clay appuzzo + ari levinson × fem!reader + clay appuzzo × fem!reader

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 — 18+ nsfw || reader is 21 and ari & clay are 42. reader is a part-time stripper + cafe waitress, ari is an erotic novelist and clay is a nude photographer. falling in love with strangers. sexual remarks and teasing. alcohol mention. minors dni.

𝑤.𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 — hello so this pairing of mine have been on my mind for so long and I just had to write it. hope you cherubs heed the warnings and enjoy reading! 🍒 part two is coming this Sunday!

𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 — part one > part two. masterlist. library acc. taglist.

Beautiful. Dangerous. Addicting.

Ari Levinson’s lustful thoughts thunder as his candy red tongue licks your glossy folds torturously slow, ravishing in the artful way your back rises in a poetic arc as an airy whine falls from your mouth.

Bewitching. Wicked. Perfect.

Clay Appuzzo’s head carnally rasps, his rosy-pink lips bruised from crashing them against his brunette lover that takes each deep thrust he gives him while his olive eyes lock with yours that watch with precise attention.

Give me more. It burns like fire. Give me more.

The pleads swim and drown, they resurface in your ears as you witness the man who seems more powerful than a God lay before you. Eating you out till your tart nectar soaks his full beard through and makes his lips shiny with dew.

A slurp and a suck brings colorful hues to your vision, a lick and roll of his talented tongue clears them out yet manifests them back. Bringing you in and out of consciousness to behold the sight of a man with midnight black hair, lovestruck stars pouring in beads of sweat.

Rolling down the cords of muscle on his back and the slope of his temple as his hips collide with the man who french-kisses your cunt, fucking his ass at the same tempo rhythm.

It makes you restlessly grind your hips into Ari’s mouth at the sight, high on your cotton cloud of fluffy euphoria. Glassy eyes captivating the Eyes of the Heavens but feeling the heat of Hells Gates.

So torn between the two hemispheres, is bonding your heart and soul; like all the forgotten love letters you’ve pieced together, like the transforming moon going through its metamorphic stages.

Two strangers of the night, claiming your mind, body and soul— but how did it come to be?

The place was Lovers Lane, a roaring New Jersey club near the sparkling turquoise shores and blonde beaches. A place most memorable for good drinks, the Hampton-like waves and hopeless strangers dirty dancing under disco balls until they fall in and out of love.

Tonight, was one of the typical Saturday nights that anyone local with money and time to burn in the city would spend it here. Hollywood stars appearing here and there yet no one really notices the highly acclaimed Ari Levinson and creative genius Clay Appuzzo at a private booth.

Swooning strangers with their mysterious connections and unspoken secrets in their citrus margarita eyes. However, it was not common for them to run across a mystery of their own.

She, the midnight woman in strawberry red was a rarity in the tarot cards gifted down from the wicked stars. Possessing their twinkle and burn the minute she stepped in and flooded the dance floor in her energy.

She’s a dizzy reverie in strawberry silk, destined to enthrall the photographer that dances with her to his knees, his hands raised in a prophet's prayer. Pleading to taste the lips of the midnight woman in strawberry lipstick, staining both the lovers' minds in seventy-nine-dollar lip prints.

The thought is both appetizing and beyond Clay’s sinful imagination, to his lovestruck eyes and curious hands that grow more curious. They hold the roundness of her ass against his hardening member under the polaroid lights of the spiraling disco ball and she smirks.

How did she come to be?

Ari Levinson wonders, he feels himself spiraling even when he’s seated on a barstool. Pairs of lovers besides him line up the bar yet he reserves his space for his lover, and another for the woman rocking his beliefs and heart.

Pink honeysuckles of growing fascination and temptation bloom sharp and explode like firecrackers inside his chest. The petals of curiosity fall to the pits of his stomach, blossoming seeds of hesitation and anticipation. They sprout with a glance, a wink, a flip of her bouncy hair to his direction.

This enthrallment trails dangerous allurement inside Ari Levinson, whispering a prophecy in the conch shell of his ears that ales his ocean hues follow your prominent figure. Swimming through the purple liquid of his pomegranate tequila in the cocktail glass he looks through, he sets it down after taking a mouthful sip.

Rosy-dawned fingertips clasp the mood ring around his thumb, fading away from a blue glow to a red when you catch his gaze. With another set of rubs to the crystal you both bashfully look away, you looking back to the tall man that grabs your hips as you both dance against each other.

A sense of corrupted virtue in your mascara stroked eyes, no one could suspect that the same man is looking at Ari with that same look. They both radiate sex and hunger, something Ari writes for a living and sensate every day. But for some reason it doesn’t possess meaning when you’re the outline and archetype of every word and desire he’s written on his old typewriter.

It’s perplexing, because nothing Ari could write can he bring into existence. Although, this event of his lover dancing with the mysterious stranger with the magnetic eyes and entrancing lips that seem to captivate everyone is a ripped page straight out of one of his erotica’s.

The taste of pomegranate soaks his mouth, his scruff cheeks warming as the alcohol swims through his veins. Exhilaration fuels the pace of his heart that beats along with the music, Ari observed the dance between Clay and the mystery woman becoming more handsy and intimate.

It’s getting Ari feeling a delirious type of feather light, burning all over till he pulls off the brown leather jacket off his shoulders. Unbuttoning the three buttons of his peacock blue polo till the gold in his Star of David glimmers, he calls Jake the bartender over.

“You called Levinson,” the man remarks, his candy-striped button-up rolled up to his elbows. Drinking from a glass bottle of coke, enjoying the free entertainment that came along with being a bartender.

The older man doesn’t look at him, making the curious bartender Jacob Wolf shift his gaze to where his loyal customer glances. Amused, his hazelnut hues latch sight on the woman who's on everyone's mind and paycheck.

“Give the strawberry dream over there a drink. It’s on me.” Ari drawls, not withdrawing his longing stare away from her despite the growing crowds of dancing bodies intervene.

Jacob laughs, because only God knows how many times he’s been asked that. “Alright, what are your requests?” the man questions, enjoying the look of blank answers written on Ari’s features.

Usually, when Clay and Ari pick a girl up, they wouldn’t care what to get her and neither of them would care. Whatever that made the girl soft and dreamy on them did the trick, but you don't seem to apply to that. Ari needs to impress you; he needs to figure out where your strings like to be pulled.

“I suppose I should ask her.” he sighs, he doesn’t know why it came out so airy and delicate and it makes Jacob snicker again.

Jugging down the rest of his cold cola, he disposed it before patting own the blue velvet on Ari’s shoulder. “Smart, because they didn’t do that and she hasn’t touched a single drink all night.” his head gestures to the opposite side of the bar aligned with various drinks of sizes and colors, all untouched.

Ari manages to find the familiar tall figure of his boyfriend and where Clay is he manages to find her. Kissing him like a tease and pulling away for him to crave more of her forbidden fruit lips. If only his ears could catch the sweet sounds of her moaning softly against Clay's lips. Commenting how they taste like cherries, Ari knows that she’s thinking that his lips taste like cherries.

The music gets louder, the lights spin faster, his thoughts get wilder. Looking back Ari sees her fingers in his raven hair, her palms rubbing the exposed skin of his chest and her striking body rocking against his thigh.

Ari smirks and sips from his drink, recognizing Clay’s tactic of initiating a heated dance to just excuse himself for a little break. Leaving whatever woman he dances with hooked, he doesn’t even need to count down the minute because he’s now sitting down next to him.

Panting like dog in heat, Clay lets out a tamed but tipsy howl. “I have t’say this Ari, woman these days are made to destroy men. I can’t get enough of ‘em, they kill me in the best way.”

The man who’s been dancing for half an hour pants whilst his hand sneaks to rub Ari’s thigh, running his fingers through his own tasseled hair. White teeth flash and Ari feels faint when Clay has the audacity to get his tube of cherry chapstick from his pocket and apply another coat of cherry chapstick on his lips.

“Hey Alpha! What does a guy have t’do to getta pepino over here!” Clay hollers, smirking wider when Jacob rolls his eyes as he finishes up a trick of vodka shots to entertain a group tourists.

“And that gal back there, I think— let me hold that thought. I think someone’s needy for some attention.” Clay gestures to her figure dancing alone under the disco ball, catching the lime and cucumber drink sliding through the grapefruit vinyl.

Both their eyes trail back to her body grooving to the new beat, the circulation of her hips and the flow of her waist and shoulders entrance them. Clays hands rub at the coffee brown velvet wrapped around his thighs, taking Ari’s hand and putting them on his throbbing cock.

Erect by the fuck me eyes you give to the two men and the way Ari’s teeth pull his own bottom lip in between them. Straining when Ari grabs at it under the shadow of the bar ledge, the crystal in his mood ring glowing red.

“What are you thinkin’ honey?” Ari draws, lips tracing the dimple on Clay's smile while his thumb rubs the ruby ring wrapped around his lovers middle finger.

A little endowment he gifted Clay one night in some hotel honeymoon suite when he knew he fell deeply in love with him. Clay bites his bottom lip, normally his boyfriend would be hesitant to show him this much attention in public but it seems tonight is a packed house.

Everyone seems to have their eyes on their own conquests, playing a cat and mouse game just to feel something. The same game you’re playing, their burning hues are glued to her spellbind silhouette who continues to dance with entranced men with sex tosseled hair and women in see-through sequined bralettes.

All the attention she attracts, all the desires she derives, she keeps her fixed gaze on Ari. Sending a silent whisper from the movement of her lips, asking him for a dance with the playful wink that makes Ari’s knees shake.

“Suppose I should be askin’ what you’re thinkin’ Levinson.” Clay sends him a cocksure grin, taking the pepino tequila he ordered and taking a long sip, not pulling his own lust drunk gaze away.

“I’m thinkin she’s fuckin perfect. I know this might seem crazy but, fuck— she put a damn spell on me, honey. What am I supposed to do?” Ari talks like a man deprived of water and sex, both things Clay provide for him and he doesn’t disagree with Ari’s confession.

“I think you should dance with her. Look at her eyes, fuck look at ‘em Ari.” Clay growls as his hand with the ruby ring wraps around Ari’s jaw so his taunted blues can lock with her hues from the other side of the dance floor.

“Just look at her—“ Ari is and how could he not? “She’s beggin’ you for a dance. Read her eyes, she’s beggin’ you to make a move.” she’s biting her lip, her body moving in sync to the song and Ari’s pounding heartbeat.

“What are you gonna do with her? How are you gonna please her?” Ari shivers as Clay whispers, liquor-soaked lips brushing against the soft skin of his ear.

The man with the shoulder length hair of honey can’t look away and he won’t look away. It’s the way she seems to draw everyone's attention to her, the way she embodies everyone's deepest secrets and desires.

Maybe it’s from the delirious moment to act without giving attentive thought that encourages him to sip more from his glass and shamelessly gawk at her, at you.

Perhaps it’s the hand that rubs at his hardening cock and teeth that grasp the skin of his ear which drive him to imagine what it would be like to have you naked and moaning in between him and Clay.

Or for all Ari Levinson knows, it could be the factor that he wears his heart on his sleeve and you're undoing the buttons of his heart strings with a satisfaction that makes your lashes bat and your own beating muscle flutter.

“What are you waitin’ for?” Clay whispers and Ari curses himself for wondering the same thing, his feet hitting the polished tiles as his body joins the other sweaty and lust-radiating ones on the dance floor.

Strangers touch him, strangers dance with him, strangers tell him the numbers to their hotel rooms, but he still locks his eyes to you and moves closer, closer, closer.

Till he becomes face to face with you, eyes batting, bodies moving, noses touching and hands wandering as you two bring everyone’s attention on you both.

It’s arousing, lewd, promiscuous and everyone’s immorally drunk on it as the music only gets louder and the euphoria of colorful lights spin faster. Your peach painted nails trace Ari’s beard whilst your ass grinds against his body, going down till he can see the lascivious curve of your back.

Getting down until your hands touch your platforms, Ari’s hands grasp your hips, massaging the softness while the delicious friction of your plump ass drags slowly against his thighs, loins and finally till it grinds against his boner.

Wolf whistles and drunk whoops of encouragement ring out and with another spin of the disco ball does Ari notice his lover joins in on the dance. The midnight woman’s lust drunk eyes match the erotic olives of Clays, the air becoming thicker and the lights gleaming a deep red as the man with the ruby ring moves his body to match hers.

Ari’s mouth tracing her neck and his cock rubbing against your ass. The two of them are a dangerous mixture of lethal lust, intoxicated off them just as they are off you. The midnight woman, you, would never have thought to have a night like this.

Dancing with the man who writes all the romantic erotic novels you play with your pussy to and the man who photographs the covers for them. The very men of your dreams you’ve never that you’ve ever find in your coffee-stained reality, yet here you are living it.

please let this night last, make this dream last forever

Ari takes takes you’re face in his hands and presses a wet and gentle kiss, all you can taste is pomegranate and the sudden craving you have for more.

“I don’t want this night to end either.” Ari lips move against your neck, thrumming the violin strings of your heart.

“Ari, what do you say we make her night even more special and take her to see the patio.” Clay speaks as if you weren’t there, although your face heats up as the legendary Clay Appuzzo kisses your hand.

“I say that sounds like a good idea, away from preying eyes. Just us and our strawberry.” Ari agrees with a hum, taking your other hand in his large one and sucking down on your pulse.

The threat of his teeth nips at your skin and suddenly you're dizzy all over despite not having a single drink. Continuing the motions of your hips, your head pulls back giving him your approving moans.

“That sounds perfect.”

♡♡♡ thank you for reading! ♡♡♡ i’d appreciate it if you’d reblog or leave a comment what you think and see you soon for part two! ♡♡♡

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — @amethystnalaah . @lavendercitizen . @babyyhoneyydarling . ♡

[openforjean]

Kinktober day 3 - shower sex

Warnings: (+18) unprotected sex, lite dirty talk

A/n: b nice this is my 1st day k

“If you slip Clay, we’re never having sex in here again,” You say as Clay lifts you up and places your legs around his waist. His erect member was poking your thigh, and he shifted to the shower head. The water hit you, as the water ran down our bodies. Clay kept his eyes on yours, like he was reading them. 

“Since I made you cum in the car, why don’t we just cut to the fun?” Clay asked with a hint of his Italian accent.

“Yes please,” You respond.

Clay slipped his member into you, his member stretches you all the time. He starts to guide your hips on his cock.

“My girl looks so beautiful on my cock,” Clay moans as I squeeze around his cock. The water isn’t helping with trying not to be loud. It made it louder every time you bounced on him. He slams you to the wall behind you and goes faster. His mouth attacks your jawline, and trails down to your chest. He lifts his head up just in time for your orgasm. His hair is soaked, you hold onto his neck.

“Is my pretty baby gonna cum?” He coos, you furrow your brows and your lips part to release a moan. Your legs start to shake, your cunt does too. The feeling of it sends Clay into overdrive and he spills his seed into you. He holds you there and buries his head into your neck. You can hear his deep breaths and feel his cock twitch inside you. He pulls out and places you on your feet. You two finish the shower with cleaning each other up. 

kinktober taglist: @ultramarvelslug @buckybonky @queenoftheunderdark

[buckyshenley16]

The height difference between me and seb BAHAHAHAHA

[lilsnooks010]

When someone tries to tell me Seb can’t act

UMMMM👏🏻

EXCUSE👏🏻ME👏🏻

YOU👏🏻

ARE👏🏻

MISTAKEN👏🏻

MY👏🏻BOI👏🏻

IS👏🏻MORE👏🏻VERSATILE👏🏻

THAN👏🏻A👏🏻THNEED👏🏻

YOU👏🏻

SILLY👏🏻

GOOSE👏🏻

[evanstanwrites]

Sebastian Stan + characters

* one shots

in the middle of the night (Bucky) (smut)

the light behind your eyes (Bucky)

immortal love (Bucky)

pinpoint art love ( tattoo artist Sebastian AU) (smut)

familiar taste of poison (Mob Bucky)

A Night With the Gold (Lance Tucker x Plus sized Reader) (Smut)

The Scene ( Sub! Sebastian) (Smut)

Run ( Mobster Bucky AU) / part 2  / part 3 (smut)

Miles High (Sebastian) (Smut)

Goldie’s (Clay Appuzzo) * requested

Ghost Adventures (Chase Collins)

Is this the end ? ( Sebastian) (smut) *requested

you say ( Bucky) ( Smut)

comfort in times of grieve ( Bucky)

officer Barnes (dark Bucky) (smut)

*headcanon

Bucky x Renee: telling Tony Renee is pregnant and Bucky is the father

* series

Lost love, broken trust (biker au)

The Myth of Bucky Barnes (Mob! Bucky / sm)

The CEO masterlist (ceo/mob au) (completed)

who the hell is this? masterlist (sm/soulmate au, Bucky) (completed)

The Notebook AU masterlist (Bucky): wip (slow updates)

broken dreams masterlist (Lance Tucker): (on hold)

Drive (Sebastian) * rewriting * coming soon

* drabbles

Biker Bucky x Reader/ part 2

[callingmrsbarnes]

I finally watched "I'm Dying Up Here" and Clay Appuzzo has fucking ruined me. 😩😭

[navegandoaciegas]

most of my fav fics are written by u so here’s my top 3😅

for bang bang: 💡✏️⭐️

for 1-2-3 way: 🏔📜

for broken wings: 💎🗝☠️

Thank you 😩❤️

Bang bang

💡-What was the motivation behind the story? None other than I randomly saw a gif set of CE as Ari Levinson and SS as Clay Appuzzo and started fantasizing about stealing the Gioconda from the Louvre with them 🥰 In Bang Bang I settled for robbing Stark’s mansion instead but it is what it is 😂

✏️-Would you go back and change anything if you could?

Not really, I had a lot of fun writing it and I’m proud of how it turned out.

⭐- What’s a scene/paragraph you’re proud of?

“Such a good girl bunny, lool you at you. You’re perfect.”

You meet the woman in the mirror: she looks beautiful, wanton, dishevelled, like a twisted, erotitic painting. You wish Steve were here to see you, and then he’d paint you so pretty too.

Steve is a failed aspiring painter here, I loved that idea for some reason

1-2-3 Way

⛰️- What was the hardest part? I tend to avoid threesomes and orgies because they’re hard af to write in my opinion. The writing can become heavy with a lot of technicalities and specifying what belongs to who real quick. The smut part as a whole was pretty hard for me ngl

📜-Do you want to write something like this again in the future? Knowing how much of a whore I am, probably 💀 but like i said, this kind of stories are a nightmare for me, so not anytime soon

Broken Wings

💎- What was your favorite part? The idea behind the title, that the reader is a free soul just waiting to spread her wings, and Lee is right there behind her to clip them.

🗝️-What were you thinking when you wrote it?

✨d i c k✨

And how Lee eventually dies in the movie, so karma gets his ass for good

☠️- Did you consider killing off any of the characters? Did you? Nah, I don’t like killing off characters in my stories.

Ask game