#stark parties

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Rich White Men Parties

Summary: Reader feels sick and Tony makes her go to the gala anyway. Pepper comes to your rescue.

TW: vomiting, swearing (once), fever, illness, not being believed, semi-nudity (consented)

Pairing: Pepper x Reader (platonic)

Words: 2k

A/n back at it with the marvel fics again!!!

You needed to show face. It was a fact, one tony had been reminding you of, all week. He knew you hated the gala, thats what you had skipped the last three of them. And now Tony had put his foot down.

On Tuesday he enlisted steve. The two of them had stated that if you skipped this gala, you would be benched from missions for a month

On Wednesday you had been feeling a little off. Chalking it up to a restless nights sleep you drank some more water and took a nap.

Thursday was when things started to go down hill. The water you drank had done nothing. Well … it made you need to pee more but that was it. You had a headache that would have probably taken down Thor.

By Thursday evening you felt like shit on a stick. Your head hurt, your eyes hurt, and your body ached all over. You had decided it was too much. Which was what led you to this point.

You were stood on the threshold of Tony’s lab, debating if this was worth it. You flipped the idea over in your mind like an omelette and decided to just bite the bullet.

You cleared your throat and stepped into the lab. However, that just made your throat hurt.

Tony’s eyes snapped up from his work bench. Peter was sat down on a stool nearby doing homework and his head lifted slowly to watch.

“Mr Stark?” You said timidly.

“Yes?” Tony responded seemingly already annoyed.

“I… I don’t think i can make it to the gala.” You began but he cut you off.

“I don’t wanna hear it L/n. You know the consequence, benched or gala.” He said and turned his eyes back to his work.

“But sir-“ you pressed, and he cut you off again which made you huff quietly.

“Parker? You don’t hear excuses, do you?” Tony asked peter childishly.

“Well sir-“ peter started.

“Never mind kid. Y/n the answers still no.” Tony said.

“Sir she doesn’t look so good.” Peter said taking in your sickly appearance.

“She can shape-shift Pete. If anyone can fake sickness, it’s her. Now finish your homework.” Tony said before turning back to face you.

The flush on your cheeks may have been from anger, embarrassment or the start of a fever, you didn’t know, but it was there.

“L/n, get yourself together. We all hate the media. Press conferences suck. Galas are a step up from that. You, as an avenger, have shown face the least of everyone. It’s impacting your funding, the teams funding. If you want to keep getting missions, you need to give SHEILD a reason to have you in the field more. And on top of training, you need people to like and respect you. Get yourself cleaned up and put your big girl pants on. You're coming to the gala tomorrow night or … like steve said your benched for a month.” Tony said before turning back to his project.

You knew it was over, with a pitying look from peter you nodded to the kid and slunk off down the hall.

You had spent the rest of your day wasting away in your bed. Nausea began to grow in your stomach and despite your body’s protest you forced down a meagre dinner of white rice and chicken.

You called in for an early night and hoped it would all be over tomorrow.

When you woke you felt like shit. Your eyes were tired and sore as you opened them. You dragged your gaze over to the bedside table and almost jumped out of your skin. It was three in the afternoon. You had maybe two and a half hours before the gala started.

Your bones ached, your skin ached, your eyes and your head ached. And more than anything you wanted nothing to do with the gala. But you couldn’t be benched for a whole month. But even now as you felt like hell had frozen over, did it begin seeming like a little less of an awful fate. It was better than throwing up on yourself in front of a room of rich white men in stuffy suits with models hanging off their arms and every word. God, you hated galas.

You pressed a palm to your eye in an attempt to dull the pounding ache in your skull. It did nothing to stave off the persistent form of torture.

You willed yourself to get up, taking at least three spoons to get out of bed.

You stumbled once you were on your feet, steadying yourself on the wall as the room spun and your stomach lurched violently into your chest.

You took carefully calculated wobbly steps to the bathroom before crashing to your knees and heaving. It was unpleasant to say the least. You spat out the foul taste and stood to flush the toilet. You brushed your teeth and inspected your reflection in the mirror. Lifting a finger to make sure that sick and tired looking person in the bathroom mirror really was you.

It was.

You checked the clock and decided to just start getting ready no matter how much you just at wanted to sleep despite having done nothing but sleep all day.

You grabbed the first dress you could find. A tight black number with a slit in the side that almost was something to write home about … almost.

It dipped low on your chest to show off your debt to god otherwise known as perfect boobs. It hugged in the middle to accentuate that snatched waistline and thighs.

You put it on and shivered. It was cold in the thin fabric, or maybe it was too warm. Who knew.

You sat down harshly at the vanity and put on a thick layer of makeup to cover the exhaustion and pale sweaty skin complete with deep purple eye-bags.

You slathered it on thick and fast before checking the time again. You swallowed back the growing pit of sickness in your stomach and began to tame your wild hair.

By the time you had slowly managed to look alive again it was past time for the gala to start.

You summoned your remaining strength to drag yourself up out of the chair. You looked in the mirror once more and fixed your long curly hair.

Sighing you tried to smile like you weren’t dying of a headache what was most likely the initial stages of the flu.

Deeming it good enough you stated out of gala.

When you entered the well-lit room of stuffy rich people your head wanted to split open. And you were ready to let it if it helped.

The music hurt your head, the lights hurt your eyes and the stuffy rich men hurt your soul which was fighting valiantly to leave your body.

You trudged over to a seat in the corner and sat down trying to hide from it all.

The avengers plus pepper were spread across the floor mingling. You watched them from your perch and brooded. Stupid tony and his stupid ego. He could fund the avengers single handedly and still run stark industries.

You fought to keep your head up as exhaustion rolled over you in waves of crushing fatigue.

You groaned quietly and turned to look out the window.

After a few minutes you felt the nausea returning. After a few more you knew there was no stopping the next onslaught of vomiting.

You stood and shivered, heading for the women’s bathrooms, knowing there was no time to find some real privacy.

You hurried across the floor and into the bathroom. You beelined for the largest stall, not bothering to lock it and sunk to your knees.

Your head hovered above the bowl as you gagged and tired to fight it off.

In your haste you had missed that one of the stalls was occupied. Now as you fought heart and soul to not empty your stomach into the toilet, someone was quickly washing their hands.

Then a small knock sounded on the bathroom stall.

“Are you ok in there?” A voice asked and in your fevered haze you failed to recognise its owner. You wanted to respond but you knew if you opened your mouth, it was all over.

As there was no response the door began to open as you turned around again in time to throw up.

Peppers gentle hands scooped your hair off your collar and up out of the way. She used her other hand to gently rub circles on your back.

“It’s ok Y/n/n. You’re alright. Get it out.” She hushed and when you were done you turned to face her with a weak smile.

“Thanks pep.” You rasped.

“Too much to drink?” She chuckled and you didn’t respond, instead spacing out looking at her high heeled shoes. “Y/n/n?” She prompted a frown marring her lips and a wrinkle in her brow. “Earth to Y/n.” She said and still without a response she brushed a curl from your eyes before quickly retracting her hand.

After a second, she replaced it, laid flat against your forehead.

“Oh honey.” She said looking sad. “You’re sick. You have a fever darling.” She cooed and you looked at her with tears on your waterline.

“I know.” You pouted trying not to cry. “Tony wouldn’t listen.” You sobbed.

“Oh sweetie. He’ll listen to me. You and I are going to head to bed, and I’ll look after you. You’re not well and need rest. Whatever Tony thinks, he has another thing coming. Now can you stand up?” She asked softly.

You nodded and slowly stood, swaying on your feet slightly as you did. Pepper put an arm around you and leaned over to flush the toilet.

Then she gently guided you out of the bathroom and over to the lift.

It was a slight blur but before you knew it you were sat on your bed as pepper gently used a cloth to wipe off your makeup.

“For someone who’s hands haven’t stopped shaking, you did a great job on the makeup.” She smiled and you nodded, too fevered to really register the compliment from the queen of galas herself. She looked at you sadly and headed to the bathroom.

She disposed of the washcloth and picked up a thermometer. Coming back to the bed she put the thermometer into your mouth and gently guided you out of your dress. Leaving you in a bra and panties. She slipped on a large T-shirt you slept in and braided your hair.

Then she took out the thermometer and frowned.

“Tonys a deadman.” She said and popped out two fever reducers for you.

She laid her hand on your forehead again to gauge if it was higher than before or not and clicked her tongue. “Defiantly getting these meds.” She said to herself and deposited them in your hands.

She helped you have some water and the medicine and tucked you into bed.

“I’m going to go change but I’ll be back later to check on you. Don’t worry honey, we’ll make sure you get well in no time. I’ll look after you.” She said and Jarvis turned down the lights as she sat down, promising to stay until you fell asleep and to be there when you woke up.

Pepper was like the mum you never had, and it was everything and all your little heart could handle or ever need.

[kenneth-black]

“we might end up real close” if only Buck knew how true that statement would turn out

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

3x18 ➡️ 7x6 

[stevenrogered]

Ryan & Oliver + making each other laugh on set

[owarinaki]

Frieren Manga illustration art 1

part 1 // part2 // part 3

[starrylanex]

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY

PAIRING - bucky barnes x reader

SUMMARY - bucky cant help but get jealous at stark’s party as he watches you interact with the others, because all he wants to do is kiss you then and there

WC - 1,1k

EXTRA - one use of y/n, bucky being jealous and overprotective, stark being a smartass,

NOTES - hi angels, if i made a patreon where i would update regularly with longer fics and answer your asks quicker, would anyone support me there too?

PS. - english isn’t my first language so if you see any grammar or spelling mistakes please don’t hesitate to point them out:))

—

the rhythmic pulse of music filled the opulent halls of stark tower, the vibrant lights casting kaleidoscopic patterns across the dance floor. tony stark's parties were legendary, a whirlwind of glamour, extravagance, and hedonism. yet amidst the glittering throng of guests, bucky barnes found himself feeling distinctly out of place.

clad in a sleek suit that hugged his muscular frame, bucky stood at the edge of the room, his steel-blue eyes scanning the crowd with a mix of wariness and apprehension. his grip tightened around the crystal tumbler in his hand as he watched the scene unfold before him.

amidst the sea of revelers, his gaze inevitably found its way to you, the object of his affection and the reason for his unease. you moved with effortless grace, your laughter ringing out like a melody amidst the voices.

bucky's heart clenched painfully in his chest as he watched you interact with the other guests, a swarm of admirers vying for your attention. he knew he had no right to feel this way—no claim over you—but the sight of other men hovering around you like vultures sent a surge of possessiveness coursing through his veins.

"hey there, buckaroo," a voice interrupted his thoughts, and bucky turned to see tony stark himself sauntering up to him, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"enjoying the party?" tony asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief and sipping on his own glass of champagne.

bucky forced a tight smile, the tension in his jaw betraying his true feelings. "yeah, it's a real blast," he replied tersely, his gaze flickering back to where you were standing across the room.

tony followed his line of sight and chuckled knowingly. "ah, i see. keeping an eye on y/n, are we?" he teased, nudging bucky playfully.

bucky bristled at the implication, his jaw clenching in frustration. "she's just a friend," he muttered through gritted teeth, though the words felt hollow even to his own ears.

tony raised an eyebrow, his expression one of mock disbelief. "right, just a friend," he echoed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "tell me, barnes, do you always look at your friends like you want to devour them whole?"

bucky's cheeks flushed crimson at the implication, a surge of guilt mingling with the simmering jealousy in his chest. he opened his mouth to protest, but before he could utter a word, a commotion erupted across the room.

a group of boisterous guests had gathered around you, their laughter ringing out like a chorus of bells. bucky's heart plummeted as he watched a particularly persistent admirer step too close for comfort, his hand lingering on your lower back.

without a second thought, bucky was striding across the room, his jaw set in a steely resolve. he reached you in a matter of seconds, his presence looming over the other man like a thundercloud.

"is there a problem here?" bucky's voice was low and dangerous, a warning laced with thinly veiled menace. winter soldier coming through for a second.

the other man recoiled at the sudden intrusion, his eyes widening in surprise. "n-no, no problem at all," he stammered, taking a hasty step back.

bucky's gaze never wavered from yours as he gently took your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. "come on," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm amidst the chaos of the party. "let's get out of here."

you nodded wordlessly, your heart pounding in your chest as bucky led you away from the crowd, his protective presence a shield against the world outside.

as you slipped away into the quiet solitude of the night, the tangled web of jealousy and desire that had ensnared you both seemed to unravel, leaving only the fragile threads of something deeper—a connection that transcended words and boundaries, binding you together in ways neither of you could fully comprehend.

the cool night air greeted bucky and you as the two of you stepped out onto the balcony, the cacophony of the party fading into the distance behind you. bucky's grip on your hand remained firm but gentle, a silent reassurance in the darkness.

"i'm sorry," you murmured, breaking the tense silence that hung between them. "i didn't mean to cause a scene back there."

bucky shook his head, his expression softening as he turned to face you. "you didn't do anything wrong, angel," he replied earnestly, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. "i just couldn't stand seeing you surrounded by those assholes."

a soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips, gratitude warming your heart at his words. "thank you, bucky," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "for always looking out for me.

bucky's heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in your eyes, a rush of warmth flooding his chest. "always," he vowed, his voice filled with quiet determination.

for a long moment, the two of you stood together in comfortable silence, the only sound the gentle rustle of the wind against the city skyline and faded music coming from the party. the weight of unspoken emotions hung heavy in the air.

then, without warning, something came over him, and bucky's hand cupped your cheek, his touch tender yet possessive as he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. time seemed to stand still as you gazed into each other's eyes, the world around you fading into obscurity.

he waited patiently for you to move away form him, to give him a sign that this wasn’t what you wanted, but you stayed still, waiting for him to finish what he started.

and then, with a soft exhale, bucky closed the distance between you two, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss that spoke of promises yet to be fulfilled. it was a moment of pure vulnerability, a silent confession of the feelings that had long simmered beneath the surface.

as you finally pulled away, not because you wanted to, but because you had to take a breath, the world seemed to shift on its axis, the weight of uncertainty replaced by a newfound sense of clarity. in each other's arms, the two of you found solace amidst the chaos, a beacon of light guiding them through the darkness.

"i don't ever want to lose you, precious," bucky whispered, his voice barely audible above the whisper of the wind.

you smiled softly, your heart overflowing with emotion as you pressed closer to him, seeking refuge in his embrace. "you won't," you promised, the words a vow etched in the depths of your soul. "i'm right here, bucky. Always. and i dont plan on going anywhere anytime soon."

and as you stood together beneath the starlit sky, your intertwined hands a symbol of the unbreakable bond that bound you two together, you knew that no matter what the future held, you would face it together, hand in hand, hearts entwined in a love that defied all odds.

[jollyreginaldrancher]

They look like they're about to engage in the world's saddest lap dance

[bilosan]

RYAN GUZMAN - 100th episode party

[meep-meep-richie]

Tommy is officially Bucks date now

[911bts]

[ladystoneboobs]

"balder than she remembered" is a great catelyn pov quote on its own but also could be proof that stannis started going bald pretty young. i mean he's only 35 max here and it must have been some years since cat could have seen him previously--already somewhat balding--bc it's not like he was ever known to visit the north before asos/adwd. so fitting that stannis is not only the only known bald baratheon, he's also the type of guy to start losing his hair in his late teens/early 20s at most. maybe that one officialish art of him looking older than 19 during the siege of storm's end isn't that off. art true to the spirit of the text should have young adult stannis with a noticeable receding hairline at least.

[theangrykimchi]

Happy Halloween! Thor and Loki are going to attend a Halloween party, what about you?

[kotekenobiiiii]

LIKE WHY ARE THEY COMPLIMENTING AND CALLING EACH OTHER 'GENIUS' OR 'LOVE IT' LIKE A MARRIED COUPLE THIS CAN'T BE REAL I- I CAN'T-

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dyspathy

Warnings: non/dubcon, fingering, implied virginity, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Part of Roo’s Pajama Party (October 7-8)

Prompt: Dyspathy - lack of sympathy (List of prompts here) + this look

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. I hope you enjoy this one and have a lovely weekend.

“You got any whiskey around here?” 

The metal boots crunch on broken glass. You shiver in only a satin sheath, wide awake despite the itch in your eyes. Your heart is still pounding from the chaotic awakening. You sniff and rub your nose. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask in a crisp croak. 

Tony chuckles as his suit gleams against the overhead light. He makes no effort to be subtle. His eyes search the front room of your apartment as he trods over the shards of glass. Your windows are shattered from his intrusion. 

“You know why I’m here, sweetheart,” he faces you and puts his hands on his hips, gauntlets clunking on his hi-tech armour. “You were never very... low key.” 

“I don’t,” you insist. “I have no idea why you would be here.” 

Your nipples poke against the thin night gown as another breeze rolls through. You hug yourself as he clucks and tilts his head. His eyes flit up and down. His brow arches. 

“That idiot could never see what’s right fucking in front of him,” he mutters. “You know what idiot I mean.” 

You blink and shake your head. Your cheeks burn. You think you know but you haven’t seen either them in a year. Not since you quit. 

“You really expect me to believe that you’re not helping him? Come on. Even right now, just thinking about Captain Good Boy, I see you getting all googly eyed,” he taunts. He taps his chest and his suit retracts into itself. “This doesn’t have to be difficult. Just give up lover boy and I’ll go in peace.” 

You frown, “I’m telling the truth. I haven’t seen Steve.” 

“Oooh, Steve,” he puts on a voice and bats his lashes dramatically. “He didn’t give a fuck before but now that he’s a criminal, he’s got time for ya, doesn’t he, baby?” 

“No.” 

“You know that’s what he is now. He’s aiding and abetting a fugitive. A murderer,” he snarls and comes closer. “And if you’re lying to me, so are you. Thing is, sweetheart, if that’s the case, you’re not special. Not like him. They want him alive, him and that metal-armed fuck. No one cares about you.” He brings his hand up under your chin, “hell, Cap doesn’t either. You’re just a convenience. A safehouse, a warm hole.” 

You shove him away, repulsed. 

“I’m not lying. If he showed up, I wouldn’t help him. But he hasn’t.” You back up as he reaches for you again. You dodge his grasp. “I quit. I walked away from that. From all of you. You are all just the same and I know that now. You just laugh at people who aren’t you. Whatever you’re fighting about, I don’t care. Leave me out of it.” 

He hums and snorts, “I just can’t believe you. I watched you moon over him for ages and now you’re what? Bitter? You never had that in you.” 

“Fine. Look around. I don’t care. You won’t find anything,” you hiss. “Because you’re right. He never cared about me. You really think he’d come groveling to me?” 

He smirks, “desperate measures.” 

You look away and sniff. He always was mean. People always called him funny or clever, but he’s always been cruel. If you’re not a woman he wants to fuck, you’re nothing. 

He continues around the apartment. You sit in chair and cross your arms. You ignore his intrusion as he lifts cushions, checks under the coffee table, then wanders down to your bedroom. You hear the draws scraping in and out. Books hitting the floor. You’re angry but mostly because you’re helpless. He’ll find nothing and he’ll go. 

“Jeez, you really live like this,” his voice wafts down the hall ahead of him. He emerges back into the light and whistles, “I mean, you are having a bit of fun, aren’t you?” 

He wiggles a silver shape between his fingers. You cringe. The small bullet vibe stays in your nightstand. Your sole companion on lonely nights. 

“So, he’s smart. He doesn’t leave a trace. Well, I’ll just have to ask you some big questions.” He approaches and you tense, pushing your shoulders back. You glare up at him. 

“I told you--” 

“You told me shit,” he interrupts. “So, we will do this the fun way.” He spins the vibe then click the button, “don’t worry, you’ll like it. Now, open those legs for me, baby. If it helps, you can pretend I’m him.” 

You scoff, “you’re disgusting.” 

“And you’re getting wet,” he sneers. “Pretend all you want but we both know you’re easy.” 

“Go. If you think I’m lying, go get a warrant. Arrest me--” 

“I don’t need all that,” he grabs your knee and pinches the pressure points until you squeal. You grip the armrests and arch your feet. You hiss up at him through your teeth. “I got full authority to do whatever needs to be done to get answers.” 

He wrenches your leg to the side and you wince. Your calf tendrils with electricity as he pinches deeper. You whine and writhe on the seat. 

“Pull that fucking skirt up,” he demands. 

“Tony--” 

“No, shut the fuck up and show me your pussy,” he growls. 

You gasp as the pain grows intolerable. You blink against the tinge of tears and curl your fingers into the satin. You tug up the midnight blue fabric and tremble. He shoves the buzzing toy against you, rolling it across your folds until it thrums against your clit. His finger tickles just along your flesh. 

“Knew you were getting wet for me,” he chuckles. “Ah, baby, if it was me, I’d have fucked you the moment you smiled at me with those lips.” He pushes the toy hard into you so it rattles your bones, “but it wasn’t fucking me, was it? You only had eyes for that fucking golden mannequin.” 

“Please--” 

“No, you talk when I want you too,” he wiggles the toy so your teeth chatter and you groan. “When was he here?” 

“I’m telling you--” 

He circles your clit with the tip and your thighs clench. He bends over you as he lets go of your knee. He grabs your hair and wrenches your head back until you look him in the eye. 

“You’re lying. When?” 

“He wasn’t--” 

He swirls the toy and you murmur nonsense. Your cunt clenches as you feel the climax building. You’re mortified at how quickly your body responds. You cling to the arms of the chair and arch your back. 

“He’s not--” 

“Tell the fucking truth.” 

“I am!” Your voice piques right as you’re about to explode. 

He pulls the toy off of you and your orgasm fizzles before it can erupt. You’re left untied and unsatisfied. He raises the vibe and shuts it off as he admires the sheen of your juices. He slides it between his lips. 

“Mm, sweet. He must love the taste of you. I know he’s coming back for more, huh?” He teases. 

“No, no,” you puff out, “he hasn’t--” 

“Does he share you with his buddy? Huh? You probably would. Captain’s orders, right?” 

You measure your breaths as your heartbeat peters out. He clicks the toy on again, this time tapping the button twice. He once more presses it against your bud. You squeak and twitch as you sway between your need and humiliation. 

He lets go of your hair as he rubs the toy up and down until you drone. Your lashes flutter and your body jitters. It’s so much different, so much more intense than when it’s just you. 

“What’s his favourite thing? He seems like a missionary guy.” 

You whimper and shake your head. You heave and blink up at him helplessly, “I don’t know. I swear. He hasn’t...” 

More embarrassing than what he’s doing is how pathetic you really are. You were head over heels for Steve. You dreamed of him, at night, during the day, and even with that toy in hand. Even after you swore him off, he still creeps back into your lonely fantasies, but never for real. 

You saw the news. You heard he was AWOL. You tried not to pay attention. Denial works for you but it won’t keep you safe. Just look at you now. 

“Ah, he hasn’t-- Oh, oh, oh,” you bite your lip and lean into the rising tension. He takes the toy away again. You moan and mewl and fall back weakly in the chair. 

“He can’t have been here recently, huh? Not with you so fucking needy,” he tuts. “Or maybe the greatest generation isn’t really all that great. He give you head?” 

You shiver and shake your head. You try to close your legs and he kicks your feet apart. Your knees splay as you latch onto the chair. Your body is jelly. 

He turns off the toy and flings it away. Your eyes follow it in disappointment. Your unspent orgasm tickles in your pelvis. 

He leans down to grab your thighs and lowers himself to his knees. His dark eyes glimmer menacingly as they wander up and down your body. 

“Show me those tits. I wonder if there as pretty as the pussy,” he slides his hand up your thigh and flicks your clit. 

You whimper and shakily bring your hands up to the thin straps. You pull them down your arms and uncover your chest. You look away as your skin smatters with goosebumps. 

“Mm, fuck, he really is stupid.” 

He traces along your folds, rubbing you up and down as he bends forward. He cups a tit in one hand as he takes your other nipple between his lips. He purrs as he sucks and teethes. The sensation plucks in your core. You groan and tilt your hips as he toys with your clit. 

He presses his thumb to your bud and angles his hand to push two fingers into you. You drone at the stretch. You never use more than the vibe. It always hurt too much to put anything in you but not this time. Your head lolls and your eyes drift over to watch the top of his head. 

He rolls your clit as he rocks his hand into you. He curls up and finds a spot that makes your insides pulse. You clasp onto his shoulders and moan. You need to cum. You don’t care that it’s him, that it’s not Steve; none of it matters. 

He pushes his hand in and out. Your cunt clings to him, making sloppy wet noises to match those of his mouth. He sucks your tit as he groans. He drags his mouth up your breast as he rams his knuckles into you, over and over. He smears his spit and hot breath over your skin. 

You mewl and hug his head as every ounce of thought trickles away. You quake as your orgasm crashes down like an icy wave on a hot day. You cry out in delight and rock in time with his hand. You feel the cool gush of your pleasure pour out onto the chair and you pant through the hammer of your heartbeat. 

He buries his fingers deep and reaches to unwrap your arm from his head. He sits back, his hair tussled, the silver along his temples puffed out. He grins and looks down, wiggling his hand against your cunt as you spasm. 

“I believe you, baby. You’re not this tight with a man banging down your doors,” he snickers and plays with you, eyes fixed between your legs. “But he’ll show up.” He pushes in until you whine, “and you’ll keep him on the hook til I get here, won’t you?” 

[tevanbuckley]

EVAN BUCKLEY + BISEXUAL LIGHTING ↳ episode 7.06

[laserpaper118]

Everyone: "Please let us see the uncut version of the bachelor party"

Oliver Stark: [releases footage after footage of deleted scenes including one where he rips an entire sleeve of Eddie's shirt off]