[the new angle is too damn good, ensuring deeper strokes inside him, sparks engulf his vision as Bucky hits his sweet spot head on every single time. He curls one arm around Bucky's neck, fingers twining in the long locks there while the other clutches at his hip-- to keep a hold on Bucky, to ensure he doesn't slide off him, whichever the case, the shapes of Lupin's fingers in his skin won't last.
That's okay because the sweet, sickly sensation that's built in his chest, that shudders every time their chests rub together, will remain.
When Bucky utters his first name, Lupin's eyes shoot open (when had he closed them? he doesn't recall), something like consideration on his face. Every time he rises, Bucky's cock nearly slides out of him, only for him to slam back down so hard his hips hurt.
Oh, but its so, so good. He gasps and keens at every jostle to his sweet spot, every trail of that hot mouth on him.]
You really want to complicate this by hyphenating? You're definitely my husband.
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That's okay because the sweet, sickly sensation that's built in his chest, that shudders every time their chests rub together, will remain.
When Bucky utters his first name, Lupin's eyes shoot open (when had he closed them? he doesn't recall), something like consideration on his face. Every time he rises, Bucky's cock nearly slides out of him, only for him to slam back down so hard his hips hurt.
Oh, but its so, so good. He gasps and keens at every jostle to his sweet spot, every trail of that hot mouth on him.]
You really want to complicate this by hyphenating? You're definitely my husband.