⟢ hot bar sex with cloud. that’s it. that’s the plot. sort of not really an au, just roll with it, okay? you get to fuck cloud and that’s enough. (check tags for warnings besties!)
⟢ told myself i wasn’t going to write any new characters for awhile…that went down the toilet because he drives me insane. also wrote this for @with-my-calamitous-love cuz i only need one person to be interested in my idea to set me off.
✩ m.list
Cloud and his slutty fucking waist.
Seventh Heaven is lively tonight. All the usual residents are taking up space — Barret, Biggs, Jessie, Wedge, Aerith, plus a couple handful more. Half are drunk off their asses, the other half blasting songs from the jukebox like an impromptu karaoke session.
About an hour ago, as the crowd overwhelmed Tifa, she’d shot you a desperate look for help from behind the bar. Despite being two shots deep you hopped over to lend a hand. Making drinks isn’t half bad, the tips are decent, so you don’t mind.
What you do mind, though, is Cloud.
It’s not hatred. It’s the thick, honey like heat pooling in your belly every time he’s around that bothers you. You can’t look at him for too long without flushing. Cloud’s devastating in terms of looks. All toned muscles and high cheek bones.
He’d sauntered into the bar ten minutes ago. Arms crossed as he chatted with Barret, an eyebrow lifting in amusement at something Wedge said.
Tifa’s inquisitive voice comes from the left. “Something on your mind?”
Your gaze snaps from Cloud to the glass you’re drying. “Nope. Nothing at all.”
Tifa nudges your shoulder playfully. You glance at her and she smiles. It’s a smile that says she knows you’re lying. “You sure? You’ve been staring at Cloud like you’re trying to burn a hole in him. Did he do something to upset you?”
You sigh, setting the glass down hard. A bit too hard, maybe. “No, it’s just — look at him!” You say with frustration. “His waist, it’s so —,” You gesture wildly in his direction, trying to grasp the right word. “So… slutty,” you finish lamely.
Tifa snorts, trying to hide her laughter as you barrel on. “It’s not fair Tifa! He’s a guy, why is his waist so slim? Why are his biceps like that?”
The alcohol has loosened your tongue.
A customer interrupts before Tifa responds and you’re left to simmer on your own. Cloud wanders between a few different people, not one to speak much but nodding when he needs to. Your gaze is glued to him. He catches your eye twice, on the third time he lifts a brow as if to ask “Is there a problem?”
You have to actively focus on looking anywhere but Cloud after that.
Eventually the crowd lessens. Tifa excuses herself for a moment, seeking out Cloud. She taps his shoulder and he turns, bending so she can whisper something in his ear. She points in your direction and Cloud makes sudden eye contact with you.
Something jolts in your belly as you look away.
Tifa returns a moment later. “I’m so sorry to do this. Barret just informed me Marlene is very sick, and he’s too drunk to look after her. Could you close the bar? Cloud agreed to stay and be your muscle if you need him.”
You give Tifa a dubious look, agreeing for Marlene’s sake and Marlene’s sake only. Tifa’s eyes twinkle as she wishes you farewell, winking as she departs.
Once the last person leaves Cloud locks the door.
There’s an awkward tension lingering. All the glasses have been washed, and you’re setting them out to dry when the sensation of being watched prickles at the back of your neck. You whip around to find Cloud on the other side of the bar, elbows perched on top of it.
“Do we have a problem?” You ask.
Cloud’s head tilts slightly, expression as neutral as neutral can be. “Seems like it, since you’ve been staring at me all night,” he retorts.
Your cheeks flush hotly, embarrassment creeping up your throat. “I wasn’t staring at you!” It’s a pathetic attempt to protest. You know it. Cloud knows it.
“No? Then what had you so intrigued?” Cloud straightens and crosses his arms.
“Maybe I have a crush on Biggs. He is handsome, y’know.” You round the corner, coming to a stop a few feet in front of Cloud.
Both his brows raise. “He is,” Cloud agrees easily. “I just didn’t think you were a liar. Tifa mentioned you couldn’t keep your eyes off me.”
Damn Tifa.
No point in denying it now. You rest your lower back against the bar, chin lifting in defiance. “And? So what if I was staring at you. Big deal.” The nervous butterflies in your belly are a stark contrast to the bold words.
Cloud hums. Takes a few measured steps towards you. Slowly, he uncrosses his arms. Slowly, he braces a hand on either side of you, using the bar top to hold his weight and cage you in. He dips his head. “Okay fine, you weren’t staring. You were eye fucking me.”
The loud hammering of your heart surely reaches Cloud’s ears. Beating so hard it echoes in your fingertips. “I - I wasn’t—,”
“You were,” Cloud insists. His eyes are so bright up close. Such a pretty blue, tinted mako green. He further erases the space and your hands fly to his chest. Cloud smirks and whispers, “If you wanted to have sex with me, all you had to do was ask.”
“Cloud,” you breathe, fingers fisting his tank top. The air’s become thick and charged between you, and your mind blanks. The word, “Please,” is all that falls from your lips.
Cloud inches closer, nose brushing over yours. His breath is warm against your lips. “I said ask me.”
“Cloud, please, can we have sex?”
“How sweet,” Cloud teases. “Of course we can.” His hands find your hips, thumbs slipping under your shirt to rub at the bone there. The leather of his gloves is smooth. “Jump for me.”
Cloud’s grip tightens as you jump, lifting you with ease to set you on the edge of the bar top. His lithe form fits between your thighs, hands sliding up your waist, fingers dancing over your ribs, and come to rest on either side of your neck.
It’s instinct to curl your fingers around his wrists as his thumbs caress your jaw. He applies a little pressure to tilt your head, eyes darting across your face, and kisses you. Soft and warm, his lips coax yours to move. Meeting once, twice, three times — before you break the kiss. A second passes before you lock lips again.
Cloud sighs through his nose when you lick his lower lip. He places his hands on your upper thighs and opens his mouth. The moment his hot tongue glides across yours is when you start aching to be filled. Your head turns to catch your breath, chest heaving. Cloud latches onto your throat, kissing and sucking and leaving marks because he can.
You fumble with the button on his pants but he snatches your wrists. “Wait,” he says, retreating from your throat to look you in the eye. He steps away, pulling the sword off his back, and rests it out of reach on the bar top. He loses the rest of his gear and his tank top.
“You are so fucking hot,” you whine, already tugging your own shirt free. Your bra goes next. “It’s not fair.”
The corner of Cloud’s mouth ticks up. “Yeah and you make my mouth water.” Cloud keeps his eyes on your tits as he moves in close, biting his lip. He cups them both, squeezing with an appreciative hum, and your head tilts towards the ceiling.
You moan when he pinches a nipple. “Cloud, hurry up,” you urge. Your hands find the button on his pants again and thumb it open.
“Be my guest,” he teases. His fingers lace together behind his head, allowing your hands to run down his stomach, nails scratching at his happy trail, before hooking your fingers in his waistband.
The tip of his cock catches on his briefs as they’re yanked down, bobbing free before hanging hard and heavy. His breath hitches when you take him in hand, stroking teasingly.
You lightly cup his balls and he squirms. “Enough,” he says, batting your hand away.
You show mercy, leaning back and bracing your weight on your hands, toeing off one of your sneakers. Cloud pats your hip and your ass rises, pants and underwear tugged down and left to dangle off one ankle.
One foot gets braced on a nearby bar stool and Cloud hooks your other thigh on his hip, dragging your ass to the edge. “Next time I wanna suck you off,” you say, regretting not getting on your knees first.
The tip of his dick rubs over your clit and a moan gets stuck in your throat.
He chuckles, uses his thumb to angle his cock down, and pushes forward. “Only if I get to taste you — fuck,” he curses as he slides inside. His voice is strained when he murmurs, “Your pussy is mind blowing.”
Your mouth drops open, softly panting at the erotic view of Cloud’s cock vanishing in your pussy. He pulls out, cock already wet and shiny, and pushes in. You squeeze your eyes shut.
“Fuck, Cloud. Faster.”
“Yes, princess.” He quickens the pace, thrusting in short harsh snaps of his hips. Firm hands keep your thighs spread wide. “Play with yourself, wanna watch.”
The pleasure spikes when your fingers circle your clit, consistent and delicious. “Cloud,” you whimper. “M’close!”
“That’s it,” Cloud pants. He clutches your waist, fingers splayed across the lower section of your ribcage. “Wanna see you unravel on my cock.”
It’s an accident when your hand slips further and your fingertips touch Cloud. It’s on purpose when you spread your fingers in a v shape on either side of your pussy, Cloud’s cock brushing against them with each thrust.
Cloud whimpers. You steal a glance at his face and his lips part, brows pinched as his lashes lower, heavy with desire. Your breath stills for a few seconds, lids fluttering shut.
Right as the pleasure starts to overflow Cloud pinches your chin, forces your neck to bend. “Look at me,” he demands.
Your eyes pop open wide. “Cloud,” you breathe, the word choked off as your nails dig into his shoulder. Your thighs shake as you cum.
His eyes close briefly. “Fuck, that’s so hot.” They open again, giving off a neon glow. The tension in your body wanes and Cloud’s dick slips free, twitching towards his bellybutton. He tugs you off the bar top, shoves at your shoulders. You fall to your knees in understanding.
Cloud strokes himself with fervor, bicep flexing as his chest heaves. You stick your tongue out, palms resting on his thighs, and he sucks air in between his teeth. His other hand rests on the back of your head to guide you closer. The tip of Cloud’s cock sits on your tongue as he gives himself a few more quick strokes.
He cums with a harsh exhale.
Most of it lands in your mouth, a little hits your cheek when his dick throbs. You swallow, scrunching your nose at the salty taste. Cloud’s using his tank top to wipe your face clean in a flash.
“Sorry.” His cheeks flush pink as he offers you a hand.
You accept, standing and stretching your arms overhead. You sigh happily, “Worth it.” Cloud glances at your tits.
Getting dressed is a slow affair, savoring the afterglow of good sex. Cloud looks at his balled up tank top, looks at the door, and furrows his brow. He’ll have to walk home shirtless.
“You can stay with me,” you offer, setting a hand on Cloud’s bicep.
He smiles, and it’s softer than any smile you’ve ever seen him wear. It makes him look younger. “Only because you ruined my shirt.”
You laugh, squeezing his bicep. “That was entirely your fault.”
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Tony had been up for a few days now. He wasn’t great at sleeping at the best of times, but since the whole ‘hole-in-the-sky-with-aliens-pouring-out’ debacle, he’d been having nightmares. He was scared to go back to sleep, not that he’d admit that to anyone.
He’d been distracting himself in the lab when he wasn’t actively out being Iron Man or taking meetings with people. Since the Battle for New York, he’d made twenty-three new versions of his Iron Man armor. All the different versions lined the walls of his workshop in different cases.
He was waning though. In the past when he felt like this, he’d head out to a club, pick out someone to take home, and hope the sex would give him an endorphin high that would get him a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. Tonight, he went to the communal kitchen to make himself the strongest coffee he could.
When he stepped into the room he was surprised to find Clint up. “Hey, Legolas,” he said, beelining to the coffee machine. “Can’t sleep?”
Tell me what you want, and let’s make it messy and unforgettable. ❤️🔥 don’t be shy baby text with with your naughty words let’s meet up and make it unforgettable experience 😈💦😋
Eddie stands at the bar, sipping at the whisky in his glass, eyes flickering over the crush of bodies and dark mahogany. He's at a premier party at TIFF, doesn't remember what movie it's for, is supposed to "mingle" according to his agent. And sure, he's charismatic, got a big personality and a loud mouth, but he's not good at networking; resents having to perform when he's not playing a role. Resents it more that he's an Oscar nominated actor, that his work doesn't stand for itself.
And then there's the Steve Harrington of it all. Heartthrob. America's Sweetheart. The boy next door. He's across the room, deep in conversation, but his eyes--they keep finding Eddie, scanning him with unmistakable heat.
They starred in a movie called Dying on the Pass. Played life-long best friends who became elite chefs and opened a restaurant together. The movie follows the dissolution of their friendship as the stresses of pursuing a Michelin Star drive them apart. It was a critical and commercial hit, cue awards noms, and offers pouring in, and--
Steve Harrington is his bed.
They promised, when filming wrapped. They swore it was the last time. They promised--
They basically shared a hotel room during awards season, woke up tangled together every morning.
They spent a torrid weekend in Atlanta after Steve wrapped on a Netflix action movie.
Six months after, they had a quick, furious fuck in the bathroom at a club in London.
Dangerous, stupid, but no one caught them. And here Steve is in Toronto, surrounded by press, staring at Eddie like he wants to eat him.
Eddie tries to ignore it. But every time their eyes meet, warmth pools low in his abdomen, and he wants.
They meet up eventually, pose for a couple of pictures, Eddie trying to ignore the way his skin tingles everywhere that Steve touches. Steve slings an arm around his waist, lets it linger.
After, Eddie goes out for a smoke, the patio blissfully deserted. He's half way through his cigarette when Steve steps out the sliding door, wrapping his hands in Eddie's hair, pulling him into a kiss. The cigarette drops as he grips onto the other man, a whimper slipping from his lips.
He should stop this, they're outside, anyone could see, and Steve isn't out--isn't--he's straight to the entire world, the straightest man alive. And Eddie, he's open about his preferences, identifies as queer, though lately he's been more interested in men--in one man, specifically-- and Steve isn't out, isn't ready to be and--
"Come back to my room?" Steve asks. Their mouths are still pressed together.
"Uh-huh," Eddie answers.
Steve whispers his room number before disappearing back inside. They're in the same hotel, on the same floor, like the universe wants them to keep hooking up. But Steve is being reckless.
Eddie goes to Steve that night with every intention of telling him they need to stop, to slow down, that they're going to get caught and he knows Steve isn't ready, but he doesn't. He doesn't that night and he doesn't two months later when they bump into each other in Venice, or four months after that in New York, or--or --or
It's dangerous, impulsive, too many close calls for them to keep it up and then--and then he's at a house party in the hills, an industry thing, the host is a wannabe big shot producer trying to get in good with the Hollywood elite. Steve is out of town. In Europe filming or maybe Australia for some event or--
Striding through the party, eyes locked on Eddie, and they're in a hallway, in a hallway where anyone could see them, but Steve is kissing him. They're kissing and it's rough and possessive and it stings.
Steve pushes him through double-doors, to the room at their backs, and Eddie wants to protest, to remind him they don't know if it's empty. But Steve is tugging the tie out of Eddie's hair, digging this hands into the now loose curls, and Eddie whines, lets himself be lead.
He's pushed against a table, and in the weak light from the windows, he realizes they're in the dining room. Steve grinds against him, muttering, "missed you so much, baby. God, it's been too long. Need you so bad."
Eddie moans, shifting to press more against Steve. "Missed you too, sweetheart, fuck."
They're kissing and Eddie's high on it, on Steve, can't get enough.
There's a loud burst of laughter outside the door, and reality smashes back into focus.
"Stop," he whispers to Steve.
Steve does in an instant, stepping back. Even in the darkness, Eddie sees the confusion and hurt mingling in the squint of his eyes, his light frown.
"Steve we--this is dangerous. There are people everywhere. Anyone could come in. There's a TMZ guy here, and we--need to be careful."
"Fuck," Steve breathes. "Eddie I--fuck." He presses his hand over his mouth, eyes squeezed shut. "I can't get enough of you, man. Whenever I see you I just--I don't think--I see you and I want you so bad it hurts. Once every few months isn't enough. Hookups aren't enough. And I know that's not what we agreed to, and--"
"Steve," Eddie gently cuts him off. "I'm crazy about you. It hasn't been hookups for me for--" ever, it had never been, but he shakes his head instead of saying that. "But we've been reckless, sweetheart, and I don't want to see you hurt."
"It's not fair to you, though, right? Hiding and sneaking around with me."
"You need time, Steve. You deserve to come out on your terms, when you're ready. And if that means we're not public for a while, then we're not."
"What if I'm never ready?" He whispers. It breaks Eddie's heart, but it's a fair question for a man who got famous as an angelic child star in a series of fantasy-adventure movies before playing a quarterback with a heart-of-gold on the CW for seven seasons. He's always kept up a squeaky clean image, never in trouble, name rarely in the tabloids.
"Then we'll deal with it together."
"Okay," Steve whispers. A smile spreads slow across his face. "I'd like that."
--
Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are seen around town together often. Getting lunch, at parties, shopping. In an interview Steve says that Eddie's his best friend, they do everything together. There's speculation online, of course, but it's pretty quiet. So, they go to premiers and award shows and events together.
A year goes by and it's easy, light, fun. They're in love.
Eddie's messing around on his guitar, not with any intent just for the joy of it. He's on the loveseat in the office of their apartment--their apartment. Steve is in the kitchen, he thinks, or puttering in the garden.
They haven't talked about Steve coming out; haven't needed to.
"Hey," Steve says from the doorway. Eddie jumps.
"Hey yourself."
"It's Bi Visibility day."
"Is it now?" He's not sure where this is going
"I want to come out."
He puts the guitar down. "You sure?"
Steve nods. He doesn't seem nervous, just calm and steady.
"How do you want to do it?"
He crosses the room, climbing onto Eddie's lap, making Eddie laugh. "Works for me." Eddie gives Steve's ass a playful squeeze.
They start kissing then, Steve snapping pics on his phone randomly as they make out.
Steve won't let Eddie peak as he crafts his Insta post, not until it's done and live for his 15 million followers.
The picture he picked, it's a soft kiss, mouths open but lips only just brushing, noses pressed together in a sweet little bump. But the thing about, the thing that makes Eddie's stomach swoop, is the way they're both smiling, the way it's obvious just how in love they are.
Steve's captioned it with the words "Witness Me" and the bi flag.
He pulls his boy into another kiss, says, "Hey,"
"Hmm?" Steve doesn't pull away.
"Wanna go be visibly bisexual with me in the bedroom?"
Steve hops off his lap, strides across the room, turning to flash Eddie a devious smile. "Thought you'd never ask."
Friends, if you ever think about looking at porn or checking out other women and girls, this is what’s happening behind the scenes. Those poor girls and women are more than just bodies. Matthew 5:28. Also, check my older posts or see below on how to combat lust! Let me know if you need anything! God loves you and I love you! God bless!
This is coming from a formerly bi person (19 M when I write this)
How to combat lust: Triggers
“Trace it, face it, erase it, replace it.”
TRACE the triggers, FACE it with God’s help (you can’t do it on your own. Trust me), ERASE all triggers, and REPLACE it (put a different activity in its place. Remember how the house was cleaned, but then seven more demons showed up and trashed the place? Luke 11:26)
The fact that you’re trying is good. After all, “For the righteous man falls seven times and rises again.” (Prov 24:16)
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled.” Matthew 5:6
“Where is God when I need Him?”
How temptation really works
Make sure to cleanse your mind. Don’t think about certain things, don’t check out girls (Or check out guys, if you’re a girl). Keep your eyes on their faces. Even then, just straight up don’t look at them if it’s possible.
Watch out for the music you listen to (dirty words. That is a trigger. Trust me. I know.)
Try some ACTUALLY GOOD Christian music (see below)
Check these out for
Metal: some skillet, theocracy, divinefire, golden resurrection, REFORMED
Rock: dcTalk, red, skillet, ashes remain, old Tobymac, Kevin max (from dcTalk), thousand foot krutch, jars of clay, switchfoot
Also, watch out for The shows, memes, etc. you watch. Those are triggers as well. (Dirty jokes and whatnot)
Get the correct amount of sleep. Your hormones will be thrown off.
Don’t look at men or women in a certain way.
In the words of Stan Lee, “that man sitting next to you, that’s your brother. That woman sitting over there-that’s your sister.”
Besides, some of those people are taken. How would you like it if someone gave your boyfriend/husband or girlfriend/wife a certain look?
Also, the people you see in those videos are people who are being trafficked and rap3d. It’s NOT what you think it is. Imagine if that happened to your girlfriend, wife, sister, friend, mother, grandmother, aunt, etc. them begging for their life inside while ACTING as if it’s okay? They’re called “ACTORS” for a reason.
My friend, don’t do this. These men and women are just trying to get by. They don’t need anyone looking at them in a certain way. They just want to be loved, Not lusted after. Not looked at and used like a s3x toy and put away when not needed. They might be low on money, they could have been traumatized, they could be su!cidal, they could be selling their bodies unwillingly so they can get cash. Please. You don’t know what theyre going through.
protect and look after everyone as if they were your children. Care for them as you would your own spouse or closest/only friend. Love and look at them as if you had one hour left to be with them.
Ayo, i don’t mean to force anything on anyone, but we have various types of evidence for biblical events, if anyone is interested. I also found ways to combat lust, if anyone is interested. (I’m talking archaeological evidence, miracles caught live, arguments against evolution, divine revelation, science, cosmology, fulfilled prophecy, evidence for the Bible outside of the Bible, God’s work in people’s lives, etc.)
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in an alternate timeline, elliot hooked up w sunspire/cirus and that's why he's so shocked abt him being married to robert /silly/j
Elliot wasn't getting what he wanted from Robbie for a while and went to a bar. Cirus was fresh out of a fight and looking to unwind. He wasn't in his flame form, and so Elliot didn't recognize him, though Cirus for sure knew who he was. He took pleasure in the fact that he was fucking Mecha Man's usual hookup.
Years down the line, when Cirus is happily married to Robert and Elliot comes knocking for information and the pulse, he is shaken to the core to see his son hooking up with the same man he fucked when Robbie was being a dick.
