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here’s another snippet, in which you can totally tell I’ve been reading a lot of Stucky fic, but I can’t put my finger on who this is *totally* ripping off, at least in tone. Which is how it goes for me; I absorb things and then totally bite those things’s style but can’t remember where I got them so people either think I’m a tool or misattribute genius to me, and I am vaguely guilty but not enough to take better notes.
Again, this isn’t part of any of my big WIPs, it’s a bit floating around in my Giant Scrivener Doc O’ Fanfic, and it is Bucky/Steve immediately post-coitus. It’s part of something bigger but may or may not ever get finished, and some of the bits of this may not actually become my personal canon but I think I’m hilarious, and I wrote it today when I was supposed to be writing something else. LOLOLOL right? That’s actually my life.
So tell me who this sounds like, it’s driving me nuts. I totally absorbed someone else’s style.
“If you’re gonna put on a good show it better last longer than that,” Bucky said, right in his ear.
“I will punch you,” Steve said.
“What, right in the afterglow?” Bucky bit his ear.
“You dick,” Steve said. He was even still out of breath.
“My dick is down here,” Bucky said. “I mean, it’s not gonna do you much good right now but gimme a minute, if you need more practice.”
“I don’t,” Steve said, and rolled them both over. “Get off me.”
“I just want to cuddle,” Bucky complained. “God! People nowadays, nobody wants to be held after sex, they gotta go update their Instagrams.”
Steve rested his forehead against Bucky’s. “I’m not the one who Tweets every time he comes,” he said.
“Oh,” Bucky said, “that, that’s an app I installed. Interfaces with the heart rate monitor in the one molar.”
“It tweets the word booyah every time you orgasm,” Steve said.
Bucky laughed. “Sometimes it gets it wrong though,” he said. “Sometimes I’m just working out. Or having a panic attack. You can check, see if it got it right just now.”
“I don’t know why I keep you,” Steve said.
“Aw,” Bucky said, and freed a hand from his encircling arms to reach up and pull his face down, and kiss him sweetly. “I make it worth your while sometimes. C’mon.”
“Fuck,” Steve said, resigned, “you do.”
(dw/lj-exclusive edit: I LOVE WHAT THIS DOES TO THE TAG ART, man am I incoherent or what?)
here’s another snippet, in which you can totally tell I’ve been reading a lot of Stucky fic, but I can’t put my finger on who this is *totally* ripping off, at least in tone. Which is how it goes for me; I absorb things and then totally bite those things’s style but can’t remember where I got them so people either think I’m a tool or misattribute genius to me, and I am vaguely guilty but not enough to take better notes.
Again, this isn’t part of any of my big WIPs, it’s a bit floating around in my Giant Scrivener Doc O’ Fanfic, and it is Bucky/Steve immediately post-coitus. It’s part of something bigger but may or may not ever get finished, and some of the bits of this may not actually become my personal canon but I think I’m hilarious, and I wrote it today when I was supposed to be writing something else. LOLOLOL right? That’s actually my life.
So tell me who this sounds like, it’s driving me nuts. I totally absorbed someone else’s style.
“If you’re gonna put on a good show it better last longer than that,” Bucky said, right in his ear.
“I will punch you,” Steve said.
“What, right in the afterglow?” Bucky bit his ear.
“You dick,” Steve said. He was even still out of breath.
“My dick is down here,” Bucky said. “I mean, it’s not gonna do you much good right now but gimme a minute, if you need more practice.”
“I don’t,” Steve said, and rolled them both over. “Get off me.”
“I just want to cuddle,” Bucky complained. “God! People nowadays, nobody wants to be held after sex, they gotta go update their Instagrams.”
Steve rested his forehead against Bucky’s. “I’m not the one who Tweets every time he comes,” he said.
“Oh,” Bucky said, “that, that’s an app I installed. Interfaces with the heart rate monitor in the one molar.”
“It tweets the word booyah every time you orgasm,” Steve said.
Bucky laughed. “Sometimes it gets it wrong though,” he said. “Sometimes I’m just working out. Or having a panic attack. You can check, see if it got it right just now.”
“I don’t know why I keep you,” Steve said.
“Aw,” Bucky said, and freed a hand from his encircling arms to reach up and pull his face down, and kiss him sweetly. “I make it worth your while sometimes. C’mon.”
“Fuck,” Steve said, resigned, “you do.”
(dw/lj-exclusive edit: I LOVE WHAT THIS DOES TO THE TAG ART, man am I incoherent or what?)
