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stop the world (i wanna get off with you)

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“Nate— slow down, you’re gonna fucking break her.”

“Nah,” Nate mutters, breath steaming out hot and fast, contributing to the mounting warmth of the stifling, windowless bedroom. The girl trembles in his lap, weight leaned back against the headboard and hips held down by Nate’s hands, calloused and scarred against the softness of her skin—

Wade swallows.

“She can take it,” Nate murmurs, and wade watches him cup her cheek, stroke sweat-damp hair away from those pretty eyes of hers, “right, kid?”

“Yeah,” she moans, canting her hips up a little to urge him on, “yeah, I can take it.”

Nate smiles at that, a crooked, jagged smile, and when he leans forward to kiss her, Wade gets a particularly nice view of Nate’s cock, pushed not even a quarter of the way into her— He’s huge, he knows this personally, but she’s so fucking small in comparison that his dick just looks all that much bigger, looks like if she were gonna take the whole thing it’d fucking break her in half—

What’re you waiting for?” she gasps, lips red and spit-slick. Nate pulls away and chuckles— the sound is slow, languid, pools in his chest like molasses.

“Somebody’s impatient,” Wade comments, moving closer. He reaches out to run his fingers up and down the girl’s ribs, and while it’s meant to be a soothing gesture all it does is make her more needy.

Nate rocks his hips up and she moans, fingers working at the sheets she has clutched in her fists.

“A lot, yeah?” Wade can hear nate whisper, mouth low to her ear and stubble scraping across her sensitive skin, making her shiver.

“‘It’s— big,” she whispers, eyes scrunching shut, “‘s too big, nate.”

“Yeah, that’s what I like to hear,” the older man chuckles, and Wade runs his hands though her messy hair as she trembles beneath him.

“Look at you, baby,” Wade says, palming the bulge of his own cock, achingly fucking hard through his jeans, “look so fuckin’ hot like this.”

“Wade—“

Her eyes wander over to him, and he gets his first real look at the girl, pupils blown out all wide and dark and skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, a dark red flush creeping up the side of her neck—

Nate rocks another few inches into her and her mouth falls open, head tipping backwards.

“Eyes on me,” he says gruffly, yanking her up into a heady, demanding kiss. His tongue drags across her bottom lip, the girl’s mouth parting for him around a soft, desperate moan.

“‘m sorry,” she whispers against Nate’s commanding, nearly devouring mouth, “sorry, sorry— ah.”

“Yeah,” nate mutters, “focus on me. I’m fuckin’ you. Not him. Don’t you look away from me, understand? i wanna see that pretty face, baby.”

She doesn’t answer— can’t answer— because Nate’s pushing up against her hips, slowly fucking into her, back-and-forth, watching transfixed as his cock sinks into her and splits her open, and it takes all the kid’s energy just to lie back and take it until he’s all the way in to the hilt.

“Oh, look at that,” he whispers, not quite able to hide the way his voice gives out at the end of the sentence, “there we go. How’s that feel, kid?”

Her hands are shaking where he’s clinging to Nate’s arms, nails digging into his biceps in what Wade assumes is an attempt to anchor herself, breaths coming shallow and fast against nate’s neck, and she looks— fucking delicious, shit, all fucked-open, needy and desperate and debauched.

Wade unzips his pants, shoves them down to his knees so that he can touch himself properly.

“Full,” she mumbles, “‘m so— ah—so full, fuck—”

“Yeah,” nate growls, “oh, yeah, sweetheart.”

His first real thrust is shallow but still makes her fucking sob in what Wade thinks must be an overwhelming mixture of sensations, but Nate’s good to her— ‘course he is—pulls the kid up all the way into his lap and rubs one hand up and down her back, whispering soft and senseless platitudes against her mouth as he starts to fuck her—

“Nate,” she whines, burying her nose in the older man’s neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses against his skin.

“Can you feel him, baby?” Wade whispers, moving his hand down over his own dick, achingly fucking hard—

“Yeah,” she says— says brokenly— eyes locking on to Wade over Nate’s shoulder. “Wade. Wade— feels so good.”

“That’s good, sweetheart,” wade replies, stroking his cock slowly, in time with Nate as he fucks her until she’s fucking delirious with it. “You gonna thank Nate for fucking you all nice like that?”

That draws her foggy, fading attention back to the man holding him, and Wade grins at the way Nate groans, seeing her with wide eyes biting her lip and staring up at him—

Ah— oh, fuck— thank you ,” the girl stutters, but wade clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

“Not quite,” he rasps. “Missing something, dontcha think?”

She swallows. Trembles. Her lips are rosy and red-raw and when she opens her mouth again, Wade grins, anticipation simmering deep in his abdomen—

“Thank you, Daddy.”

Nate freezes. Tenses up. Moans, long and low and deliciously wrecked .

“Jesus christ, kid,” he mutters, digging his fingers into the girl’s hips, “Did Wade put you up to this?”

Wade chuckles— the movement of his hand up and down the length of his dick is faster, now, more certain. “Yeah. Nice touch, huh? Thought you’d like it.”

Fuck you,” nate grits out, but there’s no venom in it. Wade’s not stupid, knows what he likes, knows how to push his buttons and get under his skin.

It’s immensely satisfying.

Nate rocks into her and she moans, cups his face and drags him into a kiss like she’s hungry for it, like she needs to feel the way he claims her, the slow deliberate slide of his tongue across her teeth and through her mouth—

“Tell me,” nate whispers, “just— fuck, say it again, kid, c’mon—“

“Daddy,” she mumbles, mouth open and waiting, “Daddy, please.”

“Fuck,” nate groans, and crushes the kid to his chest, one large hand on the back of his head, stroking through his hair. “That’s my girl. You’re so fuckin’ good to me, baby, Daddy’s perfect girl. Fuck.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” wade mumbles, hand tightening around the base of his dick. “Look at you go. Holy shit.”

Nate doesn’t respond, probably (definitely) not focusing on Wade as he holds the girl, holds her tight, rocking into her with his nose pressed into her hair. Wade can hear her moans, hear her sighing into it with every slow thrust,

hands pressed flat against Nate’s warm, sweat-slick chest as he cradles her close, whispers praise, soft and sweet—

And it’s fucking hot, Wade thinks lazily, hand moving up and down his own cock in short, quick bursts, watching Nate’s body dwarf her smaller frame. the heat of it, he thinks, hand tightening around his dick, must be suffocating. Nate’s presence is all-consuming, she can feel it in her fucking soul, to the point where nothing exists outside of the four walls of the bedroom, nothing’s real beyond Nate’s warmth and Nate’s body and Nate’s cock , fucking her, slow and sure and deep.

Daddy,” she whispers, grinding down against Nate’s pelvis as he fucks her, desperate for that last little bit of stimulation.

“Daddy, please.”

“Nate, think she needs something from you,” Wade comments offhandedly, getting up to kick off his pants and sit down next to them, leaned back against the headboard.

“Anything,” Nate whispers, eyes never leaving the girl in his lap. “Anything, baby, anything you want.”

“You want to come, don’t you?” Wade whispers, moving closer to her, until she’s leaned back against his chest, trapped between the bodies of him and Nate. Wade’s cock rubs up against her lower back, and she trembles, moans, rocking back against it and then forward into Nate’s waiting arms—

“Say it,” Wade orders, voice gravelly and low, pressing his mouth against the shell of her ear. “Tell him what you want, baby. It’s okay, c’mon.”

“Wanna come, Daddy,” she whispers, and Nate grits his teeth, looking for all the world like he’s trying to stop himself from just fucking her until she’s crying out and shaking and overstimulated, using his girl till she cums all over his cock—

“Daddy’s got you, sweetheart,” he whispers, moving a hand down in between their bodies; it only takes one, maybe two quick strokes for the girl to cry out, rutting her hips into Nate’s hand, clenching around the cock inside of her as she cums, hard enough that it must be almost painful, hard enough that she chokes out a string of curses and a senseless moan that might’ve been Nate or wade or maybe both.

Nate doesn’t stop touching her. Not even when she’s hypersensitive and leaning back into Wade’s chest, away from his fingers— no, he keeps going, until he can pry another orgasm from her, this one sharper and stronger than the last, accompanied by a keening wail and a gasp of please daddy i can’t i can’t it’s too much feels too good—

And nate’s so fucking gentle about it, rocks into her and makes soft shushing noises as he fucks her through the tremors until she stills and gives in to the sensation, universe narrowing down to a needle-point where their bodies are connected.

When he pulls out and lets her fall back into Wade’s waiting arms, Wade almost wants to tell him no, keep going, you can get another one out of her—

But he doesn’t.

There’s more to come, anyway.

Nate doesn’t move away from her, and his fucking huge dick lies against her stomach, flushed red and hard and pulsing with his heartbeat.

“Hurry the fuck up, Wade,” he growls, like it’s taking all of his willpower to keep himself from just going back to fucking her.

“‘Course,” Wade says, flashing Nate a lascivious smile and pulling her back to him. He slicks up the fingers of one hand with the half-empty bottle of lube on the bedside table, and when he rubs over the girl’s ass, she whines, rocking back against the pressure—

One finger is easy enough. She’s tight, but they’ve done this before, and it’s not hard to work her open with his fingers, even as fucked-out as she is.

She’s good. She’s always good for him, Wade thinks, kissing the back of her neck.

He works another finger in and she whines, muscles tensing just enough to make Wade stop, despite her protests of i’m fine, promise, keep going—

When she stills, Wade continues; works her open slowly, gently, making sure to have the girl moan just enough to catch Nate’s attention. He’s watching her with a terrifying sort of fixation, a predatory stare, eyes gone all dark and the brown of his irises nearly eclipsed by his pupils, blown out with want.

“Hold on,” Wade murmurs, lifting her hips with a glint in his eye, the shiver in his voice betraying his own excitement— “hold on to Nate, baby.”

He slicks up his cock, moving with quick, calculated jerks, lube dripping through his fingers and staining the bed sheets, though he can’t bring himself to care. When he presses up into her, she whines, nails digging into Nate’s forearms, and Wade can hear the older man’s voice, soft and gravelly and burnt-sugar sweet—

“That’s good, kid,” he whispers, stroking her cheek with his fingers, “There you go. There you go, sweetheart.”

Wade’s hands are steady and firm on her hips, working her slowly down, and fuck yes, he thinks hazily, that’s it—

“Feeling all right?” Wade manages to say, choking out a soft, breathless moan when her muscles clench down around him. He can barely speak, fuck, and the words come out slurred and heavy with lust.

“Yeah— yeah,” she whispers, leaning back into Wade’s chest; the shift changes the angle of his cock inside of her and she moans, trembling in wade’s arms. Her head lolls back onto his shoulder, the muscles in her neck gone all lax, and when Wade fucks up into her, her mouth falls open silently, breath catching somewhere in the back of her throat.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” Nate growls, dark eyes boring into Wade’s, “both of you.”

Wade groans, fingers digging into the girl’s open thighs as he fucks her. “C’mon, Nate. You just gonna leave her waiting?”

Nate grins down at him, the look dark and predatory, and Wade finds his eyes traveling down the muscular expanse of his chest to where he’s got his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking slowly. He licks his lips, watches the slow slick slide of his fingers up the length of his dick—

“You’re a tease, you know,” he manages, voice raspy. Fuck, he’s hard. This— all of it— it’s almost too much, even for him. Like some sort of fantastic fucking fever dream. The girl in his lap moans and trembles as Nate moves closer, lets out this fretful little whine when his cock presses against her and there’s a moment before Nate pushes in, a pause, heavy and expectant—

“Oh, fuck,” Nate says, words cutting out into a helpless groan, “ fuck, that’s— that’s tight . You okay, baby?”

She doesn’t respond for a long time and Wade would be worried if not for the way Nate’s looking at her, stroking her hair back with a self-satisfied twitch of his lips, knowing she’s too fucking far gone for words at this point—

“Wade,” she chokes out, followed by, “ nate, oh— oh, fuck.”

And it’s—

It’s a lot , it’s hot and tight and he’s trying to remember how to breathe, struggling to form words or even recognize his own name as it tumbles, choppy and desperate, from the girl’s lips.

It’s Nate that anchors them.

(Of course it is.)

His voice, ragged and deep, cuts through the heady, sweat-soaked haze of the room like the serrated edge of a knife, and Wade latches onto it, digging his fingers just gently into the kid’s hips.

“You’re so good for us, sweetheart,” nate’s muttering, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he starts to move, shallow thrusts that have her trembling, strung-out and overstimulated and basically putty in his hands. They’re so close that Wade can hardly differentiate between their bodies, where one ends and the other begins and honestly, he’s okay with that.

“Shit,” Wade whispers, rocking up to meet her, listening to her keening moan as she clenches down around Wade’s cock, “i can— i can feel you, Nate.”

“Yeah,” he replies, voice catching, “yeah, me too.”

“Fuck,” the girl whines, burying her face into Nate’s shoulder. “C’mon. Want you to— to fuck me already. Really fuck me. Please?”

Wade lifts her hips far enough to pull out and push back into her in one steady thrust that has her gasping. “Yeah? Sure you can— ah— handle it?”

“I don’t give a fuck if she can or not,” Nate growls, tone dark as  impatience gets the best of him. “She fuckin’ asked for it, Wade.”

And oh, shit, he thinks, trembling a little at the rough caliber of his voice, the friction he can feel as Nate thrusts into her, a little harder now, a little faster, until he’s fucking her properly and Wade’s just sort of along for the ride, it’s all he can do to just lie there and hold her thighs open like that.

Move, Wade,” Nate growls; it’s an order and he, for once, listens to him without arguing.

Wade’s first thrust alongside Nate’s relentlessness forces a choked off desperate keen from the girl’s lips and her muscles go all tense, lit-up like a live wire.

“Ohgod fuck,” s he gasps, words all slurred-together as one, reaching down and finding Wade’s hand on her hip and squeezing, hard. Wade’s vision isn’t great—takes too much energy to focus his eyes, too much thought— but he can still make out the crooked, self-satisfied slant of Nate’s grin in the darkness. When the older man yanks him in for a kiss over the girl’s shoulder he just lets go, surrenders to the heat and the pressure and the primal, instinctive desire that keeps his hips rocking back and forth, even when he’s pretty sure he’s not even consciously aware of the movement.

The girl is moaning against the crook of Nate’s neck as Nate’s tongue sweeps posessively through his mouth, and it’s a feeling Wade’s pretty sure he could get drunk off of. She tightens around them both and Wade pulls away to release a desperate moan that transforms into a laugh and a soft, teasing murmur of don’t worry, baby, nobody’s forgotten about you.

Nate grunts out a series of meaningless swears, voice guttural and shot-through and thick with arousal and Wade knows he’s close, can feel it himself as if the two men are one and the same. He’s fucking the girl hard enough now that Wade can feel it, digging bruises the shape of his hands into her hips, and it’s so much, too much, he can’t even fucking keep up.

Wade lets his weight fall back against the headboard, focusing hard on the pressure-bordering-on-pain of his spine against the hard wooden frame, letting it anchor him to reality as he reaches a hand up and around to touch her, fingers stroking deftly over her clit. Her answering moan is immediate, is shattered, she rocks into his hand and down against his cock and into Nate and for a split second, everything is perfect. Nothing exists outside of that room, outside of the pressing heat and the humidity and the sweat-slick slide of skin against skin and it’s just her and him and Nate, just them, nobody else, the words repeating over and over until it’s just one collection of senseless syllables--

Wade cums first. It hits him like a fucking bullet, comes out of nowhere, makes his muscles tense up and his back arch and forces a crushed, helpless groan out from the back of his throat as he presses his mouth to the girl’s neck, digging his fingers into her skin hard enough to leave bruises. It’s her after that, the tensing of her around the both of them so fucking good it’s almost painful, dragging Nate over the edge with a mumbled curse and one, two, three more thrusts, erratic and almost violent--

Fuck.

Wade opens his eyes just in time to see Nate collapse against her. Watches the sudden vulnerability of him, painfully aware and present in the pulsing tremors of the afterglow, watches him kiss her— her mouth, her cheeks, her eyelids. Feels sort of like he’s watching something private, until Nate’s hand brushes over his own and has him remembering his own place in all of this.

They’re together. All of them.

He sleeps between them, after. Nate’s breathing is rough and loud and surprisingly comforting, and the smell of the girl’s hair is familiar— like sunlight and like home, even though Wade knows that’s silly. They’re always like that. Always together. It’s natural, like this, limbs in disarray on the bed, hands and fingers and arms locked with each other. Touching. Brushing. He couldn’t tell whose hand is whose, who’s leg is tangled with his own, not in the quiet darkness.

He doesn’t need to.