hey sorry if I'm breaking all etiquette that's ever existed in the history of etiquette but I feel like you would have some pretty nasty (pos) AO3 bookmarks if public..... also maxiel so I'd be ecstatic if u shared ur username..... but if not then ignore me and I will repent
dw anon u r not breaking any etiquette to me. we gotta let loose those freak flags amiright š
my ao3 is corrosive_saints i do have some oscarmark & maxiel fics bookmarked š f1 is a more recent interest but i do love me some premium grade freaks!!!
personally my favorite thing about oscar and mark being attached to the hip when oscar clocks out of f1 is that it makes the theory that zak brown doesn't like oscar's old guard dog who bites before he barks and may or may not have rabies and has been trained to piss on zak's shoes and if he saw him in his garage one more time he was going to put him down cujo style even more believable and i think that's very neat
I have this hc that mark likes kissing and bitting oscarās cheeks and the first time it happened mark was drunk off his stupid red wine after a nice dinner together and like he knew what he was doing he was fully conscious but he had just had enough wine to lower his inhibitions and he just went for it. oscar was on the couch watching the cricket highlights while also scrolling down his phone and just the angle and the dim light made him look so cute and his cheeks were so plump and mark, tipsy off the wine, on his way back to the living room after filling up his glass again, walks behind the couch grabs oscarās face with one hand, presses his fingers into oscarās cheeks and coos āawww you are so cuteā and then lets go of oscarās jaw and leans down to bite oscarās cheek, not hard, just softly with his front teeth giving small fast consecutive bites, leaving a bit of spit on oscarās cheek as mark lets go and makes an exaggerated mwah sound and all oscar does is wiggle around and says in a whiny voice āmaaaarkkkkk stopppā the way a son whines when his mom does the exact same thing mark just did. and they continue with their evening as if nothing happened
oscar/mark, inspired by whatever the fuck is going on at the isle of man
warnings: age gap nastiness, infidelity, i mean if you're clicking on this ur clicking on this. basically a rewrite of the chatfic of me and @yekoc who inspires all good things
Oscar is pink all over.Ā
Bright shock of ear poking out of his messy hair. Pink handprints on his ass. Pimples across his shoulders.Ā
Mark lets himself reach out. He doesn't touch the cum smeared across Oscarās ass, interrupting the bright magenta splotches. They'll fade by tomorrow. Oscar is easy to mark, hard to bruise.Ā
Instead, he lets his thumb sweep against Oscar's lower back. Oscar stays perfectly still, his breath controlled. He's not asleep yet, no little wheeze every few breaths. Mark presses just a bit harder, to the place he saw Oscar rubbing as they stood in line for beers, where he knows he aches after being folded in half for too long.Ā
There. A shiver, not caught in time. He digs in just a hair harder and hears the rustle of sheets as Oscar tenses and relaxes. āYeah?ā Mark asks, as he rubs a circle with his thumb.Ā
Oscar arches his back into Markās hand and mumbles something into the pillow. Some awful part of Mark wants to fist his hand in Oscar's hair, pull him off the pillow, make him repeat it so Mark doesn't miss a thing while they share this rented bed.Ā
Instead, Mark takes his other hand to the other side of Oscarās bony spine and massages as hard as Oscar needs. The pillow can't cover Oscarās āFuck,ā this time, his hand tensing in the sheets. It's sick, the adrenaline Mark feels from getting a rise from a 25-year-old, keeping him from the obliteration of sleep just a bit longer.Ā
Just a massage, Mark tells himself. He lets Oscar stay face down, wet breaths in the pillow. His hands range up to the pimples along his shoulder blade, down his skinny little ass to his hamstrings. Oscar gets looser and louder, his huffs of breath and the way he presses back into Markās hand. His hole is pinkest of all, and Markās trying so hard to avoid it, to give it a well-deserved rest. His hand is bigger than Oscarās whole cheek when he touches, thumbs in the dimples on his low back, first finger reaching to the barely-there curve to his soft pale thigh. āJesus fuck, Mark,ā Oscar says, pushing himself up raggedly from the pillow, and all of Markās restraint flies out of the window. Itās either hands or mouth, so Mark swallows a few times, spits, and only lets himself luxuriate in Oscarās shocked little āOhā for a second before his finger is pressing back inside.Ā
Oscar writhes on the first finger, always acting like itās his first time even when the evidence of last time is still sticky on his skin. Mark is endlessly fascinated by his hole: tight but giving, always capable of more than Mark thinks. Itās not long before Markās knocked over the lube and possibly squirted it across the lamp in his quest to open it one-handed, unwilling to take the other hand out of Oscar.
With two fingers in, after, Oscarās usually well on his way to wrung-out. But instead he keeps getting tenser, rocking back and forth on Markās hand, pulling one corner of the sheet off entirely. āFuck, Mark,ā he says, his thick neck the only thing holding his face up. āDeeper, come on, more.ā
Is that how your girlfriend begs? Mark wonders. Does she even have to ask, or are you so eager that you slide right in, pump a few times and then pass out. Is she satisfied, after? Mark pictures Oscarās mouth, pink and shiny, between her perfectly hairless thighs, and presses against Oscarās prostrate meanly. Oscar drops back into the pillow, gasps near hysterically, but it doesnāt stop him from chanting āMore, cāmon, more, please.āĀ
Itās the please that gets Mark. A third finger pushes in like butter, but Oscarās still tense, his back arched towards Mark, and Mark has a flash of sliding in past his knuckles, impossibly thick in Oscarās little body. Like a man possessed, Mark realizes that his dick is hard again. Twice in one night ā Mark is a fucking medical miracle, or Oscar should be bottled and sold in pill form.
He pulls his hand out to slick his dick up, giving himself a few pumps. Oscar looks over his shoulder in response to the sudden emptiness. The sight of his face, after so long studying his back, is a gut punch. His eyes are shiny, his chapped lips bitten red, tongue visible between his teeth. Theyāre still looking at each other as Mark pushes in.
Thereās a swirl of relief as he bottoms out. Oscar, finally, goes boneless and limp, laying his cheek back down on the pillow, closing his too-bright eyes. Mark's dick is along for the ride, a traitor to Markās brain, ready to satiate the insatiable. Oscarās moans are long and drawn-out, now, not panicky and desperate like before. Mark wants to bite and suck, leave an obvious hickey over the muscle of his neck that will linger for a week. Disgusting, juvenile, pathetic.
He licks behind Oscarās ear instead, tasting sweat, feeling the bump of a blemish. His knees are aching, sliding against the sheets and Oscarās sweaty thighs. He slides one thigh back up Oscarās body, undoing all the work of the massage, but Oscar just sighs in relief, clumsily finding the crook of his knee with his hand, pulling it closer to his chest. With the extra room Mark settles in to rock in and out of Oscarās body, little circles like the lapping of the waves on a windless day. He could float like this forever.Ā
Oscar tightens around him, slowly and then all at once, and Mark realizes heās about to come again. He slides his hand around to feel him still tacky from the first round, then the helpless spurt of come into Markās hand when Markās fingers cup his balls, massage his taint. He keeps his hand there, gently enough that Oscar doesnāt do anything but moan in a higher pitch, as every impossible moment stretches out like bubblegum about to burst.Ā