Fic: Hard Pressed to find a Reason (Weevil/Logan/Veronica) NC-17
Title: Hard Pressed to find a Reason
Author: synful_trixx
Pairing: Weevil/Logan/Veronica
Spoilers: Up to 2x12… sort of.
Summary: Veronica makes her way to THE Suite… and finds something she didn’t know she was looking for.
Disclaimer: I own nothing… seriously, you won’t get anything if you sue. Rob Thomas owns all.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 937
Author’s Note: Okay… so I’m totally warning you… I hurt my back today, and they gave me medication to deal with the pain. That being said, I was totally stoned when I wrote this… and I’ll probably regret posting it when I’m clear headed again. But I totally blame it on kyrieane as she’s my beta, my muse… and very drunk on wine at the moment. Lesson One. A drunk person + a stoned person = Cracked out Perversion fic.
She's not sure why she made her way out into the night. The darkened streets beckoning with slender fingers; leading her onward towards an unknown destination.
She was in the elevator before she knew it, heading up towards the suite. The suite; the place where so many good and bad things had happened to her in such a short period of time.
She still had the key card from all the long nights she'd spent beside Duncan. Letting herself into the darkened hotel room in the dead of night, curling up beside him. Imagining, pretending to live in a perfect world, with her perfect boyfriend.
He wasn't so much a perfect boyfriend anymore. More like a memory from years gone past, long gone, and better left where he belonged. In the past.
The elevator dinged, signaling the floor. She stood indecisively for moments before taking a deep calming breath and moving out into the hall. She stood at the door, finally pressing her ear to the cold wood, listening for sounds of life from within.
She heard the soft grunts, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh and hurriedly used her keycard to open the door, swinging it wide while bringing her taser out of her purse in one fluid motion. Lately, it wasn't very far from her hand.
She froze on the threshold as she took in the scene before her. Bottles littered the floor, left over take-out cartons on the coffee table, the couch was overturned, clothing haphazardly strewn throughout the room.
The two men entwined on the floor, kissing frantically, fingers pulling tugging and gripping, each fighting for control. They made a beautiful picture. Weevil's tanned skin sliding smoothly against Logan’s paler frame, slick with sweat, and other bodily fluids Veronica's mind was refusing to take in at the moment.
Weevil’s smaller frame finally settled on top, their hard cocks sliding against each other, as they both thrust their hips, totally oblivious to their audience. They clawed, drawing blood and gasps from the other. The need so thick and strong in the air, their skin peppered with bruises in varying states of healing. Tanned skin, light colored skin, shades of black, purple, blue and green, a Technicolor pornographic show.
Veronica must have made some noise, a small gasping of air escaping her throat, her mouth hanging open as both their heads snapped in her direction. The two froze for a moment, taking in her appearance, before turning back to each other, neither seeming to care that she was ogling their activities.
She moved closer, letting her messenger bag drop to the floor with a loud thunk, her coat soon following as she drew closer still. Her eyes widening more as Logan's hand reached out for her.
She was drawn into them, still fully clothed, tangled around them, naked flesh to the rough denim of her jeans, the soft fabric of her t-shirt. They moved sinuously against her, wanting friction.
Her teeth nipped at the soft skin of Weevil’s throat, causing him to arch, hiss, and moan at the sharp pain. One of his hands coming around to tangle in her hair, pulling her in for a rough kiss, his other still buried in Logan’s.
Weevil broke the kiss first, pressing his face to Logan's neck as Veronica turned her head, searching for Logan's lips.
Their kisses were volatile, teeth nipping, scraping, bruising. Trying to devour, eat their way into feeling something. Overcome with something darker.
Her clothing disappeared, and now slick between them they moved in tandem, striving, wanting, needing, her head arched backwards onto Logan's shoulder as they kissed beside her face, lost in each other as their hands continued to caress her, touch her, bruise her pale skin.
Smooth latex was fitting over their cocks, eyes slitted as they silently communicated. Veronica gasped as Logan slid smoothly inside, harsh, deep, thrusting with all his strength, before sliding out and Weevil slid in. They worked in tandem, Logan thrusting harshly, brutally inside her, while Weevil thrust slow and gentle.
They gave her no time to catch onto the rhythm; they worked together, fucking each other using her body. Differing their styles until she was lost in the sensations, losing her mind slowly with each cock buried to the hilt inside her.
Logan nodded once at Weevil, before they both slowed their pace to an agonizing crawl, till she was mewling like an eager kitten in their arms.
They sped their pace little by little, increasing until she was thrashing between them, striving for something, anything more. She thrust back and forth between them, wanting it all.
Weevil closed his eyes, and pulled out, his cock stabbing forward at her ass as they all froze. He'd slid smoothly inside, no resistance. He could feel Logan's cock throbbing through the thin membrane separating them. He stared at Logan over Veronica's shoulder and they moved together now.
They pulled and pushed between them, sliding in together as she remained frozen in their arms. Afraid to move, afraid to let go, afraid not to.
She shattered between them, coming apart in their arms, hands scrambling, flying outwards as she fell off the precipice, coming in thick tidal waves, lost to the outside world.
They thrust harshly against her, into her, together, as they came, filling the latex, and swimming in the murky fluid, their lips barely grazing as she slumped against them, unconscious.
Their lips met for a moment before their heads fell, evening out their breathing, still buried to the hilt inside her, twitching, closer than they'd ever been before, closer than they ever could be again.
Author: synful_trixx
Pairing: Weevil/Logan/Veronica
Spoilers: Up to 2x12… sort of.
Summary: Veronica makes her way to THE Suite… and finds something she didn’t know she was looking for.
Disclaimer: I own nothing… seriously, you won’t get anything if you sue. Rob Thomas owns all.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 937
Author’s Note: Okay… so I’m totally warning you… I hurt my back today, and they gave me medication to deal with the pain. That being said, I was totally stoned when I wrote this… and I’ll probably regret posting it when I’m clear headed again. But I totally blame it on kyrieane as she’s my beta, my muse… and very drunk on wine at the moment. Lesson One. A drunk person + a stoned person = Cracked out Perversion fic.
She's not sure why she made her way out into the night. The darkened streets beckoning with slender fingers; leading her onward towards an unknown destination.
She was in the elevator before she knew it, heading up towards the suite. The suite; the place where so many good and bad things had happened to her in such a short period of time.
She still had the key card from all the long nights she'd spent beside Duncan. Letting herself into the darkened hotel room in the dead of night, curling up beside him. Imagining, pretending to live in a perfect world, with her perfect boyfriend.
He wasn't so much a perfect boyfriend anymore. More like a memory from years gone past, long gone, and better left where he belonged. In the past.
The elevator dinged, signaling the floor. She stood indecisively for moments before taking a deep calming breath and moving out into the hall. She stood at the door, finally pressing her ear to the cold wood, listening for sounds of life from within.
She heard the soft grunts, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh and hurriedly used her keycard to open the door, swinging it wide while bringing her taser out of her purse in one fluid motion. Lately, it wasn't very far from her hand.
She froze on the threshold as she took in the scene before her. Bottles littered the floor, left over take-out cartons on the coffee table, the couch was overturned, clothing haphazardly strewn throughout the room.
The two men entwined on the floor, kissing frantically, fingers pulling tugging and gripping, each fighting for control. They made a beautiful picture. Weevil's tanned skin sliding smoothly against Logan’s paler frame, slick with sweat, and other bodily fluids Veronica's mind was refusing to take in at the moment.
Weevil’s smaller frame finally settled on top, their hard cocks sliding against each other, as they both thrust their hips, totally oblivious to their audience. They clawed, drawing blood and gasps from the other. The need so thick and strong in the air, their skin peppered with bruises in varying states of healing. Tanned skin, light colored skin, shades of black, purple, blue and green, a Technicolor pornographic show.
Veronica must have made some noise, a small gasping of air escaping her throat, her mouth hanging open as both their heads snapped in her direction. The two froze for a moment, taking in her appearance, before turning back to each other, neither seeming to care that she was ogling their activities.
She moved closer, letting her messenger bag drop to the floor with a loud thunk, her coat soon following as she drew closer still. Her eyes widening more as Logan's hand reached out for her.
She was drawn into them, still fully clothed, tangled around them, naked flesh to the rough denim of her jeans, the soft fabric of her t-shirt. They moved sinuously against her, wanting friction.
Her teeth nipped at the soft skin of Weevil’s throat, causing him to arch, hiss, and moan at the sharp pain. One of his hands coming around to tangle in her hair, pulling her in for a rough kiss, his other still buried in Logan’s.
Weevil broke the kiss first, pressing his face to Logan's neck as Veronica turned her head, searching for Logan's lips.
Their kisses were volatile, teeth nipping, scraping, bruising. Trying to devour, eat their way into feeling something. Overcome with something darker.
Her clothing disappeared, and now slick between them they moved in tandem, striving, wanting, needing, her head arched backwards onto Logan's shoulder as they kissed beside her face, lost in each other as their hands continued to caress her, touch her, bruise her pale skin.
Smooth latex was fitting over their cocks, eyes slitted as they silently communicated. Veronica gasped as Logan slid smoothly inside, harsh, deep, thrusting with all his strength, before sliding out and Weevil slid in. They worked in tandem, Logan thrusting harshly, brutally inside her, while Weevil thrust slow and gentle.
They gave her no time to catch onto the rhythm; they worked together, fucking each other using her body. Differing their styles until she was lost in the sensations, losing her mind slowly with each cock buried to the hilt inside her.
Logan nodded once at Weevil, before they both slowed their pace to an agonizing crawl, till she was mewling like an eager kitten in their arms.
They sped their pace little by little, increasing until she was thrashing between them, striving for something, anything more. She thrust back and forth between them, wanting it all.
Weevil closed his eyes, and pulled out, his cock stabbing forward at her ass as they all froze. He'd slid smoothly inside, no resistance. He could feel Logan's cock throbbing through the thin membrane separating them. He stared at Logan over Veronica's shoulder and they moved together now.
They pulled and pushed between them, sliding in together as she remained frozen in their arms. Afraid to move, afraid to let go, afraid not to.
She shattered between them, coming apart in their arms, hands scrambling, flying outwards as she fell off the precipice, coming in thick tidal waves, lost to the outside world.
They thrust harshly against her, into her, together, as they came, filling the latex, and swimming in the murky fluid, their lips barely grazing as she slumped against them, unconscious.
Their lips met for a moment before their heads fell, evening out their breathing, still buried to the hilt inside her, twitching, closer than they'd ever been before, closer than they ever could be again.