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stuckyslut8 · 9 days ago

Text

Illegal

mob!bucky barnes x fbi!reader

summary: You’re an FBI agent sent undercover to get close to the most dangerous mob boss in the city. But the deeper you go, the harder it gets to remember which side you’re really on.

word count: 9,4k

WARNINGS: 18+ explicit content, MDNI— disclaimer: contains dark themes. read at your own discretion! for all the tags/warnings, please check series masterlist since it may contain spoilers. smut in this chapter; dirty talk, praising, oral (f receiving), rough sex, PiV, unprotected sex, overstimulation, breeding.

Chapter Three — „Breakdown” | Previous

The next morning hit harder than you expected.

You’d barely slept. Maybe a couple of hours at most. Your head had been too loud, your heart too wired, nerves completely shot. And now the sunlight spilling across the sheets felt more like a spotlight than a comfort.

Three days.

Three fucking days to give Mike something.

You sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the floor with your elbows on your knees, fingers pressed against your temple like that would stop the pounding in your skull.

You were running out of time.

And you had nothing.

No passwords. No access. No leverage. Just a man who slept in your bed and kissed your neck and told you he liked how you smiled when you were annoyed. A man who let you steal the blankets and didn’t even complain. A man who was supposed to be your target, your job, your way in—

And yet somehow he had become the only place you felt safe.

And that scared the shit out of you because you were never supposed to feel anything.

You went downstairs. In the kitchen, James was already up—mug in hand, hair still damp from the shower, dressed casually. Just sweats and a T-shirt.

He looked at you and smiled. “Hey,” he murmured, voice still rough from sleep. “Didn’t hear you get up.”

You forced a smile. “Hi…”

He walked toward you slowly and pressed a kiss to your cheek, one hand grazing your waist and it was so fucking gentle. So real.

Your chest tightened.

You couldn’t keep doing this. You had to find something. Anything. And fast.

Because this—whatever this was—it was already too dangerous. The sooner you were done with the job, the better.

He walked back to the stove and stirred something lazily in a pan. You weren’t even sure what—eggs maybe, or something fancier.

You sat down at one of the stools, chin resting on your hand as you just… watched him.

You hadn’t planned to.

But you did.

The way his brow furrowed in concentration. The way his shoulder muscles moved beneath his shirt when he stirred. The calm steadiness of him.

And the way the metal arm glinted—polished steel catching the morning light, like something out of a different world.

You hadn’t meant to stare. But your eyes traced the shape of it. The way it connected to the flesh of his shoulder. The careful precision of each piece, designed not just for function but for him.

You wondered how long he’d had it.

What it had cost him.

How much it still hurt.

And before you could stop yourself, the words just came out:

“Can I ask you about the arm?”

The question hung there for a second—soft but solid. You saw the change in him immediately.

He stilled. Spoon paused in the pan. Shoulders going tense.

He didn’t turn. Didn’t meet your eyes. Just said, low and quiet, “Accident.”

That was it. No details. No opening. Just a wall.

You nodded slowly, even though he wasn’t looking. “Okay.”

And you meant it. You didn’t press. You just sat there in the quiet, letting the silence stretch between you, heavy but not angry. He saw your nod from the corner of his eye. Registered it. Breathed in.

But after a minute or two, something in you twisted. The silence wasn’t sharp, but it lingered, and your stomach started to knot.

You didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable.

“I wasn’t trying to be weird about it,” you said, voice low. “I just… I’ve never seen anything like it before. And you never talk about it, barley touch me with it… so—”

“It’s fine,” he cut in gently. Not harsh. Just final.

You looked down at your hands, thumb tracing circles over your palm. “Right. Sorry.”

He finally turned his head, just enough to glance back at you over his shoulder. His features had softened. A breath slipped out of him—tired, maybe even a little regretful.

“You don’t have to tiptoe around me, you know,” he said. “Just… some things are harder to talk about.”

You met his eyes for half a second and gave a small nod. “Okay.”

He went back to stirring whatever was in the pan. You sat there in the quiet, watching the light from the window catch on the curve of his shoulder.

He plated the eggs and toast, slid one across the island to you, then leaned on his elbows across from you—watching.

You were still quiet. Still tracing that same invisible circle on your palm, still chewing on the inside of your cheek like maybe that would keep your thoughts in line.

“…Did I upset you?” he asked after a long pause.

Your head snapped up. “No. No, of course not.”

Your answer came fast—too fast—and your voice pitched just slightly too high. He noticed. Of course he did.

He just nodded, eyes still on yours. „You look sad,” he murmured.

That made your throat tighten.

You blinked a few times, trying to shake it, trying to rearrange your face into something calmer, lighter. The last thing you needed was him seeing how tangled up your head was. How close everything was to slipping out.

“I’m fine,” you said, a little too softly. “Just… tired.”

He nodded again, didn’t push further. He sat down next to you, quietly digging into the breakfast he made, the scrape of fork against plate the only sound filling the kitchen.

You barely touched your food. You just kept looking at him.

Your eyes lingered too long—on his hands, on the way his jaw tensed when he chewed, on the quiet focus he carried like second skin. It was clear he wasn’t going to talk unless you pried it open.

He wouldn’t tell you what he did. He wouldn’t tell you shit. But you weren’t stupid and maybe it was time he knew that.

So you straightened your spine, softened your tone, and placed the mask gently back over your face. Just enough. Just right.

“I think I know what your job is,” you said quietly.

His fork paused halfway to his mouth. Then he slowly set it down on the edge of his plate.

His eyes flicked toward you, sharp and unreadable. “What?”

“I’m not stupid,” you added, steady this time.

The shift in the room was instant. No raised voice, no movement, just stillness and tension.

His expression didn’t change, but everything in him was alert now. Controlled.

“What do you think you know?” he asked finally.

You shrugged a shoulder, keeping your gaze fixed on your plate. Nonchalant. Casual. Dangerously close to the edge.

“I’ve seen the signs. You don’t talk about work. You don’t have set hours. Sometimes you leave in the middle of the night. That bruise on your jaw last week? Definitely not from ‘bumping into a cabinet.’“

He was silent.

You looked up, just once, met his eyes. “I think you’re involved in something… off the books.”

His brow ticked—just barely. Then, finally, he spoke. “Be careful with that kind of talk.”

It wasn’t a threat. But it wasn’t not a warning either.

You nodded once. Not backing down. „Are you gonna lie to me again?” you asked softly.

He stared at you for a moment. His eyes flicked across your face, like he was trying to read you in return.

“I never lied,” he said at last.

You tilted your head. “Omission is lying, James.”

Another silence. This one longer. He looked away.

“Talk to me, James. Please.”

You didn’t mean to sound so desperate—but it came out that way. Soft, pleading. Honest.

He still didn’t look at you. Just stared at the far wall like there was something there only he could see. His shoulders were tense. Jaw locked.

So you tried again, voice lighter this time, almost joking, but not really.

“Are you like… a drug dealer or something?”

He let out a breath that was half a laugh, half something darker. Bitter. Empty.

“A drug dealer,” he repeated, shaking his head. “Jesus.”

“Well?” you prompted, but gently. “You won’t tell me, so I have to guess. And you do own a night club. That would make sense.”

He leaned forward on his elbows, fingers clasped tight in front of him. The muscles in his forearms flexed, and your eyes caught again on the metal one—solid, silent, strange.

“I’m not a fucking dealer,” he muttered. “I don’t push shit to kids.”

You swallowed. “Okay… then what?”

He didn’t answer. Not immediately.

Then, quietly, almost like it wasn’t meant for you at all, he said, “I do things people don’t want to talk about.”

Your stomach flipped. “And by people, you mean—”

He cut you off with a sharp look. “I’m not telling you.”

“But I’m already in it,” you said, and your voice broke a little. “You brought me into this. I’m in your bed, your house, your life. You don’t think I deserve to know who I’m actually with?”

He winced at that but still didn’t speak.

You pushed your plate away, appetite gone.

“Do you kill people?” you asked quietly, as if that wasn’t the very reason you’d ended up in this mess to begin with.

His silence was answer enough.

You felt your breath catch. Your fingers tightened around the edge of the table.

Then finally, finally, he turned to you—eyes shadowed, voice low. „I do what I’m told,” he said. “I do what needs to be done.”

„So you do kill them?”

„Don’t ask me that!” He yelled, the snap made you flinch.

But you didn’t back off. ‘Why not? You kill people, but hey—at least you don’t sell drugs to teenagers, right?’ you scoffed.

“Because if you think I’m a monster, I won’t blame you,” he said, flat and honest. “And I’m not gonna sit here and try to convince you otherwise.”

He stood up. Pushed the stool back and started pacing—one hand dragging through his hair, the other clenched into a fist at his side. He didn’t look at you. Couldn’t.

You watched him.

Watched the tension ripple through his shoulders, his spine, his jaw. The way he moved—sharp, agitated, like he couldn’t quite breathe right. Like the walls were closing in.

He muttered something under his breath. You didn’t catch it.

You stayed quiet.

Because you could see it—clear as day—this wasn’t just frustration. It was fear. Not fear of you… but fear for what this meant. Fear of what you might think. What you might do. That you’d pull away. That you’d leave. That you’d look at him differently now.

You stood slowly, fingers curling around the edge of the counter for balance—not because your legs were weak, but because your guilt was starting to crawl up your spine like ice.

“I was suspicious of this for a week now,” you said, voice low but steady. “Since I saw you hiding a gun in the drawer. You thought I was asleep but I wasn’t.”

He froze.

After a moment he turned to look at you fully, jaw clenched, eyes searching yours. You saw the flicker of panic there—sharp, flickering just beneath the surface like a fuse about to burn out. Shock, yes. But more than that—fear. Fear of what you’d say next. What you meant by it.

You didn’t stop.

“I didn’t run away then,” you continued, quieter now. “I could have but I didn’t. I won’t do it now either.”

And it was like something in him cracked open.

His shoulders dropped an inch, like someone had just pulled the weight of the whole damn world off his back. His mouth parted, but he didn’t speak. Couldn’t. He just stared at you with this look—this fucking look—that made your throat tighten and your heart twist.

Because all the fury and frustration in his expression melted. Gone in an instant. And what was left behind wasn’t anger.

It was something raw. Something aching. A softness that broke you a little because it shouldn’t have been there. You didn’t deserve it.

You saw how much he cared. How much he loved you—even if he hadn’t said the words out loud yet. It was all right there, shining in his eyes like sunlight through smoke.

And god, it ruined you because he didn’t know the truth. Didn’t know who you really were.

Didn’t know that while he was letting his walls down, letting you in, you’d been crawling through his life like a ghost with an ulterior motive.

You felt it rise in your chest like nausea—this grief, this shame, this bone-deep ache for what he didn’t know.

Because he was standing there, heart open, looking at you like you were something good.

And you were lying to him.

You were still lying to him.

He took a step forward. Then another. Until he was right in front of you, crowding your space, his chest nearly brushing yours.

His hands came up slowly—carefully, like he wasn’t sure he had the right—and then he cupped your face in his palms. His touch was warm, gentle. Steady. Like he was grounding himself in you. Like if he let go, he might fall apart.

“I wanted to keep you out of this,” he said, voice rough. “I tried to keep you out. From the second I met you.”

Your eyes burned.

“I didn’t want this life touching you. Didn’t want the blood, the danger, the shit I’ve done to ever touch you. I just… I wanted you to be safe.”

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s okay.”

He looked at you, searching your face like he didn’t quite believe it.

And then you said it again—quiet, trembling, too rehearsed and yet too honest.

“I told you I love you, didn’t I?”

His breath hitched.

You saw it hit him—like a blow to the chest he hadn’t braced for. And god, it killed you. You were manipulating him again and it made you sick. You were so fucking sick of yourself.

You blinked hard, trying to steady yourself, pushing another manipulative thought through your throat. “I meant it,” you whispered. “I love you. No matter what.”

And he let out a breath—shaky and wrecked—his forehead pressing against yours as his hands slid down to your neck, his thumbs brushing your jaw.

You hated yourself. For using these words again. For turning something real into part of the game.

He leaned forward and captured your lips in a kiss. It was careful and certain.

His thumb brushed the side of your face, featherlight, grounding you in the here and now. You could feel the calluses on his fingers, the faint tremble in his breath. His forehead rested against yours as he pulled back just an inch. Just enough to look at you.

His voice was low. Unsteady, but honest. “I love you too.”

And just like that, your heart cracked clean in half.

Because he meant it. You could see it, clear as day, in the way he looked at you. Like you were the safest thing in his world. The one piece of his life untouched by blood or regret.

You didn’t deserve it. Not when every second you spent wrapped in his arms was built on a lie.

Still, you couldn’t stop the way your chest swelled at his words. Couldn’t stop the ache blooming deep in your gut.

He loves you.

And you love him. You know that now. You cannot deny it. God, you love him and it’s fucking destroying you.

Your throat tightened, but you forced yourself to stay still, to breathe. Your fingers curled into the hem of his shirt, gripping it like an anchor, like if you held him hard enough you could keep the truth from rising up between you.

“James…” your voice cracked.

He didn’t pull away. Just searched your eyes with his own, like he was trying to read every fear and flicker of doubt off your face.

You wanted to tell him everything. To confess. To throw the whole mission away and be just a girl in love with a man who shouldn’t love her back.

But instead, you stayed silent as the guilt continued to slice through your ribs.

James brushed his lips over yours one last time, slower now, like he didn’t quite want to pull away.

With a sigh, he leaned back. “I should shower,” he murmured, glancing at the clock. “If I don’t move now, I’m gonna be late.”

You weren’t done with this conversation but you needed a break so you nodded, not trusting your voice.

He lingered a second longer—eyes scanning your face, as if he didn’t want to leave you like this—but eventually he gave you a small, reassuring smile and turned toward the hallway, raking a hand through his hair as he disappeared into the bathroom.

And then it was just you.

You and your fucking thoughts.

You sat back down on the stool, eyes locked on the dark swirl of coffee in your mug like it held the answers. But all it offered was silence. Heavy. Suffocating.

What the hell were you supposed to do now?

Your chest ached with the weight of it all. The room around you felt too still. Like even the air knew something had shifted.

You were an FBI agent. On a mission.

You had three days to give Mike information before the whole thing burned.

And instead? You’d fallen in love with a goddamn criminal.

Your hands clenched in your lap.

This wasn’t some little mistake. This wasn’t you slipping up, missing a clue or losing a tail. This was you crossing a line that couldn’t be uncrossed. You let him in. You let yourself fall. Somewhere between stolen kisses and sleepy mornings tangled in his sheets, you forgot what side you were on.

And now?

Now you were trapped.

Between loyalty and feeling. Between a badge you worked your entire like for and a man who loved you.

You blinked hard and stared down at the floor. Your heart was pounding, wild and sick with the truth.

You were supposed to bring him down.

But all you could think about was how he looked at you.

Like he’d give you anything.

Like you were the only clean thing in his world and now you had to destroy him or destroy yourself.

Great. Fucking great.

You sat there for another second, heart hammering.

He’s in the shower.

Your eyes flicked toward the hallway. You could hear the faint hiss of the water running, muffled behind the bathroom door.

Do something.

Your legs moved before your mind fully caught up. You stood, careful not to scrape the stool, not to make a sound. The quiet was deafening now, like the walls were holding their breath with you.

You had no idea how long he’d be in there—ten minutes? Less? You had to move fast.

You slipped into the bedroom first. Nothing new. Nothing he hadn’t let you see already. His drawers were filled with plain clothes, worn t-shirts, socks rolled in pairs. Nothing unusual. No ledger. No hidden phone. No proof.

You checked the night stand again. You dropped to your knees and slid the drawer open again, slower this time. Empty.

Your fingers were shaking.

This wasn’t like the movies. There was no perfect folder marked CRIMES tucked under a lamp. No damning document left out by mistake.

You exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over your face.

Or is there?

You looked at the bed. The space under it. You’d checked it. You were sure you’d checked it.

You tried again. Under the bed, your hand sweeping against cold floorboards..

And there it was.

A slim black folder, tucked all the way at the back. It hadn’t been there before. You were sure of it.

Your pulse kicked hard.

You pulled it out carefully, spine rigid, fingers barely brushing the cover before you opened it.

It wasn’t much.

A few printed sheets, some kind of internal record. Wire transfers. Codes. A list of names you didn’t recognize. Dollar amounts that made your stomach twist.

Not enough context to tell you what this was, but enough to know it mattered. Enough to tell you that James wasn’t just keeping secrets—he was hiding them deep.

You reached for your phone with shaking hands, snapping picture after picture. Page by page.

You’d send it to Mike later—when you were home. When you had an excuse to be alone.

It will buy you some time.

———

He drove you back to your apartment like he always did. Same soft goodbye. Same casual kiss to your cheek. Same lingering look when you got out of the car.

Your heart thudded all the way up the stairs.

Once inside, you locked the door behind you and didn’t bother turning on the lights. Just tossed your bag on the couch and crossed the room to your desk with quick, purposeful steps.

You pulled out your phone.

Opened your laptop.

And suddenly, your hands were trembling.

Get it together.

You plugged the phone in, waited for the prompt, then dragged the photos over—one by one. Transaction logs. Wire details. Names. Numbers. The folder’s contents now digitized, preserved in perfect clarity.

You opened a secure channel and attached the images in a fresh email. No body text. Just the subject line:

Found this. Now get me more time.

You stared at the screen for a second longer than you should’ve. Then you hit send and leaned back in your chair, heart pounding.

The room was dead quiet. Just the hum of the refrigerator. The faint buzz of your laptop’s fan.

You’d bought yourself a little more time, not only to complete the job but to figure out the mess you’re in.

And your feelings.

Your goddamn feelings.

———

Evening came fast.

The second you stepped into his apartment, his hands were on you—needy and hungry.

He didn’t bring it up.

Not the conversation, not your questions, not the way your voice had cracked when you told him you loved him. He didn’t ask what you’d been thinking while he was in the shower, or why you were quiet in the car.

He just kissed you.

Pressed you back against the door and kissed you like you were oxygen and he was drowning.

And you let him. Let him pull your coat from your shoulders, let him press hot kisses to your neck, let his hands roam your body with a desperate kind of reverence.

He took your hand, wordless, and led you to the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed like you were something precious, something breakable. Climbed over you slowly, bracing himself with his forearms as he hovered above you, the weight of his body never fully touching yours yet, but his presence—God, it was everywhere.

His eyes searched your face. Open, soft, hungry.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, baby,” he murmured, voice low and rough. His metal fingers brushed a strand of hair from your cheek. “Couldn’t get you outta my head.”

You stared up at him, heart pounding, lips parted.

There was so much in his eyes—want, yes, but also relief. Like he was grateful you were still here. That you hadn’t run when you could’ve. That you were still choosing him, despite everything.

He leaned down and kissed you slow and deep. His lips moved over yours and when you kissed him back—when your hands slid up his sides, when your hips shifted against his—he groaned softly into your mouth.

His body settled heavier against yours, and you could feel it—how hard he was for you already, how much he wanted this. You tilted your head, let his mouth travel down your jaw to your throat. He sucked a mark into the skin there, just below your ear, like he needed to brand you, to make sure you remembered who you belonged to.

He trailed kisses down your chest, over your sternum, between your breasts, his stubble dragging just enough to make you gasp. When his mouth closed around your nipple through the lace of your bra, your back arched instinctively.

“James…” you whispered, your hands in his hair now, tugging, anchoring yourself.

He looked up at you, pupils blown wide. That soft desperation still flickered beneath the surface, but now it was drenched in need.

His breath was warm against your skin, chest rising and falling a little quicker now. His voice came low, almost strained. „Gonna go a little rougher today, baby. Is that okay?”

Your stomach fluttered—no, twisted—in the best kind of way. That drop, that heat pooling between your thighs already aching for him. And God, the way he was looking at you—like he needed this. Like he needed you like this.

You nodded fast, eyes locked on his. “Yes. Oh fuck—yes.”

His jaw flexed like he’d been barely holding himself back.

He groaned, deep and guttural, and surged back up to kiss you again—harder this time, mouths crashing together with a hunger that had your head spinning. His hand—warm, calloused—slid down to grip your thigh and hiked it up over his hip, pulling you closer, grinding into you.

“Been thinking about how tight you feel around me,” he growled against your lips. “How you sound when I fuck you right.”

He tugged your shirt over your head, not bothering to be gentle. Your bra and jeans followed fast, and then he was kissing down your chest again, biting softly now, a little harder than before—marks blooming across your skin like he wanted to stake a claim.

His metal hand—cold, precise—slid between your legs, pressing against the heat there through your panties, and you gasped, your hips bucking up for more.

“Look at you,” he murmured, watching your face like it was art. “So fucking wet for me already.”

The cool press of metal between your legs made you jolt—eyes flying open, breath catching sharp in your throat.

Because—fuck. It was that hand.

The one he never used like this. The one he always kept back, always held away.

You’d mentioned it just this morning—tentative, careful—not even thinking he’d take it in. But now… now that hand was touching you there, moving slow, dragging the cold pads of his fingers over the heat between your thighs like he was proving something.

Your mouth parted in a soft gasp.

His eyes were locked on yours.

“You said I barely use it,” he murmured, voice rough, full of something dangerous and aching. “That true?”

You blinked up at him, dazed, nodding faintly. “I didn’t mean—”

He cut you off with a kiss. Slow. Firm. His metal fingers kept working between your legs, brushing over the fabric, just enough pressure to tease but not enough to satisfy.

You let out a soft, desperate sound when he dragged the flat of a cool finger right over your clit, even through your underwear. Your hips bucked—instinctual. Automatic.

Then the teasing got worse. Better. More unbearable.

He circled his finger over the damp spot, slow and deliberate, watching the way your body reacted to the contrast—the cold metal against the burning heat of your need. He didn’t push your panties aside yet. Just kept working you over through them.

The friction was maddening.

You squirmed, breath hitching, fingers curling into the sheets. “James…”

“Feels good?” he asked, dragging it out like he didn’t already know.

You nodded, almost frantic. “Y-Yeah.”

“Didn’t think you’d like this,” he murmured.

You looked up at him, breathless. „I do—fuck. I do,” you whimpered. “I want all of you.”

His jaw clenched, his eyes went darker, and finally he slid your panties aside.

“You’re gonna fucking feel all of me, baby,” he said, voice low and gravelly. “Every inch.”

His fingers lingered for a moment longer—just enough to make your legs shake—before he shifted down the bed, dragging his mouth along your thigh as he went. A trail of heat in the wake of his lips, open-mouthed and hungry.

You barely had time to register it before he hooked his hands under your knees and pulled you down toward the edge of the bed with a force that knocked the air from your lungs.

He dropped to his knees and looked up with eyes blown wide and dark.

He pressed his mouth between your thighs like he’d been starving for it. Like it was the only thing he’d been thinking about since this morning. The heat of his tongue, the deliberate way he licked into you—slow at first, slow and thorough, as if he was savoring every second of it.

Then deeper. Rougher.

One of his hands slid under your ass, gripping your hip—metal fingers cold and anchoring—while the other splayed over your thigh to hold you open for him. And fuck, you didn’t stand a chance.

“James—” Your voice broke. Your head dropped back against the sheets. “Oh my God—”

He groaned into you like he felt it—like your pleasure was his own.

His tongue worked you over in rhythm—pressing flat over your clit, then dragging down, licking back up with maddening focus. Every movement precise. Practiced. Worshipful.

Like he was trying to tell you without words how badly he needed you, how much he wanted you, how much it killed him that he couldn’t give you everything.

But this? This, he could give you.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he murmured against you, voice rasping and soaked in heat.

You moaned, trembling under him, and reached down to bury your hand in his hair—gripping tight as he sucked gently on your clit, tongue swirling, fingers digging into your skin like he couldn’t get close enough.

He was relentless.

And when your legs started to shake—when your hips arched and you whispered his name like a prayer—he only pressed in harder.

“James, I want you, please—” you gasped, breath breaking against the air. “Please—”

He looked up at you from between your thighs, mouth slick, jaw tight.

“Nu-uh, baby,” he rasped, voice low and firm. “Not until you come on my mouth.”

Your whole body clenched at the sound of it. At the way he said it like it wasn’t a request but a need to feel you fall apart on his tongue before he let himself have more.

He gripped your hips tighter and buried his mouth back between your legs, moaning low as he licked into you again—this time with purpose.

No teasing now. No patience.

Just him, devouring you like it was the last thing he’d ever do.

Your hands flew to his hair again, your hips bucking helplessly against his face as his tongue circled your clit and dragged slow, wet strokes down your center. The soft scrape of stubble, the cold press of his metal hand anchoring you in place—it was too much.

You were already so close, already unraveling. He knew it. He could feel it.

“Come on,” he murmured against you, voice almost gentle despite the way he was wrecking you. “Just like that, sweetheart.”

Your whole body tensed, thighs clamping around his head as the orgasm hit you hard and fast, your back arching off the bed as his mouth stayed on you through every wave of it.

He didn’t stop. Not until your body finally sagged against the sheets, your chest heaving, legs trembling around him.

Only then did he finally lift his head—lips swollen, chin glistening, hair messy and wild—and crawl up your body with that same dark heat in his eyes.

“You’re gonna let me fuck you now, yeah?” he said, voice like gravel. “Wanna be inside you so bad, baby.”

You barely had time to nod before he was kissing you—hard, hungry, teeth scraping your bottom lip. You tasted yourself on his mouth, felt the roughness in the way his hands grabbed at your waist, dragged you down the bed like he owned you.

This wasn’t slow. It wasn’t sweet. This was fucking feral. It wasn’t making love anymore, just pure fucking.

He didn’t waste time—just reached down, ripped your panties off, lined himself up, and pushed inside in one deep, brutal thrust that punched the air right out of your lungs.

“Fuck,” you cried out, nails digging into his shoulders, eyes squeezing shut.

“Too much?” he asked, voice strained, though his hips didn’t stop rolling—deep, punishing, fast.

“No,” you gasped, breath hitching as your legs wrapped around his waist. “God, no—don’t stop.”

He grunted, hips snapping into yours, fast and rough, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the room. You’d never seen him like this. Never felt him like this.

There was no careful build-up this time. No drawn-out foreplay, no slow rhythm. This was possession. Desperation.

His metal hand gripped your thigh, fingers squeezing almost too tight, holding you wide open for him. The other hand fisted in the sheets by your head, muscles flexing as he drove into you harder, deeper—like he was trying to bury himself inside you and never leave.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he panted, forehead falling to yours.

You could barely form words. Could barely think. Every thrust knocked your thoughts loose—pleasure sparking hot and fast, building again already.

He knew exactly how to move, how to grind his hips just right, how to drag a broken little moan from your throat every time he slammed into you.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he muttered against your skin, his voice rough and low and ruined. “Always take me so well, baby.”

You whimpered, thighs trembling as you felt yourself getting close again, too fast, too much.

“James—fuck—I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he growled. “Give it to me, sweetheart. Come on.”

And you did. God, you did—back arching off the mattress as that second orgasm ripped through you, your moan breaking into a cry as you clenched around him, your whole body trembling beneath the weight of it.

But James didn’t slow down. Didn’t even give you a second to breathe. Instead, he pulled out, chest heaving, voice wrecked when he said—

“I’m not fuckin’ done with you yet.”

And before you could even process it, he grabbed your hips, flipped you onto your stomach like you weighed nothing, and hauled your ass up until you were on your knees, face pressed into the pillow, spine curved just right for him.

You gasped at the sudden change, fingers gripping the sheets, still reeling from your orgasm when you felt him behind you again, thick and hard and ready, dragging the head of his cock through your slick folds with deliberate pressure.

“James—” you barely managed, breath caught somewhere between a plea and a moan.

“You said I could be rough, baby,” he rasped, leaning over you, his chest against your back, lips brushing your ear. “Want me to stop?”

You whimpered. „No, god—please—”

He slammed back into you in one sharp thrust, making your vision white out behind your eyes, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.

“Fuck,” he groaned, dragging back only to drive in harder. “You’re still so tight for me, angel.”

And you were gone. So far gone for him you didn’t care that you could barely think. That your legs were already shaking. That he had a fist tangled in your hair and his other hand gripping your hip so tight you’d probably bruise.

You’d let him do anything. He was using your body like he owned it—because he did.

You were barely holding yourself up anymore—arms trembling, body slick with sweat, tears pricking at your eyes from how deep he kept hitting, from how much it was. You were already wrecked and he just kept going.

“James—” you sobbed, your voice hoarse.

“I know, baby,” he groaned, not slowing down. “I know. You’re so fuckin’ sensitive now, huh?”

You nodded—or tried to—but your face was still half-buried in the pillow, your hands gripping the sheets in a death grip as he dragged another moan from your throat with the next deep thrust.

“But you’re takin’ it,” he murmured like it was the most sacred thing in the world. “So good for me. My sweet girl… always so good for me.”

His metal hand slid around your waist, down between your thighs again, fingertips brushing your swollen clit—and you cried out, the stimulation too much.

Your body jolted, tried to shy away, but he just held you tighter, grounding you with his weight, with the low, filthy praise pouring from his lips.

“Shh, I got you,” he breathed, his mouth against your shoulder. “One more, baby. Just one more for me. You can give me that, can’t you?”

And somehow, you could.

Because it was him. Because his voice—gravelly, reverent—made you feel like you were something holy. Like the way you fell apart for him was worship, not weakness.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he groaned, when he felt you start to clench around him again, your walls fluttering with the edge of a third orgasm. “That’s my girl. My perfect fuckin’ girl.”

You shattered for him a final time, mouth open in a silent cry, body convulsing beneath him—overwhelmed, overstimulated, undone.

He didn’t let go of you. Didn’t let up with the praise. He held you close as you fell apart, chest pressed to your back, voice ragged but soft as he kissed your shoulder and murmured, “So proud of you, baby. So fuckin’ proud.”

He was still fucking you through your high, deep and steady, one hand gripping your hip tight, the other splayed over your stomach to keep you grounded. Every thrust sent a new wave of pleasure crashing through your already wrung-out body.

You felt his weight, his cock, the heat of his skin against yours. It was overwhelming and perfect, and somewhere between the way he filled you and the way he whispered your fake name like a promise—you broke.

Fake name.

It all wasn’t fucking real. His words, his praise, his touch. You weren’t his. You weren’t her.

Your voice came out ragged, cracked, helpless.

“Fuck— I love you, James,” you gasped, unable to stop it now. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

You didn’t even realize you were crying until his rhythm faltered.

He stilled. His hand slid up your side, slow and trembling, and he leaned forward, pressing his chest to your back, mouth at your ear. Still inside you. Still holding you like you were the only thing keeping him upright.

“Oh, sweetie…” he breathed, and it sounded like something reverent.

You turned your face just enough to look at him over your shoulder, your eyes glassy, your lips parted.

“God, I love you too,” he whispered, “So fuckin’ much it scares the hell outta me.”

His metal hand was gently stroking through your hair, soothing and slow. You whimpered softly, your body still trembling, so full of him, but you didn’t want him to pull away. Not yet.

“Gonna let me come inside you?” he asked, barely a whisper. “Let me fill you up, baby?”

You nodded—instantly, breathlessly. “Yes,” you whispered. “Please, James… please.”

His hips started rolling again, slow but so deliberate now. His thrusts lost rhythm, getting sloppier, more urgent, chasing the edge with low curses and growls pressed into your skin.

„You’re mine, you hear me? Fucking mine.” You gasped when he stilled, buried as deep as he could go, his hands gripping you tight as he came inside you with a guttural moan. The warmth spread through you, and you felt everything—the way he clung to you, the way his body trembled, the way his breathing was so uneven.

After a while, he finally moved, carefully slipping out of you and collapsing beside you with a satisfied groan. His arm snaked around your waist instantly, tugging you into his chest like he needed to feel every inch of your body against his.

You didn’t resist—how could you?

Your muscles still trembled from the aftershocks, your heart pounding hard enough to echo in your ears. And his touch? His warmth? It grounded you.

His metal fingers brushed gently over your bare hip, then up to your ribs. His other hand cradled the back of your head, fingertips threading into your hair as he kissed your temple. Slow. Tender.

“I wasn’t too rough… was I?” he asked quietly, his voice a low, hesitant murmur against your skin. You felt him tense slightly behind you, like he was bracing for something—uncertainty coiling just beneath the surface.

You shook your head immediately, almost instinctively, and turned in his arms so you could look at him.

“No,” you whispered, breathless but certain. “God, James… I loved it.”

A breath escaped him—half-relief, half-disbelief. He searched your face, eyes still heavy-lidded but so full of warmth. That flicker of worry in his expression softened, his lips tugging into a tired, crooked smile.

“You sure?”

“Positive.” Your fingers reached up to gently touch his jaw. “You made me feel so good. You always do.”

His smile deepened, lazy and satisfied now. He leaned in and kissed you again—slower this time. Sweet. His lips moved over yours like a thank-you and an apology all at once.

“I’ve never had anyone like you,” he said softly, brushing his nose against yours. “Never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

You could’ve cried again.

Instead, you tucked yourself against his chest.

You wanted to bury yourself in this moment, just rest, go to sleep. But conversation from earlier still was there in the back of your mind.

So, you tilted your head up to look at him. His eyes were half-closed, relaxed in a way you only saw in moments like this—soft and so very him.

“James…” your voice was quiet, almost hesitant, “Are we gonna talk about it? What we talked about this morning?”

His jaw tensed just slightly, but he didn’t pull away. Didn’t shut down.

He sighed, long and low, and opened his eyes fully to meet yours. “What do you wanna know?” he said, voice raw. No deflection, no charm. Just honesty.

Here he was—guard down, heart cracked open, still holding you like you were something precious.

You hated yourself, you figured it out already. But now that hatred only grew bigger.

You hated how good he was to you. How safe you felt in his arms. How much you wanted all of this to be real. But more than anything, you hated what you were about to do. Because no matter how real it felt, it didn’t change the truth.

You were still an an agent on a fucking mission. It was insane to you how often you had to remind yourself that.

Still undercover. Still reporting to Mike.

And James… he was the target.

So you swallowed down your guilt, curled a little closer to him, and whispered, “Everything.”

He huffed out a breath, like your request physically weighed on him. His fingers flexed against your lower back before he stilled again.

“You know I can’t tell you everything,” he said, not coldly—but like someone who’d been holding onto secrets for so long, it physically hurt to loosen his grip.

You nodded, lips twitching into the smallest, saddest smile. “Then tell me whatever you can.”

He stared up at the ceiling for a second, jaw working. And then—finally—he spoke.

“I didn’t want this life,” he began, voice low and steady. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. My dad got caught up in shit before I was even outta high school. I thought I could get him out, fix things. But it was already too late by then. The debts, the people… it was all tangled.”

You listened, barely breathing.

“I started helping. Running errands. Doing the grunt work. It was supposed to be temporary. Just long enough to make sure my mom could keep the house. But one day turned into a week, a month… years.”

He looked down at you now, and there was something raw in his eyes. “By the time I realized I was in too deep, I was already the guy people answered to. Already had blood on my hands.”

He didn’t flinch when he said it. Didn’t try to make himself the victim. He was just telling you the truth, as ugly as it was.

“I tried to keep it clean. Nothing I couldn’t sleep through. But the longer you’re in this world, the harder that gets. Sometimes people don’t leave you a choice.”

You said nothing, just reached for his hand beneath the sheets. Held it.

His voice dropped further. “Fuck—I never wanted you to know,” he sighed. „I know I couldn’t keep this from you forever, but—”

“But I know,” you cut in gently, your fingers brushing over his jaw. “I know.”

His eyes searched yours, like he was waiting for your judgment now. But it didn’t came.

You leaned in, your forehead resting lightly against his. “I know what kind of man you are,” you whispered. “Because you show me. Every time you touch me like I’m something precious. Every time you take care of me without saying a word. Every time you get soft around me, just a little.”

His breathing stilled.

“You don’t pretend to be someone you’re not,” you continued. “You don’t hide it. And somehow… that makes it worse. Because it means I see all of you. And I still can’t walk away.”

Your voice broke just slightly at the end, but your hand stayed steady on his skin, tracing over his cheek.

„I love you so much,” he whispered, his eyes a bit glassy, although a weak, sad smile was forming at his lips. „You have no idea how much you mean to me.”

You felt your heart ache. Burn.

Because you meant every word. You did see him. You saw all the pieces—the hard edges, the soft ones, the danger, the loyalty, the violence, the tenderness. You saw them all and still found yourself falling.

But he didn’t see you.

Not really. Not the version of you that still wore a badge deep under your skin. Not the one who tried to desperately unlock his phone just to find some evidence. Not the version who’d photographed his files that same morning, who’d sent them off with shaking hands and sick guilt curdling in your stomach.

He didn’t know. And if he did?

He’d probably kill you.

„I love you too.” You finally answered, returning the smile. It was forced but there.

You stayed quiet. Let him wrap his arm tighter around your waist. Let him bury his face into your neck like he needed to be close to you just to breathe.

And you clung to him just as tightly—because maybe you needed it too.

The guilt didn’t leave. It pulsed in your throat. Sour and hot.

Because what he saw—this version of you he trusted, kissed, held close after giving you every broken, guarded piece of himself—that woman wasn’t real.

At least not entirely.

———

The morning light was pale when it crept through the windows, spilling soft gold across the bedroom. You stirred slowly, eyes blinking open against the brightness, your body sore in a way that made you blush if you thought too long about it.

James was still there. Still asleep beside you, holding you, his chest rising and falling in a quiet rhythm against your back. Warm. Steady.

Safe.

But the second you remembered where you were—what you were doing—the comfort cracked. A slow, creeping panic began to coil in your chest again, the way it always did when things got too quiet.

The guilt slithered back in like it had been waiting. The weight of that dishonesty felt unbearable in the daylight. Your throat tightened. Your eyes burned.

Fuck.

You turned onto your side slowly, curling inward on yourself, like maybe if you made yourself smaller the feeling would pass. But it didn’t. It grew sharper. Louder.

You didn’t want to cry. God, you didn’t want to cry. But your chest was already rising too fast, your face pinching like it was bracing to fall apart. Eventually a sob escaped your lips.

“Hey…”

His voice was quiet. Sleep-rough and warm. You hadn’t realized he was awake, or maybe your whimper woke him up.

You felt him shift behind you, his hand moving up your arm. Gentle. Steady.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice still low. Not accusing. Just concerned.

You shook your head quickly, kept your face turned away.

“Nothing,” you whispered, too fast. “I’m fine.”

He didn’t believe that. You felt it in the silence. He sat up slowly, then leaned over and kissed the back of your shoulder. You could feel the tenderness in it. The quiet way he tried to offer comfort without asking for explanation.

“I’m here,” he said softly, like it was simple. Like it was obvious.

And god, it made your eyes sting worse.

You rolled toward him before you could stop yourself, burying your face against his chest as if you could hide there from all of it—the guilt, the lies, the truth.

His arms wrapped around you without hesitation. Just held you. One hand stroking through your hair. He just stayed with you like that, breathing slow and steady, like he knew exactly what you needed before you could ask for it.

“I’m here, baby…” he murmured again, quieter now, lips brushing against your hairline. His hand never stopped moving—slow strokes through your hair, his palm cradling the back of your head like you were something fragile.

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t. Your throat was tight, choked full of too many things you couldn’t say.

James shifted, just enough to lean back and look at you. His hand slid from your hair to your cheek, thumb brushing beneath your eye, catching the tears that had begun to spill without permission. Your crying got even louder, messier.

“Hey…” he whispered, tilting your face up toward him. “Sweetheart… you’re worrying me now, baby. What is it?”

Your lashes fluttered, your breath hitching again when you met his eyes—so soft, so concerned, so full of something you didn’t deserve.

He looked at you like he ached to understand. Like if he could take whatever pain you were carrying and shoulder it himself, he would do it without question.

His brows pulled together.

“Was it… was I too rough with you last night?” he asked, voice almost breaking. “Because if I was—fuck, baby, I didn’t mean to—”

“No,” you shook your head quickly, clutching his wrist where he held your face. “I told you, it was good…No, James. That’s not it. You were perfect. You are. I just…”

You trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. You didn’t have the words. Or rather—you had too many, and none of them were the truth you were allowed to say.

He exhaled slowly, forehead pressing to yours.

“Is it what I told you?” he murmured. “About… my work. What I do?”

You didn’t respond. He took the silence as guilt. As fear. As something inside you shifting away from him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “I didn’t want to drag you into that part of me. I tried not to. But I guess I knew it was only a matter of time.”

Your lip trembled. „It’s not that, I—”

He cupped your face more fully, thumbs stroking your cheeks, grounding you.

“Hey, look at me,” he said gently, eyes searching yours. “You’re safe with me, alright? I’d never hurt you. I promise you that. I just…”

He faltered, the words catching in his throat.

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

And fuck—those five words nearly broke you.

Because you wanted to tell him he wouldn’t. You wanted to say that he was safe with you, too. That you weren’t going anywhere. That this—whatever it was—meant as much to you as it did to him.

So instead, you leaned in, pressed your cheek to his chest, “I know. It’s not that— I just… I’m scared, James. Of everything.”

Your voice cracked on the last word.

You felt his lips press to the top of your head, warm and lingering. His arms wrapped around you like he thought he could protect you from the world if he just held on hard enough.

But he was part of the world you were scared of.

You shut your eyes and let yourself feel the way his heart beat steady beneath your ear. One of his hands slid up and down your back, slow and soothing.

“I know things are messy,” he murmured against your hair. “And I know I’ve dragged you into a life you didn’t ask for. But you don’t have to be scared of me, baby. I’d never hurt you.”

I’d never hurt you.

Those words lodged deep in your chest like splinters.

Because that’s what you were afraid of.

Not just losing him if the truth ever came out—but what he’d become, what he’d do if he found out you weren’t who he thought you were.

He’d never hurt you.

But what if you gave him a reason to?

You swallowed hard, tears burning hot at the corners of your eyes again. You curled your fingers into his side, clung to him like you could carve this version of him into your memory.

Because this James—the one who held you like this, the one whispering soft reassurances into your skin—this version loved you.

And if he knew? If he found out who you really were, why you were here?

Would he still?

You didn’t know. And the not-knowing was eating you alive.

But you couldn’t tell him that. Not now. Not ever.

So you just pressed closer, burying yourself in his warmth, trying to shut your mind off. Trying not to break right there in his arms.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured again, voice low and steady. “Whatever it is—whatever’s got you all twisted up in your head—I’ve got you, baby.”

And fuck. You almost wished he hadn’t said that. Because it made it so much worse.

You didn’t answer. Just let your hand slide along his chest, gripping the edge of the blanket like it could anchor you to something real. Anything that wasn’t the swirl of dread in your stomach.

He must’ve felt it—how close you were to unraveling. And maybe he didn’t understand why, maybe he thought it was something else entirely, but still… he tried.

“Hey,” he said softly, and his tone shifted, lightened, like he was pulling you out of the dark with him. “You remember that old couple from the diner I took you to for breakfast a few days ago? The ones who were practically yelling at each other about eggs?”

Your brows pulled together as you looked up at him, confused through the haze of your tears.

James smiled a little, brushing his thumb gently over your cheek. “You joked that’d be us in fifty years. You glared at me and said, ‘If you ever mess up my breakfast order like that, I’ll walk.’”

A soft laugh slipped from your throat, wet and tired. You remembered. You were teasing him back then, still trying to gain more of his trust but none of it mattered now.

“Because she asked for scrambled and he brought her poached,” you muttered, your voice small. “It’s a crime.”

“It is,” he agreed solemnly. “Unforgivable, honestly.”

Another quiet laugh. You shook your head and wiped your eyes with the back of your hand.

James shifted to look at you more fully, propping himself up on his elbow. “We’re gonna be okay,” he said, more seriously this time. “Me and you. Even if the world burns down around us, you and I—we’ll be fine. Because I’ll make sure of it.”

You looked up at him—messy hair, sleepy eyes, that gentle smile—and for a second you almost believed him.

“You know…” you murmured, your fingers absentmindedly tracing a line across his chest, “I always wanted to live on a farm one day.”

James blinked, then let out a small laugh, rough and low. “A farm? For real?”

You smiled, eyes still puffy from earlier but somehow lighter now. “Yeah. Like, a quiet little place. Chickens. A goat, maybe.” You looked up at him, sheepish. “A big garden. Away from all this chaos and noise.”

He raised a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You feeding goats and planting tomatoes—now that’s a picture.”

“Oh, shut up,” you laughed, swatting at his side. “I could do it.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” he teased, grinning now. “Just didn’t expect my city girl to say farm of all things.”

You shrugged, your smile soft. “It’s just… peaceful. It always sounded like peace to me. Waking up early, sun on your face. Nobody calling. No running. Just… life. Real life.”

James was quiet for a second, looking at you like he was seeing something new. Something delicate. Something real.

“I get it,” he said finally, voice lower, more thoughtful now. „Told you, I like the quiet.”

You didn’t say anything just smiled, lost in thought. And maybe that was the first time you let yourself speak about the future like it was yours. Like it wasn’t something that could be taken. Like it could include him.

Even if it was all a lie underneath, it still felt good to dream with him like that. Just for a little while.

Chapter Four soon… 💸

series tags (tysm for all the love and support, If you asked to be tagged and I didn’t tag you—you’re crossed out—it means I couldn’t for some reason 💔): @iamthatonefangirl @muchwita @its-in-the-woods @taqmari @opheliabbarnes @rabknowstheend @pineapplechuncks @infinitepersuasion @sweetesharley @adalvsseb @miss-chuchu @nandanandada @globetrotter28 @whorunthemfworld-girls @madlyinlovewmattmurd0ck @ruexj283 @xamapolax @bloodmocha @castawaycreature @wakemeornot @lilylilyyyyyy @rue963 @miirasarchive @fleurenoir @figtreesandmoonlight @steph88x @starstruck-cowgirl @okaytrashpanda

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stuckyslut8 · 1 month ago

Text

Just wanna be Lloyd hansen's stay at home wife.

Right where you belong

Summary: lloyd comforts you after a long shitty day.

A/N: THSI IS JUST a comfort drabble i made one day, felt like posting it

warning: fluff, angst, lloyd is a cutie as always.

You felt like absolute shit, you didn't know what to do, you just got fired from your job, it didn't matter , you never liked it anyway, but it still didn't hurt any less, you should've known your boss wasn't kidding on the submission of the work on time. The one time you forget to submit on due this happens.

You didn't know what to do, that's why you were currently on your way back to your apartment, sure you're job paid you good enough to rent out a big apartment in New York, one with a great view of the city, but it suddenly felt lonely. Like you had no one to share your sorrows with, when you entered, you weren't in the mood to deal with your mom , and didn't wanna worry her . Your "friend" Sam from work is such a bitch you didn't know why you still hang out with her, she was partially the reason you got fired.

You opened the door of your apartment, and entered in , expecting silence that you knew you had to wash down with some whiskey along with your sorrows, but instead you found lloyd , the 6 foot moustache man sitting in your couch in an ugly Christmas sweater and loafers, wearing a santa hat,he gave you a big grin. "Didn't expect me did ya sunshine?"

You froze , overwhelmed with emotions, you only remember tears streaming down your face as you let it all out, being cradled again Lloyds chest. "Shh..shh .. calm down didn't know you missed me so much " he joked , but he knew this was about something more than that, he'd never seen you cry before ,we'll except for those stupid movies you'd watch, he'd never seen you upset over real world things.

You wept and wept and wept before you finally told him everything, it was not just getting fired from your job, but your bitch friends, having the worst week of your life, having to spend Christmas alone without lloyd because he had been away for work . "Shh it's okay sunshine...so what that asshole fired you, you'll find a better job at a bigger place, that company was not good enough for you anyway . " He reasoned. Just those words made you feel better .

"thanks Lloyd, that's what I think too, i ...maybe i should leave new york and look for a job elsewhere." Lloyd rubbed your back soothingly, calming you down.

"of course sunshine.....move to masechussetes with me yeah? Move in with me yeahh, I can wake up to you everyday." Lloyd says. You were shocked , didn't expect it from lloyd hansen of all people, you both were just hooking up , never wanting to put labels , but couldn't stay away from each other ,though you both lived in different states, but you always knew he cared for you in his own way, you just never expected these words to come out of his mouth.

"Lloyd.." you smile at his words."I need to find a job in Massachusetts first ..."

"ohh come on ,just be with me I'll take care of ya, you don't need a job..."

"you don't get to decide that if I need a job or not.." though you knew he was just messing with you and trying to cheer you up.

"hmm I know that ,...how bout this,you move to masechussetes with me first and we'll make up for all the most time , and I'll apologize for working through Christmas..."

"you better -" you glared at lloyd playfully.

"oh or course i plan to, why did you think i wore a fucking Christmas sweater and this hat.."

"hmm looks good on on you" you says laughing.

"well thanks sunshine...as I was saying, move to masechussetes first and then maybe we'll look for a job for you." He said placing his hands gently on your hips

"that's not how it works.. lloyd, I need to find a job first , and then move-"

"oh come on you don't even need a job, just stay in my place you'll get whatever you want , you can just stay there painting or reading books all day or whatever it is you feel like doing, maybe me, you can do me all day... And then if you really want to we can get you a job there."

"that does sound like a dream ..but I'm fine i don't expect you to take care of me I can take care of my-"

"yeahh yeahh you can take care of yourself, I know, you're very capable sunshine I've seen it first hand, but just ...let me " he pressed a kiss to the back of your palm.

"I have no problem in letting you take care of me baby...i - " you held yourself back from saying those words though you've both said it multiple times during sex or when you were drunk. It wasn't offical y/n , don't make a fool of yourself,don't make a scene.

"what was that sunshine, complete your words .." lloyd said grinning.

"I love you" lloyd pressed his lips to yours the moment you said it.

"I know babygirl, i love you too ." You allowed your arms around him. "And i want you to be mine, that's all in asking."

"you want me to move to masechussetes?" You ask head still buried in between his arms and firm chest.

"I'd love for you to... but only if you want to, if you wanna stay in new york that's fine too"

"noo i ...I wanna be with you." You said.

"then move to masechussetes?" Lloyd asked hopefully.

"gimme kisses first and maybe put that mouth of yours to good use." You said poking at Lloyds chest.

"well somebody's demanding." While he was already on his knees spreading your legs wide open .

"I've had a shitty day ,I deserve this " .

#goals

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stuckyslut8 · 1 month ago

Text

Creme filled ;)

Part 1

A/N : this is absolute filth and I'm not sorry.

Warning: smut . 18+ minors dni. Creampie. Cumplay. Dom bucky . Daddy kink. Bucky is thicc.chubby bucky. Inappropriate use of Bucky's cream.

Pairing: chubby bucky x baker reader.

You were currently laid on your stomach, bucky fucking you from behind, his soft tummy moving on your back with every thrust .

"Bucky..." You moaned his name. Bucky smirked as he kept pounding into your poor pussy.

"does that feel good sweets, is my cock making you feel good . " His grip on your neck loosened.

"yes daddy feels so good, your cock is filling me up so nicee." You whimpered.

Bucky loved teasing you, he stopped mid thrust , just to reach for the cream filled donuts nearby , he took a huge bite of it , "hmm tastes so good sweetheart.". You were desperate for him to move , but you knew he wouldn't. So you started fucking yourself on his cock, moving your ass up and down his member, making him almost choke on the donut. "Jeez sweets what's gotten into you today, you're usually a patient girl when daddy fucks you." He went back to taking charge now, gripped your hips tightly slamming into you making you go limp on his dick, he loved using you like this, he knew you loved it too.

" daddy ..." Bucky smacked your ass a few times ,before fucking into you again.

"tell me sweets, does it feel good ?" You only manage to yes. "Do you want daddy's cream? You want daddy to fill this hole? Like you filled those donuts . He knew the right dirty talk that would get you going.

"yes daddy want you to fill me with cream .".

" you're gonna come along with daddy yeah? Let go when i tell you to." He grips your ass firm enough to leave marks, bouncing you on his cock so swiftly, he didn't even break a sweat yet, tet you were so far gone after 7 orgasms .

"come for daddy sweets." And you both came his cum spilling into you, your combined juices leaking out of your pussy. Bucky gathered them with his fingers , and slipped it into his mouth.

"fuck we taste to good together sweets, wanna try?" You whimper out a yes. He took more of your cum and let you suck on his fingers, making you taste it. "Doesn't that taste good sweets?"

"hmm it's soo good baby ." In the middle of tasting it you got an awesome idea.

"are you sure about this sweets ?" Bucky really was still processing the level of filth you were doing , bringing him to your bakery telling him you were working on a few flavour. The next he knows you pulled his cock out jerking him off , then you explained you plan to him.

"oh you're so unbelievable sweets, you wanna put my cum on a donut?" Bucky loved the idea .

"yes barnes now be a good boy and cum in that bowl, don't waste it." He did as you said.

Bucky usually came a lot due to his enchanced abilities. And it was just enough to dip your donut in the bowl, you took a bite , savouring the taste.

"you like that sweets? Maybe you can sell it in your bakery as a special." He joked.

You furrowed your brows. " Nooo it's only for me ".

"really my sweets doesn't wanna share her new favourite flavour with the world? "

"no barnes , if they want it they can get their own super soldier." Bucky smiled at your possesiveness. "Don't be so jealous sweetheart you know I'm all yours." He pressed a loving kiss to your lips. " I know daddy ."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #james buchanan barnes #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fandom #winter soldier #chubby bucky smut #bucky smut #bucky x reader smut #chubby bucky x reader #chubby bucky #bucky x reader

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stuckyslut8 · 1 month ago

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You're a little much for me

pairing: lloyd hansen x assassin reader

Summary : you confront lloyd after learning the truth about the mission he sent you on.

Series Warning: angst. Smut . 18+ minors dni. Chapters with smut will be marked with *. Lloyd hansen being lloyd hansen.

You could only remember a few things , somehow a storm was coming up north,both the pilots refused to move forward ,so you had to drop the mission and return to base, to Hansen government agency's HQ.

But the closer you got to the HQ more ,the more intel you learnt about the mission , it was a suicide mission....

That means lloyd knew right, the man who got you out of a life sentence for working under hydra, the man who gave you a clean slate and a place in his team knew you weren't gonna make it. The man who you spent endless nights in bed with knew he'd never see you again, or maybe he didn't need you anymore. That was the truth right, but somehow your foolish lovesick mind refused to believe it.

" sunshine stop it ,i had backup I'd never send my team out to die." Lloyd was trying his best to convince you but even be knew he wasn't good at it.

"But it wasn't your whole team, it was just me and cara Michael, him you hate i know. And me?"

"Stop it sunshine ,i didn't want you to get killed"

Lloyd had a tight grip on your arm ,you could feel his grip trembling slightly as if he wanted to desperately hold you yet his hands were strong ,keeping you firmly in place.

"But it doesn't add up, you really thought I'd make it out of there alive ? "

Lloyd was silent for a moment ,he knew you had point ,he didn't have any actual reason to believe you'd make it back alive.

"Y-yes ,i thought you'd be fine." He said it with such certainty you almost believed him ,but his voice trembled as he spoke giving away his insecurities.

"You can just say it " your words heavy with the urge to not cry.

"Say what?" Lloyd feigned innocence ,he knew exactly what you were talking about but he tried to avoid the subject ,tugging your chin so you were looking up at him again.

"Say that you sent me out there to die" you finally spit it out.

"No." Lloyd said firmly ,he was avoiding eye contact and his grip on your chin grew tighter.

"I was supposed to rot away in jail for the rest of my life, why would It matter if I lived right?"

Lloyd went quiet again ,his expression was unreadable and his grip on your chin relaxed slightly.

"I gave you a clean slate ,remember?" Lloyd said gruffly ,avoiding the main subject.

"I don't have family, friends no one to even give a fuck at my funeral, of course I'm the perfect pick for this mission "

"Stop it." Lloyd's voice was firm and he released your chin ,his hands coming to grip your waist instead.

He pulled you closer to him ,his grip on you was almost possessive."Just stop it ,i didn't want you to die." He spoke through gritted teeth,his jaw clenched.His hands moved to your back ,pulling you flush against him.

"I wish I could believe you lloyd " you didn't let yourself get lost I'm his touch.

Lloyd let out a frustrated growl,his hands gripping tighter.

"Why can't you just believe me." He demanded ,looking down at you with anger and desperation in his eyes.

"Just tell me the truth "

He was struggling to find the words ,his usually confident demeanor gone.

"I - I-" he tried again but he couldn't find the words,he didn't know what to say.His hand came up to cup your face , his thumb gently stroking your cheek."You're a liability" he finally spoke ,his voice was tight and his hand was still cupping your face.

Lloyd was a ruthless man,but with the way his hand gently stroking your face you'd think he'd be an angel.

"Good to know...I'll see you later mr.hansen"

Lloyd's grip on you tightened again as soon as the words left your mouth,pulling you back against him.

His hand moved to tilt your face up towards him ,forcing you to look at him.

"Wait, sunshine." He said ,his voice slightly panicked. But you left, escaping his grip.

#lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen fluff #lloyd hansen x assasin reader #liability series #the gray man #chris evans x reader smut #chris evans x you #chris evans characters #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #lloyd hansen x reader angst #soft lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen server #lloyd fics

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stuckyslut8 · 1 month ago

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When perspective is earned.

Part 1

Summary : you head to the mountains in search of the plant, steve follows you up there.

Warning:18+ minors dni. smut . Dom steve rogers . Dark Steve . Fingering. Creampie. Breeding kink. Angst.

Pairing : king steve rogers x witch reader

The hours passed, the silence in the room only broken by the occasional crackle from the fireplace. Steven grew weary, the worry and helplessness wearing him down. He couldn't shake his thoughts of you, the way you had stormed out so defiantly, the way you could be alone and vulnerable right now.

It had been three days since you left .

In these three days, Steven had become a shell of his former self. The bags under his eyes were evident of the sleepless nights he had been having, his body running on adrenaline alone. He had thrown himself into his kingly duties, but every spare moment was spent pacing across the floor or staring out the window, praying for any sign of your return.

steve took matters into his Own hands and came looking for you in the mountains.

Steven rode through the harsh mountain terrain, his jaw clenched and his eyes scanning the surroundings intently. He had left his men behind under the pretense of a diplomatic mission, not wanting any of them to know of his true intentions.The wind howled as he made his way deeper into the mountains, the path difficult and treacherous. He kept his focus, knowing he had to find you before it was too late.

The snowstorm made visibility challenging, and the biting cold seeped through his thickest of cloaks. But Steven didn't let it deter him, his resolve firmer than ever. He pushed forward, his eyes sharp, his heart pounding.

"Steven ..what do you think you're doing here"

"looking for you, i told you it's not wise to go alone." He said mounting off of his horse getting close to you.

"so you rode in the middle of a storm?" You could see he was freezing. You used your magic to warm him up. He thanked you for it.

"stop it steven,you're a fool." Steve glared at you angrily. "Yes I'm a fool because I cared about you enough to come looking for you ." He spitted out.

" I can handle myself,I'm a witch." Steve sighed at your words knowing you were right, but he thought he had every right to panic and care about you and come here.

" did you...did you get what you wanted?" He asked after staring at you for a while.

" yes "

" well good... I suppose we can't leave now , we have to find a place to hide till the storm passes."

"follow me "

You both find a cave large enough to hold you both and the horses .

Steve was silent the whole time, so many questions lingering in his mind , yet he just followed your instructions.

"take of your wet clothes and dry them by the fire." He did as you said, stripping down every article of clothing till he was bare. You did the same , with nothing left to cover your modesty, you stood by the fire warming yourself up.

Steve tried his best not to stare at your form, your breasts perking up in the cold , the curves in your body.

You both sat beside each other, absorbing the warmth , watching embers fly.

"I'm sorry " steve broke the silence.

" save it." You said coldly, "not in the mood for your antics".

He pulled you closer roughly, "i mean it, you know i couldn't do anything when they found out about us, my mother kept me locked away, and after my father's demise I had to take over the throne ."

"you can do as you please , you're a human, a royal." Steven wrapped his arms around you tightly pulling you on his lap, your barely bodies creating friction against one another.

" please don't say that my love, you must understand my position." You squirmed in his lap, your pussy involuntarily rubbed against his thick member , he held your hips ,moving in you in a tantalizing phase, hearing your moans. Lips found your neck leaving a trail of kisses.

".we shouldn't..." You tried to think of an excuse, in vain as he popped one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking on it skillfully.

" tell me to stop my sweet witch, tell me you don't need me like I need you right now." You couldn't.

Steve wasted no time , kissing every inch of you. His fingers found your pussy, playing with you like he had a thousand times before. "So tight as always little witch, need to stretch you enough to take all of me." He said fingers pumping in and out of you."just put your useless cock in me steven" you said angrily, both the circumstances and his teasing frustrated you.

he added a third one making you cry in pleasure. "Hmm no too much, too much" you whispered incoherently, steven chuckled. "Really witch, you can't take my fingers yet you're so confident about taking my cock? Always getting yourself in trouble." He yearned to hear those cried that left you, telling him how it was too much for you, you were too overstimulated from just his fingers. "You are amusing little witch, shall I stop then? If it is too much for you? Too much for this tiny witch pussy?"

"no don't you fucking stop" your nails scratching his back, leaving red marks.

"that's my girl, that's my little witch, I know what you can take.... but you should know little witch, I'm not the timid lean boy you were used to, the potion enhanced all parts of me, i doubt you can take my cock ."

"I can, I can take your cock please, please, I need it." You were shameless at this point , begging the man on top of you. Steve enjoyed it thoroughly. He pulled out his cock, giving it a few pumps before pushing it into your gaping hole.

You couldn't help the moans that left you, as steven pounded his cock in and out of you, his words didn't help either. "Shh I know my little witch, it's been far too long, I missed this pussy too ,more than you know, do not hold back, let me hear those moans." He nipped your neck ,leaving bite marks here and there , here comes the steven you used to know, the one always yearning to make you his, marking you at every possible chance.

Steven pounded into you mercilessly, his thick cock filling you up so snug, every movement overstimulated you, he didn't stop rocking his body back and forth, kissing your chest along the way. "Are you close my little witch? Let go for me, let go i want to feel that cunt clenching around me." His fingers played with your clit, making you cum , clenching hard around his cock just as he asked.

Steven kissed the away tears in your cheeks, soothing you comfortinglt, his fucked you rough but his hands held you softly. Giving you sweet kisses , telling you how much he missed you. "I'm gonna come in your little witch, make you mine all over again." He knew you could overpower him with your magic easily but you let him fuck you, you let him take over your body .

He fucked you through your orgasm, until his own release painted your walls . "Such a good little witch, always being good for me" he praised you as he pulled out, his fingers pushing his cum back into your hole, "want you to take every bit, little witch, and don't you dare use those contraceptive spells." You squirmed as his fingers fucked his cum back into your hole.

"nobody gets my seed little witch, you should be grateful for having the king's seed in you." You could only nod in response.

"come here don't freeze to death little witch." He pulled you tight in his embrace, eyes closing momentarily, before talking into a deep slumber.

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stuckyslut8 · 1 month ago

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Love's never lost

Part 2

Summary : you were once his true love, the woman he promised the world to. Now he was king steven Rogers and you were a witch, a vile woman hated by the whole kingdom. What happens when he meets you after all these years,he needs your help.

Pairing: king steve rogers x witch reader

Warning: angst. Inaccurate medieval description. Reference to Smut. Dark Steve rogers. Witch reader .

You stood before the king of Brookenhaim. A man of righteousness and bravery to many, but you knew him differently.

You did not bow to him much to everyone's surprise. You stood there just they way his guards brought you.

"the kingdom needs your help witch." Steven announced .

You stood in silence . You knew what they all thought of you, you were nothing more than an evil creature to them. Someone who shouldn't be among them. Yet they wouldn't hesitate running to your apothecary when their children were sick, or men were wounded.

"something has struck my first in command , knight barnes." Steven continues. "We suspect sorcery, he hasn't been the same , turning into a mindless killer ."

"that could just be him." You said ,looking at the blonde king , you knew it would get under his skin.

"that is not him, I know james, he is different now , he doesn't recognise me."

"maybe we should speak in solitude your majesty " you said the last words maliciouly.

"you think we'll trust you to leave you alone with our king?" one of his guards said.

"it's not new to king steven, being alone with me"

That was it, it broke something in steve, his pupils turned dark, he commanded everyone out of the hall with a flick of his finger.

He took a few sharp strides forward, "do you think this is funny witch? Do you want to get yourself killed? "

" is that the worse you can do rogers?"

"i could do much worse, the mercy I've been showing you all these years is the reason the town folk haven't burnt you alive." He said as a matter of fact.

" right, no one would dare to burn one of the king's concubines."

Steven gritter his teeth .

"do all your concubines get the same treatment rogers? A show of "mercy"?"

"stop it, you're not a concubine you know it , stop saying that ." He said pressing you again the wall.

" what's in calling a rose what it is? " You said pushing him back using your magic.

"not a word, i do not wish to discuss of the part that was beyond our control. Now go fix barnes." He said firmly.

"fix him? Use my magic and possibly get killed by a mindless soldier for free?".

"i will pay you in gold."

"50,000 gold coins" you said thinking he won't possible agree to give such a huge sum.

"fine " steven was intresting sometimes.

Bucky was never kind to you , as far as you'd remember. Always trying to keep steven away from you , saying you were a witch and witches can't be with a future king. Steven defied those words of course.

But was he really unkind to you, or was he just protecting you from a broken heart and the harsh truths of the world?

You went to the cell in which the soldier was locked up.

You entered it carefully. "James..." you didn't have time to think before an arm wrapped around your neck, lifting you off the ground.

It was him, "bucky" barnes, as you used to call him. And he was choking the life out of you. You out the first sleeping spell you remebered on him, letting the knight fall to the ground.

You examined him carefully.

"so you're telling me it's not magic of your kind?" The blonde king asked. He noticed the marks in your throat of course but kept himself from saying something.

" no it is the crimson kind, not witchcraft."

Steve thought about it for a moment.

" and there is nothing you can do about it, i suppose?"

" there is a way ."

Steven frowned, his brow furrowed in confusion. "The northern mountains? What could possibly be there that could help us?" He asked, his tone skeptical as he tried to understand your proposed plan.

"there is a plant there that could fire people struck by crimson magic."

"It won't be an easy journey, especially during winter," He continued, shaking his head and sighing. "It's dangerous and cold up there. You sure it's the only way?" His mind was a mix of doubt and hope, torn between the risks and the chance of saving Bucky.

"it is the only chance we have." You say.

Steven closed his eyes tightly, taking a deep breath to compose himself. "Alright," He said, his voice steady. "You'll need provisions, soldiers.I'll have my men prepare what you need. When do you want to leave?"

"i don't need your "men"" you say defiantly.

Steven was taken aback by your response, his eyes widening at your rejection. "Excuse me?" He said, his tone suddenly sharp. "What do you mean, you don't need them?" He tried to contain the growing annoyance in his voice, his patience wearing thin.

"do not wish to be stuck in the mountains with men who thinks they are above me, you don't see the way the look at me? "

Steven pursed his lips, his annoyance turning into a hint of guilt and jealousy . He knew the way his men looked at you, some with disgust some with lust, both of which made his blood boil.

"I suppose that's true," He admitted reluctantly. "But they're skilled. They can help you fend off any dangers on the journey."

"I'm a witch rogers,i can fend for myself"

Steven's jaw clenched at your defiance. "Clearly, you cannot," He retorted, his words sharp and cold. "Your magic is weakened by the crimson I can tell and you're just a woman. You're not going on a journey like this by yourself. End of discussion."

"Since when do you care about my well being ?" Were you really going there? Steven was aooaled by your words.

Steven's features softened for a brief moment, the hint of vulnerability slipping through his stern facade. "I care about my kingdom," He replied firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. "And as much as I dislike it, you're an asset to my kingdom. Your well-being directly impact Brookenhaime's stability. I can't afford for you to be putting yourself in danger foolishly."

"I'd rather kill myself than go up the mountain with your men "

Steven's face hardened once again, his protective instinct kicking in despite his irritation. "That doesn't matter," He retorted, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists. "This isn't a competition of who is better. You're not invincible, and you are not risking your life needlessly ."

"i leave at dawn."

Steven stood there for a moment, his back to the door, a mix of emotions warring within him. Frustration, anger, and something else he couldn't quite identify. He watched you walk out the door.

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stuckyslut8 · 1 month ago

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I'm so very tamed now

Part 2 part 3

summary : your two ' scary ' mob boyfriends interrogate you after finding out you're a double agent.

Pairing: mob stucky x reader (poly)

Warning : 18+ mentions of smut, innuendos, use of gun in a way it's not supposed to. angy steve 😡, sappy bucky. Poly relationship. .Typos

"You're not coming in." Steve told bucky as they stood in front of the room in which you were kept.

"Oh come on sweetheart i need-"

"Last time you came in here to interrogate you ended up fucking her on the table." He said with a dissapointed look on his face.

"That was one time, it wont happen again." Bucky said opening the doors and bursting through, to see you there seated in the interrogation chair, looking at bucky with those eyes.

"Don't give me that look.." bucky warned you." "Whatever happened last time is never gonna happen again."

"And why is that baby?" You asked smirking.

"Because...becuase-" bucky stumbled over his words looking for a good reason.

"Because I'm here with him." The blonde that emerged from the doors just then said with a cold expression on his face.

"We'll see about that rogers. " you gave him a wink.

"Enough with that. " steve said nearing you, using all of his intimidation tactics, which you've seen over a hundred times, "tell me who you work for."

"Right tell him who you work for or I'm gonna have to punish you sweetheart. " the brunette intervened.

"Punish me?" You said with a laugh. "By making me suck on your cock daddy?"

"Really?" Steve asked bucky , almost knowing that's exaclty what bucky would've done.

"What? That usually works with her and you." Bucky said pointing at his boyfriend.

"Grow up bucky." Steve said in an irritated tone, while you were clearly enjoying their banter.

"Now you" steve turned to you, grabbing the gun from his pocket and pointing it under your chin.

"Hey hey hey, what the hell steve, you're gonna hurt her-" bucky said in a panic.

"Shut up barnes." Steve cut him off and looked at you, giving you his most terrifying look.

You looked back at him with a smirk as you moved your jaw and took the tip of the gun in your mouth, sucking on in seductively, almost changing Steve's mind for a second.

"Oh fuck you're getting me so hard sweetheart." bucky said palming his erection, earning a glare from steve as he pulled the gun away from your mouth, muttering curses under his breath.

"What now stevie? You gonna go down on me amd edge me till i answer you?" You said with a innocent look on youe face, "that's what bucky did."

"Hey you're not supposed to tell that to him."

"What the hell barnes, is this how you're gonna interrogate all our suspects from now on? You're gonna suck rumlow's dick too?" Steve questioned his guilty as charged boyfriend, who was looking for another excuse to say.

"Hey in my defense, it almost worked, i would've gotten the words out of her if she hadn't passed out from the edging. " bucky said putting his hands up as if trying to surrender his case to steve.

"God you're an idiot, why am i still with you?" Steve asksd the million dollar question.

"Cuz you love me ." Bucky said as a matter of fact.

Before steve could yell at bucky for turning sappy in the middle of an interrogation, someone knocked at the door.

"Come in."

"Uh sir it's stark he's waiting for you."

"Oh fuck i gotta go, don't screw this up buck." He said giving a warning glare to his lover.

"Don't worry steve, i know how to make our girl talk."

Oh boy you were in for a good time.

A/N : this fic idea just came to my sleepy brain first thing in the morning, I'm thinking of turning this into a fun series uh i mean fun for bucky atleast 🤭.

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stuckyslut8 · 1 month ago

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the chief's mate.

Summary: your newly wed husband orc Bucky has to leave for war immediately,his best friend and the chief of the clan steve offers to take care of you in the mean time.

Warning: (poly relationship?) cheating? Kinda. It's complicated.Smut. Smut . Orc stucky is a warning. MINORS DNI. 18+ .

"but Bucky you can't leave me here...alone i don't know anybody here except you" you plead with your orc husband. It was true you were very new to this clan, and you were not an orc so you had no idea on what to do here and you were pregnant above all.

"I have to go my little witch, for my clan, for my chief steven,for my loyalties lie with him, understand me please" he pressed a kiss to my forhead.

"but..."

"he will take care of you in the meantime, anything you want he will do that for you and our unborn child.." that were his last words as he left for war.

anything you want.... those words lingered in your mind, what did he mean by that . Surely not 'anything ' ,you understand they were best friends and shared everything but not...no way it's not possible y/n ,stop with your fantasies.

Although the chief orc ,the blonde man was making it hard for you to think of anything else.

With the way he would unexpectedly show up to your cottage, asking you if you were doing well, checking on you, resting his hand on your growing belly,kissing it. Last night he even offered to massage your shoulders as you told him youw were feeling very tense.

He didn't do a good job of keeping his hands to himself either, always lingering around you, always brushing past you. Even now as he was talking to one of the maidens sharon ,his left hand stayed around your waist, he was explaining her on how he wanted the feast tonight,it was the feast before the orc mating season, of course it had to be huge .

You just stood there breath heaving, you could feel sharon glaring daggers at you, it was very clear the she wanted the chief, but he always seemed to ignore her , choosing to focus on you instead.

"and that is all sharon you may go " says steve.

"oh alright and what about y/n..." she asked accusingly.

Steve glared at her ,"what about her?" He gritted through his teeth.

"well, uh what will she be contributing to the feast, it's not like her husband is here to hunt and bring meat for the ceremony,nor does she grow any crops ,neither can she cook soo what exactly is she doing-"

"shut up you will not talk of my best man Bucky or his mate that way, Bucky has done so much for this clan and as his wife she can just stay her and enjoy everything, don't ever talk about her like that." Steve said sternly.

"oh im sorry chief steven i" sharon started say.

"apologize to her" said steve

"I'm sorry y/n" she murmured a fake apology as she left .

"you shouldn't have said anything steve its fine.." you say to him, he pulls me closer ,hands going lower on your back till it reached your ass, he gripped it gently.

"what do you mean ,she will disrespect you and Bucky and i should tolerate that , never."

"hmm alright calm down chief" you place a hand on his chest. He moves your hand to his lips and kisses it. You blush at that, you know he's probably being chivalrous.

"i am calm my sweet witch, you're here aren't you, you keep me calm"

"hmm good to know . "Your eyes linger on his lips you knew it was wrong.

Later that night ,you were laying in your bed , unable to sleep, both from the absence of your husband and because your needs haven't been taken care of in a while.you were frustrated.

Just then steve enters your cottage "y/n...?" He calls for you.

"yes steve.."

"there you are sweets.." oh fuck why was he here now.

"what ...do you need something chief?"

"no I came here to check on you sweets, ...still have trouble sleeping?"

You nodded .

"i bet it's lonely for you without Bucky next to you."

"uhmm yes" you look anywhere but at him

"would you mind if I ...kept you company?" Steve asked .

"uhmm you mean..."

"I'll lay next to you, that way you can sleep peacefully."

Say no say no. "yes I guess that would be nice."

So steve got under the covers with you

Steve's arms hold you tight against his chest under the covers, his strong muscles enveloping your body in a comforting embrace. As he lies there in bed with you, his head starts to slowly lower, his nose gently nuzzling against your hair as he processes the situation"A baby... You and Bucky... you're going to have a child together... I just can't believe it. I just...I'm still trying to process the idea of it all..."

"hmn yes it is very exciting steve"

Steve's hands start to slowly wander over your body as he holds you against his chest, his body still pressed against yours under the covers. His hands are gentle and slow as they move over your body, slowly tracing over your arms, your back, and your sides in a comforting manner.

You couldn't help but moan at his touch, you hope steve didn't hear it .

As you let out a gentle moan, Steve's body goes taut again for a moment, his arms holding you against his chest as he absorbs the sound. His hands continue to gently wander over your body as he replies in a low grumble"Hmm? What was that dove?"

"uhh nothing" you tried to brush it off.

Steve lets out a grumbled huff at your response, still holding you against his muscular chest in a tight and protective embrace. There's a hint of teasing in his voice as he replies "You don't want my attention, hmmm? Then....why did you let out that sweet sound?"

"uhh don't be ridiculous, I don't want your attention..."

Steve's long fingers rub your clothed pussy, which was only covered by a thin layer of clothing. "Your pussy needs it , I'm sure ... she's been very lonely." your wetness grows and coats youre clothing, steve is very aware of the effect he has on you.

"no steve ...uhm we can't" you begin to protest, your words die down as steve kisses your neck, lips trialing down your spine.

"shh sweetheart,i know this is what you need, and this is what I promised Bucky , that I'd take care of your every need.."

"I'm sure he didn't mean "every " need..."

"oh yes, every need ...can't let my best friend's wife go unsatisfied now can i?" Steve's fingers travelled to your nub rubbing it skillfully, making you grind shamelessly. "That's it little dove let me take care of you...let me hear those sweet sounds." You couldn't help but moan, steve overstimulated you until you were on the edge, and just as you were about to come he removed his fingers, making you whine.

"tsk what was that little witch? You want more..?" He knew exactly how to play this.

"yes...yes I need to come please, " you begged patheticallly .

"then spread those pretty legs for me, I'll make you come" you did as he asked.

Steve's long orc tongue licked your pussy , making you wet before he started fucking you with it., it didn't take long before you came all over his face. "Fuck now that's what I want little witch," he said licking up every last drop. Of your release, he wasn't done yet he went back to his ministrations again.

"steve please...i can't , we can't - bcuky" it was like a post release Clarity for you knowing this is wrong.

"shh - I know this is what Bucky wouldve wanted , little witch, don't tell me what my best mate would want." He said continuing to abuse your poor pussy with his big tongue but not it felt good that's why you had a hard time explaining to hi.m this was was wrong.

"steve - uhhh ughh"

"shh just enjoy it little witch , I know you need this, and I need you, " he said making you come for the second time .

This time he gathered all your cum with his fingers, pulling down the loin that was covering his modesty, his cock was hard , not as thick as Bucky's but it was longer., he pumped it a few times , lubing it up with your release.

"not sure if you can take me little witch, I'm sure Bucky used your hole so good it's stretched enough but I have a couple more inches than him" how does he know that?

"steve -"

"tell me you want me - tell me you need my cock my sweet witch and I'll give it to you" he said already running his top over your pussy, making it flutter.

"yes please Steve need your cock" you say trying lift your hips to meet his, steve chuckled at your eagerness.

" be more specific, what part of you needs it ?"

"my pussy my pussy needs it," you say as you watched him pump himself once again

"this needy cunt needs my cock huh? Need your chief's cock because you're husband isn't home?" God why does he have to say it.

"yes yes please chief need your cock splitting me open"

"of course sweets I'll give you my cock, after all I'm the chief and need to take care of my clan, especially my best friend's pregnant mate, can't let her go unsatisfied can ?" Steve slowly fucks his length into you, you could tell he was patient and careful you can see it in his face.

"god you're so tight, didn't know witches we're this tight, you know I'm only used to orc cunts this is - fuck look at how you're gripping me" he said as he almost got all of him inside you.

You moan his name. "So good sweet girl, taking me like a good little mate." He encouraged you as you managed to take all of him, steve slowly began rocking in and out of you in a rhythm that was the most pleasurable to you, something you've never experienced your whole life.

"you look so pretty my little witch, so big and round ,growing Bucky's child, ...can't wait till you bear mine..." The sound of his cock pounding into you filled the room. Steve slipped his fingers on your clit, rubbing your nub skillfully making you cum, he didn't stop he fucked you through your orgasm, his veiny cock slamming deep into you.

" you're so good for me little witch, you came so fast, taking my cock like a good orc wife." You moaned at his words, it had been months since you've been touched like this, since bucky left, you needed this.

"fuck I'm gonna empty my seed inside of you little witch, is that alright?" You're suprised he's asking you this while he's so fucking deep in you.

"yes ,yes steven you may " he spilled his hot cum in you, filling you to the brim, he pulled out of your dripping cunt at once. He used his fingers to push the oozing cum back into your hole. "I'll always take care of you my little witch, both you and Bucky belong to me , don't you forget that." You nod.

You laid there in bliss as he cleaned you both up. Steve wrapped his arms around your stomach pressing kisses to it. " Don't worry little orcling, your father's going to be back home soon until then i will be here to take care of both of you." He whispered into your stomach.

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stuckyslut8 · 1 month ago

Text

Pleasure

Pairing: Stucky x F!reader

Warnings: MDNI (SMUT 18+), oral (R+B), sex toys, masturbation, fingering, anal sex, degradation kink, praise kink, threesome, I think that’s it but lmk if I missed something

Length: 1139

Summary: You come back from a long mission to find Bucky and Steve in your bed. What could go wrong?

A/N: Hi! I’ve never written smut like this so any tips would be greatly appreciated! I also must say this: MDNI! 18+ ONLY! I cannot control what you consume so you have been warned!

I do not give consent for my work to be translated, copied, or sold!

You and Bucky agreed that you are it for each other. You couldn’t imagine your life being spent with anyone else. But you both agreed that you wanted to open up your sex lives. So you both agreed that letting Steve join the two of you wouldn’t be an issue. And it wasn’t. Steve may have crushed on Bucky in the 40s but he was over it and everything was purely sexual for the three of you.

So it wasn’t odd for you or Bucky to use Steve when one of you was away on a mission or only two of you could go.

Sweat drips down the boys’ bodies. All they can imagine is your perfect body between the two of them.

“Just thinking about her tight cunt,” Bucky grunts as Steve holds the fleshlight between his thighs.

Holding it with their hands didn’t have the same effect. They want to imagine how perfect you would be between them. With you sitting on Steve, his cock pushed deep into your ass, and Bucky on top of you, his cock deep in your pussy. Steve would thrust up making Bucky’s dick bury itself further into your slick folds.

Steve moans lightly as he holds his cock with one hand, trying not to get off on the image of you. Your breasts would bounce between the two of them, your nipples hardening with pleasure. One hand would be around Steve’s neck and the other would be on Bucky’s chest to hold yourself steady. And your mouth would be wide open with beautiful moans coming out.

“Bucky I’m going to come,” Steve whines, bucking his hips up.

Bucky starts to thrust faster, chasing his release. Quiet moans slowly become loud and messy. Bucky kisses the captain’s neck, leaving bite marks anywhere he feels. Steve moans once again and starts to pump his hand faster. Steve and Bucky start to meet each other halfway, thrusting to find their sweet releases. Until they hear the bedroom door close. They stop their thrusting and turn to the door.

“Don’t stop just because I walked in,” You say as you drop your duffle bag.

The two boys look at each other before starting again. Their thrusts start slow, trying to torture each other. Soon, the room was filled with a slapping sound as their hips began to meet the others and with their loud moans.

You quickly begin to undress, not wanting to miss anymore. You join them on the bed and lie on your back. You spread your legs and start to tease your clit. You can feel how wet you are already, but you don’t want to come too soon.

As you circle your clit, you start to give the boys directions. “Steve, stop touching yourself and stop using the fleshlight.”

Steve whimpers a little before listening to you. With one last pump, he lets his dick out of his hand and spreads his thighs slightly to remove the fleshlight from between him in Bucky.

“Good boy.” You insert one finger into yourself but you don’t start pumping your finger. “Now I want you and Bucky to switch spots but I want Bucky to be on his hands and knees and you to be behind him.”

The two listen to you. Once they’re in their positions, you start to pump your finger in and out slowly.

“Good boys,” You moan. “Now Steve, I want you to use Bucky like he used you.” Both of them moan at this.

Steve scrambles to grab some lube before quickly squirting some onto his fingers. He pushes one finger into Bucky and Bucky shakes with excitement. When Steve adds a second finger into Bucky, you add another for yourself. You and Bucky moan in unison.

The room fills with the sound of you and Bucky getting pleasured and all three of your moans. You continue to follow Steve but stop with three fingers, knowing that you want to use something else to give you your first orgasm.

As soon as Bucky is properly stretched and prepped, Steve slams his hips into Bucky’s ass. You let out a loud moan, seeing your boyfriend being taken by his best friend.

You quickly reach to your bedside table to pull out a vibrator. The hum of the vibrator makes the boys finally look at you. You smirk as you let it collect your juices before pushing it into you. You can see the jealousy behind their eyes.

Almost as if it is a challenge to see who can come faster, Steve thrusts harder and faster into Bucky. He pulls at the slightly overgrown hair at the back of Bucky’s head causing him to moan at the pleasure. You arch your back as the vibrator hits a spot your fingers could never. You grab one of your breasts and squeeze.

Quickly your hips start to move, imitating Steves. The boys continue to stare at how beautiful you look as you continue to chase your orgasm. Finally, your toes curl and your back arches as you let go. Your mouth is wide open as you let yourself moan as loud as you could.

Steve takes this as a sign that he and Bucky can finally let go now that you were taken care of. As you catch your breath, you can hear Bucky start to degrade Steve.

“Stop fucking me like you’re a virgin. We know that you’re the biggest slut here.”

Steve once again speeds up and thrusts harder, almost making Bucky fall. Once you take the vibrator out, you move in front of Bucky.

“Eat me out Sarge,” Bucky smirks at you and bites the inside of your thigh, close to your throbbing pussy.

Bucky uses his nose to his advantage. He nudges your clit with it and you jerk your hips up. He smiles and takes a deep breath, smelling you.

“You smell so good Doll.” He presses his tongue flat on your folds, tasting your previous orgasm. “You taste so good too.” And with that, he slips his tongue past your folds.

You gasp at the pleasure. With Steve thrusting hard into Bucky it’s creating a different kind of friction. You arch your back and grab a fist full of the sheets.

Bucky moans into your pussy. “I’m going to come.”

You lift your hips more, pressing your cunt into his face. You can feel your release building in your stomach, tingles making their way from your head to your toes.

Knowing that Steve is close too, Bucky starts his degrading once more. “Your thrusts are so pathetic Stevie, are you even trying?”

“Do you need me to show you how it’s done?” You mock.

“You might need to get your strap-on Doll, he can’t get me off the way you do,” Bucky smirks up at you.

Steve moans and thrusts two more times and Bucky is putty in his hands. Trying to make sure you get your second orgasm, he thrusts his tongue into your pussy and you come with him.

Steve continues to pump into Bucky until he finds his release, only three more thrusts. He buries his dick into Bucky, making sure every drop stays in. With you catching your breath and Bucky still coming, you decide it’s only fair to clean him up. So you take his cock in your mouth and swallow every last drip, licking whatever drops that landed on his thighs and onto the bedding.

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stuckyslut8 · 2 months ago

Text

Your Time Starts Now

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes / Stucky x reader

Summary: Game night gets a steamy twist when you challenge Steve and Bucky to a private Taskmaster-style competition— with one very intimate goal. One task. One attempt each. Fastest climax wins. But let’s just say both super soldiers are… very motivated to take home the prize.

Expect filthy creativity, intense focus, and a lot of mutual worship— because when these two play, they play to win.

Who finishes fastest? Who makes you scream? Who ends up on their knees? You’ll just have to read and find out!

Genre: stablished relationship | Domestic fluff turned smutfest

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, Oral sex (f. receiving), Use of sex toys (wand vibrator, mentions of gag, cuffs, spreader bar), Thigh riding, Praise kink, Rough sex elements / dominance (esp. Bucky), Soft dom vibes (Steve), MFM dynamics / implied future threesome, Jealousy and competition kink, Consensual power exchange, Minor spanking/bruising mentions, Language (dirty talk, filthy language throughout), Light voyeurism / reader watching Bucky + Steve at the end, Humor and banter laced with smut.

Word Count: ~4.5k

A/N: Biggest shoutout to @navybrat817 and @probablybucky for looking this over and your suggestions!

You were sprawled across the couch, remote resting in your hand, eyes still on the TV as the theme tune of Taskmaster played with the credit roll. A sly grin slowly crept across your face.

“Okay,” you announced, sitting up a little straighter. “So, hear me out.”

Steve glanced up from the book resting on his knee. Bucky shifted on the other end of the couch, his feet were tangled with yours and the bottle of beer was now tilting dangerously in his grip.

“That’s never a good start,” Bucky muttered, glancing over at Steve.

You ignored him. “So we’ve been watching Taskmaster, right? And it got me thinking... what if we did our own version? Just for fun. One task. Winner gets…” You bit your lip, trying to hold back a smirk. “...a special favor.”

Steve squinted at you, a suspicious look on his face. “What kind of task?”

You bit your lip again but you couldn't hold back a grin, your eyes gleaming. “Can’t tell you.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Why not?”

“Because that would ruin the challenge. You’ll each do it separately— one at a time. I’ll give you the task when it’s your turn. No advance prep, no watching each other, no comparing notes.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “This is not what I thought you meant when you said ‘game night.’”

You grinned wider. “You’ll go one at a time. The other person has to stay out of earshot so no one cheats or gets inspired. It’ll be fair. Objective. Very official. Stopwatch and everything.”

Bucky leaned forward, eyes narrowed like he was trying to read your mind. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“I am,” you admitted, a smug smile on your face. “Now. Who wants to go first?”

Steve

You led Steve into the bedroom, wearing a rather conservative robe. He had no idea that you were totally naked underneath. You closed the door behind you. He was clearly a little nervous, not because he doubted himself but because he always took everything so damn seriously. That focused crease between his brows said it all.

You’d gone all out for the occasion— picked out proper stationary, folded the card just right, sealed the envelope with a red wax stamp that was worthy of little Alex Horne. Steve deserved the full Taskmaster experience, after all.

He sat on the edge of the bed, eyeing the envelope with wary amusement. It was placed on a satin cushion ready for opening.

He raised a brow. “You really committed to this, huh?”

“Read it out loud,” you advised, stepping back to watch.

Steve broke the seal carefully— of course he would— and unfolded the heavy paper with a reverence usually reserved for mission briefings. His eyes skimmed the page, and you saw the exact moment it hit him. He looked up at you and you saw a flicker of heat behind that all-American composure.

You arched a brow. “Out loud, Rogers.”

He cleared his throat, voice steady but already warming. “Make your girl climax. You have one attempt only. Fastest wins.” He paused. Then, with a tiny, crooked smile: “Your time starts now.”

You barely had time to set the stopwatch.

Because Steve— your Captain freaking America— rose like this was sacred duty, and you were the nation in need.

He had a focused look on his face, that determined crease between his brows, like he was cataloguing every sound and shift you made. He knew how to read your body like a map that he had memorized and still revered.

He walked you back towards the bed, a man on a mission. His shoulders were squared and jaw set. His eyes were locked on yours with that quiet unshakeable intensity he had always had. Like you were everything to him.

He didn't move immediately, watching you, soaking in your essence. Then, he took a step forward until he was pressed against you and he spoke. Low and measured. “Is this okay?”

You know he knew the answer. But he asked anyway because that was who Steve was. Even here— even now— he sought your permission like being with you was a privilege, not a right.

You nodded, your voice soft. “Yeah.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, a flicker of a smile touching his lips. As though your trust was the greatest gift he had ever been given.

Oh so slowly, he knelt down in front of you, his large hands slowly sliding up your calves, the pads of his thumbs brushing over your skin in wide, adoring strokes. His touch was warm and steady, it wasn't possessive, it was protective. It was one of the things he did that turned you on and he knew it. He touched every inch of you to remind you that you were safe. That you were cherished.

“Sit on the bed, darling.”

He coaxed your legs apart with a gentle insistence, sweeping away your silky robe without his hands never leaving you, his eyes still locked on yours. When he looked down, it was only to watch his own progress— to admire the way your body responds to him.

Steve had a quiet confidence. He knew what you responded to and he knew that if he was calm and consistent, he would have you coming in record time.

His palms skimmed up your thighs, and he made a quiet, appreciative sound in the back of his throat. Not because he’s thinking about what he’s going to do to you— but because he was in awe. Of you. Of this. Always.

His fingers dipped inward, tracing the lines on the inside of your knees, before gliding up with excruciating patience, like he was learning you all over again.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he breathed.

His lips followed the trail his hands had made— soft, peppered kisses along the inside of your thigh, before going up again. He lingered in places people normally didn't, mapping you with his mouth like he was savoring every taste, every touch. He nuzzled closer, his breath warm, but he still hadn’t touched where your body ached for him most.

He pressed a kiss to the soft curve where your thigh met your hip. And another. Then one more. His nose brushed your skin and he inhaled deeply before letting out a slow breath. Almost like he was grounding himself.

“Everything about you,” he murmured, “your skin, your scent, the way you breathe when I get close… I could do this all day.”

He glanced up at you as you moaned, his gaze steady and pupils blown. “Will you let me?”

And God yes, you would. You’d let him do anything, especially when he looked at you like that. Like you’re not just a lover. Like you were his to treasure.

You shivered under the weight of it— of his touch, his words, his gaze— and your body ached with anticipation. Not because he’s rushing you toward release, but because you already felt like you were falling apart by how seen he was making you feel.

He leaned closer, that dangerous gleam in his brilliant blue eyes. And you braced yourself for it— for that first stroke of his tongue— but instead, he spoke.

“Oh darling, look at you. Trembling already.” His voice was low and woven with the kind of pride that made your chest tighten and your pussy leak. “That’s good… so good. Means you want this. Means you trust me.”

It wasn't cocky. It wasn't him teasing. It was reverent. Grateful.

You gasped when his tongue finally grazed the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. But it still wasn't quite where you needed him. But it was close enough to make you whimper. He hummed softly at the sound from your mouth, his lips curling up against your skin.

One hand came up to cup the back of your knee, urging you to open wider. And you did as you were asked. Utterly helpless under his touch.

His other hand glided upward, slow and certain, grazing along your waist, under the sash of your robe, then up over the swell of your breast. The Captain didn't grab, didn't squeeze. He held you. A firm, grounding touch that rested over your ribs, right where your heart was pounding its hardest.

Just as you were revelling in the feel of his calloused touch, he kissed you— right there— the loving press of his lips.

Once. Twice.

“That’s it,” he murmured between kisses. “Sweet girl. So good for me.”

Your hips twitched. It was instinctive, and he chuckled against you— not mockingly, but tender, like he loved that you couldn’t help it. That your body answered to him before your mind could catch up.

“Stevie,” you mumbled, softly encouraging.

He started to build a rhythm with his tongue, slow and sure. Each thick stroke was deliberate. Each pause intentional. He didn’t race toward the end. He savored you. Like you were his only focus in the whole world. Like he wanted to commit this to memory.

His hand on your hip tightened— not to pin you down, but to anchor you. To keep you from drifting too far from the pleasure swelling inside you. And he kept talking. Kept your focus on him. On his actions. On the building pleasure

“You taste like heaven, darling.”

You whimpered and your thighs started to tremble as his tongue delved between your folds and found your clit.

“Look at you,” he said, his voice vibrating with adoration against your dropping cunt, “already so wet. You’re making this too easy, darling.”

He pressed his mouth harder against you, tongue flicking your sensitive clit in just the right way, and your back arched off the bed in response. And his praise didn't stop there. In fact, your moans just goaded him further.

“You’re doing so well. Can you take a little more?”

You nodded frantically, words lost to the pressure building deep in your core.

Then, finally — fucking finally— he slid a finger inside you. Just one. Just enough. It was slow and smooth, unhurried— he played your body like he had it memorized, and when he hit the note that made your breath hitch, he made a low sound in his throat. A pleased little groan, like your pleasure was the best thing he had ever felt. Another finger slid in.

“That’s it,” he whispers, curling his finger just right. “That’s perfect. Let me take care of you.”

Your breathing turns ragged. Your hips shifted to meet him, seeking more, and he gave it, without hesitation. Another stroke of his tongue, rougher now. Firmer. In sync with the rhythm of his hand. The coil inside you winding tighter and tighter until you were right on the edge, trembling under his mouth, your hands fisting the sheets.

And he felt it— knew exactly what you needed.

One more deliberate flick of his tongue. One more gentle thrust of his fingers. One more whispered command that unraveled you completely.

“Let go for me. Come on, sweetheart. Let me see you fall apart.”

And you did. With his name on your lips, your body arched into him, splintering around the crest of that overwhelming wave. He didn’t stop— not until he’d felt every last tremor, until you were wrung out and breathless, and still gasping his name like a prayer.

Then, and only then, did he ease off— slow and careful, like he was afraid to let go too soon. He kissed the inside of your thigh again, murmuring something soft you couldn’t quite hear, and rested his forehead against your flesh.

“You did so good, darling. So damn good. But stop that clock, will ya?”

Bucky

You handed him the envelope without a word, just like you had with Steve. Same sexy robe. Same setting. Same rules. Fresh panties.

But Bucky was different. He took the task from you with a knowing little grin, his metal fingers brushing yours. “What’s this, sweetheart?” he asked innocently, already tearing the flap with those quick, clever hands. Then he read it aloud in a low husky voice.

“Make your girl climax. You have one attempt only. Fastest wins.”

There was a pause before he let out a dark laugh.

“Fuckin’ hell, love,” he muttered, licking his bottom lip as he tossed the envelope aside carelessly. His eyes immediately dropped to the curve of your thighs under your silky robe, pupils already blown. “You wore this for me, huh? You’re lucky I got any self-control at all, lookin’ like that.”

“You need to say the last bit,” you said, breathlessly.

You shifted under his gaze— his whole body language had changed, almost predatory. Tension coiled in his shoulders, sharp and hungry.

“Your time starts now,” he growled, closing the distance in two long strides, he gripped your hips, and pulled you against him with a rough, effortless tug.

You could feel just how hard he was already.

“Stevie hates it when I use you like a fuckin’ ragdoll,” he breathed heavily against your neck, voice low and filthy. “Hates when I leave bruises on those perfect thighs. But you like it though… don’t you, doll?”

He leaned back just enough to let his eyes flick over the room… and spotted the toys scattered near the bed. His brows lift, grin turning sharp.

“You naughty little minx,” he smirked.

He stepped back a touch, just far enough to let his eyes rake down your body, and he dragged a metal finger from the hollow of your throat to the sash at your waist, pulling it apart with a single flick.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he said, tone low and rough, “you into this? Gag, wand, cuffs— fuck, is that a spreader bar?”

You hesitated— just half a breath— but it was enough.

His smirk widened.

“You don’t gotta answer.” He leaned in, nose brushing your cheek, inhaling deeply. “I can smell how wet you are. Jesus, sweetheart.”

He pressed a kiss to your jaw, before taking a little nip at it.

“I can use this, right?” He picked up the wand.

“All the information is on the task, Buck.”

“Alright, I’ll play your game. One attempt, huh?” His thumb brushed your bottom lip. “Then I better make it count.”

He kissed you— deep, dirty, demanding. Tongue claiming you, hand sliding into your hair. By the time he pulled back, you’re breathless, dazed, and his grin is feral.

“You look fuckin’ edible in that little robe.” His eyes flicked to the wand lying momentarily discarded near the edge of the bed. “And that’s comin’ with me.”

He pushed down his pants before grabbing the wand. He dropped onto the edge of the mattress, dragging you between his legs. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the tension, like a fuse already lit.

“C’mon, doll. On here.” He patted his thigh with a glint in his eye. “Want you ridin’ my leg while I hold this right where you need it. Gonna win this the right way.”

You hesitated— just for a breath—and he tilted his head to the right, that metal hand gripping your hip.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice filled with a dark amusement. “Shy now? After layin’ all these toys out like you’re beggin’ me to use them?”

He tugged your robe open slowly, deliberately, and groaned. “Fuck me, you’re soaked already.” He pressed his face against your neck, breathing you in.

Bucky huffed out a dark, satisfied sound against your neck— part groan, part growl— and you felt it vibrate through his chest, through you. His hands slid around your thighs and hauled you up effortlessly, guiding you until you're straddling his leg, the muscle beneath your folds solid and thick and already slick with your arousal.

“There we go,” he murmured, voice rough with promise. “Look at you. Dripping all over me and I haven’t even started touching you yet.”

He flicked on the wand, and the low hum immediately set your nerves on fire. You reached for something to balance on, but he was already there— one arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you in tight, while the other brought the toy just to the edge of where you wanted, no— needed it.

“Nah,” he drawled, pulling it back slightly, eyes gleaming with mischief and heat. “Not yet. You wanna win, doll? Gotta earn it.”

“You’re the one competing here, Buck. Not me.”

He set the wand aside just for a second— not forgotten, just delayed—and tilted his thigh up, grinding it between your legs.

“C’mon, ride it.” His voice is a low command, thick and dark. “Rub that sweet little pussy on me while you beg for the real thing.”

You start to move, and fuck, the pressure’s maddening. His metal hand slides up your spine, holding you firm as you rock against him, while his other presses warm and steady against the small of your back.

“God, you feel that?” His teeth grazed your jaw, followed by the gentle scratch of his salt and pepper stubble. “So needy for it. Stevie probably played all sweet, huh? Took his time. Wanted to win like a gentleman?”

The wand was suddenly back— nestled between your thighs. Still off… for now.

“But see, I’m not a gentleman.”

His tone dropped darker, filthier.

“I’m gonna wreck you. Gonna use this until you’re shakin’, cryin’, maybe even beggin’ me to stop. But you won’t, will you? You’ll beg me to keep goin’, like the desperate little doll you are.”

You whimpered, hips stuttering against his thigh, and he finally flipped the wand on.

Low at first— just to tease. You jolted.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “There’s my good girl. Let it build. You know I could make you come in a minute flat if I wanted to— but where’s the fun in that?”

The wand lifted to a higher setting.

He had completely forgotten the timer. Forgotten the rules. Or morley likely, he just didn’t care anymore. Because he was watching you unravel with the utmost attention. Watching your thighs tremble, your mouth part, your hips grind.

“Faster, baby,” he growled, “ride it. Want you to soak me. Want you to scream so loud Stevie’ll hear it through the fuckin’ walls.”

And when your legs started to shake, that’s when he really turned it up. Bucky saw the way your thighs were trembling, the way your nails dig into his shoulders. His whole expression morphed into something hungry… focused… possessive.

“Oh, you’re close, sweetheart,” he purred, voice dripping with lust. “I can feel it. You're right there, grindin’ like a good little slut— so fuckin’ pretty when you fall apart.”

The wand kicked up yet another setting— stronger now, nearly overwhelming—and he held it right there, pressed firm against your clit, angled just right, while his other hand molded you into him, keeping you from shying away from the intensity.

“C’mon, doll,” he growled, jaw tight, eyes fixed on yours. “You wanna win? Then come for me. Come now.”

You cried out—hips jerking, breath catching—and that’s when it hit you. Hard. You come with a shudder so sharp it knocked the air right out of your lungs. Your thighs locked up, your back arched, and your moan is nothing short of wrecked— raw, high-pitched, desperate.

“That’s it,” Bucky snarled, holding you through it, not letting up. “God, look at you— makin’ such a fuckin’ mess, just from my thigh and a little toy. Didn’t even have to fuck you to ruin you, did I?”

You’re shaking— body limp and sweating against him— and still he didn’t move, didn’t ease off, not just yet.

“One attempt only?” he reminded you with a wicked grin, brushing hair from your damp, flushed face. “Good thing I made it count.”

He finally clicked the wand off, tossing it aside, and wrapped both arms around you, holding you close against his chest, now slick with your sweat. He picked up your discarded stopwatch and tapped the stop button with a small sigh.

“Might not’ve been the fastest,” he murmured against your ear, lips brushing your skin, “but I’m pretty sure I won anyway.”

Then he kissed your temple, and added with a low chuckle— “Bet Stevie didn’t make you scream like that, huh?”

Taskmaster

You were draped across Bucky’s chest, legs feeling completely boneless and breath still coming in uneven gasps, when the door swung open.

You tensed— just slightly— but Bucky didn’t even flinch. He casually moved between your thighs, gentle now, wiping you down with a warm, damp cloth he had grabbed from the bathroom barely a minute ago. His metal hand stroked your knee, soothing, while his eyes flicked up lazily toward the doorway.

“Hey, Stevie,” he grinned at the captain.

Steve froze mid-step. His gaze immediately dropped to you, lying on your back, flushed and wrecked, robe hanging off one shoulder and then to the wand Bucky just wiped on his jeans and set down down on the dresser. His jaw tightened.

“You’re early,” Bucky smirked casually, like he didn’t still have his hand between your thighs.

Steve didn’t answer right away. His eyes were locked on the toy— then on you— then back again on the toy.

“A wand?” he asked, tight-lipped.

“C’mon, Stevie.” Bucky tossed the towel onto the nightstand and stood, running a hand through his hair like he hadn’t just ruined you. “Nothing in the rules prohibiting the use of aids.”

Steve's eyes narrowed.

“They were on the dresser for you, baby,” you said sweetly, turning toward him, still breathless but trying not to let the nerves show. “You could’ve used them if you wanted.”

His gaze softened as it landed on you, but the tension in his shoulders didn’t fully dissipate. There was something in his face— disappointment, the simple desire to win, or did you detect a flicker of jealousy behind his blue eyes.

You slid off the bed, your legs like jelly, and pulled the robe around yourself, tying it tight around your waist.

“We should go announce the winner,” you said, trying to lighten the mood. “Come on. Living room.”

You led the way, your hand slipping into Steve’s as you walked. The two super-soldiers fell in behind you— Steve a little too quiet, Bucky smug as hell.

And you? You were walking like you’ve just survived a warzone.

You settled into your corner of the couch, robe riding up over your thighs. You folded your legs underneath you. Steve stood by the wall with his arms folded, trying to look casual— but the muscle twitching in his jaw gave him away. Bucky lounged at the other end of the couch, legs spread, shirt still undone, face still smug.

You let the silence stretch for just a second longer, before you sighed dramatically.

“Okay,” you start, drawing both their eyes. “So. Points for each of you.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, grinning. Steve shifted his weight from one leg to another.

“Stevie,” you said sweetly, turning to him first. “You were so focused. No distractions. Very efficient.”

He straightened a little.

“I loved how you kissed me first. How you held me. Like you wanted to savour it, but you were still trying to win.” You held out your hand for Steve to come and sit beside you, which he did, albeit with a small reluctance. As soon as he was sitting beside you, you wrapped his arm around your waist and leaned into him. “You always make me feel loved.”

Finally, Steve’s face softened and a small smile crept across his lips. You cupped his cheek lovingly and pressed a soft kiss on the edge of his lips. You paused, slipping your hand into Steve’s before you let your eyes drift slowly toward Bucky.

“Then there’s you.”

He smirked. “I’m listening.”

“You came in like a wrecking ball. Dirty mouth, wandering hands, already picking out your weapon of choice before I could blink.”

“You liked that, though,” Bucky said, clearly still in a mood.

“Mmhm.” You rolled your eyes but your smile gave you away, “you used the wand and made me ride your thigh. That was…” You trailed off, eyes distant for just a second. “Creative. Intense.”

Steve huffed but Bucky beamed.

“But.” You held up a finger. “You got a little… distracted, didn’t you?”

Bucky’s grin faltered. “I mean, you were kinda moaning like—”

“Fastest wins,” you remind him. “You forgot that halfway through.”

Bucky shrugged, totally unrepentant. “I was busy enjoying myself.”

“I know,” you murmured, shifting in your seat. Then you looked at Steve again. “You, on the other hand, finished the job. Quick. Thorough. No extra help.”

The tension in the room was thick now and you let your gaze flick between them.

“So. By the rules… the winner is…”

You trailed off again, letting the silence build, watching Steve’s shoulders square and Bucky tilt his head like he was daring you.

“Steve!”

Steve blinked, surprised. Then smirked, just a little, shoulders relaxing.

Bucky groaned. “Oh, come on. I made you scream. You begged me to—”

“You did,” you interrupted, licking your lips. “And I’ll be dreaming about it for days. But the game was fastest, Buck.”

He threw his head back with a dramatic sigh. “This is rigged. You liked mine better.”

You winked. “That’s not the point.”

Steve was still smirking when he leaned in and kissed your cheek. “I’ll take my victory graciously, darling,” he muttered in your ear.

Bucky muttered under his breath and slumped back against the couch cushions with a petulant scowl. “Punk.”

“Oh, come on, don't be a jerk,” Steve said, glancing over at him with a glint in his eye.

You watched the way Steve's hand slid from your waist, over to Bucky's thigh, fingers spreading into a firm grip.

“And since we are a team,” Steve added, his gaze moving to Bucky, “I think it’s only fair the loser shows some appreciation for the winner.”

Bucky arched a brow, recognizing the tone instantly. “Yeah? Captain’s orders?”

Steve shrugged, smirking lightly. “You gonna follow them, honey?”

Bucky’s eyes flicked to you. You were biting your lip, pulse quickening, watching the silent challenge unfold.

He huffed a laugh, pushed himself up from the couch, and dropped to his knees between Steve’s legs with a roll of his eyes and a low, muttered, “Fucking hate this.”

“No you don’t,” you teased, scooching aside to give them room, eyes wide and greedy.

Bucky glanced up at Steve, who was already leaning back against the couch, legs spread, gaze heavy-lidded. Then he looked at you and smirked. “You just gonna watch, darling?”

Your lips curved. “For now.”

Steve cupped Bucky’s jaw, thumb stroking the edge of his cheekbone. “Be good,” he said quietly.

Bucky scoffed, voice rough. “You’ll be lucky if you’re still coherent.”

And as he leaned in, you settled back against the cushions— heart pounding, robe slipping open at the thigh again— and thought, best game night ever.

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stuckyslut8 · 2 months ago

Text

Watched what's your number last night and been obsessed with colin. You really captured him .

𖤐The Witch Next Door𖤐

Pairing: Colin Shea x Female Reader

Warning: Piv. Unprotected sex. Masturbation. Language. Body Fluids. Blowjob. Smut. Fingering. Oral Sex. Friends with Benefits. Friends to Lovers. After Care. Fluff. Angst. (Tell if I miss something)

Date: Friday, May 21, 2025

Author's Note:

Chapter Six: Period Kit and Rainy Rhythms

𖤐Chapter Seven𖤐

𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐

At morning, you stirred first, groaning as you blinked into the daylight filtering through your curtains. Your leg was thrown over something warm—firm, solid, and suspiciously breathing. Colin. Your eyes adjusted just enough to see the mess you've made of the bed—blanket halfway off, Nyx sprawled at feet, and a arm locked tightly around his waist like you've been using him as a body pillow. His eyes fluttered open, catching you stirring before you realized he was awake. He was already aware of your leg draped over him, your arm possessively around his waist. A slight smirk tugged at his lips as he noticed your death grip on him. He reached up to stroke your hair. You whined and his smirk widened as you nuzzled into his touch like a damn cat. He pulled his arm out from under you carefully. You mumbled a protest in your sleep, trying to drag his t-shirt back down to cover your thighs again. He chuckled softly, watching your hair fan across his pillow. "Morning,” came his rough, sleep-heavy voice, deep and scratchy in the best way.

"Did I drool?” You asked, voice still hoarse.

"Nah." He ran his thumb along your jaw, studying your face in the morning light. For someone who had literally used him as a personal mattress last night, you looked pretty damn cute. "Though you did steal all the covers and kick me in your sleep a few times."

You was about to tease him back when you shifted slightly—and his hand, which had been resting casually on my hip, tensed. Colin's eyes dipped downward. “Oh,” he muttered and you followed his gaze and saw it: a new blood patch on the front of your pale pajama pants.

“Ah, hell,” you sighed, flopping your head back on the pillow. "I’m the human embodiment of a crime scene.”

His gaze remained glued to the blood stain on your pajamas. Instant concern etched into his features. He slowly slid his hand under the hem of your pajama shirt, pressing gently against your stomach. "Baby..." His voice was low, worried. "Let me help."

Rolling your eyes playfully, you "let him" pull you to your feet, dragging your blanket behind you like a cape. Your body ached less today, but the fatigue still clung to your bones. In the bathroom, he helped you peel off your pajama pants—no weirdness, no tension—just calm, practiced care. "You sure you weren’t a nurse in a past life?" You asked, stepping into the shower as he reached for the handheld sprayer. He smiled, turning on the warm water, crouching down and spraying between your legs gently to clean you up. "Maybe in another life I was. I sure as hell know what to do with a woman's pussy now." He pressed a soft kiss to your inner thigh before continuing to clean you up gently with the warm spray and your eyes widened, looking down at him.

"Did- you just kissed my thigh? While cleaning me up from my period..?"

"Yeah, I did." He looked up at you, his expression soft. "I love taking care of you. Even when you're bleeding." He leaned in and kissed your thigh again, more firmly this time, before standing up and turning off the water. "Come here."

He stood and pulled you into his arms, wrapping a fluffy towel around you and holding you close. "Put it on your gorgeous brain, I don't care about any of that stuff. Blood, cramps, mood swings, whatever. You're still my girl. And I'm still gonna kiss you, hold you, and take care of you."

"God, you're too good to me, it's annoying.." You chuckle as he take you out of bathroom, handing you a fresh pair of underwear with a pad. You wear it and after drying you off and getting your comfiest shorts, you two made your way back into the kitchen. You tugged on a cropped hoodie, tying your freshly re-braided hair in a loose bun while Colin cracked eggs into a pan. You sat on the counter, feet dangling, Nyx pawing lazily at your toes. "I know I already asked before but you’re really not grossed out?” you asked after a moment, watching him expertly flip a slice of toast.

He glanced over at you while flipping another slice of toast onto a plate beside him. “Baby,” he said calmly as if explaining something simple yet profound. “If being grossed out means not being able to handle something natural about women’s bodies—then yeah—I’m not grossed out. And you're still hot and terrifying.”

You snorted, with a smiled, full and sleepy and real.

Colin placed a plate in front of you with eggs, toast, and a slice of cheese. “Now eat, Bloody Mary.” he said as you glared playfully, flipped him off but took a big bite.

He chuckled, watching you eat hungrily like he liked. He finished making his own plate and walked around the counter, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before sitting beside you on another stool. Suddenly, he had an idea and turned to face you. "Hey."

"Bring it on" you looked at him while chewing your toast.

"What if," he started, looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. "I made you a period kit. You know, with all the stuff you need, so you don't have to worry about it. And I could even put a little love note in there or something."

"Period kit? That's.." you tilted your head softly mid chewing and giggling. "I don't even know what to say, but you meant snacks and pads?"

He smiled, finding your fuzzy warm reaction adorable. "Yeah, snacks for cravings, pads, maybe some warm pads for cramps, chocolate, ginger ale, those heated thingies you put on your stomach... And yeah, I'll throw in some cute notes too." He paused, watching your reaction closely. Huffing, you propped your elbow on the counter and resting your chin on your hand.

"You're specially sweet this morning, I may puke if you get me emotional."

He threw his head back laughing. "Jesus, baby. No romance there." He grinned. "You know what I just realized?" He asked, stealing a piece of your toast to eat. "You get super honest when you're either really sleepy or on your period." He laughed again.

"I'm always brutally honest.." you said, stealing the cheese from his plate. "True," He agreed with a smile. He stole another piece of your toast. "No filter. I like that. You're one of those girls who says what she thinks without caring if it's rude." He chuckled. "God, you're like a guy."

You brust out laughing. "'Like a guy'? How so? I should be offended or amused? I don't even know"

He laughed with you. "Amused, definitely amused. I meant it as a compliment, baby. I like girls like you - straightforward, honest, no bullshit. Like a man's dream woman." He winked at you before stealing another piece of your toast. You smirked before answering. "Well, I'm not into bragging but.. I guess I'm a real nice package."

You placed a messy kiss on his lip, he hummed against your lips, smiling as he kissed you back messily. "The best package," He murmured against your mouth before pulling back to steal one last piece of toast before you could slap his hand away.

𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐

A day later. You sat cross-legged on the floor just outside your apartment, back leaned against the wall, thumbing ruthlessly at your phone screen as gunfire echoed from your 'Free Fire' match. Your brows furrowed in concentration, tongue peeking slightly from the corner of your mouth as you wiped out another squad. Beside you, Nyx batted her squeaky mouse toy across the hall, the sound echoing down the otherwise quiet corridor. Rain lashed against the windows, the storm showing no signs of stopping. You had knocked on Colin's door about ten minutes ago, but no answer. Lights off. Apartment quiet. “Maybe he went out…” you murmured to yourself, not looking up from the screen. “Or maybe he died watching another Fast & Furious movie out of order.” Then—steps.

Your ears perked at the wet slaps of someone jogging up the building stairs. You glanced over and saw him—Colin—coming up the last few steps, completely soaked through, his hoodie plastered to his skin, a few strands of his hair dripping onto his forehead. His guitar case was slung over his back like a moody warrior returning from battle.

“Holy baby cow,” you stood, phone forgotten. “You look like a sad indie song.”

Colin looked up as he reached the top of the stairs, water dripping from his nose and chin. He saw you standing there in the hallway, looking concernedly adorable in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, phone forgotten in your hand. He walked towards you, guitar case slung behind him, a crooked grin on his damp face. "Went to rehearsal. Waited for the rain to stop. It didn’t.” Nyx, delighted, trotted up to him and meowed loudly, weaving between his legs, leaving behind tiny black-cat hair offerings on his damp jeans. Colin looked down at you, still smiling despite the water dripping from his chin. Then without warning, he took your hand. “Come on. I’m gonna shower before I die.” he said and you followed him in, Nyx trotting behind like a pint-sized chaperone.

Colin led you into his apartment, kicking off his wet shoes by the door. He set his guitar case down with a soft thud and turned to face you, his hand still holding yours. Nyx had already made herself at home, curling up on the couch to continue her endless nap.

"Go shower before you die.." you said, giggling and laying down on his bed.

He chuckled, releasing your hand to start unbuttoning his soaked hoodie. "Smartass," He muttered affectionately before disappearing into the bathroom. The sound of the shower turning on filled the apartment. You lay on his bed, scrolling through your phone aimlessly as you waited.

“You ever thought of getting one of those clear umbrellas?” Playfully, you called out over the sound of water coming from his bathroom.

"Nope. Too glamurous, not really my style," He called back, his voice muffled by the shower. You could hear him laughing as he stripped off his wet jeans and boxers, leaving him naked under the spray. He leaned his head back against the cool tiles, letting the water wash away the grime from rehearsal and rain.

The shower cut off a few minutes later. I heard the rustle of a towel and then— “Achoo!”

Another sneeze.

Then another.

Colin appeared in the hallway, toweling his hair with one hand, his sweatpants riding deliciously low on his hips. His nose was red. "Okay,” you said, standing and pointing at you. “You’ve officially unlocked Hot Musician with a Cold energy. Do you want soup or to be force-fed honey and lemon?”

He sniffled, rubbing his red nose with the back of his hand holding the towel. God, he really was fucking cute when he was sick. "Mmm, honey and lemon sounds good," He walked towards you, his voice hoarse. "And can I get a kiss for being sick?"

"Awwww you look too cute.." you looked at him with a adorable face before smirking and continuing. "But not, you saw me at my period, seeing me sick and with runny nose is a thing I want to avoid."

"Smartass," He muttered again, wrapping the towel tighter around his waist. "Damn right, there's nothing sexy about a runny nose," He laughed softly, sniffling again. "You know what's gross? When girls get sick and their noses run and their voices get deep."

"See? You already saw me bleeding from my uterus, we already reached a high level of embarrassment, we can avoid this one." Giggling, I walked over and pressed the back of your hand to his forehead. “Hmm. A little warm.” and he raised a brow.

“That your veterinary degree talking or your instincts as a very bossy woman?”

“Both,” you said sweetly, already walking to his kitchen. “Sit. I’ll order pho.”

He obeyed, sitting at the kitchen table and watching you move around the kitchen with such ease it made his heart ache. Like you belonged here You were so fucking perfect. He leaned back in the chair, feeling the warmth of the towel against his bare skin as he waited for the pho and your caring touch. “Baby?”

"Yup?"

He looked up at you, his eyes red and tired but filled with affection. “Thank you for taking care of me. I know I can be a brat, but you always know how to handle me and make me feel so loved.” He smiled softly, his nose twitching again as he sniffled. You winked, walking and catching up everything on his kitchen like a professional, Nyx immediately hopped onto his lap, purring in a comforting buzz. Colin sneezed again, and you peeked out from behind the fridge.

“Bless you,” you said. “Also, if you die, can I keep the guitar?”

He laughed loudly, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “You little shit,” He muttered affectionately, hugging Nyx tightly. He looked back at you, grinning. “Yeah, you can have it. I’ll leave you my entire damn collection in my will but you have to promise to cry at my funeral and not wear underwear.”

You smirked. “Done deal.”

He chuckled, feeling the warmth of Nyx against him. He looked up at you again, his eyes softening. You made him some soup, pouring into a bowl, before joining next to him, sitting by the table, in front of him with my legs crossed on lotus position.

"Be careful, it's a little hot"

He looked at the steaming bowl appreciatively, though his eyes lingered on your position for a moment longer than necessary. He cleared his throat. "Thanks, doc." He reached out to take the bowl carefully, wrapping both hands around it. "How does a person even do..."

You frowned softly but he just shook his head. "Never mind." He took a spoonful of soup, blowing on it gently before taking a sip. He looked at you sitting there like that - legs crossed, shirt riding up slightly, showing off your flat stomach - and suddenly had an idea."Hey doc?" He called softly.

"What's wrong?"

"I was thinking..." He paused, looking at you thoughtfully. "I was thinking that you're way too pretty to be sitting like that." He took another spoonful of soup. "Come here." He patted his lap invitingly and you moved to the edge of the table, legs open on each side of him. He wrapped a hand on your waist, pulling you closer as he continued to eat the soup. He nuzzled his face against your stomach, inhaling your scent deeply. "Mmm... this is better." He mumbled, spooning some soup onto your stomach instead of eating it himself and you giggled, feeling the warm liquid touching your skin.

"What the heck are you doing?"

He looked up at you with hungry eyes - not for soup. He pressed a warm kiss to your stomach where the spoonful of soup was. “I’m being playful.” He pressed another kiss, licking up the soup estaically like a cat as you rolled your eyes playfully before looking down, watching him "feast" on your stomach. He glanced up at you with a smirk, intentionally being overdramatic. "Mmm, delicious..." He continued his playful feasting, occasionally glancing up at your face. "You know... this soup is actually quite good." Another kiss. "But it tastes better on you."

"You know what?" Smirking, you watched him licking your skin, making you feel warm, your toes curled and your back arched sightly against him. "I think if you go lower, you may find something even more delicious.."

He raised an eyebrow, looking up at you with a mischievous grin. "Oh really?" He pressed one more kiss to your stomach before sliding his hands down your sides. "Well... I should definitely check that out." He slowly moved his hands lower, hooking his fingers on the edge of your shorts and you quickly lifted your hips enough to help him pull it down teasingly. His eyes locked onto yours while he tossed them aside before leaning back down and kissing your inner thigh. "Right here?" He kissed the other thigh. "Or maybe here?" His kisses got closer to your center until finally landing directly there. You moaned softly, eyelids fluttering as he landed his lips on my center, placing a kiss right above your underwear.

"I think..." He whispered against your skin. "I think this lace needs to go." He hooked his fingers under the fabric of your underwear. "Do I have your permission?" He looked up at you, his breath hot against your most sensitive spot. "To taste you properly?"

"I'm yours.." you answered, shamelessly needy.

His eyes flashed with desire at your words. With a gentle but firm pull, he removed your underwear completely before spreading your legs wider over his shoulders. “Fucking right you are.” His voice was hoarse with lust before he finally buried his face between your thighs without any more teasing. “Mine.”

You moaned, leaning your head back when he finally dipped into your pussy, your calves resting on his shoulders while he savoured you, kissing it with mastery, making you grip the edge of the table. Your moans made him hungry. He spread your legs wider and lifted them higher, giving him better access. He spread your lips apart with his thumbs and attacked your clit with his tongue, sucking hard and making you cry out loudly. He was noisy too, making hungry noises as he tasted you deeply.

"Fuckk.. I love when you do that- aah!" You said, lifting your blouse to cup one of your breasts, massaging then pinching your hard nipple, eyes glued on Colin, watching each flick of his skillfully tongue.

Watching you play with your tits while he ate your pussy was almost too much. He growled and spread your legs even wider, pushing them almost painfully high. He licked up your center slowly then speared his tongue inside you, making you arch your back and cry out again.

"Finger me, pleasee" you begged, rolling your hips in his direction and he happily obliged, sliding one finger inside you while continuing to latch onto your clit with his mouth. He curved his finger upwards, hitting your g-spot perfectly as he finger-fucks you slower then faster, matching the rhythm of his tongue on your sensitive bud. He adds another finger, stretching you wider, turning up your moans. The sight of you writhing beneath him, chest heaving, back arched - absolute heaven. He crooked his fingers again, this time sucking harder on your clit while fucking you with his hand, wet sounds coming from his finger penetration, and you felt your walls clenching, your body started squirming, tugging his hair to hold him in place.

"I know baby, I got you." He continued finger-fucking you faster and sucking your clit harder, feeling your walls clamp around his fingers tightly. Your moans grew louder and desperate, pulling his hair tighter. He could feel you were moments away from exploding. "Come for me, love."

And with a silent scream, your eyes rolled inside of your head as you laid back on the table, coming undone on his mouth, wetting his fingers with your juices.

"COLIN!"

He swallowed every drop of your orgasm, his fingers pumping into you as you convulsed around him. The taste of you was addictive and he didn't want to stop. As your orgasm finally subsided, he slowly pulled his fingers out, licking them clean with a satisfied groan. "Fuck..."

𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐

Smiling and breathing heavily, laid down on the table, exhausted, recovering your breath and the normal functions of your brain, you looked at him as he stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked down at you with a soft expression, tracing your features with his eyes. "You're so fucking beautiful like this." He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, sharing the taste of your release with you. You wrapped tight your arms around his neck, exploring his mouth with your tongue, savoring your taste on him and wrapping tight my legs around your waist.

The kiss was slow and deep. He pulled you closer by your hips, letting you feel his hard cock pressed against you. When he finally broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours. "I need to be inside you." His voice was husky with desire and you nodded excitedly, breaking the kiss briefly, while pulling down his sweatpants with your feet, struggling a little.

"Take it off"

Without breaking eye contact, he pushed his sweatpants down to his ankles, stepping out of them. His thick, hard length sprung free, slapping against his stomach. "Better?" He gripped the base of his dick tightly, squeezing to ease some of the pressure. Smiling, you looked up at him, bringing your fingers up to your lips, licking them before wrapping around his sharf, jerking him slowly, watching shamelessly.

"Damn, even your cock is gorgeous.."

He groaned loudly at your words and the sight of you stroking him. The head of his dick was already leaking pre-cum, and he could feel himself getting even harder under your touch. He reached down and grabbed your wrist, stopping your hand.* "Enough teasing." He said roughly while you smirked, looking dangerous. His eyes darkened with lust as he saw your smirk. He knew that look meant trouble, and he fucking loved it. He grabbed his cock and rubbed the head against your entrance, teasing you with just the tip. "You want this cock, don't you?" He asked huskily and you whined, nodding, needy, rolling your hips, seeking for more.

He chuckled lowly, pressing just the head inside you before pulling back out. He did this again and again until you were begging. "Say please." He commanded, rubbing your clit with his thumb while holding himself steady inside your entrance.

"Mmmm and what if I don't?" A dangerous smile was on display in my face, you couldn't resist, you loved playing sexy games, your eyes closed, feeling he rubbing your clit too damn good. His breath hitched as he felt your walls squeeze around the head of his cock. He knew you were close to begging, and he loved pushing your buttons. "Then I'll keep teasing you until you can't take it anymore." He said darkly, pinching your clit hard between his fingers.

"AAAH FUCK-" You screamed, nearly choking on your moans when he pinched your throbbing clit, causing a warm electric shock through all my nerves. "Damn Colin, that's playing dirty, babyy." He smirked wickedly, knowing he was getting to you. He pushed forward slightly more, giving you just a little more of his length while continuing to rub your clit. "Maybe I am." He leaned down and captured one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking hard. "Now say please."

"Gezz.. please please please" you beg, spreading my legs wider invitingly, looking at him full of submission and lust, a almost pornographic vision. A satisfied groan escaped his lips as he finally slid all the way inside you, filling you completely, making you both hiss. He maintained eye contact, watching how your expressive face showed every sensation. "Goddamn, look at you..." He started moving slowly, torturing you with deliberate long strokes.

You looked at him while he slowly stroke his cock inside of you, moaning low, prepping yourself on elbow to watch his member sliding in and out of you. And damn, he loved watching you watch him fuck you. He picked up the pace slightly, going deeper each time he thrust forward. His balls slapped against your ass with each movement. "Touch yourself." He ordered, his voice strained with effort to hold back.

Smiling, you quickly bring your hand to your bundle of nerves, rubbing it with tight circles that made you sob through your moans. He watched your small hand work your pussy, his member going in and out of you. He saw your body language change as you touched yourself, your back arching more. He knew you were close to making the sexiest damn sounds again.

"Fuck babe, I'm going to milk your cock so good.." you moaned.

His eyes darkened with lust at your dirty talk. He loved it when you talked like that. He thrust harder, faster, his hips slapping against yours. "Fuck yeah, milk my cock." He growled, his balls tightening as he felt his orgasm building. He fucked you hard, your and his moans and groans filling the kitchen, the familiar coil started building on your lower belly, your muscles tightening and you rub yourself faster, feeling desperate to come undone.

"Colin.. please.."

His thrusts became erratic, losing rhythm as he felt you tightening around him. The sight of your fingers working your clit pushed him over the edge... "Fuck... I'm gonna..." He reached down, pushed your hand out of the way and pressed hard on your clit with his thumb. He was over the edge. He thrust deep and hard, holding himself there as he came, filling you with his hot cum. He rubbed your clit in tight circles, matching your moans with his own grunts of pleasure. "Fuck yeah... here it comes..."

He kept rubbing your clit as he felt you coming undone around him. Your walls pulsed around his cock, milking out every drop of cum he had. He leaned down to kiss you deeply, swallowing your moans as he continued rubbing your sensitive nub until you were completely spent.

Undone, trembling and arching your back, your eyes watering while milking and clenching around his throbbing member, feeling him fill you amazingly. He groaned deeply, feeling every pulse of your orgasm around his cock. He stayed inside you, not wanting to pull out just yet. He kissed you gently, his thumb still softly circling your clit, drawing out every last shudder of pleasure.* "Jesus Christ," he murmured against your lips.

"You're-" You sigh deeply, recovering your breath before continuing. "Fucking amazing, Colin."

He smirked, still gently stroking your clit. His cock twitched inside you, not ready to leave just yet. "You're fucking beautiful when you come," He whispered in your ear before kissing down your neck, making you shiver.* "Best fuck of my life," *You smiled low, tired, holding him tight while kiss through your neck. He hold you, lifting you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he took you to the couch and you two fucked one more time before napping, you on top of him and his hands wrapped around your waist, skin-skin and happy smiles.

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