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simplyholl · 6 months ago

Text

Filthy

Summary: After a long mission, Bucky needs you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY.

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"Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" Your sweet voice replayed over and over in his mind. He hadn't flat out refused your offer, but he hadn't said yes either. Now as he laid under the rubble of the bomb Hydra had detonated, it was all he could think of.

You were friends, one of the only people besides Steve to make him feel welcome on the Avengers. The others were wary of him, and he didn’t blame them. He had done unforgivable things as The Winter Soldier. Now he was fighting for the right cause. He couldn't help the reoccurring nightmares of the horrors he encountered in his past. He didn't want to get too comfortable in his new life, the one Steve helped him obtain because he was scared The Winter Soldier was still lurking around in his brain somewhere.

That's why he never dated. Sam would tease him, telling him he could have anybody he wanted, but he settled for his hand every night. Bucky couldn't afford to get too close to anyone. Especially someone who was weaker than him like the opposite sex. He was scared he would lose control while being intimate and hurt or even kill his partners. So he never let anyone get too close, until you.

You came bouncing into his life unexpectedly. You were brought on the team shortly after him. He would never forget your first day. Steve introduced you to everyone at the morning meeting. You were all smiles, your bubbly personality instantly drawing him in. The others were making comparisons between the two of you immediately. You were so happy, so upbeat all the time and Steve was the only one who could get Bucky to crack his cold exterior and actually smile.

Despite your differences, you got along great. Which was a bonus since Tony liked to pair you together for missions. You worked well together, complimenting each other in ways you had never thought of. Who knew almost dying together every week can cause you to form close bonds? You were spending all your free time together. You introduced him to your favorite films, some of them were awful, but he would never tell you that. You would stay up late together watching old reruns of 90's sitcoms for comfort after long missions. Bucky would go shopping with you, holding every bag you had and never complaining.

The team thought something was going on between you. Why else would the cold super soldier follow you around like a lost puppy? They put Steve up to asking about it, but Bucky denied anything but friendship. There had never been anything happen in the whole year you knew each other. You never sat too close or crossed any boundaries, never thought about it until a month ago.

One of the longest, most dangerous missions you had ever been on finally came to a close. There had been too many casualties and you were upset. Even the comfort of your warm pajamas and favorite movie didn't ease your mind. Bucky thought you needed to be alone, so he told you goodnight and headed for his room. You called after him pleading him to stay with you. You couldn't be alone, not after that.

He hesitated, he never stayed the night with anyone because of his nightmares. Tony even gave him a pass when a mission required room sharing. He was the only one who didn't have to pair up. He was afraid he might hurt you or scare you during his sleep. He tried to tell you, but you couldn't be swayed. He found himself under your fluffy pink comforter on heart shaped pillows, surrounded by a mountain of stuffed animals but he felt oddly at home.

You tried to cuddle up to him, but he scooted away. He didn't want you too close to him while he was asleep just in case he had a nightmare. But you didn't care. You told him if he attacked you in his sleep, you would blast his dick off. That made him a little less worried. "How do Tony and Clint do it?" You asked as you wrapped your arms around him, trying to snuggle the grumpy super soldier. "Do what?" He relaxed a little under your touch. "The whole normal family thing. They have a wife, kids, the works, and they are the only ones. The rest of us can't keep a relationship for more than a month, and some only do one night stands. It's hard being a hero when you have to give up stuff like that."

Bucky considers your words carefully. "Is that something you want?" You throw your leg over him, trying to get comfortable. "Eventually, I want to settle down. I'm thinking at least ten years from now, not any time soon. It's just hard to tell who is asking you out for the right reasons or because you're famous. I can't tell you how many phones I've destroyed after dates because they were trying to live stream the whole thing. Is that why you don't date?"

Bucky tenses, explaining how his past as The Winter Soldier scared him away from anything like that. "So you haven't been having sex because you're scared you will hurt someone?" He nods and you giggle. Bucky looks at you like you've grown a second head. "I'm sorry Bucky, that's ridiculous. Your arm must be so tired! Oh my God! Do you use the metal one?" His silence makes you laugh harder. "Bucky there are super powered women you could have been sleeping with this whole time. People who could at least put up a fair fight if something like that happened, but you're okay now right? I thought the code words didn't work anymore." You rub his back soothingly.

You gasp as an idea hits you. "Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" It was like word vomit. You didn't mean to say it out loud, but you couldn't take it back now. Bucky is so still that you think he's fallen asleep. Thankful he didn't hear your unhinged suggestion, you lay your head down to go to sleep.

"You mean that?" Bucky asks after a few minutes of silence pass. "If it wouldn't hurt our friendship then, why not? I trust you. And I could hold my own if things went sideways. Plus, I'm a lot hotter than your hand, you have to admit that." The quip earned a chuckle from him. "Can I think about it?" He asks, his seriousness taking over. "Of course." You snuggle back into him, sleep finding you more quickly than you would've liked. That was a little over a month ago, neither of you brought it up afterward. You figured he didn't want to hurt your feelings, so you let it go.

Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand helping him to his feet. "I thought we lost you back there." He says leading him to the quinjet. On the ride home, Bucky thought about his life, how unhappy he had been lately. He thought of you and how he kept you at arm's length to protect you from himself. You were always so open to him, always letting him know what was on your mind. When you suggested the two of you sleep together, he was shocked. Of course, he wanted to but he couldn't. You were too sweet, he was jaded. He would end up hurting you somehow, he was sure of it. But you weren't scared of him, you trusted him.

Bucky thought of all the times he laid alone at night, masterbating when he could have went home with someone instead. He always turned them down, he couldn't risk it. He lived too dangerously. He could lose his life any moment saving the planet from the next alien attack. Wasn't it time he started living for himself? He had his mind made up when the quinjet landed. Steve told him to go get the cuts on his face and arm examined but he ignored him.

He almost ran to the elevator, not bothering to wait for Steve to get on before pressing the button to shut the doors. When it finally stopped on his floor, he walked by his room, stopping three doors down right outside of yours. He should have cared that it was three in the morning, that he would be waking you up, but he didn't. He tapped on the door loud enough to wake you.

He regretted coming straight here as he waited for you, he should have went to his room to shower first. His leather jacket was dirty and torn. There was a small gash on his arm that had finally stopped bleeding. His face was filthy and according to Steve, he had a cut there too. He probably looked terrifying. He thought about leaving to clean up, but then he heard the pitter patter of your feet as you approached the door.

You pull it open slightly at first, to see who is outside, opening it wider when you see him. He steps inside as you shut it back, locking it behind him. Bucky looks around the dark room noticing the glow from your tv. Your hair is messy, you must have been sleeping fitfully. His gaze drops to your body, you're wearing a black t-shirt that stops at your hips and black lace panties.

"Are you okay?" You ask taking in his disheveled appearance. You turn to get something to clean his wounds, his vibranium hand catches your wrist. "Bucky? What hap-" He picks you up with one arm, holding you close to his body as his lips crash into yours. He walks you to the edge of your bed, tumbling on top of you as your back hits your fluffy pink comforter.

"Do you still want this?" He asks, his voice rougher than he intended. You can't think clearly, not with him on top of you, caging you in like this. His blue eyes search your face as he waits for an answer. Your panties grow wetter with each second that passes. Your nipples are peaked under your shirt, desperate to be touched as you press your chest to his dirty leather jacket. "Yes" You somehow manage to whisper your confirmation.

His mouth is on yours again, rough and demanding, almost desperate. You cup his face with your hands, "Slow down, I'm not going anywhere." You assure him, breaking the kiss. He groans, hating the loss of contact. "Can't" He rasps, his face nuzzling against your neck. He nips and kisses the sensitive skin there, his tongue licking from your shoulder to your jaw.

His flesh hand travels to your chest, rubbing his thumb over your clothed nipple. He keeps kissing his way back down your throat until he reaches the collar of your shirt. His metal arm grabs the top, slipping underneath to get a good grip on it. He rips it down the center with little effort.

You gasp as the cold air hits your now exposed chest. But you're not cold for long, Bucky's lips capture a nipple between his lips tugging and sucking like his life depends on it while his flesh hand toys with the other one. You're not sure what has gotten into him, you never expected it to be like this, like he needs you.

He kisses a trail down your stomach to your panties. They aren't exactly see through, but they don't hide anything either. His vibranium fingers dig into your hip as he lowers his face, his pink tongue licking up the center of your soaked panties. You whimper underneath him, your fingers sliding in his hair, pulling at the short strands.

He grunts as he licks you through the lacy material. You try to close your legs around his head, hoping to bring yourself more relief. Bucky's steel grip on your hip tightens as he brings his flesh hand to your thigh, pulling it off him. He opens you wide, continuing his desperate assault on you. "I need more, please." You whine, needing to actually feel him against you.

He thankfully takes mercy on you, removing his hands to grab both sides of your panties. "Lift your hips for me." You do as your told, and he slides the unwanted garment off of you. He drags you to the edge of the bed, lowering himself on his knees in front of you. He parts your thighs, metal hand returning to its rightful place on your hip. You place your leg over his shoulder, taking a deep breath as the anticipation makes your skin prickle.

His hot breath on your soaked core makes you tremble. You feel him smirk against you. "I havent even touched you yet and you're shakin' like a leaf." A dark chuckle escapes him and he dives in. His tongue flat against you as he gathers your slick, bringing it to your clit and swirling it around. He moans, loving the way you taste. He wraps his lips around your most sensitve part, drawing you in, causing your hips to buck upward.

His grip on your hip tightens, a bruise beginning to form under his thumb. "Be a good girl for me. Stay still." His voice is soft, gentle, a complete contrast to his actions. He alternates between sucking you roughly and licking you slowly. You squirm underneath him, you're so close. He suddenly stops, removing his face from you.

His flesh hand rubbing your stomach, before laying his arm on you forcefully to keep you from moving. "I said stay still." He growls, his tongue swiping your clit before he sucks it between his lips once more. It takes every ounce of concentration you have to not writhe against him. You've never seen him like this so needy, almost feral. He's like a wild animal slurping you down like you're the first thing he's eaten in weeks. You don't dare to disturb him. So you lie as still as you can, letting him have you.

He needs this. He needs you. He flicks his tongue expertly over your clit, sendng you spiralling. He holds you down as he takes all he wants from you. He's not satisfied until you come three times. Your legs are wobbly, you couldn't get up if you had to. Tears stream down your face from how intense it was. He finally stands, unbuttoning his pants, sliding them down just enough to free himself.

He adjusts himself between your legs, filling you up. You gasp, grabbing onto his grimy leather jacket for support. You wonder why he didn't bother with getting undressed, but you don't mind. You love how dirty he is. How the filth on his jacket rubbing against your bare chest is the sexiest thing in the world right now. How you can see the cut on his arm, dried blood on his sleeve. You don't know if it's his or some Hydra asshole's, and you don't know which is hotter.

His hair is disheveled. His face is scraped, dirt from the mission caked on him, remnants of your arousal still on his mouth. He fills you completely over and over, holding you as close as he can. His pants rub the back of your thighs as he pounds into you. You caress his face, "Can I be on top?" You ask quietly, afraid you'll offend him some way in his feral state. He flips you so his back is on your mattress. Normally you would be upset that your sheets were getting dirty, but you didn't mind at all. You place your legs on either side of him, sliding down his length. Your ass hits the fabric of his jeans as you take all of him.

You look behind you noticing how big he looks on your bed. His leather boots covered in mud, hanging off the edge. A gush of arousal floods his lap, his hands hold your thighs, pulling you closer. You begin to lift yourself up and down on him, your legs still shaky from your earlier orgasms. Bucky notices you won't be able to keep it up for long, so he clutches your hips, taking over. He thrusts underneath you, your hands land on his shoulders needing to steady yourself. You love that it's giving the illusion that you're in control, your body on top of his, but he's calling all the shots, moving your body like he owns it.

You've never felt so full. It's as if Bucky can read your mind, his flesh hand pressing on the bulge he's making in your stomach. He works you harder now, his vibranium thumb coming between you to swirl your clit. Your vision goes blurry, stars bursting behind your eyelids. You come with a loud cry of his name. He follows shortly after, spilling inside you. He holds you close, as you listen to his breathing slow down as he drifts off to sleep while still inside you.

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theorist-fox · 2 months ago

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Simon has feelings he doesn't acknowledge, until he does.

Word Count: 800

CW: sweet smut

Masterlist 🦊

If anyone were to ask—yes, Simon’s as heavy as he looks. And all those muscles and bulk are now folding you in half, knees next to your ears and back dipped into the mattress.

You’d like to elaborate further on how the hell the two of you had gotten here, but Simon’s already fucked you on his desk. Picked you up, pressed you backwards, and made sure the paperwork he'd been slaving over for the whole afternoon would stick to your spine as he screwed your brains out.

If you peeked above his shoulders, you’d see them still there, on the polished wood of his desk. Which consequently means that there is nothing in your skull right now, just shreds of your brain absorbing the resounding slaps of his skin to yours, and bits and pieces of your consciousness floating in a fog of bliss.

Simon has never been particularly talkative during sex, only yielding sparse grunts or stuttered pants. Minimal sounds, really, especially when compared to the gentle croons you breathe in his ear, or the lovingly placed kisses at the hinge of his jaw.

However, in spite of the obvious imbalance, you never push for more.

The last thing you want is for him to step even farther out of his comfort zone. The lack of clothes and balaclava is already a great show of trust. The way he's pressing down on you, nose to nose, is a testament to the safety he feels in your presence—and it's enough for you.

But.

...It's just sex, isn't it?

He says it every time, ensuring you get it through your skull by adding a firm look to the sentence—one of those that curdle the blood of novices and enemies alike.

It's just sex, he says, but the more this whole unlabeled thing goes on, the slower he fucks you. Less and less are the times in which he takes you from behind, favouring the sight of your face instead.

It's just sex, but then he always kisses you when he cums, huffing heavily from his nose to catch his breath because his mouth is busy tasting something softer, and he doesn't seem eager to move away.

It's just sex, or whatever he tells himself, but he always insists you stay over, because not even the barracks are safe to walk alone at night—he's a soldier, knows what it means to see a bird like you, uniform or not, on her own at night. He's wary and distrustful of the likes of him.

It's just sex, and yet now he's grabbing you ever so gently by the jaw, redirecting your focus to his eyes. His mouth puffs warmly directly onto yours—humid breath you taste on your tongue and down your throat. His hips jerk downwards, meeting your sex in long, deep thrusts that have his cheeks turn pink and his eyes glossy.

He burns holes in your irises until you're forced to blink your eyes a little wider—enough to give him the same (unexpected) attention he's giving you.

His eye twitches.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he croaks in one breath, so harshly you think he's had to wrench it out of his chest.

Your heart stops. You're not quite sure, and he doesn't even give you the time to register it that he says it again.

"You're beautiful," he breathes to your mouth, shoulders hunching over as if he's surrendered to his own statement.

He's buried in so deep, pelvis flush to where you're still achingly sensitive and blissfully raw, that you're not sure whether his words are the ones snatching the breath from your lungs, or if it's the relentless way he plunges back in each time he draws back.

Simon shifts so that your legs can slowly fall down the rigid angles of his hips. You sigh as the ache in your hamstrings abates, and wrap your thighs more comfortably around his softer waist.

He studies, uncharacteristically captivated, each fine line he can find on your face, each wrinkle and dotted scar, each freckle and mole blending in your skin. Pitch-dark eyes trace your features as if he's never seen them before, as if it's the first time he does.

"Fuckin' hell," he croaks, sounding much softer, giving in.

And his hands come to cradle the back of your head, lifting it up from the plush of the pillow. He nestles in closer, and slots his lips with yours, guiding your bodies to slide against one another.

"You're beautiful."

It's just sex, he says, but then he kisses you as you cum, and he follows soon after, whispering praises you've never heard from him before, but ones that feel familiar all the same.

And he calls you beautiful, over and over, with the velvet brush of his lips on yours.

You're beautiful, he tells you—for the rest of the night, and the ones to come.

#im back from the dead #with something mid #but something nonetheless #I need him to give in and love me #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #cod #call of duty #ghost x reader #drabble #cod fluff #cod smut #call of duty modern warfare #fanfic #smut #x reader #foxy

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witchywithwhiskey · 3 months ago

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assembling legos in avengers tower

pairing: captain america!steve rogers x shield agent!female reader

summary: you want to spend a night assembling legos with steve rogers, but when he proves to be too good at it, you have to get creative.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established relationship, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, teasing, begging, dirty talk, praise kink, captain kink, pet names (buttercup, daisy, sunflower, honeysuckle), lots of kissing, lots of fluff and silliness, avengers tower shenanigans

word count: 4.9k

a/n: this fic is entirely inspired by a conversation i had with my therapist last week where she was helping me think of things to do to disconnect from social media and give myself a break from the world. i mentioned i had a box of lego daffodils i hadn't put together and she encouraged me to do that. however, i finished those in like a couple hours and now i need more... anyway, i hope y'all enjoy this bit of fluff/smut and i hope it's a nice distraction from the world!! ♡

“A daisy for my pretty girl.”

You were focused on assembling a plastic version of a queen anne’s lace when a pretty pink Lego gerbera daisy appeared in your eye line. Steve Rogers’ comfortingly deep voice and the flower he offered dragged your attention from what you’d been doing and you looked up for the first time in half an hour.

You were curled up on the couch in Steve’s suite, assembling Legos in Avengers Tower on the rare night off he had from his duties as Captain America. He’d been sitting beside you, working away at his own flowers on the coffee table, but had clearly decided to get your attention with the pink daisy he’d finished.

For a moment after you looked up from your own Lego flower, you were distracted by just how good Steve looked in a simple white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. He always looked good, of course, but there was something especially delightful and attractive about seeing him in casual, cozy clothes.

It almost made you want to abandon the Lego wildflower bouquet you were assembling together and slide into his lap. Suddenly, all you could think about was burying your fingers in his soft blond hair and having his sparkling blue eyes focused entirely on you for the rest of the night. But instead, you blinked and refocused on the moment.

“Aw, thank you, captain,” you murmured, a smile curving your lips as you took the plastic flower from Steve and gave it a pretend sniff while batting your lashes at him. “My favorite.” Your words were little more than a purr, and you couldn’t help the way your smile widened when a pink flush dotted Steve’s cheeks.

It was on the tip of your tongue to suggest that you and Steve leave the rest of the Lego bouquet to be assembled another time, but then your gaze fell on the nine already-finished flowers that were neatly lined up on the table in front of the couch. Your smile fell.

Steve had already put together more than half of the flowers that had come in the box, and you still hadn’t finished a single one. Briefly, you were confused about how he’d put them together so fast—until you remembered something that often slipped peoples’ minds when it came to Captain America.

Everyone knew that Steve Rogers’ strength and stamina were enhanced when he’d been given the super-soldier serum in the 1940s, but most folks forgot that his intellect had been heightened as well. It was why he was the trusted leader of the Avengers—Steve had a knack for strategizing in the midst of battle.

It also made him a wiz at puzzles.

You should’ve known that Steve would easily zip through his half of the Lego bouquet while you toiled over a single flower. You knew he was smarter than the world—and even some of the other Avengers—gave him credit for, and you were disappointed in yourself for not thinking through the idea of assembling Legos together.

Fortunately (or unfortunately), Steve was also much more perceptive than most gave him credit for, and he noticed your change in mood immediately.

“What’s wrong, daisy?” Steve asked, cupping your cheek in his large palm and turning your face gently to look at him.

His brows were drawn together, and you knew instantly that he’d caught the slightly crestfallen look on your face. Before you could muster a smile and assure him everything was fine, Steve went on, his thumbs brushing your cheeks in a gesture so achingly soft, a lump of emotion formed in your throat.

“Did I do something?”

“No, no, no, it’s nothing—really,” you said in a rush, trying to shake your head and show him that you were being silly. But your reaction only had Steve frowning even more.

Gently, he scooped you up off the couch and deposited you on his lap, arranging your body so you sat across his thighs, your legs curled up while he wrapped one arm around your back. Once you were settled, he cupped your chin in his other hand and tilted your face up so he could look into your eyes.

“Tell me, sunflower, please,” Steve rumbled, his final word a rasping plea that tugged so effectively at your heart, you couldn’t help but do as he so sweetly asked.

“I just thought we’d spend a little more time working on these together, that’s all,” you mumbled, dropping your gaze to the corner of Steve’s mouth, which was turned down in a slight frown. You wanted to reach up and smooth away that unhappy curve with your fingers, but you knew it wouldn’t work. Steve could be stubborn when he wanted.

“I’m sorry, buttercup,” Steve said in a hushed, regretful voice, ducking his head and pressing an apologetic kiss to your forehead.

You let out a soft, happy sigh as your eyes fluttered closed and you sank into the warmth of Steve’s body, snuggling deeper into his chest. You were wearing one of Steve’s sweatshirts and a pair of leggings, so you weren’t necessarily cold, but you enjoyed the heat that emanated from him all the same.

“It’s ok, Steve, really,” you whispered, meaning the reassuring words more than you had a moment ago. Your thoughts were already straying to what you and Steve could do with the rest of the night alone in his suite…

You tipped your face up toward his, pouting your lips in a wordless plea for a kiss.

A chuckle rumbled deep in Steve’s chest moments before his lips brushed against yours. You could feel the smile in the gentle press of his lips, and your mouth curved in an answering smile, a giggle building in your chest at how silly the two of you must’ve looked—smiling at each other with your lips pressed together.

But then Steve’s mouth pressed more firmly to yours, kissing you a little harder and a little longer, and the smile slipped off your face, your fingers curling into the soft cotton of his t-shirt. You tugged him closer as he deepened the kiss, his lips sliding slowly against yours like he had all the time in the world and didn’t want to do anything other than kiss you.

The two of you sank deeper into the kiss together, your bodies growing heated and your hands beginning to wander. A hard bulge nudged against your thigh and Steve groaned into your mouth, and you suddenly had an idea.

Pulling away from Steve, you ended the kiss abruptly, a grin spreading across your face as you watched the big, blond man blink his way back into the present. He looked so cute all dazed out from kissing you that you took a moment to appreciate it before voicing your idea.

“I know how to make it more difficult for you to put Legos together so fast,” you said, your voice slightly wheezing as you worked to catch your breath. “We just need some more Lego flowers.”

Steve’s kiss-swollen lips curved into a smile of his own. “I think we can manage that, honeysuckle,” he murmured, his expression filled with affection as he took in the excitement on your face. “Just one more kiss first.”

He reeled you in for another slow, drugging kiss, his mouth stealing the smile from your lips, though you were happy to give it to him if he kept kissing you like it was all he wanted to do.

A little later in the evening, Steve’s suite in Avengers Tower was piled high with dozens and dozens of boxes filled with Lego botanicals of all sorts. There were boxes for sunflowers and daffodils, two types of flower bouquets, and even a whole heaping pile of cacti and succulents.

It was more than you’d ever know what to do with, but Steve looked so pleased with himself, all you could do was smile. If he wanted to spend the rest of his nights off with you, assembling Lego flowers, who were you to complain? It sounded like a dream come true.

“Bought out everything from the Botanical Collection at the Lego store over on fifth,” Steve was saying proudly as he opened a couple daffodil sets, pouring out the plastic packages onto the coffee table while you watched him with amusement. Steve cut his eyes to you and smirked as he said, “I put it all on Tony’s card—d’you think he’ll notice, buttercup?”

You couldn’t help yourself, you tossed your head back and cackled at that. You knew, as a member of the Avengers’ SHIELD support team, that Tony Stark had given all the members of the team access to his credit cards “for emergencies only,” and you were frankly surprised no one else had thought to use it to prank him before.

When you finally got yourself under control and looked back at the mischievous Captain America, you shook your head at him. Your heart gave a little extra thump of delight when you saw the way Steve was looking at you, with so much happiness and affection, it made emotion clog your throat. It took you a full minute to gather your thoughts enough to answer his question.

“Nah, there’s no way,” you scoffed, but then you tilted your head to the side and really thought about it. Your eyes trailed over the boxes. There were just so many.

You figured Tony would leave something boring like financial statements to Pepper Potts, but there might be another way for Steve’s late-night Lego shopping spree to be used as a way to prank the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist…

“Y’know, he might notice something when Lego flowers start popping up all around the tower,” you said slowly, cutting your eyes to Steve and offering him your own impish smirk. “Do you wanna see how many we can put in his lab before he says something?”

Steve’s head tipped back and he gave a great, booming laugh that filled all the corners of his suite. When he looked back at you, his blue eyes were sparkling with playfulness and his mouth was spread in a wide grin.

“You’re diabolical, daisy,” he rumbled, pulling you closer on the couch so he could catch your lips in a kiss.

It didn’t last long, both of you were too busy laughing to deepen it, but you did throw a leg over Steve’s thighs so you could sit in his lap. When you finally pulled away, you quirked an eyebrow at him.

“You up for the top secret mission, Cap?” you asked in a deceptively serious tone, the corners of your mouth flickering as you tried to hold back your grin. “You gonna help me prank Tony Stark?”

“Gladly,” Steve declared, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you closer.

All the evil plans that had been brewing in your mind disappeared when your heated core settled against the thick bulge in Steve’s sweatpants, a delighted gasp tumbling from your lips. Your gaze found Steve’s and a thrum of desire pulsed between your thighs when you saw how much his eyes had darkened.

“But first,” he murmured, his hands sliding up your back beneath the sweatshirt you wore, making you tremble deliciously in his lap. “I’d like to hear more about how you’re planning to make it more difficult for me to assemble all these Lego flowers.”

Steve’s mouth captured yours in a searing kiss and it would be another long few minutes before you were able to actually tell him what you had planned for him.

“Hah! Another daisy done,” you crowed, bouncing a little on Steve’s lap and dragging a deep groan from the man beneath you.

The movement of your body had shifted his cock inside you, his thick, sensitive length dragging against your warm, inner walls, which were hugging him tightly while you exulted in your accomplishment. You’d managed to finish seven flowers since you’d put your plan into action, and you had no idea what kind of progress he’d made.

You did, however, know he was enjoying himself, if his deep moans and muffled groans were anything to go by. There was also the way his cock throbbed inside you every so often, like his body was encouraging yours to move, even though the point of your plan had been to sit still on his lap.

It had come to you earlier in the evening when you’d felt his hard bulge against your thigh—the only way to slow down Captain America’s super-soldier-enhanced intellect was to distract him. And you’d come up with the perfect way of distracting him.

Once you’d explained your plan to Steve, he’d been all too eager to enact it, sitting on the floor in front of the couch and pushing down the hem of his sweatpants so his cock had bobbed free. You’d discarded your leggings and panties before lowering yourself down on his lap, taking his thick, hard length deep into your pussy while you straddled his legs.

For the next half hour or so, you’d been assembling Lego wildflowers on the couch cushions behind Steve’s shoulders and he’d been working away at his own box of daffodils on the coffee table—all while trying not to get distracted by the way your pussy was dripping all over his thick cock.

Leaning back so you could catch Steve’s eye, you grinned at the pinkness in his cheeks and the slightly hazy look in his blue eyes.

“You doing alright, captain?” you asked teasingly, your fingers trailing along Steve’s sharply cut jaw to turn his head so he’d look at you. His blue eyes were dark with lust as he blinked them into focus, a snarl of barely held restraint in the twist of his soft mouth. “It’s been a little while since you gave me any sort of update on how your flowers are coming along.”

You clenched your inner walls around Steve’s cock on the word ‘coming’ as a way to taunt the large blond man, and were satisfied by the way he grunted in pleasure, his eyes sliding closed. Plastic clattered on the coffee table when his hands abandoned the daffodil he’d been assembling to grab your hips, like he couldn’t stop himself from touching you any longer.

Steve huffed a laugh as he opened his eyes again, catching your gaze and groping your soft flesh a little roughly. He smirked when your mouth fell open and your eyes went heavy-lidded, his strong fingers working their way down to your ass as he kneaded your curves the way you liked—possessively.

“When you said you had an idea to make things more difficult for me, I thought you meant a blindfold, or hiding the directions,” Steve rumbled, his smirk turning playful and mischievous.

His expression was your only warning, but you didn’t have a chance to prepare yourself.

“Not this.” He thrust up from beneath you, slamming deep into your dripping pussy.

A moan wrenched free from your lips, pleasure bursting through your body at the friction of his cock dragging against your inner walls, the tip bullying against a spot inside you that had you seeing stars. You collapsed against Steve’s broad chest, gasping for air as you recovered from the single, brutal thrust.

It had been difficult to ignore the constant, throbbing perfection of Steve being inside you while you were cockwarming Captain America, but you’d done your best so that you could make headway in assembling your Lego wildflowers.

And, of course, it had become a stubborn stand-off between the two of you, where you both were holding out on giving in to your bodies’ desires.

That hadn’t stopped you from taunting Steve, though, and you’d told him there was only one thing he could do that would make you forget about the Lego flowers entirely. He just hadn’t been willing to do it—but you smirked into his neck as you caught your breath, thinking he was finally ready to be done with the stand-off.

“If you want to fuck me, captain, you know what you have to do,” you purred in his ear, pulling away and nipping at his jaw, wringing another tortured groan from the super-soldier. “You just have to admit I’m the best Lego flower assembler in the tower.”

Steve had initially chuckled at your silly demand, playfully telling you he’d only admit such a thing when you assembled as many flowers as him.

But the way his cock throbbed inside you when you called him ‘captain’ and the way his hands were desperately groping your hips, ass and thighs—any soft part of you he could reach beneath your sweatshirt—told you he had reached his limit. So, his next words didn’t come as much of a surprise.

“You are, honeysuckle, you’re the best Lego flower assembler in the whole fucking tower,” Steve rasped, his hips rocking slightly, like he simply couldn’t stop himself from fucking you even a little bit. His fingers were digging deep into the soft flesh of your body, moving you back and forth to grind on his cock. “You’re the best in the whole city—please, just let me fuck you, sunflower.”

Your breaths were catching in your throat as helpless whimpers and moans tumbled from your lips. The way Steve was jerking your body on his cock, like you were little more than a fuck toy for him to play with, was making your mind melt as heat cascaded through your body, settling heavily between your thighs.

It felt so good—Steve’s cock grinding deep in your cunt, your wetness dripping down his hard length to soak his balls, your clit rubbing against the base of him—that it took your mouth a moment to remember how to form more than unintelligible sounds of pleasure.

“Yes,” you gasped finally, dragging the word from the depths of your desire-drenched mind. And once you started, you couldn’t seem to stop, your hips rocking into Steve’s, meeting his grinding thrusts as you clung to his shoulders, your fingers buried in his soft hair. “Please, captain—please fuck me.”

“Thank fuck,” Steve growled, wrapping you up tightly in his arms and pounding into you from below. He held you pinned to his broad chest and buried his face against you, his lips mouthing at the soft mounds of your tits through your sweatshirt. “You feel so fucking good, buttercup, so warm and soft and fucking perfect wrapped around my cock.”

“Oh god, oh fuck, Steve,” you babbled, spreading your thighs wider and splaying them further open so that Steve could slam deeper and deeper into your pussy, making your head spin with how good it felt, how wildly perfect it felt to be fucked by him. “You fuck me so good, captain—please, ‘m already so close, Steve—please.”

Your last word was a desperate, begging cry as your body trembled so violently in Steve’s arms that he had to hold you tighter to keep you right where he wanted you. Pleasure was coiled tightly in your core, and you knew you were seconds away from cumming. It was all you could do to gasp for air as you prepared to tip over the edge.

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” Steve rumbled, lifting his head from your tits to drag his mouth along the line of your jaw until he found your lips. His kiss was so all-consuming, you almost missed the way he tilted your hips so your clit was grinding ruthlessly against his pelvic bone while he rocked up into you. “Cum on your captain’s cock like the good girl I know you are.”

His command was rumbled against your lips before his mouth pressed back against you, his tongue plunging into you and swallowing your sounds of ecstasy as you shattered apart. You were undone by his words and the deliciously perfect way he worked your body.

The sheer force of your orgasm stole the breath from your lungs and you screamed, the sound muffled by Steve’s lips as he eagerly drank down the sound like it was his favorite thing in the world. Wave after wave of heated pleasure washed over your body and you moaned helplessly as your pussy clenched hard around Steve’s cock.

A groan ripped free from the depths of his chest and poured between your parted lips as he followed you over the edge, his hips rutting into you with hard thrusts that had you bouncing wildly on his cock.

If it wasn’t for Steve’s arms still holding you firmly against his chest, you were sure you would’ve lost your balance, but he kept you right where you were meant to be—on his cock while he emptied his balls into your cunt.

As Steve spilled himself inside you, your hands slid from his hair to hold his jaw in your palms. You kissed him through his release, licking his sounds of pleasure off his tongue and groaning at the delicious warmth that filled your body from head to toe.

Once Steve’s cock had been milked dry of all his cum, he rumbled a satisfied sound and finally loosened his hold on you. His big hands stroked up your spine and back down again, soothing your body as you relaxed against his chest, your mouths still moving together in an endless kiss.

Eventually, you pulled away from his mouth and let your head fall to his shoulder as your eyes slipped closed. A happy, contented sigh puffed from your lips and gusted against Steve’s neck, making him tremble slightly.

“So,” you started when you’d finally caught your breath, your heart rate back to normal and matching the steady pounding in Steve’s chest where you were pressed together. “How many flowers did you put together after I started cockwarming you, captain?”

Steve was quiet for so long, you half thought he’d fallen asleep against the couch, but then his hand squeezed your hip and he huffed an exasperated laugh.

“Three.”

Your cackling laugh was so loud, it filled every corner of Steve’s suite, and a moment later, Captain America’s booming chuckle joined the din to make a wonderful cacophony of joy in your little corner of Avengers Tower.

It seemed you had, in fact, figured out a way to make assembling legos with Captain America much more fair—and much more fun.

A week later, Tony Stark stormed into the Avengers Tower conference room where he’d gathered all the superheroes and their SHIELD support team for what he’d deemed an “urgent” meeting.

You sat next to Steve, his hand on your thigh and his fingers twisted with yours as you tried not to look at each other. Both of you suspected you knew what the meeting was about, and you knew you’d both break if you made eye contact.

It didn’t help matters when Tony slammed a small, potted Lego succulent on the glass table of the conference room, hard enough for the whole thing to tremble. A hush fell over the room as everyone stared at the irate Iron Man.

“Where the hell are all these Legos coming from?!” he demanded, his seething gaze roving the room, making eye contact with every single person who sat around the table. When no one spoke, he went on. “They keep popping up in my lab—and they’re starting to crowd my workstation. So who is it?”

You couldn’t help yourself, you cut a sideways glance at Captain America, and had to press your lips even more tightly together to hold back a laugh.

Steve’s gaze was filled with so much mischievous amusement, you could feel a laugh clawing up your throat. As you looked at him, Steve let the corner of his mouth flicker in a smirk, and it was nearly your undoing. You looked away before you could snort and give yourself away.

Thankfully, Clint Barton piped up, telling the room he’d assumed Tony had been the one assembling the Lego flowers that had been showing up all over the tower. He noted he’d found them in the kitchen, the gym, both locker rooms, and plenty of other places.

Bruce Banner agreed with Clint, asking Tony if he hadn’t picked up the hobby during one of his latest bouts of insomnia. It would make sense, Bruce reasoned, since most of the Legos seemed to be cropping up in Tony’s lab.

Meanwhile, Thor had plucked the Lego succulent from Tony and was playing with the pieces, pulling them apart and putting them back together. He lifted his head with a goofy grin and nudged Phil Coulson, murmuring something about the tiny building toy being quite fun actually.

At the opposite end of the table, Nick Fury and Maria Hill shared an exasperated look, then began having a hushed conversation among themselves. You caught snippets of intel about the next mission the Avengers were set to go on, but that was less interesting to you than the reason for Tony’s “urgent” meeting so your gaze slide away to see how everyone else was reacting.

Across from you, Natasha Romanoff caught your eye. She flicked something tiny and pink across the glass surface of the conference table, so discretely, no one else noticed except Steve. He caught the pink thing in his hand as it tumbled over the edge toward your lap.

When the two of you glanced down at his open palm, you discovered the tiny pink thing was a Lego cherry blossom from one of the sets you’d assembled and left in the kitchen.

Looking back at Natasha, she was smirking, and there was an unmistakeable knowing glint in her eyes.

As you watched, though, she pinched two fingers together and twisted them near the corner of her mouth, like she was turning a key in a lock. Her message was clear: Nat knew the Legos were coming from you and Steve, but she wasn’t going to say anything.

Both you and Steve let out silent sighs of relief.

The meeting went on for a little longer after that, though it didn’t go anywhere. No one admitted to planting the Lego flowers around the tower, and Tony was still furious that he didn’t know who was behind it.

Fury finally had to call an end to things when it looked like Tony and Thor were about to come to blows, the former convinced Thor was playing dumb about not knowing anything about Legos while the latter was grinning and egging him on.

Another week passed of Lego flowers and succulents appearing around the tower. Nat had taken to helping you and Steve, sneaking into Tony’s lab while the two of you kept him distracted with speculation about who it could be. Clint caught you leaving a Lego cactus on Bruce’s desk, but he promised to keep your secret and even joined in on the fun just like Nat had.

It wasn’t until the end of the month when Tony called another “urgent” meeting that your prank was finally unmasked.

Tony had a sheaf of papers in one hand and a video disc in the other, claiming that Pepper had discovered the charges made to one of his cards at the Lego store over on fifth. Apparently, he’d talked the manager into giving him a copy of the security tapes from the night when they’d been purchased, so he was about to uncover the culprit.

Once he’d announced all of this, Tony paused for dramatic effect, giving everyone in the room one last chance to come clean.

That time, when Steve cut his eyes to you, his mouth flickering with a smile, you couldn’t keep it together. Steve and you both lost it, laughing so hard, tears began streaming down your faces while Nat and Clint shared a private, knowing chuckle.

Steve came clean about the prank and admitted it had been you and him the whole time. He even explained how you’d roped Clint and Nat into helping once they’d discovered you—and both of them nodded to confirm Steve was telling the truth, grinning unrepentantly.

Tony took it all in stride, seemingly relieved to finally know the source of all the Legos. He did ask how Steve managed to spend so much money at the Lego store though. By his calculations, not even half of the Lego flowers Steve had purchased had popped up around the tower.

At that question, Steve’s cheeks pinkened a little and he admitted there was still a hefty pile of Lego boxes in his suite. You and him had spent plenty of nights assembling Legos—even when you weren’t getting distracted by cockwarming Captain America—but there were still a lot left.

Squeezing his hand in your lap, you spoke up with a suggestion for a Lego night, where everyone could get together and assemble some Legos. It could be a fun opportunity of team bonding, you said.

Fury liked the idea so much, he approved it immediately, then wasted no time in calling an end to the “urgent” meeting.

And that was how you ended up spending a night assembling Legos in Avengers Tower with Steve Rogers and the rest of team, laughing and talking and taking a much-needed break from the stresses of the world. It was the first of many wonderful nights.

#steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfic #captain america steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #chris evans #chris evans characters #chris evans smut #chris evans fluff #chris evans fanfiction #witchywithwhiskeywork #avengers tower au

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your-writer-beta-side-piece · 2 months ago

Text

I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR A HWANG JUN HO X OC!!!

HE’S HOME GUYS!

Oh thank GOD! You are an absolute king/queen!!!

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 ── ★ h.jh. (prologue)

love at first sight happens between the police officer and a bright, innocent woman. they shared a deep connection that meant they needed each other more than anything, even when they experienced the same nightmare.

⤷ pairing: hwang jun-ho x fem!oc

⤷ genre/tags: fluff, angst, thriller, psychological drama, established relationship, team bonding, financial issues, games, action, betrayal, foreigner!soft!oc, protective!junho

⤷ wc: 400+ words

⤷ note: enjoy my friends! it's a sweet prologue

⤷ language key: korean, english

❰ 2022, SOUTH KOREA. ❱

Summer days open as the letter of a lover, warm words of light radiating onto welcoming skin.

It all happened when a twenty-one-year-old woman visited South Korea for a family vacation. Despite wanting a fun summer break, the language barrier was a challenge. She did her best to communicate with locals in her poor Korean. But there was a moment when she tried buying crepes, and a gentleman approached her.

“Okay, mama. I’ll meet all of you at the park.”

A petite beauty named Lilymae Reed or Lily hangs up and finds a cute bakery she wants to try. One of the workers behind the country greets Lily and she greets back. She is in a different country so she must know some Korean language and culture. Lily was born and raised in the States, so there is a major difference. Here comes the hard part. She isn’t sure she can do it herself.

Unknowingly, the American woman didn’t notice someone came up to her.

“Do you need help, miss?” His deep voice erupts her concentrated yet anxious thoughts. Lily jolts a little and turns to her left. She expected to be some other man, but this man was super handsome. He has warm brown eyes like he could put her into a trance, a tall stature, onyx hair set over his forehead, perfect facial structure, and dressed in casual clothes. He looks like a model, but he is a regular person.

Lily stutters, “O-Oh, um! I don’t know Korean.” She gestures with her mouth and ears and uses her index fingers to create an X. Good thing, the stranger understood what Lily meant. He picked up quicker than a tiger.

The Korean man apologizes, “My bad. I can speak some English but not fluently.” He changes languages which surprises the foreigner. His heart fluttered when he saw her cute expression, which never happened to him before. The stranger kindly tells Lily, “I can help you order.”

She responds, “Of course! Thank you so much!” The petite girl has him join the line. Soon enough, they reach the register and the Korean man orders Lily’s four crepes. The worker gives the total amount and when she is about to pay, he stops her. “I can do it. If that's good with you.” He offers his help. Lily’s eyes bulge in shock. How is someone so handsome can be this loyal? She nods her head to let him do it.

Once the gentleman takes the sweet treats and gives them to Lily, they leave the bakery.

“Thank you again. I’m Lily, by the way.” She appreciates him and says her name. Lily offers her hand for a handshake. The charming man brings a smile to his face. “You’re welcome. I’m Jun-ho. Nice to meet you.” He gently takes her hand into his grasp.

From that very precious moment, their love story began.

series masterlist | one

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 4 months ago

Text

Slick

Pairing: General Marcus Acacius x Lucius Verus x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: A new day dawns and your soldiers are still with you. Warnings: ALL PORN NO PLOT. (Like they don't even move from the bed.) SMUT, MMF threesome, man on man action, soft dom marcus, subby lucius, fingering, anal fingering, unprotected p in v, anal sex, pussy eating, mutual dick sucking, lots of praise kink, oil, body massage, a call back to S2E3 but this time with DUDES, reality? get that out of here! we've got roman dudes covered in oil fucking, not beta read, very lightly edited because your girl wants these horny words exorcised out of her loins. Words: 4,000.

A/N: Hi. It me.🧍🏼‍♀️ I've returned to offer you more Gladiator II sex. Read their prior adventures here and here. I had this pretty close to done well before the RUSH of all of the Pedro/Paul content today, but tonight I finished and lightly edited it (please accept any mistakes and overly repeated words). This is the first time I've written this form of male on male, so I hope I did well. Also, shout out to @magpiepills for being my smut guiding angel for some wording, @yopossum for the pink donut pic (I swear, this is not a euphemism), @itwasntimethatdidit40 for being just as enthusiastic about these three as I am, and as always forever and ever @ohheypedrito for shouting at me in text when she read it. And now in the words of @luxurychristmaspudding...

Trēs Masterlist Masterlist

---

Morning dawns and your soldiers are still there. Marcus holds you tight, his strong arms still wrapped around you. Your fingers trace the lines of his face, resting easier in slumber. He awakens at your touch, stirring and tightening his arms around you. His brown eyes flutter open, his dark lashes framing his tired eyes that focus on your face.

“Angel,” he whispers, voice rought with sleep. His hand slides up your back, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you closer. His lips capture yours, kissing you deeply and slowly.

His tongue teases your lips, urging them to open as he deepens the kiss.

His other hand roams your body, slipping between your thighs, fingers ghosting over your folds. “Need you,” he rumbles against your skin.

"But first, I need to get you nice and wet for me," he purrs. His thumb circles your clit as he sucks a mark onto your collarbone.

You arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. Marcus chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin as he works his way lower.

You feel Lucius wake behind you, a soft gasp escapes his lips.

Marcus lifts his head, looking over at his young soldier. “Salve soldier,” he rumbles. “Watch. Watch as I fuck our angel.”

Lucius swallows hard, his cock already hardening against your backside. “Yes, M-master,” he responds.

The general shifts you onto your back, spreading your legs wide as he settles between them. His brown eyes lock with yours as he lowers his head, his warm breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck. You shiver in anticipation, your hands gripping the sheets.

Lucius props himself up on his elbows. His wide blue eyes watching every movement with his plush lips agape. You turn your head and watch him watch as Marcus dips a hand down between your bodies.

Marcus's thick fingers slide through your folds, spreading your wetness. He teases your entrance, circling it slowly before pushing two fingers inside. You gasp, arching into his touch as he pumps them in and out.

“Already so wet for me, aren’t you Angel?” Marcus groans against your neck.

“Yes,” you moan, staring into Lucius’s eyes.

"That's it," he growls. "Open up for me, open up for my cock.”

His fingers work you open, curling and scissoring inside you as his thick thumb circles your clit. Your hips rock against his hand, seeking friction.

Beside you, Lucius’s breath comes in quick pants, his eyes darting between your face and Marcus’s hand.

Marcus's fingers pump steadily in and out of your slick heat, stretching you for his thick cock. You writhe beneath him, soft moans falling from your lips as pleasure builds within you.

"Please," you whimper, your hands grasping at his broad shoulders.

He chuckles darkly, nipping at your earlobe. "Patience, Angel. I want you dripping for me first."

His thumb presses firmly against your clit, rubbing tight circles as his fingers pump you.

"That's it," Marcus growls approvingly. "Cum for me. Show my soldier how good I make you feel."

Your eyes lock with Lucius's as your orgasm washes over you. His blue eyes shine as he watches you fall apart underneath his General’s touch.

You whimper when Marcus withdraws his fingers. He holds them up in awe of how they glisten in the soft morning light, coated with your arousal. "Taste her," he commands Lucius, holding his fingers to the soldier's lips.

Lucius eagerly obeys, running his tongue along Marcus's fingers and moaning softly at your taste. Marcus's eyes darken as he watches, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

"Good soldier," Marcus praises, pulling his fingers from Lucius's mouth with a wet pop. "Now watch closely. See how I take our angel.”

He positions himself between your thighs, his cock brushing against you. You cry, grabbing at the skin of his strong arms desperate and needy to feel him inside you.

He grips your hips, holding you steady as he slowly pushes inside. You gasp at the delicious stretch of him, your walls fluttering around his cock as he fills you completely.

“So tight,” he groans, his eyes locked on yours. “So perfect.”

Lucius watches with rapt attention, his chest heaving quick breaths. His hand moves to grip his own hard cock, but Marcus stops him with a sharp command.

"No touching, soldier," Marcus says firmly.

Lucius obeys. His hands fisting in the sheets instead.

Marcus begins to move, his hips rolling against yours in steady rhythm.

He thrusts into you, his power stretching you with each deep stroke. His strong hands grip your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he guides you in a steady rhythm.

“That’s it Angel,” Marcus growls, his hips snapping against yours. “Take it, show my soldier how good I make you feel.”

You moan in response, your own hips grinding against his. With one hand on your thigh, Marcus lifts your leg higher around his waist. The change in angle causes him to hit that spot deep inside you, making a sharp cry escape your lips.

"You're mine,” he declares. “Mine to fuck, mine to pleasure."

Lucius whimpers softly. His blue eyes are dark with lust as he watches his general claim you. His cock stands proudly, leaking precum onto his toned stomach.

“And who do you belong to Soldier?” Marcus asks, turning his head towards Lucius.

“You, Master,” Lucius groans, his voice strained. “I belong to you.”

“Look at how much she loves it,” Marcus continues, his gaze never leaving yours as he drives deeper. “She can’t get enough.”

Your eyes dart to Lucius, whose breath comes in desperate gasps as he watches you both. His body trembles, his teeth clamp down on his bottom lip.

“You want to touch yourself, don’t you?” Marcus asks him, his voice taking on a more dominant edge.

Lucius nods frantically. “Yes, Master.”

“Not yet soldier, not yet.”

Marcus increases his pace, his thick shaft driving into you harder and faster. The slick sound of skin against skin fills the room, mingling with your cries of pleasure and his deep grunts of exertion.

Marcus senses your orgasm, his thumb finds your clit and begins rubbing tight circles. "Cum for me, Angel," he commands, his voice rough with desire. "Let my soldier see how good I make you feel."

The dual sensations of his cock and thumb push you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you in intense waves. You clench tightly around Marcus's shaft, milking it with every pulse.

"Good girl," Marcus praises, continuing to thrust through your orgasm.

Beside you, Lucius whimpers, his hands fisting the sheets tightly as he watches you come undone. His cock twitches against his stomach, leaking steadily.

As your orgasm starts to ebb, Marcus slows his movements. With a groan, he pulls out of your still quivering heat. You whine at the loss, feeling empty without him filling you.

Marcus settles on his back next to you, his cock still hard and slick with your orgasm. He reaches over and grabs the oil cannister.

“Rub me, both of you,” he commands in a low voice, shifting slightly to make room for Lucius beside you.

Your hands tremble slightly, your body still overwhelmed by the orgasm Marcus just gave you, as you take the cannister from his grasp. The smooth glass feels cool against your skin as you pour a generous amount of golden oil into Lucius’s outstretched palm before you trickle a stream of oil down Marcus’s broad chest.

His deep brown eyes move between you and Lucius, something akin to adoration flashes quickly through them.

Your hands glide over his broad chest, Lucius takes care of his strong legs.

Marcus’s body is peppered with scars from his many battles, your hands soothe each mark.

His skin almost glitters in the light of the rising sun. Every curve and ridge of his body gleams like he’s made of bronze.

Lucius’s hands glide over Marcus’ toned thighs, working the oil into his skin.

Yours and Lucius’s hands worship the General’s body, your eyes fixated on his cock, standing hard and tall in between his thighs, twitching.

His body is soon covered in golden oil, slicking down his body. You slide your hand down his stomach down to his cock, looking up at his eyes for silent permission. He grunts and nods, raising his hands to cradle the back of his head.

You trail your fingers along the length of him, mesmerized bu the way his skin shimmers under the oil. Lucius’s eager hands mirrors your movements.

“More,” Marcus orders, his voice rough with desire. “I want to feel both of you on me.”

He looks like a Roman statue posed like this. His body covered in shiny oil, his posture relaxed and strong.

“Show me how much you want it,” Marcus commands, his tone low. “Both of you.”

You kiss your way down his chest, your lips tasting the rich taste of the oil on Marcus’s body. You reach his thick cock, pulsating with need and look at Lucius in silent communication. You both share a smile before leaning in closer together, your breaths mingling as you let your tongues dance around the head of his shaft, both of you savoring the taste of him.

“Fuck,” Marcus breathes, his voice gravelly as he watches you both work in harmony. His gaze flickers between your mouth and Lucius's like a predator reveling in the beauty of his prey. “Worship me.”

You take turns tracing your tongues down the length of Marcus’s throbbing cock, his hips jut up with a hiss with each gentle flick and teasing spiral.

You take turns alternating between drawing your lips around the head of his cock and kissing up his shaft, each time making sure to lock your gaze with Marcus's. His brown eyes blaze through yours, your body feels alight with satisfaction knowing how much you affect him.

Lucius leans closer, his breath mingling with yours, and together you both envelop Marcus's cock.

Marcus lets out a deep chuckle as you and Lucius moan around his cock before he reaches down, gripping Lucius's chin to draw him closer. Their eyes lock before Marcus pulls him up into a heated kiss that makes your whole body shiver. Their lips meld together, grunts and groans escaping their lungs. You watch, enamored by the two strong men getting lost in each other. Marcus’s large hand glides down Lucius’s back, pulling him closer. The General and his soldier entwined in raw desire for each other.

Marcus pulls away, glancing down at you. “Look at her,” Marcus breathes against Lucius’s lips, his voice thick and primal. “She’s waiting for us.”

Lucius’ blue eyes are filled with lust when he looks at you.

“Sit on me Angel,” Marcus orders.

You swallow hard, feeling a rush of heat bloom across your skin at the command. With a slight nod, you shift your body, feeling the slick oil coating your skin as you rise from your spot and position yourself above Marcus.

You meet his gaze—intimidating yet tender—as you slowly lower yourself on him, feeling the broad head of his cock press against your entrance.

You pause for just a heartbeat, relishing the tense stretch of him him. Lucius watches intently, kneeling next to Marcus on the bed.

“Go on, Angel,” Marcus urges, his voice a low rumble. “Take what you need.”

With a deep breath, you sink down further.

“Gods, you feel incredible,” Marcus groans, his hands gripping your waist firmly, guiding your movements as you settle fully upon him. “Now move.”

You lean forward, resting your palms on his broad chest for balance, gripping his skin as you slip from the oil, your breath quickening as he begins to rock his hips beneath you.

Lucius watches, shifting closer, his hands wander over his own body, slick with oil.

Marcus presses his heels into the mattress, driving up into you with powerful thrusts that makes you see stars. You moan loudly as you feel Lucius inch closer, drawn to you.

“Faster,” Marcus growls, his hands tightening on your waist, urging you to pick up the pace. You obey willingly, relishing the way his cock stretches you open, filling you completely as you rise and fall atop him.

“Good girl,” he grunts, his muscles tense beneath your palms as he drives deeper, brushing against that sweet spot inside you. “You’re doing so well.”

You’re a mess of oil and sweat, Lucius’s hands run along the curves of your breasts before he leans down and takes one into his mouth. You gasp at the sensation of Marcus thrusting beneath you while Lucius’s warm mouth envelops your breast, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak of your nipple.

“Take it all, Angel,” Marcus growls, his voice thick with approval as he watches Lucius worship you. “Touch her soldier, help me make her cum.”

You ride Marcus harder as Lucius slides a hand down your torso, tracing a path until his fingers reach your sensitive clit. You gasp at the sensation, your body responding to the touch of both men.

The room is filled with the sounds of your moans and the wet slap of skin on skin as you ride him, Lucius’s fingers pressing and circling your clit.

Your orgasm flows through you, your legs shaking, head thrown back, eyes fluttering shut as you cum on Marcus’s cock.

Marcus's grip on your waist hardens, guiding you through the tremors of your release as he thrusts upward with primal intensity. His breath comes in ragged growls, his body flexing beneath you with feral energy as he watches you unravel.

Lucius doesn’t relent either, his fingers still circle your clit, pulling every last shudder from your body as the waves of your orgasm still crash into you.

Your hips undulate atop Marcus, your voice ragged from screaming and moaning as you still ride the earth-shattering orgasm.

Lucius’s mouth moves to your lips, kissing you deeply, swallowing all of the sounds that escape your throat.

“Lay back, Angel,” Marcus instructs, as he shifts beneath you. You feel his hands release their grip just enough to allow you to move. You push yourself up from him, feeling the slickness of oil coating your skin as you slide off his cock, a gasp escapes your lips at the sensation of emptiness. You turn and lay back upon the soft bedding, the fabric cool against your heated skin.

Marcus stands, heading over to the amphora and pouring himself a glass of wine.

"Soldier, attend to her," Marcus orders. "Lick up the mess I've made of our Angel."

"Yes, Master," Lucius replies eagerly, quickly shifting to settle between your spread thighs.

He gazes up at you reverently for a moment before lowering his head and running his tongue along your slit, lapping up your wetness. You moan softly, threading your fingers through his dark hair. His tongue delves deeper, thrusting into you and moaning at the taste.

Marcus watches, his eyes dark with lust as his soldier pleasures you. He takes one last drink of wine before reaching for the vial of oil, pouring some into his hand. "On your knees, soldier," he commands gruffly. "Present yourself to me."

Lucius obeys immediately, raising his hips while keeping his mouth latched onto your core. Marcus moves behind him, spreading Lucius's firm cheeks to reveal his tight hole. The general drizzles the warm oil down Lucius's crack, letting it trickle over his entrance.

He shivers at the sensation, a muffled moan vibrating against your cunt. Marcus sets the vial aside and begins massaging the oil into Lucius' skin. His thick fingers rub firm circles around the tight ring of muscle, coaxing it to relax.

Lucius moans into your wet heat as Marcus slowly pushes a finger inside him, working the tight ring of muscle open.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, holding him close as his tongue adores you.

"Get nice and loose for your general's cock,” Marcus rumbles approvingly, pumping it in and out.

The soldier's hips jerk, grinding back against Marcus's hand as he eats you out with renewed fervor. His tongue swirls around your clit before sucking it between his lips.

"Ohh," you cry out. Pleasure crashing over you as Lucius works you higher up the cliff.

Marcus continues fingering his soldier open. "Look at you, so eager for it," he praises. "Such a good soldier, servicing our Angel while I open you up."

Lucius rocks back to meet each thrust, whimpering and moaning into your slick folds. His tongue moves erratically against you as Marcus takes him apart with his fingers.

Marcus gazes down at you as he opens Lucius with his fingers. Your thighs begin to tremble, another orgasm building rapidly under both men’s attention.

“Close… close,” you moan out, your hips rolling to meet Lucius’s movements.

"Cum for him, Angel," Marcus commands, voice deep and authoritative. "Cum on my brave soldier's tongue."

With a sharp cry, you shatter, inner walls clenching rhythmically as ecstasy crashes over you. Lucius moans deeply, lapping at your release.

“Beautiful,” Marcus admires, pouring oil on his hard cock and stroking it. “Now Angel, watch as I take my soldier.”

Marcus grabs Lucius by the hips and with one swift, possessive motion, he sheaths himself deep inside Lucius. Both men gasp, Lucius buries his face into your thigh, his hands gripping the bedding as Marcus starts to thrust, deep and slow.

You feel each powerful thrust with each tremor that moves through Lucius against you.

You watch in awe, heart racing, as your General begins to claim his soldier.

“Take it, soldier,” Marcus’s voice is a low rumble against the backdrop of Lucius’s soft whimpers. “Show our Angel how well you take me.”

You grab Lucius’s chin, tilting it up to look him in the eyes, staring into the ocean of blue gazing back at you filled with waves of admiration and arousal.

You watch as power and submission join, filling the room with a symphony of skin slapping against skin and sounds of shared pleasure.

“More,” Lucius gasps, his body arching towards Marcus, urging him to give more of himself. He takes your breath away, vulnerable and fierce beneath Marcus’s strength.

Marcus responds with a feral smile, increasing his pace, each thrust hammering deeper into Lucius, pushing them both closer to that cliff.

“Let her hear you,” Marcus urges, his own breaths growing ragged. “Let her hear how good I make you feel, soldier.”

“Angel,” Lucius cries out for you, his voice raw and needy, his eyes staring into yours. His muscles tense and flex with each thrust that rolls into his body.

Marcus looks at you, his strong brow furrowed in determination as he spits in his hand and leans forward, wrapping his arm around Lucius's waist to firmly grasp his soldier’s cock.

“Feel it,” Marcus grunts. Lucius's eyes flutter shut, his mouth falling open in a silent moan. He squeezes your thigh harder, pulling you closer grounding himself.

You lean in closer, mesmerized by the scene unfolding before you, wanting to be closer to Marcus. He reads your body like a battlefield.

In one fluid motion, he lifts Lucius against his chest while still thrusting inside of him. Gasping, Lucius clutches at Marcus's larger hands and holds them tightly.

“Come here Angel,” Marcus grits, his tone dropping an octave sending goosebumps up your spine. “Help me make my soldier cum.”

You obey without hesitation, moving quickly to kneel in front of the two soldiers. Your fingers glide over Lucius’s taut chest, tracing the muscles that ripple beneath your touch as Marcus continues to claim him, thrusting deeply, rhythmically.

“Just like that,” Marcus growls, locking eyes with you. “Touch him Angel.”

Your heart races as you curl your fingers around Lucius’s cock, stroking him in time with Marcus’s thrusts. Precum drips out of the tip, your hand gliding smoothly along his length.

“Together,” he commands, his voice a possessive whisper that resonates in your core. “Let’s take him apart.”

You lean closer, your breath ghosting over Lucius's ear as you begin to quicken your pace. His body responds in kind, every stroke of your hand pulling more desperation from him.

“Angel,” Lucius groans, his voice trembling with need. “Master.”

You lean forward, sealing your mouth over his, kissing him. You swallow down his moans as Marcus drives into him, each snap of his hips against him a declaration of his dominance.

“Don’t hold back,” Marcus growls, the echo of his voice vibrating off the walls of your bedroom.

Lucius's breathing grows more shallow against your lips. You hold onto him tighter, mimicking his every movement as he responds to the General's touch. He pulls away, biting down on his lip before begging. "I can't... I can't keep this up much longer."

“Cum then soldier,” Marcus demands. “Let it all spill for our angel.”

“Cum Lucius,” you whisper, your fingers tightening and twisting. “Cum for us.”

His breath hitches and with a low moan, Lucius breaks, his body tensing and tightening. “I’m—” he gasps, eyes squeezing shut as his length throbs in your hand.

Marcus thrusts harder as his soldier’s body quakes against him. With a battle cry that echoes, Lucius spills himself hot and thick across your fingers. You caress Lucius’s flushed face, brushing away the sweat that formed on his brow. He pants, his eyes rounding with affection as he stares into your eyes.

“Good soldier,” Marcus grunts before letting out a primal growl and pulling out. “Lay with our Angel,” he commands, “I want you to watch me cum for you.”

You spread out on the mattress, Lucius collapses next to you, his chest heaving, his blue eyes still glazed with pleasure.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Marcus growls, standing tall looming over the bed. He towers over both of you, golden skin glistening in the soft light, each muscle defined as he strokes himself. “Watch me cum for you two.”

His hand works his length, teasing the tip as he stares down at you both. Lucius's hand finds yours, intertwining his fingers with yours as both of you watch Marcus in awe.

“Tell our Angel what you are,” Marcus demanded.

“Y-Your obedient soldier,” Lucius answers, never breaking eye contact with his general.

“And what do we crave?” Marcus growls, voice deep and rumbling.

“Our Angel, sir,” Lucius responds, his voice hoarse with need.

Marcus grunts, his grip on his cock tightening as he thrusts his hips forward.

“Marcus,” you moan. “Cum for us, General.”

It is as if his name on your lips was enough to shatter him. With a guttural groan, Marcus’s hips buck forward, his thick white ropes flying over both of you, hot and sticky against your skin.

“Angel,” he growls, collapsing onto the bed and crawling to lay next to you.

He catches his breath, his large chest heaving up and down.

“Kiss her soldier,” he sighs, grabbing you and pulling you close against his sticky skin. “Taste my Angel’s lips for me.”

You giggle as Lucius nuzzles his nose against yours and chases your mouth, needy and desperate for your kiss. You moan as his soft lips part yours and taste all of his desire for you.

Marcus chuckles softly behind you, rumbling against your back. “Just like that,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse and satisfied. “Let her feel how much we crave her, and then, we shall rest and bathe.”

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seraphicsentences · 6 months ago

Text

all mine (pt.2)

closeted/in denial abby anderson x reader

pt.1: you told me your new man don’t make you nut, that’s a damn shame.

please click here!

tags: sub!abby, dom!reader, experienced!reader, mentions of owen, tbh trauma from owen, strap-on sex, cunnilingus, 69ing, dry humping, grinding, nonexplicit masturbation, lowkey voyeurism+exhibitionism ish? there’s plot i swear.

A/N: im well aware that i apologize in every post i make and that its redundant, but im still sorry that i took forever to write.

so. some of this may sound a little familiar from the first part, but it’s simply just drawing parallels between abby’s and your stances on one another.

this gets gradually worse and worse. i think the quality started landsliding once i reached the smut. enjoy!

it’s been near ‘round a week later, and abby’s avoiding you like the fucking devil. in fact— by the way she’s been acting, you think she might even believe so. she’s never felt so inexplicably thrown off. clickers, bloaters… couple of well-aimed shots and they’re no deal. but you? the ghost of your touches haunt her day and night. she’s like a woman possessed. and she’s insatiable.

her once weekly visits to the chapel have become daily: hour-long stays spent on her knees, prayers whispered hastily under her breath, eyes darting to paranoically try to catch potential eavesdroppers.

even owen, the air-headed asshole, has been left victim, or perhaps victor, to the effects of your actions. in a desperate attempt to ease her whirling mind, or rather, to ease the painful throbbing between her thighs, abby’s seemed to have turned to her boyfriend as a last ditch effort.

abby’s newfound flood of arousal, pooling and pleading, only to be met by owen’s two incher every night have had his ego blowing up fucking obnoxiously.

“god, abby, you’re fuckin’ desperate for my dick lately,” he’d gloat, hilariously blind to his girlfriend’s infidelity.

unfortunately for abby, her pathetic resorts have done nothing to quiet the moaning mess of guilt-filled memories. if anything, they’ve done quite the opposite.

she’s been left to the mercy of her palm, heel of it digging into her clit while she’s beside the sleeping figure of owen, straining every massive muscle in her body to give her that orgasm she so badly needs.

it’s to no avail, though. stuck gasping and tearing up against a pillow, her poor pussy crying for some semblance of relief. and what’s left is a week-long edged abby anderson, ms. “top soldier”, who’s back to shooting no better than a freshly new recruit.

what’s up with that, hm?

2am now, in the isolated west dormitory’s showers, and abby’s at it again. her body starving for your touch; your sinful, corrupting, addictive touch, and she’s failing to appease her needs once more.

“mmph- fuck, ah-please,” abby begs into her forearm, groaning as two thick fingers plunge deep into her sopping hole, thrusting in and out messily.

it’s exhausting to fuck the way you do. even with her arms the impressive size they are, it’s impossibly demanding to reach every nerve you had reached, filthy sounds echoing along the tile walls, taunting her.

abby knows what’s coming, or really, the lack of it.

skin pink from the heat of the water, she abandons her effort, shutting the stream off with a squeak and ventures the locker room to get dressed for the night.

her mind wanders to you— that’s all it ever seems to do as of recently, and she thinks about how she almost misses your antics. she can’t place her finger on what it is exactly about you that makes her chase every teasing interaction so masochistically.

maybe it’s your lopsided smile that lures her in, or that glint in your eye she gets caught up in. or maybe it’s just that she knows she shouldn’t want you, and it’s so deliciously wrong, and that’s why she’s got to have you.

towel flung over her shoulder, abby makes her way out, only to stop in her tracks when she hears the loud slam of a locker door.

what the fuck? wasn’t the bathroom empty when she last checked??

cheeks burning at the mistaking of her privacy, she swivels the corner, furious to see who the fuck else is using the west dorm showers at this hour. of all the hours.

and, well, abby’s frozen in place when she’s met with the sight of a mystery someone’s bare back. but oh, how she recognizes you, you and your wet hair, slinging droplets down your smooth skin, trailing lower and lower and-

you cough, breaking her trance. baby blue eyes dart up, caught, as you slide your tank on, smirking.

“hey, anderson.”

that just about does it for her. abby slams an open locker door shut, almost sprinting out of the room.

and really, there’s no choice but for you to follow her, practically hunting her down as she sharply turns down random hallways, clearly attempting to outrun you. abby makes a wrong turn soon enough, and you honestly think you might burst out into laughter because of the funny way fate seems to string the two of you together.

the blonde’s backed herself into a corner, and it just so happens to be your residential corner. you can’t help but wonder if she already knew where your room was located.

“scared, anderson?” slips out of your mouth, and it feels significant, reminiscent of the week before. you stare her down, wet strands clinging to her skin to match yours, and it’s like the two of you know what’s to come with your words. the inevitable.

you’re not sure which one of you moves first, rubber band of tension snapping as your lips collide in a catastrophic sort of way. you’re scrambling to blindly dial your dorm code in and tugging abby by her shirt in a tangle of limbs and saliva.

“i’ll play nice,” you pant, “even after that disappearing stunt you pulled last week.”

abby laughs, whispering, “whoops,” under her breath before pulling you in for another dizzying kiss, tongue eagerly curling into your mouth like she’s been waiting years for a taste.

you wrap your fingers around her hair with a tug, and the low groan that escapes from the back of abby’s throat has you repeating the motion again and again as you veer her backwards to fall atop your bed. you follow, straddling her, not wanting to spend a second apart from the fucking drug that her mouth is.

your hips grind down on their own, burning and desperate for stimulation. abby, in return, wraps a strong hand around your throat, pulling you even deeper into a sloppy kiss to swallow your moans as she pushes her hips up to meet yours.

“fuck,” you gasp, clit catching against the seam of your shorts with every roll.

abby’s mind has gone blurry with arousal, drunk off the satisfaction of finally getting what her body’s begged for. every pretty noise that slips out of your mouth sends pulses of pleasure straight through her bundle of nerves, and every touch of skin has her feeling set ablaze.

but as always, she needs more.

she maneuvers you easily under her big frame, your head tipping back in a soft whine as she latches herself onto your throat, biting and soothing your skin over.

she’s lodged a leg in between your own, mimicking your position as she wildly bucks her hips down onto you. “please,” she breathes out, tears welling in her eyes with how foreign this feeling is. she can’t bring herself to care about how needy she’s acting, because to starve, is to take anything.

“just like that, baby, you’re soaking my thigh,” you coo, continuing to dry hump her leg like she’s nothing but a toy to you. the whimper she lets out at the name you call her is downright criminal, and the way her movements pick up have you groaning it out again. “c’mon baby, make a mess of yourself for me,” you grab her meaty hips, grinding her harder down against you.

“gonna-“ she gasps into your neck, before shuddering against you as she cums with a cry, muscular thighs holding you so desperately tight in place. you almost scream, caught in the iron grip she has your body in, stopped so close to your own finish. you dig your nails into the flesh of abby’s hips, hearing her moan as the pain mixes with pleasure, and echo the sound yourself as the burning in your core starts up again.

“just let me, for a minute- i need you- just stay here, shit,” you ramble, gripping her hair for leverage while you fuck yourself faster against her thigh.

every twitch of a muscle beneath your soaked pussy has you reeling, unable to wrap your mind around what a massive fucking crime it is, for another woman not to have experienced the absolute blessing it is to have abby anderson’s defined-ass thigh to grind on.

you glance down at abby, and the fucked-out expression she has on, all watery doe-eyed as she peers up at you, mesmerized, has you throbbing enough to match your heart rate.

curse after curse flies out of your mouth as she attaches her mouth to your neck again, biting down as you let go of that coil tugging on your navel.

abby’s no sooner clambering atop you, diving in to taste your sounds as she scoops you onto her lap, practically growling, “fuckin’ get over here,” under her breath.

as your vision returns, she attacks your mouth with a sloppy kiss, colliding teeth, and you’re unbearably hungry for more.

“let me- i’m gonna taste you,” you breath out, shoving abby’s back down with a push.

she falls back with a soft thud, eyes not leaving you once. “please, fuck- taste me, have me,” abby affirms, scrambling to tug her shorts off.

the massive soaked patch at the center her boxers have your eyes rolling into your skull. “shit, anderson,” you run a finger over her clothed slit, giggling as she jerks her hips up.

“shut up,” she rasps, her words harsh, but the small smile on her face says otherwise.

you grin up at her, “didn’t say anything,” before licking a fat stripe up her covered pussy.

her response is immediate, hands fisting into your hair to pull your mouth closer, actions the epitome of more, more, more.

you flatten your tongue, licking, and meshing her arousal with your saliva to entirely soak her boxers wet. you wrap your lips around where you guess to be her clit, based off the place her legs tremble when your tongue reaches it, and suck hard.

“there,” abby whines out, back flying off the mattress, and you’re so very desperate to see what other fun reactions she has in store for you, you grab at her waistband to unveil her pretty dripping pussy.

up close, face to face, you get to really admire the work of art she is. the divets of muscle adorning her thighs frame her pussy almost in a greek-goddess sort of way. light brownish-blonde curls of hair that reach out to your mouth, trying to pull you in closer. she’s beautiful. you’re in complete control of her right now, and holding the reins of such an unreal being has you groaning into her slick eagerly, hands holding her spread wide open while you feast.

you’re dipping your tongue into her sopping mess, teasing and thrusting, feeling her gummy walls flutter around every brush of the muscle. you dart a thumb up to circle her puffy clit, red, from her earlier actions, and the way abby’s legs kick up— almost hitting you in the face, has you giggling again into her pussy. the vibrations of your laugh make abby squeal, thighs clamping around your head, and then she’s tugging at your hair, chanting, “stopstopstopstop,” and you, of course, oblige immediately.

your face comes up covered in her wetness, arousal dripping from your chin as you lick your lips in an halfhearted attempt to clean yourself up. “sorry, sorry, i- did you want me to stop?” you ramble, concerned that you might’ve gone a little too far this time, getting yourself involved with a taken straight girl.

abby’s face flushes a deep red, even darker than it had been from your actions, as she catches her breath and looks away. “no, i- can you, uhm.”

you catch on to her hesitation, newer to sex thats more than just, well, dick. you rub her calves soothingly, “use your words, baby, you got it.”

she visibly gulps, thighs pressing tight around your body, “can i?” she asks, almost sulkily as her hands move to tug at your shorts.

“oh-!” slips out of your mouth, surprised, “yeah, yeah you can.”

she lets out a soft okay, tugging harder now, slipping her calloused fingers under your waistband as well so as to drag both down together. abby’s groans, low and heady, at the sight of your glistening pussy, practically dripping down your thighs from just getting her off. “this too,” she murmurs, sliding your tank off before you can blink.

she’s pulling you in closer, as if she’s in a trance, as she wraps her lips hesitantly around one of your perked nipples. the high-pitched sigh you let out is more than enough encouragement for her to continue, warm tongue flicking at it as she sucks around your breast. “is this okay?” she pulls away to whisper, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as she looks up at you, eyes wide.

“fuck- yes, just,” you push her head back in, her lips abiding immediately as they gently pull at your nipple, teeth grazing the most sensitive parts of your chest as you arch your back into it, quiet moans ringing in her air.

all of a sudden you’re being turned around, confused, until your hips are being lifted up towards abby’s stuck-out tongue and you’re shaking with your face pressed to her thigh while she experimentally kitten-licks around your hole, unknowingly teasing you.

her nose brushes ever-so-slightly over your pulsing clit as her tongue passes just over your dripping mess, and it has you crying out, “there, please- right there, please,” breath hot over her own throbbing pussy.

her hips jerk up at the sensation, and you take the hint— latching your lips around her own clit and stuffing two fingers easily into her hole, moaning at the feeling of her squeezing tight around you.

it’s no wonder abby’s the top soldier of wlf. for a girl who’s only ever been with the most lacking, vanilla man ever, she picks up fast. each action of yours is borderline self-serving, with the way abby’s mimicking every move not even a moment after, so adorably eager to please.

abby had this insistent need to pull every pretty sound from you, whether she got it through grazing her teeth against your clit, or curling a thick finger against your g-spot, she was determined to hear it— to the point where you thought she might’ve even needed it. and it’s what made sex with her so intoxicating.

she wasn’t like any of the other girls you typically hooked up with, and that’s not to say the girls you usually got with were bad to fuck… they just weren’t as invested in your pleasure as you were with theirs. and as the type to get off on giving rather than receiving, this was especially new. you’ve never been with someone like you. and god, does it take the cake.

abby’s really coming to terms with all the ways she can use her especially large everythings to make you feel good, murmuring into your pussy, “‘m fuckin’ splitting you open with my fingers, pretty,” as she pushes in a third finger to your sopping hole, relishing in the squelch that comes with the thrust.

your thighs shake around her head, stimulated beyond compare as you continue your ministrations on abby’s pussy, humming mhms into it to encourage more of her bolder ventures.

“mm-fuck, can feel you choking my fingers. you gonna cum, hm?” she mumbles cockily, the high from your reactions sending her mind into a frenzy.

“shit, please, need it so bad,” you croak out, taking only mere seconds apart from tonguing down her puffy clit.

“ah- god, me too, pretty. cum on my tongue,” she says, and the fucking vulgarity of it, so downright shocking to hear from ms. straight christian prude over here, has you riding your orgasm out, trembling heat overtaking your body like a california wildfire. matched moans come from beneath you, as abby’s hips fuck up against your mouth, legs flexing deliciously as the two of you reach your peaks together, the world slowing.

you slide your body off of hers, turning around to be met with a sight to behold. your cum, all over abby’s mouth, shining on the tip of her nose, remnants leaked onto her chin— and you have not a doubt you look the same mess. you yank her into a sloppy kiss, fluids mixing in your mouths in the most animalistic nature.

“i’m not done with you,” you say, eyebrows scrunched as you take in her fucked-out expression.

“i know,” she whispers, “give me more,” she breathes out.

abby slips out of her tank, finally, using the cloth to gently wipe your face and hers, action a bit too intimate for what you guys have, but neither of you decide to call out on it.

“you gonna let me fuck you?” you ask quietly, running a hand over her chest softly, enamored, as abby shivers from your words.

“please fuck me,” she whimpers, tone all pouty and petulant as she watches your hand trace ambiguous shapes over her skin.

“so polite,” you tease lightly, pulling her in for a brief kiss before reaching over to your bedside drawer and pulling out your favorite strap, just the one for the special girl in front of you.

8 inches, hot pink, with a slight curve to it, but most importantly, never been used on anyone other than yourself, by yourself.

“it’s so-“ she stutters nervously, thighs rubbing together in anticipation as you secure the toy onto your hips.

“pretty?” you finish, unable to help your laugh as she looks at you, so clearly not thinking of your response.

“yeah,” she shrugs, “suppose it is.”

it’s quiet in the room as you finish latching the silicone dick onto yourself, the two of you settling into the weight of your impulse-fueled actions.

you gently pull open her closed legs, settling yourself between them as you tease her entrance with the tip of the toy, covering it with her cum. you then spit down onto it, twisting your hand around to coat, and hear abby ask, “what’re you doing?”

you continue to prep the toy with easy motions, committed by memory, “i know you’re soaked, anderson, but it’s still a dick you’re taking, baby.”

“i just mean- i, you know,”

you hum, “owen doesn’t put in the effort, huh? and i bet you’re not even a quarter as wet for him as you are for me,” scoffing.

“don’t-“

“it’s the truth though, isn’t it?”

“…yeah.”

“that’s what i thought.”

you thumb her clit in circles, using her slick as lube to rub over it smoothly, relishing in the way abby’s head falls back and her hips jolt up. “that’s it, ease up for me,” you murmur.

you prod again at her entrance with the toy, sliding the tip in slightly as she hisses, “‘m sti-still sensitive.”

“and you’re gonna take it like the fuckin’ slut you are, anderson, aren’t you?” you tsk, pushing a couple inches more into her.

“shit- yes, yes ma’am,” she whimpers out, legs threatening to close from the new stretch.

“because even after all that time in the shower, nothing can fill you like i do,” you finish, thrusting the full length of you into her tight pussy, abby nodding repeatedly as her back arches up.

her moans pick up alongside your hips, voice breaking with every thrust as you push into that one sensitive spot deep inside with obvious expertise.

“so, s-so go-od,” she cries, hands gripping into the bedsheets as she searches for some tie back to reality.

you smirk satisfactorily, fast pace fueled by the sight of abby’s open mouth, drool spilling out the sides as her voice grows hoarse from constant use. you fuck her hard, strength channeled from the anger you bore against her homophobic attitudes, and jealousy you garnered towards owen and his idiotic male self.

you lock your eyes with abby, sweat dripping down your face as you zero down on her, slamming into her pussy with no reprieve. “no more owen,” you say, each word punctuated by another deep thrust.

“this is so wrong, this is so fucked,” abby rambles, nervous eyes darting around the room so as to avoid your gaze. her eyebrows are tugged together, head shaking no: but no to argue your words, or no to agree with them?

“has something so wrong ever felt so good?” you pant out, “tell me baby.”

“i can’t, i can’t, i can’t,” she repeats, torn between what felt right in her head, and what felt so right in her heart. “turn me over,” she babbled, not wanting to head-on face the fucking sin-filled act she was committing.

“you tried running, baby. and how’d that work for you?” you ask, fed up. “you’re still back here, a fucking mess, and all for me.”

“what’s it gonna take for you to face the fact that you’re getting fucked by a girl, and it’s so much better than anything you’ve ever experienced?”

abby’s eyes scrunch tight, trying to tune you out, but her moans still wrench out from the back of her throat, guttural and unstoppable.

you slide out finally, earning you a soft whine of disagreement, toy dripping with her slick with the tip pressed against her folds. “look at me, abby.”

and fuck. she’s never taken notice to the fact that you’ve never said her name before—but god does it sound so pretty coming out of your mouth. and god is it enough to make her wrestle her eyelids open and stare you dead in the eyes, blue clashing with the darkness you reeked in.

“say that again,” she whispers, look full of pleading. 4 letters, 2 syllables, but it has her core tensing and her heart racing a mile.

“tell me you’re mine, abby,” you breath, and she almost finishes right there and then.

“i’m yours,” she says, a single tear breaking free from her right eye, baptizing her skin, absolving her of guilt.

“good,” you choke out, bottoming entirely into her as she releases a cry. your movements quicken, ravenous, chasing the sweet whines that fill the room.

abby’s tits bounce with each thrust, and you reach down to give her sensitive nipples a pinch, making her reach an all time new height of pleasure. her chest heaves, curses slur, as she squirms under your touch, nearing an unbearably overstimulated state.

“feels- gonna cum,” she moans, barely holding on.

“cum for me,” you demand, needing to see her fall apart now more than ever as you pound into her harder, fingers rubbing harsh circles into her clit.

“s-shit,” she gasps, throwing her head back as her walls tighten around the toy, “‘m- fuck, god- fuck! ‘m cumming!”

loud squelching noises overtake the room, complete with the sight of abby writhing beneath you as spurts of her juices drench your moving cock.

her chest heaves, mouth open in a silent scream as she comes down from her high, squirming with overstimulation.

you can see the moment her brain clicks, panic in her eyes clear as her skin turns pasty white.

“i’m so sorry i didn’t mean to do that i don’t know how-“

“abby.”

“-that happened ive never done that before, like who-“

“abby.”

“-fucking pisses on someone like that i’m so sorry ill clean it-“

“ABBY.”

her eyes shoot up to meet yours, frame cowering as she mumbles a quiet apology again, so obviously uneducated in the realm of half-decent orgasms.

“you squirted, abby, you didn’t piss on me for christ’s sake. it was hot. now don’t worry about it, i’m very honored,” you chide lightly, cradling abby’s heated face in your hand.

you stand up, grabbing a clean towel and wetting it with warm water from your kettle. striding over, you spread abby’s legs lightly, running the towel gently over her worked-out center, breath hitching, hips jerking with your touch.

“why are you- you don’t have to-“ abby stutters, grabbing your wrist.

you pause, confused. “abby, i’m not a fucking dick, contrary to belief,” you scoff.

she doesn’t let go. “no that’s not what i- i didn’t mean it like that, it’s just, you know.” she waits for you to look up at her, before looking away. “you don’t have to fuss over me.”

a laugh bubbles out of you before you can stop it. “you mean owen doesn’t-? yeah, who am i kidding, of fucking course he doesn’t ‘do aftercare,’ god, what a dick!” you groan, facepalming.

“abby, baby, this is fucking normal. owen just sucks,” you smirk, her cheeks flushing at your words. “let me take care of you,” you continue more softly, nudging her grip off as you drag the towel over her sternum next, cleaning off any remnants left from the two of you.

abby’s quiet now, eyes following your every movement, curious almost, a bit hesitant— as if she’s not sure what to do with herself in the meanwhile. she’s stiff to the touch, frame shrunken now due to the sheer vulnerability of it all. bare as the day she was born, and touched like she’s never done wrong a minute in her life.

she doesn’t know how to feel about it. wisps of hair tickle her nose, and so she scratches it, pushing her hair away, tugging it behind her ears. and you’re right there on it, wordlessly turning her around as you begin to comb through her hair loosely, pulling it into a simple braid. the same hairstyle she displays everyday, always done by her own hand: tight, knot-free, and burning into her scalp. a reminder to remain true to her virtues, live by strict rules, and not stray from the lord’s path.

but the way you braid is so different. you’re careful to tie in the tickling wisps, but not harsh. effective, but not pushing. with owen she feels like an accessory, but you make her feel like someone worth worshipping. and so, the only burning she feels is not on her scalp, but behind her eyes.

you do notice the subtle tremble in abby’s shoulders, droplets trickling down her cheeks as you weave her hair through, but you make no comment on it. certainly not with the way your own hands fumble her golden strands, fingers shaking into the knots. you tie the end of it up.

“i should go,” abby whispers, standing to grab her scattered clothes.

you remain seated, mouth opening and closing like a fish, as your lips struggle to wrap around the words your heart is singing out for.

you settle on one.

“stay,” you blurt, louder than you intended, the word ringing in the tense air.

abby freezes, hand outstretched towards her tossed shirt. her head edged just the slightest bit towards you, like subconsciously, she was waiting for you to say something.

“just- stay,” you whisper this time, more unsure. waiting for the rejection you know is to come. and while your brain is screaming for you to let her go, your eyes are hooked onto abby’s figure— searching intently for the smallest signal of her response.

you see her breath catch in her throat.

“okay,” she whispers back, and her head turns just enough for your gazes to lock, matched desperation surging.

she’s drawn back to the bed like a magnet pulled to its twin, the mattress dipping as she settles in the space beside you.

and abby feels the heat of your drilling stare, one she refuses to return. she has no more fire left in her, not for you, just contemplation. a longing for more, an urge to savor, an ache to feel.

so abby faces the door, and you face her back, waiting for the day she’ll turn around.

so what did we think guys?!?? this was 4.7k words. crazy.

ok. so notice the tear coming from her right eye during that whole end part of the sex. note that it came from her RIGHT eye. scientifically speaking, that’s a tear of joy. BOOOOOOM MIC DROP.

i, unfortunately, shot for the stars and tried to make this deeper. hard to do that when you’re not in touch with your emotions. so now you guys are stuck being confused. good luck!

anyways. the final scene is supposed to represent where they metaphorically stand in their relationship. reader is trying to bond with abby, or at least making an effort to, hence her facing abby. abby can’t come to terms with all this, but she’s trying! she’s not fully accepted the homosexual part of herself though, the side that comes out with reader, so she’s facing the door. FACING IT, not leaving through it. ;)

also, yes, owen goes in dry. it’s canon. do not come at me.

taglist:

@pricefieldsuperiority @heartlexs @graviewaviee @liaphrodite @k1ngpin42 @deadbolted @be3flow3r @mrsabbyanderson

@rob1nbuckl3ys @vivispace @bookpagecandlescent

@thelosstvalkyrie for photo creds ty baby <3

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tawneybel · 13 days ago

Text

Request: “I hope you could whip up a lil bit more smut for the pink soldiers.”

Imagine being taken aside by two Pink Soldiers so they can take you.

The first Triangle had taken his time. Made sure you were excited enough to effortlessly accept two cocks. Not at once. He would have loved to see you double stuffed. But his less experienced coworker had snuck inside you before he could bring it up. Rude. Still, it was fun to see a pretty girl’s face contort as she playfully pretended to struggle to accommodate the girth.

If the other players knew you were getting preferential treatment, or thought you were a plant, things might get messy. He glanced at your thighs, which had already been coated with cum when they led you to the hallway. Were you sleeping with another player? Other players? Nice.

You were perfect at taking dick. One after another, the first Triangle thought. Perfect at taking him after other players, after his coworker. You panted, tongue out, face pressed against the pastel wall by a black glove. When he was alone in his cell, he’d probably cum again, mask off, inhaling your sweat off of it. Instead of licking the slick right off his fingers.

The black gloves weren’t terribly comfortable in or around your openings, but raw fingering was A-OK. Not that you were in any position to tell the Guards what to do.

Outside of work, the first Triangle usually preferred full nudity. Both his own and his partners’. During the games was different. He wasn’t risking you seeing any bare skin. If you wanted to flick your pebble, it made no difference to him. You got so wet just anticipating a threesome. If you didn’t, he’d have used the discreet vibrator you wore on a necklace, concealed under your shirt. He’d felt it while groping you, testing your compliance. Lifting it out of your cleavage, he gently dropped the pendant over the green ___ printed on the white cotton. Not even needing to tilt his head to get you to understand he knew what it really was.

Sometimes players smuggled stuff in. This was new, though. Dirty girl.

Way better use of a necklace than a pill case, you mentally huffed while the Pink Guard examined the accessory.

Lucky for you, the other Triangle was happy to stroke at your clit with his pinkie. If you’d looked down, the sight of a partner desperate to please would have ushered you into the first orgasm. (Of the session, not the day.) Climaxing onto his twitching digits. Glossy goo sleeping all the way down his warm palm to his wrist. If he’d been more experienced, he might have realized you were ovulating.

Not that it mattered if you got knocked up. Just two more games to go. Even if you won, you wouldn’t have time to balloon up like 222. His more experienced coworker, who’d had a vasectomy, didn’t bother mentioning being snipped. You were an all round risk taker. A taker in general, judging from the way you used other players sexually and took more and more fingers than he’d seen anyone take in their cunt before. So wet. So slippery.

Because the thought of you bringing your own vibe to the island, making use of it while hidden away on one of the top bunks, your little gasps attracting the attention of a bunkmate…! Maybe he says something to the guy below him. Next thing you know, the faux-phallus is supplemented with real dick. It looked like the previous guy’s semen was cleaned out, but spilled onto your thighs. Or someone pulled out and finished on them. The thought of that likely scenario made him blow his load, bucking his hips against your plush ass. Ramming into your grip, any lingering concern over your comfort had melted away.

This guy was gonna bust soon. You could tell.

Second Triangle’s cockhead was peeking out, eager to reintroduce itself after a break. It was bad enough he couldn’t kiss your pretty pussy quite yet, or at least lick up the mystery jizz. He had to withdraw his fingers and back up as his fellow guard shuddered into you. Lest your crotch bump into his mask.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, promptly straightening up as the soft cock slipped out. His hands had migrated to your biceps. You let your cheek rest against the cool wall. Then you crossed legs. Futilely holding their mixed cum inside.

“I don’t feel like waddling to the bathroom right now,” you whined. “Can one of you eat me out?”

They looked at each other.

It wasn’t like the second Triangle’s reputation really mattered here, and he had just fantasized about licking up someone else’s semen. (Off the thighs of a hot babe, but still.) His own, though?

As they both stood before you, a sigh escaped your lips. “Quit eyefucking each other and do rock, paper, scissors or something.”

It really wasn’t your place to tell the Guards what to do. Yet the first guy made a fist and rested it on his palm, ready to throw. Post nut clarity should have warned him not to. Just let go of your arms and- When would he get this opportunity again?

“What are you two doing?”

They stared past you, while you had to swivel your head to see who it was. A Square. He wasn’t addressing you, maybe because he didn’t expect you to behave any differently. Cameras were everywhere, after all. Frustrated, you stuck your pendant into your mouth. At this rate, the battery would be used up before you won. Not that this Square probably knew that, let alone what it was.

He addressed his underlings. “Removing masks would result in immediate termination.”

The three of you stood facing him. Arms hanging at your sides. Unsure how to proceed. Nobody spoke. Then the Square Guard took up his walkie talkie.

“What-?” you started.

“Either we get a disposable Circle, or Player ___ comes with me.”

The two Triangles watched as you pulled up first your panties, then your track pants. And chose the second option.

“Fix yourself,” said the first Triangle, before turning around to continue his shift. The second had forgotten to tuck himself away.

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fatecantstopme · 6 months ago

Text

Lustful Agony

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x plus size!reader

Summary: It's sex pollen, aka my favorite trope.

Warnings: cursing, use of pet names, an insane amount of smut, dubcon (cuz sex pollen), unprotected sex (p in v), oral (F receiving), masturbation (F).

"Would you please be careful?" you snapped.

Your partner froze and offered you a sheepish smile. "Sorry, doc. I wasn't paying attention."

"I noticed," you huffed. "There are any number of things in here that could kill us, so tread lightly."

"Maybe I should wait here."

You glanced in his direction and nodded. "You know what? Good idea. Stay there and don't touch anything."

You continued on through the dusty lab, hoping to find at least one working computer, but after 20 minutes, it seemed hopeless. Every computer had been destroyed and most of the paper files had been shredded or burned. All that remained was hundreds of glass vials filled with various liquids and gases that did gods-only-knew what.

"I'm starting to think this might be a burn and run," you called back to Bucky--still standing where you'd left him on the other side of the lab.

"If we blow this place, is there gonna be a toxic cloud?"

You shot an annoyed look in his direction. "I said 'burn', James, not 'blow'. We're not blowing up a lab filled with unknown chemicals and biological agents."

"Right, yeah." He looked at the ground, feeling slightly embarrassed. He always seemed to make a fool of himself in front of you and he hated it. He never wanted to be the fool, especially around you.

Your well-trained eyes scanned the room again before falling on a secured biological containment chamber. You knew that would be the best option for storing items for burning. All you'd need to do was get all the bio vials into the chamber and light it up.

You crossed the room to the chamber, feeling Bucky's eyes following you. He hated being in a position where he felt like he couldn't protect you, but he was out of his element here. As the resident hazardous materials expert, this was your area of brilliance.

You grumbled in annoyance when you noticed the lock on the containment chamber was activated. You were familiar with this particular model, and if you were lucky, these Hydra assholes hadn't been smart enough to bother changing the code. You input the pin, silently crossing your fingers, a smile spreading across your face when you heard the distinct sound of the mechanism unlocking.

You lifted the hood slowly, hoping to find the chamber empty. You had a momentary thought that you and Bucky should be wearing appropriate PPE, but the thought occurred to you too late.

A sound of surprise escaped your lips as a puff of sweet-smelling pink dust blew into your face from inside the cabinet. The tactical suit and gloves you were wearing did nothing to protect your respiratory system from the unknown substance.

The dust seemed to dissolve almost instantly, fading into nothingness before you could even alert Bucky to the hazard. He, of course, had heard your surprised gasp, thanks to his super soldier hearing.

"Doc? Everything okay?" he called worriedly.

"Not sure," you replied. "I, uh, I got hit in the face with some pink dust...and I'm willing to bet it's not fairy dust."

Bucky's blood ran cold. "Pink dust?"

"Yeah, smelled like some kind of super sweet candy--or those sugary wine coolers I drank in college."

Any color that remained in Bucky's face quickly drained. "Look at me."

His tone was so firm, it frightened you. Bucky normally joked around with you, but you could hear the fear in his voice and it scared you more than anything else.

You turned to face him and his expression confirmed your fears. "Do you know what it is?"

Bucky nodded. "I think so, but we won't know for sure for at least 30 minutes, possibly longer."

"Am I going to die?" your voice was so soft--so small--that even he almost didn't hear it.

"Not if I can help it."

When your eyes met his piercing blue orbs, he could see the terror reflected in them. He wanted to go to you, help you, but he knew he couldn't--not if you still had even the slightest trace of the dust on you.

"You need to rinse off before we get out of here," Bucky said calmly. "If it's what I think it is, then I can't get that stuff anywhere near me."

"Why? What'll happen?"

Bucky's gaze didn't quite meet yours. "I will tear you apart and not even realize it."

His words cut you like a knife. You knew deep in your soul Bucky would never hurt you, but if this substance could turn him into a wild animal, you wondered what the hell it was going to do to you.

You'd spotted a decontamination area when you'd first entered the lab, so you slowly made your way there, careful to avoid getting anywhere near Bucky.

Bucky radioed in to Sam to give him an update on the situation. You heard him describing what had happened and asking for another team to be sent in to destroy the facility.

You stood under the spray of the shower head and let the water pummel your skin. The pressure was almost painful, but you knew it was necessary to ensure the substance was no longer on your skin. You'd inhaled it, so you were screwed, but there was no reason for Bucky to be too.

After several minutes, you felt comfortable saying you were clean. You just wanted to get the hell out of this lab and back home.

You voiced as much to Bucky, but he shook his head slowly. "You're not gonna make it all the way home, (Y/N)."

You didn't like Bucky's use of your first name in this context...he always called you 'doc', and the change made you feel like death was around the corner.

Your face must have given away your fear because he continued. "I just mean you won't make it home before the symptoms start. Once they do, you won't want to be around anyone."

"So what do we do?"

"Safe house. It's our only option."

You groaned inwardly. You had zero desire to stay in that drafty little cabin another night, but you trusted Bucky's instincts, so you simply nodded.

Bucky was quick to usher you back to the quinjet, filling you in on his conversation with Sam. "He'll send in another team in full Level A hazmat gear. They'll take care of the place."

"Okay."

"You alright, doc? How you feelin'?"

"I feel fine so far. Just moderately terrified."

"Don't be. You're gonna be fine."

You wanted to believe him--really you did--but there was something in his voice that made you question if he even believed it.

By the time the jet touched down by the cabin, 25 minutes had passed since the moment of infection. Bucky still hadn't told you what you were dealing with and it was driving you insane.

You followed Bucky into the cabin and watched him drop his bag on the floor. He turned to look at you, eyes clearly sizing you up, checking to see if you were okay.

"Just tell me," you whispered--somewhere between a plea and a demand.

He sighed deeply. "How do you feel?"

You closed your eyes and took mental stock of your body, seeking anything out of the ordinary. "I feel hot, but that could just be the anxiety."

"How hot?"

"I don't know, like feverish, I guess."

Bucky groaned and the sound sent a wave of need through your body--a need that shocked you to your very core. This was absolutely not the time for your stupid crush to rear its head.

"Please don't hit me, okay? I'm just gonna touch your hand."

"Why would I hit you?" you asked a second before his flesh hand met yours. The feeling was pleasant and it warmed you from the inside out, until he removed his hand. You inhaled sharply as an intense pain you couldn't describe shot through you.

Bucky jerked his hand away, his worst fears confirmed. "I know what it is."

"Please," you whimpered.

"It's a biological agent Hydra developed when their attempts to make a useable super soldier serum failed. It was designed to induce a euphoric sexual state that would result in agony and possible death if penetrative sex was not performed and an orgasm was not achieved."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Hydra believed they could create super soldiers the old fashion way--by breeding them. Sprinkle some of the magic dust on a super soldier and he'd fuck his way through a room full of women without a single care for their well-being. They called it 'sex pollen'."

Your breathing was labored as pain began to spread through your body. You tried desperately to ignore it and focus on Bucky's words. "What happened?"

Bucky couldn't look at you as he responded softly, "None of the women survived the mating process."

You realized now what he'd meant back at the lab. You didn't really want to know, but you found yourself asking the question anyway, "Did they do it to you?"

Bucky closed his eyes, desperately trying to push the dark memories back down. "Yeah. They did."

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Bucky shook his head, banishing the memories. "It doesn't matter. What matters now is how we handle this."

"If the sex pollen had that kind of effect on a super soldier, what's it gonna do to me?"

"I imagine it's going to be significantly worse for you if you don't...umm--if you don't reach climax."

"So I have to orgasm? Seriously?"

"I wish it were that simple."

Before you could respond, you doubled over in pain, an agonized groan escaping your parted lips.

Bucky rushed to you without thinking and laid his hands on your arms. You let out a pained whine and he pulled away, suddenly remembering what was happening.

"It feels like my skin is on fire," you cried.

"I know, doll. I know."

It was killing Bucky not to be able to help you. He was your protector in every situation, but he couldn't protect you from this. He knew exactly what kind of hell you were in for and it nearly broke him.

The waves of pain subsided and you were able to pull yourself upright. "Well this is fun," you mumbled.

"It's gonna get worse, (Y/N). Much, much worse."

"That's comforting, Buck. Thank you."

He gave you a sad look. "You can't do this alone."

"What do you mean?"

"The pollen was designed to force the creation of life...the only way to alleviate the pain is to give the pollen what it wants."

Your brain had become too muddled to understand what he was saying. "Plain English, Buck. Please."

"You, uh, you have to have sex."

"So you're saying I can't just masturbate this away?"

Bucky shook his head. "You have to have sex and your partner has to umm--ejaculate inside you."

Another wave of pain raked its claws through your skin, but you managed to stay upright this time. "What happens if I don't?"

You saw the look of sadness on Bucky's face and you knew you wouldn't like his answer. "You'll die."

"Well, fuck." You winced, reaching out to grab the back of the couch for stability. The pain was only increasing and you knew it was a matter of time before you couldn't take it any longer. "How sure are you that I'll die?"

"I mean, I don't know any regular humans that survived contact with the pollen. They were used as test subjects during its creation."

"I swear, Hydra gets more disgusting every time I learn something new."

Bucky was dying to help you. Seeing you in pain was agonizing for him and he knew his pain paled in comparison to yours. He would do anything for you--all you need do was ask.

"I'm gonna try waiting it out," you said firmly.

"What?" Bucky said, shock evident in his tone.

"I'm sure as hell not gonna force you to fuck me, Bucky. So I'm gonna wait it out."

"(Y/N), you're not forcing me to do anything. I'm offering to help. I don't want you to die."

You shook your head. "I'd rather die than force you into this."

"I'm offering--"

"Don't," you snapped. "No matter what you say, I'm going to feel like I'm forcing you to do something and I can't deal with that. So please, let me try to handle this alone."

Bucky knew for a fact he could overpower you with ease, especially when you were in such a state. He could make the pain stop and you would be glad for it in the moment. But he couldn't do it. He would never ever hurt you like that, even if it meant watching you die. It just wasn't something he was capable of.

"Okay, doll."

You could tell he didn't want to agree, but you were glad he wasn't arguing. All you wanted to do was tear your clothes off and try to find some sort of relief. The fire burning under your skin was intensifying by the second.

"I'm gonna take a cold shower and lock myself in the bedroom. Please stay out here."

Bucky simply nodded. He wanted to sit on this couch and listen to the sounds of your pain about as much as he wanted to get shot in the face. But he respected you too much to ignore your wishes.

You dragged yourself into the bathroom and stripped down to nothing before climbing into the cold shower. The frigid water seemed to help at first, but you discovered the effects were short-lived.

You leaned your head against the cold tile and let out a pained sob. You wanted the pain to stop so badly, but you didn't want to involve Bucky. You couldn't. Bucky was your closest friend and partner. His was the relationship you valued most in life and you wouldn't risk it for anything. It didn't matter you were in love with him. It didn't matter you'd wanted him from the moment you'd laid eyes on him. What mattered is you knew he didn't feel the same.

Bucky had a new girl in his bed several times a week. You were pretty sure you'd never seen the same girl twice in the three years you'd known him. Each one was a tall, blonde, model-thin, gorgeous woman. You didn't check a single one of those boxes. You didn't think Bucky was shallow, he just had a type. He was one of the hottest men you'd ever seen, so it only made sense for him to be with the hottest women.

You didn't think you were ugly, by any means. You just weren't his type. You were shorter, very curvy, girl-next-door average. You'd accepted it long ago and vowed to never tell him how you felt for fear of jeopardizing your friendship. Your current situation was as close as you could get to your biggest fear and you weren't willing to risk it. You loved him too much to lose him entirely. Even if he insisted he was willing to help, you knew he would come to regret it. Things would be awkward between you and eventually your friendship would come to an end.

"Not worth the risk," you muttered to yourself.

The cooling effects of the shower had long since worn off, so you turned off the water and grabbed a towel. As you wrapped it around your body, you found it was too small to cover everything and the scratchy material was painful against your overly sensitive skin.

You dropped the towel to the ground and opened the door a crack. "Bucky?"

"Yeah, doll?"

"Um, the towel hurts my skin, so um...please don't look while I walk to the bedroom."

Bucky inhaled deeply, calming himself. Sure, he wasn't impacted by the pollen, but the fact that your naked body was a few feet away from him certainly did.

"I'll close my eyes."

You tentatively opened the door and peeked out. You could see Bucky sitting on the couch, eyes closed as promised. You quickly rushed from the bathroom to the open bedroom door, shutting it behind you. In your haste to get out of sight, you neglected to lock the door.

You nearly collapsed onto the bed, the need to feel some relief the only thing on your mind. Normally, you would have been embarrassed to even consider touching yourself when Bucky was so close by, but this was an extreme circumstance. You mentally told yourself you needed to be quiet at the very least, given his excellent hearing.

You tried to get as comfortable as you could, but it was impossible. The only parts of your body that didn't ache were the ones you were actively touching. You slipped your dominant hand between your legs and felt another wave of embarrassment hit when you felt just how wet you were.

The moment your fingers brushed between your folds, you let out a loud moan. You slapped your hand across your mouth and hoped Bucky mistook the sound for one of pain.

Bucky was breathing heavily as he sat on the couch less than 10 feet from the bedroom door. He could hear every tiny little sound you made, even as you desperately tried to stay quiet.

He knew he shouldn't be turned on by those sounds--not when you were experiencing something so awful--but he couldn't help it. He'd dreamed of hearing you moan for him a hundred times before. It took all his will-power to not bust down that door and give you what you needed.

You let out a particularly obscene moan and Bucky had to stifle his own. His cock strained against his pants and he hated himself for being turned on. He tried to tell himself it wasn't his fault--he'd wanted you for years--but he couldn't shake the feeling of shame.

Ten minutes went by and the sounds coming from the bedroom continued. Bucky gripped the back of the couch with all his strength, determined to not give himself even a modicum of pleasure from this.

Another five minutes passed and he heard you let out a pained sob. His heart skipped a beat and he listened closely for any more noise. He heard the distinct sounds of you crying and his resolve broke. He immediately went to your door and knocked.

"Doll? You okay?"

"It hurts so much," you whimpered.

He leaned his forehead against the door. "I know, sweetheart. Please let me help you. Please."

He could hear you writhing around on the bed, whimpers of pain reaching his ears and making him tear up.

"I can't--it didn't work," you cried. "I'm so hot--it hurts."

"Please, baby," Bucky begged. He placed his hand on the doorknob, dying to turn it and get to you.

"Bucky," you whimpered.

The pain in that one simple word made his decision for him. He turned the knob and was surprised to find the door unlocked. He opened the door a crack, but kept his eyes away from the bed.

"Let me help you," he pleaded again.

Your eyes roamed his gorgeous figure and you let out a choked sob. Nothing else mattered in that moment--all you could think about was him.

"Make it stop," you begged him.

Bucky's eyes snapped open, meeting yours in a desperately hungry look. He didn't say a word, didn't even allow his brain to process the deeper meaning of what he was about to do. You'd asked him to help you--to stop the pain--so that was exactly what he was going to do.

He stripped out of his tactical suit as fast as possible, leaving himself in his boxer briefs, cock straining to be set free.

You reached out a hand to him and he went to you without a thought. He climbed onto the bed, hovering over you as his eyes scanned your face.

"Are you sure about this, doll?" he asked softly.

"I need you," you whimpered back.

Those three little words shattered the sliver of resolve he'd had left. His lips met yours in a hungry, devouring kiss--all teeth and tongue. His hands latched onto your soft curves, touching every inch of skin he could reach.

Everywhere he touched felt like ice against your burning skin. The sensation both incredible and painful all at once. Whatever bit of shyness or insecurity you had was wiped away by the sheer intensity of it all.

Bucky's lips attacked your neck, your jaw, your collarbone--nipping and sucking bruising marks into your skin. While it felt good, it wasn't nearly enough.

"Need more."

Bucky nudged his knee between your legs to spread them wider for him. "I know, baby. I know."

He quickly descended down to your aching core, blowing hot air against it in a teasing manner. You whined and scratched at his scalp, reminding him this was not the time for teasing.

He flicked his tongue between your pussy lips, seeking out your clit immediately. The second his tongue brushed against it, you cried out in pleasure--the first real feeling of relief you'd had since you'd been infected.

Bucky smiled to himself as he settled in to properly feast on your pussy, reveling in the essence of you against his tongue, invading all of his senses.

You gripped his hair in one hand and the sheet in the other, gyrating wildly as Bucky ate you with abandon. The pleasure was blinding, but you could still feel the undercurrent of raging fire flowing through your veins.

Bucky seemed to instinctively know exactly what you enjoyed, following your body like he had a roadmap to your pleasure points. He sent you over the edge with ease three times before finally coming up for air.

You reached for him, still hungry for more. "Bucky."

"I'm here, baby." He kissed you deeply, hands gripping your hips tightly. He wanted to take his time with you, but he knew he couldn't--you needed more from him and you needed it now.

He was quick to discard his underwear before lining himself up with your entrance. His cock nudged against your aching hole and you both moaned.

"Please, please, please, please..." you begged.

Bucky knew what you needed and he wasted no time sheathing himself inside of you. You cried out in pain as his cock stretched you more than you'd ever experienced before. The pain quickly subsided into pleasure and the pollen seemed to sense its purpose was near.

You felt a surge of need and you begged him to fuck you. "I need it, please, Bucky."

"I've got you, sweetheart." He began to thrust gently, trying his best not to hurt you. The sensations began to overwhelm him as much as they were overwhelming you, prompting him to move faster--losing himself in the feeling of you.

"Fuck, baby. You take my cock so well."

Your pussy fluttered in response, a soft whine escaping your lips.

"Best pussy I've ever had. So tight and wet for me. Made for me, weren't you?"

You nodded rapidly, not really registering what he was saying.

"How many times you think I can make you cum, baby? Six? Seven? Think the pollen can get you there?"

Your eyes widened at his words. Unsure if that was possible even with pollen.

Bucky grinned down at you. "I think I can get seven. Bet this pussy will give me whatever I want, won't she? Gonna make my girl scream my name all night long."

You felt the coil in your belly snap as another orgasm rushed through you. You clung to Bucky, a string of profanity spilling past your lips.

Bucky didn't let you come down from it before pushing your body towards another orgasm. He wanted to feel you gripping his cock like this as long as possible--especially since he might never feel it again.

"Baby, you feel so good," he murmured, placing soft kisses to your face. "Love the way you're squeezing me."

"Feels so good, Bucky," you moaned.

"Fuck, been wanting to hear you say that for so long. Needed to be inside this tight little pussy so badly. It's better than I ever imagined."

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wanted to ask what he meant--if he'd really imagined it, but you were too far gone to articulate a coherent thought.

As another orgasm crashed into you, you momentarily wondered if it was possible to die from overwhelming pleasure. You'd been in so much pain for so long and the sudden change to blinding pleasure was incredible. It was unlike anything you'd ever experienced.

"How many more can you give me, sweetheart?"

"Wanfeelcum," you mumbled incoherently.

"What was that, baby? Too fucked out to speak?"

"Wanna feel you cum, Bucky," you begged.

He was already so close to the edge he nearly lost control at the sound of your voice. But if he was being honest with himself, he didn't want this to end. He was scared if he came, if he gave you what you needed, then you'd be satiated and it would all be over.

"Need to feel you cum on my cock at least one more time, baby."

You whimpered, but nodded your consent.

Bucky picked up the pace, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. You weren't sure whether it was the pollen or his skill, but you went flying over the edge of blinding pleasure with an intensity you'd never experienced. You screamed his name as the waves crashed over you, pussy gushing juices as you squirted all over his cock and abdomen.

"Fuck yeah, baby. So fucking sexy..." he murmured. "Gonna fill you up. Give you what you want."

"Want your cum," you begged.

"That's right, pretty girl. Gonna give you my cum. Fill up this sweet pussy till you're stuffed."

"Yes, Bucky! Please!"

Bucky's hips stuttered as he came, filling your pussy with ropes of warm cum. Bucky kept thrusting slowly as he whispered your name into your skin over and over like a prayer.

Slowly, the haze created by the sex pollen began to fade, leaving you completely blissed out. Awareness of what you'd done began to creep in, but the feel of Bucky's weight on top of you kept you in the moment.

He finally slowed to a halt, but his lips were still pressing into your hot skin. After several more moments, he raised himself up just enough to kiss you sweetly, making sure you felt his adoration.

The moment he rolled off you, the full weight of what you'd done hit you like a ton of bricks. If your body would have cooperated, you would have turned over onto your side, curled up in a ball, and cried.

Bucky felt the sudden shift in your demeanor and he felt his heart clench in his chest. "(Y/N/N)..."

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Surprise lit up his face. "What?"

"I shouldn't have done that--I'm so sorry."

"I'm gonna stop you right there." He sat up a little so he could look down at your face. You wouldn't meet his gaze, but he continued anyway. "Don't you dare think for a single second that I did something I didn't want to do. You were in pain and I couldn't let that stand. I would do anything for you, (Y/N). Anything. I don't regret it and I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

Your eyes finally raised to meet his and you saw nothing but honesty in his gaze. You knew he cared about you, but you were still worried you'd crossed a line neither of you could come back from.

Bucky stared at your face, taking in just how incredibly beautiful you were. He was trying to commit it to memory--never wanting to forget any bit of it.

"Thank you," you whispered.

Bucky shook his head. "You don't have to thank me, doll. Like I said, I wanted to." He paused for a moment, a silent war raging inside of him. He seemed to make a decision and once he did, the words just flowed from his mouth. "I mean it, (Y/N). I've wanted to for years--wanted you for years. I never wanted it to happen like this, but fuck baby...here we are. I would do anything you asked of me, okay? I'll rip my own heart out and light it on fire if you ask me to. So if you ask me to pretend this never happened, I will, but I need you to know I don't want to. I want to make love to you over and over again, hear you scream my name, watch your beautiful face as you fall apart for me...I want you. I will always want you."

You were completely breathless by the time he stopped talking. The words coming out of his mouth weren't what you'd ever expected to hear. "You want me?"

"I've always wanted you. Every part of you. Inside and out."

"What about all the other women?"

"What?"

"The ones you bring home all the time."

He touched your face gently, turning your head to look at him directly. "They're fine for a night, but they're not you. They were a poor substitute for the woman I really wanted, but couldn't have."

"Bucky..."

He looked a little crestfallen, mistaking your tone for rejection. "It's okay if you don't feel the same--"

Your hand gently pressed against his lips, shutting him up instantly. "If I could move properly, I would have kissed you to shut you up."

His eyes lit up and a small smile played on his lips.

"Of course I feel the same. Of course I want you. I only pushed you away tonight because I didn't want to lose you. I was afraid you would regret it."

He leaned down so he was inches away from your lips. "Oh sweetheart, I could never regret anything to do with you."

Your lips curled up in a sweet smile. "Really?"

"Mhmm."

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"Any chance we can make love? I wanna be in the moment...really in it."

"Right now?" he asked in surprise.

You nodded.

His lips met yours in a loving kiss. "I'm more than happy to oblige."

You grinned as he rolled back on top of you, lips pressing against yours hungrily.

"I'll make love to you as many times as you want. Whatever you want, I'll give you. Just ask."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

You smirked slowly. "Then I might have some ideas..."

"Oh really?"

"Oh yes." You pulled his face down to yours to whisper some of your inner desires into his ear.

"My god," he murmured. "You're gonna be the death of me."

You laughed lightly and he joined in before pulling you in for a passionate kiss, dead-set on giving you everything you wanted and more.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader smut #plus size reader smut #plus size reader #marvel smut #bucky barnes smut #sex pollen

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ebodebo · 1 month ago

Text

Bite to Break Skin

—hear me out: simon as your new boxing coach…

current warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, fem!reader, p in v, mentions of evil nasty men, bad interruptions of boxing lol, cliche as hell, but cutie, boob play, teasing, ghost being a bastard, some fingering, making you be still idk the term, multiple orgasms, & nasty kissing through his mask.

"Goes by Ghost," Mac, the older man who owned the gym you frequented, said, leading you to the back section, where the boxing room was.

"He's one of the best God-damn soldiers I've ever met, I'll tell you what. Saw him take out some insurgent with just his bare hands," he gruffly laughs out before glancing at your doe-eyed state.

His eyes soften, putting his hand on your shoulder lightly.

"He's a secret softie. He'll take good care of you."

You tightly grip the bag over your other shoulder as he leads you to the room this Ghost guy was in, your nerves getting the better of you.

Mac grips the handle, but before he pulls on it, he turns to look at you. "He's not so good at casual conversation. Might be a little blunt, but most vets are. Just try to have fun, okay?"

You nod meekly as he pulls the door open for you to step inside, closing it behind you as you fully step inside.

The room is dimly lit, with the only source of light coming from a few small windows high up on the wall.

You are in a relatively small room with punching bags, speedballs, and jump ropes neatly hung on the wall.

"You the new girl?" A deep, English voice boomed around the room in an echo.

You turn around quickly to be met with just about the hottest guy you've ever seen.

He was tall, with a muscular build.

He wore a plain white t-shirt, dark gray sweatpants, a simple black Manchester United football cap, and a simple black mask covering his face's lower half.

"I—yes. I am," you stutter out, feeling a sudden surge of nervousness.

"Got gloves?" He gruffly questions, grabbing some focus mitts for himself and slipping off his cap.

"Yeah," you sputter, moving to set your duffle bag down to fumble through it before pulling out a pair of bright pink boxing gloves.

"Cute," he hums lowly as he sees you slip the neon gloves on, nearing back towards him.

You feel your face warm at his, granted dry compliment, but a compliment nonetheless. "Thanks," you murmur, now standing in front of him.

"Let's work on your stance." He demonstrates a broad, balanced stance. "A good stance gives you more power and speed."

"What if my stance isn't wide enough?" You question, awkwardly mimicking him, feeling out of your element.

"You get socked," he says casually. "Widen your legs."

Oh. Oh no.

There was no flirty undertone whatsoever, though you couldn't help how your stomach fluttered at the ask.

How the hell were you going to be able to work with him?

"If you were to break like that," his voice is low, distinctly gravelly.

"Out there," he raises his hand to point out the window.

"You're gettin' your ass handed to you."

You nod lightly, inhaling a deep breath, determined to clear your mind and focus on the task.

"Focus," he rasps as you adjust your stance to widen your legs.

"Good. Now throw a jab," he orders, his eyes narrowing.

You raise a brow in confusion. "At what?"

"The air," he monotonously says, raising one of his brows.

You turn to look over your shoulder. "The bag is right there?"

He lets out an irritated sigh. "And if I wanted you to punch the bag, I would have said so," he mutters in a sharp, caustic tone.

"Just throw a punch."

You tentatively throw a jab, feeling an odd sense of adrenaline.

"Rotate your hips," he commands. "Generates power."

You nod, throwing yet another jab, this time with a confident hip rotation, making your punch faster and more powerful.

"Good girl," he gruffs. "Let's get you to practice your cross."

You spent the next thirty minutes or so reviewing various punch and foot techniques and only slightly googling him, growing increasingly impatient.

Hell, you didn't think you would be doing hard combat at the first go around, but you thought you'd be doing something a helluva bit more interesting than just punching some guys' hands.

"Is this all this session is going to be?" You grunt out, laying a punch to his mitt. "Punching your hand."

There's a flicker of amusement in his eyes before he shakes his head from side to side. "You're not ready for more."

"Come on," you probe with a sly tone. "The whole point of this is so I learn self-protection. Some guy in an alley could try to rob me. I should learn something more practical."

He narrows his eyes at you before taking a breath. "Fine."

"Wait, really?" You ask with perplexity.

He shrugs. "You want practical? I'll give you practical."

You nod your head because hell yeah.

He's finally going to teach you something you can actually use.

"Block me," he mumbles, tossing his focus mitts to the side.

You let out a dry laugh. "I can't block you."

"Thought you wanted to learn more self-protection?" He clicks his tongue.

"Well, yeah...but I can't take you," you cross over your chest.

He lets out an arid chuckle.

"Sweetheart," he begins. "Most men that prey on women are built; they prey on women because they think they're weak. An easy target."

Your eyes shift to the ground, looking at the dark blue rubber flooring you stand on.

"How bout' we show them you're not?" He tips his head towards you.

You bite your bottom lip in between your teeth until you taste a coppery liquid coat your tongue.

"Well?" He urges, crossing his arms over his chest.

You glance up at him, inhaling a deep puff of air, before nodding your head and issuing a crisp, 'Fine.'

He gives you a curt nod, flexing his hands. "Gloves up."

"Don't take it easy on me," you say, raising your hands to assume a blocking position.

He raises his hands. "Wasn't going to."

You puff out a breath, feeling confident despite your little training.

He threw a jab, precise and fast, to your left side.

You could feel the rush of air as his fist sliced through the space, the sound of his knuckles cutting the silence.

You raised your arm to block it, but his punch was just a feint, and he quickly followed it up with a cross.

You tried blocking the cross, but his punch was too strong.

His blow sent you stumbling backward, but you refused to give in, your arms flailing wildly to try and find balance, though to no avail.

As you fell, Ghost tried to grab you, but his own feet got tangled in ropes, and together, you both hit the mat, his hand extending out to rest beside you before his body weight fell on you.

You both just lay there, panting and tangled.

Your nails dig into the flooring beneath you to suppress your nerves and the hoard of butterflies swarming in your stomach.

He has yet to look at you, his eyes wandering about the flooring as he catches his breath.

His eyes flick to yours already on him.

"What?" He almost spits, the tension in his voice palpable.

"You—you have pretty eyes," you sputter out, your vulnerability laid bare.

There's a beat of silence.

With your eyes still locked on his, the air thickens, building an intense anticipation.

Until his masked lips, a tempting mystery, dip down and consume your lips in a passionate kiss.

You can feel the outline of his lips on yours, a tangible connection as you reciprocate the ferry kiss with equal fervor.

Your skin is sizzling.

You're sure if someone took a match to your skin, you would be set ablaze.

All you can hear is your own heartbeat as he pants through the mask, lips feverishly sucking on yours through the fabric.

His fingers fumble with the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head desperately as you throw your gloves off to the side.

"Christ," he mutters into your lips as he gropes your breast through your bra.

You let out a whine at the contact, placing your hand over his, pawing at your breast, holding it tightly so he doesn't move it.

His hand squeezes your covered breast before his fingers skim down to the band of your bra, slipping his pointer under to skim your sensitive nipple.

Your mouth hangs agape as his fingers prod the sensitive bud, flicking it and moving it against the rough pad of his finger.

"Sensitive one," he tuts, taking his finger out and instead reaching to unclasp your bra, letting your breasts pour out freely.

His coarse hand wastes no time fondling your bare breast, pointer, and thumb, going back to roll your nipple between the two fingers.

You squirm under his touch, equal parts aroused and impatient.

"You're impatient," he observes, his fingers still tweaking your nipple.

"I just—need you," your voice is already strained. "Can't wait."

The corners of his eyes crinkle, insinuating a smile—what a bastard.

"Oh," he hums in a condescending tone. "Thought you were going to be a patient girl," his finger skims down to the waistband of your pants before he pulls it away. "Was I mistaken?"

"No—no. I can be...patient," you force out, already mourning the contact.

"You sure?" He questions, his tone low and sultry.

"Because only patient girls get to come."

You release an anguished moan at his words, issuing a hurried, breathless 'Yes.'

"You gonna be a good girl and let me play with you?" He brings his hand back to skim over your stomach.

Your eyes flick to his, full of irritation.

"I said yes," you say through gritted teeth.

He dips his head forward, eyes narrowing at your tone.

"You're still impatient," his tone is low as he pulls his hand away again.

You shake your head from side to side, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "I—no. I can be patient."

His eyes glaze over your face—sincerity apparent in your eyes.

He hums in acknowledgment, bringing his hand back to skim the warmth of your body.

"Fuckin' perfect," he mutters under his breath as he drops to his knees so one of your legs is in between them.

His fingers move to dip under the waistband of your pants before gripping either side and slipping them down over your thighs.

He eyes the fresh wet spot on your underwear, reaching out to touch it with a finger.

You let out a whine as your body thrusts forward at his touch.

His eyes snap back to yours in warning.

As his fingers rub easily over the fabric, you sink back into the floor. You suck in a breath, fingers balling into a fist as you close your eyes.

"None of that," he gruffs, gripping the sides of your underwear and slipping them off smoothly. "Open."

Your eyes snapped open to meet his dark ones, peering at you.

"Good girl," he praises, his pointer rubbing over your slit that was already coated with your arousal. "You're soaked, Sweetheart."

You hold a whine in your throat as his finger moves to swirl inside you.

He begins pulsing his finger inside you, prodding against your sensitive clit.

You remain still as his finger moves against you, only moving your mouth to let out an occasional whiney moan.

"Look at you," he coos. "Bein' so good for me."

His finger picks up pace, moving against your clit with much pace.

"Can you take more?" He grunts out.

You hastily nod your head—aching with the need for relief.

When he adds his middle finger into the mix, you swear you see heaven—or something very near.

He's panting as his fingers move inside you with urgency, as you let out breathless wails and feel your lower stomach start to tighten.

"I'm gonna—come," you whine, head throwing back as you squeeze your eyes shut.

"Can tell. Squeezin' my fingers so tight," he groans.

It only takes a couple more pumps of his fingers for you to come undone.

Crying out in relief, chest heaving, legs shaking.

His name falls off your tongue as you come from his fingers.

Talk about a wet dream come to life.

You're still panting, coming down from your high, as Ghost reaches for the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear, tugging them down to unveil his painfully erect cock, the tip already leaking some pre-come.

"I won't last too long," you sputter with equal parts anticipation and excitement as he gives his cock a nice tug, hissing a little at the contact.

"Oh, trust me," he wheezes. "Me neither."

"But I need to feel you."

You feel your face warm, your stomach tighten, and your throat dry.

All of a sudden, you're aroused despite having just came.

He positions himself to line up against your entrance, eyes locking on yours. "Ready?"

You nod, gripping his shoulders tightly. "Ready," you affirm.

He pushes his cock into your already-soaked entrance with ease, grousing as his teeth clench.

"Shit. You're tight, Baby," he mumbles, pushing himself into you deeper—still not moving the entirety of his cock in.

"Sorry," you murmur breathlessly.

"Don't apologize," he says instantaneously, hand moving to rest on the nape of your neck. "Feels fuckin' good."

Your eyes glint at the compliment, though squeeze shut as he starts pumping in and out of—feeling so full, yet empty.

"Need—need more," your voice is coarse. "Put it all in."

His eyes widen slightly. "You sure you can handle it all?"

You hiss out a breath. "I can."

He nods, pushing the rest of his cock inside you.

Your head falls back, mouth opening to make noise before he bends down to capture all the wines he elicits that slip through your lips.

His mask is soaked.

You can feel the wet fabric against your damp skin.

It's hot. Really hot.

You could probably get off to just making out with him.

The outline of his tongue moves under the mask to trace the outline of your teeth, fabric lightly snagging on them.

You groan into his mouth as you're wildly sucking at the fabric, franticly seeking his tongue and lips.

"Fuck, Baby," he curses, his pace picking up.

"You're so good—so good."

You moan into his mouth, mouth hanging open over his masked one, as you feel yet another orgasm approaching.

"I know—I know," he murmurs before you say anything.

He can feel you.

You press your mouth back to his, your tongue coming out to push through the fabric before you tighten around him.

He lets out a gravelly moan as he feels you come, gripping you tighter as he comes himself.

He lets his forehead fall against yours as both your chests rise and fall almost simultaneously.

A curse falls from his lips as he pulls out of you, easing his underwear and sweatpants back up.

His eyes lock to yours. "Need help?" He asks with sincerity.

Your lip quips, shaking your head. "I can manage."

You pull your pants up, only slightly hissing, before gripping your shirt and pulling over your head.

He helps you to your feet, reaching down to grab your bra.

You shoo his hand away. "Keep it."

His eyes narrow as he smiles under his mask.

Grabbing your duffle bag, you sling it over your shoulder, shoving your gloves in it.

"That was great—really great, but what if someone does try something?" You ask, your concern evident in your tone.

"Don't need to worry about that," he simply says, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What? But what if—" You begin before he interrupts.

"Just...listen to me. Yeah?" He murmurs.

You narrow your eyes before your eyes soften up. "Yeah. Okay, okay."

"Come back tomorrow. Show you some new moves," he shrugs.

"Similar to today, yes?" You cheekily ask.

He lets out a dry laugh. "If you want."

"Can't wait," you chirp. "See you."

He gives a curt nod as you approach the door. You offer him a bright smile as you turn back, pushing the door open with purpose.

Stepping outside, you leave him to reflect on your interaction, giving him time to reminisce about the encounter for the next twenty-four hours until he feels you again.

You still wanted to learn how to protect yourself independently, but it didn't hurt that you had unexpectedly attained your very own guard dog, who wasn't scared to draw blood.

Just give him the command.

a/n: i can’t believe i haven’t done this before...we also don't need to talk about the logistics of this, okay?

divider!

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

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figthoughts · 2 months ago

Text

night time routine with bf!soldier boy ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings: smut, oral (m. receiving), degradation, spit play, manhandling, est. relationship (dom!bf!soldier boy x gf!reader) 18+

𝜗𝜚˚｡⋆

it’s almost funny how good you are; getting on your knees every night and taking ben’s thick pink cock. he forces his length in as deep as you can take it as you try your best not to gag around him.

he hums in approval with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, his lips covered in the foamy toothpaste with his eyes locked on you. jesus, you’re a sight.

you’re his good girl, looking after him on the floor of the bathroom; helping him wind down while he brushes his teeth— it’s routine at this point, taking his heavy cock that fits so snug in that sweet little mouth of yours.

“such a good little slut for me,” he chuckles with a mouth full of toothpaste as his eyes trace over you.

he pats your head condescendingly, like a dog, and keeps fucking his length deeper at a steady pace. your pretty wide eyes look up at him, trailing up from the tuft of hair right in front of your nose, to his jade green eyes. he smirks down at you, enjoying the way you take him so obediently.

god, you were his good girl. his best fucking girl.

you grumble around his cock at his head pat, earning another laugh from ben as he continues brushing his teeth. the sound of him brushing and the wet squelching noises from your mouth bounce off the tile of the bathroom.

his smug attitude is almost suffocating and his piercing stare makes your heart skip a beat. he loves having you like this, seeing your eyes well with tears as his tip hits the back of your throat with every damn thrust.

christ, you take him so well.

you’re actually a little convinced that he brushes his teeth torturously long on purpose, just wanting to keep his dick down your throat for as long as possible.

he’s a bastard like that, keeping you on your knees until they’re pink and tender while you try not to choke on him. you honestly don’t know how long you spend down there most nights. hell, as soon as he taps his tip against your lips, silently telling you to part them, your brain turns to mush and you take it anyway.

ben fucks your mouth how he knows you like it— like a good little slut for him. his free hand grips your hair into a makeshift ponytail, slamming your face against him. the way your throat tightens around his bulbous pink tip makes his breath catch in his throat. you’re just so fucking good.

when he finally cums, he keeps your face forced against his abdomen, forcing you to take every drop of his seed. he twitches and shoots his load into your throat without a care. the deep husky moans that escape him cause a warm heat to pool in your stomach. he’s just so incredibly sexy and masculine— it always makes you a little woozy.

“fuuuck, doll. such a good girl. my perfect fuckin’ slut,” he blabs on as he cums. his pretty green eyes are squeezed shut as his face contorts in pleasure; his brows pinched and his jaw dropped, taking in deep breaths.

a moan bubbles up your throat, bringing ben back to the moment as he comes down. his eyes drop to you and your pretty lips wrapped around him so perfectly. he enjoys the way you’re so messy with spit drooling out of your mouth.

“jesus, baby. nearly fuckin’ killed this old-timer, huh? you and that fuckin’ mouth,” he grunts out with a chuckle, his eyes tracing over your pathetic little face.

the warm salty flavour of him paired with his words make your pussy flutter in need. the tears finally spill from your eyes as you keep looking up at him; so helpless with his big dick shoved down your throat… just how he likes it.

ben pants and finally pulls his cock out with a grin on his lips, “show me.”

you know exactly what he means, so you look up at him and stick your tongue out, letting him see the filthy combination of his cum and your saliva filling your mouth.

“swallow,” he says firmly, leaving no room for debate. it’s not like you would anyway, you were his cockslut— even if you’d never admit it out loud.

as he watches your throat bob and mouth open again to prove you swallowed, he hums with a nod, “that’s it. good fuckin’ girl.”

ben pats your head… again, before yanking your face back with a fistful of hair. your jaw’s still slack as you pant, trying to catch your breath. you look up at him with your glassy eyes and messy swollen lips.

you look so pitiful and he just can’t resist; his spit lands perfectly in your mouth and he smirks. the minty flavour practically assaults your taste buds after being so used to the tangy taste of him, but nonetheless you swallow again and lick your lips, trying to clean the mess of drool from around your mouth.

“atta girl,” he coos mockingly, watching you swallow and your tongue swipe across your lips, “god, i’ll never get tired of that. you’re a fuckin’ treasure, doll. my stupid little girl.”

A/N: ahhh i’m alive!!! hi!! thank u for 900 followers???? so wild???? i’ve actually been so inactive recently it’s terrible omg so hey if u see this :P

feedback and reblogs are welcome ‘n appreciated! thank uuu!

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✩ taglist: @chevroletdean @fitxgrld @jasvtsc @bluestrd @1-imbroglio @titsout4nicholas @faithfulsofi @tortureddarkstar @abellmunsonmovie @atenea585 @manicjk @aileenunfiltered @minettacreekk @jackleslvr @winchester-whiskey @artyandink @emeraldcrs @freyabear @a1ecmcdowell @cosmopolitan-thedrink @jwritestuff @suhnisideup @spookyysinsanity @kimxwinchester @bleuatlas @deansbbyx @angelicjackles @cosmicanakin @sl33pylilbunny @k-slla

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#༢ུ࿓ fig writes.ᐟ #me using the word throat every second sentence ugh bye #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy drabble #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy smut #soldier boy fic #soldier boy x gf!reader #the boys #jensen ackles #jensen ackles smut

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