#praise be to God; something told me I had to try and keep my eyes open

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

.

okay so you know that teaboot post that went around forever ago about how they accidentally made themself sick by taking hot baths and dropping their blood pressure

I thought I didn’t do that

apparently. I just accidentally did that.

My normal heart rate is ~105 beats per minute. Yeah, that’s technically tachycardic, but my doctor and I talked about it and it’s likely just bc my ADHD meds raise my heart rate. I keep an eye on my heart rate every now and then, just to make sure it stays around there (bc if it got higher I might need to switch meds).

Took a bath today. Was chilling. Relaxing. Vibing. I zone the frick out. The water was pretty hot but it didn’t hurt or burn so I wasn’t worried about it.

An indeterminate amount of time passes.

Far too slowly, I realize that there’s black spots in my vision, and that they’ve been there for a hot minute. I clock that my heart is beating way too hard (felt kinda uncomfortable), and I can feel it in my neck. Not great. I get out of the tub (clumsily) (very wet), sit on the floor, grab my phone (phone is now wet), set a timer for 30 seconds, and start counting heartbeats.

86 beats in 30 seconds. That’s 172 beats per minute.

So, hot tip: don’t do that!

I felt woozy and clumsy so I laid down for a couple minutes until I stopped feeling my heart pounding (checked heart rate again, down to 120bpm), cleaned up the mess I made in the bathroom, and now I’m in PJs in bed.

No idea how long I was in the bath for. Probably will not be taking hot baths for a while. Still feel weird and swoopy, like the plug between my brain and my body is loose in the socket.

[rafes-slut]

You let him hit raw for first time

Pairing: rafe cameron x bitchy!reader

Summary: after he was beghing you for months to hit it raw you finally let him. But he gets too excited to last long

Warnings:( Smut (MDNI), Unprotected sex, Praise & degradation, Rafe being obsessed with you, Slight power struggle, Bitchy attitude (from you), Begging (from him), Possessiveness, Probably some light choking/gripping, A lot of dirty talk

----

"Come on, baby. Just once. Just let me feel you."

It had been Rafe's favorite thing to beg for since the start of your relationship. His obsession. His mission.

Every time he had you underneath him, his body pressing yours into the mattress, his hands gripping at your waist or your wrists or your throat—he'd ask. He'd plead. He'd run his lips over your ear, whispering filthy promises about how good it would feel, how much better it would be, how you’d never want to go back.

And every time, you told him no.

You liked making him work for it. You liked the way his jaw clenched, the way his grip got tighter, the way his frustration seeped into every rough thrust. Because Rafe Cameron didn’t lose, and telling him no? That made him desperate to win.

But tonight?

Tonight, you felt mean.

Maybe it was the way he’d been looking at you all night, the way his hands had barely left your body, like he was starving. Maybe it was the way he pulled you onto his lap the second you got to his house, hands palming your ass, lips dragging along your jaw. Maybe it was the way you wanted to ruin him.

So, when he kissed you breathless and muttered against your lips, "Please, baby, just once," you smirked.

"Fine."

Rafe froze. His pupils dilated so fast you thought he might pass out. His lips parted, brows pulling together like he was trying to process what he just heard.

You leaned in, lips brushing his ear. "You heard me."

And then?

He lost his fucking mind.

The second his cock pressed inside, with nothing in between, he let out a sound you’d never heard before. Like an actual, feral groan, deep in his chest, his body shuddering against yours as he bottomed out.

"Fuck," he gasped, dropping his head to your shoulder. His hands gripped your thighs like he wanted to bruise them, like he needed to ground himself. "Fuck. You feel—Jesus."

His breath was hot against your neck, his whole body shaking with restraint. Like he wanted to ruin you, but he was trying—failing—to keep himself together.

"You good?" you teased, a smirk playing on your lips.

Rafe let out a low, humorless laugh before he pulled back to look at you. His blue eyes were dark, wild, possessive.

"Oh, baby," he rasped, voice dripping with something dangerous. His hand slid up your body, fingers wrapping around your throat, tilting your chin up. "You just fucked up."

Rafe didn’t move for a second. He just stayed there, buried inside you to the hilt, like he was trying to memorize the way you felt around him. Like he was already dreading the moment he had to pull out.

“Holy shit,” he rasped, voice all shaky and breathless.

You smirked, just a little, running your hands up his arms. “What? You’re not gonna punk out on me, are you?”

That snapped something in him.

Rafe let out a choked laugh, but there was nothing funny about the way he gripped your waist. “You think I’m gonna tap out? Oh, baby.” His fingers dug into your skin, holding you down. “I’m just trying not to bust the second I move.”

You laughed, but the sound cut off when he rolled his hips—just once, slow, deep.

His whole body shuddered. His head dropped forward, forehead pressing into yours, his jaw clenching like he was physically fighting his own body.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, voice wrecked. His breath came out in short, sharp bursts, and his grip on you only got tighter. “Oh my God, this is—this is so much better—”

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, dragging your nails up his back. “C’mon, baby,” you whispered, lips brushing his. “I thought you were dying for this. Don’t tell me you can’t handle it.”

That did it.

Rafe’s hands jerked your hips up, making you gasp, making you feel just how hard he was struggling to keep it together.

“You love running that mouth, don’t you?” he gritted out, glaring down at you. “Think you’re so fucking funny.”

You smirked up at him, dragging your fingers through his hair. “You begged for this, Cameron. If you can’t handle it, just say so.”

That was the final straw.

Rafe let out a sharp breath, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you were still talking, still teasing him when he was this close to fucking losing it.

“Okay,” he muttered, half to himself, like he was officially done playing nice. His hand wrapped around your throat, pressing you into the mattress, tilting your chin up so he could look you in the eyes when he said—

“Don’t fucking move.”

Then, he pulled out—all the way—before slamming back in, forcing a gasp from your lips as he stretched you again.

Rafe let out a broken groan, his body shuddering as he tried—tried—not to let it get the best of him. But you were so tight, so fucking warm, and there was nothing, nothing, in between.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasped, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. “Baby, I swear to God, I can’t—”

You laughed, breathless. “Already?”

His grip tightened around your throat in warning. “Shut up,” he muttered, voice shaking.

You did, but only because you were too distracted by the way he was trembling above you, holding himself back, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw popped.

You could feel how desperate he was. You could see the way his abs tensed, his muscles flexing as he fought for every ounce of self-control he had.

He wanted to ruin you. He needed to.

But he was so close, and it was killing him.

Rafe let out a shaky breath, glaring down at you. “I hate you,” he muttered, his voice all breathless and wrecked.

You smirked. “No, you don’t.”

And then, you moved. Just a little. Just enough to make him jerk inside you, to make his whole body seize up.

“Oh, you bitch,” he groaned, his grip tightening as he thrust forward, his restraint finally snapping.

[m0llygunn]

a job well done (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)

summary: long-term admirer, recent tutor — you find out eddie's failing gym. in an ode to help him, your expertise expands beyond just textbooks — to your fortune, he teaches you something you've been dying to learn too

contents: 18+, smut!!!, porn with plot, lots of ball action <3, oral (m receiving, mentions of f receiving), pet names and praise (baby, good girl), somewhat-inexperienced!eddie, tutor!reader an: i made an $8k mistake irl so heres 8k words that i wrote to forget about it (just kidding (not abt the mistake, that's very real) i started writing this in july 2023 but recently rewrote most of it to make it into a big ol' one shot-ish thing) wc: 8.5k

“You’re failing gym?” you gasp, jaw dropping as your eyes scan over his report.

“No!” he replies, trying to steal the envelope and its contents from your hands. You turn your body just in time for him to grasp at nothing but air. 

You started tutoring Eddie about a month into the semester. He’s been a willing participant for the most part and that’s why when he kept coming up with excuse after excuse for why he didn’t have his midterm report you knew something was up. 

You took it upon yourself to do some investigating. Nothing invasive, just when you got to his place for a regular tutoring session, you decided to look through his bag while he was in the bathroom. On his bedroom floor, filing through the bags endless messy contents, you eventually came across the familiarly coloured yellow envelope and helped yourself to a peek at what he was keeping a secret from you. 

Mere moments later, he was back. He immediately noticed what you had in your hands and crashed to the floor trying to get it away from you. Evidently, a failed attempt. 

“You have a — oh god, not just a D, a D minus, Eddie.” 

“That’s not failing,” he mumbles under his breath. You wave him off before dropping his report to the floor in front of you. He grabs it, crumples it into a ball, and petulantly tosses it to the other side of his room. 

“You never even told me you were taking gym.”

“Cause how’re you supposed to help with gym?”

“The tests! There’s a whole health portion, I could’ve been helping you with that,” you say, getting worked up over it. Eddie’s been doing so well, this was truly blindsiding.

“Yeah… cause I really want help from you with the health portion,” he grumbles sarcastically. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like it means,” he shrugs. 

If you weren’t paying attention, you might think he was angry — maybe even being mean. Luckily, you’re always paying attention to Eddie Munson, and you see the way his face flushes to a bright, crimson red. His annoyance is actually just embarrassment — which is good — at least he has some level of remorse for his failing grade. You can work with that. You take a breath, exhaling it slowly, forcing yourself to calm down. 

“Show me what you’re working on.”

“No,” he shakes his head, reaching into his bag, shuffling around some papers before tossing a heavy textbook your way. “Let’s just do math.”

“No, you have a B minus in math now, that doesn’t need help. You need help in gym.” you reply, tossing the textbook back at him. 

“I don’t.”

“Eddie, you do.”

Sitting up to your knees, you reach into his bag once more, taking out his binder and dropping it to the floor in a pointed thump. He mumbles some kind of disagreement, spine going stiff with his hesitancy to let you go through his stuff some more, but he doesn’t make any attempts to physically stop you. 

You flip through the disorganization that you’ve told him countless times to organize until you come across a diagram of a penis and a vagina. Bingo.

“Told you,” he mumbles, scoffing to himself. 

“Told me what?”

“Why would you want to help me study that?” 

“Uh— cause it’s part of your class and I don’t want you to fail,” you say matter of factly. “Believe it or not, Eddie, I like you, and your success translates to my happiness.” 

Bright red continues to flourish across his skin, affecting the apples of his cheeks all the way down to his throat. He turns bashful, eyes locking down on the carpet. 

Eddie’s shy — not often, but he is. You wouldn’t think so from the way he acts at school and in most public atmospheres, but get him in a room, one-on-one, and he’s all blushed cheeks and shy touches. It’s sweet and it’s one of your favourite things about him — but you don’t have time for sweet shyness right now. He’s failing gym for christ sake — gym.

“So, how do you want to do this?” you ask, slapping your hands to your thighs. Eddie startles, jolting before his wide eyes find yours. 

“Do what?”

“Study this,” you motion to the diagram on the floor separating the two of you.

“I— I’m not… we’re not—“

His eye contact goes rogue again, diverting anywhere else — everywhere else that isn’t you. Shy, shy, shy. Too shy. More shy than normal. And you have an inkling that it has to do with the subject of the conversation at hand. 

“Oh my god, Eddie. This is basic human anatomy. I think we’re grown up enough to handle a little penis and vagina,” you state, tacking on a laugh. 

You get a hint of Eddie's true personality beyond his shyness — it emerges through a quirk of his lip, the corner of it tweaking upwards into the hint of a smirk. 

“A little penis?” He parrots, his smirk fully emerging now. This boy.

“Cue cards? Should we do cue cards?”

He groans, body deflating. “You know I hate cue cards.”

“Okay, so let’s just go over the parts for now, then we can move on and do something else.”

You clear out a bigger area on the floor, making space for your study session. Eddie helps by kicking back stray articles of clothing and then picking out what looks like spilled weed from the carpet and collecting it in the palm of his hand. You’re a touch more productive, taping little pieces of paper over the diagram labels. When you’re done, you sit up admiring your work. Eddie stands, dropping his little handful of greenery onto his desk before sitting down on his bed. 

“Do you want to do it up there or down here?” You ask. 

The slight double entendre isn’t lost on you, you heard it before you even said it. Now knowing how shy Eddie is about this stuff, you couldn’t help but push your luck, and the blush that spreads across his cheeks makes it entirely worth it, especially while you deadpan and pretend you have no clue. 

“I’ll come down there—“ He says and you watch him physically recoil as his words set in. You resist your laughter. 

“Come, Eddie. Faster,” you tease, laughter starting to bubble up. A smile breaks through his embarrassment.

“Jesus Christ, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? You like seeing me suffer?”

“Me? Teasing you on purpose? Never.”

With a shake of his head, he joins you on the floor, leaving a large gap between the two of you. “Can we not do this, I already know this stuff.”

“Oh yeah? Eddie Munson is well versed in human anatomy?”

“I’m — I’m not going to answer that,” he crosses his arms. 

With a clap of your hands, you ignore his pouty demeanor. “Okay! Let’s just do this, the quicker you memorize everything the quicker we can not do this.”

With both of the diagrams set up, you give him the option of starting with the penis or vagina first. He chooses the easy answer, opting to go with the penis. 

One by one you point out each part of the penis, asking him for the anatomically correct name. You quickly understand why he’s failing. 

“Okay, and this one is…?”

“The head,” he states. 

“I mean… sure,” you nod hesitantly — “but the little arrow is pointing there — the glans. This one?”

You continue going through the chart, teaching Eddie the proper names for everything. When you finally graduate to the diagram of the vagina, Eddie is physically squirming in his spot. 

“Eddie, relax. Seriously. We’ve all seen a vagina before.”

“It’s so fucking hot in here, are you hot?” He groans, standing up and tripping his way to the window, slamming it open with a grunt. 

He’s barely made his way back before you have a thought.

“You’ve seen a vagina before, right?” 

He freezes — just for a moment, but you catch it. On his way to return to his spot on the floor he pauses, then continues moving as if you haven’t asked him a question. When he sits, you quirk a brow. 

“Yeah!” He answers. His voice tunes so high, it begs to crack.

You nod skeptically. You wouldn’t say he’s lying per se, but something seems off. Something that you’re interested in getting to the bottom of. 

“Let’s take a break, okay?” You offer.

“Yeah, a break’s, uh — good.” He exhales, letting out a breath of relief. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, fanning it in and out, getting some air flow on his skin. It’s very suspicious and you have to assume —

“So, you’ve never seen a vagina,” you say.

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “I have! I’m not a virgin.”

“You’re squirming like one.”

“I’m not!”

“There’s nothing wrong —”

“I’m not!” He says much louder, cutting you off. 

You believe him, seeing the full depth of sincerity in his amusedly large, and overly serious eyes. 

“Okay,” you nod.

“I’m not,” he insists once more, tone leaning towards stern. 

“I believe you, Eddie.”

The two of you sit quietly in your respective spots. You could busy yourself with getting some more studying stuff ready, but somehow — even though there was some verbal finality — this conversation doesn’t seem over. 

And with an inhale from Eddie, it’s not.

“I’ve just never been like…” he pauses, thinking, “I’ve just never been all up in there.” He makes a crude motion with his hands, both palms splayed out flat in your direction, moving outwards like he’s spreading something out. 

“You’ve never eaten a girl out before?”

“What are we doing?” He says, dropping his head into his hands, scrubbing at his cheeks with both palms. 

“You don’t have to answer. Seriously, if I’m really making you uncomfortable, I’ll stop. Swear.”

His chest inflates with a deep breath, then his head pops up. “I have but only for like a minute, in the dark, parked outside of the hideout after a gig,” he confesses. You raise your brows, surprised.

“You work quickly. A minute, that’s impressive.”

“No… Jesus, no,” he winces. “I fucking wish. We got interrupted and… yeah she never wanted to hang out after.”

“Oh,” you hum. “That sucks.” You tilt your head at him, frowning apologetically. 

“Yeah. She, uh, I’m pretty sure she had a boyfriend but I didn’t know when we… yeah.” He concludes his confession with a shrug before sitting back to lean against the side of his bed. 

“That really sucks. Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, tacking on a laugh. It’s not a nervous laugh. It’s genuine and you take his lack of nervousness as permission to continue the conversation. 

“So… Do you have a tactic?”

“Tactic?”

“Yeah. Like, most guys use the alphabet on the clit thing, which is awful by the way, don’t do that.”

“I think…” he raises his brows. “I think, maybe, just being overzealous is my thing. I don’t really know — I haven't done it enough to have a tactic.”

“Overzealous is good…” you nod, “as long as it’s strategic.”

Eddie meets your gaze. He’s intrigued — “Elaborate?” he asks. 

“Like, sure if you want to go to town and eat the pussy, go for it, but the only place it really counts is the clit — of course everything else is nice too, but the clit is definitely where it matters,” you nod to yourself, punctuating your statement. “And—” you add on, raising your hand, bringing together two of your fingers to mime the curling motions of getting fingered. “I like when they use their fingers too. It's a lot better like that.”

Eddie goes silent. He looks like he’s thinking, maybe even committing your words to memory— but it’s an odd look he has on his face. One you’ve never seen before from him.

“Sorry, did I say too much?” You laugh, trying to diffuse. Eddie looks at you, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

“Why the fuck are you tutoring me in going down on a girl right now?” He laughs. 

You smile, appreciating his amusement. Tilting your head boastfully, you accept his comment like a compliment. “Just a natural born teacher, I guess,” you tease. 

He nods, humming agreeingly. He doesn’t say anything more but you’ve got a handful of curiosities burning through your back pocket, and when in rome…

“Are we done with this conversation,” you ask, “or can we keep going ‘cause I might have a few questions for you?”

“Hasn't this whole conversation already been an interrogation of my experiences?”

“But this might be your only opportunity to teach me something, Edward.” You jet out your lower lip, pouting it, rounding your eyes at him — trying your best to keep this going. 

He rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance. 

“Are you about to ask me if I can move my dick without my hands, because the answer is yes but it’s not full control.”

“That’s not what I was gonna ask, but very cool.”

“Sorry. That’s usually what girls ask.”

That has been a curiosity but your questions… your questions are much more… sophisticated? 

“So can I?” you ask. 

“Can you?”

“Ask you questions?”

He bites his lip, pointedly making you sweat it out. With a dramatic sigh, he gives in. “Go for it.”

You sit up straighter, very pleased with his answer. 

“Balls,” you state. Eddie’s eyes widen immediately — you ignore the regret that flashes across his face. “Do you like them being touched? Every time I’ve done anything with them, the guy kind of, like, recoils and it feels like I did something wrong.” 

“Jesus…” he clears his throat with an awkward laugh. “You’re really going for the big questions, huh?” 

“The big questions?” You raise your eyebrows suggestively. 

“No, Jesus I’m not implying my balls are — holy shit. My balls are normal sized, that’s not what I meant.” He continues to laugh through his embarrassment, cheeks heating right back up to that very cute, bright, red colour. 

“I’m just teasing you, Eddie. I’m sure your balls are lovely and perfectly normal sized.”

He hums appreciatively but it gets stuck in his throat, coming out as a high pitched croak. He clears his voice, nodding as he raises a hand to the back of his neck, wringing it nervously.

“You don’t have to answer, but I would appreciate knowing,” you say, softly, sympathetic — leaning into apologetic. He nods again, and you can tell the gears are spinning in his head as he thinks over his answer. 

“They’re just… sensitive,” he swallows. “But… I do like them being played with, or sucked, or licked… or whatever.” 

His eyes focus on the far wall, not out of nervousness or shyness this time, but more like he’s giving his words some real thought. You appreciate it and wait patiently for him to continue. 

“I guess I would have to say that it’s personal preference, so ask?” he continues unsurely, eyes still focusing elsewhere. “I mean, no guy is ever gonna be mad if you ask to put their balls in your mouth — or… whatever you want to do with them.” He looks at you with wide eyes as he suddenly gets nervous again. You wave him off, letting him silently know that ‘balls in your mouth’ is not an offense to you.

“Could you cum from someone playing with your balls?”

“Holy shit,” he gasps, laughing. His hand that was wringing his neck drops to his lap in a heavy thud. At the same time, he brings up both knees, hugging them halfways to his chest as he mulls over his answer. “Um? Maybe? But, I think a big part of it is a visual thing — like, it adds to the hotness when they’re into the balls?” He finishes, adding an unsure inflection to the end of his remark. You nod, narrowing your eyes into a squint as you absorb what he’s saying. 

“So it doesn’t feel good?”

“It does,” he quickly corrects, “just anything on the head feels way better.” 

“Okay… good to know.” You nod, moving on. “And dirty talk. You really like that? Like, when the girl’s going on and on about your ‘big cock in her tight little pussy’, is it not weird?”

“Jesus, you really aren’t holding back with these questions.” He smiles through the blotchy redness growing down his neck all the way to the collar of his shirt.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” you promise, dipping your face lower to catch Eddie’s gaze. He holds it for a second, before letting his eyes roam the room. 

“Dirty talk is hot, obviously, but… it’s not when it’s rehearsed shit like that. It makes it feel like they’re performing — and maybe I’m just doing a piss poor job and they are performing — I don’t know, but I’d rather hear about what you actually like that I’m doing. Even if you’re telling me to go faster or harder or whatever. That’s fucking hot.”

“Alright, so be genuine. Cool,” you nod. 

“You done with questions?” He meets your gaze with raised brows for a fraction of a brave second before quickly looking away. 

The thing is, you’re not done. 

“So, hypothetically, if someone you didn’t like played with only your balls, and it wasn’t hot— like nothing about it was hot, would you still cum?”

He doesn’t give you the same surprised initial shock as he did with all the other questions. This time he just lets out a long, evenly staggered breath through puffed out cheeks. 

“I think…” He hugs his knees closer to his chest, rubbing both his palms along his shins quickly, filling the silence with the sounds of skin on denim. 

You can see the edge of his words in his expression, like he wants to say something but is holding it back. Whatever it is, you wait patiently — you do sit up a little straighter though, eagerly leaning inwards, listening with baited breath to his quiet, pensive hum.

His lips twitch, mouth opening then closing. With a loud exhale, he lets go of his shins, letting his knees drop from their upright position, and with that, his resolve breaks.  

“Fuck it” he curses — “Probably. Sometimes I think that the wind blowing the wrong way could make me cum. Like, I’m fighting for my fucking life to not get hard right now.”

He ends his speed-run confession with a pant, chest shallowly heaving with each breath. Excited wings beat inside your chest, dipping down to your belly as you absorb what he's just said to you. 

“Really?” you ask, blinking wide eyes at him. His breathing evens out, and he meets your gaze.

“Yeah,” he shrugs shyly — cutely.

“You know I like you, right?” 

His face falls. “What?” His brows press together, furrowing with confusion and you really don’t know how you could have been clearer about this whole ordeal.

“Eddie,” you smile. “I’ve told you like a million times that I like you — like earlier, I told you barely an hour ago before we got started.”

You said it quite plainly too; ‘Believe it or not, Eddie, I like you, and your success translates to my happiness.’ 

“Yeah, but I thought you meant as a… a person? Or a friend?”

You can’t help but laugh — not at him… well, a little bit at him, but this is just so ridiculous, how could he be so clueless. 

“I love my friends but I don’t think I would fill all my free time teaching them math and all the anatomical correct names of the different parts of the penis.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, they’re good people but that’s not exactly my idea of fun,” you tease. “Of course I’m serious, Eddie. So if you wanted to make a move… I wouldn’t be opposed.” 

At this point, after a confession as straightforward as that, you’d hope for movement — anything — even him getting closer to you, moving in for a kiss at the very least… but he stays sat in his opposite spot, his binder with the vagina diagram laid out flat, separating the both of you. 

Maybe you read this wrong — backpedal. 

“Did I just make this weird? Should I have not said that? I like tutoring you too, I don’t want you to think I’m expecting something from you just because I’ve been helping you.” You ramble apologetically, shrinking into yourself as you feel your whole body start to flush with icky embarrassment.

Eddie’s spine goes rigid as he sits up pin-straight, shaking his head emphatically.

“No! I like you too,” he interjects, leaning towards you, putting a hand on your knee. “Even before you started tutoring me.” 

“You do?” You sigh a breath of relief. Meeting his eyes, you smile sweetly, ignoring the whiplash that still has your stomach pinched in a half knot.

His voice gets soft with his confession — “Why do you think I didn’t want to sit around looking at penises and vaginas with you?” he laughs quietly,  “I was terrified of getting hard and scaring you away.”

The mention of him getting hard has your eyes flickering downwards for a split second. You can’t tell, but you tease him anyway — “And how’s that working out for you?”

“If you’re asking if I’m hard…” He trails off, smiling nervously, leaving you with a confirmed suspicion. 

“Should I make a move?” 

“Well, I’m not opposed.” He says it like it’s a joke — you know he’s being funny, breaking tension or whatever, but you don’t laugh. You perk up, tummy filling with fluttery feelings because that’s permission.

Permission to crawl the short distance between the two of you.

Permission to help yourself to his lap — pulling your skirt up high enough to straddle his upper thighs.

Permission to let your hands feel from his shoulders, down to his pecks. 

Permission to be this close to him — close enough that you can see every shy detail, every cute freckle, every nervous flutter of his lashes. 

Best of all — it’s permission for an intimacy you’ve been waiting for — longing for.

You sink yourself against him and — “Oh,” you gasp, “you weren’t kidding.” 

Through the thin cotton of your underwear, you feel the hard curve behind the zip of his jeans. It has you biting your lip, holding back your grin. 

His eyes coast your features, narrowing in on the tweaked up corners of your lips. He ghosts a quiet ‘yeah’, dipping his face downwards, hiding his own coy smile. 

You just won’t have that — you bring your hands to his cheeks, tilting his chin upwards, encouraging him to look at you. He lets you guide him, lets you wash your gaze over his features — lets you rake your eyes over every detail, even when his skin grows pink and you know he wants you to be looking anywhere else.

But you can’t help it. The rosy tint to his cheeks looks too warm, too inviting. His lips are just too pink, too bitten. And most of all, his eyes have become too deep, too capturing, especially when the usual gold in his brown has resolved to being just the thinnest ring, glinting and shimmering around absorbing black orbs.

“Your eyes are really dark right now,” you observe aloud. 

“Yeah?” He asks and you nod your head. You watch him as he lets his own gaze search your face. He swallows, coming to his own conclusion. “You just looked amused.”

You smile. You are amused but — “I’m not just amused.”

“No?” 

“I’m also really turned on.” You feel it in your belly, multitudes of warm winged flutters, sitting low, radiating heat throughout your whole body. You lean in closer, watching intently as his brows rise, moving to hide beneath his bangs as he processes your second confession of the evening.

“You are?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Want to know what I’m thinking about?”

He swallows thickly, and that golden ring in his eyes gets the faintest bit thinner.

“I do.”

You sit more comfortably, bringing your hands back to his chest and letting your bum press fully to his thighs. He lets out a near silent groan as your front sinks to his and when you adjust your hips, his hands dart to your sides, holding you tightly. 

“First,” you smile, batting your lashes at him. “I’m thinking about kissing you.” A soft swoon washes over Eddie's face, eyes turning soft for you. His eyes blink down to your lips, but you have more to say. “I’m also thinking about your balls in my mouth.”

The softness steps back, shock taking over. “Jesus christ,” he curses yet again, drawing out each syllable in a low groan. 

“And since I’ve been sitting here, I can’t help but think about how your cock would feel inside of me.”

“Fuck.” He meets your gaze, eyes rounding, jaw going slack. His chest begins to rise more rapidly, his breathing growing heavier. 

The feeling of him between your legs is undeniable now — he’s hard, very hard, uncomfortably hard. You let your hands slide up his chest, to his shoulders, letting your fingertips graze along the warm skin of his neck. He blinks heavily, eyelids growing weighted, swarming with evident lust. It makes you excited, makes you want more. 

You lower your voice to a breathy whisper, leaning in closer, letting your lips graze the shell of his ear.  “How’s the dirty talk, Eddie? Am I doing good?” You purr. His fingers pinch into the flesh at your sides as you shift once again, rolling your hips just enough to feel that hint of pleasure between your thighs. 

Eddie stifles his moan. “S– so good. You’re doing so g-good,” he stutters. His breath hitches as you press a kiss to the edge of his jaw, and then another, moving downwards to his neck. 

“What are you thinking about?” You pull away, looking at him through your lashes. You barely have a second to react before his hands are on your jaw, tugging you into him. 

It catches you off guard at first as his lips mash to yours. It’s entirely overzealous, bidding his earlier statement true by multiple definitions. It’s not terrible, but it is desperate. 

Flattening a heeding palm to his chest, you pull away just the slightest bit, letting your lips faintly graze his. 

“Slowly, Eddie.” you whisper. 

His interrupted desperation manifests as a quiet huff against your lips. Regardless of how hard he is beneath you, and how badly he wants to mash his mouth to yours, he nods, noses bumping together as he does.

This time you lean in. You guide the kiss, moving slowly, tenderly, and he follows your lead, moving gently, catching on quickly. Your upper lip presses between both of his and it's so delicate, so earnest, that it makes your heart thrum. It's exactly what you needed, and you reward Eddie with a quiet hum, letting your hands wrap behind his neck, pressing your chests together. 

His breath fans over your skin as he hums back, letting his hands glide to your lower back, hugging you closer. His lips massage yours, slowly, and he takes his time, letting you melt into him entirely. 

When you feel the pressure of his tongue licking across your lower lip your anticipation really sets in. You open your mouth, rolling your hips upwards as you move in closer to him. With a huffed, eager grunt, and with fingers kneading bruises into your skin, he licks into your mouth completely contradictory to it all, still giving you softness in the kiss. You’re elated by it all, swept up, enraptured by him being so sweet to you.

You sigh breathily as you have to pull away. 

“That was really good,” you fawn, dropping your head to rest against his shoulder. You let out another sigh, smiling contently to yourself. You’ve been wanting to do that for a long time — really too long, if you’re being honest. 

Eddie hums an agreement. You intend to go further than just a kiss, but you give yourself a moment to bask in it all. Just a moment, that’s all you need. 

And in the next moment, with your wits gathered, you wiggle your hips. Eddie’s palms press tightly against your back and he lets out a sharp gasp that melds into a whimper. You giggle a quiet apology. 

“Too much for you?” you tease.

“Nuh-uh.” He shakes his head, his warm cheek pressing to yours. “M’just really hard right now.”

He is — you can feel it, and you can feel the mess growing between your own thighs. 

A simple solution; you hint at rolling your hips another time. It’s hardly any friction, just testing the waters. You’re surprised when Eddie pulls you inwards, guiding your hips, encouraging you to move. He lets out a low groan as the squish of your thighs pass over his length, one that you hardly register over your own gasp as you get your first real hint of pleasure.

With his help, you build a slow rhythm, grinding to the curve in his denim, one that has your eyes fluttering shut and Eddie tensing, letting out meak whimpers and low moans. It's nice, it really is, but as nice as it feels for you, you weave a hand between the two of you, suggestively placing it on the buckle of his belt.  

“Can I ask you another question?”

“Yes,” his voice comes out as a heaved breath. Very eager to continue.

“After you cum, how long does it take for you to get hard again?”

“Sh-shit — it depends. Sometimes —” he swallows thickly and you hear the gulp in his throat — “sometimes it’s barely a few minutes.”

“I want to try out what you taught me, but I want you to fuck me too.”

“We can — yeah we can do that.” His voice wavers as he bites back his excitement, trying to play it cool. Despite that, you feel the overzealousness in his pants, twitching with enthusiasm. 

You press a chaste kiss to his lips before scooting back on his legs, weaving your hands between the two of you to pop open his belt. Just as you unweave the leather and toss the heavy buckle to the side, holding the button under your thumb, Eddie’s hand meets your waist — not stopping you, just getting your attention. 

“Can I…” he starts. You look up at him, pausing your movement. He continues, “can I try what you told me too?” His eyes barely meet yours, growing bashful all over again. 

“Of course you can,” you say sincerely. You finish unbuttoning his pants, tugging the zipper down while leaning in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You don’t gotta be shy, Eddie. I like you already, a lot.” 

He nods, but you can still see a hint of cautiousness in his expression. 

“I’m serious, Eddie. I want you to be comfortable with me. Anything you need, anything you want, you can tell me.” 

He nods. His mouth mulls for a moment, but he nods a second time, assumedly coming to a conclusion. “Can we move up to the bed?” he asks. 

“I’d like that,” you smile and he smiles back.

Just as you lift your leg to get off him, you let out a surprised yelp as he does the bravest thing he’s done yet, both hands grabbing firmly at your bottom, tugging you into him and up as he pushes himself off the floor. He moves the both of you up to the edge of the bed with one strong flex of his legs and your stomach swirls with the rush of it all. 

From there, it's a giggling tussle of limbs, him pulling you up the bed, you pulling his pants off. Eventually, you both settle, him pantless, sitting with his back to the wall where his headboard should be, and you, by his side, knees pressing to his thigh. Your fingers wiggle with excitement as you take the thin cotton of his boxers, lacing them just under the waistband. 

You shimmy in your spot, shaking your hips, letting out a happy hum as you begin to pull them down. Your belly fills with good nerves, butterflies, and your mouth salivates. When you get them down as far as you can without his help, he silently chimes in, lifting his hips, hooking his own thumbs into the material. With a quiet humph, the fabric passes his length, freeing it to bob against his shirt-covered belly. 

Tempestuously red. Furiously flushed. Severely erect. Poor Eddie. Happy you. His tip is blushed to a deep crimson, glistening with the pearlescent sheen of precum. It has your body flushing hot everywhere — from your cheeks all the way south to where you grind yourself down onto the backs of your heels just to feel a pinch of salvation. 

Somewhere between where your ogling started and where you had to physically swallow the gathering saliva in your mouth, his boxers got discarded entirely, your own shirt disappearing along with them — because it is just so hot all of a sudden.  

If you weren’t completely blinded by your impeding tunnel vision, you would have seen the way Eddie gawked at your newly revealed skin, absorbing every inch, taking in every feature to your body. You would have seen the way his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and the fresh cherry red blush spread to his cheeks. You would have seen the way he had to forcefully peel his eyes away from your chest when he felt your fingers press into his bare thighs as you situated yourself between his legs. But you didn’t have a chance to notice all of those details, not when you felt the thrilling thrum of anticipation bubbling up in your bloodstream. 

“You ready, Eddie?” You ask, grinning at him. He blinks slowly at you, no answer, making your smile falter.

“You look pretty,” he blurts out, much to your delight. “Really pretty. All the time — not just now because you're about to — you’re just beautiful, s’what I want to say.”

“Thank you,” you say, pleasantly surprised. Eddie on the other hand, cringes at his own rambling, face scrunching in defeat. You like him even more for it — “I think you’re beautiful too, Eddie,” you smile. “And not just because I have your pretty cock in front of me.” 

Eddie huffs a soft laugh and you gleam, pleased with yourself. 

With actual consent, you take him in your hand. Gentle at first, easing him into your touch. Just barely grazing your thumb over the tip, you smear the slick precum around, before sinking your fist to his base. He lets out a tensed moan, exhaling — exhilarating. That quiet, throaty noise has you lighting up, already feening for more.

Leaning down further, arching your back, you gather your saliva in your mouth before letting it spill out in a single string over the tip of his needy head, falling down just to be caught by the upwards rise of your fist. This time he sucks in a sharp breath and you live for it. 

Closing the distance between your mouth and his cock, you lick the tip gently, pressing your tongue to the river of precum that sits in the curves of his slit, relishing in the saltiness that makes your mouth water effortlessly. You hum, feeling the pulse between your legs grow deeper, more intense. You push your hips back, angling them, searching for any sort of relief. 

While it doesn’t satiate the need between your thighs, Eddie notices your squirm, and brings a splayed palm to your side, letting it curve to your skin. It settles in, warming you, encouraging you to distract yourself in such a beautiful way by taking him into your mouth. 

You let your tongue swirl. Flick. Caress. Your lips graze before closing, and you suck. Cheeks hardly hollowing, the noise he lets out makes you want to keep being gentle — draw this out, make this last. 

But like a devil on your shoulder, you want to skip forward. You want his balls in your mouth, that’s the guise of this whole encounter, isn’t it? To practice what he’s taught you.

Jumping right to the chase, abandoning his desperately swollen cock, doesn’t strike you as the way to go about this, so you continue to be gentle. Pulling off the tip, kissing him up and down his length. Pressing your lips where needed and drawing circles and lovey hearts across his skin with the pointed angle of your tongue.

It's not fruitless. Every noise, every groan, every heavy breath, pleading whimper, fills you up. It fills you up until it has you leaning your body into his hand on your rib cage, needing to feel him wherever you can, while taking him fully into your mouth. Swallowing him down, deeply hollowing your cheeks, gliding your lips and flattening your tongue until your nose presses to the wispy patch of coarse hair at his base. 

“Fuck— fuck.” Eddie groans through a strangled breath. 

His hand leaves your ribs and you whimper at the loss, only to be reunited with the physical contact as he takes hold of your head with both of his hands, pulling you up. You whine, chest collapsing with defeat. You pout as soon as his cock leaves your mouth. Looking up at him, he looks worked up and frayed — all a shivered mess — but eyes sincerely apologetic as he catches your disappointment. 

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that.” He pants heavily, catching his breath while you catch your own. Your pout lessens, and instead, your pride sets in. You did that to him. 

Wiping your gathered tears, you place a tentative hand on his length, watching him for any protests. His head knocks back into the hard wall, but he never loses sight of you, now looking down the angular slope of his nose, watching with amorous, lusting eyes. 

You dip down, reapproach, but this time you give into your own desire, indulging yourself.

Lifting his cock, you nose down his length. His eyes turn wide, but still, no protests.

“Can I put your balls in my mouth?” You ask, doing just as he told you to do, embellishing your simple sentence with pleading, fluttery lashes and persuasive, pinched together brows. 

His lips press into a purse as he swallows, and then they part with approval. “Yes,” he says. You watch as his tongue swipes along his plump bottom lip, and you can’t help but smile up at him. 

Appreciation sits on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t say it, you show it. Bowing your face low, you lick up the centre of his sack, flattening your slow moving tongue with an oath of sincerity — this makes you burn. For a moment, you believe that you’d be content if this was for you and you only, but then you meet his gaze, and you see the way he burns too.

His eyes devour you — your hand wrapped around his cock, thumb barely touching index, your chin settled deep between his thighs. You burn identically and it makes the swirl of butterflies in your stomach rise high, beating heavily in your chest. You get lost for a moment, but a thumb on your cheek, sweetly swiping softly against your skin, brings you right back.

“Pretty girl,” he hums. 

You tilt your head, nuzzling into his grip, humming a tender thank you. His thumb swipes again, just under your eye before settling behind your ear, sitting there with no intention but to be tethered to you.

It’s sweet, and you return the gesture, pressing two kisses, one to each side. You shift your focus, returning back to the moment.

Head still partially in the clouds, you do something daring without thinking, and you suck one of his balls into your mouth. Eddie lunges forward, bending at the waist, nearly folding in half as his stomach tenses harshly. He whimpers, and you pull back immediately.

“Sorry!” You shift, looking at his contorted expression. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

He quickly relaxes himself, patting your cheek as he settles, unclenching his thighs that had tightened at your sides.

“No — no.” He shakes his head, catching his breath “Do it again.” He gently guides you back down. “I was just distracted, caught me off guard,” he explains.

Distracted like you were. You understand, and you let him guide your face back down. 

This time you’re careful. With his eyes on you, you start again, licking, feeling the silky skin with your tongue as you gauge his reaction, peering up at him through your lashes. He nods, and you carefully take him into your mouth, letting your tongue roll cautiously along the velvet skin. 

You’re careful not to do too much, but you grow more confident when you see the way his mouth falls open with his own appreciation. 

“Fuck,” he exhales. “Just like that. Good girl,” he praises, groaning as you suckle delicately. His cock jumps in your loose fist, reminding you just how long it's been since you’ve paid it any attention. Tightening your grip, you run your fist up, then down languidly, multitasking in a way that has Eddie gaping, jaw slack, mouth parted wide, eyes owlish and filled to the brim with heated astonishment. 

With your mouth, you switch to his other side, doing the same, rolling your tongue exploringly, seeing what has his stomach tensing and noises pulling from his lungs. 

As you let your thumb run over his leaking head, he lets out a throaty groan. His thighs tense around you once more, but instead of backing away, you lean into it, embracing the new-found way to make him squirm. 

His breathing quickly becomes rapid as you take more of him into your mouth, sucking more confidently, and pulling away every now and again to press deserved kisses. Your fist moves quicker, focusing on the tip — purposeful, as you remember what he taught you. 

You suck, and glide your hand in smooth strokes, over and over, showing him just how much you like him. If he didn’t believe you before, he has to now. 

With a strong, devoted rhythm built, the skin against your tongue eventually begins to pull taut. He throbs in your hand. You know before he says anything, even before his hand can flex its grip on your cheek. You pull away, letting him fall from your mouth with a quiet pop. He lets out a worn sigh of relief as you sever the threads of spit from your mouth to his balls and shift, moving back to his wired-up cock, twitching at just the sensation of your breath on his over-flushed tip.

Rearranging yourself, you sink your fist, moving it low to his base, and then you adjust, moving your hand to cradle his balls in your palm. His stomach flexes and he lets out a pitiful whimper — he's so close, even while you're barely touching him.

“Please,” he rasps through a strained breath. 

You have nothing but appreciation for the man in front of you, reduced to pleading. You want nothing more than to satisfy him.

Gentle, a thing of the past. You take his cock in your mouth deeply. Swallowing his thickness down, taking him as far as he fits, pressing him to the very back of your throat. Your eyes water, and you breathe heavily through your nose, never once forgetting to massage him in your hand.

His chest heaves, and his fingers weave their way into the hairs at the base of your neck, tugging — communicating. His helpless moans draw out, getting longer and deeper, drawing out each and every flutter in your belly, adding to your fire. 

You can’t believe you’ve been sitting around, tutoring him, teaching him math when you could have been doing this. This is much better — much, much more fulfilling. 

You rise and fall, bobbing quickly, and he encourages you, helping you find the pace that brings him to his edge. He swells in your mouth, and draws upwards in your hand. You hum, encouraging him to let go.

“I’m gonna —” he tries to speak, but a rogue whine cuts him off. He sucks in a sharp breath — “I’m cumming, I’m —” Panic invades his voice as his grip in your hair turns harsh, pulling, stinging your scalp. You hum again, and then you feel the spill. 

The warmth of his cum invades the back of your throat, loading your senses with the distinctly musky taste and a bitter-flavoured swell of sweetness in your chest. Pleased, you swallow it down, and ask for more with the purse of your lips on his overworked tip. His hips buck up into you as you happily swallow everything you can, lapping it up with your appeasing tongue. 

His body relaxes until you don’t stop. Then he’s flexing again, sucking in harsh, gasp-like breaths, using his hands in your hair to guide you away from his over-sensitive cock. 

Both his palms cup your cheeks and you rise, straightening out your spine, walking your knees up the mattress to be closer to him. His hand falls to your knee, encouraging a bend, welcoming you back into his lap. You happily take a careful seat on his thighs. 

“Holy fucking shit,” Eddie gushes unapologetically. 

His body slouches into the mattress, but he continues to beakon you forward. You follow his weak, weary pull and he guides you to his lips, attaching his mouth to yours in a lazy kiss. His beholden tongue greets yours, unaffected by the lingering flavour of his seed that coats your lips and mixes with your spit. He devours it gratefully. 

“That was —” he starts, pulling away just to peck your lips again — “So, so— I don’t even have words.” His hand slides loosely across the expanse of your bare waist as he presses a frenzy of chaste kisses to your lips, making you giggle.

“I did good? I thought I hurt you for a minute.”

“No— shit, you did so good, baby.” Eddie hums, fondly pressing his cheek to yours as he hugs you closer.

You feel his praises blaze at something inside of you, thrumming through your bloodstream, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t highlight your own neediness, the one left abandoned between your thighs. 

Despite the restlessness that grows in your twitching hips, you try to relax, focusing on the sentimental feeling of the rise and fall of his chest, letting your body slink into his, fitting seamlessly against him until his breathing returns to a steady rate. You patiently wait for him to make the next move — especially after him letting you lead most of this evening. 

Just as you’ve let your eyes flutter shut, resting them for a peaceful moment, a kiss to your shoulder has your excitement kicking up in your lower belly, waking up those warm, winged creatures once again. He presses another kiss, and then another, following the slope of your shoulder. Down the curve, to your collarbone, high on your chest, kiss after kiss until his lips meet the plumpness of your breast that spills over the cups of your bra.

The swell of your breast, across, to the centre, his lips find your sternum, and you keen into it, unafraid of coming off as desperate. 

It’s barely anything, just innocent pecks, but it has you impatient, tilting your head back, curving your body to offer up more skin to him. He hums a warm tone, affectionately following the path of your sternum, nosing his way down your cleavage, sighing a deep, warm breath against your skin, adding a few extra heated degrees to your body temperature — you thank him with a breathy moan.

His hands move to your sides, tickling along your flesh, leaving goosebumped skin in their path as he traces along the band of your bra, fingertips gliding until they meet the clasp.

“Please,” you whisper, biting your lip as he finger paints small swirls along your spine. You push yourself closer, needing more.

And he gives you more. The band tightens around your ribs as he finds the edge, and you hold your breath.

One clip comes undone easily, granting you a hint of relief. Two follows, leaving just the third hook stuck standing between you and the promise of pleasure.

Then he stops — worse actually — he doesn’t just stop, he completely abandons the clasp on your bra as his head pops up, nearly clipping the edge of your jaw. He pulls you flush to his chest, tucking your head to his shoulder.

It surprises you, making your heart pound for an entirely different reason.

“What—” you begin, but his heedful palm spreads across the plain of your upper back, halting your question, making you pause. Unsure and curious, you turn your face, pushing against his grip on you, trying to see what’s wrong.

His face is contorted into a flat, focused look as his eyes fixate on the closed door of his room. You’re totally confused by what has pulled his attention, but then you hear a clatter from the living room of his trailer. You turn to look at Eddie. 

His eyes pinch shut with disappointment. “No,” he groans, dropping his head to your shoulder in defeat. 

“Is that —”

“My fucking uncle,” he mumbles into your skin.

“Oh,” you say quietly, trying to fight the unresolved neediness of your body from turning you into a slouching ball of disappointment.

“He's not supposed to be home yet,” he groans, and it comes out huffed, like he's annoyed, but you know it's not directed at you. Part of you is relieved to hear that upset edge in his voice, because you know how easy it would be for most boys to shrug it off when they already got what they needed.

His palm swipes across your back, rubbing it in a soothing way before he pulls away, finding your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. 

You shrug, it's not like this is his fault. “It’s okay,” you promise. 

“It’s not.”

You smile. “It is,” you say, delighted by his sincerity. “This just means we’ll have to pick up where we left off another day.”

“But you didn’t get to cum.”

True but — “I still had fun.”

He dips his face, chin bowing downward, bitten lips jetting out with his generous empathy. “I’m sorry,” he says again, and you giggle at his niceness. He might be more upset than you are, and you love it.

“Eddie, you know me,” you grin. “You said I did a good job, and there’s nothing better than the satisfaction of a job well done,” you beam, and you’re very pleased when you get a good chuckle from Eddie.

“Next time?” He proposes with a raised brow.

“Next time,” you agree.

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merci buckets hope you liked if you did make sure to hit! that subscribe button and leave a like down below (aka comment and reblog <33333)

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[submattsmxmmy]

roughdom!stepbro!chris x bratty!stepsis!reader

🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, heavy step sibling kink, degradation/praise, dirty talk, thigh riding, unprotected sex, dick riding

🖤 summary: 🖤 when you find out that chris has a date, you find yourself getting incredibly jealous, so you do everything you can to keep him from going

hiiii it's @ariestrxsh ! this is my second account. if you're not into the whole stepcest thing, do not read further ! if you're my mom, god, or chris sturniolo, do not read further !

dividers by: @/strangergraphics

holdyourbreath

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

"Holy shit. You actually look nice for once!" You jeered at the rare sight of your stepbrother in a long-sleeved black button-down and matching slacks as you walked past him room. "Yeah, don't get used to it," Chris retorted back, cuffing his sleeves. Your gaze lingered on his long, thin fingers and the prominent veins in his hands as he adjusted his tie, tightening it around his neck.

"Where are you going?" You wondered, leaning up against his doorframe in a white tank top and silky pajama bottoms. You couldn't take your eyes off him, warmth pooling between your thighs. You'd never seen him get dressed up like this, and the two of you had been to a funeral together.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Chris smirked, dodging your question as he peered at his reflection in the mirror. "What are you being so secretive for? Just tell me," you replied, taking a few steps closer to him. He ignored you.

You caught a whiff of something that had notes of cedar and some kind of spice you vaguely recognized. You tugged on his black tie to pull him closer to you, pressing your nose up against his collar. "Chris. Are you wearing cologne?" You asked him, furrowing your brow. It really wasn't like him to put any effort into his appearance, never mind his scent.

"I'm going on a date, alright? Now, can you scram and let me finish getting ready?" Chris waved you away, smoothing out his tie. "So, when you fuck me, you wear your sweaty shirt you played basketball in, and when you're trying to fuck another girl, you get dressed up all nice, huh?" You sneered, shoving him. There was a bit of real anger behind it.

"Woah. Who said anything about me fucking her? This is our first date," Chris told you, defensively throwing up his arms. "So, you're going on a date, and you don't even know if you're gonna get laid!?" You asked, raising your voice.

You didn't know what hurt worse - the idea of Chris fucking another woman or the idea of him going on a romantic date with another woman. You felt your heart sink as you imagined him holding the door open for her, paying for her dinner, and kissing her goodnight.

"C'mon. Don't get all weird on me," Chris sighed, rolling his eyes. "Do I know her?" You asked, crossing your arms and praying that the answer was no. His lips curled into a shit-eating grin, "maybe."

"Chris. Please. Answer me. Do I know her? Please tell me it isn't one of my friends," you whined, tugging on his sleeve and begging for answers. "Don't worry about it, huh? What's it matter if you know her or not? What do you care?" He snarked back, knowing his vague answers were driving you crazy.

"Chris.. don't go," you begged, pushing him onto his bed and climbing on top of him to straddle his thigh. "Are you trying to get me to fuck you before my date?" He smirked at you as you started to loosen his tie. "Not before. Instead of," you giggled, starting to unbutton his dress shirt.

"You're such a little fuckin' slut. You know that? What am I supposed to tell my date when I show up late to pick her up? That I needed to give my stepsister some first?" Chris snarled at you, grabbing your hands to keep you from tugging at his buttons.

"Tell her you can't make it tonight. Please, please, please," you whispered, taking his earlobe between your teeth and gently nibbling on it as you rolled your hips forward, grinding against his leg. "Don't go. I need you."

Your begging sent blood rushing below Chris' waist. It was getting harder and harder for him to resist you. He peered over your shoulder at the reflection of you two in his full-length mirror. "I've gotta leave soon. You can't do this to me right now," Chris protested, but he was smiling to himself, watching the way your ass poked out of the bottom of your silky shorts.

You could feel his cock growing hard beneath you and beginning to struggle against the tight black fabric. "Are you sure you want me to stop?" You purred, pulling your tank top off over your head. His eyes dropped to your breasts, his expression softening as he admired them.

"I have to leav-" Chris repeated, but you cut him off, pressing your lips against his, your tongue begging for entrance into his mouth as you rubbed up against his leg like a dog in heat, your drooling cunt soaking through your shorts. "You don't get to put on this sexy outfit and tease me, and then go fuck some other bitch," you whined into his mouth, your voice laced with envy.

"You're so hot when you're jealous," he whispered to you. "I'm not jealous," you denied his accusation. "Mhmm," he hummed in a dismissive tone that let you know he didn't believe you one bit.

You unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way, placing your palms against his chest and feeling his heart thump away at a faster pace. "You're actin' like such a slut right now. Really need it that bad, huh?" Chris muttered under his breath, starting to slip his arms out of his button up. "No. The tie and the shirt stay on," you replied, stopping him from taking his clothes off the rest of the way.

He smirked and let out a small chuckle. "What? Y'like the way I look in a suit?" He wondered aloud, moving his hands to your waist. "I fucking love it. You have no idea how much it's turning me on right now," you whispered into his ear before you started trailing kisses down his jawline towards his neck, your hands lingering on his rapidly rising and falling chest as you continued grinding against him.

"Fuck. You're ruining my slacks, ya little slut," Chris growled, staring down at the wet spot you left on his thigh from riding it. "What are you gonna do about it?" You cooed, giving him a cheeky smile as you grabbed his bulge that was straining against them.

"I'm gonna fuck you senseless. You're practically beggin' for it. Take these fuckin' things off," Chris rasped, looking intensely into your eyes and tugging at the waistband of your shorts. You stood up and slipped out of the last of your clothing.

Chris watched in awe, pulling his aching cock out of his pants as your panties fell to the floor around your ankles before you stepped out of them. "C'mon. Come ride your stepbrother's cock," Chris demanded, stroking himself as he smirked at you and getting himself fully hard. You watched the way his hand pumped over his swollen tip, a bit of precum pooling at his slit.

"You're so fucking disgusting," you replied, climbing on top of him to straddle him again. "You're the disgusting one," Chris started to say as he lined himself up with your entrance, "because I think you fuckin' like it when I say shit like tha - oh my god," he groaned as your pussy engulfed his tip.

And you did. You couldn't get enough of the way Chris talked to you - degrading you, telling you what to do, reminding you that he was your stepmom's son. You loved how wrong it all was, and so did he.

He let out a relieved sigh as you slid down his length, watching the way it disappeared into you in the reflection. He admired the way you started to arch your back as your walls fluttered around him, stretching around him and sucking him in.

His hands traveled to your tits, his thumbs brushing against your stiffening nipples before he pinched them. You squealed in delight. He leaned in, taking your supple breast into his mouth as his blue eyes stared up at you. "Oh, Chris. Feels so good," you moaned, tossing your head back as his tongue flitted around on your sensitive nipples, suckling on them.

You grabbed onto his tie to stabilize yourself as you started bouncing up and down on him. He let out a guttural moan with your tit still in his mouth, the vibrations of his pink lips adding to the sensation. The two of you were already panting, fucked out expressions on each of your faces as you both chased your sweet relief.

He released your tit from his mouth with a small pop from all the suction he'd created. Chris' hands slowly slithered down the small of your back, wandering to your ass as he watched it jiggle in the mirror every time you came down on his cock with all of your body weight. His fingertips gently glided over your warm skin, making you shudder under his touch.

"Filthy little slut. Ya take it so fuckin' well," he growled as he delivered a harsh smack on your left cheek while you were riding him, causing you to arch your back again and call his name out in pleasure. He loved how reactive you were. He delivered another powerful slap. And another.

His hands firmly gripped your ass, and he started bouncing you up and down on his length a little faster. You could feel every vein, every ridge, and every subtle twitch of his perfect cock as he drove it in and out of you.

His glazed over blue eyes were locked on yours, his brows pinched together, and his pouty lips parted in a look of pure ecstasy. You started to exaggerate the movement of your hips, massaging his cock with your velvety walls. "Fuck," he moaned in satisfaction as you rhythmically grinded on him.

Your knees were growing weak, and your quads were aching, but the way Chris looked at you, his expression saturated in pleasure with a slight look of desperation in his eyes, motivated you to keep going. "Good girl.. don't stop.." He whispered, his gaze locked on yours.

He reached up and gently caressed your face, the pad of his thumb making slow circles on your cheek before he brushed up against your bottom lip. "So fuckin' pretty when you're on the edge like that," Chris purred, recognizing how close you were getting.

You parted your lips, taking his thumb into your mouth. Chris let out a soft moan as he felt your tongue swirl around it, pushing it in further. You sucked on his thumb for a few minutes, sending waves of pleasure through his body and straight to his cock.

Chris slipped his thumb out of your mouth and gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place while he pounded into you from beneath you. "Chris," you hissed through your teeth as he slammed into your cervix over and over, bottoming out in you and bringing you each closer to the edge as you slumped into him.

"Can't.. take it.. gonna cum," you whimpered, clenching your thighs around his waist as the knot in your stomach threatened to snap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, digging your nails into his back through his black button up as you bit down on his shoulder. "I love having such a slut for a stepsister," he cooed into your ear. "Gonna cum for me like the little slut you are?"

"Oh, my god! Chris!" You practically shouted, your whole body trembling. The two of you finished in unison, your cunt clenching around his throbbing cock, milking him for all he was worth as he pumped you full of his load. He peered into the mirror as you coated his cock in your fluids, watching the way the mixture dripped down his shaft.

You threw your head back again, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your whole body tightened. Your orgasm hit you like a series of cascading waves, nearly knocking you down and pulling you into the undertow. Dopamine coursed through your body, pleasure flooding your system as you climaxed.

As you came down, your riding slowed to a halt. Chris breathlessly chuckled into your ear, helping you off of him. As you stood to your feet, your knees wobbling, his cum spilled out of you and dribbled onto his spent cock and the crotch of his slacks. "Shit," he whispered, peering down at the mess as he reached for a dirty shirt to clean it up with.

"Oops. I guess you can't wear these on your date tonight after all," you smugly stated, pulling your shorts and your tank top back on as you glanced down at the cum stain on the front. "I'm not going on a date," Chris responded, tucking himself away and rising to his feet.

You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you for agreeing to stay home with me," you replied, refusing to loosen your grip on him. "No, I mean. There never was a date to begin with," he admitted, a smirk playing on the corner of his mouth.

"What!?" You asked, releasing him from your grasp as you glared at him. "I lied. I just wanted to see your reaction if you thought I was going on a date. You like me," he accused you, narrowing his perfect blue eyes at you.

"What? No, I don't. You're just a good lay. That's all," you nonchalantly shrugged, rolling your eyes. "You were begging me not to go. I don't think I've ever seen you so desperate," he teased you. "Fuck you," you snarled, pressing your finger firmly into his chest. "You're fucked up for playing with my feelings like that."

"And you're fucked up for begging your stepbrother to fuck you," he smugly responded, raising an eyebrow and grinning devilishly at you. "Fuck, if I had any idea how you'd react, I would've put that stupid suit on sooner."

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Fly Back Here, And Keep Warm

Main Masterlist - Bucky Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Bucky Barnes/Female Reader, smut (sharing body heat, p in v, fingering, praise kink), angst, light fluff, humor, no use of y/n, enemies to lovers.

Summary: Bucky hates you. He doesn't talk to you, or look at you, or linger in your presence for too long. But he's still saving you from the river. From the cold.

And maybe, if you're not losing your mind, he doesn't really hate you at all.

Author's Note: Doing the body heat fic. Had a lot of fun with it. We're post-Endgame but no one died, cause I am the god of my own emotional smut. Enjoy!

Word Count: 9.1k

There’s smoke in the air. Stars and smoke and a harsh wind that turns it all into a shifting, glimmering haze of cold.

You’re so cold. Frozen into your bones, blood stilled in your body, eyes blurring, because maybe everything around you has been plunged into ice as well, and the smoke has fogged the usual clarity of the glass.

The ice they put in drinks is always clear, like crystal. Smooth, see-through and glossy, a chill that’s welcome in the heat of crowds.

This isn’t that ice.

This is the ice that had been below your feet, only minutes ago. Clouded and thick and cracking in strange, dangerous places. And now it’s spreading through the world, and everything is fogged, and god, if you die here—somewhere high in the mountains where your bones will be eaten, and your grave will wash down the river in the spring—it will really fucking suck.

“Shit, God, Christ-“ Someone is swearing above you. A low voice that you recognize, but can’t put a name to.

You can’t really put a name to anything right now. Not when it’s so goddamn cold.

“Do not die on me, you got it. That’s an order, keep your eyes open and don’t die.”

You can put a feeling to that voice. A hot, feverish, wrathful feeling. There’s no name for the feeling, either, but it’s sparking in your blood and acting as jumpstart to your brain. Just enough to take a ragged breath.

“Thank fuckin’ hell.” The voice mutters, and your hands fist in a warm cloth. 

Your face quickly follows, when the cloth wraps itself around you, and starts to move your body. It’s awfully warm for just a cloth. In the dead of winter. Out in the wild.

Not a cloth. A person. Voices, you can remember now, usually belong to people.

“We’re getting you out of here.” The voice—person—mutters in your ear. “Just hold on.”

This cloth must belong to him. There’s a word for that, too, when a cloth is on a person, and it smells like them. 

This cloth smells like him. Your burning voice. The cloth smells like smoke—but a summer smoke, where wood becomes sweet from all the flowers and chocolate of the clear night—and a dried fruit, as well as something strong and spicy.

Your burning voice is strong. He’s holding you his chest like you’re nothing, and never breaking stride as he wades through something that might be a swamp. He’s not even grunting. Just speaking to you and moving a little more, useless warmth over your body.

“I told you not to step on the river. I said it would break, and you didn’t listen cause you’re trying to test if I can have a fucking heart attack, little dove. Trying to die on me, when I ordered you not to.”

You know who your voice is.

And he’s not your anything.

But no one else in the world calls you little dove.

It’s enough fire to clean off the daze from your eyes, and when you blink up, there he is.

Bucky. 

Floating above you, the smoke and mist of the mountains combining with the night sky to make it seem as if he’s found himself a halo.

He must have saved you, from the river. There’s a slight ache on your wrist—the numbness of the cold giving way to a rough, painful bruise—because that’s where he’d grabbed you to drag you out of the ice. The shirt smells like Bucky, and you’ve never been allowed close enough to feel his heat or smell his shirt, but now you can.

He’s invading your every dulled sense, and you can smell him, and it’s like a fucking drug.

You’re in pain. You’re so cold, and this might not even be real—you might already be dead—but you could swear that your ice-addled brain is starting to cling to the warmth and smell of Bucky Barnes the same way a patient clings to an opioid.

It won’t be good for you. If the world knows what’s good for you, they’ll take it away soon, because you can’t be trusted with it. 

Bucky himself has certainly never trusted you with it. 

You’re really not sure he did grab you. That you’re not still drowning in the river, and this is just some sort of reaper, wearing Bucky’s face, carrying you to hell.

Your hand is shaking, when you reach up to trace over his face. The stubble on his cheek feels what you always imagine. Soft and prickling and right against your fingertips.

Just to be safe, you still have to ask.

“Are you real?”

Sharp, blue eyes fall down to yours, burning right through your skin. “Course I’m real, I’m- Shit, we’re further than I thought. You need to keep talking.”

You hum, shaking your head and burrowing a little further into his chest.

Bucky never lets you this close. Usually he keeps you a safe pace away, as if you’ve been infected and he’s afraid you’ll rot him too. He always has, since you met, and you’ve always wanted to come closer, but that’s not your call to make.

You understand why he hates you. You can’t find it in yourself to hold it against him, or even to let it crush out your raging, white-hot wildfire for him that’s always burning where no one can see it.

And you try to be respectful. You really, really try to keep your distance, all the time, because Bucky shouldn’t have to organize and regulate his life to accommodate your existence. 

But your willpower is weakened. Every part of you is weakened. And your voice is only a shivering rasp, so you’re a threat to nothing at all, and it would be unreasonable not to steal as much warmth as possible from Bucky, while you have him.

You love him in secret all the time.

This can just be a little fuel to turn the wildfire into a hurricane, and then you’ll go back to secret once more. 

“You’re supposed to be talking, little dove-“

“‘M tired.” You mumble. “It’s cold, Bucky, I don’t wanna talk when it’s cold-“

“You talk all the time.” He grunts. “You were talking an hour ago-“

“Wasn’t cold an hour ago-“

“You still have to fucking talk.” He snaps, grip tightening around you.

You can feel his muscles flexing, hear the whir of his arm near your ear, almost in a perfect time with his heartbeat.

You can hear Bucky’s heartbeat, and it’s so fast, and you feel a little drunk. 

It might be the cold.

It might still just be Bucky.

“Your heart is pounding.” You frown against his chest, fingers tracing over the spot where you think it is. “It just skipped a beat.”

Bucky grunts. “I’m running. That happens.”

“Don’t run then. I’m oka-“ You start hacking before the word is even out of your mouth, and Bucky might leave more bruises on your body, with how he seems to be trying to fuse you to his chest.

“Convincing.” He mutters your name, and you feel like you’re going to cry, but all your tears have frozen in your eyes. “Talk.”

“I don’t have anything to say-“

“That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard out of your mouth, dove. Try again.”

You pause, your brain still not fast enough to come up with something interesting, something Bucky will actually want to hear, something that will make him maybe listen more, or even look at you, when all of this is done.

“Talk-“

“Steve ate bug.”

There’s a second where the wind and Bucky’s heart are the only sounds in the world, and you don’t know if he cares about that. Steve’s his friend, and the bug thing was pretty funny, but you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve seen Bucky laugh, so maybe he doesn’t find it all that important or amusing to hear about at all. Maybe he’s already sick of your voice and he’s going to drop you into the snow-

“Keep talking.” He grunts, and you take a shuttering breath.

When this is done, you’ll apologize in a million ways where you’re silent. Bucky never listens to you talk, and he shouldn’t have to now, just because you’d decided to be an idiot and fall in the ice. 

“It was a beetle.” You whisper into his chest. “A black one. And he thought it was a horsefly, so he freaked out, because you shouldn’t swallow a horsefly- Well, you shouldn’t swallow any bugs, but he was really worried about it being a horsefly, and I told him it was a beetle but he said beetles don’t buzz, and I said they can, and they can, Bucky. Beetles can buzz, anything that flies can buzz, but he was really freaking out, so he made me ask the beetle to come back up, and he still thought it was a fly, so I had to ask the fly to come back up, but it didn’t, cause it wasn’t a fly. Then I asked the beetle to come up, and it did, cause I was-“ You break out into a long yawn, and the air in your lungs is really starting to feel heavy. “’S a beetle. I was right.”

More silence. You can hear a birdsong in the trees, and maybe if you sing back, the eagles won’t pick your skin off your bones. 

“Steve swallowed a horsefly in the 30s.” Bucky grunts, and you blink up at him with wide eyes. “Back when he was still a twig. It nearly killed him.”

“I know.” You mumble. “I asked him after, cause he was really freaked out, and he told me. He said not to tell anyone.” You pause. “Oops.”

“I don’t count, doll. I already knew.”

“Oh.” Your smile returns, and you can’t tell if you’re losing your mind from the cold or just happy Bucky called you doll. “Right.”

“You’re not done talking.”

You shake your head. “‘m tired-“

“I- Shit, I know you are,” Bucky says your name, and tonight might be the most he’s ever said it. This might be the most he’s ever spoken to you.

You hope it never, ever ends. You hope that for the rest of time Bucky’s voice saying your name sings to you in the spaces between silence, his heartbeat keeping rhythm like a drum.

“You still need to talk.” Bucky’s voice is almost a growl. You feel kind of dizzy. “Fucking hell, little dove, just keep talking, first time you’re shutting up and it’s-“

“‘M sorry.” You’re definitely going to try now. Bucky doesn’t deserve this. “I know I talk a lot, I’m just-“ Another yawn. It feels like an iron is pressing over your brow. “I’m so tired-“

“I know, doll, I know.” Bucky lets out a long breath that ghosts over your skin, and the shivers up your spine are warm. “Just keep- Say fucking anything-“

“Tony fell off the roof.” You hum, letting everything that comes to your head slip out, just to ease what sounds like something close to pain in Bucky’s voice.

You really must be losing your mind. 

“He was doing experiments, and he fell off the roof, and then I got yelled at cause I didn’t catch him, but I was laughing, Bucky. It was funny, he yelped, and I didn’t mean to let him fall, but he still stole all my chocolate because he was angry, and that wasn’t nice, it was the expensive chocolate that Nat gave me-“

“From that place in Canada.” Bucky cuts you off with short words, and you nod a little stupidly. Everything is starting to blend and flow together, and there’s a numbness creeping up your spine you’re too tired to stop.

“Yeah, and she told me that you lost your favorite gloves on that mission, which sucks ass. But I-“ Another yawn. This one seems to be creeping into your eyes. “I can make you feel better, Buck, cause I’ve got a secret.”

Bucky grunts. “That right?”

You nod again. “I’ve got three secrets. ’S a lot of secrets.”

His chest vibrates slightly, and a smooth sound that’s better than anything sounds near your ear. “Three secrets is a lot of secrets. You want to share-“

“There’s someone who won’t listen to me.” You hum, playing with his shirt. “I know cause Nat said she got me the chocolate, but she’s a liar cause when I asked the box to open it said no, said I had to read the note first, and note said to give it to me, and it wasn’t in Nat’s handwriting. Then when I asked the box who got it, it said it wasn’t allowed to tell me. That it was a secret. Someone’s going around telling things not to listen to me, and that’s mean cause I’m not worth anything if people don’t listen. And then I asked Nat who gave it her, and she wouldn’t tell me either-“

You cut yourself off, and get a little colder as your words finally hit your own ears.

“I mean I asked, like, with my normal words. Nothing else.” You manage to look back up at Bucky, and he’s staring with a stone-like face out into the night. “I promise, Bucky, I didn’t ask, I don’t use it like that-“

“I know you don’t.” He mutters, his gaze flicking back down to yours, only for a second. “Your secret is that someone’s keeping a secret from you?”

“No, it’s-“ Yawn. This one is long, and the trees start to become a blur. “I’m keepin’ a secret that someone can resist me. Maybe they’re deaf. Can deaf people hear me? No, I mean- You know what I mean, Bucky-“

“I do. Second secret,” he says your name again. “Keep going.”

You nod, and you don’t even start this one before you’re yawning again, pulling your words together. “Sam has a girlfriend. He says she’s just a friend, but she’s a girl. And he’s fucking her, cause I walked in on them. Didn’t mean to. And I- Fuck,” you rock slightly in Bucky’s arms, trying to twist your body to look at him again. “I’m not supposed to tell you, Bucky. You can’t tell Sam I told you, cause then he’ll tell you my secret.”

Bucky frowns. “You just told me your secret-“

“’S Sam’s secret-“

“No, doll, the thing about your powers-“

“That’s a dumb secret. Mostly just stupid. This is my big secret.” You yawn again. You can’t really hear your own voice anymore. “You can’t know my big secret.”

“Well, now you have to tell me.”

You just shake your head, because anything else feels like it will drain you down to nothing. 

Bucky grunts your name, and suddenly you’re not as steady in his arms. It’s like he’s trying to jostle something from you. “Shit- You gotta keep fucking talking, I told you-“

“Why?” Your voice feels high in your throat. Hopefully, to Bucky’s ears, it’s not a whine. “You hate it when I talk.”

“No, I don’t-“

“Yeah, you do, and I’m sorry, but I’m-“ This yawn moves into your heart, and everything feels so slow. “I’m tired, Bucky. I’m sorry I fucked up, just please let me sleep-“

“No.”

“But you can keep going without me. You’ll be free.” You sigh, and you didn’t die before, but this feels heavier than sleep now. “You hate me, you hate listening to me-“

“I do not hate you-“

“’S okay, I hate me too, but least you can leave. I-“ Yawn. All the way over your skull, and anything but feeling the cold sounds perfect now. “’m stuck here-“

“You’re being delirious.” Bucky grunts, and you shake your head. 

You think you shake your head.

You can’t really think or feel anything beyond what’s falling out of your mouth, and the lingering, quickly dying warmth of Bucky.

Everything is so cold.

“Bucky?” You hope that was aloud. Based on the rumble of the last warm thing around you, it probably was. “I don’t wanna die here.”

“You- Fuck, you’re not gonna die, just keep goddamn talking-“

“Don’t let the birds eat me-“

“Nothing’s eating you-“

“And I’m sorry-“

“Stop apologizing and- Goddamnit, doll, you’re gotta be okay, just keep talking-“

You can’t keep talking. You can only let the last yawn sweep you away, and hope that—if it’s real—the last warmth of Bucky burns a little brighter in your body than hellfire.

———

Bucky didn’t know anyone at this party. Not in any way that mattered.

He knew Steve, but everyone knew Steve. Bucky wouldn’t be able to stand silently in a corner without being alone, because Steve had things to do. People to talk to. A show to put on that Bucky wasn’t ready to be a part of. 

Sam could stand with him, in his corner.

Bucky really didn’t want his only option to be Sam.

He’d tried to avoid this. First week back from Wakanda, he couldn’t possibly be expected to immediately become best friends with a whole team of people who’d tried to kill him, more recently than anyone seemed to be willing to admit.

“Tony’s apologized for that, Buck.” Steve had sighed. “And you just have to go in and walk around. It needs to be a good faith thing, so that you’re trying-“

“I am trying.” Bucky’s arms had crossed over his chest, his whole body bracing for a fight he knew wouldn’t come. “And Stark can shove it up his ass if he thinks I’m not-“

“He knows you are. We all know you are, but congress-“

“Who cares about congress.” Sam had leaned around the doorway, a shit-eating grin on his face. “I think you should come to the party for fun, Buck.”

Steve had shot the bird-fuck a glare, and it was a lot more generous than he deserved.

“You’re not helping, Sam.”

“I’m not tryin’ to help, Cap, but I do think it’ll be good for him. He can’t coast off our charismatic coattails forever-“

Bucky had scowled. “I’m not coasting, Wilson, I’m fucking adjusting-“

“And this’ll be great for adjustment.” Sam had shrugged. “You ain’t the only one here who’s done things they ain’t proud of, Buck. You don’t have a monopoly on brooding, and it’ll be good to bond with some people who don’t have an overt connection to your past. Proven method to movin’ forward after service is building those new relationships.”

Sam had, annoyingly, been right. That was exactly what Bucky’s therapist had told him, only without throwing in a comment after about how the ladies might go crazy for Bucky’s hair.

“A lot of people like us popped up during the Blip,” Steve had told him in the elevator, watching Bucky fidget with the cuffs of his shirt. 

It was too tight, and too loose, and felt like fire on his skin. He hadn’t earned nice things like a pressed shirt yet, but Stark would—apparently—get real damn pissed if Bucky showed up in anything less than proper cocktail attire. 

“I don’t care who popped up-“

“You will.” Steve had shrugged. “You’ll find someone you like enough to at least talk to, Buck, I promise.”

In the elevator, Bucky had rolled his eyes and bit his tongue, because grumbling that he didn’t need people to talk to right now wasn’t going to do anything but prolong the conversation.

Now, Bucky was really getting sick of his friends being right.

He’d found his corner, while Steve and Sam did the rounds. Right on the edge of the room, where the noise of the party was a little quieter, and most people weren’t going to try and ask him dumb questions about Hydra. The spider kid had been tolerable, and managed to distract himself, but the guy who got big and small kept trying to make small talk, and Bucky didn’t remember how to do that yet. Too many people—two—had already tried to touch his arm. The talking raccoon had been looking for him all night, and hopefully he wouldn’t think to find Bucky here.

Slightly behind a curtain, near an unoccupied balcony.

A previously unoccupied balcony. 

Someone was definitely out there now. 

Bucky could hear her. She had a soft voice that seemed to almost flow over and through the night and crowd, like a siren song that told Bucky everything was really, truly fine. 

She was talking to someone, though. And Bucky wasn’t sure he was even supposed to be listening to the conversation, but he couldn’t stop himself from leaning a little closer to the door, just to hear if there was a lull in the conversation. A chance for him to slip in, and be able to report back to Steve that he managed to do something besides brood all night.

That he, possibly, made a friend.

“I made pancakes yesterday morning.” She was saying. “They tasted horrible. I don’t know how to make pancakes. Natasha said she could help me, but I think I should try to do it myself. And it’s not because I’m trying to prove anything, it’s because I- They’ll trust me more, if I do things myself. I mean, I’m still a person, I think. I’m not sure. I feel like a person. I feel… Yeah, I feel like a person. And don’t tell Steve I’m worrying about this, because then he’ll tell me I should see a therapist, and I don’t need it.” She giggled, and it was the best sound Bucky had ever heard. Soft and light, almost shimmering, making his body relax further as he tried to follow the conversation.

This woman knew Steve. And Natasha. 

Bucky could be a third person She knew. One she liked.

“You won’t be able to tell Steve anything,” She hummed, and Bucky leaned a little closer to the balcony door. “You can’t talk. But you’re a really good listener, even if you, um, don’t mean to be. Most people here don’t know me, and I can’t really go up and introduce myself without a prelude, because then people freak out. Tony told me I was allowed to talk, but I don’t- I make people uncomfortable. I mean, they’ll hear me later anyway. I thought about hiring someone else to play the piano, but apparently it won’t be as impressive. I think that’s stupid. We have all the money in the world, and it’s not like I’m not already impressive. If I had half the money Tony has, I’d hire someone to follow me around and play different songs based on what’s happening. Give myself a score. I think that would be funny.”

It would be funny. And if whoever She was talking to couldn’t talk, Bucky could. He could be a good listener, as well, if that was all She wanted. He could listen to here say anything for a million years and never, ever get sick of it.

“I just- I dunno, I don’t want to only be the songbird. And if I ask you too, you could tell me what I should do, but I’m really trying not to do that. I can figure this out myself.” There was a pause, and when She spoke again, her voice was softer. “I’m going to try to make pancakes again tomorrow. And if they’re bad, I’ll ask them to be good, and I’ll give them to Wanda as a thank you for the dress. It’s a nice dress, right? Shit- wait-“

She cut herself off with a clear of Her throat, and Bucky was a goner.

Because She started to sing, and he didn’t recognize the song, but he knew that they didn’t really matter. Every note was clear, like crystallized honey, there was something running under every word that was asking someone to speak. Not Bucky, but someone else, and suddenly Bucky really wanted to be the person She was wanting things from.

She wouldn’t have to ask.

Bucky would just do it. Whatever She needed.

He rounded the corner, because he had to see Her. See the woman who made him want to talk. Maybe it would spur him into actually speaking, or he’d see that whoever She was already speaking to was a nobody, and Bucky could be someone-

She wasn’t speaking to nobody. Or somebody.

She was the most beautiful woman Bucky had ever seen—every feature looking like it had been crafted out of clouds and flowers and water and the night sky—and She was leaning on the balcony, talking to a dove.

The dove was looking at Her. Listening to Her as she sang.

And Bucky was goddamn jealous. Of a bird. 

She was looking at the bird.

Bucky wanted Her to look at him. Talk to him. Sing to him. He didn’t even know Her name, but he’d like to learn it, because it would probably be beautiful, and he’d have to practice saying it in the mirror to get it right on his tongue.

“Hey, Bucky, c’mon- Fuck!”

Sam stumbled back as Bucky’s human elbow slammed into his gut, and there was something close to guilt bubbling in Bucky’s stomach at the sight.

“What the shit, man-“

“You snuck up on me.” Bucky grunted, glancing back over his shoulder. The woman had stopped singing. Now She was just looking at the dove. “What do you want.”

Sam straightened up with a groan. “I got something for you see, man.”

“Pass.”

“You can’t pass, Bucky-“

“I just did.” He didn’t have time for this. The woman might be gone soon.

“C’mon, man, you’ll like it, I promise.” Sam jerked his head into the crowd. “You can leave this whole freakin’ party after, but Steve and I really think you’ll like it.”

Bucky glanced back to the balcony, and the woman had fucking vanished.

He had no clue where She’d gone. If She’d even been real at all. And asking Sam if there was a perfect goddess of a woman who spoke to doves anywhere around here would make him sound crazier than he already was. 

So Bucky sighed, and followed Sam into the crowd.

He wasn’t really paying attention, at first. There was nothing to pay attention to. He was standing between Steve and Sam—like they were trying to herd him into place, ensure that he didn’t book if for the exits the moment the lights turned off—and Stark was up on stage, giving some speech about the unity of the Avengers, and victory against Thanos, and how they had a very special performance coming up to show off their best new addition to the team.

Bucky didn’t care. I could be the tree kid growing plants, or that fiery space-lady showing off, or the sorcerer doing all his glowing magic tricks. Bucky really didn’t damn care, they were all here because they were ‘special’ in stupid, pointless ways, and he wanted to shove Sam and Steve away so he could go work out if he was just losing his goddamn mind, or if that woman had been-

She was real.

She was gliding onto the stage with a bright, sweet smile, and everyone else in the room could see Her, so she was real.

And when it wasn’t muffled through the glass, Her voice was even more enchanting than it had been before.

Bucky didn’t know what song She was performing, but he didn’t know most songs anymore. He didn’t know how She was making the keys of the piano move on their own, but he knew from the balcony that She hadn’t wanted to. He didn’t know exactly what Her powers were, but he knew that everyone in the room was just as entranced by Her song as he was, and that the windows were opening on their own so that more and more doves could fly over their heads in a perfect dance, and the fireflies from the summer night could fill the room.

He knew that vines and flowers were growing up the balcony from the forest, all the way across the compound, and that there was nothing in his body but peace. 

He knew that—risking a glance away from her for only a second—everyone else was at peace as well. Steve’s shoulders were relaxed. Sam was smiling in a gentle way that Bucky had never seen on his face. Even Nat, across the room, was slumping and looking almost dopey.

This woman was dangerous.

Bucky knew he didn’t care.

And he hadn’t been paying attention, and he’d missed Her name. 

He needed to learn, at least, Her name.

When the song ended, he was ready to damn it and ask. Sam could make fun of him. Steve could raise his brows. But God, Bucky needed to know Her name-

“Follow me, Buck.” Steve started through the crowd, and Bucky blinked for a second before jogging after him.

“Slow the hell down, punk, you gotta give me a warning-“

“You caught up-“

“Yeah, but you still could’ve waited-“

“Nothing to wait for. I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”

Before Bucky could protest that he didn’t want to meet anyone, he just wanted to know Her, Steve was pushing through a curtain and the words died in his throat.

There She was.

Fidgeting with the skirt of Her dress as she sat on the floor and wiping Her nose, looking up from Her phone with a wide, pretty smile.

The smile wasn’t for Bucky. It was for Steve.

Bucky wanted to figure out how to make Her smile for him, then make that smile brighter than this one.

“Hi.” She said, and goddamnit just that word was the best thing Bucky had ever heard.

He needed to pull himself together. He couldn’t slip that he’d been creeping on Her earlier. That he knew She spent her time talking to birds, and it was the most adorable thing he’d ever thought someone could do. That She was looking like some sort of angel to him, and he was a damned man, but he wouldn’t mind finding a river to clean himself in, for Her.

Then Steve said Her name, and it was just as beautiful as he’d thought it would be.

She looked like Her name.

She looked like She could be Bucky’s whole world, if he was allowed to make her so.

“This is Bucky Barnes,” Steve said, and Bucky felt himself stand a little taller under Her attention. Like some dumb kid, puffing his chest out to impress a pretty girl in school.

She was the prettiest girl Bucky had ever seen. It was a fair reaction, and now She was smiling at him, so it was worth it.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky.”

He damn liked his name when She said it. It almost short-circuited his brain—as if he was the cyborg Sam teased him about being, and his only weakness was Her—and all he could do was grunt in response and stare.

He needed to do better than that. But before he could find the words, any words, one’s that were even half worthy of her, Stark pushed off the stage with a clap of his hands and a grin, and She looked away.

“Hey, Cap, you seen the Disney Princess-“

“I’m on the floor, Tony.” She cut Stark off with a dry tone, and Bucky was in love. “Can I please go home now-“

“Give me one more hour,” Stark said Her name with a fake pout, offering his hand to help Her up. She ignored it.

Bucky was going to marry Her.

“Do I have to sing again-“

“Not unless you wanna ask someone to do something-“

“I don’t do that.” She mumbled, shooting Bucky a look he didn’t understand. “I told you, I don’t use it on people-“

“Yeah, I know, just-“ 

“Tony.” Steve’s words were firm, and She looked more relaxed.

Bucky wanted to be the person who made Her relax.

“Stop pushing her.”

“Yeah, Tony.” She stuck Her tongue out at Stark. “Stop pushing me.”

Stark raised his hands in surrender. “I’m not pushing anyone, and I’d know if you were using it on people, everyone gets that bloody nose thing, I’m just saying-“ Stark paused, narrowing his eyes at her. “Your nose is bleeding right now, kid.“

“The performance was hard.” She snapped. “I had to ask the piano, and the animals, and the planets, and all your stupid guests-“

“Ha! You said you weren’t using it on people-“

“You told me to! And I-“ She looked at Bucky again, Her words almost frantic. “I was just asking them to relax, I promise, I don’t ask people to do things for me-“

It clicked in Bucky’s head.

She was a mind-controller, or plant controller, or object controller, or something. That was the song. That was peace.

That should freak him out. 

It wasn’t. 

She was still arguing with Stark about the party, nobody’s nose was bleeding anymore, and She was still the best thing in the world.

But She looked afraid of him. She probably knew what he’d been, and was worried about what he’d do to Her. 

She should never be afraid of him. She should be free and happy and flying around like all Her pretty doves. And Bucky would like for Her to land next to him every night, but as long as She was flying, he could just watch and listen until She asked him to sing back.

He’d just watch. She leaving to make last rounds with Stark, and still avoiding Bucky’s full gaze, and he could just watch. 

Whatever She needed, to trust him as much as She trusted her doves.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky.” She mumbled as She passed him, staring at the floor. 

She couldn’t even look at him.

He couldn’t stop his response.

“Have a good night, little dove.”

———

“You need to wake up.” There’s a warm breath ghosting over your skin, a strong voice saying your name, but you’re still so cold. “Shit, you just need to open your eyes for me, c’mon, shit-“

A high whine leaves your throat—you think it’s yours, everything is still sort of numb so you can’t really tell—and the world around you goes still.

Not the world.

Just a body. 

A big, warm body that feels kind of like the world, the same way that voice sounded like home.

“Goddamnit, dove, you’re so cold- hang on, I- I’m sorry about this, I swear I wasn’t planning it-“ The voice sighs, and that’s Bucky.

You don’t know why he’s sorry. He’s never done anything to you, and your love may be trapped in your body forever, but that’s not Bucky’s fault.

Your tongue is stuck to the roof of your mouth, though, so you can’t tell him that. You can only make a long sound of pain, and feel the warm body fold into you a little further.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Bucky grunts, and of course you are. He’s here. “I- Shit, I put my arm in the fire for an hour, and it’s cooled down now, but it should still be warm. When you wake up, I promise I’m gonna explain what’s happening, but you gotta wake up, doll. I- Fuck, I got secrets too. I got a lot of secrets, and I’ll tell you all of them if you just wake up.”

It would be nice to wake up. Bucky’s asking so nicely, but it’s still only a suggestion—no matter how much he makes it sound like an order—and he can’t make your body wake up. 

But his voice is starting to stoke your small, always burning want for him, and you think if you listen a little longer, it could sweep through your whole body and get you to move once more. At least to open your eyes. 

And Bucky’s never spoken to you this much.

So you’ll just listen.

“My secrets aren’t as interesting as yours.” He mutters, and you doubt that. Most things about Bucky are interesting. “I’ve been keepin’ a cat at my apartment, and Stark doesn’t know. You’d like her. She’d like you, too, but everyone likes you. That’s my second secret, I know you’re gonna say it’s not true, but I know everyone likes you. They’re planning a party for your birthday. Big party. I think it’s stupid, but not cause it’s for you. You deserve a party. I just don’t think you’ll like it. Big parties aren’t really your style, but when I tried to tell Nat that, she told me to shut up and grow some balls to talk to you before I talk about you.”

Bucky sighs, and your body seems to be lighting up one nerve at a time, because you shifting to be a little closer to the warmth all around you. 

You think it’s Bucky’s body. It’s a good guess, given how all his word seems to be rolling through your chest. How he grunts at your movement, and his grip tightens around you.

“Can you- Shit-” he mutters your name, low caution in his voice. “Are you awake?”

You hum—it’s all your voice can manage—and Bucky really seems to be trying to press himself into you.

“Thank Christ, alright- I’m gonna keep talking, okay? Is it helping?”

You press your nose right into his chest in response, and it’s warm, and now you can feel his voice even deeper.

“Uh- I’m not a good talker, dove, so- How about this. I’m pissed you fell in the river. I told you not to ask it to be more solid. You were shivering and your voice was already kind of going, didn’t think we could avoid a nosebleed, and goddamnit, it seemed like a good idea, but then you just looked sad, and you fell in- And I don’t hate you. You said I hate you.” 

There’s a long pause, and you can feel hands on your hips. They’re both warm hands, one of them bordering on burning, but you don’t really mind.

“And Sam and Nat both told me you thought that. That’s another secret, they figured me out a few months back. Both been telling me to do something about it, but I couldn’t. Didn’t wanna do that to you. But I- If I was in charge of the party, I’d get you some cake and watch whatever TV you want, then we could go to the planetarium, and I’d make you some pancakes.”

That sounds perfect. You wish you had the words to tell him that you’d like that far more than a party, but you don’t. Not yet. And you’re really not sure what’s happening overall.

“Here’s another secret. I got you that chocolate.” 

You roll slightly at that, your body seeming to understand what that means more than your thoughts, and Bucky’s chuckle rolls through your body.

“Thought that would get you. You like knowing things. You like- You like everything, and I don’t get it. I don’t like things like that, but I try to- Just, give it everything I got. And I’m, uh- I’m kinda running out of secrets, so if you could wake up and start talking, that would be nice.”

Another pause. You’re not sure if it’s the warmth of Bucky’s body, or his voice, but you almost have all your body and head back. Almost.

“I’ll listen. Just say anything, please-“ Bucky’s voice is growing strained, and he cuts himself off with a long breath. “And you’re worth more than people listening. You are. But for the record, I listen more than anyone. I like listening to you. I really don’t hate you, doll. Promise. Just, god, please wake up.”

That’s a command you can follow, just at the right time, as the words I really don’t hate you flow through your blood, and you feel… better.

Not warm. But better.

“Those are good secrets.” You mumble, and Bucky doesn’t laugh.

He just holds you tighter, and lets out a slow breath. 

And when you blink your eyes open, you realize why he’s so everywhere around you. 

He’s naked.

You’re naked.

Fuck.

“Bucky,” your voice is a hoarse, and when you tip your head back to meet his gaze, he’s looking at you like he’s afraid you’ll start running away.

You couldn’t if you wanted to. Most of your body is still frozen.

“We’re naked.” You whisper, and he swallows.

“I know. You were- The fire wasn’t doing enough, and you were turning colors people shouldn’t be, so I-“ He sighs, but doesn’t look away. “I’m sorry.”

“’S okay.” You force your body not to wiggle closer, because every part of it that can move really just wants to touch him. “Did you- are your secrets-“

“I meant them.”

“Oh.” You drop your gaze to his chin. “I- You never come near me, though.”

Bucky shrugs. “You never come near me.”

“Fair.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a beat, and then—before you can stop yourself—the words are falling out of your mouth in a flood of you need to know. Your brain is still too slow to piece things together, so Bucky just saying whatever the hell he seems to be getting at would be really helpful, because you need to know.

“Why’d you buy me the chocolate?” 

“Because I- Uh-“ Bucky clears his throat, his chin moving to rest on the top of your head. “You like chocolate.”

“Oh.”

“And I- Fuck, this is- I’m sorry, doll, I’m not good at this-“

“’S okay.” You curl your fingers on his chest, letting out a slow breath. “If you want to be friends, we can be. I, um, I love you, but friends is good. I like friends.”

Bucky tenses around you. You’re not sure what you said—everything flowing a little too quick and smooth around you—but it made Bucky tense, so you fucked up-

“You love me?”

Oh. You don’t remember saying that. “I- Fuck, Bucky, I’m sorry-“

“Do you?”

“Yeah, but I know you don’t want me like that, I mean, friends, maybe, but not that because I’m your worst nightmare, and you shouldn’t ever have to worry about losing control again. And I’m really sorry, cause I can’t stop my feelings, but that shouldn’t be your problem. And I do love you, I love you a lot, that was my big secret, and I should stop saying that but I can’t, I’m still really cold and I’m warmer now and thank you, for that, I mean, for not letting me die, but you really don’t owe me anything, Bucky-“

Your frantic words are cut off as Bucky tilts your head back with a tug of your hair, and kisses you.

He’s kissing you. Soft and slow, and his lips are little chapped but it’s nice. He tastes like salt and chocolate and that same warm smoke from before, and when he groans it rushes a whole new spark through your body, and he’s so warm-

“Needed to slow you down, little dove.” He mutters, nipping at your low lip. “Good that you’re talking again, but I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

You take a shaking breath, and when you lean back to apologize, Bucky’s grinning at you. All teeth and joy and adoration, that might be adoration in his gaze, and you don’t know what to do with it-

“Bucky-“

“And, just so we’re clear,” his nose bumps yours, and if you couldn’t feel him everywhere, you’d be certain you had died and somehow ended up in heaven. “That is not the type of control I’m worried about losing with you.”

You can feel the flush heat your face. You might move into bursting flames, if Bucky keeps looking at you, keeps running his hands up and down your back, the metal one is still so hot and it’s sending more, live-giving shivers up your spine-

“You’re still cold, doll?”

“Yeah, but-“

“Want me to warm you up?”

You blink at him, trying to read on his face if he’s serious, but all the right words to ask are still so far away. 

He looks serious. That’s his serious face—Bucky mostly only has a serious face—and there’s a fire in his eyes that’s brighter than usual.

His eyes have always been bright. Blue the same way stars are blue. The same way fire is blue.

And it’s burning right into you.

So you just move. Leaning up to press your lips carefully to his, and letting out a soft, happy sound when Bucky kisses your right back.

It starts gentle. Your hands gripping at his shoulders and his tongue carefully exploring your mouth, as if you wouldn’t offer him the world and every single piece of you if you asked.

Then you tug at his hair, his cock twitches near your thigh, and there’s the heat. Building in your core and looking for relief, making you start to grind into the sheets, into Bucky’s torso, until you can feel his cock pressing to your abdomen and if you’re ever going to be warm again, you need him now-

“Hold on.” 

Bucky’s grunt rolls through your body, and the second your arms wrap around his neck, he’s moving. Flipping you onto your back so your caged against the bed, devouring your squeak with a deeper, rougher kiss that’s just making you need him more. He’s playing with your tits and rolling his hips down above you, and you’re warm but you want to be on fire, and-

“Shit-“ You gasp as his hand drifts between your folds, his thumb finding your clit and start to rub slow, teasing circles all around it. “Bucky-“

He hums, sucking a small bruise into your neck, and his fingers start to rest right at your cunt, moving away every single you try to squirm into them.

“Fuck, please-“

“Tell me you want this.” He mutters, looking up at you with darkened, almost hopeful eyes. “I know I do, but you gotta say-“

You yank him back up in a borderline violent kiss, only pulling back to give him a full, toothy smile, and nod.

There’s something reverent, in Bucky’s gaze. You hope you can earn it staying there forever.

“I want you, Bucky.” You whisper. “I love you, and- God-“

That was all he needed. Bucky’s fingers push into you right as he dives back down into another hot, heavy kiss, and there’s too much pleasure building in your body to even really know what’s happening. Those two fingers in you pussy are pumping in and out at a brutal, perfect pace where he scissors that the exact right time, and crooks them right against the deepest, spongey and need part of your cunt, and you’re gasping his name and grinding down onto his hand, but Bucky’s not relenting. His kiss is only deepening as he takes every needy sound you throw at him as turns it into more, more, more-

“I’m gonna- fuck-“ You yank at his hair, and he groan into your mouth, and more- “Bucky, please, I’m-“

He pushes up, scanning over your open, sweaty features with a slight smirk, and seems to find whatever he’s looking for in half a second.

Bucky moves onto his knees above you, his metal hand pressing right over your clit and starting to rub-

“Cum, babydoll.”

There’s the fire. Relieving and washing through your whole body, burning you up from your core and making everything a new, better haze of Bucky.

He never looks away, as you shake below him, or clench around his fingers still buried in your cunt. 

Then he smiles, lowing back down over you as he gently pulls out, leaving a small slap to your pussy that makes your let out a soft, whimpering moan.

“You like that?” He asks, brows raised, and you roll your eyes.

“Obviou- Fuck-“

He repeats the motion, you wiggle under him—unsure if you’re trying to move away or closer—and Bucky’s grin might be able to power your heart for the rest of your life.

“You’re so beautiful.”

You flush, and that’s worse than the teasing. You might cum again from nothing at all. 

“Thanks.”

He hums, watching you carefully. “You like it when I tell you you’re gorgeous, little dove?”

You clench around nothing, your back arching slightly off the bed, and he sees it. 

Fuck. 

“Bucky-“

“How about if I tell you that you’re squeezing my fingers so good, I might cum before I even get my cock inside you pretty pussy?”

You moan, finding enough strength to reach up and whack his chest. “Shut up, I notice your hair-pulling thing-“

“Yeah,” Bucky shrugs, and whatever sheepishness had him muttering and struggling earlier seems to be gone now that he knows you love him. “But I can just do this,” your hands are suddenly pinned above your head, and Bucky scans over your body with an almost starved expression before looking back to you with a grin. “And my problems are solved, doll. You can’t escape me tellin’ you that you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, that you’re so sweet and kind and fuckin’ hot-“

You whine, grinding up into the air, and this is mean. You feel like you’re going to explode, and you can see how hard he is, but he’s just stroking himself between your bodies as you writhe beneath him, like the sight alone is enough to get him off.

“So pretty, babydoll, all wrecked for me-“

“I- Fuck me,” you try to vault your hips up into his, but you’re still a little weak from the cold, and it doesn’t nothing but make him laugh.

“I’m getting there,” Bucky drawls, and you’re going to fly out of your skin. “I just wanna take my time with my best girl, listen to all those pretty sounds you make, cause goddamnit, doll, you make some pretty sounds. Fell in love with your voice, before I even saw how gorgeous you are-“

Bucky cuts himself off with a frown, stilling above you, and you blink at him.

“What’s-“

“Forgot to tell you I love you.” He grunts, leaning down to press his brow to yours. “I do, little dove. Have forever. Just kind of got carried away-“

“I know,” you whisper, offering him another smile. “I love you too, and that’s amazing, but can you please-“

You grind against him once more, and his eyes widen. 

“Shit, right- yeah.” Bucky pushes back up, keeping your hand above your head as he lines himself up at your entrance. “Deep breath, doll, gonna go slow, alright?”

You nod a little dumbly, because there’s nothing else to do. Slow is good. He’s big, and you’re still sensitive, and slow—for now—is all you think you can take.

Then Bucky slaps his cock over your clit, and you squeak, shooting him a glare.

“Need words-“

“Slow.” You drop your head back, already too cockdrunk to make a proper, full sentence. “’S good.”

He chuckles again, and you’d reach up to shove him, but he pushes in, and every other though is gone from your head.

Bucky drops his head to groan into your shoulder as he guides himself in further, and it’s not enough. You’re slowly being split open on his cock, and you’re fuller than you’ve ever been in your life, but it’s not enough.

When he’s pressed right on that deep, needy spot without friction, you snap.

“More.” You whisper, and Bucky look up at you with a furrowed brow.

“Are you-“

“I told you to fuck me, Barnes.” You roll your hips, and Bucky’s nostrils flare as he twitches inside you. “Fuck me.”

He glances down to where you’re joined, back up to your desperate face, and gives a rough nod. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

You don’t think you’re ever going to go cold again. Not as Bucky fucks you into the mattress, pounding in and out of you with a brutal but careful pace, just enough to send you rocketing back up to the edge in a second, but not enough to push you over.

And he’s everywhere again. Burning you alive in the best way possible, and everywhere. Muttering more and more praise in your ear that makes you clench around his cock, then groaning down your throat and kissing you’re until you’re dizzy and drunk on him. On his taste, and free hand holding your hips still, and his dick slamming so deep into your that you can see heaven, and it’s all made of summer smoke and spice and Bucky-

“Gonna cum, babydoll.” He grunts against your lips, and you only nod, letting out another needy sound. “Where-“

“Inside.” You gasp, giving him your best, pleading eyes, and he groans.

“Shit, doll, you gotta be sure-“

“I’m sure, just, Bucky,” you arch off the mattress, throwing your head back into the pillow as he slams into that spot once more. “Please- Please-“

“Just- fuck- Hold on,” he moans your name, and that’s almost enough to set you off by itself.

But then you moan his name and his hips slam home inside of you, right at the same moment that he kisses you stupid into the mattress, and he pinches your clit one last time, and there it is.

You cum with a scream of his name, and there’s the stratosphere, and the sun, and everything warm and good is melting through your body and Bucky just keeps kissing you, reducing you to a moaning, oversensitive mess below him.

When he rolls you over, you stay caged in his arms, and his cock stays buried in your fluttering pussy, hot cum leaking down your thighs and onto him stomach.

Neither of you seem to mind, and this is just a little bit more of him you get to have, so you’ll stay like this as he allows.

Based on how the reverence on his face hasn’t faded—only seemed to bloom, growing into a hot, fervored ardor that could outburn the sun—he’ll let you stay here for a while.

“I love you,” you whisper, burying your face in his chest, and you can hear the grin in his voice as he responds.

“Love you too,” Bucky grunts your name, pressing a kiss to your brow, and if you do die, you’d like to do it here. “You warm now?”

“Yeah,” You smile, and hum against his skin. “I am.”

End Note: I get way too invested in writing the Bucky fics. Wish I had magic brain powers to write 50 things at once, so I could make all of these into big series. But alas, here we are.

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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[swytdoll]

the birthday boy gets whatever he wants! ft. satoru gojo♡

“you want me to sit on it. . .?”

when you told gojo satoru you'd give him anything for his birthday, you didn't think that’d be sitting on his birthday cake so he could lick it off of your ass. the request had caught you completely off guard, leaving you standing there, cake in hand, trying to process the absurdity of it all.

but there he was, eyes full of excitement, lips curled up in the cutest pout as his hands gripped your hips.

you'd be a fool to say no.

so you’d climbed on all fours, head pushed into the satin pillow. a soft squeal had escaped your throat as gojo’s fingers dug into your ass cheeks, spreading them apart, and then he was licking a strip up your crack unapologetically. “you’re so fucking sexy.”

your fingers reached underneath you, thumbing away at your gummy clit. he groaned the sight, bucking his hips against nothing. it felt like his cock was going to explode. the icing collected on his tongue was sweet, and he couldn’t help but pull your hips flush to his face. he needed more of you.

his mouth opened wider, hot breath fanning against your skin. then his tongue was circling your hole, dipping in just a fraction. gojo reveled in the wetness dribbling down your ass, coating his face.

"fuck, baby. . . " you gasp, grinding your hips back, fingers still gently swiveling against your sticky bud. his hands leave your butt and instead find themselves gripping your thighs, holding you steady, keeping you still as his tongue works its magic.

another long lap has your entire body shaking and it's a good thing he’s supporting you otherwise you're pretty sure your legs would've given way by now. he's sucking and licking at your rim like it's the best meal he's ever had.

he loves the taste of your ass. but when he starts using his teeth to bite into the plump skin of your ass cheeks, the way you cry out tells him that you love it, too.

"ah!" you moan, grinding your hips, "p-please fuck me. . .i need you so bad. "

his cock throbs at your neediness, his tongue replacing with his finger, stretching your hole open with a disgusting squelch. “mhm, so perfect. soon my love.” then he’s eating your pussy from the back. tongue flicking over your clit as well as your fingers as you roll the bud between your fingers.

you try not to make too much noise, but the wet muscle is so fucking good that you can hardly help yourself, letting out breathy moans as you continue to rock your hips back onto his face.

he has to hold you by your hips, keeping you steady as he works your glistening folds.

when his tongue finally penetrates you, you let out a choked moan, cheek pressing into the pillow, body curling forward as your fingers grip at the sheets beneath you. it’s over too quick and you whine when he suddenly pulls away. a string of saliva connecting his lips to your pussy, he mewls at the sight of you spread out and ready for him.

you giggle as he leans over, kissing the nape of your neck sweetly. then he's sliding into you, already have tugged his pants down his hips.

the stretch is overwhelming and it hurts, but gojo’s nothing but a gentleman, even when his monstrous cock is splitting you in two.

"breathe, baby," he whispers, rubbing your sides.

he lets you adjust, waiting for your consent and when you give it, he's slowly moving his hips. the way his pretty flushed tip hits all the right spots has you crying out in pleasure.

he's cursing under his breath, hands roaming over your body, touching you in places that only he can.

"so fucking beautiful," he gasps, "all spread out for me. god, i love you.”

his praise is always what gets you off, knowing that you're pleasing him is something you’d never thought you'd enjoy so much.

and then he's speeding up, snapping his hips up into you. it’s not long before your moans turn into sobs, his dick punching your cervix repeatedly. gojo satoru is fucking you like he hates you. even you forget he loves you as he bites down on your shoulder, hands squeezing your tits as his leaking cock rams into your soppy insides.

you're a blubbering mess, babbling incoherently as your eyes roll to the back of your head. his hands reach for yours, entwining your fingers together and he holds you tightly, his chest pressed flush against your back.

"fuck, you feel so fucking good," he whimpers, his thrusts growing sloppier, "such a good girl for me. she’s suckin’ me in-gah!"

you clamp around him, his eyes squeezing shut as he refrains from busting in you.

“b-best birthday gift e-ever!”

[miange1]

hiii :)

i wanna request something with lo'ak? i saw something where he likes to call the reader "mama?" i kinda want something like that but with male reader please? smut as well😓

sorry if it's weird💔💔

LO'AK SULLY

male reader, human reader, reader lwk autistic and is into the ocean, feminization, submissive top lo'ak, it's cute for like two seconds before they start fuckin, praise kinks, sweet talk(mustve been the wind), i wanna jerk off but, i miss my friend

note: skibidi

"mornin' mama." your head turned over for a moment, a small smile to your face before you turned back and continued your task.

"told you to stop calling me that lo'." your fingers messed around with the trinket, twisting and turning it. it was a sort of camera to help monitor the plants lifestyle, grace claimed she absolutely needed it or else she'd strangle someone.

"mh," he shrugged, kneeling behind you and his eyes curiously watching you work. how he called you that nickname was an honest accident. you had been talking his ear off— voice moving at a thousand miles per hour explaining things you found in the ocean and how much more cooler and interesting it is rather than the one back on earth.

he was completely love struck, eyes hooded and tail softly and slowly wishing around. "you're so pretty mama.." and he had instantly snapped out of it when you stopped talking, face hot and your expression filled with embarrassment.

ever since then it kind of flowed out.

"watcha makin'?" his head tilted and you looked back up at him. "you want something." you knew he did, you could just tell.

a wince went through his teeth, eyes averting you a moment.

his bigger hands lightly moved yours from the trinket, leaning down so his head could rest into your stomach. a small 'umf' noise came from you as he put himself onto you.

his lips kissed subtly above the fabric of your shirt, tips of his fingers grazing underneath it. "i just..missed you.." indicating he wanted to fuck you.

"missed me?" he nodded, inching your shirt up just a bit more. he wasn't slick, he knew that but he just needed you so badly he was going to lose his mind.

"so much mama," he gave you that look, that look that made your dick shoot up and he'd do it on purpose to get what he wanted.

despite you telling him that you weren't too keen on the nickname, every time you wanted to tease him, or make him feel like he was melting, you used the nickname.

lo'aks tail swished around behind him, hands in the same spot as before except you were completely nude. your cock tip leaking uselessly onto your stomach whilst lo'ak would inch the tip in before trying to go inside more and more.

you could already feel him in your stomach and he was barely half way in. you took in all of his sounds, the squelches and his little squeaks of when he thrusted inside just right.

he would just whine and whine— 'mama' over again, sometimes shortening it to 'ma' and try to dig himself inside deeper

"oh lo'ak..god, just like that..just how mama likes it, hm? so good.." your eyes closed in pleasure, fingers tangled in his hair and tugging on it just to hear a strained moan from time to time.

his eyes focused back up on you, filled with complete patheticness and submission. his hips stuttered a slight bit, breathes becoming more broken up and separated.

"ah, stop." and he did, almost instantly the moment you had said it. "wha— what, why?" he was afraid he had done something wrong, it was almost adorable.

"no reason," you kissed his nose, making his heart flutter and a deeper shade of blue come onto his cheeks. "mama.." he mumbled, realizing you had done that on purpose.

"shh.. keep going im sorry."

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi! Can i request for reader x batboys where they’re dating but reader doesn’t know they’re vigilantes. One day they ( as vigilantes) flirt with her then reader tells them that she’s happily taken. Thank you!

I’m only doing dick and Jason cuz my brain doesn’t know what to put for Tim or Damian. And this is probably a boat load of words that make no fucking sense when reading it, so I apologise.

Jason

‘You look lost sweetheart.’ You heard from above you only to see the silhouette of the vigilante red hood.

‘I can assure you I’m not.’ You replied straightforward, wanting nothing more to get home and cuddle up to Jason in your shared bed, after all it had been a long day and you weren’t in the mood to be chatted up by anyone, you were loyal to Jason no matter what.

‘I’m only trying to help.’ Red Hood tells you as he dropped down from the roof and landed safely in front of you before standing up to his full height.

‘I understand that but when you added sweetheart I’m naturally going to assume you’re attempting to hit on me.’ You said with your arms crossed over your chest. ‘I’m more than happily taken by the sweetheart man I’ve ever known.’ You added as a boast because it was more than the truth, and you could spend the entire week talking about how much better Jason was then any other man in existence.

Jason could feel his heart melt when you said that and was half tempted to rip his helmet off to kiss you senselessly, but he decided to be cheeky and milk this for all it’s worth if it meant hearing you speak about him in high praise. ‘Oh yeah? Does he treat you right?’ He asked as he leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, reading himself to hear whatever you had to say.

‘He treats me as though I made the stars in the sky and looks at me like I did too,’ you began smiling as you remembered the fondness in Jason’s eyes whenever you did something mundane, ‘I could just be standing there in a plain shirt and a pair of his boxers, looking like absolute shit but he would still tell me I looked stunning.’ You added as you felt the smile stretch further across your lips.

God you loved that teddy bear of a man so much you didn’t know where to put it most of the time.

You noticed that Red Hood didn’t say anything but that was because beneath the helmet Jason was fighting through urge to hold you in arms and never let you go, smother your face in kisses because of how fucking cute you were being without trying, however he knew that he better get back home before you did if he ever wants to do any of that and so he clears his throat and says. ‘It’s good that he does treat you like that, you deserve it more than you know, I bet he’d be devastated if something were to happen to you, go to war even.’

You furrowed your brows as Red Hoods words before shrugging. ‘I mean…yeah I guess, he’d do anything to get me back. I hear him whispering it when he thinks I’m asleep.’ You add as you felt a sense of familiarity from the vigilante but decided to brush it off when you checked the time on your phone and winced. ‘I should get going and I’m sure you-‘ you went to look over to where you saw the vigilante last, only to be greeted with the sight of nothing. ‘-do too…’ you trailed off before shrugging your shoulders and continuing on your way home.

Unaware of the fact that Jason was still watching you from the rooftops above, knowing damn well that he would indeed go to war for you, his beloved little chipmunk.

Dick

‘What’s someone as pretty as you doing in a place like this? It’s dangerous you know.’ Nightwing practically purred.

‘I’ve walked through here multiple times before and I can tell you it’s safer than most in Gotham.’ You told him, crossing your arms, unamused.

Nightwing raised his hands in defence. ‘Just trying to look out for a cutie like you is all, no need to bite my head off.’ Dick had a feeling that something might happen on your walk home tonight and decided to keep constant tabs on you the entire night as Nightwing. He could tell you were tired and just outright done with everything but he’d rather you be safe on your journey home than not, regardless of how safe your route home was.

‘I’m pretty sure there’s other people you could be saving instead of flirting with me. I’m taken for your information, and happily so by the most prettiest and albeit goofiest man alive.’ You told him with a smile as your mind drifted to imagining Dick sitting in your shared bed with Hayley in his sleepwear, snoring loudly despite trying to stay up for your return.

‘Pretty? How so?’ Nightwing asked as he eagerly leant in forward to hear you. Dick just wanted an excuse to hear you gush about him without knowing that he was right in front of you.

You sighed at the aspect of having to spend even more time with a vigilante that seemingly didn’t take the hint. ‘He’s got a smile that could light up an entire city for future generations, a laugh so pretty and addicting that you’d be more then willing to make yourself look like an idiot just to hear it again, and he’s got a beautiful set of eyes that you could get lost in no matter what because they’re just so…enriched in colour.’ You finished, the image of Dick’s gorgeous eyes embedded into your mind that left you feeling seen and loved.

Dick couldn’t help but smile at your words, not knowing what to expect when he asked you about how pretty he was, now that he had he could feel a burst of warmth within his chest that now encased his entire body. You were too sweet and kind for your own good and Dick just wanted to keep you safe from everything that Gotham represented, whether it was out of his innate selfishness to keep you for himself, to keep a bright light of his own in a twin as dark and depressing as Gotham he wasn’t sure but all he knew was that he wanted to keep you in his life as long as he possibly could.

‘Sounds like you love him very much.’ He says after a brief period of silence.

‘I’m more than anything.’ You replied without hesitation. Your hand reaching into your coat pocket, thumb caressing the cute charm Dick had bought you to add onto your keys, it helped you calm down in certain situations because it meant that no matter how far apart you may seem you still had a piece of Dick close by. ‘Which is why I really want to get home, so I can see him and our darling dog Hayley.’ You add with a smile when the blue staffy came to mind.

Dick remember where Hayley was before he left to watch over you, fast asleep on your side of the bed, which meant that when you came home you’d have to cuddle up to him as it was proven difficult to wake Hayley up when she had made herself comfortable. However if this meant that Dick got the chance to hold you close to his chest, he’d gladly let Hayley sleep on your side of the bed more often, and he did on multiple occasions.

‘Then I best let you go, don’t wanna keep either of them waiting.’ Nightwing said and you couldn’t help but feel ecstatic at the thought of finally getting to go home to your little makeshift family. You didn’t know how much longer you were willing to stand there when you knew Hayley was waiting for you impatiently with a boat load of face licks with your name on it.

‘That’s probably for the best because both of them can tend to get a little whiny when I’m even a second late.’ You laughed to yourself as dick couldn’t help but internally pout at this, he didn’t get whiny when you were late did he? He pushed this thought aside and smiled as he watched you walk away, keeping his eyes on your for a couple seconds longer to make sure you were okay, before realising that he should better beat you home before you find him not there in bed and quickly rushed up to the rooftops and ran like his life depended on it.

He wanted to keep his secret safe for a little while longer before admitting everything to you just yet.

[mattyriddlesbitch]

FUCKING GOD I NEED MORE MATTHEO RIDDLE AND OVERSTIMULATION 😭😭😭 I'm begging!!

I can just hear Mattheo's voice. "Begging for me again already, angel?"

You Can Take It

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Warnings: dacryphilia, overstimulation, fingering, cussing, unprotected sex, bondage

18+ Minors DNI!

Ever since he had overstimulated you the first time, he was always looking to see how else he could do it. He loved seeing those pretty tears and ripping orgasm after orgasm from you.

So when he found your secret little wand vibrator, he knew exactly what he was going to do with it.

He had you bound to the bed, hands and legs tied. You couldn’t close your legs even if you wanted to. He was kissing and licking and biting all over you, leaving little marks here and there. You were nearly dripping from how worked up you were.

“You have no patience, darling.” Mattheo said as you kept whining and squirming under him.

“Please, Matty, I need you.” You begged, trying to give him your sweetest little puppy eyes so he’d give in.

“So needy. I’ll take care of you, baby.” He said before giving you a quick kiss, leaning back so he could look at your pussy. “She’s fucking dripping, princess.” He ran a finger through your folds, making you moan. 

He grabbed the vibrator, turning it on a low setting and pressing it to your clit. You moaned, legs trying to close around the toy, but the restraints stopped you.

“Oh, look at that. Someone’s sensitive.” He teased, turning the vibrations up a level.

Curses flew out of your mouth as you tried your hardest to keep still.

“Your fucking pussy is begging to be fucked. You feel empty, angel?” He teased, watching your desperate and empty hole try to clench on anything.

“Yes, I need something, Matty. Please.” You nodded and moaned.

“What do you want? You want my fingers? My cock? Or maybe that dildo you’ve been hiding from me?” He asked with a smug smile.

“No! I want you! I want your fingers!” You begged.

“Oh, so you’re saying I’m better than your toys?” He wasn’t upset about the toys, he liked that you had them actually, but he did want to tease you. 

“You’re so much better. Please, Matty.” You whined, trying to move your hips against the vibrator.

“I got you.” He said and pushed two fingers inside you.

You were moaning and crying out from how good it felt. The vibrator and his fingers were such a deadly combo. He already knew how to get your sensitive spots and make you cum quickly with his fingers. The vibrator added onto that was making your eyes roll back and legs shake. You didn’t last long before you were cumming on his fingers. He praised and complimented you as he helped you ride out your high.

Except he didn’t stop. No, he turned up the vibrator actually, his fingers still thrusting in and out. You were crying now, body still trembling as you fought against your restraints.

“Mattheo, please, I can’t.” You sobbed.

He clicked his tongue. “How many times have we been over this, sweetheart? You can take it. Just relax.”

You just cried from the overwhelming pleasure, still pulling at your restraints. Your body was screaming at you to pull away, but you physically couldn’t. Mattheo was trying to soothe you with some praises, telling you how good you were doing. You screamed and cried when he ripped another orgasm from you.

“Good girl. I told you you could take it.” He said, pulling his fingers out. He left the vibrator on you as he came closer, pressing his tip against your entrance. “You’re so beautiful.” He said sweetly before pushing in. “Shit, pretty girl, you feel so good. I’m gonna have to use this thing on you more.” He said as he started thrusting.

You were just a poor sobbing mess below him. His fingers were nice, but his cock was so much thicker and hit deeper. You were moaning and crying, tears running down your face. And that was the hottest thing in the world to him. Your sweet little face with ruined makeup, crying from how good he was making you feel.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me and cum on my cock?” His voice was so sweet compared to what he was doing to you.

“Yes! I’ll be good!” You sobbed. He really shouldn’t be loving this as much as he did. He shouldn’t love seeing you cry and sob.

“Good, I wanna fucking see you cum then.” He said, his eyes dragging down your body, watching your tits bounce for a moment before trailing further to see him fucking your sweet pussy.

You came again, violently. Shaking, screaming, crying, pulling at the restraints. Those might leave marks later, but that’s definitely not a concern at the moment.

He couldn’t take it anymore either. The way you screamed his name, the way you were crying, the way your walls were clenching around him. He came right after you, filling your pussy with his cum.

He’s definitely keeping the vibrator, that’s for sure.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 | boyfriend's dad!cillian murphy x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | for some reason, your first instinct after the breakup was to talk to his parents; maybe because you'd come sort of uniquely close to them, for a relatively short relationship. you might not have gone to their house if you'd known you'd find mr. murphy there alone...

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ ONLY!! unprotected sex, creampie, oral m and f receiving), age gap (reader's age unspecified, cillian is 45+), hurt/comfort (but, you know, sexual comfort), infidelity, slight manipulation/coercion since the reader is very vulnerable at the time, somewhat inexperienced reader, degradation and praise, a little bit of breathplay, hair pulling, slight dacryphilia?, reader is slightly implied to be an immigrant/foreigner

note: yes I use his real name but this is just fiction and not meant to have anything to do with the real cillian murphy or his life/family so please keep that in mind!

He had a smile on his face as he opened the door and greeted you, but it fell instantly when he saw you biting down on your quivering lip, looking down to hide how red and watery your eyes were.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, voice heavy with concern as he reached out and rubbed your shoulder. "Oh, god— come in, come in— what's going on?"

He ushered you into the house, shutting the door behind you and wrapping his arm around you as you sniffled. "I-I'm sorry—" you began instantly.  “I thought— I don’t know why I even came here…”

But, actually, you sort of did.  You’d been wanting to talk to Cillian’s wife, hoping for some motherly advice, until he answered the door and you abruptly remembered she was in England on business for a week or something.  And you couldn’t exactly show up on somebody’s doorstep crying and say ‘oh, sorry, I thought your wife would be home— I’ll come back in a few days’.

You weren’t disappointed by running into him instead, really, you just felt a little weirder about it.  The two of you had never actually been alone before.

"Don't apologise," he soothed, "it's okay, just tell me what's happened. Are you alright?"

"Yeah," you sighed, trying to compose yourself a bit as he guided you to sit on the couch with him. "Yeah, I'm okay, I just... um, well, it's sort of stupid—"

"I'm sure it's not," he offered with a small laugh, "if it's got you this worked up."

"We, um... I think we broke up?"

"What?" he breathed, knitting his eyebrows together— he cared more than you expected... but it sort of made sense, Mr. Murphy had always made you feel welcome here. Mrs. Murphy too, maybe ina different way. Yes, it's bizarre to respond to being dumped by going to visit the guy's parents, you needed a sort of... mature, familial presence right now while you were so far from your own.

You took him through the whole drama as efficiently as possible, trying to regulate your crying so he could actually attempt to make out what you were saying. He listened thoughtfully, perhaps with too much attention compared to what you expected— after all, this was stupid college drama and he was so much more mature than all that. Still, you appreciated a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.

"And, uh, that's how he ended it," you finished with a sigh, sniffling as you recalled the heartbreaking conversation. "He basically told me that he's too young to be stuck with one person, and he needs to 'explore his options'..."

"Then he's an idiot," Cillian groaned, "and I hate to say that about my own son— but he's a fuckin' idiot."

"Well," you mumbled, "I don't know— I thought maybe he had a point. I mean, we're pretty young..."

"But look at you, honey," he offered pityingly, "you can't tell me this is what you wanted."

"No, but—"

"And yes, you're young," he added, "but not too young— not if it's real."

You bit your lip to stop it from shaking any more, and he cooed at you gently as he reached up to rub your shoulder.  

“Poor girl,” he breathed.  “Honestly, I always… well, maybe I shouldn’t say it now…”

You looked up at him expectantly, and he smiled nervously as he glanced away.

“Well… I guess I always thought that you could do better,” he admitted with a soft laugh, “but, you know, I didn’t want to say anything, of course.  He was lucky to have you, and I just hoped he would treat you right, but…”

“I thought I was the lucky one,” you replied with a thin smile and another little sniffle.  “He could be really sweet, you know— he used to be.  And I always thought he was, uh, sort of… you know, out of my league.”

“Oh, honey, no,” Cillian frowned, moving his hand up to your face and holding your cheek, wiping a small tear away with his thumb.  “You’re gorgeous.”

You laughed awkwardly, not sure what to think— or how to think— with him looking at you like that.  “I… I don’t know, you’re sweet, but—”

“No, really,” he assured, and only when you met his gaze did you realise how close he was.  You wouldn’t call it too close, only because it didn’t bother you like you knew it should.  “You’re so beautiful.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing actually came out… there was nothing to say.  He was coming closer, you knew it, and you wanted to reach up to stop him just as much as you wanted to shut your eyes and give into it.  You ended up sort of splitting the difference: you rested your hands on his shoulders, but didn’t push him away, and gasped slightly just before he kissed you.  Even a second of resistance could’ve given you some plausible deniability, but no, you fluttered your eyes shut and kissed him back; it didn’t help that you could feel how warm and strong he was through the t-shirt, holding on tighter to his shoulders with a hum.

His hands wandered to your waist, pulling you into him— and you were like putty, embarrassingly enough. With him kissing you like that, you really couldn’t do anything but let him pull you around wherever he wanted.  His lips were soft and gentle, his tongue teased you so carefully, and he even sighed against your skin in the sweetest way… you were totally helpless already.  

Sure, some part of you knew how fucking bizarre this was— that you were kissing Mr. Murphy, your boyfriend’s dad— well… ex-boyfriend’s.  You weren’t blind, you noticed how attractive he was when you met him, but you’d managed to successfully ignore it since then.  It made sense, after all, since the first thing you’d noticed about your boyfriend was his good looks… but Mr. Murphy was handsome in a totally different way.  Strong and broad— not especially massive or anything, still a lean guy— with thin streaks of grey in his hair, a patient sort of smile, subtle wrinkles around his eyes that added a sense of wisdom to his expression… really, he was a bit more of your type.  But that was something you had forced yourself not to acknowledge— until now.

You sat up slightly, holding onto his neck, breathing in sharply through your nose as you kissed him back a little harder.  You could feel him smiling— god, even just that made you feel so desperate— and he even moaned ever-so-quietly when you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathed against your lips, breaking away just enough to make you open your eyes— his lashes seemed especially long as he looked down at your legs curled up on the couch (and his hands petting them slowly.  “You haven’t been treated properly for a long time, have you?”

You whined in the back of your throat involuntarily as you nodded— how could he see right through you like that?  It wasn’t like it was bad with your ex, it was just… not good.  Not enough.  You wanted to feel wanted, not used— not a means to an end.

“Will you let me?” he asked softly, breathing beside your ear on his way in to kiss your neck.  You gasped, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close, head falling back to give him as much of you as he wanted.  His tongue was fucking fiendish, the way he used it to tickle along your pulse, the sharpness of his teeth making you jolt only for him to soothe you with his plush lips.

“Yes,” you panted, “fuck— I, god, I can’t believe we’re doing this…”

He laughed a little.  “I can,” he admitted.  “All I could fucking think about since I met you…”

That surprised you— you’d never noticed anything that would’ve made you think he thought of you that way… but knowing that he, apparently, had made a shiver run up your spine.

He certainly hid it well, playing the part of the slightly-embarrassing dad and polite husband so well that you never would’ve known… oh god, his wife.  You didn’t want to think of her now, yet the unavoidable memory stirred arousal alongside guilt in your gut.  You had no idea you were this sort of person— but you weren’t really operating logically right now, anyway.

He held your face again as he pulled back, petting your cheek— it made you feel especially juvenile when he did that, holding your chin to examine you.  This wasn’t really the ideal state for you to be looked at, in your opinion, with you having been crying all evening.  But he looked amazed by you, even if it was just for a moment before he looked down at your body and smirked.

“Take this off,” he instructed, tugging at your shirt slightly.  You thought it would’ve been a little more romantic if he helped you out of it, but it was alternatively a bit sexier that he was just going to sit back and watch you strip for him.  It must have been his way of demonstrating his power over you, that you were just going to take it off and toss it aside without question.  Which, of course, you did.

He smiled proudly at the sight, and before you could even get your bra off, he started to carefully tease you through it— fingers running around the edge, moving the straps off your shoulders, tickling up your sides as you shifted nervously on the couch.  

“Look’t that,” he whispered proudly, and you took a second to realise that he was referring to your nipples getting hard enough to poke visibly through the fabric; you felt self-conscious all of a sudden, even if he was clearly enjoying what he was seeing.  “So needy, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” you admitted, whining when he reached inside the cups and ran his fingers over your breasts— they usually weren’t so sensitive.  “Fuck,” you breathed, shutting your eyes as a way to try to escape his gaze.  “I… I need you.”

“Fuck, baby, don’t talk like that,” he groaned, “m’gonna try to take my time with you— how am I supposed to do that if you say such lovely things?”

His lips were on your neck again— and he was leaning you back, laying you down under him, tugging your shorts down with a bit more urgency than he’d had before.

When you were basically naked— or at least, your bra and panties pushed out of the way enough that he could see what he needed to— he purred at the sight, grinning as you hastily undressed yourself the rest of the way.  

"Of course he couldn't appreciate this," Cillian sighed, baring his teeth just a bit. "Of course he couldn't appreciate a perfect fucking body like this— a perfect little pussy like this..."

You were about to open your mouth to say something, though you hadn't even decided yet what it would be, but only a low moan came out when he held your legs open and dove between them, humming as he lapped at your clit. You couldn't imagine why you were so sensitive, but your whole body was shaking already just from the gentlest motions of his tongue...

"Fuck," he said, muffled against your skin, before he pulled back enough to bite playfully on your thigh. "Fuck, darling, you taste delicious. Christ. You're too perfect..."

He devoured you again, exploring all over you with his tongue as your thighs kept instinctively clamping down on his head. He kept looking up at you through it all, even when you couldn't stand to meet his gaze and had to arch your back from the pleasure. "Fuck!" you yelped, grabbing tightly onto his hair. "Fuck, Mr. Murphy, I— oh, god..."

"He never made you come like this, did he?" Cillian realised with a groan, nearly growling when you shook your head. "Has anyone?"

"N-no," you shakily admitted, and he moaned around you as he suckled harder on your clit for a moment until you whined loudly.

"Oh, poor thing," he cooed, "how could anyone taste this sweet cunt of yours, and not want to spend hours between your legs?"

He didn’t need to spend hours, though— the taboo nature of the situation seemed to turn your body into overdrive, making you so sensitive and desperate… or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, but it was hard to say.

The point is, all too soon, you were shivering under him, back arching up off the couch, holding on tightly to his hair.  He hummed approvingly, even moaning against you as he slid his tongue inside; he must have been able to feel you pulsing, moving closer and closer to the edge, because he shut his eyes tight and seemed to focus harder and pushing you further until you couldn’t take anymore.

“Fuck, fuck!” you sobbed, thighs shaking around his head; there really was no exploration to it, no teasing, he just went right in and expertly played you like he’d done this a thousand times.  Maybe he had… but, obviously, he’d never done it to you.  Were you that easy to solve?

Obviously, that question suddenly became the last thing on your mind as your orgasm wracked through you.  He growled encouragingly, still keeping his pace, but you could barely hear it past the ringing in your ears— and your own cries of his name, of course.

He only broke away when your squirms turned into real avoidance: you could only take so much, especially with him suckling on your clit like that.

You were almost nervous to open your eyes again— and you were right, he looked so gorgeous between your legs, obviously smug with having just made you come, it was nearly criminal.

“Is it really that easy to make you come, honey?” he laughed, petting your legs sweetly as he pulled back, looking up at you with a proud grin.  “That’s so fucking cute, baby…”

As he sat up again, wiping the slick off his mouth with the back of his hand, you got this weird, clingy feeling— wanting to chase him even just as he barely moved away.  

But he’d sat up for a reason, and you started to realise it when you sat up, too, and noticed the thick bulge in his jeans.

"Why don't you show me what you can do, sweetheart?" he encouraged with a smile, opening his belt for you. "I'm sure you've learned a thing or two..."

Though you still felt terribly nervous about it, you leaned forward towards his lap. Would it be awful to admit your mouth watered when he freed his cock from his jeans and boxers, holding it out for you as a little bead of precum formed at the tip?

"Show me, baby," he whispered again, "and look up at me."

You nervously blinked up at him, meeting his gaze from his lap, as you wrapped your lips around his swollen head. He bit his lip right away and reached up to hold onto your hair, groaning as you swirled your tongue.

"Fuck," he smirked, "you're sort of a tease, aren't you?"

You weren't trying to be, really, but it didn't sound like he minded too much...

"Oh, fuck," he moaned deeply, making you pulse inside as he tilted his head back. "Fuck, baby, that's good— your mouth is so fucking warm..."

He gasped and panted as he held your head, guiding it to bob just a little faster than you had been moving. "Sweetheart," he choked, "you're so fucking good... fuck!"

The praise made your chest fill with warmth, even if there was still some part of your brain that was recovered enough from the orgasm to remember how horrible this all was.  It was horrible, but perfect— and feeling his cock throb against your tongue was perfect, too.

You’d never been told you were so good at this before, but he kept moaning and petting your head encouragingly, whispering the most wonderful and filthy things.  “Just like that, honey,” he cooed, “mm— pretty thing… knew that mouth of yours would feel so fuckin’ good… just keep sucking my cock, sweetheart.”

That you did— harder and faster, stroking what your mouth couldn’t fit, moaning softly around him.  As you tried to take it deeper, desperate to please him, you gagged on his thick head.

“God, it’s so cute when you choke on it, baby,” he chuckled.  “Do it again.”

This time it was almost too much, but he held your head down and groaned deeply.  It would’ve bothered you more— not being able to breathe— if he didn’t sound so sexy right then…

Thankfully, he pulled you off just in time, making you yelp as he held you by your hair— only to kiss you hard, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.  Moaning, you melted into his arms, and let him guide you to straddle his lap.  Feeling his jeans against your thighs and his shirt against your chest made your heart skip.

He took another long look at you when he broke away, a new darkness in his bright eyes.

“You’re so sexy,” he laughed softly, running his hands over your nude form and raising a brow as he watched goosebumps break out over your skin.  “God, I need to be inside you…”

You bit down on your lip but it didn’t do much to suppress your whimper; lifting yourself up a bit, you grasped his cock and slid it through your folds, guiding him to your entrance.  

You both gasped when he slipped inside, even when it was the slightest penetration— his whole head wasn’t in yet, and you just knew it would stretch you more than you were used to.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned loudly, tilting his head back, “you’re so wet, sweetheart…”

Lowering yourself, you took in a shaky breath, whining slightly as he opened you up one inch at a time... and each one seemed somehow thicker than the last. His fingers seemed to dig deeper into the skin at your hips and ass the lower that you sank onto him.

You could barely believe that you took it all; that you relaxed into his lap fully even when you feared being split in half by how thick he was.  “Oh my god,” you blurted out, operating on instinct as you started to move— grinding back and forth, desperate for friction despite having been satisfied by his incredible mouth just a few minutes ago.

"Fuck, there you go," he encouraged with a growl, looking down at your hips rocking in his lap. "Ride me, just like that— fuck, ride my cock, little fuckin' whore..."

You whimpered at the insult, holding tighter onto his shoulders, but it only made you move faster. "S-so... so deep, Mr. Murphy," you whimpered.

"Yeah? You can take it," he promised darkly, holding tighter onto your waist as he dropped his head back with a low groan. "God, you're tight— fuck."

You gasped as he bucked his hips up, creating more pressure against your over-sensitive clit. "Oh, fuck," you breathed, struggling to cope with all the sensations he was giving you.

Both of you settled on the right pace, and he switched between resting his head back against the couch (giving you a nice view of his gorgeous neck, how could just a neck be so sexy?!) and looking down to watch you go.  “So fuckin’ cute,” he praised— though you were sort of surprised to hear him describe you that way at a time like this.  “So needy, honey… you want more, don’t you?  You wanna go even faster.”

Now that he said it: yeah, you did.  You bounced up and down, your moans coming out all shaky and uneven because of the movement, and he grinned proudly.

His hands wandered up from your waist to your chest, groping you eagerly as you gasped out his name in response.  “Love these tits of yours,” he informed you, sounding oddly sweet for how dirty of a compliment it was.  “Took everything in me not to stare at them when you’d come over for dinner… see what you do to me, sweetheart?  Haven’t felt this desperate since I was your age.”

Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing, reminding you of how much older he was at a time like this.  He purred when he felt you clench on him, obviously affected by the comment.

“Should’ve known you’d give in right away,” he went on, softening his voice to nearly a whisper as he watched you move with heavy eyes; you angled your hips back and moaned louder, his cock rubbing against just the right spot every time now.  “Hungry little thing like you— now I wish I hadn’t waited so long.  We could’ve been doing this the whole time… I could’ve shown you how much better it can be, when somebody really takes care of you.”

Whimpering, you felt another heady pang inside you— if he kept talking like that, you wouldn’t be able to keep your head on straight… then again, the fact that you were here proved that you were less stable than you thought.

“Faster, sweetheart,” he ordered again suddenly.  “I wanna see how desperate you can get.”

You furrowed your brows together, almost pouting, but did exactly what he wanted— you wondered if you looked as pathetic as you sounded, riding him recklessly, chasing another peak even when it took all of your strength in those shaking legs.

He grabbed you by the jaw and guided you into another desperate kiss— all teeth and tongue and low moans.  “Good fucking girl,” he snarled.  “Good little slut.”

“Fuck,” you panted, moving faster.  “Fuck, I’m close—”

“I know, honey,” he cooed, nodding as he moved his hand down to your neck.  “Show me how bad you need it, sweetheart.  Let me see it, I wanna see you come for me.”

Tossing your head back, you cried out his name again— why did you always do that when you came?— and felt it overtake you.  It was even heavier than the last one, even more numbing and draining, and you didn’t even notice how hard you were digging your nails into his shoulders.

When your body failed and you came to a shaky stop, he didn’t give you much time to catch your breath: he grabbed you tight, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, and began to buck his hips up into you quickly.

“Oh my god, oh my god!” you whined, overwhelmed by the feeling, holding onto him tightly just to have something to keep you grounded.

“Fuck, m’gonna come inside you,” he warned with a growl.  “Gonna fill you, baby, you’ll be so fuckin’ full of my come—”

You sobbed and buried your face in his neck, starting to cry again for a completely different reason than before.

“Tell me you want it,” he ordered, speaking roughly right against your ear.

“F-fuck, I want it,” you gasped, “I want you to come— fuck— come inside me—”

He choked out a few more swears, he held you tight enough that you started to imagine what his bruises would look like on you tomorrow, and with a low groan of your name, it all suddenly slowed to a stop.  You moaned weakly when you felt his cock flexing against your walls, even more heat pooling inside you.  With what little energy you had left, you softly kissed his neck— until he seemed to come back to reality and pushed you back enough to be face-to-face with you again.  

You realised suddenly that you were still sort of crying from the intensity of it all, and got nervous with him staring at you like that.  “I’m sorry,” you sniffled as you wiped your face.

“Don’t apologise,” he told you again, moving your hands away so he could look at you himself.  “Besides, you look even cuter when you cry.”

[greengoblinswifey]

can we get a fic where Luigi is stressed after a long day in his college classes and his gf gives him a blow job to help him relax? 👀 in excruciating detail puhleeeeze 😩

Helping Luigi out after a stressful day of classes.

Luigi sighed as he dropped his bag onto the couch, like he was trying to let go of the weight of the day. His dark, curly hair was slightly messy, a sure sign that he had been running his fingers through it in frustration, and his thick brows were still furrowed as he exhaled sharply.

You leaned against the doorway, watching him. “Long day?”

“Brutal. My professors are insane, my group project is a disaster, no one’s pulling their weight, and I swear if I have to listen to one more pointless lecture—” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “You don’t wanna hear all that.”

You pushed off the doorframe, making your way over to him. “I don’t mind listening,” you murmured, placing your hands on his shoulders. “But, I can think of a much better way to help you relax.”

“Oh?” he said, his dark eyes flickering to yours, curiosity sparking beneath his exhaustion.

Your fingers went down his chest, smoothing over his pecs then his abs. “Mhm,” you hummed, tilting your head slightly as you gave him a coy smile. “You work so hard, baby. You deserve a little something.”

His breath hitched just slightly, and you could feel his muscles tense beneath your touch. “What exactly are you suggesting?” he asked, his voice going lower, raspier.

You smirked, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before letting your hands slide lower. “Why don’t you just sit back and relax,” you whispered. “Let me take care of you, baby.”

Luigi swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he stared at you. Your hands went even lower, slipping into his boxers and taking ahold of his hard, thick cock. No matter how many times you had it in your palm, you just couldn’t get enough. m

You grinned, nudging him back until he sank onto the couch before sinking gracefully to your knees between his legs.

His head fell back against the cushions, a deep, contented moan slipping past his lips. One of his hands found its way into your curls. “You’re amazing,” he murmured.

He was so big in your hand, his vein prominent and pre cum leaking from the pink, mushroom tip. With your gaze doe eyed and needy, you stuck your ass out and slowly took his cock in your mouth. You hummed as he stretched your lips, vibrations spreading throughout his body. “Fuck,” he moaned, already getting lost in the pleasure.

You took him deeper, swirling your tongue as you did and using your hands to caress his balls that were heavy with cum until the tip hit the back of your throat.

Luigi’s hands went to the cushions, gripping as if grounding himself. “You’re such a good fucking cock sucker. Keep going,” he groaned.

Teasingly, you removed him from your mouth, running your lips along the shaft then replacing it with your tongue. You were a sloppy mess, salvia and pre cum dripping down your chin, eyes dazed and lust blown. “Mm, I love how you taste,” you praised, before taking him down your throat.

As you bobbed your head at a steady pace, his fingers tangled in your curls firmly but gently, thrusting up into your mouth. Your cheeks hollowed, and you ran your hands along his thigh caressing him. “God, this fucking mouth. You’re such a good girl helping me relax.”

He pulled you by your hair off him with a pop, a trail of saliva connecting you. He took himself in his free hand, slapping his cock against your cheek and your lips. “So pretty, baby,” he cooed. “My good little cock sucker.”

He dragged the shaft across your lips then lodged it between them, sliding back and forth as his moans grew louder.

“Holy shit. Open wide, baby. My dick needs to be back down that throat.”

You did as you were told and took him right back, your movements increasing, precise and deliberate. His hips bucked, balls tightening as your mouth was on the verge of tipping him over the edge.

He met your mouth with thrusts, each making you gag as your tongue slid across his throbbing length. “You’re really helping me relax, sweetheart. I wanna cum down your throat so bad.”

His resolve snapped as his hand guided you all the way down onto him until your nose touched his pelvis. You felt his control waver, his head tilting back as a deep, guttural sound escaped him. His fingers were tighter in your curls, pulling you up and down his long, thick shaft fast, as the sound of gagging and spit filled the room like you were nothing but a throat for him to use.

“God, you’re incredible,” he groaned, his voice breaking into praises as his grip tightened. “My perfect fucking girl.”

You slapped his dick on your tongue before taking him in once more, the throbbing unmistakeable. “C-cum in my mouth,” you begged him, your voice desperate and shaking. He relented with a deep moan, his praise spilling out.

“You’re so, so perfect, baby. Take my cum,” he gasped, as ropes of his hot load shot down your throat.

You swallowed every drop and looked up at him, ass in the air with lust blown eyes, sticking your tongue out to show that nothing had gone to waste.

Luigi’s head fell back against the couch, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. His fingers were still tangled in your curls, holding onto you like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

You smirked up at him, pressing one last kiss to his tip before shifting up to settle between his legs. He reached for you, pulling you into his lap and capturing your lips in a slow kiss. His fingers brushed over your cheek, as he deepened it, his tongue sliding against yours as he tasted himself in a way that had you melting into him.

When he finally pulled back, he let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “You’re unreal, amore,” he murmured, his thumb tracing your lower lip. “The best girlfriend anyone could ever ask for.”

Before you could respond, he dipped his head down, pressing a series of soft, grateful kisses along your jaw. “Thank you for this,” he whispered against your skin. “For taking care of me.”

You hummed, running your fingers through his thick curls, watching as his eyes fluttered shut at your touch. “Of course, baby,” you murmured. “You deserve to relax.”

Luigi exhaled deeply, his body sinking against yours. You guided him to lie back, letting him rest his head against your tits as your fingers combed through his curls in slow, soothing strokes. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close, his body completely at ease now.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Lu.”

[sweetiecutie]

Dilf! König headcanons

Warnings: mdni, age gap implied, smut, fem! reader, car sex, dirty talk, overall nasty

Dilf! König, who happened to be your best friend’s godfather. You met him at your friend’s birthday party - it was a hot summer day, weather absolutely scorching - just perfect for a pool party. So you came over to your best friend’s place, all dolled up in your short summer dress and light but cute makeup, to spend this special day with your closest friend. Their house was full of people - your friend’s relatives mostly, they said. They were especially excited to introduce you to their special guest - their godfather who lived far away in Austria and could only visit a few times a year. “He is mad cool, you’ll see it yourself!” - they told you as they led you to meet their godfather.

Dilf! König, who looks extremely intimidating, with his towering 6’10 height and hulking built, but is actually a really nice person to be around, with his quick wit and all the cool stories from his life. You and your best friend were listening to his army adventures with opened mouths, asking for more details in certain places. Wow, they didn’t lie, König is actually mad cool.

Dilf! König, who couldn’t stop himself from eyeing you up and down throughout the whole day. It started with fleeting glances in your general direction, trying to sneak a peek of your beautiful face and even more beautiful body to match. And then a pool party actually started - that’s when he was full on ogling you from his place at the table, pretending to be listening to his friend’s story while imaging how these soft jiggly tits would look like in his huge hands. He felt guilty for that - here he was finally visiting his best friend’s child - his lovely godchild on their birthday - and he couldn’t take his eyes off their friend. God man, take a grip on yourself!

Dilf! König, whom you met a few days later at the grocery store not that far from your place. So of course you came up to say hi and chitchat - it’s only natural, since you’re basically acquaintances.

Dilf! König, who felt his chest swell with something warm and fuzzy, watching you talk his ear off excitedly about your plans with his godchild - something about movies and spiderman - he couldn’t remember. But what König did remembered clear as day was a delicious sight of your perky tits visible through the low cut of your skimpy top, his impressive height only supplying with a perfect view from above.

Dilf! König, who so nicely invited you to go grab some iced coffee with him. It’s absolutely scorching today, and he was planning on getting some anyways, so why not keep him company? And he’ll pay, of course! You may drop off your groceries at his car and then he’ll give you a ride home afterwards, how does that sound?

Dilf! König who was now openly staring at your perfect body, practically undressing you with his eyes as you sat at the small faraway boot in Starbucks, smiling at the way you giggled adorably at his jokes, bright blush dusting over your cheeks. He couldn’t help all the dark thoughts popping up in his head at the sight of your lush sparkly with lipsgloss lips wrapping around a straw, wondering how they’d look like wrapped around something bigger.

Dilf! König who soon had you straddling him in the backseat of his car, his massive dick buried snugly inside of your weeping pussy as his hands glided up and down your body, guiding your hips up and down, practically using you as his cute little flashlight.

Dilf! König who couldn’t stop purring praises into your reddened ear, nibbling at sensitive lobe occasionally - “That’s it, baby, take that dick nice and deep. You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart. You like it when I make this pussy feel good, huh? C’mon, rise these sexy hips a bit higher - just like that. Fuck yourself on my cock, princess”

Dilf! König, who flipped you over onto your back swiftly, pounding your poor throbbing pussy mercilessly with his huge cock, making your eyes roll back in intense pleasure, mewling and purring incoherently into his ear. Thinking back to it now, you’re sure that his car was shaking like earthquake.

Dilf! König, who made you cum multiple times, giving you the strongest, mind-blowing orgasms you’ve ever had, turning you into a brainless babbling goo in his arms.

Dilf! König, who eventually dropped you off at your place as promised - hours later, with your legs barely able to keep you upright. He helped carrying your groceries, and just before he left your house he handed you something, winking cheekily at you before leaving.

You looked at what König gave you - a small scrap of paper with his number scribbled in messy handwriting on it, “call me” with a smiley face at the bottom of it made your heart flutter and cheeks flush with adorable pink.

And hell yes did you call.

Part 2 here

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give writers some love<3

[charliemwrites]

Still thinking about Nikto, and that anon ask I answered just a bit ago.

Content: Dissociation/Depersonalization, Unhealthy (not harmful) Coping Mechanisms, Codependence, Trauma/PTSD symptoms, Sexual Themes

After the hallway incident you’re a bit shaken. A life of a heavy burden, but your shoulders are used to the weight; you’re a medic. But what Nikto offered you in the hallway — no, not offered, but gave, devoted. It makes it hard to breathe.

You’re not sure if what he’s seeking (or perhaps found?) is solace or penance. You don’t think you have much say in the matter really. If God asked His disciples to stop worshipping, would they?

The comparison feels too bold, even in the privacy of your own mind. Smacks of narcissism and ego. You don’t feel powerful. You feel scared. Of what it means to hold this broken, burdened man in the palm of your hand, trying to keep all the pieces together without cutting yourself on them.

Don’t be so careless with your life, you told him.

He’s taken those words as religious creed. He doesn’t storm around corners, guns blazing anymore. Doesn’t drop from heart-stopping heights to stamp-sized targets. Hes not the first one out nor the last one in anymore — though he never lets you get out first or hop in transport last either.

Suppose that shouldn’t be a surprise.

He cares for his wounds now, too. Cleans and changes them regularly, doesn’t over exert them before they’ve healed. You’re so dizzy on pride in him that you kiss the front of his mask one day, telling him “thank you”.

He grunts in something that sounds almost like shock and shakes his head at you. You figure he doesn’t feel he deserves praise for doing as you’ve told him. You do it anyway.

Things start to settle into this new normal.

Until you can’t find him anywhere. He’s become your new shadow, another limb, and suddenly he’s gone like so much smoke. You’re both fresh off a rough, but successful mission. You’ve just finished a stint in the infirmary and your debrief. Usually hed take that time to clean off and change in privacy, back before you could miss him.

Where is he?

You find him bleeding in his room, trying to care for his own wounds. Mask off, shirt gone, a new knife wound added to his macabre collection. You scramble to his side and collapse at his feet, snatching the needle from his shaky, slippery hand.

“Don’t you ever—” you choke on the words, unusual tears welling. You’re a medic; you’re not allowed to cry during treatment. But all you see if Nikto and blood and—

“I am okay,” he says in that low, crackly voice. Gravel in a blender. “It is not bad.”

You swallow and don’t answer, can’t because you’ll start weeping into his wound. Just stitch him up, hands steady even as you sniffle and the rest of you trembles.

When it’s done, you start wiping away the excess, prepping a bandage. He’s so silent you can even hear him breathing, but you feel his eyes like a physical touch. Finally make yourself look up at him meet his piercing eyes.

“You come back to me from now on,” you say. Quiet, firm, fervent. “I don’t care what it is, you return to my side always.”

The silence stretches and stretches, and he just stares with that unfathomable gaze.

“Understand?” you insist.

“Yes.”

Those two commandments become that basis of his new existence. Nikto once thought he survived it all because he still had work to do. He was wrong; it was because he still hadn’t found his purpose at all.

He’s found you now though, and you are a demanding god. But not a cruel one

Your first commandment is atonement. This vessel requires so much work. Food and water and rest. Maintenance for every abrasion, upkeep to stay strong enough to stand at your side, to protect you. It is endless, bitter work. He doesn’t care for the labor itself, but it must be done.

It is made bearable with you.

Your second commandment is salvation. Your quiet chatter during meals, the lingering taste of your mouth on his water canteen. Your kind hands mending tears and holes, keeping whatever he is now whole and hale. Your company in the gym, on sparring mats, at his side at the gun range. The smell of your sweat past the mask, your laughter goading him into another round.

You let him sleep in your bed. Let him wake you with nightmares or memories. Keep him warm because this thing he inhabits doesn’t always remember it’s not dying anymore. You are so very alive, the realest thing in any room. Your touch is the only thing he can feel sometimes.

It takes him a long time to realize that his body (because it is a body you tell him, a living one that needs care) reacts to you.

That some mornings the press of you against him is especially sweet. That there’s more than relief and pride when you pin him down. That, at most points of the day, his body wants your touch for more than just grounding.

He’s hard most times that he’s with you, simply for the fact that you are there. And he is with you almost always.

(That it is not actually always grinds at him, niggles in the back of his mind. A sticking point. He wants it to be always, you with him at all times. Like when he used to wear a cross pendant.)

You notice, of course you do, sensitive to your most loyal devotee. He can’t tell if you’re offended, but you haven’t sent him away. Sometimes you flush and he thinks he’s certainly upset you, but for all he’s survived it would kill him to break your second commandment. And so he stays, even if he waits to be told to leave.

“Nikto?”

You never need to call his name, he is always listening. He likes the sound of it anyway. These syllables and sounds that have a meaning, that you use for him.

“Do you… want to do something about that?” you nod to his crotch. There’s a blatant bulge pressing at his tac pants. At some other time, he would probably would have found it uncomfortable.

“Do what?” he asks.

You shrug. “Get off? I could leave—“

“No.”

You blink but don’t seem surprised. “Do you want to just ignore it then?”

He shrugs a bit. There’s a flicker of amusement in your eyes. You like when he makes gestures. He tries to remember common ones, and when to do them, and tries them out for you. Though you never seem to mind his stillness either.

“It does not bother me.”

You hum, look like you’re going to go back to your tv show.

“Does it bother you?”

Your eyes dart up, mouth parting in surprise. You didn’t expect him to continue the topic. Neither did he.

“It doesn’t bother me,” you reply, tilting your head. “But if you want to do something about it, we can.”

We.

“We?”

“If… if you want me to do something… I would.”

He couldn’t ask that of you. Not ever. He’s not allowed to want anything of you when you’ve given him everything.

“No,” he says quietly finally. “Just ignore it.”

“Okay.” You smile at him, touch his hand. It is bare, mangled tattoos on display. He wishes he could feel it more. “Come snuggle in?”

Snuggle in.

Such a quaint turn of a phrase for a creature in your room, wearing a man’s face. He climbs in, shoes gone, mask gone. You wedge yourself against his side and he stares absently at the screen as you continue your show.

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Masterlist

[fireflyinks]

oh my god i can’t stop thinking about riding hamzah’s thighs .. is there anyway u can incorporate that into a fic 🙏

need your attention

hamzah x reader

a/n : okay this is a little 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 so beware, but tysm for this request i LOVED writing it, thigh riding is so 😋

contains : needy!reader, afab!reader, praise, no p in v, thigh riding ofc, pet names (baby, sweetheart, good girl), established relationship, Hamzah is kinda mean at first but he apologizes

18+ MINORS DNI

I watched as Hamzah sat at his desktop, clicking and typing away, editing the next slushynoobz video. I normally wouldn’t have been bugged by this, but I had now been laying on his bed for three hours waiting for him to finish.

Crossing my arms, I huffed, hoping this could catch his attention. It didn’t, of course, since he was too entranced in his video and had on the chunkiest headphones I had seen in my entire life.

I tried to be patient, scrolling on my phone until my eyes stung, and yet he still sat at his computer, clueless.

I think what bothered me the most is that he was the one who invited me over, just to not give me an ounce of attention.

Sighing, I finally stood up and walked over to him. I stood beside him, and after a few seconds he looked up at me and moved a headphone off his ear. “Hi baby, you okay?”

“When are you gonna to be done editing?” I asked flatly, almost cutting him off.

He shrugged, looking at his screen. “I don’t know. It could be another hour.”

My mouth fell open, “Hamzah, why do you invite me over just to pay no attention to me? I could be at home right now, doing something productive, instead of waiting on you.”

My words came out harsher than I had intended. I always tried to not lecture Hamzah over little things like this, but I was fed up.

“Why don’t you leave then?” He snapped, not looking up from his computer.

Hamzah never spoke to me this harshly either, and I felt my throat tightening as I nodded and walked away from him. He wanted me to leave? Fine.

“Wait sweetheart…” he called after me, standing up from his desk for the first time in three hours.

I silently grabbed my stuff, and was walking towards the bedroom door. He grabbed my hand and stopped me. Looking up at him, I could tell that he felt bad, so I stopped myself from leaving.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I don’t want you to leave. I’ll wrap it up, okay?”

I nodded, “Can I sit on your lap?”

Hamzah smiled, “Of course you can.”

The two of us walked back over to his desk, and I watched as he sat back down, patting his lap. I smiled, sitting down.

As minutes passed, I tried to be patient and wait for him to finish. As he peered past my head, his eyes once again glued to his computer, I watched as his arms flex ever so often, typing on his keys and moving his mouse. It was a tiny detail, one that I wouldn’t have notice while I was still sitting on his bed. But now that I was on his lap, his movements seemed to infatuate me.

My eyes grazed his body, trying to take in more small details. I’d admired Hamzah before, and noticed things the way he said “what are” (water), and how his cheeks puffed out when he was trying to keep himself from laughing, but those were just cute. The things I was noticing now were more than cute, they were erotic, and had me rubbing my thighs together.

His arms flexing, the way his long fingers typed at the keys, his hands just in general. I shifted a bit, trying to ease the sensation at my core.

I looked down, biting my lip as I saw Hamzah’s thighs.

It was the middle of summer, about 70 degrees all day long, so Hamzah had worn shorts. When he was sat, his shorts came up a bit, exposing even more of his thigh. I cursed under my breath, realizing how dirty what I was planning on doing truly was.

I adjusted myself, moving to where I was straddling his right thigh, and began dragging my aching core back and forth on him. I tried my best to go slow, not wanting to interrupt Hamzah’s editing time.

“You could’ve just told me if you were feeling needy, sweetheart.”

I paused my motions, looking back at him.

“Well don’t stop on my account. I do have a request though…”

Humming, I turned around so that I was now facing him. “Anything.”

“How about you take that skirt and these panties off, hm? I wanna feel that pussy on me.”

My jaw dropped a bit before I nodded vigorously, standing up and sliding the two articles off of me. I sat back down on his thigh, straddling him.

He was never this forward, and it was turning me on a bit too much.

“Much better,” he cooed. I bit my lip, beginning to move back and forth on him once again.

Hamzah was always the dominant one in the bedroom, but it was almost alarming to me how comfortable he was with this, and how quickly he took charge.

Smalls noises escaped my lips as I moved on him, chasing a release he wasn’t providing me himself.

His eyes were still on the screen, but flicked back to me every few seconds, watching as I pleased myself on him. I could tell he was struggling to not focus on me, but he had a point to prove and a video to edit. My cheeks burned, trying to ignore how humiliating this act truly was.

“Feel good?” He said in a husky voice. I nodded, continuing to move back and forth on him.

“You’re so needy for me baby. Couldn’t even wait for me to get finished editing, you just needed to get you off, hm?”

I whined in response.

He was getting an ego boost from this, but that didn’t make me want to stop.

“That’s it, make yourself feel good on my thigh. Be my good girl.”

Looking down at his shorts, I could see an evident tent forming at his crotch.

“Hamzah…” I whined, grinding down on him harder than usual.

He hummed, typing on his keyboard.

“Need your attention, please.”

Hamzah looked away from his computer, leaning down and kissing my lips. He pulled away, “I know baby, why don’t you finish on my thigh and I’ll give you all the attention in the world?”

His pupils were blown with lust, trailing my face. I nodded, and after a few seconds, I finished on his leg.

“There you go,” Hamzah encouraged, stroking my own exposed thigh with his thumb as I came down from my high.

I basically collapsed onto his chest, hiding my face in the crook of his neck.

“I liked that… a lot.” I mumbled, closing my eyes.

Hamzah smiled softly, “Me too, princess.”

I felt him stand up, holding onto my thighs as he picked me up with him. “Now let me take care of my girl.”

[ariestrxsh]

manipulative!matt x christian!reader

✟ content warning: smut, praise, light punishment, spanking, public teasing, sexualization of religious imagery, blasphemy, masturbation, fingering

✟ summary: matt has convinced you that the only way for you to stay a good, pure christian girl is to come to him for your sexual urges rather than anyone else.

dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Coming Down

chapters: | 1 | 2 |

"Matt, I'm getting that urge again," I told him, biting my lip and looking down at my feet as we stood underneath the same oak tree as last week. It was Wednesday, and we agreed that would be our meeting spot every week before service. "Meet me at my car after the sermon," Matt responded, tilting my chin up towards him with a long, slender finger. "You're such a good girl for coming to me. I know just how to satisfy your urges."

The whole time the preacher had the stage, I couldn't focus on what he was saying. My head buzzed with thoughts of Matt, the feeling of my hands in his hair while he ate me out, the sounds he made when he filled me, the way his voice got really low and raspy when he called me princess.

I held my Bible over my crossed legs and pressed my thighs together over and over as discreetly as I could to feel something, anything. And I prayed to God that no one would notice. Every once in a while, my eye would catch Matt's from across the room, and we'd share a quick but lustful look. I could tell we were both struggling to pay attention to the lesson.

Once service ended, I skipped off towards Matt's car. The air outside was warm, but there was a light breeze, and the sunset looked like cotton candy.

Matt beat me to the parking lot, and when we saw each other, he was leaning up against the hood of his car, biting his lip and smiling at me. He held the door open for me and extended his hand out for me to grab it, and when I did, he kissed the back of my hand. "You look so pretty in that polka dot dress," he said to me, making me blush. What a gentleman.

Matt got into the driver's seat, and before turning on the car, he glanced over at me. "Were you squeezing your thighs together in church on purpose?" He asked, his eyes narrowing and a smile forming on his lips. "I couldn't help it. I feel all wet and tingly down there," I said, embarrassed. "I didn't think anyone would notice."

"That was very naughty of you, princess, but don't worry. I don't think anyone did. I only noticed because I couldn't keep my eyes off you," Matt responded, tracing circles on my thigh with his fingertips. I breathed out a sigh of relief.

"You know, you can't be having naughty thoughts about me in church, pretty girl. I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson," Matt told me. "A lesson? What kind?" I asked, a mixture of fear and excitement in my voice. "You're gonna have to sit tight and find out," Matt said, turning the key in the ignition.

I'd never been to Matt's house, but I assumed that's where we were going. He looked over at me every few minutes as he drove, and at stop lights, he'd lean over and kiss me.

Once we pulled up to his house, he parked in the driveway and told me, "Nick and Chris are stopping for food on their way home, so we have some time, but not much.

I found myself in Matt's bedroom. He was clean and neat, and the lighting in his room was soft and not too bright. "Come here, angel. I have to give you a little punishment for getting all hot and bothered during the service," he smirked at me. My heart started to pound, and I swallowed hard. I didn't want to be punished. But I knew it was in my best interest to listen to him. "This is gonna hurt me more than it's gonna hurt you," he said sternly.

"Bend over," he ordered me, and he bent me over his knee and lifted up my dress, exposing my bottom. "Were you trying to tease me, princess? In the middle of church?" Matt cooed, rubbing gentle circles on my bottom. "No, I wasn't. I didn't mean for anyone to see," I whined.

"Do you have any idea how hard you made my cock?" Matt asked, talking through his teeth and I felt a loud slap! on my ass. I cried out in shock. "Take your punishment, princess," he smacked it again.

I wasn't sure what was wrong with me, but I liked it. Why did I like being punished if it was supposed to be a bad thing?

"What were you thinking about anyway, huh? Was it my cock? Or my tongue?" Matt whispered as his hand came down one more time, leaving another red hand mark. "Both," I admitted. "Next time you misbehave like that, it's five spankings," he warned me.

"I'm sorry, Matt. I didn't mean to," I looked down in shame once he was done. "I forgive you, princess. We all make mistakes, but our actions have consequences. Next, let's get you out of those pretty panties, and why don't you come sit on my lap," Matt replied. I did as he said, slid out of my lacey undergarments, and I sat on his lap with his right knee between my legs.

"Oh, sweetheart. Look at how wet you are. Is that from me punishing you? You liked it, didn't you? He cooed, spreading it open and peering down at my glistening pussy. Matt started teasing my slit with his fingers. I bit my lip, our eyes met, and I nodded at him. "Good girl. You took your punishment so well," he slipped a finger into my pussy and started pumping in and out gently.

I inhaled sharply, and I looked at him wide-eyed. I thought I had already experienced everything with Matt, but no one had ever put their fingers there, and it felt incredible.

"How's that feel?" He asked. "Like heaven," I answered, leaning back into him and rolling my eyes towards the back of my head. As I laid back into him, I could feel something poking me in his pants, and it just kept getting bigger and harder. He put in a second finger. "Oh, Matt," I whimpered, smiling at him. He watched my facial expressions intently while he played around with the pace at which he was moving his fingers in and out of me. I felt myself getting wetter by the second.

"Do you ever play with yourself, princess?" Matt inquired while a pool of wetness formed on Matt's leg from what he was doing to me. "I mean, I've tried, but I've never successfully finished," I nervously bit my lip while I stifled a whimper. "Show me how you do it, baby," he whispered.

With his fingers still inside of me, I started running the pads of my fingers over my folds, and it felt alright, but not as mind-blowing as when Matt played with me. "Do you remember that little spot right here?" Matt said, brushing over my clit with his thumb. "That's the sweet spot, princess. Start rubbing yourself there," Matt told me. He was such a good teacher.

It immediately started feeling even better when I took his advice and started touching that special spot. "Now play around with the technique. I think you like slow circles, but with a lot of pressure," he whispered. I did as he said, and boy, was he right. "Oh my goodness. That's amazing," I gasped. "Mmm. Good girl. You learn so fast," Matt whispered into my ear.

"That's how you masturbate, princess. But just because I showed you doesn't mean you can go doing it at church," Matt teased me. "You should only do this when you're by yourself or with me, and you should only ever think about me when you do it, okay?" He looked into my eyes to make sure I understood. "Yes, Matt," I nodded. "And just because I showed you this, doesn't mean you shouldn't still come to me when you need to be taken care of," he smiled at me, "just a little trick for when you're desparate."

He started finger fucking me a little faster, and I felt myself on the brink of another explosion happening. I continued to rub my clit in a circular motion like Matt had showed me. "Just relax into it, princess. Take slow, deep breaths," Matt whispered into my neck as I came undone around his digits.

I did as he told me, and I swear, purposely slowing down my breath added a whole new dimension to the rhythmic current of pleasure that overtook me. Time seemed to stop for just a moment, and I got lost in the sensual gratification I'd been mentally chasing since the last time Matt had me unraveling under his touch.

I came down from my orgasm like a feather floating to the ground, and a warm buzz lingered over my body for several minutes after I came. "Do you wanna know what you taste like?" Matt asked me, and I made an unsure face at him, but he held his fingers up to my lips, and I gently sucked on them. "Hmm. Tastes kinda weird," I told him. Matt licked his fingers clean while he looked at me, "I think you taste so sweet, princess."

Once we were finished, Matt helped me back into my panties. Then he changed his pants and gently teased me about the wet spot I made on his knee. "You were such a good girl for me today," he smirked. "Don't you want me to take care of you?" I asked, batting my eyelashes at him. "Of course I do, sweetheart, but I've gotta get you home and go pick up my brothers. What really matters is that we get you off. We can take care of me next week," he sweetly responded. "Matt, I can't wait until next Wednesday. I need you sooner than that," I whined desperately.

"Meet me under the oak tree on Sunday after church, princess," he brushed his thumb against my cheek while he looked at me with his blue eyes full of lust and hunger. "Let's get you home safe and sound, angel."

taglist: @ariithereyet @bsturnzmtt @sturnzluv @sturniolo-girl @strnlxlqve @sofieeeeex

(I kept the taglist short because I'm not sure if everyone who asked to be on my taglist wants to read this blasphemy, lol)

part three posted here 💖

[minnies-puppydoll]

{ Kinkmas Day 2: }

🎁 .*• Gift Wrapped •*. 🎁

pairing: minho x reader

summary: what's the best way to spend time with your lover if you aren't tied up? minho found a new skill to teach his viewers, and you just so happen to be the test dummy.

warnings: hard dom!minho, bondage, camming, sex toys, praise, degradation, impact play, overstimulation, exibitionism, homosexual/ship implications, if i missed any let me know!!

note: IM SORRY THIS SHIT IS SO LATE🫣

dating someone like minho was sure an adventure. you were aware of his camming job before you really got official, and to be honest, it wasnt really a suprise to you.

minho has always come across as a domineering person. of course, he still has his sweet, almost motherly caring moments for you…when he isn’t forcing your legs apart and showing his viewers how to treat a slutty pussy like yours.

even his humor seems sadistic, its like in every aspect of life, he loves to see you writhing the most.

minho’s cam show is all about BDSM instruction. all of the content is based around sexual safety and health, while also keeping it pornographic with live demonstrations, starring his obedient, loving girlfriend.

tonight’s live was no different, but it was a little intimidating you have to admit. minho would go out every week to this unknown location, he wouldn’t tell you what it was about, and when you asked he just said it was a suprise.

you were about to assume the worst, till he came home with a long, tied up cord of red rope hanging out of his bag, and peered at you excitedly.

it was a face you were very familiar with, a pleased, almost shy smile lit up his face as he greeted you, before taking your hand and coaxing you into the bedroom.

he told you he has been going to shibari classes for his streams, and he wants to play with you on live and show everyone what he learned.

you were hesitant at first, till you remembered, if he’s been taking classes for this long then he’s probably good, and you know for a fact minho, being the responsible dom he is, would never try something like this on you unless he was sure he was good.

so here you sat, all pretty in a lace black set, next to the intimidating bundles of shibari rope that’ll be restricting you soon, along with a few other selected toys. but it’s fine. you trust your boyfriend to do what’s best for you.

“alright..everything is all set up. are you sure you want to do this? it’s never too late to back out if you feel uncomfortable.”

“yeah! honestly..i was a little nervous, but now i’m getting pretty excited.”

“oh? is the pretty whore already messing up her new set? such a good girl, but does she remember her safewords?”

“uh huh!”

“go on then.”

“red means stop, yellow means pause and discuss, and green means keep going!”

“good girl! such a smart little thing aren’t you?”

the large webcam setup clicks on, revealing you and minho in the reflection. the familiar system of the camsite focuses you as minho hovers over the livecam button.

“we are live in 3..2..1!”

minho sits on the bed next you, prettily fixing up his hair and taking on a serious look in his eyes, before cheerfully saying his intro as viewers flood and start commenting.

bbok.flx: omg i was first ㅜㅜ that’s a bit embarrassing..

j.onee: i had this stream time on an alarm bro

“hello everyone, you’ve just joined lee know’s weekly sexual education stream..”

you giggled to yourself, you knew lee know was just an online alias, but it was still such a cute name for an intimidating man like your minho.

“if you’re new here, i’m lee know. i work as a professional dom, and this is my little demonstration doll right here next to our topic object tonight.”

minho moved behind you, stroking his hands over your soft body to show you off. you relax in his touch, fluttering your lashes to the camera in front of you.

“there she is. isn’t she pretty? god..look at that, this whore is already wet for all of you.”

the chat moves faster, reading all of these filthy comments about you works you up even further. a few even make you laugh a bit.

fck_hyune: i love seeing her tits. the things i would do to a girl like that ughh

j.onee: i should be her god THIS ISNT FAIR.

minho cracks a loud slap to your thigh, before picking up the rope and unwravelling it slowly, making a bit of a show for the audience. he holds it up to the camera, sliding it between his hands like a pet.

“that’s right, the lesson starting tonight is bondage. i will be teaching you how to safely execute shibari ties on a submissive. this is only lesson one of this subject, so i will only demonstrate one full tie for you this stream.”

minho reads a few comments, then bites his lip, smiling devilishly.

cbbang97: cute rope lee know, but we all know who the real slut is~

he sighs before placing his hands on your shoulders and leaning down to rest his head on you, arching his back a bit behind you so the chat can see his pretty hips and gorgeous thick thighs you and the audience fantasize about.

“excited? i can feel you squirming behind your screens, but you all know the rules. i’ll only go through with the lesson if you pay the fuck up, hm? i want three hundered in donations right now, or i’ll just end the stream now and leave this slut untouched.

minho commands the chat, and you know he isn’t bluffing either. you rub your thighs together and smile when donations start to flood in. but only 105 dollars? that isn’t enough for minho.

“tch. really? you expect to excite me with that pitiful amount? seriously, pay it or i’m done.”

j.onee: SOMEONE PLZ PAY SERIOUSLY IM BROKE AS FUCK

bbok.flx: hehe i got u one sec ^o^

minho cuts his eyes at the camera, tapping his finger impatiently, before looking pleased at the large donation of 300 on its own. that’s more than what he asked for, and he swears he can feel his cock growing in his pants at the sound of the donation ring.

“good job. all of you are being so good for me, follwing directions, want this lesson now as a reward? let’s begin with a chest harness.”

minho sits behind you, he pets your hair sweetly, spreading the rope out in his hand. he sticks his tongue out obscenely before licking up the rope, his dark eyes never leaving the camera.

“start with your rope doubled by looping it in your fingers, then simply wrap it around the submissive, just under their chest.”

he follows his words expertly sliding the looped rope under your boobs, he does it slowly though, making sure he doesn’t hurt you.

“loop the end through the back, then repeat again.”

his words aren’t loud or aggressive, yet you’re sure they could make a mountain move. you say nothing and keep still, letting whatever pretty commands he makes flow out of his mouth. you swear you’d serve him for the rest of your life, your sweet love.

. . .

as the ties and teachings go on for a while, you feel yourself slipping into a familiar, euphoric headspace and the feeling of the restricting rope over your shoulders and breasts, down to your tied up wrists behind your back.

he occasionally answers questions in chat about parts of the knots, or ask you your color.even though it took a long time, you feel like it was over too soon as he tightens the final knot over your ribcage. despite streaming porn, he still leans down and kisses your head sweetly, checking on you.

“feel good? is anything too tight? just say the word and ill comepletely untie it.”

“it feels so good, min-“

he quickly puts a finger up to his mouth, reminding you to not say his real name.

“ah! sorry! it feels fine, lee know.

minho smiles and kisses your cheek, before moving up to sit in front of the camera to show you off.

“this is what the harness should look like when it’s completed. did you follow along? im sure you did such a good job. you always do, y’know?”

j.onee: it would be better if u did it on me instead food for thought

ppup_m1nnie: j.one a simp fr

cbinniwh0re: hes not letting you hit bro

j.onee: SHUT UP

“silly things. getting impatient? should we move on to the fun part of the stream?”

the chat moves at a crazy speed. a few eager viewers have already donated and sent requests, but minho already knows what he wants to do today.

minho adjust you to sit center in front of the camera. he picks up two toys to play with, and holds them to the camera. letting chat decide what he’ll use on your restricted form first.

in his left hand, he holds a pretty clit sucker with purple accents. in his right, he holds a black riding crop with a red heart.

“i’ll be nice and give you a choice today, hm? say A if you wanna see me use this clit sucker on her pretty pussy before i fuck her brains out, or B if you want me to mark her ass red with the crop. choose wisely between pleasure or pain.”

ppup_m1nnie: B

cbbang97: B for sure

bbok.flx: srry but B would be so hot god

j.onee: A PLS OMG

ppup_m1nnie: …

ppup_m1nnie: block j.one

j.onee: BRUH

“hm..looks like B is the winner. you wanna see her suffer that bad, huh?”

minho places the clit sucker on his bedside for later use. he sits back behind you, putting his hand over your eyes and dragging the smooth leather of the crop along your back.

his jaw drops with yours in faux arousal, imagining how you must feel. he takes his hand off your eyes and pushes you face down on the bed. he feels your pretty ass in his hands, you know he loves your ass.

minho stops teasing and lets the crop crack down on your ass for the first time. you yelp loud like a puppy, flinching at the sting. it hurts, but the first time only makes you wanna feel more. you swallow and relax your bdoy for him, waiting for his next strike.

“color?”

“green.”

“i love you.”

“i know. i love you too, min-“

the next hit lands right after your sentence. this one feels like fire, it ignites with pain but burns like pleasure through your dripping cunt.

“what’s my name?”

“mm’fuck..lee know?”

“wrong.”

minho pulls you up by a firm grip on the ropes tied around your arms, his mouth right next to your ear. you squirm in the ropes uselessly in his grasp.

“what’s my name, whore.

“lee know! it’s lee know!”

this time it’s his hand that corrects you, spanking you once with a harder force than the crop. he moves you closer by your neck slightly, pressing your red ass against his bulge, wetting the fabric.

“if you keep getting it wrong i’ll just keep hurting you. you know what i wanna hear from that dirty mouth, slut. you’re doing this to yourself.”

you can barely respond. his words alone have your mind fuzzy and dumb for him already, and his cock isn’t even in you yet.

“answer me. i won’t ask you again.”

you’re quickly woken up from your daze when minho lets go of you and drops you down on the bed. the ropes on your arms make you fall directly on your chest, ending with a painful hit with the crop. this one hurt the most, but it also had you crying out in pleasure for your dom.

“sir! sir- that’s your fucking name, sir..fucking feels so good..”

“ah, so you do know how to use your words.”

“please..need your big cock s’bad, sir..”

you grind your hips down on his bulge desperately as more begs spill from your lips.

“well, you know the rules. if they wanna see that, they have to give me their fucking money.”

minho grinds himself back on your pussy, letting out a few shaky breaths at the feeling of the tension in his pants being slightly relieved. he looks at the camera with a slutty expression on his face.

“fuck..you all have been so good, i think you deserve a reward. wanna see me fuck this bitch into the mattress?”

fck_hyune: god fuck yes

j.onee: fucking a dildo rn thinking of you

j.onee: wish it was your fucking cock pounding me instead while i eat her out

bbok.flx: realest take ive ever heard

i.yen.01: i wish i was HIM. her little noises are so cute jsndbn

“seems like a yes. you all know the drill, get the donations up to eight hundered and this cock is all yours.”

minho flips you over on your back restraints and unzips his pants, he makes a show out of pulling his dripping cock out of his boxers. he’s always been big, that attitude he has isn’t for nothing. he bats his lashes at the camera, while circling his thick, pink tip with his thumb.

he dips his thumb into his slit and lets out a faint moan at the feeling. he chuckles shyly at the noise he made and teases his chat.

“ah..look at it fucking dripping..this is what you paid for.”

fck_hyune: im so broke now but ts is worth every penny so far

cbinniwh0re: hey who says i need to pay rent

j.onee: fuckk i need that fucking cock in my mouth noww ur streams are torture.

minho looks down at you, he moves the hair out of your face and circles his hand soothingly along the small of your back.

“still okay, sweet girl? ropes good?”

you arch your back and squirm your arms to show him that the ropes are secure and not too tight.

“hm. okay. color?”

“green, jus’ want your cock.”

you pout. minho hums and running his cock through your folds, collecting the wetness on his tip and jerking it softly. he runs his finger up a vein and throbs around nothing till more precum drips down his cock.

all you can hear are the obscene sounds of him jerking his wet cock and letting out soft airy moans. it torture. you just want him inside you, but the ropes leave you helpless and pliant as you just whine impatiently at his sounds.

without warning, he spreads you open and slides his cock inside, forcing more in with short, forceful thrusts. he circles his hips inside you slowly once he’s all the way in.

“fuck! sir, yes! so fucking big.. mmplease fuck me please i’m such a good girl-“

minho shoves your head down into the pillows and grabs something off the counter. you feel something attach to your clit and start sucking it roughly. the clit sucker from earlier. it’s too much. you squirm your hips around, but all that does is work minho inside you deeper.

“if you’re such a good girl, then fucking take it.”

minho graps the ropes on your wrists as leverage to pull you back on his cock over and over. he just started moving and he’s already pounding the shit out of you. the double stimulation of the suction on your clit and the cock rubbing along your g-spot, already has you close.

“ah! fuck! fuckfuckfuck sir don’t fucking stop please..”

“gonna cum already? go ahead but im not stopping till i cum.”

he reaches under you and clicks the clit sucker into a higher setting that has you squirting around his cock in seconds. your eyes roll back as your thighs tremble and drip from your intense orgasm.

minho takes the clit sucker off of your puffy, wet clit and leans forward, he places his hands on either sides of your waist and fucks into you roughly. pounding your pussy just the way you like.

your brain is absolute mush. you’ve never cum that quickly before in your life, and he won’t stop.

“you like that huh? like being my little fucktoy on livestream? want everyone to see your little pussy leak my cum everywhere?”

“yes! fuck yes, pleaseplease- mark me, claim my fucking cunt, sir..”

“okay. just for you..fuck, i’m gonna cum..”

with a few more satisfying thrusts and he’s spilling inside you. rutting out his orgasm inside you and placing sweet kisses down your back.

“sweet girl..milking my cock. keep all my fucking cum, you earned it. such a good girl.”

minho pulls out, you’re about to protest till you feel something else sliding inside you. minho places a pretty, red plug in your pussy, keeping all his cum inside you.

“shh. you can rest for a second while i wrap up stream, okay? i love you.”

“i know, i love you too. minho.” you whisper.

. . .

“so! did you all enjoy the stream? did you get to cum too? i hope so.”

j.onee: i don’t think i’ve ever cum so hard in my life

fck_hyune: ..i don’t know which of you i’d rather be honestly

“im glad you did, but! it’s time to say goodbye. don’t be sad though. the next stream is in a week anyway so stay tuned. say bye bye!”

bbok.flx: awe bye bye ;(

cbinniwh0re: byebye silly

cbbang97: ill miss youuuuu

ppup_m1nnie: bye yall

j.onee: ILY SEE U IN A WEEK

ppup_m1nnie: glazer

“hm, see you soon, j.one.”

j.onee: OH MY GOD

ppup_m1nnie: oh shit

taglist: @estella-novella @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @theresstardustinmyblood @annafeebou @pancake-freckle @elizalabs3 @minniesverse @loxgirl2004 @mintymintmint251 @y-ur--i @liv1sworld

pink=didnt work