#sergeant kink

[braveclementine]

Chapter 31

Warnings: 18+readersonly, Sergeant kink, Captain kink, uniform sex, pet names, roleplay, mxm smut

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own a few OCs like Elizabeth, Katherine, Stacy, and Jessie. I do not condone any copying of this.

"What are you looking for?" You asked, coming upon Bucky who was in the attic, looking through cardboard boxes that hadn't been unpacked yet. Either because they contained holiday decorations or because they were filled with people's personal knick-knacks that didn't quite fit anywhere in the house.

"Something to make Steve happy." Bucky grunted, shifting Fury's box up on top of Clint's, pulling out his own box.

"Why is he so upset?" You questioned. Steve had been rather upset after the news. It had been a week after the Supreme Court decision and something was clearly eating at your Captain.

Bucky sighed, "He's torn between doing what's right for the country and then realizing that there's nothing he can actually do. This isn't a physical fight where he picks up his shield, knocks a few bad guys heads off, and we call it a win. This is a political decision, written in law form. He can't do anything for that. Not to mention, he's also more worried about protecting you and his family than others. Family will always come first for him, so it's kind've tearing him in two."

"The thing is. . ." You said hesitantly, chewing on your bottom lip. "It's male to female partner. And most people only have one or two soulmates. Most couples have more children than that anyways. So what's the big deal about the law?"

Bucky shrugged, "When you put it like that, it doesn't seem really like anything at all. I think what's really eating at Stevie is the fact that it's corrupting people's freedom to decide how many kids they want."

"Yes, that does make sense. But America, China, North Korea, Italy, Germany, and a handful of countries in Africa are the only ones that have passed the laws so far." You said. "If it really upsets people that much, there are still quite a few countries to choose from. France for one said they were never going to make that a law. And so did Japan."

"Here we go." Bucky said, yanking out a uniform. It was pressed, crisp, and clean, but definitely aged.

"Is that your old sergeant uniform?" You asked, all thoughts of political ideas going out your head at the thought of Bucky in his uniform. You'd see pictures of course, but that was when his hair was cropped and short.

"Yes it is doll. Sam's gettin' his military outfit too. Gonna surprise Stevie. He loves when we wear the uniforms."

"So. . . roleplay?" You asked, curiously.

"Nah, we don't really do that." Bucky said, shoving the box back where it belonged, gathering up the rough fabric and cap in his arm. You walked alongside him as you exited the attic. "It's just uniform sex really."

He glanced over at you and you just smiled. "Hopefully that will cheer Stevie up then."

Bucky suddenly got a grin on his face, "Come with me doll."

You followed, wondering what Bucky was up to. You two passed Sam in the hallway. "Here, can you take this back to the room for me? I'm getting something for Y/N over here."

Sam grinned, taking the uniform from Bucky. Sam was already in his uniform, which was a black sort of camo print. It was complete with his black boots, gloves, and shoulder pards. He looked rather dashing and if Bucky was going to look anything like that you might just have an orgasm from looking at them.

Sam walked back down the hall and you hurried after Bucky again, "Where exactly are we going?"

"Right here." Bucky said, opening up one of the doors, which led into another room that you honestly just hadn't explored yet.

"What is this room?" You asked, slightly skeptical and apprehensive, looking at all the costumes that were around you.

"Wanda has been teaching Elizabeth had to create costumes and clothing from just fabric, needle, and thread." Bucky explained. Apparently he had been here often or something because he seemed to know exactly where he was going, "Most of this is Wandas, but Pietro and Hogun like roleplay and Elizabeth likes to create so there we go."

You blushed a little. You'd never done roleplay with any of them. You felt that you would die of embarrassment if you tried to act while having sex. Leave that the actors and actresses on TV.

"Anyways I actually asked her to make this for you." Bucky said, finally pulling out what looked like a very old, vintage poster type nurse outfit.

"That's for me?" You asked, raising your eyebrows.

"I figured eventually you might join us." Bucky said, grinning, though you could see the worry in his eyes. "Thought this would be cute."

"Can I try it on first before I show up to your room, in case it looks bad, ya know?" You asked, blushing. You were actually kind've excited.

The thought of looking cute and also from a time period that Steve loved best was enticing. You really did want to make him feel better and you were also kind've excited to see how the outfit looked on you.

[Minus stockings and shoes. I know it's not the sexiest costume, but it was supposed to be more 1940s. It's sexier to Steve because of the time period, not if the skirt is so high your ass shows].

"I really like it Bucky." You said, grinning as you stepped over to show him. His eyes darkened slightly.

"I'm gonna have to thank Elizabeth again." His voice was husky, wrapping an arm around you. "You look adorable doll."

You grinned before fixing the hat on your head, "I kind've feel like it's going to fall off."

"Don't worry, it won't." Bucky grinned. "Now, c'mon. We want to get back to the room before Steve, don't we?"

You and Bucky quickly hurried out of the room- though Bucky left a note for Elizabeth to let her know we stole the outfit. Apparently she got very moody when stuff was rearranged or taken without her notice. She had a slight OCD problem and pet peeves about her stuff.

Needless to say, the two of you got back to the room before Steve. Sam was waiting, standing by the window, leaning out. "He's not back yet."

"Where did he go?" You asked, making Sam turn around. He started to grin as he looked at you.

"He's walking Ginny. He loves that dog." Sam said.

"Maybe we'll get another puppy." You said thoughtfully. "I think Fury feels outnumbered with the kittens."

Bucky grinned before he undressed. You and Sam talked while he got dressed in the Sergeant uniform. You were a bit nervous, knowing he was going to look absolutely delicious.

You swallowed hard when you came face to face with Bucky. He looked so absolutely delicious. The only difference between him now and before was the long, shoulder length hair. But he still managed to get that cap perched jauntily on his head.

"You broke her Buckaroo." Sam grinned before kissing Bucky's cheek. "She's stunned."

"It's only revenge." Bucky said, shrugging his shoulders as he grinned, "She broke me for a moment when she put on that nurse uniform."

You finally said, "You look dashing Buck."

"Is that right?" He grinned, one hand placed firmly on the wall behind you, the other hand wrapping around your waist. "Well you look so innocent in that lil' nurse outfit. I can't wait to rip it off of you and ruin you."

"Elizabeth will kill you." Sam stated simply behind him while you felt yourself getting wet at his words.

"That's true." Bucky said seriously, "And I don't fancy facing her ice storms."

He winked at you before kissing you.

"Captain Rogers is home Mr. Wilson." F.R.I.D.A.Y. said suddenly.

"She's not going to record this, right?" You hissed at Bucky, suddenly realizing just how many times with just how many people in just how many rooms you'd had sex. F.R.I.D.A.Y could've recorded any number of them- video and audio.

You were going to have to speak to Tony.

But after you had amazing sex with your soldier boys.

You laid down in the middle of the bed, Bucky sitting behind you so that your head lay in his lap. Sam was laying on his side next to you, lightly running his fingers up and down your arm.

You could feel a coil of anticipation in your stomach. What if he didn't like it? What if he only wanted it to be a thing between the three of them? What if he wasn't in the mood for any of you and Sam and Bucky got hurt feelings?

"So anxious doll." Bucky mumbled into your hair, "What's wrong?"

"Just worried I could be intruding." you mumbled, feeling slightly self-conscious now. "Or that he won't be in the mood and will hurt your guys' feelings too."

Bucky chuckled, "Believe me doll, even if he's not in the mood at this moment, he will be once he steps through that door. He can't resist the uniforms."

You could hear heavy footsteps now walking down the somewhat quiet hallway. You heard his open the door and Steve stepped through it.

He looked absolutely worn out and frustrated. He stopped completely upon seeing the three of you in his bed.

The exhausted expression on his face lightened, a smirk curving at his lips. He slammed the door shut, stalking towards the bed, "F.R.I.D.A.Y. lock and soundproof the door and room." Steve commanded and his voice was already dripping with so much dominance, you shivered a little.

You could hear the sounds of the door locking while a faint sheen moved across the walls, sound-proofing the room just as Steve asked.

Steve's eyes trailed over all three of you before landing on you. "You look stunning baby. Come here."

You quickly moved away from Bucky and Sam, feet hitting the floor. Steve drew an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a hungry kiss. You fingers carded into his hair as he leaned you back a little, deepening the kiss.

Steve pulled away from your lips, attacking your neck with sharp, sweet bites, leaving hickies everywhere he could reach.

"Leave us some room." Sam joked, still on the bed.

Steve huffed, pulling away from your neck. "On your knees cookie."

You dropped immediately, knees hitting the white carpet. You weren't wearing knickers- as they would've been easily seen through the white fabric of the nurse uniform- and you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, staring up at Steve.

"Buck, Sam, get over here now."

They both complied rather quickly, standing on either side of you. Steve unbuckled his pants, letting them drop as he kicked them away. You could see the huge bulge against his black boxers, eyeing it like a prize.

Steve took your chin into his hand. "Go on."

You pulled his boxers down, releasing the delicious appendage, before taking him into your mouth.

"Good girl." Steve praised, butterflies dancing in your stomach. "Buck, you know what to do."

You could sense Bucky moving around behind you, but you weren't entirely sure what he was doing until you felt hot breath fan across your pussy. Then you felt his tongue lick through your folds and he groaned, vibrations shot straight to your clit.

You groaned as well, taking as much as Steve as you could, one hand bracing against his thigh as Bucky continued to eat you out, the other moving to massage his balls, want to help him release as fast as possible and not draw it out.

Sam stood to the side, growing more and more needy, keeping his mouth shut.

"Is there a problem Sammy?" Steve asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"No Captain." Sam muttered darkly.

Your giggled at Sam's sullenness was muffled by Steve's cock. Steve threw his head back, groaning as your vibrations sent tingles through his entire body. His hands grasped your hair, his hips lightly thrusting as he started to take control. You went with it. Today was all about Stevie.

Bucky sped up his ministrations on your pussy, holding your hips down so that he had better access. This gave a wonderful angle for Steve to just plunge his dick down your throat.

You were a mess, knot forming in your stomach, whining around Steve's cock. Your nails dug into his thighs as your orgasm approached, trying not to stop your tongue from delivering Steve his pleasure while yours approached.

"Look at me doll." Steve demanded. Your eyes snapped upwards, meeting his and you felt his cock twitch inside your mouth. You gave it a good suck, releasing all over Bucky's face with a mewl. Steve kept his gaze on you, knowing he wasn't going to last long with those innocent E/C eyes staring up at him while performing such a wonderful dirty deed.

Indeed, almost seconds after Bucky finished lapping up your essence and moving out from underneath you- almost making you collapse from a sudden lack of support- Steve released inside your throat. You swallowed the hot salty cum before pulling off Steve's dick.

He immediately yanked you to your feet, smashing his lips to yours. When he pulled apart, he commanded in a deep whisper, "Go kiss Buck now."

You sauntered over to Bucky, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. He moaned, gripping you tightly with his metal and flesh arms.

Sam let a whine slip from his throat and You and Bucky broke apart. Steve stalked over to Sam, "There a problem?"

Sam shifted on his feet. "C'mon, Stevie. I want to join in."

"Do you know why I'm not letting you join in?" Steve asked.

"Because I spoke out of turn." Sam replied.

"Damn straight." Steve said. "Are you going to do it again?"

"No Captain." Sam said quickly.

"Strip. Not you Y/N." Steve said, coming over to you as Bucky and Sam quickly started getting rid of their uniforms. "How 'bout you help Bucky out with his uniform, hmm cookie?"

"Yes Captain." You whispered, reaching out and started untying Bucky's olive green tie, before drawing it away from his neck. Unbuttoning his undershirt as he got rid of the top jacket, belt, and started to undo his dress pants. Once he was fully naked, you stepped back, waiting for Steve who was helping Bucky out.

All three of them were completely naked, and the only thing you were missing was your nurse hat, though you weren't sure when you had lost it.

"On the bed sweetheart." Steve said and you quickly got back up on the bed, the other three surrounding you. Steve knelt in front of you, unbuttoning the nurse uniform, turning to Bucky, "This one of Elizabeth's?"

"Yes, don't rip it. She'll turn us into ice cubes." Bucky replied.

Steve sighed, "Pity. I wanted to rip it off her delicate body." He lifted the nurse outfit up over your head, kissing you on the lips. "But I guess you'll be able to wear it again now."

You grinned. "That's the plan. I think."

Steve slapped your ass gently, but firmly. "Hands and knees sweetheart."

You did as asked.

"How about you suck Sammy off while Buck and I take care of you over here." Steve asked, running two fingers through your sopping folds. He chuckled, "So wet sweetheart."

You opened your mouth as Sam knelt in front of you. He placed his large hands calmly on either side of your face, kissing you on the forehead. "Gonna treat you good baby."

You could feel the bed dipping down and around as Steve and Bucky figured out who was going where, doing what. Finally, you found Steve sliding under you, pulling your hips down slightly. He moved his cock through your folds before pushing in.

You moaned around Sam's cock, feeling completely blissed at the moment. Bucky's metal fingers gently started scissoring your ass as he prepared to take it. It was gentle motions and after so many months, it was getting less and less painful each time.

Sam was getting close, you could tell with the way that his long length was twitching in your mouth.

"Pull off Sammy." Steve demanded, reaching up to cup your throat. You quickly pulled off, trying not to give Sam any more pleasure while doing so.

Sam looked like he wanted to curse Steve out, but held his tongue, looking slightly annoyed. Steve pulled you down to kiss you, lifting your ass a little bit before Bucky pushed into you from behind.

"Oh fuck!" You gasped against Steve's lips, nipping his bottom lip a little. Steve continued to rut up into you while Bucky moved slowly in and out of your ass. Sam was clutching his thighs in his hands, trying his damned hardest not to start stroking himself. You looked like a fucking angel to him and his boys looked so damn good.

His mouth got him in trouble a lot in bed and he always wished he could remember the punishment before he moved his mouth.

Steve left large hickies all over the front of your chest, just adding to the purple bruise like spots on your neck. You could feel Bucky pressing startling soft kisses to your back.

"Fuck, Captain, Sergeant! I'm gonna cum. Please can I cum?" You begged, squeezing tightly around Steve's cock as you both tried to stall and please Steve at the same time.

"Fuck sweetheart." Steve groaned, hands running all over your body as he rutted his hips up to grind against you, "That's it cookie. Cum all over my cock. Show me you're my little whore."

His words were all it took to release all over his cock, one of your best orgasms ever really.

Steve thrusted even faster, working you through your orgasm while Bucky chased his own release. The pleasure and complete fullness was overwhelming and delicious. Steve finally shot up inside of you, making you mewl when he bit down on your shoulder- gently.

Bucky grunted, pulling you upwards as Steve slipped out of you, now pounding into you from behind as he held you in his arms. "Sarg!" You gasped as he twisted your nipples between his fingers.

"Let go for me doll. Show 'em I can fucking ruin you without even giving you anything to ruin you with."

Bucky's words were growled and dark as he thrusted harshly upwards, releasing into your ass while you let go, coming for a second time, without anything to clench down upon.

Bucky chuckled as he pulled out slowly, kissing your neck.

Sam was even harder than before, watching his boys completely ruin you while he wasn't allowed to touch you. He could, of course, get you alone without the other two, though his punishment would be worse if they found out he'd fucked you without them.

It might be worth it though.

"Sam." Steve said.

"Yes Cap?"

"You've been doing pretty good now." Steve complimented, "What do you want to do with her?"

Sam grinned, "Wanna overstimulate her."

A slow smile started moving over Bucky's face too and you shivered in anticipation.

Steve looked at Bucky, "You know what to get."

Bucky moved off the bed, going over to the closet, kneeling to pull out a box on the floor.

"Look at me cookie." Steve demanded and you quickly turned to look at him. He pulled you into another kiss, before you felt the bed dip again, lots of cold metal being placed on your stomach, making you shiver.

"If you're not okay with anything, you tell us, okay baby?" Sam cooed, running his hands up your legs. "And if you feel somethings to much or you want to stop, you use the word 'time'."

You nodded, feeling medium sized rope being looped around your wrists as Bucky tied them together, before tying them up and around the headboard of the bed.

Steve took fabric from your side, tying it gently behind your head.

You heard metal clinking, before there was a pressure on your nipples, making you gasp at the sudden sensation.

"How are you doing baby?" Bucky asked, tugging the nipple clamps a little bit.

"Good." You murmured, both turned on, excited, but also a little nervous.

"Well, go on Sam." Steve smirked. You could feel Steve moving so that he had settled behind you slightly. He ran his hands up and down your sides, a comfort, before you felt Sam push into your pussy.

"Fuck." Sam groaned sensually, tossing his head back as he felt your warmth encase his pulsing cock. "You feel so good sugar."

You felt a metal and flesh hand on your hips now, someone straddling you slightly, situating themselves lightly below your breasts.

The metal and flesh hands moved to push your breasts together and you could feel someone's cock- most likely Bucky by the metal hand- between them.

"Fuck doll." Bucky drawled. "I'm gonna fuck these perfect tits."

You whined, wishing you could see Bucky as he started to massage your breasts, thrusting his hips lightly. Steve's hands rubbed circles on your shoulders and Steve's touch brought you back to reality. "Wait."

Bucky and Sam stilled, but didn't pull away as you hadn't used the safe word.

"Something wrong cookie?" Steve's voice had a hint of worry in it.

"No, but I thought. . . thought today was all about Stevie. Making sure you're okay." You mumbled, tilting your head back as though you could see him through the blindfold. "Want to please you Captain."

Both Bucky and Sam started moving inside of you again so you assumed Steve had told them to resume nonverbally.

"Letting me do whatever I want to you is pleasing me." Steve purred lowly in your ear before both Bucky and Sam started to speed up, making you moan. You could feel every sensation now with your eyesight gone.

The tickle of Sam's beard whenever he bent low, brushing against your stomach. Steve's hair tickling around your ear as he whispered against your shoulder. The callouses on all of their hands- minus the cool smoothness of Bucky's metal hand- as they touched you. How Sam's cock felt inside your cunt as he split you apart. How smooth and wet Bucky's felt as he fucked your breasts. The weird, but pleasing sensation of your breasts being squeezed and pushed together.

How the knot was building up in your stomach, the way that it was making your toes curl and you strained against your bonds as you tried to pull away.

"Fuck! Sammy, gonna cum!"

Sammy quickly sped up, reaching over and you could hear him getting something else. "FUCK!" You moaned as you released all over his cock.

"Good job sweetheart." Steve murmured in your ear. "Gonna let you see now."

He undid the black cloth, letting it fall over on the side of the bed. You could now see Bucky in front of you and you dipped your head, opening your mouth. As he pushed upwards, you flicked your tongue out, making Bucky groan at the teasing of his slit. A few more of these and he came all over your face, in your mouth, and on your breasts.

"You look beautiful doll." Bucky teased, grabbing a cloth to wipe away semen from around your eyes, but left everything else messy.

He moved off and you could now see what Sam had in his hands- which were some sort of beads on a rope. They started out small before getting larger and larger.

"You want to try those out?" Steve asked in his ear.

"What are they?" You asked curiously.

Sam chuckled, "Oh you're so innocent babe. They're anal beads."

You assumed they were exactly as they sounded. Beads that would go into your ass.

"I would like to try them." You said shyly.

Steve kissed the top of your head, "Remember your stop word, alright?"

You simply nodded, not wanting to actually say it aloud in case they took it as a sign that you wanted to stop.

"Good girl." Bucky murmured before he flipped you over so that you were on your stomach now. Your hands were still tied to the bed, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Although you could feel a slight contrast of your nipples against the bedsheets, as they were still clamped.

"Gonna tell us when to stop." Bucky murmured, petting your hair back as Sam pushed the first ball in.

It really didn't hurt and it even felt good in a weird way. There was a type of fullness that came with it, especially the bigger the balls got. Finally, it got to a point where the last one you had taken was just slightly to big and you weren't sure you could take another. "That's good." You said.

Sam laughed, "That was the last one baby."

"Oh."

Steve chuckled, kissing your cheek. "Such a good girl for us, hmm?"

"For you, mhmm." You nodded, looking up at him through your long lashes. It made his heart flutter when you looked at him like that, especially with your ass in the air, the pink handle to pull the beads out sticking out a bit. The metal underneath you, your nipples a lovely pink colour. Your pussy dripping for him and his boys. It looked as though the last thing to use on you was. . . a vibrator. Sam really was going all out tonight.

"Want the honors Stevie?" Sam asked, holding the silver and blue vibrator out to him, moving to kneel in front of you, bringing you just slightly upwards so that your elbows were resting on his thighs. This alleviated some of the pain in your breasts, though it kept you in a position where your pussy was presented to Bucky and Steve beautifully.

"My pleasure." Steve said, moving to angle himself just right, pushing into you. You moaned, shivers going down your spine. His hand moved to wrap around your waist before you heard buzzing and immediately jolted when he touched the vibrator to your clit.

You squirmed, moaned, mewled, and came over and over again as Steve and Bucky took turns fucking you relentlessly, rarely removing the vibrator as they did so. You were starting to go high up into the clouds, as you came again, toes curling. Sam simply held your upper body, occasionally pulling on the nipple clamps.

Nearing the last orgasm of the night- afternoon? Morning?- He unclipped them and you uttered a tiny scream as the blood rushed back to the sensitive nubs. You completely collapsed into Sam's arms while the other two finished riding you out.

You could just barely feel Bucky pulling out while Steve gently removed the beads. Bucky headed to the bathroom and Steve untied your hands before rolling you onto your back to face him.

His face was flush, his hair a mess, and there was a cheeky grin on his face. "How are you holding up sweetheart?"

"Good Stevie." You mumbled, voice hoarse from screaming all of their titles over and over again, with a handful of curse words mixed in.

Steve kissed your forehead, taking the washcloth from Bucky. "How 'bout we all go and take a bath together, hmm?"

You just closed your eyes, tired, giving a small nod. Sam picked you up and carried you over to the bathtub. The four of you took a nice bath, before climbing back into bed, and promptly falling asleep. 

[captainfern]

Just dreaming of Gaz with a breeding kink because I want that man's babies plz.

wrote this with my pussy ngl

fem!reader x gaz, 18+

kyle’s hands wandered. trekking across the hills and plains of your body, committing the cartography to his mind. he liked to feel the warmth beneath your skin, the way the fat of your legs moved so pliantly beneath the pads of his fingers.

he liked trailing his fingers downwards, too. further down from the mounds of your kiss-swollen breasts and the softness of your belly. down, down, his own personal odyssey— except it wasn’t a decent into the underworld. it wasn’t hell he was after.

it was your pussy— glistening and slick, warm and fluttering as his eyes raked across it. across her.

the closest he could get to heaven, he often thought when his dick was painfully hard and his head was swimming with thoughts of you.

two thick fingers rubbed up and down the puffy folds of your cunt, smearing the slick. he cooed, gentle and coaxing, voice thick with the taste of cigarette smoke and mint. you knew it tasted like that since he’d had his tongue down your throat for the precious ten minutes.

now, he circled the calloused pad of his thumb across your puffy clit. he did so periodically, still stroking your pussy with two skilled fingers, up and down, spreading you apart—

as he pushed his cock into you.

whispered praise and soft coos, gaz talked you and your pussy through it. mainly her, you noted with the slightest twang of jealousy appearing in the darkest depth of your stomach. but you knew there was no point in being jealous. she and you were the same, after all.

“look at how my girl takes me,” gaz muttered, fingers splitting into a peace-sign to straddle the girth of his cock, rubbing along the stretched entrance of your cunt. he smoothed slick across himself as he edged inside. he hummed, pleased at the sight of your drooling pussy stretching wide to accommodate him. “such a sweet girl. bet she’s really looking forward to me breeding her, eh?”

that, combined with the stretch, made you moan. your hands fisted the sheets of your bed, thighs quivering against his hips. gaz, smiling now, looked up from your cunt and peered at you, eyes glassy.

“oh, i know, my pretty girl, i know,” gaz whispered, pushing the rest of his cock inside you. bottoming out, he expelled the air from your lungs and filled the base of your stomach with fizzing pleasure— a static that sat, settled, stagnated, only for it to start up when he dragged his cock out, then pushed back on.

you moaned again, and the two fingers he had on your cunt trailed upwards again. warm and wet, they pressed down onto your clit. he started rubbing slowly, eyes watching the way your facial expressions flickered from one to another.

he set a deep thrust within a hard rhythm. again and again and again, his cock moved inside you, punching up so deep. so perfectly deep, threatening to nudge the base of your cervix. your spine tingled, that fizzing pleasure carbonating your bloodstream. he was always, always so quick to get you off.

“i know,” gaz repeated as a low whimper dropped out from between your parted lips. “you want me to fill you up, don’t you? want me to breed you? breed this tight cunt, yeah?”

“mmmyeahhh—” it wasn’t exactly coherent, but you forced it out of your mouth with a bit of saliva gathering beneath the tip of your tongue.

gaz smiled down at you, the hand on your clit speeding up now. the circles he drew tightened, and you could really feel the callouses now— catching on the swollen bud with a kick of pleasure to the base of your tummy. your legs twitched, fat rippling, toes curling.

his free hand held him up half-over you. his lean muscles flexed and tensed as he rocked himself against you, cock shifting in and out. your slick dribbled out of you, soaking the inside of your thighs and the trimmed patch of hair at the base of gaz’s cock. you could smell it in the air, too.

“gaz,” you moaned out for him, tummy drawing tight. “gaz, please.”

“please, what?” he chastised, teeth flashing through the cockiness of his grin. he looked so hot that you couldn’t even be mad for the attitude.

you blew out a breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “please come inside me. want you to fill me up.”

“yeah?” he groaned, blood boiling hot with pleasure. his release was already sitting, waiting, in the very base of his stomach, balls twitching and ready to empty inside your perfect pussy. “want me to breed you? want me to pump you full of my kids?”

“yes!” you all but chanted, your own voice echoing around your head like the blast of a pipe organ in an empty cathedral. although, what you were doing was less than devout. “kyle, baby, please come inside me— fuck, fuck, fuck—!”

you came around his cock without much warning. the fizzing in your belly overflowed all of a sudden, bursting over the precipice of your climax and flooding through you. your body trembled, warming up. slick drooled out from the entrance of your cunt, the thrusts of his cock making a mess of your groin and thighs.

gaz groaned, screwing his eyes shut. he focused on the feel of your tight, wet cunt around the thick of his cock, and the way it squeezed him. he focused on the melodic whimpers and whines being strung out from your mouth, and the way your breathing had picked up. he focused on the image he had drawn in his head of you, his beautiful wife, pregnant with his kid, belly fat and round, tits huge—

“oh, fucking hell,” he moaned, dropping his head. “ah, fuck, f-fuck, baby, oh my fucking god— ‘m gonna come, ‘m gonna come.”

his thrusts were sloppy as he ran out of steam. but you could feel, in your blissed state, the throbbing of his cock, hot and ready inside you.

“take it all, baby,” gaz whined out. “need you to take it all, okay? need to breed you so bad. need to stuff this tight cunt full’a my babies. need to breed you an’ make you a mama—”

he came with a guttural groan and, like a good girl, you took it all.

he plugged his cock up as deep as he could get it, a tight bottoming out, as he emptied himself inside of you. you could almost feel it sloshing directly into your womb, and the thought had your cunt clench around his gently softening girth.

“gaz…” you mewled as he dropped his body weight on top of you, his mouth immensely resuming his earlier exploration, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin across your chest and breasts.

“if you’re gonna ask me to pull out, the answer is no,” he said jokingly, but his undertone was serious enough that it almost turned you on. maybe you had a problem. he nuzzled your throat. “gotta lay like this for ten minutes. let it soak in.”

“that’s… not how it works.”

“trust me,” he lifted his head to kiss your cheek lovingly. “i know how my pussy works.”

you rolled your eyes. “you mean my pussy.”

“i said what i said.”

[glossysoap]

….

[iceman-soup]

amab masc!reader x bot!price

Sure, he's your superior, but if Price gets you that hard whenever he calls you "sir," then who are you to deny him some role reversal?

And yeah, maybe you both realised it was a thing by accident, when he sarcastically said "yes, sir," just to be a little bitch, but the way you blushed and had to adjust your trousers certainly didn't go unnoticed, and it's not really his fault that he had to call you into his office later anyway. I mean, he could've avoided teasing you, calling you "sir" even then, but what's the fun in that?

Especially when it ended up with him pressed against the wall, one hand over his mouth to muffle his moans as you fuck him senseless, leaving hickeys high enough on his neck to be visible whatever he's wearing, pulling his hand away to hear his cute little begs and whimpers as he wanks himself off as best he can whilst you pound into him.

Breathing heavy when he calls you "captain," even though you're nowhere near that rank. His hole clenching around your dick, milking your cum from it and making him fall into you when you loosen your grip on him. Whining that he's not cum yet, pouting when you take his hands and pin them up against the wall again.

"Please, Captain, sir," he sobs, hips bucking against nothing, desperate for friction. When you reach a hand down, light touches to his cock to tease him, he cries out a far too loud "please," forcing you to shut him up with your mouth, sharing kisses as you move your hand up and down til he cums all over it, his teeth biting your lip as he moans out a final "sir," whimpering and leaning into you tiredly.

[voiceoffenrisulfr]

Bind

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Male Character (Yes, Greg's back)

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> Sheriff Barnes has heard about some unsavoury activity going down at a local saloon, and he goes to shut it down. But sometimes these things don't go quite to plan. Especially when smooth-talking boys get their way.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 3408

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (E) Prejudices of sex work, smut, punishment turns into sex, BDSM including restraint and impact play, loss of virginity, inexperienced sex with a very experienced lover, loss of virginity. Kind of dub-con vibes? But not? The consent is very enthusiastic.

𝐀/𝐍 -> Largely written for the Build-a-Bucky bingo, hosted by @buckybarnesevents! This was fun to write, and was... A bit different. I don't usually go so far into sadism, but it was interesting!

Prompts fulfilled: - ’AU: Wild West’, ‘Pet Names’, ‘Sleepy Sex’ – Build-a-Bucky Bingo (April), @buckybarnesevents - ‘Bind’ – Dick-or-Treat, - ‘Caning’ – @fandom-free-bingo (Frosty Edition), - “You Loved It.” and ‘Bondage’ – Fandom-Free Bingo (Flight Edition), - “It ain’t gonna suck itself.” – @anyfandomkink Bingo, - ‘Sex is Evil, and I Am Horny’ – @multifandom-flash – Taboo – 6047 - ‘Rough Sex’ – Multifandom Flash – New Year NSFW - ‘Too Kinky to Torture’ – Multifandom Flash – Halloween – 5037 - ‘Hickies’ – @sebastianstanbingo, - ‘Nice Ass’ – Sweetheart Bingo @sweetspicybingo.

Read it below or on AO3 here. Adorable divider by @jiyascepter! Cards at the end <3

Sheriff Barnes shouldered his way through the saloon doors, pale eyes casting around the space as silence descended quickly.

“You know why I’m here,” he noted, low voice carrying in the hushed room. “I’d gotten rid of their kind once already – and you, you bunch of heathens… You brought them back, didn’t you?”

Gazes lowered guiltily, avoiding the man striding slowly into the centre of the room. He cut an intimidating figure, despite the left arm absent from the shoulder down – his hand rested on the gun slung at his waist, and the scent of gunpowder and horse sweat hung around him like an aura.

Women swooned as he passed, but he paid them no mind – his attention was singularly focused on the bedraggled man behind the bar, rubbing nervously at the glass in his grasp with a dingy cloth. “Where is he?”

A trembling thumb jerked at the stairs behind him, throat bobbing nervously, and the Sherriff nodded curtly, rounding the weathered wood in silence.

The stairs creaked under the leather of his boots, footfalls steady and unfaltering. The hall at the top was dim and dank, punctuated by the sound of skin on skin and soft, rapturous gasps.

“Yes – just like that, oh my…”

Barnes curled his lip, drawing the pistol from its holster, the grip resting between index finger and thumb as he reached for the doorknob.

The odour of sex and debauchery in the room was almost overpowering, and the Sherriff raised his hand to his face automatically as he took in the scene before him.

The sight of a muscular backside tensing as it thrusted roughly made the Sherriff’s mouth run dry, jaw clenching. “Enough,” he growled, taking another step further into the room, gun half-raising in preparation.

“Can you come back in five minutes? We’re almost done here,” came a glib reply, the hint of an accent curling around the words, punctuated only subtly by the sharp breaths of its owner’s exertion, though the flexing buttocks remained unfaltering as he addressed the intruder. Barnes hissed distastefully, moving closer to grab the man by his shoulder and jerk him backwards.

The woman on all fours before him cut off her cacophonous cries of pleasure, scrabbling away to cover herself with the threadbare sheets. “Oi! Do you mind? I paid for an hour!”

The Sheriff turned his icy gaze to her, glaring hatefully, and realisation paled her features, sending her scrambling to her feet, scooping up her clothes as she fled the room.

The man simply settled back, reclining onto his hands with a frown, seemingly unabashed by his nudity – or the erection still resting against his abdomen, twitching subtly. “If you’re going to scare off my clientele, I hope you’re intending to step in a s substitute.”

Barnes curled his lip, diverting his gaze. “Get dressed. You’re coming back to the station. Maybe a few nights in a cell will cure you of this… Perversion.”

The man simply laughed in response, raising an eyebrow. “Can I at least deal with this myself first, if you’re not going to lend me a hand?” His fingers wrapped languidly around his length, a soft sigh falling between parted lips as the Sheriff narrowed his eyes.

“Stop that.”

“You seem awful- mm… A-Awful repressed, Sheriff… Maybe we could help each other out…” The man’s lids fluttered as he caressed himself more firmly, while Barnes’ fingers tightened around his gun, only the whitening of his knuckles betraying his unease.

“You have nothing I want,” he snapped, earning another laugh from the man on the bed.

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” He released himself with a gentle sigh, moving carefully to the end of the bed, his movements fluid and cautious, seemingly reluctant to scare away the prone lawman. “Have you ever been with a man, Sheriff? Ever been with someone who knows what men like?”

“I- No. I have- I had a betrothed. Not that it’s any business of yours,” he added scathingly, but his glare was less venomous, softening to something curious as he watched the man before him slide to his knees, gazing up at him with wide brown eyes.

“I bet the infamous Sheriff Barnes has never felt what it’s like to have his cock buried between a pair of pretty lips… It’s so warm and soft, Sir… Feels so good…” He’d gotten close to the Sheriff without the other man realising, licking his lips slowly. “I want to make you feel good… You work so hard for the community… You deserve a reward, don’t you?”

Barnes nodded weakly, enchanted, for just a moment, in spite of himself, as the man on his knees reached for his belt. Sense came at the feeling of his holster’s weight leaving his hips, and he snapped from his reverie with a growl, hand clenching in the other man’s hair to toss him to the floor. “Don’t you dare to touch me, whore,” he spat, standing stiffly over the sprawled, nude figure. “I’m not some common tart you can bewitch.”

“My name is Greg,” the man huffed, shifting upright, “and you can manhandle me all you like, Snowflake. I like it rough.”

The Sheriff’s jaw set, a gleam of something unknowable passing over his pale eyes, insulted by the play on his alias. He was known only as ‘Winter’ now – a pseudonym born in pain and blood through years of suffering, given to him to represent the coldness of his soul. Who was this boy to tease him? “Is that so?” he clarified softly, earning a stubborn nod from the man – Greg, it seemed. “Then perhaps I’ll opt for a more corporal form of punishment. Let’s see if I can’t made someone even as deviant as you scream.”

Greg’s eyes widened minutely, a flicker of uncertainty visible for just a heartbeat, but it passed quickly, replaced with the same cocky smirk. “Bring it on, Sheriff.”

Winter answered with a snarl and leant down, grasping the sprawled man by the throat and lifting him easily, tossing Greg carelessly onto the bed, his bare back exposed and shimmering with a  thin sheen of sweat. He had the good sense not to move as Barnes slowly rounded the room, the only motion coming from his gaze as he tracked the Sheriff, an edge of wariness in his eyes despite the excitement evident in the flush of his skin and the subtle trembling of his muscles. Winter hummed under his breath, standing directly in the other man’s eyeline as he unbuckled his belt. “You’re a whore.”

“And proud,” Greg replied evenly, unfaltering expression making Barnes’ lip curl.

“You disgust me,” the Sheriff sneered, the leather strap passing from his hips with a snap.

“Yet you seem awful eager to get your pants off,” Greg smirked. “Maybe you’re not quite as pure as y-”

The man interrupted himself with a grunt as the Sheriff’s buckle met his back, slicing readily into the skin. But he barely blinked, gaze steady on the man standing over him. “Are you finished?” Winter asked softly, the belt curled loosely in his hand. Greg simply smiled, seemingly unphased, and the Sheriff laughed – a low, dirty sound – and shook his head. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Been a while since anyone took a belt to me,” the sex worker replied with a shrug, stretching out his arms above his head, sighing luxuriously. “I’ve missed it.”

Winter weighed the buckle in his hand once more, humming thoughtfully, his eyes casting around the room for inspiration. It wasn’t until his gaze landed on the poker by the fireplace that it lit up, and he dropped the belt, leaving the leather forgotten where it lay as he armed himself with his new tool. “Perhaps this will bring a little more pain to your pleasure...” he murmured, fingers curling almost lovingly around the iron. Greg simply watched without reaction, save the subtle bob of his throat when the Sheriff drew back his arm.

The blow was enough to bruise almost immediately on impact, and the man yelped, fingers curling in the sheets. But Winter only smiled, laying strike after strike, until the smooth skin was a patchy network of black and blue, warm under the Sheriff’s touch as he trailed a palm over the beaten flesh.

Not once had Greg begged for mercy, his only sounds the occasional grunt or cry of pain, his muscles beginning to tremble at the effort of keeping himself upright. But the Sheriff’s hand on him brought out a soft sniff, and he raised his face from the sheets, splotchy and damp from tears, but his eyes no less determined and stubborn. “Why?” the Sheriff asked softly, head cocked, genuine curiosity colouring his features.

“It brings me joy,” Greg replied weakly, his voice cracking from the force of his muffled exclamations. “It brings joy to others. I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

“It's hedonism,” Winter quipped, jaw setting once more. “You’re risking your immortal soul for-”

“I’m risking a vague, unproven concept of eternal bliss for guaranteed happiness and pleasure. And if there is a judge of our actions, how can spreading happiness go against me?” Greg asked softly, his interruption overlooked as the Sheriff contemplated his words.

Winter’s eyes held the other man’s steadily, fingertips dancing lightly over the bruised skin once more. “And this?” he clarified, sparing a glance at the marks he’d made. “How does this bring anyone joy?”

Greg’s mouth moved silently for a moment, and then he frowned. “I... Don’t know, exactly. All I know is that offering myself up to be beaten and bruised and fucked without mercy is one of my favourite things in the world. It’s all so... Feral. Pulsing with desire and hunger and need. You feel it too, don’t you?” he added, head cocked slightly as he considered the man before him – a man he was, after all, despite all pretences otherwise. “When you were hitting me, I could feel you getting into it. I know what that’s like.” He licked his lips uncertainly as he slid his torso from the bed, settling on his knees with a subtle wince as he turned to face the man standing over him. “Your heart racing... Blood pumping... Every thought on the now, on the bruises and the adrenaline and the next lash, the next fix...” He looked up at the Sheriff through his lashes, demure and obedient. “The feeling of ownership and control – ‘here is this pretty creature who will do anything I tell him to, even if he can’t walk at the end of it’. It’s more intoxicating than any liquor that has ever passed my lips. And the feeling of being owned, of surrendering that control... That’s equally so.”

Winter considered him for a moment longer, head tipped to one side. The boy did look beautiful like this – his cheeks flushed, unable to settle comfortably with his ass on his heels, eyes wide and cock still straining. His fingers were tender as he lifted the Greg’s chin, pale gaze searching the mahogany depths imploringly. “... Prove it.”

“I-I’m sorry?” Greg stammered, blinking in surprise. He knew he’d had an impact on the Sheriff, but the words were still unexpected.

“Prove it,” Winter repeated, his voice dropping to a low growl. “Prove to me just how joyful this can be, and I won’t arrest you.” Greg arched an eyebrow, and the fingers on his chin tightened at his insolence. “Well?”

“I’d love to,” the man breathed, eyes wide with excitement. “I’d be honoured to be used by you, Sir.”

The Sheriff let out a soft, breathy groan, shifting his fingers to Greg’s hair. “Show me how you put that smart mouth to work, boy. Let’s see if your tongue is as quick when you’ve got a mouthful.”

The whimper of pleasure that escaped the kneeling man was almost inaudible, but the way his cock twitched with need didn’t go unnoticed, earning a smirk from Winter as Greg fumbled with his buttons eagerly, jerking down the Sheriff’s trousers to whine at the sight of the half-hard cock only a thin layer of cotton from his touch. His fingers ghosted over the bulge, earning a sharp intake of air from the man stood over him, and he shuffled closer as he slid down the fabric.

The Sheriff’s cock twitched steadily as it filled, encouraged by the presence of the man kneeling so eagerly at his feet, but it was already a significant size, eliciting a whine from Greg. “Sir... Such a treat...”

“Enough talking,” Winter snapped, tugging him closer by his hair with a growl. “It ain’t gonna to suck itself.”

The submissive man nodded eagerly, licking his lips before taking the tip in his mouth slowly. Winter’s head fell back, eyes closing as he let out a rapturous groan. The sound only increased as Greg’s head shifted nearer, his length sliding along the sex worker’s tongue slowly, hands finding his hips to anchor him close.

Greg rumbled appreciatively around the Sheriff’s cock, his own eyes shut in pleasure, moving patiently and expertly as the length between his lips thickened and hardened further. Winter, in his inexperience, began to pant and tremble quickly, hips jerking without rhythm, and the sex worker knew the signs well enough to take him deeper, swallowing around the Sheriff’s length to allow it to slip into his throat.

The motion was enough to drive the Sheriff over the edge, pressing himself deeper, back arched as the soft, snug heat of Greg's throat encased his cock irresistibly. His groan was deafening and broken as he spilled his seed inside his willing pet, nails digging into dark hair and pricking the skin beneath.

Greg gasped for breath when Winter eventually drew back, both men shaking with the effort and pleasure of the moment. The Sheriff’s fingers loosened haltingly, cramped and aching from his fierce grip, and he smoothed the tufts of hair he left sticking upright. “Th-that was, uh.... G-good. That was good,” Winter breathed, his voice cracking from the comedown, and the man beneath him purred happily.

“I’m glad, Sir...” Greg murmured back, running his tongue over his lower lip slowly. “Anything else I can do to service you?”

Winter let out a quiet whine before clearing his throat hard, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat at those pretty brown eyes, blown wide with lust, gazing up at him adoringly. “On the bed.”

Greg obeyed immediately, scrambling into position, fingers twitching to caress his aching cock – but the submissive was too well-trained for such behaviours. Despite this, Winter’s eyes narrowed at the wandering hands, and he reached for his belt where it had fallen, moving towards the man sprawled and offering himself willingly. He passed the belt around his wrists and through itself, looping through the flimsy bed frame and back through the buckle to hold his prey fast.

Greg simply whined and squirmed, until a firm hand on his throat pinned him. “Roll,” the Sheriff breathed, ghosting his lips lightly over the other man’s before releasing him. Winter smirked as his pet offered his ass willingly, marvelling at the array of colours marring his skin. “Nice ass,” he purred, earning a delighted wriggle. His fingertips grazed over the plethora of shades, eliciting a gasp and groan when he squeezed the proffered flesh firmly. “You do this a lot... I’m assuming I don’t need to take it slowly with you...”

Greg shook his head fiercely, fingers curling in his bonds. “No, Sir. I can handle it.” Winter murmured his praise as he fisted his cock, eyes on the bruises he’d caused, already half-hard once more at how freely this man offered his body for destruction and free use. It took only a few strokes for him to become impatient, hungry for his pet – who was squirming desperately, his breath coming almost in pants as he whined quietly. “Please, Sir... Please...”

Winter swallowed as he positioned himself behind his plaything, lining his head with Greg's opening and pushing in slowly – not for the benefit of his pet, but to revel in the moment, eyes fluttering as the tight ass stretched around his length, drawing out a groan of pure pleasure from the shuddering submissive and enraptured Sheriff both.

“So fucking tight for such a slut,” Winter hissed as he buried himself to the hilt, leaning forward to apply his own bites to the bruise-peppered neck of his pet, a hand between the shoulder blades keeping the squirming man still as he shifted patiently. “I can see the appeal...”

“Please- fuck...” Greg whimpered, wriggling as best he could, and the Sheriff snorted.

“Had enough already?”

“No! God, no, please- please, just fuck me-” He cut himself off with a moan of relief as Winter’s hips met his harder, fingernails digging into the skin as he set up a steady rhythm against the submissive’s bruised flesh.

“So eager, even when you’re so broken...” The Sheriff leant in again, this time to trail his tongue along Greg’s sweat-damp jaw. “You’re delicious.”

“Please, Sir- I can-can’t take it, please- Just touch me, please... O-or let me touch myself... It’s too good, and I’m so cl-” Another cry spilled from his lips as the Sheriff increased his pace, slamming into his beaten ass with reckless abandon as his fingers shifted to undo the belt holding his pet still, before wrapping around his throat and pulling him back against his chest.

“Show me how much you love this,” he purred, his pace unfaltering as his submissive stammered his gratitude, fingers wrapping quickly around his leaking cock to stroke himself with deft expertise. “That’s it, boy. Mewl for me like a good whore, and I’ll give you what y-you want...”

The Sheriff cursed himself for his stammer, borne of the pleasure of Greg’s tight body wreathe around him like a vice, the submissive’s utter surrender to his command intoxicating.

But the stumble was quickly forgotten as Greg arched against him, muscles quivering around the Sheriff’s cock as his pet rutted frantically, his own essence spilling over the sheets as he sobbed his pleasure. The combination of the sex worker’s joy and enjoyment at turning himself over fully, the sense of control and power he had been offered, and the physical sensations of his lover spasming in his grasp sent the Sheriff descending freely into his own climax, burying his sob of pleasure in a neck proffered for sacrifice.

The boys fell asleep in a mess of tangled sheets and slick skin, pressed together with barely any space between their bodies.

When the Sheriff awoke, it was to a sharp stab of anxiety – but Greg’s tender touches quickly eased any worry from his mind, replaced with soft sighs and a sleepy haze of pleasure. When Winter took him again, it was an act of gentleness and reciprocity, their bodies rocking together, the more experienced man guiding the other’s clumsy hand around his cock, showing him how to caress someone else, his careful tutelage rapturously absorbed and enacted without hesitation.

When they eventually peeled themselves apart, Greg stood with a grunt, arms arching over his head, his multicoloured backside on full display and earning a wince from the man still sprawled on the bed. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, and his lover glanced at him for a moment, brow furrowed before he chuckled with realisation, trailing a palm over his bruised skin.

“This? Sweet boy, this is nothing. I’ve had worse without complaint. I had so much fun,” he assured the Sheriff with a grin, eliciting an uncertain smile in response.

“Perhaps I’ll have to try it from your perspective next time,” he replied hesitantly, licking his lips with nerves. Greg paused, shirt halfway down his torso, and leaned forward to brush his lips over Winter’s.

“I think you’d have fun letting go of that control sometime, Snowflake…” He smiled, trailing a tender fingertip over the Sheriff’s jaw. “And it’s nice to know you want there to be a next time. … You loved it, didn’t you?”

Winter hesitated for a moment, his gaze still betraying his uncertainty, before the darkness cleared and he nodded firmly. “I did. And yes- I’d really, really like there to be a next time.”

Greg smiled, straightening and stretching again. “So… I guess I’m not arrested?”

Sheriff Barnes snorted, pushing a hand through his hair and leaning back against the sheets. “No, Greg. You’re not arrested.”

[queen--kenobi]

I’d love to hear your nsfw thots on the corries

Hhhmmm what haven't I covered

Okay. Thire eats ass and does so like a pro. I think he's old enough he's not ashamed of his desires and doesn't shy away from some of them

Thorn jokes about eating ass but is too chicken to actually do it

Fox won't admit it, but he prefers receiving to giving oral. Likes watching you choke on his cock

Tbh if you want to make Fox go nuts, blow him but take charge doing it. Make it fully on your terms, and Fox will be putty. He gets to give up control and gets a blowjob? Sold

People think Hound is the most vanilla but it's actually Thorn. Hound has "the shy ones are always kinky" type deals going on. Thorn just wants to laugh and have fun during sex

I feel like Hound could have a Daddy kink? Idk I'm torn because on the one hand, no. But on the other hand, I think he's a soft dom, and that title tends to go with soft Dom stuff

Maybe situational Daddy kink

Do not call Fox Daddy he does not fuck with that. Hard fucking no

Thire is a thighs and ass man. For this reason, summer is his favorite season

[sergeantjessi]

Will ja nicht sagen dass Klaas in dem Outfit viel zu viel für mich war aber irgendwie habe ich keine andere Erinnerung an diese letzte... halbe Stunde oder so, was weiß denn ich, ich habe Klaas in dem Aufzug gesehen und es war vorbei mit mir

[bi-writes]

mmmm ;) simon has got a special eye on single-mom!reader, doesn't he? (18+, lactation kink, daddy kink, breeding kink, dark content !!!!)

it's your first day back after maternity leave. you already look different, simon notices this immediately. the way you fill out your cargo pants--fuck, there's no way your arse has ever looked so fat. no way your thighs have ever been so plush--ngghhh...

fuck, you've never been prettier. motherhood suits you. your hair is longer. your eyes are a little brighter. and fuck, your tits look so heavy, can't keep his eyes off of them, can't fucking focus, fuck, fuck, fuck--

you look so cute patching him up. pouty bottom lip between your teeth as you string his lacerated skin back together with a practiced stitch, standing between his spread legs as he sits in a chair in your office. he nicked his shoulder real well in training today, and fuck, is he grateful for johnny's heavy hand because you're standing over him, and he has a front-row seat to the greatest view of his fucking life.

christ, they practically jiggle with every movement you make. you pop the cap off some disinfectant, and the little bounce of your chest makes him chub up immediately, and he doesn't trust the buckle of his belt anymore because you're so fucking hot. and god, it isn't fair, this isn't fair, you must be teasing him--because as he's staring shamelessly at your pretty, perky nipples, he notices the fabric of your shirt beginning to grow damp.

you notice his line of sight after you tie off his wound. you look down, gasping, your hands dropping your supplies to come up and cup your breasts and cover the wetness of your shirt.

"god--dammit," you breathe. you haven't gotten a chance to pump today, it's been so busy in the clinic, and god, they ache.

you're his sergeant. his pretty little soldier. he just wants to help you. he's just helping you, isn't he? that's what this is when he draws his big hands up, shifting your shirt until it nestles below your nursing bra. he's just helping you when he unlatches the strap with ease, drawing down the soft material and baring your tits for him, his eyes bulging when he sees how wet the skin is, how they glisten.

his mouth is so warm. it's the perfect relief after such a long day. his tongue is soft and careful, swirling in heated circles as he soothes the ache in the throbbing fat there. you're so wet--soaking your panties, you know you are, your hormones firing wildly as he pulls back, opening his mouth and catching just a dribble of the warm essence that leaks from one breast. finally, finally--fuck, he's so good at this, his mouth latching onto you again as he groans loudly. he's so sick, it's so fucking lewd, but god dammit, it's just what you need, you need this, you need this.

he likes you like this. he likes you fat around the hips and leaking from your tits and spilling sweetness into your panties. he needs to keep you this way. he needs to keep you pretty and aching and starving for the relief that he knows he can give you.

he doesn't care whose kid it is, he wants to keep you this way. he'd let johnny or gaz fuck you stupid after this if it meant plugging you up and making you full and beautiful and round again. he's never wanted kids anyway, he knows he probably shoots blanks, it's why you got pregnant so fast after he shut the door on your relationship and refused to open it again, isn't it?

nnghghhgh...

fuck, his pants are already shoved low, just enough that he can pull himself out. he's so heavy, balls so full and aching so badly, he's hardly slapping against his stomach. you slip your own trousers off, eager to get back into his lap, practiced pretty girl sinking down onto him and riding him for her life in the dark of her office.

he buries his face into your chest. they're bouncing every time you smack your hips back down against his, and he can't stop the noises he's making as he suckles your tits in his mouth and uses a firm grip on your ass to meet your thrusts with force. fuck, he'd forgotten what a nice cunt you had--he'd forgotten how nice and soft you are, how messy and wet you get, how whenever he fucks you, his entire pelvis is always soaked with the slick of you because you can never stop creaming on his cock.

"so big," you babble, just like you used to, and he grunts as he aims for that little spot inside of you that makes you cry. he wants to see those pretty tears falling down your face, but all it took this time was his tongue sucking on your achy nipples to make you pouty and sobbing.

fuck, you've always been good at taking him, you always were such a good girl, but now he's overwhelmed. your body is so different and yet the same, and he likes it so much more--fuck, there's so much to grab onto now, the smacking of your skin is loud, and you've always been such a wet girl, but now you're positively dripping. he grits his teeth as he looks down finally, watching the way you've wet his trousers, his boxers, your thighs, the goddamn chair. he can't wait to lay you down after this and put his head between your thighs, can't wait to get those tits back in his mouth and make you cry again and again and again and again--

yeah, yeah, yeah--fuck, fuck, fuck--

you collapse after he cums. whimpering, taking two of his fingers and fitting them into your mouth so you have something to suck on, something you always used to do for comfort. he hisses a little as he pulls out just a little, globs of cum dribbling onto the seat before he eases you back down again. you whine, clinging onto him, your eyes shutting as he shoves his cum practically into your stomach.

yeah, fuck--he's gonna make his little sergeants take you nice after this. he needs you to stay like this, needs to keep you fat and pretty and swollen. don't mind the chunky babies you'll have, he'll take care of you, sweetheart, he'll be the daddy that son of a bitch never gave you, yeah?

he grabs the phone nearest to him to check the time as you settle on wobbly legs into the seat next to him. it must be your phone, because there's a picture of a smiling baby as the background. his eyes flicker to yours, and when you catch his gaze, you swallow hard. there's a giant chubby baby you're holding in that picture.

with blond hair and dark eyes (;

[buckyalpine]

40s Sergeant Barnes with a nurse and a Sergeant kink (and breeding and house wife kink, virginity loss). This was supposed to be a pure smutty drabble but then I got in my feelings and added some fluff and angst but I promise Bucky is still a dirty, nasty little fuck in this. Just with a sweeter ending. The one he deserves.

Listen just imagine what a cute, sexy menace Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes would be just waking up from an injury when his eyes flutter open to the pretty nurse he’s been eyeing from the day he started. You’re not a shy, dainty little thing, nope. Not at all.

You bark out orders like a drill Sergeant and one glare from you is all it takes to get everyone in line and on task without a second thought. Even his superiors are scared of you, biting their tongue when you stitch them up and send them on their way before running off to your next patient.

Bucky was in love.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he rasps, throwing you a charming smirk while you roll your eyes in response, shaking your head. "How'd I get so lucky, got a my little angel tendin' to me"

“I see your injury hasn’t stopped hurt that mouth of yours Sergeant" You quirk an eyebrow while he playfully huffs as you change the dressing covering a gash on his abdomen. You swab the area clean and he doesn't flinch even though you know it must burn like hell, his muscles tensed while he continues to watch you with heart eyes. "Now you know I'm not your little angel, I got 20 other men to fix up, you better be out of this bed as soon as you're all healed up"

“C’mon sugar, you're breakin' my heart" Bucky gives you a little pout with those perfect lips and you catch the twinkle in his eye as he looks over your form with complete admiration. He loved your sassy, take no shit attitude and it's taking everything in him to calm himself down so he doesn't get a hard on right there in front of you.

"You'd tell that to a cat with three legs if it was in a nurses outfit" You try your best to not give into his flirty comments and puppy eyes, knowing damn well he's a heart breaker but he makes it so difficult when he continues to woo you with his boyish charm.

He can't help but chase after you; catching the way your eyes always dart around with anxiety when his group returns from an operation, relief flooding them when you finally spot him. He loves your indifferent attitude, patting him down to make sure he's uninjured but your furrowed brows and the tiny pout on your lips give away that you're worried.

How can he just let you go. Every time you check over him, he needs you closer.

So much closer.

-

"Ms. y/l/n, Sergeant Barnes is requesting you in his tent, he says it's urgent"

You shake your head looking over at the time, quietly making your way over to the tent he's stationed at, thankful that a number of troops were sleeping so you wouldn't be seen as you quickly slip inside.

“And what hurts now” you sass with your hands on your hips seeing the soldier in perfect health, doing your best to assess him without letting him know.

"Always checkin' over me" Bucky chuckles, seeing what you're doing; his words making your cheeks heat up, "Knew you cared about me sugar"

"Well what am I doin' here" You give him an unconvincing huff, struggling to keep your voice steady, refusing to meet his eyes, keeping your gaze on his silver dog tags instead. It doesn't help that he's handsome as hell with a light dusting of scruff covering his cheeks. Bucky's never seen you flustered before and it evokes something in him, all the blood in his body rushing south seeing your fingers twitch.

All he wanted to do was kiss you but now-

“Help your Sergeant out doll” He whispers, taking another step forward till his chest brushes against yours, his hand coming to tilt your chin up, "Will you?"

You gasp feeling his hardness press against your thigh, your heart fluttering wildly as his thumb traces your lips, any semblance of control you had slipping away feeling the warmth of his skin.

“Y-yes Sergeant Barnes”

His lips press against yours, soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the way his body was screaming for him to pick you up and toss you onto his cot.

"Sweet like sugar" He lets his hands fall to your waist, pulling you flush against his body while your arms drape on top of his shoulders. You stand on your toes chasing more of his lips and he chuckles at the needy whine you let out when he pulls away for air.

Now let's say your first night together was actually quite tame. He kisses you again and you swoon when he repeatedly checks in with you before going any further. His hand slips under your skirt, letting his fingers toy with places no on else has touched. With each night, he needs you more and more until he can't hold off any longer and neither can you.

-

You sneak into his tent and this time he doesn't hesitate to undress you completely, not when he needs you bare with nothing separating you both. You feel your heart race as he lies on top of you, draping a thin sheet over himself when you shiver at the chill night air. You feel his body heat instantly warm you up, his heavy cock resting between your soaked folds.

"Are you sure, sugar?" He asks, his hand cupping your cheek and stroking your skin.

"Please Sergeant" You whisper and the way you say his title makes his cock twitch. There's something so different about you when you're in his bed, a sweet little bunny giving herself to him completely. It drives him feral with a need to make you feel good, make you cry for his cock and his cock only, to keep you nice and full of him.

You don't look twice at anyone else and here you are completely naked in his tent with your tight little virgin cunt, your legs spread open so he can put his dick in you; there was no way he was ever going to let you go.

"You tell me if it's too much, alright?" His lips tickle your neck as kisses your skin while rubbing his heavy cock through your folds, coating it in your slick, "Breathe for me"

He slips his tags into your mouth as he starts to press in, the initial sting making you bite down hard onto the metal feeling a mix of pleasure and pain. You whine at the way he stretches you open, your thighs squeezing around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders.

"Shhh, that's it love, doin' so good for me so good for your Sergeant, look how you're takin' all of me baby" He looks down to where you're both connected as he continues to slowly push himself in till hes fully sheathed inside you. He gives you time to adjust, slipping his tags out of your lips and letting his tongue lace with yours instead, his balls already throbbing with how tightly you were squeezing his cock.

"Please-Sergeant" your heels press into his ass desperate for him to move, gasping when he starts to slowly roll his hips, barely pulling out.

"I got you love-don't worry" Bucky moves as slowly as he could not wanting to hurt you, taking just as much care of you as you had with him countless of times.

But he can only keep up at that pace for so long. Your muffled whines and moans don't help the way his mind is already spiraling. His pretty little nurse all spread out just for him, taking his raw, bare cock in her soaking pussy, squeezing him so tight, he was only a few strokes from cumming.

If it were up to him he would've proposed on the spot, thinking about making love to you on your wedding night, seeing you all shy and sweet wrapped up in soft white lace. If you were his wife, he'd take you apart every which way, not giving a fuck about traditions, taking you right on the dining room table.

You'd be the prettiest little thing for him to come home to, such a good wife all dirty just for her husband. Only he'd know the way your mouth would slobber all over his cock like your life depended on it. The way you'd moan at the taste of his cum. Bucky's eyes rolled back at the thought of you with nothing but some heels and a string of pearls he'd put around your neck while he stuffed you with cum and emptied his balls in you.

"S-Sergeant-I-oh god" You whimpered feeling his cock grow harder, your pussy pulling him right back in, feeling the coil low in your belly pull tighter and tighter as he hit that spot.

Meanwhile Bucky's jaw clenched as he felt his balls pull tight to his body, the tip leaking steadily in your pussy. His mind spiraled into places he didn't think would exist before he met you, rogue thoughts he only entertained when he had his dick in his hand. The harder he fucked you the more he thought about how gorgeous you'd look with a swollen belly.

Fuck, imagine if he got you pregnant right then and there. That nurses uniform would no longer fit you. Everyone would know he knocked you up, your perfectly round tummy carrying Sergeant James Barnes' baby, breasts heavy with milk, God, he wasn't going to last-

“Gonna let your Sergeant pump you full of cum?” He pants, letting his hands grip onto your hips like his life depends on it, the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit.

“Yes!!” You sob, biting down onto his shoulder to keep your cries down while he continues to fuck you into oblivion. You don't understand how such filth can spew from that pink, pouty little mouth of his. "Please-please-need-youI-I'm gonna-"

"M'yours sweet girl, m'all yours, go on, cum for me love, cum on my cock, it's all yours" He gazed into your eyes, cooing at your parted lips and sweat slicked skin. It didn't take long for you to shatter around him his lips smashing against yours to swallow your moans.

"Want your cum Sergeant" You beg , desperate to have him claim you from the inside.

"Oh fuck baby, y-you can't say that, m-gonna, oh fuckkk" Your words throw Bucky right off the edge as he lets out a deep groan stilling his hips and shooting endless ropes of his spend into you. You both lay in comfortable silence, your fingers playing with his hair; his usual kempt brown locks now disheveled .

“Y’know m’gonna marry you” his scruffy cheek nuzzles into your neck as he continues to stay deep inside you as his cock softens, “after all this is over. Gonna put a ring on that finger”

His words send a different wave of emotions over you, feeling more safe than ever, clinging onto him as tightly as possible. You let a whimper slip out and he pulls away from your neck with an expression of concern.

“What is it love” Bucky coos, wiping away the tears that slip you, stroking your cheek while you bite back a sniffle.

“Do you mean it? After this is all over?” You weren't sure what Bucky would want-there was still a war going on. Anything could happen. Perhaps this was just to keep his bed warm. Something to keep him calm, you were just someone to-

"Of course sugar" Bucky presses a firm kiss to your forehead, silencing the thoughts that tried to run wild. "You're mine"

-

And of course he gets his happy ending. Because when it's all over, he gets the ring for the girl he loves. He's on one knee, proposing to you with the sweetest words. He treats you like a princess on your wedding night, making love all night long until the sun is up.

There isn't a surface in the house he's left untouched. Nothing makes him more feral than moaning for his pretty wife, constantly taking her hand and wrapping it around his cock, watching that diamond glint with each stroke.

It doesn't take long for you to feel a little squeamish, knowing all the tell tale signs.

The day you tell him he's going to be a dad is one of the happiest days of his life. There isn't a single night that goes by where he isn't nuzzling his face into your tummy, talking to your little one.

Everything was perfecttt.

[lanabuckybarnes]

Sergeant’s Got You

18+ Minors DNI

You’re stressed, he knows exactly how to make you feel better.

Note: I was asked for something like this, so it’s heavy on the love for his dog tags

Pairing: beefy Bucky (but he’s got that fatws attitude) x reader

Warnings: Dom Bucky, basically smutty right from the get go, filthy buck, he has his metal arm (I’m a slut for it), you like Bucky’s dog tags, like really like them, Petnames: sweetness, sweetheart, sweet thing, sweetie, good girl, baby, a LOT of dirty talk, sergeant kink, sir kink, oral (M receiving), unprotected p in v sex, he’s rough, degradation, feral Bucky, squirting, creampie, aftercare.

Word Count: 3.2k *insert cat HUH sound*

You were stressed beyond belief. Your mission ended up having a few more loose ends than anyone was anticipating leaving you to pick up the pieces. Now you were finally back in New York and ready to punch the next person who pats your back sympathetically with a ‘you tried’ look on their face.

Just as you were contemplating boxing the cupboard in the kitchen than wouldn’t stay open two strong arms pulled you back and into a hard body.

“You alright sweetness?” Bucky spoke into the locks of hair at the back of your ear. His cologne had you relaxing already, the fingers on his right hand hitched up your shirt to rub soothing circles over your hip bone. What really got you was the subtle grind of his hips against your ass; he was a filthy shit, you loved it when he knew what you wanted.

You flipped your body around in his arms, your fingers running up from his abs to his soft chest until they wrapped around his neck. He smirked, he knew exactly what you wanted him to do but he was a tease, you had to tell him or he wouldn’t. It’s just the way the world worked for you sweetheart.

You surged forward, desperate for a taste of the cherry lips you missed so much. You hated to admit just how much the man in front of you affected you, how often on your mission your hand snaked down your body and in-between your legs at the photos Sam sent of your lost puppy husband, his wide back and tiny waist wrapped in that blue Henley that had the arms pulled up to his forearm revealing the long veins and thick structure underneath. You needed him, now.

He pulled back just as your lips brushed his, a dark smirk and a filthy blue colour surfacing in his orbs. Fucking tease.

“You know you gotta use your words sweetheart” One of his big hands, his metal one, landed on the back of your skull, the metal thumb dancing over your bottom lip before you sucked it into your wet mouth. He growled at the innocent look you gave him as your tongue flicked over the tip before poking out and running up the underside of the shiny plates.

He pushed down, holding your tongue in place as it travelled, drool dripping from the muscle but he didn’t care, the sight of the rivulets of saliva sliding down the silver had him harder than a rock. One of the most technologically advanced pieces of handiwork and you were sucking on it like a little slut, pathetic.

He had you in his room before you could even blink, the rough slamming of the door vibrating the wall he pushed you up against.

“You’re a little slut ain’t you? Sucking on my thumb like my cock, getting your drool everywhere, you’re so lucky I don’t make you clean it up” he spoke as he hastily pulled your shirt and his off, his dog tags jangling softly as they fell back into place between his huge chest. You moved like a magpie, gripping at the shiny metal tags, giving them a squeeze, his name imprinting for a second of the fat of your palm before letting them slip between your fingers.

He watched you, ever fascinated at just how worked up you got about him, but it was your love for his dog tags that had him curious. You always, without fail slipped a finger around them, whether it was when you pulled him close for a kiss or if your slept on his chest, one of your fingers slipped itself through the chain and held them close to your hand.

He wasn’t stupid though, he could practically smell when you soaked yourself, always conveniently after his swinging tags made contact with your chin or ran up the column in your spine, the way that little pussy tightened around him when the old metal swept over your lips, tapping your teeth as you moaned out in pleasure. It made him embarrassingly weak too.

“You want me to fuck you cute girl?” He groaned into the crook of your neck, his plush lips suckling obscene dark marks downward till he reached the crevice of your breasts, your legs wrapped around him tighter as his hand grazed over your sensitive sides to the meat of your tit, gripping it softly and flicking a warm thumb over your nipple. You jerked into him at the shock of pleasure, your hand carding through his waves of hair and pulling him close as worked on the underside of your other boob.

“Words Sweetheart, I need words” He knew it wouldn’t be long till you hit that sub space, the same thing always happened when you were stressed, you needed your big Sergeant to take the wheel, use you a little bit.

“Please” fuck the whimper in your voice had him grinding up into you, the scratchy fabric of his jeans meeting the barely their material of the shorts you wore under your gear.

“Please what sweet thing?” he moved to watch the deep colour of your eyes swim with lust, eradicating any stress they once held, he was doing his job.

“Please use me Sir” you whined, fingers wrapping around the chain of his dog tags again to pull him close, finally getting that kiss you so desperately needed. His left hand cupped your cheek, rubbing a thumb over the high point softly, a sharp contrast to the bruising kiss you had going on. Teeth clashed with teeth, soft whimpers falling from your lips as he pushed closer, flicking his tongue viciously with your much weaker one, running against the top of it and sucking once it gave up it’s fight. He pulled you in again, tender with his lips this time, enclosing your swollen ones with his, his tongue running over your upper lip soothingly.

“Fuck! You’re making me go crazy” he chuckled as he moved off the wall, backing himself up to the bed till his calves hit the frame. He sat down with both of you, your body straddling him, his right hand pushing you back and forth softly on his bulge. The lust in his eyes mixed with a softness as he looked up at you, his metal hand still on your face although now his shiny forefinger and thumb hooked onto your chin, pulling you forward for a kiss, and another, and another. You whined, you didn’t want kisses and grinding, you wanted him to blow your back out, use your pretty face, anything but this.

Seeming to sense your thoughts he stopped your movements, the right hand coming up to join his left on either side of your face.

“What do you want sweetheart? You want your soldier to ruin you? I can feel how hot you are on my dick… you want it bad don’t you?” You moaned at his words, dripping filthily from his tongue, he sure had a way to fuck you up without even pulling out his cock.

“Yes, yes please. Use me” he smirked, satisfied at your whimpered begging. With a click of his tongue and a flick of his eyes he had you manoeuvring onto your knees in front of him.

He was a sight, he looked carved from marble, each bend of his body, every nook and muscle and vein delicately etched into rock solid stone to be preserved for a lifetime. His bulge strained painfully against his jeans, angrily awaiting your slender fingers offering it reprise from its tight cell. You were glad to give it just that.

Clumsily, you fiddled with the thick belt around his waist, smiling in satisfaction when the rhythmic clanks finally hit your ears. You flicked the button open and were about to pull the zip of his fly when his hand stopped you.

“With your mouth sweetness” his lip caught between his teeth, a soft blush decorated his face and chest as he watched you. Your tongue ran up the metal, the slight tang hitting your tastebuds, you flicked the little tab until sat snug between your teeth and pulled it down slowly, each tooth of the zip clicking as it finally opened.

Once you were done, Bucky pushed the thick material down his legs with a relieved sigh, letting it pool at his ankles before flicking them off with your help. His hard-on raged against the soft grey briefs, a pool of darkness lay at the head, precum soaking through.

His hands met yours, pulling them up his thighs and hooking them around the waistband of his briefs. He smiles down at you, eyes crinkling and neck craned as he watched you both inch down his underwear until it caught on his tip, he hissed as the scratchy fabric pulled over his silky head before it slapped deliciously onto his public bone and stomach.

“God” he chuckled breathlessly at the feeling of finally being free “look at you drooling all over yourself for me, you want a taste sweet thing?” His metal fingers had wrapped themselves around the fat base of his length, pushing it forward till the spongy tip hooked onto your upper lip, his salty precum smearing over it like a x-rated lip balm.

You pecked the tip of his dick, the tip of your tongue barely poking him as you did. You moved down, lips brushing against every angry vein on his cock until you met the metal of his hand in which you slowly licked a thick strip back up until you swirled your wet muscle against his head relentlessly.

“Fuck sweetheart, good girl” he groaned, head lulling back as his hips jittered off the bed softly, pushing his head into your awaiting mouth. You sucked him in greedily, selfishly inhaling his thick musky scent that had your pussy drooling against your lace panties, threatening to spill into your shorts— you didn’t doubt that if he had you naked, your essence would drip all over the wood of the floor— he’d have a field day making you clean it up.

“God you’re so good, ha— making your soldier feel so good, you like your sergeant all needy? Ready to pull you up off that floor and sink my cock into you” You moaned against his length, gagging softly when he jerked up into the back of your throat.

“Shit, Nuh uh get up here, I wanna cum in that pretty pussy, move come on” He pulled you up and off his length like you weighed nothing at all, his fingers ripping the shorts from your body and only stopping when he caught a glimpse of you’re soaked panties.

“Fuck girl, who’s got you like this hmm?” His thick thumb brushed small circles over your neglected clit. You moaned loudly, jerking off the bed with a shudder at the feeling, more of your slick pooling into your already soaked gusset.

“Mmm I can fucking smell you, smell so good baby… bet I could fuck you without prep, you want that?” He spoke, his voice deep, laced with primal lust— nothing like the composed grumpy old man everyone else saw— no, he was raw, unhinged, pupils blown wide with sexual desire. You wanted nothing more than his cock in you.

“Please Buck, just your cock I don’t care just please” you cried when he pushed particularly hard on your aching nub, your knuckles turning white as you fisted then covers beneath you; your legs shook as they threatened to close on his thick forearm, you were close already but you didn’t want to cum without him filling you out.

He gleamed at your form, fucked out, soaked and crying already— he’d barely fucking touched you— he couldn’t wait to see your face as he fucked you raw.

He ripped your panties with renewed vigour, the ruined material pulled away from your sensitive heat to hang around the your ankle that now sat over Bucky’s muscular shoulder. Your thigh quaked softly at the stretch but his cold digits ran softly against the tight muscle, soothing it for the time being.

His fat head tapped against your clit, each wet slap causing your body to twitch off the bed at the electric jolts of pleasure it sent up your spine. You could feel Bucky’s fingers circling your entrance, two of his thick fingers squishing into your tight hole as he prepped you lightly. When they left, a long line of arousal followed, connecting him to you, he growled at the sight before licking the wetness from his rough palm and middle finger.

“Mmm so sweet, if I wasn’t so fucking horny I’d make you cum all over my face… make you soak my mouth, shit” he was talking more to himself than you but you clenched around nothing at the thought, the thought of him eating you out for hours was not impossible, he’d done it before.

His thick tip drooling against your entrance pulled you from your trance, he pushed softly, hooking his head along the tight rim of your pussy as he stared up at you.

“you ready sweet thing?” He leaned over, right hand resting against the side of your head, his thumb flicking stray tears from your cheeks. You nodded softly, eyes unmoving from him, watching as his lips twitched in pleasure as his head popped into you, each inch dragging in slowly, aided by your soaked folds.

You moaned pathetically, his head running over your g-spot had you clenching around him, your orgasm hitting you quickly, your hands tightening painfully against the sheets as white hot pleasure soaked through your nerves. Everything was tingling, flashes of colour dancing over your closed eyelids.

Bucky wasn’t much better as he watched you, having to will his own orgasm down at the sight of you losing yourself over him already. You were a fucking sight to him, your tits bouncing with each sharp breath you took, mouth hung open allowing each whimper or silent scream to escape unabashedly.

“Ohh good girl, that’s it mmmm shit you’re fucking clenching me tight baby” Bucky mumbled, words falling from his lips in verbal mush, his own mind barely keeping up. When you finally came down from your high you open your eyes to look up at him, a shy little smile playing on your lips at the way he bore down at you.

“I’m so-“ you began but he pushed forward, sucking up your moan at the feeling of him hitting your cervix into his mouth.

“Don’t you dare be fucking sorry for that sweetheart, you hear? Fucking almost made me cum like a fucking teenager again, naughty girl ain’t you? I fucking love you” His hot breath panted against your lips as he growled at you, the last thing he wanted was for you to feel ashamed about the pleasure you were feeling. You blushed deeply, it was quite funny just how much his love for you made you blush, even when he was currently pushing against the deepest parts of you.

“Can I move baby?” He asked against your lips, smiling satisfyingly as you nodded before planting a wet kiss on your lips and pushing himself up.

He started slow, letting each vein pull against every nerve in your heat, his teeth clenching at just how tight you’d squeeze every time his head brushed against your sweet bundle of pleasure. His smooth pace never lasted long though, his hips jerked violently against you once he deemed you ready enough, your body slipping up across the sheets at each slam of his hips against your thighs.

He was leaning over you now, your leg pushed up between both your bodies, his dog tags clanging above your face at each jerk of his body. You reached a hand up, encircling the darkened metal, pulling on it as your body twitched with hints of a second orgasm.

“Shit! You like when my fucking tags hang over your face, fucking little slut aren’t you? You like being fucked like this? your sergeant fucking all that stress away? Mmm god, maybe I’ll put them around your neck next time hmm? Have you wear them when you’re riding me, let them fucking swing between those tits— god you’d love that” Bucky rambled, on and on, thrusts becoming sloppy as you clenched around him for the umpteenth time, only this time your orgasm slammed into you like a freight train, you could feel yourself soaking Bucky’s dick and thighs— probably soaking the already destroyed sheets below you.

With one final thrust Bucky’s moan caught in this throat as he pushed himself the deepest he could go, hot cum soaking your cervix and pushing out against his length to run along your folds, mixing with your juices. His legs give out forcing himself against you even more, pulling a pained whine from you at the feeling. As your orgasms settled, your breathing slightly less laboured although still heavy, you pulled him close by his tags, kissing his blissed out face right on the lips.

“You were so good for me sweet thing, so fucking good” he praised, his metal hand running through your tangled hair, soothing your heated scalp.

He leaned back up with a groan, massaging your aching leg as he pulled it from his shoulder before slipping out of your pussy. You both moaned at the loss, your heat clenching against nothing as his cum slipped from your body in waves. He couldn’t tear his eyes from your heat, tongue poking out to wet his lips as he watched intently. You giggled shyly at his intense expression, your aching legs closing softly in embarrassment much to Bucky’s dismay.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up” he smiled, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you to the bathroom. You snuck a glimpse of the sheets as he carried you, the whole area soaked in a mixture of you both.

“Oh my god” you whispered in disbelief against his head.

“What?” He replied as he set you down and began running a bath.

“The sheets are ruined, I can’t believe I did that” you eyed his naked frame from behind, his wide back flushed red but still absolutely stunning, each muscle rippling as he moved methodically, his small waist directing you to his thick globes. It was then Bucky turned to look at you, catching you ogling at his ass, he laughed when you turned quickly.

“It makes me proud when I look at those sheets, I mean who else can make you squirt like that? Fucking no one” he growled the last part against your lips giving you a quick smooch before turning the water off and lifting you both into the hot bubbled water.

His hands massaged your shoulders, working out the knots from your activities as well as any left over stress from your mission, not that there was any after he fucked it out of you.

You two sat in silence, save for the occasional sigh you let out when he hit the right spot, both savouring each other’s presence, reminiscing on the way you exhausted each other. You laugh when you remember his words.

“What? what’s got you all giggly?” he asked, nipping the skin on the nape of your neck.

“Nothing… just… were you being serious?”

“About what sweetheart?” He eyes you curiously.

“About letting me wear your dog tags” you suppress a smirk as you feel him twitch against your back, obviously your words sparking something in him.

“We’ll discuss it later” he rasped causing you to laugh out loud.

Your week had been stressful, with never ending problems and constant nagging from the higher ups to do the job but when you were in Bucky’s embrace, when you had those dog tags between your fingers or dangling over your face, everything melted away into nothingness, leaving you and Bucky alone.

-

So I lied mwahahahaha, I was going to post it yesterday but I love alcohol so I was drunk but here we are.

I’m a little nervous to post this one idk why.

I hope you enjoyed x

(I do not own any of the photos, credits to original owners)

[cloudystevie]

scary my god you're divine

»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««

pairing || bucky barnes x f!reader

word count || 3235

summary || he would do anything for you.

warnings || smut! dom! bucky x sub! reader, possessive! bucky, a little bit of subspace, choking, little bit of exhibitionism kink, minor pain play, daddy kink (only three times okay i'm sorry i am who i am), degradation, unprotected sex

author's note || 18+ ONLY. not proofread yet. my very first request in a very long time! Anonymous asked: Could you write a Dombucky x Subreader? And if you wouldn't mind jealous!bucky, already established relationship and his dog tags on reader? hope you enjoy nonnie! as always feel free to send in requests or any asks! feel free to reblog! enjoy!

»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««

Today, a select few from the team are supposed to train the new agents, preparing them for the physical aspect of being an agent. Some made it fun or tolerable, like Steve and Sam, who were born leaders and charismatic. Natasha and Wanda enjoyed supervising the sparring sessions. Tony and Bruce enjoyed using technology to throw new obstacles at the agents.

Sometimes literally.

Unfortunately, your grumpy boyfriend, Bucky, just did not find any joy in training days. He didn’t like giving out instructions and praise unless it was you who was under him. He didn’t like supervising weak punches and miscalculated throws. And technology was just a straight-up no for him.

Usually, he could make himself useful with Steve, throwing out no-nonsense orders without making himself a massive part of the effort.

You were taking the elevator down to the gym floor. Fury had instructed you to check everything out and ensure everything went according to the itinerary. 

The doors open, and you glance around to ensure no immediate problems before letting your gaze fall on Bucky; his eyes are already on you. You offer him a bright smile, which he returns with a smirk, and your stomach flutters like it does every time you see him. You’re about 7 feet away from your boyfriend before you feel a hand on your lower back. You startle and turn around to face the newest agent. He has quickly climbed through all of SHIELD’s tests and proven himself to be of great value. He chatted you up last week at Tony’s charity ball, and you tried to let him down gently since you were already happily taken. Bucky was on a mission that day, and you didn’t want to add to his mental load by telling him about some punk who wouldn’t leave you alone.

Apparently, said punk, cannot take no for an answer.

“Back for more, cutie? You finally break up with your imaginary boyfriend?” Marcus teases, but really, he sounds more taunting than playful. You glance over your shoulder as you move away from his grip, and you already see Bucky glaring directly at the spot where Marcus’ hand was on your back. The stopwatch he was holding in his flesh hand shatters, and he doesn’t even flinch when Steve and Sam apologize for him, asking what was wrong as discreetly as they could but one glance over to where you were uncomfortably held hostage by the lean brunet man told them everything they needed to know. 

Bucky cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders up as he stalks towards you two. His looming presence is felt before you can see him in your peripheral vision. You glance up at him and take an instinctive step back toward his hulking body, breathing a sigh of relief because Marcus has to let up now.

He doesn’t.

“Oh hey, Sergeant Barnes, if you don’t mind I’m actually trying to talk to this chick so…” 

The way he talks about you as if you’re not right there makes you physically recoil. Bucky’s eyes harden; he’s not even squaring up to his full stature, and he already easily dwarfs Marcus. Bucky takes a step forward, and everyone in the room comes to a standstill. Everyone shuddering at the sheer anger rolling off of Bucky and the stupidity of Marcus.

Marcus huffs out a laugh. Maybe he gets a little pasty when he’s nervous because he seems to be digging himself a deeper hole when he says something about how many girls fall at his feet and Sarge, you've got to calm down. She’s not worth all that.

In an instant, Steve and Sam command everyone to return to their tasks, and the room begins to bustle again, but with a specific weary energy that was not there before. The very next second, Marcus is picked up by the collar of his black t-shirt and slammed against the wall, the room rattling with the force of it as all the recruits try to ignore the spectacle before them. 

“Touch her again, and I will kill you,” Bucky promises. “If you look at her, I will kill you. If you even think about her, I will fucking kill you. Understand?” His voice is a low grumble, the words resounding and reverberating as you watch Marcus sputter out panicked apologies and his flailing body while Bucky still looks so self-assured and composed. It's as if he’s not scaring a man to death while simultaneously making you drool.

You call out Bucky’s name, and he looks at you over his shoulder, pinning Marcus with one final glare and shove before letting him go as the agent does the walk of shame to the washroom. It’s almost like you’re frozen in your spot. You’ve seen Bucky get aggressive on missions before, but watching him be so willing to defend you, stand up for you when you couldn’t, not even hesitating for a second when he threatened to kill for you. And the worst part is, you were confident he was dead serious. 

Even worse, something about the principle of the situation was really doing it for you.

On the outside, it might have seemed like you were in shock or panic due to the agents’ actions, so Bucky whisked you away to a private interrogation room on the floor above the gym. The whole elevator ride there, his hand is protectively on your lower back, and you just watch the rigid set of his jaw and the anger and possessiveness written all over his features with unmistakable doe eyes. The air in the elevator is thick, and neither of you says a word. Before you know it, Bucky is easily lifting you and placing you on the metal table in the middle of the dull room, and his eyes are scanning yours for any hint of panic or if you’re upset. His hands cup your face gently, the cool vibranium soothing against your heated skin, and he finally breaks the silence. “You’ve gotta say something, baby. Are you okay? After this, that idiot’s going to be gone. I’m sorry if seeing me like that upset you, sweetheart-” Your rushed words cut off his ramble, “I thought that was really hot.” You say quietly and watch as Bucky’s face contorts from one of worry to one of confusion. 

“The way you stood up for me, you were so nonchalant about killing for me. I can’t lie, James. That kind of did something for me.” You continue, biting your lip and scanning him for his reaction, hoping he didn’t take your words in the wrong way. 

He’s silent for a moment. His chest moving steadily with each breath against yours. 

The next moment, his lips are pressed against yours, and you let a surprised squeak out. Your mouth slots open when his wandering hands roughly squeeze your thigh through your satin pants, getting dangerously close to the heat pulsing between your thighs. Taking advantage of your open mouth, Bucky slips his tongue inside your mouth and you buck your hips to seek some friction against your needy core. The kiss is passionate and renders your breathless as he consumes all of your senses. All you can think, see, smell, hear, and feel is James. 

His name falls from your lips in a gasp, you reluctantly pull away to catch your breath, letting your head lull to the side when he peppers sloppy kisses all over your jaw, trailing down your neck and biting and licking on your sweet spot. You swat at his firm bicep, “You’re gonna leave a mark James, stop it.” Your attempt at scolding him is weak, even to your own ears.

You feel Bucky smirk against your sensitive neck, his wandering hands cupping your ass and shamelessly groping and swatting at you. “Oh really? That’s too bad baby. Gonna be a pain to cover up.” He remarks, voice dripping in cockiness.

You scoff and bite back a whimper when he grinds his undoubtedly hard length against your clothed center. Your hands shoot out to stabilize yourself by holding onto his shoulders, a shiver crawling up your spine when a particularly slow grind nudges your aching clit. “You’re such a bad influence you know that?” Your voice lacks any real conviction. Your hips move in tandem with his, both of you sharing messy kisses and your bodies thrumming with lust and pent up energy. 

“I’ll kill anyone who even thinks about looking at you.” Bucky says assuredly, and you can’t help the mewl that escapes your lips at his words. Your hands shakily going to undo his black jeans as he messily pulls yours pants down, being considerate enough not to rip them considering there was still a little more than an hour until the SHIELD training day was over. “Bucky I need you, need you to please-” Your voice is shaky and desperate, as you struggle to unbutton his jeans. He shushes you gently, cooing at you sweetly as he easily unbuttons his jeans, just enough for you to promptly pull out his erect cock. Your mouth practically waters at his length and girth, and you spit onto your hand and begin rubbing his length, swiping your thumb gently over the tip making him hiss and push his hips into your hand. 

You bite your lip and look up at him through hooded eyes, and he slaps your hand away before tearing your panties in half, the top half covering your swollen clit and the bottom scrap of fabric falling limply against the cool table. You barely have time to scold him for ripping your panties before he’s shoving his whole length inside you in one fluid thrust. Your back arches, your legs wrapping around his waist as your buddy erupts in a shiver, a short scream escaping your lips. He swallows the noise with his mouth pressed against yours as he grunts into your mouth, waiting only a short second before he begins to thrust inside you. His thrusts are slow but hard, making the heavy metal table scrape against the floor with the force of each pass of his hips into yours. 

“You’re mine, mine to touch. Mine to have. Mine to take care of.” Bucky grunts out, his movements picking up in pace as emotion swirls in his voice, his metal hand covering your neck, forcing you to stay upright in a position that allowed you to feel all of him. You sob out, digging your nails into his bicep and nodding your head, already succumbing to that foggy feeling you felt when you were so close to your boyfriend. He tuts at you, swatting your face with his flesh hand with enough force to make you moan out and clench around his length. 

“Nuh-uh sweetheart, you’re not going dumb on me that quick. Use your words, tell me you’re mine. Tell me I’m yours.” His voice is commanding and you force yourself to look at him, pulling on his shirt and tugging on his dog tugs to get him closer, your foreheads pressing against each other as his thrusts continue to get faster. “I’m yours James, only yours. You’re only mine. No one else. Just you.” Your words are slurred as he groans out a good girl in approval and decides that he wants your shirt off. He skillfully manages to slip your navy blue long-sleeve off and unhooks your bra in one motion, freeing your tits to the cold air of the room, forcing the buds into sensitive peaks which Bucky is quick to take advantage of. His hands squeeze and pull at your tits, tugging and pinching cruelly at your nipples making you whine. 

Your bodies are pressed so close to one another, each pull of his hips making his pelvis rub against your aching clit, stray tears streaming down your face and your chest heaving and pushed up against Bucky.

If anyone were to walk in right now the picture would be nothing short of debauched. You completely bare on the table, Bucky completely clothed. Getting absolutely plowed if the screech of the metal against the floor was anything to go by. Your moans get higher in pitch and volume making Bucky grunt, another swat to your cheek making your brain foggy. “Shut the fuck up slut. You want everyone to see you getting fucked like the bitch in heat you are?” But if your moans and increasing wetness are anything to go by, yes, a deep and dark part of you does want that. Bucky laughs at you, shaking his head in faux disbelief and you wrap your lips around his dog tags, enjoying the soothing sensation brought by the cool metal. Bucky looks down at your lips wrapped around the dog tags he never seemed to take off and he let out a wrecked sound. You clench around him at the sound making his rhythm falter.

Before you can even process the loss of his proximity, your back is flat against the table and his dog tags are now around your neck, landing on your chest and glimmering in the dull fluorescent lighting of the room. Bucky slams himself back inside of you, the unmistakable squelch of your wetness filling up the room alongside both of your noises of pleasure. Your high-pitched and pornographic mewls and his low grunts and deep groans. You cry out his name as your head lulls to the side, eyes shutting in bliss as your fingers move to give your aching clit some attention. But Bucky lets out a disappointed grunt, grabbing your jaw in his hand and forcing you to maintain eye contact. “Look away from me again and I won’t let you cum for a fucking week stupid baby.” Bucky threatens. “You better fucking pay attention to who’s fucking you dumb. No need to close your eyes and imagine when you’ve got the real thing right here.”

Each of his words ignites a newfound purpose in Bucky as he pounds into you impossibly harder, his hand swatting against your cheek again and wrapping around your neck, keeping you in place to take all of his thrusts. He knows you always struggle to keep your eyes open and you don’t doubt that he will follow through on his threat. He has always enjoyed testing your weakness and pushing your limits. 

“Feels s’good. You’re so big Jamie. S’big, so good s’too good.” Your words are breathy and frail, your fingers rubbing quick circles around your aching button. A mean laugh rumbles in his chest as he watches the way his dog tags move with your tits, the sight is intoxicating and fuels Bucky to continue his torment. “There she is my dumb little baby. Couldn’t help yourself huh? Can’t help the way your brain goes quiet when I have my dick inside you.” His words should be humiliating but they only spur you on, your fingers on the verge of cramping but the jolts of pleasure are so overwhelming you can’t stop. “Jus’ need you. Need you to make it better. ‘M yours Daddy, only yours.” 

“That’s it baby, I know, I know it feels so good huh. Daddy’s here baby, Daddy’s gonna take care of his needy baby.” Bucky’s head falls back on a moan when you clench around him, your walls pulsing and a ring of cream forming around the base of his cock. Your orgasm was surely just a few moments away and Bucky’s lips curled up in a smirk.

He folds your legs at the knee, sliding you closer to him with the pressure he has on your throat, the angle making him rub against your sweet spot with each deliriously pleasurable thrust. You squeal out his name, getting even louder than before and he shoves his dog tags into your mouth, muffling your garble out unintelligeble pleads to cum. With one hand Bucky squeezes your throat, and with the other he pinches at your nipples, tugging the sensitive flesh before trailing his hand down your body and slapping your hand away from your clit, he moves his lips down to your ears, licking up your earlobe before whispering his command, “Cum. Cum right fucking now or you don’t get to cum at all.” His fingers pinch your clit and the sudden burst of pain has you tensing your legs up, squealing out nonsense around the dog tags in your mouth and reaching your peak. Your body shakes against the table as Bucky pounds you through your high, his words of encouragement falling on deaf ears as you teeter between consciousness and unconsciouness. His body overwhelming your mind and soul. 

His fingers release your throat and you look up at him with watery eyes, bringing him down to rest your foreheads against each other as he nears his own high. Your lips are pressing against each other, “There isn’t a single person in the world I wouldn’t kill for you. I would do anything for you. You are everything to me.” Bucky murmurs in a pussy-drunk stupor. But the words are true, he has said them to you before and will say them a thousand times again. You taught him how to live again, not just survive. 

A broken cry falls from your lips from sensitivity and Bucky’s impassioned thrusts turn sloppy as he moans out your name, pulling you impossibly closer as he fills you with his cum. At the feeling of being completely stuffed by him, your second release is triggered and you shake in his hold as he comes down from his high. He presses lazy kisses against your lips and rubs his hands soothingly up and down your body, easing you out of your submissive state. He gently pulls himself out, using the handkerchief he carries around to wipe your thighs clean, but letting his cum keep your pussy messy. He quickly wipes himself off and helps you dress yourself. 

A few more giggly kisses and you’re pretty much ready to go back down to the gym. Just in time to catch the final thing on today’s agenda: sparring. Bucky walks one step behind you, his hand back again on your lower back protectively as a path is cleared to the front of the ring where your friends are supervising Marcus and another recruit preparing for the second round of their match. Natasha and Wanda offer you knowing smirks and you roll your eyes with heat creeping up cheeks as you shyly glance up at Bucky through your eyelashes to find him already looking at you with a stupid smile. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek and watches with intent as Steve and Sam coach their respective agents. 

“Looking strong, Marcus!” Bucky calls out and you swat his chest making him laugh. Marcus takes one look at you, Bucky’s dog tags now around your neck and falling on your shirt, teeth imprints on your neck, and swollen lips. Poor Marcus falters, and the other recruit takes advantage of his distraction and easily tackles him to the ground, winning the second round. Bucky takes a single step closer to the ring where Sam is helping Marcus up, and the smirk on your arrogant boyfriend’s face is adorable. “Better luck next time buddy,” he says supportively. Sam flicks Bucky in the forehead, unable to hide the smile on his face, “Dumbass.”

[gremlingottoosilly]

Rent-a-girlfriend!Reader that only keeps accepting Loser!Konig's offers because of just how much he's willing to pay

The thing is—you can't even say he has such weird kinks or quirks that he has to pay for company. Yes, he wears the mask...but honestly, every glimpse of his face you get is kind of roughly handsome, and at least he has the sensibility for a man not forcing others to look at his mug. He likes to nuzzle in your chest or shoulder, mask still on, and you sort of enjoy feeling his warm breath on your skin. You also enjoy the way he always pays double after some intimate interactions and skin contact, even if you didn't have sex after the date. You almost felt bad for milking poor guy dry. He is obsessive and behaves like a loser, but it all compensates with the money he pays you. It didn't even seem like the money mattered to him, he wasn't one of those losers who would spend all of their savings of a camgirl - it almost looked like he had too much money to deal with, opting to spend it all on making you his pretty spoiled princess. You just have to wrap your arm around his and point your finger in the direction of a thing you want - and he'd pay for it. As long as you're okay with talking to the cashiers on your own, that is, since he hates unnecessary social interactions. He has weird kinks, that's for fucking sure. It all started with simple panty sniffing, with him buying you expensive lingerie sets only to steal them back so he could probably use them to jerk off. It then proceeded to making you call him sir in bed and respond like he was your drill sergeant and not the guy who drills his monstrous cock in you...and you can't forget about his raging size kink, either. Doesn't matter if you're on a chubby or thin size. This guy is going to bend you over and take you like a doll without you having to do anything in bed. It's weird, just how meek and quiet he is in everything but the bed - and how it seems that he just takes out all of his frustrations on your poor pussy. At least the payment is good enough you're willing to let this guy eat you out for hours and cum in his pants during it. Just don't be surprised when one day he'll simply snatch you away.

[a-b-riddle]

Not me imagining medic reader who acts weird around Ghost.

At first everyone thinks that you’re just weirded out. 6’4 wall of a man in a skull mask. His eyes covered in black makeup and eyes such a deep brown they’re almost black. Anyone in their right mind would be on edge.

But then as time progresses it doesn’t stop. You don’t ease up no matter how many times you’ve been around Ghost. Eventually the 141 begins to suspect something much more sinister.

Theories of knowing something about Ghost you shouldn’t. Are you working for Makarov and worried? Your eyes never leave him anytime he enters a room. Your voice wavering anytime he asks you a question. You’re not like that with the others. You’re hiding something. And they know it.

Johnny is the one you’ve gotten closest to in the 141. The one who wants to believe you’re not a traitor. You’re Birdie for Christ’s sake. Their bird, as they call you. You couldn’t be betraying them. He’s able to convince the guys to let him get you drunk. See if you slip up.

It’s a quiet night on base. Johnny had manage to get flavored vodka imported. Enticing you to come have a drink in his barracks.

And boy, do you.

You get too tipsy to notice how off Johnny seems. How his voice is softer, more alluring. You also down notice the phone face down on the table, serving as a live walkie-talkie between him and the others listening in Price’s office.

Johnny and you bullshit around. Talking about F1 racing, the need for more help in the medbay and even what your plans are when you get back home.

Eventually, he can’t take it anymore. He needs to know.

“What’s your deal with the Simon?” He finally asks. His question grants you pause, almost instantly sobering you up. Johnny sees it in your eyes. His heart breaking because he begins to believe he was wrong.

“Hen,” his hand grabs yours, when you don’t say anything. “I know something is going on.” You try and pull away but he doesn’t let go.

“Have-” you begin, trying to figure out how to tell him. Johnny is your friend. He wouldn’t care. But you fail to come up with the words. “Fuck.”

“Please.” He begs. “You know you can tell me.” You wait. Contemplating if you should tell him. But then it could mean losing any respect you had earned with them.

“You can’t judge me.” You made him promise, tears beginning to well in your eyes.

“I won’t.” He promises, offering a squeeze of reassurance. He knew that the moment you confessed to whatever it was you were hiding, the team would be in there. He knew what would happen to you. And although there were no romantic feelings he held toward you, he still cared.

You took a deep breath.

“It’s the mask.” You confessed. “It’s hot.” Now it was Johnny’s turn to pause.

The mask?

“What?” He asked in disbelief, pulling his hand off of yours. “What do you mean it’s hot?” “You’re worried that he’s sweating underneath it.”

“I want to fuck him.” It felt like a weight lifted the moment your confession of lust escaped your lips.

Johnny sat there, knowing his Captain, fellow Sergeant and, most importantly, his Lieutenant were listening on the other end of the phone.

“Simon.” he clarified. “Ye want to fuck Simon.”

“I mean if he keeps the mask on.” You shrug, looking at his bewildered expression. “It’s a kink, Johnny. Some people like feet or being led around on a dog leash.” You down the rest of the sweetened liquor, cringing as the last sip makes your stomach flip. “Men in masks do it for me. It’s a thing now. Lots of women like it.”

He doesn’t say anything. The room filled with uncomfortable silence until he breaks out in laughter.

“If you say anything, I will murder you and we both know I can make it look like an accident.” You threaten.

“Feckin’ hell.” He sighs, wiping tears from his eyes. “This isn’t how I expected the conversation to go.”

“Well,” you say standing, needing a moment to get your bearings. “It’s also over. I’m calling it a night.”

“I’ll walk ye back to yer room.” He says standing.

“No need.” You wave off. “I’m good.”

He knows you’re right. But now guilt eats away at him for even thinking you were a traitor. So he lets you go, listening to the sound of your footsteps fading as you walk down the empty corridor.

Several minutes later the others join him in his barracks. None of them saying something until, Johnny looks at Simon.

“Looks like the little Bird has a thing for you, Lt.”

Simon rolls his eyes.

Thankful that his mask is hiding his shit eating grin.

[babygirl-riley]

Welcome Home

You surprise Simon at the base instead of being at home. You also think about how far he has come to acceptance.

Warnings: mentions of sexual acts, fluff, dad!simon, angst, pregnancy

“I’ve fallen for it, I’ve fallen for it somehow.”

A/N: THE PART TWO DAD!SIMON FROM @ave661 IS KILLLINGGGG ME! Seriously chokehold she has me in ALL the time with her art. 😭

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family edition

You called Price beforehand, asked him if it was alright to surprise Simon. You wanted to show up at the base with your baby girl waiting for him. Like you always do. Thankfully and full heartedly he agreed, he even added that he is excited to see his niece. On the way to the base you felt excitement as you played music for both you and your baby.

Your baby gabbles as she plays with hanging baby toys on her car seat. Simon has been gone for a month, it has been so long and you were so excited. He missed having her first tooth, which he will be so excited to see.

Once you got you and your child out of the car you headed to the inside of the base. “141 will be landing in 5 minutes ma’am.” A man said guiding you to the tarmac. “Captain Price said to meet them there.”

You followed the solider to the direction of the tarmac. You knew very well where it was at, a year ago you were on the team for 141 but decided to retire once you found out you were pregnant. Memories littered the hallways as you held your baby close.

“No.” He mumbled as you both stood in your room. He didn’t move for a moment, you thought he was going to leave and not come back for hours. Simon doesn’t do well with emotions but the last couple of months, he has been able to open up more. Now this. You didn’t know how he was going to react let alone what he was going to do.

It was clear, two lines, one word, 6 tests. You and Simon have been in secret for 2 years, established a relationship in a year. You played with your hands as nerves started to kick in. “I thought you were on birth control.” Simon said looking up at you, his eyes only to be shown. The skull mask looking at you.

“I am.” You said your heart slowly hurting, you knew that he never wanted a kid. You knew of his past so this was a joke for the both of you. It was frowned upon when a lieutenant would be sleeping with their sergeant. Hell damn near court marshaled.

Simon looked back down at the tests. He can’t. He won’t. His mind racing a million miles an hour. How could he explain this one to Price? How could you hide a belly on the force? Is there a way for it to be a secret anymore? He cursed himself for loving the fact that he could breed you. It was a new found kink, with him thinking of his cum coating your walls. Simon never broadcast it to you. Telling you that seeing a belly got him feral, thinking about how your body would react to his gift. But…It’s just…is it too soon? Was he ready? Surely he couldn’t be.

“I can get…”

“No,” He cut you off before looking up at you. “This…Not that. ‘M,” his voice trailed. No abortion, he won’t put your body through hell just because both of you didn’t want to wrap it. “I just-I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t either,” You whispered walking slowly up to him. “But we can figure this out?”

Simon nodded once still looking at the tests. You waited as he stood there and sighed. “We have to tell Price now.”

“Here is the tarmac,” The solider said breaking you from your thoughts. “It looks like they have just landed.”

You mumbled a thank you as soldiers came out one by one from the plane. All covered in dirt or blood, tired written on their faces. You frowned knowing that Simon felt the same, it couldn’t have gone the way it suppose to.

You smiled as you walked out watching Gaz come out first, happy surprise on his face. He looked to the side of him to see Soap, who smiled at you nodded. Price smiled, heading towards the direction you were before stopping. Simon, walked out last, almost stopped in his tracks.

Smile beaming on his face underneath the skull mask. His girls. He be-lined to you and your baby girl. His heart beating quickly, as excitement coursed through his veins.

Price stood as both of his teammates broke the news. He had his suspicions of them fucking around but not together. He itches his beard as your tears start to mellow out. Simon was not looking at him but folding his arms while leaning against the wall.

It was like two of his kids came home after school to get hounded at. It was amusing if Price wasn’t angry. Yes. He was at first, his lieutenant and his best sniper in a bit of a bind. She has to be discharged no way will Price NOR Simon let her go out in the field. Especially since they voiced they are keeping the kid.

“We keep it low,” Price finally spoke watched as both of you looked up. “We have to slowly discharge you, not try to have eyes on the situation until then. No missions for you.”

You nodded, first time every has he seen you so shy. Timid. Usually you had confidence written all over you. “Yes sir.” You mumbled looking away.

Price looked at Simon. “I want to have a discussion with you,” He looked at you as you stared at him. You both are young, younger than him anyway. He seen how Simon’s demeanor changed throughout the years when you came on the force. Of course no one else saw it, but Price did. He always knew. “Dismissed Sargent.”

Your baby squealed with delight as she bounced in your arms. “Da! Da!” She yelled as Simon walked over, having heads turn to see the little baby showed her excitement. Simon did take note that she knew who he was and in fact used ‘dada.’

Simon almost damn near sprinted as he walked up to both of you. You let him take your baby as he grabbed her, she screamed laughed, as he rose her to the air. Holding her sides gently but firm. She is so tiny compared to him, she kicked her feet softly in the air, laughing her little head off. Simon loves that sound, the sound of pure joy coming from her. To the point he didn’t give a damn who was around them. Simon was never a shower when it came to his private life, but when she was around wow, he would make sure everyone knew who she was.

Simon sat across the table from you, your bump more noticeable, 6 months to be exact. He still couldn’t believe that what was growing inside you was his. Part of him. Something that he would have never thought would be done. Or have. You have become more aware and accepting of having the child. Yet he still hasn’t.

“I know it will take time Si,” You said knowing always what he was thinking. Simon snapped his eyes up at you, he felt guilt for sure. You were just honorable discharged and he stayed in the force. “I can’t make you feel happy about this. But…But I know eventually you will.”

He didn’t believe you until one night he laid between your legs as you rubbed the back of his head. Simon chuckled lightly at the tv show you were both watching right when it happened,felt a small poke to his head, he froze, you felt him tense. “What…what that?”

You giggled lowly as you rubbed your belly. “It’s the baby,” He still didn’t move when he felt it again. “She moves a lot when you make any sort of noise.” Simon rose slightly, looking up at you, curiously. You grabbed his hand and placed it where she was. His eyes trained on his hand. “Say something.” You whispered.

Simon looked at you unsure before clearing his throat. “Uh, hello baby girl.” It took a second before he felt the bump move to his hand. A soft graze. He snapped his eyes up at you and tears brimming your eyes, nodding. Encouraging him to continue. Simon’s eyes started to water, everything hitting, even when she isn’t out here she was wanting him. Knowing that he is her dad. And she was his baby.

His hand rubbed your belly. “‘Ight ass kicker. I’m happy to hear ya too.”

“Hello my angels,” He said as slowly held her close to him. Her head cradled inside of his neck. Her hands gripping his uniform. He placed a hand on the back of her hand holding her close. You smiled as he placed his other gloved hand on your cheek. “Why ya ‘ere?”

“I couldn’t wait at home,” You stated as people passed the both of you. “She couldn’t either,” you bumped your shoulder against his. “Told you it was dada.” You teased talking about the last time you both were on the phone. Her screaming ‘da da da,’ knowing damn well it was her daddy on the phone. Simon would tease and say that she got your intelligence since she was only 5 months.

Simon chuckled rolling his eyes, turning his head as she rose from his shoulder. She started towards his skull mask gripping the bottom of it. “Not yet sweethear,’” he whispered gently grabbing her hands. “We are gonna debrief it shouldn’t take too long.”

“Lass,” You laughed as the scottish came up from behind Simon. Slapping his back. “Oh well hello little miss.” He scratched softly underneath her chin. She laughed again shaking her head as she clung onto her dad. “Yer playing hard to get now?” He teased and looked at you.

“Hey Johnny,” You laughed reaching for your baby. She came to you with ease, which you mentally sighed in relief, hoping that she wouldn’t ball her little eyes out when she watched her dad leave. “We will wait on the cafeteria.”

Simon placed his forehead against yours. “It will be quick.” He whispered.

You nodded as you watched them all file into the base. Your baby holding onto you cooing. “Why don’t you ever get that excited to see me,” You playfully glared poking her stomach. She giggled swatting your finger away. “Brat.” You laughed taking her and you to the cafeteria.

[simonsslut]

meeting simon in the army.

18+ MDNI || nsfw || f!reader || oneshot/drabble || masterlist

wc: around 4.8k

cw: eventual smut, unprotected p in v, lil massage trope, spit kink, simon being his own enemy, reader being oblivious, simon loves tits, simon’s kinda mean at first but sweet at the end-ish, not proofread.

Lieutenant Riley is familiar with the process of adding a new addition to their little task force. but just because he's familiar with it, doesn't mean he's a fan of it.

a new member, a new person means that he has to most likely deal with another soap of sorts. don't get it wrong, he's okay with soap, but that doesn't mean he enjoys the constant questions soap seems to ask about him, even when he knows they irritate him, but that won't stop his curiosity.

you're confident when you show up to the meeting room, nothing new. recruits are either confident in themselves or they're completely terrified and it'll be written all over their faces.

soap is quick to befriend you, both of you snipers and demolition experts after all. it gives him a whole new buddy to talk with. simon takes this as a good sign, maybe he won't have to spend much time showing your around and telling you about the team and how things work here if soap is gonna spend all his time with you. right? wrong.

Price assigns soap on a mission with another task force soap had recently worked with before TF141. meaning that Simon is going to have to spend every free waking moment he has with you. and for a guy like Simon, this is hell. but don't take it the wrong way, he's like this with everyone.

you're quick to find the large man rude, dismissive. you'll ask barely personal questions and he'll shrug it off and blatantly ignore you. will roll his eyes or just walk away mid-conversation (which was one-sided anyway).

maybe you talked too much? had you asked him too many questions? maybe he just didn't like you for absolutely zero reason. you decided to stop thinking too much about it. you didn't do anything wrong, maybe he's just a natural-born asshole.

Soap had mentioned something about the lieutenant having a stick somewhere deep up his ass and to not worry too much about how he treats you.

however, after telling yourself you'd stop losing sleep over it, you continued.

maybe he just wasn't used to having a woman on his team. They are all men after all. but that wouldn't be professional, plus the others aren't like that with you. they kinda just treat you like their own. they knew about your background, and what you have done, and they respected you for it, so why couldn't he?

simon knows better than most about your background, he had to study your file after Price mentioned your recruitment.

"weapons of choice - melee; knives, axe."

a shared opinion.

he trains with you to see how advanced you really are. weapon training and all that is fine, but sparring? this has to be a joke. that mountain of a man versus you? you've got muscle to you, yeah, but even soap going against simon is an evident loss. and soap is a big guy.

you start off with Gaz. he's also tall and well built, but he's the more common build of soldiers. you guys spar for an hour, or two, and then you take a break.

you don't think much about who your next spar round will be with, so the anxiousness doesn't begin to settle in until ghost's rough voice calls you over to the mat. he's the only one there. and it settles in.

you look over at Gaz and the look on his face is one of pity, your face drops.

it's not even 30 seconds into the round when you're already dropped to the ground. the mat feels like concrete when you hit your back on it.

"c'mon, get up." ghost says in an almost pissed off way.

you groan and roll over, quickly getting back up on your feet. "no mercy?" you ask in a huff. "you won't get mercy when you're fighting for your life in the field, you should know this, sergeant." he states dryly, but the way he said 'sergeant' sounded like an insult rolling off his tongue.

after 30 minutes of repeatedly losing, you admit defeat. but at least he stays with you after hours when the others have left, leaving you both alone so you don't have to keep losing in front of a crowd.

3 months of dry responses, frequent scoldings, straight-up constant attitude from the man and not many interactions besides from when he was ordering you around or lecturing you about a fuck up in training or on a mission.

and even though he wouldn't interact with you much, it somehow seemed that he was always on your ass, always watching to see what your next fuck up would be, always so observant. because why the hell were his eyes always on you? every time you'd glance over at him, he'd already be looking at you with that dark 1000-yard stare, arms crossed and sitting across any room you were in at the moment.

3 months is what it takes for him to not act like a complete brooding asshole towards you even for just a moment. reason? you saved his life.

sort of.

simon was clearing a wide area in a warehouse on a mission and it seems one of the men there seemed to blend in far better than anyone else could. Simon was almost too late, almost the one standing at the receiving end of a bullet to the head, but you had him. and you saved him.

neither of you thought too much about it though, after all, it is your job to have each other's backs in the field. he only gave you a gruff "thank you" when he brushed passed you towards the exit. but you took that thank you as a sign that he didn't absolutely despise you like you had thought he did for the past 3 months.

or so you thought. not much changed afterwards. but at least whenever you'd start a conversation, he'd just stare at you instead of walking off. but he'd always stay quiet. you wanted to give up, you should've given up. but something deep inside you had you pushing.

what it was wasn't so obvious at the time.

but that's probably because you were so oblivious.

you didn't know him like the boys did, you were new. so no one could've blamed you for not seeing the obvious frustration you caused him. soap on the other hand thought it was bloody comedic.

you always assumed the triple checks on your comms and positions were just because he didn't trust you enough to know what you were doing. because why would you think anything else with the way he behaved towards you?

the way he'd suddenly appear when a private was up and flirting with you. he'd come and scold you for having chitchat when you should've been doing paperwork, his jaw tensed. he'd look behind you to give the private a glare that you would've assumed was a 'get back to work' glare and not the threatening glare it actually was, because why would you think otherwise?

when you all went out to the pub for a drink after a long exhausting mission to relax a bit, but you hadn't had alcohol in so long so you didn't think to slow down, eventually blacking out on Simon's shoulder, and ending up in your quarters at the end of the night, boots off and snuggly tucked in under your sheets.

what you did notice is that you'd never be assigned to missions that ghost wasn't on. you caught on eventually but you never mentioned it, too annoyed with him to start an argument you knew you'd lose.

but when you're all at the pub on another night, soap and gaz over by the pool table, drunkenly betting against each other, and price long gone back to the base and having called it an early night, leaving the two of you at the table alone, it slips out.

he's been ignoring your attempted starts of a conversation all night, the alcohol had given you the motivation you needed to try again, but you've had enough of the silent treatment.

"hey, i've noticed I only go on missions that you're on.." he tenses. "'s that because you don't trust me? or somethin?"

he doesn't respond as per usual, and you know he's already annoyed with you but you keep pushing.

"you can be a real prick, y'know?" you mumble out, earning a side glance from him, his hand on the table, fingers tapping on his empty glass. he stays quiet.

"I just don't understand why you dislike me or whatever. I haven't done anything to you personally, I don't think.." you trail off, furrowing your brows as if in thought. he just stares down at you.

"you're a real pain in my ass" you then state rather confidently. he raises his brow at this before looking down at his empty glass and muttering a "Seems we've got that in common."

you roll your eyes and groan, moving to grab your beer but he moves it further up the table before you can reach it.

"hey-" you start but he interrupts, "you've 'ad enough." he grumbles out and you scoff, standing up from the chair and walking over to where Soap and Gaz are laughing it up with each other.

but maybe he's had a bit too much to drink too.

because the moment a man starts flirting with you at the bar, his hand just a bit too touchy, Simon appears, his hand is gripping the man's shoulder and pulling him back with an angered "back off."

you can't even manage out a "what the hell-?" before he's grabbing your bicep and dragging you out of the pub. you stop protesting rather quickly, too tired to continue. you just let him drag you all the way back to the base where he only lets go of you when he reaches the doorstep of your barracks building.

"sleep. now. don't wanna deal with your lazy tired ass tomorrow when you're moping around because you didn't get enough rest." he grunts out before abruptly turning in his place and leaving.

it's the next week when you're in the break room sitting across from Soap who's on his phone and drinking his coffee when you voice your troubles. "I can't deal with him anymore, Soap, really. he gives me such a hard time and I don't understand why," you practically whine to him.

"bloke doesn't know what to do with you when you practically give him a hard on all the time." he says it so plainly. as if it's a common fact, no big deal.

though you, of course, take it as a joke.

"Oh shut up, I'm serious." you groan through a chuckle and he just looks up at you and smirks before excusing himself to go back to his duties, leaving you there to mope at the wall.

the hell does that even mean?

luckily for you, you forget all about your short conversion in the break room, your mind too occupied from the busy week to care about a little dumb joke that soap told.

maybe you should've sat to think about said joke for longer.

you zone out while you do paperwork, your mind running on autopilot so that you don't pay attention to the time on the clock running past 11:30pm.

you hands hurt. your wrists hurt. and your back is sore from uncomfortably hunching over this old desk in this dinky chair that doesn't even spin properly.

you're too tired and too caught up in mentally complaining about everything to notice the tall figure standing in the doorway of the office you're working.

so when he speaks, voice baritone and accent thick, it scares the absolute living shit out of you. letting out a short yell and flinging your pen across the room, you look over at him.

you roll your eyes, too tired to even deal with him right now, preparing for him to lecture you about how sleeping late is bad for you even though literally everyone on base knows that he has the most fucked schedule of them all.

"I know it's late, I don't wanna hear it. this is the only free time I had to do this." you explain, your voice low and tired.

"didn't say anything." he responds and you glare up at him, and he knows.

he walks across the room and picks up the pen that you flung, his heavy steps making their way over to you and handing you back your pen.

he hasn't done or said anything threatening, so then why does it feel like he did?

you whisper a small 'thank you' before looking back down at your sheet and writing a few things down. he just stands there, staring down at your with crossed arms, observing. always observing. that's all he does. all he ever does.

you try to not let it get to you but he's just so intimidating.

you clench your jaw and breathe for a moment before focusing back on your paper. but just as you do that, he rounds the desk and stands behind your chair.

he grabs the chair, pulling it back a bit before his voice demands out, "stand,". you don't hesitate a moment before standing up quickly.

silence.

why does it feel like ages before he finally speaks??

"you're tense." he states and you furrow your brows because what the hell is happening. "y-yeah, I guess?"

the air is thick.

you're so caught up in empty thoughts that you don't hear what he says. "sorry, what'd you say?" you ask but it comes out a whisper without you intending for it to.

"may I?"

you're not sure what he means but you still slowly nod.

you suddenly freeze and your eyes go wide when you feel his palm wrap around your hair and move it to the side, his other hand resting in the crevice between your shoulder and neck, bare.

he's not wearing the glove.

his hand is warm when he suddenly squeezes you there, checking to see just how tense you are and your mind is blank. your thoughts have evaporated and you can't fucking move, because what the hell is happening!?

"why're you so bloody tense?" he asks, his voice so fucking deep that it makes your skin warm up. you've always hated the effect that his voice alone has on you.

'maybe because you're touching me?' is what you think to yourself.

"I don't know? work?" you sound so unsure of yourself that it feels embarrassing.

he mutters a quiet "yeah." while he continues to massage the area.

you wouldn't say this is a complete 180º from the way he's been treating you for the past couple months, but... this is a complete fucking 180º from the way he's been treating you these past couple months.

but you can't deny how fucking good it feels. his hands are so big and warm. the roughness of them surprisingly adding so much more to the massage and it feels so. good.

you can't help the slight moan that escapes your lips when you dip your head forward, giving him more space to work with.

ghost would halt his movements but that would only make you suspicious of what's happening to him behind you he clenches his jaw hard, his entire body tensing as he feels his pants grow tight and fuck is he fighting back a groan.

he did this to himself. he should've just minded his business and muttered an order to you like he usually would. he should've put up the asshole act instead of strolling in and offering a goddamn massage because he would never in his right mind actually do this.

he's barely slept for the past three days, so he doesn't really have control over his own actions, especially when it comes to you. it's always you that gets him like this, only you.

it's quiet for so long while he just massages your shoulders. usually It would be awkward, but this time it's just comfortable.

when he finishes, his hands remain and you start to actually snap back to reality on where you are, who's behind you, and what's going on. you don't move, hell you barely breathe. how could you when you could feel every breath he takes hit the skin on the back of your neck or how you can feel the heat radiating off of him while he stands behind you as if he's a human furnace or something.

there's always been tension. whether it was negative or positive, you were never completely 100% sure which. but it was always there. and it bothered the fuck out of the both of you.

you feel his thumb caress your nape. just a small movement. you wouldn't've noticed if you weren't hyper focused on every fibre of his being standing right behind you, not caring for your personal space despite him always getting pissed about not having enough of his own.

you don't know how to move on from this moment. there're no words in your mouth, your body frozen still under his gaze, under his touch.

you want to say something, anything. but you don't know what.

"ghost," you start, but he doesn't answer, he just rubs his thumb over again. "ghost." you try again.

silence.

"simon." he stops.

"what are you doing?" you turn your head to the side when you whisper this, looking at him stand behind you out the corner of your eye, and he stares right back.

after his silence, you go to move but he stops you, his hands grabbing your arms and keeping you in place. you go to shake him off but when you lean your body back, you feel something against your ass and your breath hitches.

he shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw, he knows you felt it, and he knows he's fucked when he lets out a quiet groan.

"it seems you’ve been stressed too..." you mumble out and his grip on you only tightens. you don't think before you nudge your ass against him again but with purpose and his breathing stutters.

"Don't." he demands through gritted teeth, but you only do it again and he doesn't stop you.

he then pushes you forward and you gasp, your crotch hitting the desk edge as you bend over the desk.

he doesn't do anything for a few moments as he thinks over what he's doing. he's your superior. this is wrong. so why does it feel so good to drag his hand down your back.

he then suddenly lets go of you and backs up, confusing you in the process. you stand back up and turn to stare at him, your brows furrowed and you open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

the way you look at him, it's as if there's hope in your eyes and that only spurs him on to do what he does next. he moves his hand up to raise the bottom of his mask up to rest just over his nose. he then quickly loops his arm around your waist and pulls you in for your lips to meet his in a kiss born off of sexual frustration.

you're quick to wrap one of your arms around his neck, not caring at all for what this means because god it feels so good.

he groans against your lips and pushes you back against the desk, lifting you a bit to sit you down on it before he mumbles against your lips.

"you gon' let me do this?"

the man, your lieutenant, your superior who you thought hated you so damn much for the longest time, is asking for your permission as his hand squeezes your thigh.

this is crazy. all of this is crazy. yet you nod.

he spreads your thighs with his hands and stands between them while his mouth moves from your lips down to your jaw and then to your neck, his lips hot and wet against you.

you let him push you back until your back is flat against the desk, his hand moving to grab your hip to keep you in place just as he likes while his other hand loops under the waist band of your pants and palms you over your panties.

you can't help but whimper when he does this which only turns him on more. and he grunts against your neck when he removes his hand only to grind his covered bulge against you.

you huff out as he continues to grind against you, growing in need when heat begins to pool in your core while his hands grip at you tightly as if you'd disappear if he let go. and he's not about to risk that when he finally has you right where he wants you.

you pull at his clothes, a whine slipping from your lips and he knows what you want. one of his hands moves to slide your shirt up your stomach and you let him. when he does get the shirt off of you, he doesn't even go to unclip your bra, instead his hand moves to grab the front of your bra and drags it down, your tits falling out.

he grabs one of your tits and mouths it, sucking, while his other hand moves to pull your pants down.

he backs up and fully pulls your pants off before he's back on you, mouth on your tit while his left hand plays with the other and his right hand slips under the fabric of your panties, feeling how soaked you are.

his thumb applies pressure on your clit which has you already gasping and arching into his touch.

he teases you a bit, wanting to see how desperate you'd get before he actually fucks you with his cock. he slips a digit in and groans against your nipple when he feels how your wet warmth clenches around just his finger.

he adds another and then another, wanting to stretch you out enough for him to squeeze in.

he curls and thrusts his fingers in you, getting to that spongey spot in you that has you moaning and throwing your head back against the desk, whining fro him to finally put it in.

"y'want me?" he asks but you can't even reply.

"I asked if y'want me, love." his voice is gravel when he repeats himself, wanting an answer out of you before he takes this further.

you nod, frantic and and grinding against his palm for more friction against your clit. "y-yes, yes sir, please-" you answer and he feels his cock twitch in his pants.

he moves his lips back up to your neck and removes his hands from you, undoing his pants and pulling himself out, precum beading at his red tip.

you whimper at the sight of it. it's obvious to see how big of a man simon is in general, he's huge. and it seems that so is everything else about him.

he doesn't bother to remove your panties as he's too impatient. instead he just moves them to the side, his finger running down your slit before he brings it to his mouth to get a taste of you, letting out a satisfied hum.

he then brings his hand up to you and orders, "spit", and you do.

he pumps himself a few times to wet it before he aligns with your slit and you inhale when he starts to push in, stretching you out so perfectly for him. so fucking big.

he takes his time pushing into you, his warm breath against your neck when he groans as he bottoms out, deep inside you. “so fucking tight…” he groans through gritted teeth.

you clench around him, your hands slipping under the fabric of his shirt and your nails clawing at the skin on his back, wanting him to move already as you grow impatient and needy.

he does just that, drawing his hips back before thrusting back into you resulting in a yelp from you. and he doesn't stop.

his pace is already above slow and picking up with each time he hammers back into you, curses and moans falling from his lips like he's in heaven, because he is.

your lips meet his again and you moan into his mouth with each thrust. he makes out with you like a man starved, like he's been wanting this for so long…you under him while he fucks into you like it's the last thing he'll ever do.

the only sounds in the room being the squelching of your pussy as he thrusts into you and both of your moans. if anyone was walking down the hallway at this hour which is unlikely, they'd most definitely hear what you two are doing.

he moves his hand down and presses his thumb to your clit while he continues to fuck into you, rubbing it in circles which has you crying out through moans, tears of pleasure threatening to spill out the corners of your eyes.

your breathing becomes ragged as your back arches deeper into him, your hips bucking against his to meet his pace while he groans and nips at the skin on your neck, “takin’ me so well… s’ fuckin good f’me…” he moans and it sets your skin on fire.

he's close and so are you.

your fingers move under the back of the mask to pull at his short hair and he let's you do it, trusting you to not pull the mask off.

your lips against his ear, letting him hear all your pretty sounds and it only drives him further, his pace keeping steady, knowing just what you need when you moan out "i'm close..so close.." and he knows it too as he feels you clench tightly around him.

he surprises you when he places his thumb in your mouth when you moan, flattening it against your tongue and grunting a “open f’me, yeah?” and you do without hesitation, opening your mouth nice and wide enough for him to spit on your tongue. he doesn’t even have to tell you to swallow before you do it automatically, earning a smirk from him before he kisses you again.

the combination of his thumb rubbing in circles against your clit and him hammering into you has your body stuttering and spasming, feeling like you're getting possessed as you let out a strangled and broken quiet scream as you finally come undone beneath him, your vision going for a few moments while he fucks you through your orgasm.

you continue to moan when he keeps pumping into you after your orgasm, chasing his own high while he grunts out "'m gonna come... gonna come on your tummy, love.." before he quickly pulls out of you, leaning back up and pumping his cock a few times before he releases his load on your stomach followed by his heavy breaths.

he stares at you for a moment, his chest rising and lowering in heavy breaths before he leans over you to grab the tissue box in the corner of the desk and wipes his cum off of you.

he puts your panties back in place and steps back, handing you your pants. he shoves his cock back into his pants and then watches you pull yours back on, his arms crossed.

now that the foggy feeling in your mind is gone, you're shy as you stand under his gaze.

you just fucked your lieutenant.

he licks his lip before pulling the mask back down and sitting back onto the chair. you're confused for a moment before he nods his head in the direction of the door and mutters a "go t'sleep. it's late."

you look at the door and then back at him, furrowing your brows in confusion. "but my paperwork-" he interrupts you before you can finish your sentence. "I'll do your paperwork. now go to bed. tha's an order." he instructs and you stand there absolutely dumbfounded before you actually register his words.

you slowly nod and he clenches his jaw before he looks at the short stack of paperwork on the side of the desk, grabbing one and beginning to work on it, but you're still there.

"thought I told you t-" he pauses when you lean down to place a kiss on the fabric over where his temple is, taking him by surprise as it shuts him up.

you then give him a sweet smile, your hand sliding down his muscular arm before you turn around and walk out the small office, leaving him to do your paperwork after he fucked you so well just a moment ago on that very desk.

horny brain = ©simonsslut 2023 — do not steal!

simon experiencing blue balls too many times in secret bc he's stubborn.

[moondirti]

kyle yearns for his captain's approval. you're the perfect medium through which he can secure it.

featuring: gaz x fem!reader x price. very consensual. fondling. inspection. fluff. praise kink. objectification. cucking? anal play. mentions of dp and breeding. 4k words of nonsense.

when price asks gaz if he's got anyone at home, gaz answers.

truthfully. he'd be hesitant to admit that he does to anyone else – soap especially, what with his track record of worming his way into people's pants – but his captain is... his captain. jonathan price. a real force of nature, cursed with an uncanny determinism and a habit of getting what he wants regardless of if those around him are willing. gaz knows that price will find out eventually; when the ring he's been planning to purchase for months finds it's way onto your finger, and he requests a change be made to the dependants section of his paperwork. perhaps before then too, if he really did some digging. but gaz also knows that, if there were anyone to trust with this precious knowledge, it'd be him.

so, he tells him about the little number he's got tucked away in a home in south oxfordshire. it's the lazy afternoon before a big mission, and he shouldn't be drinking but he is, a tumbler cradled between his palms and the burn of rye whiskey loosening his tongue. price doesn't speak, just listens, as the sergeant gradually devolves into more and more detail about your meeting, your courtship, the work you distract yourself with when he's not around. and despite his reverence, he admits it all breathlessly, a sheepishness pervading every word. how is he expected to keep his composure when the air is so heavy? unrelenting scrutiny and the potent waft of cigar-smoke draw a hot flush to his skin, the older man humming every so often as a prompt for him to continue.

he wants to, oddly enough. gaz is a reticent man, second only to ghost when it comes to keeping his life private. but something about this circumstance has him ready to lay it all bare. he wants to tell price about how you kiss his neck, the wicked fucking ways in which you use your mouth to milk him dry. he wants to pull out his phone, scroll through the hidden album full of pictures of your tits, of home-made films that paint you in a cum-covered, dazzling light. he wants price to know that he chose right, wants to hear the praise whispered in his ear as his captain lays a sturdy clap onto his back.

instead, he shrugs.

"not much more to tell, cap."

"damn shame." price taps his cigar to rid of the ashes. "sounds like a proper match, garrick. good for you."

and it's enough. a big enough lump of wood to keep the needy fire in his belly roaring. he shifts in his seat to dissuade the heat, rubbing his jaw in contemplation like he hasn't already thought of a perfect way to reap more.

"tell you what, sir. we survive this next assignment, i'll bring you over to meet 'er."

it's a hairbreadth escape, but they do manage to make it back alive, albeit a bit more scarred than they once were. gaz gets home late at night to find you awake, waiting on him despite the incredibly short notice he'd given you for his arrival. it's there – in the foyer, his nose buried in your neck as you babble on about how much you missed him, and what you'll make for breakfast to celebrate, and questions like hey, are you okay? that cut looks fresh or when was the last time you slept? – that he breaks the news. you'll be having his captain over for dinner in two week's time.

of course you're overjoyed. you've been begging to meet the people he risks his life with ever since he told you what he did for work. the planning is immediate. you're dumping recipes on him the next morning, asking for his opinion on what appetiser, main, and dessert your guest of honour would enjoy best. and what's his poison, anyway? i can get my hands on a nice bottle of scotch if you think it'd be worth it. kyle doesn't have the heart to tell you that nothing you'll do would matter much, that price has already taken a liking to you. besides, if anything, your homemaking ability makes him chub up in his pants. best not to rob himself of that delight.

the night arrives as quick as it had been put forward. gaz has to dodge your attempts to put a tie on him, stifles your complaints with a kiss and insists that it's not that kind of dinner party. you're confused (bless you) but flit around making last minute preparations in your bustier midi-dress anyway, kitten-heels clicking against the polished hardwood floors. at a certain point, he can tell that you're fussing over nothing and pulls you by the hand to stand by the doorway with him.

"there's something i didn't mention earlier." he whispers when you're finally settled, tucking his index finger under your chin. your brows knit anxiously. he pecks the canyons between them, stroking your bottom lip until the frazzled energy bleeds from you.

"why would you wait? there's not enough t–"

"not exactly something you can plan for, doll. s'just gonna happen." when you fail to push him for more context, he sighs. "price is expecting to see you."

"sure... that's the whole point, isn't it?"

"no, sweetheart." gaz's free hand wraps around your waist, lowering until it reaches the plush sweel of your ass. his touch lays breadcrumbs for you to follow, leading you down the very depraved path he's trekked a million times the past few weeks. "i mean all of you."

your lips part in realization. oh. he's scared straight for a second, heart hammering like it always does when he reveals a darker fantasy to you. but you merely smile – anxious, sure, pupils clouded with fresh concern, but a smile nonetheless – and accept his admission gracefully.

"and you want me to let him?"

gaz nods. "if you'd please."

you place a chaste kiss on his cheek, careful not to smear your makeup onto his clean-shaven skin. "okay."

he visibly slackens, an edge of playfulness cutting it's way back into his tone. "what's say we take those panties off, make things easier when the time arrives?"

"can' remember the last time i had a beef welly this good, love. family recipe?"

"yes, actually! but it took me some time to perfect for my own. the original called for sherry in the duxelle, but i always thought wine was better suited."

kyle doesn't know if he's ever been more proud of you.

you're a vision. the paradigm of charm. he half feared things to would be awkward following your conversation at the doorway, but aside from the first few minutes of price's arrival – the time it took everyone to thaw the ice of unfamiliarity – you've been anything but stilted. in fact, he worries that you missed the true implication of his request – of the direction things will take later – given the way you laugh openly. the ease in which you bridge conversation topics. your attentiveness, eyes roving over both your boyfriend and his captain to ensure everyone has everything they need. you certainly don't act like a girl who's going to be nakedly appraised tonight. all the expected clumsiness, the stumbling over your own words, replaced instead by eloquence and quick wit.

sweet girl. bloody... beautiful, darling girl.

price seems to think so too. he chuckles heartily at the stories you offer of kyle failing learning to waterski during your anniversary trip to mauritius (and offers his own insight too, something along the lines of how you'd expect the sergeant to be better balanced, given he's survived hanging off a helicopter before). offers some solid advice on how to deal with the ostentatious coworker whose been bugging you for months. and when you question him about his personal life – a line every good soldier knows not to take with their CO, which has gaz wincing internally – all your guest offers is a genuine, crinkle-eye smile. no doubt appreciative of the non-intrusive manner you ask.

he shoots gaz a look before answering, and it's one full of tacky warmth. a look he's seen several times on the field, molasses sweet and satisfying, one that invades his private thoughts too often to admit. whose effect he knows only comes off in a cold shower, a quick pump to his cock if you're not around to help relieve it. something like approval. unspoken praise.

"wish i could say i've been blessed like the two of ya. married to my work, m'afraid."

"oh." you wave your arms, standing to clear the table of dirty plates. "don't be ridiculous, john. you're a wonderful man. put yourself out there and i'm sure it'll come to you." you say it like it's breathing, and just as easily prance away to the kitchen, your voice losing to the clatter of silverware in the sink. thus, when you yell out something about dessert (price is really only able to decipher i made madeira! over the illegible chorus of cabinets closing) kyle is the one to answer you. well-trained in untangling your voice from any sort of ruckus, poor cell reception and moans and drunk gibberish and the obstructive fabric of his hoodie when you sob into his chest.

"maybe later, doll!" he voices back, scratching the back of his neck as he takes in the food still laid out in front of them. picked apart by hungry forks but still, enough to make up days worth of leftovers.

"mm. the girl stuffed me full, garrick." price stretches from his seat. "if i didnt know any better, i'd reckon you lot were fattening me up to feast on me come winter."

gaz stores the remains of your meal into nearby tupperwares then follows suit, urging his captain to follow him into the lounge. "please," he laughs, nodding when the man pulls a cigar from his pocket and twists it in a silent question. "she thinks they starve us out there. tries to make up for it by feedin' me into oblivion when i'm home."

"speak for yourself. i could do with a home-cooked meal every now 'n' then." the captain takes a puff of the maduro between his fingers, lets the smoke cloud his hindbrain. your house smells so much like you, like kyle and you – warm laundry and anise and jasmine – that he feels a quick lick of guilt at ruining the fragile balance of it. too little too late, too – the scent of leather and oily spice pervades the space.

but you don't mention it once you waltz back in, smoothing your hands across the back of your dress. "if we don't get a chance to try the cake tonight, remind me to send you home with some, john." gaz poorly conceals his laugh with a cough, sinking into the cushion when you shoot him an offended look. "what?"

"nothing," he pouts, then hides his next words behind the back of his hand, whispering to price. "i told you."

"i can hear you, you twat!" you flick his ear, brows furrowed in faux irritation as your boyfriend wraps an arm around your legs.

"i know! hey– i know, gorgeous. was only joking." his forehead nudges your tummy, restless until you comb your hand over his tight curls. "th'captain knows that too. isn't that right, sir?"

"of course."

"you laugh now, but wait until you're halfway through a month long mission. you'll wish you had me around!"

"don't i know it." kyle murmurs, the fingers at the back of your thigh slowly creeping upward. the skirt of your dress slips, climbs up your legs with the motion of his forearm, and all too suddenly he remembers your lack of undergarments.

fuck. he almost forget he pocketed your panties. and you... you've been so natural, such a good hostess despite the cold brush of air constantly on your cunt. it flips a primal switch inside him – that same trigger that'd prompted mention of this night in the first place. blood rushes to his cock so fast it hurts, desperation flooding his lungs until the only thing he can breathe out is your name.

"hmmm." you smile in return. and if price weren't here, he'd bury his nose into the canyon between your legs and take a deep inhale of your natural musk.

but he is, and so all gaz can manage is a quiet: "how about you show the captain our little surprise?"

"oh?" the man in question hums. dangerously relaxed, two legs spread and his posture curved as he watches the little display you put on for him. "what's this about a surprise, then?"

you bite your lip, raking your nails down from your boyfriend's neck to his shoulder and placing a tight, reassuring squeeze there before breaking away. nothing is said as you push an ottoman between price's knees, making sure it's steady before pushing him to rest against the back of the couch.

"do you like my dress?" you practically purr, bending over as to pronounce your tits. kyle's breath stutters, watching for the way superior's eyes take in your form. gratification swells in his belly when he just smiles, patting your hip.

"s'that really a question that needs to be asked, lovie? you know the answer."

an adorable mix between a shrug and giggle is all you give. "kyle says you want to see me."

"aye. i do."

"and i wanna make him happy."

"same for me."

and kyle thinks he could just cum in his pants if this keeps up. he feels filthy, both an observer and the main act in this spectacle. the knowledge that his captain doesn't just want you, the love of his life, but him too works away at him, hollowing him out until he's nothing but a husk of docile yearning.

"so, what'll it be?" you say.

"turn around. elbows on the ottoman, knees on either side of my thighs."

you obey instantly, lamplight catching the heated flush of your skin while you position yourself according to price's wishes. your back arcs so that your ass is prominently within his view, plump even beneath the loose material of your dress.

"kyle."

"sir." he coughs, shifting to conspicuously adjust the aching mass tucked in his waistband.

"on your knees, son. righ' here beside me. when i ask a question, you're expected to answer."

"yes, sir."

"got tha' that, lovie?" he grunts. "respond now, and then it's silence from you."

"okay!" you wiggle your hips, forgetting yourself for a moment. "sir!"

this gaz can do. following orders. grounded pragmatism, however far this is from a professional setting. he figures price has gleaned as much, has given him this task so he doesn't flounder off track throughout the evening and ruin things for everyone. the hard part is over then, all of that hesitant foreplay – of opening up, getting you to agree, of the stretch of time it took for everyone to warm up to one another – wrapped up for something simpler.

all he has to worry about is answering promptly and correctly while he watches his captain–

flip your skirt over your hips.

a low whistle. then, two hands on your backside, kneading the soft flesh there. working either globe apart like dough, the glistening seam of your most private parts spread open to prying eyes. price appraises your cunt for the first time like he would a winning showdog, or the sky on a particularly pleasant day. all utilitarian-like. if it weren't for the bulge in his trousers, your boyfriend would almost be offended.

"no panties, hm?"

"no-" you start, squeaking out an apology when you earn a firm swat to your thigh.

"i asked her to go without them tonight. thought... you'd appreciate it, sir." kyle replies, swallowing the saliva that arises upon seeing your lips flutter.

"good lad." a hot flash of arousal breaks across his chest. the captain lets go of his grip on your ass, watching how the fat jiggles back into place, then returns to squeezing it. "surprised i couldn't smell 'er, way she was dancing around us all night."

it isn't a question, so gaz stays quiet.

the groping continues. sometimes its light – brushes of calloused palms across the area, disturbing the stillness like a rock skipping over water. you ripple when he pokes, shake when he taps. other times, and increasingly once price notes your resilience to pain, it borders on rough. moulding your flesh into compact pinches, jabbing his thumb into the softness so hard it'll bruise. you take it all with grace, a low whine building in your chest that he let's go unpunished.

"she's taking this well. you rough her up often?"

"when she asks, sir." he thinks for a moment, catching your wily smile from the corner of his eye. minx. "likes it more than i do giving it to her."

"need someone to take care of the both of ya." price chuckles, then moves on, oblivious to the way the sergeant's hips buck at his implication. or, maybe he notices – probably does – and stores it away for another time. "looks like a greedy little pussy to me." his thumbs hook onto either side of your labia, pulling it apart like fresh bed to reveal the sloppy mess between. your clit is enflamed, angry for being neglected for so long. if you were allowed to speak, kyle can guarantee with almost a hundred percent certainty that you'd be whining to be touched. "look a' tha'." price's accent grows thicker. "fat little thing just jumping for attention."

he curls a finger, then flicks the swollen bud. a loud moan bursts from you, your face falling between your forearms as you hold yourself back from begging. gaz would've acquiesced by now, would've rubbing the bundle of nerves raw the second you fanned your pretty lashes up at him.

but price snaps it three more times in rapid succession, which apparently is too much for you to handle because you yell. "p-please!"

he remedies your slip up with a slap to the same area. the crack on impact echoes long enough to tell him that one hurt. "shhh. so spoiled, sergeant. how often do you make her cum?"

"a-at least three times a go, sir."

"what's the record?"

"eight."

"and the longest you've held off?"

kyle hesitates, bowing his head for the reprimand he knows is coming. "never... never tried. sir."

"tch."

a precision blow. swift but petrifying. the captain's managed to find both your loose strings in a matter of minutes, tugging to see them come undone on his lap. gaz has got the unwavering urge to rest his chin on his strong thigh, put it on the record that he isn't weak willed, just indulgent. something that can be easily remedied, with his guidance. if he'd let him.

and you...

you're gyrating your hips, begging for some pressure on your aching centre. price gives it to you, though not in the way you expect, pinching your clit and tightening his hold until you're motionless, muscles trembling but otherwise perfectly poised.

so the inspection continues. he fans out your vulva, exposing the hole that clenches around nothing. a laugh wracks his frame at the sight, the aftermath of it husky. amused. "begging to be filled, a'right. how many cocks has she had in 'ere?"

"just mine, sir. and her toys."

"how about at once?"

kyle's never been so bold with you; has always held back that godless part of him, that needy dog he sees his comrades often embrace. pure, unfettered degeneracy. you're soft, and pretty and good and a high-functioning member of society. and he's never once wanted to see you hurt, uncomfortable or bite-mark-bloodied, despite the way his mind screams at him to at least ask. see if you'd be willing to appease that side of him.

yet you visibly shiver at the thought proposed by price, gooseflesh pocking your skin, and he knows he should have thrown caution to the wind.

"one, sir."

he watches the man's finger outline the circumference of your opening, dipping in by the millimetre to test the waters. "shame. could probably stretch her out. get 'er nice and loose for whenever you wan' something to keep you warm without the commitment."

the finger plunges in.

gaz watches you swallow his superior to the last knuckle in what must be a world-record, no time to blink lest he misses it. price goes with the motion, setting his free hand onto your ass to keep you steady as he wiggles his digit to make space amidst the tight embrace of your walls. or, that's what he thinks is happening. the only indication he has of things are the lewd squelches your cunt emits and the face of pure ecstasy you pull. but he's well-versed enough in your bodily functions that he's sure of his estimate.

"scratch wha' i said. nothing beats this." his superior groans, and for the first time that night, adjusts himself in his pants. kyle wishes he would pull it out, allow himself the relief of freeing a raging hard-on from its confines. but kyle also wishes that he could be given something to do, something with his mouth perhaps, to sate the unaddressed thrill in his bones. it wouldn't take a smart man to figure out that both wishes are very much correlated. "fucking suffocating clutch. wouldn' pull out if my life depended on it. pussy like this isn' made for that, garrick."

"sir?"

"you cum inside her, lad?"

"i- yes. i-i do. she's on birth control."

"best to see to that, then." he says, like the contraceptive is an obstacle and not a consolation. you release another, long-winded moan, to which price pulls his finger out to pat your vulva. like taming a wild animal. "though what i said still stands. could always do with a loose hole."

his hand inches up.

this time, it's gaz who groans.

loudly. his eyes fluttering halfway shut, hands tugging at the tight fabric over his groin. you throw a curious look over your shoulder, concern glossing your pupils until you confirm that the source of the sound isn't pain, but pleasure. ecstasy at finally having his wants vocalised, that incessant impulse that nags and nags and nags anytime he's fucking you from behind, tight rim practically leering up at him, tempting him to thrust upwards and 'accidentally' slip in.

"you like that, sergeant? hm? ever use this asshole? it looks unbroken to me."

"y-you're... not wrong, sir. i–"

"but you want to?" he finishes for him, scooping some of the abundant slick from your cunt and slathering it onto your back entrance. it's not enough lubrication to do anything but press one thumb in, but he repeats the process to push the other in alongside it.

"yeah."

you give him a look that can't mean anything except we'll talk about this later and he can bloody kiss price if he was given permission to, if not for anything but helping him open this impossible subject with you.

"we'll see to tha' some other day, then."

his thumbs retreat. your hole winks shut again. gaz is torn between looking at you or his captain, but the latter man robs him of the indecision by bringing his dominant index and middle fingers to his lips. they're shiny with the remnants of your fluids, as if he needed any incitement to wrap his mouth around the digits. he works at them until price's fingers prune, laving his tongue around the knuckles, against the nail beds, all the way through to the fold of skin between them.

so desperate to please, to see to it that 'some other day' is everyday henceforth.

a future with price by your sides. beyond just the field. the bite in your supple existence. spice supporting anise and jasmine, some aphrodisiac blend that'll carry you through to the end of your lives, happy. sated. a mediator. commander. captain. his captain.

"that's a good boy."

he could really get used to this.