pairing: college emo!bucky x semi-popular!f!reader
summary: maybe you don't hate bucky as much as you think.
word count: 6k
warnings/tags: +18 MDNI, smut, an attempt of enemies to lovers, unprotected sex (don't !!) size kink, hand kink!! belly bulge, pet names (mostly bucky making fun of reader pink hair) piercings, p in v sex, kinda mean dom!bucky?? dacryphilia, virginity loss, and kinda mean reader. reader has pink hair :p
lexa’s note: important note!! letting the smoke of your cigarette hit another persons face, sometimes means you want to fuck them :D and guys, don't hate, i just found really cute losing your v-card to someone you """hate""" LMAO, don't be harsh on me, pls ㅠㅡㅠ
"No, I'm not going! gosh...what's so hard to understand? i want this friday night for me" You said as you walked towards your kitchen while Wanda and Natasha walked behind you.
"C'mon! We need to go, Steve and Vision are gonna be there, please!" Wanda said in an almost whiny tone as she took your hand. "Then, you two go, I'm not going. James will be there, and I don't want to see him. Even just thinking of him makes me nauseous." You said this while sitting at the kitchen counter with an iced coffee in your hand.
"Babe, we need to go, please, I promise I won't let Bucky near you all night." Natasha said as she approached you and gently stroked your hair.
You rolled your eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "Okay, you win, but if you let James near me, I'm never going back." Wanda and Natasha jumped for joy and hugged you, kissing you on the head "Promise, babe" — you hoped you wouldn't regret it
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"If you guys are not ready in less than 1 minute, I'm not going!" Your back against the door staring at your nails, your foot tapping anxiously—you'd be lying if you said Bucky didn't make you tremble, but you still hate him.
"LETS GOO!" Wanda dragged you out of the house directly to the car, opening the back door "Get in, princess, we need to get going!" You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself before getting into the car.
You knew you would see Bucky, and internally that made you nervous, even though you didn't want it to. "Okaay" Your voice barely steady.
"I have a plan to get Bucky away from you" Natasha smiled through the rearview mirror of the car. "If he tries to approach, just insult him until he gets angry and he'll go back to Steve and Vision."
"That's exactly what I was thinking" You let out a small laugh as your mind focused on calming your body. —You're supposed to hate it, so why does it have this effect on you?
"But...you need to admit he's kinda hot" Wanda chuckled as she watched your reaction in the rearview mirror. "I mean, have you seen his hands? And that metal hand, but that scar on his eye makes him even hotter" She placed her finger between her teeth, gently biting it.
"Are you into Vision or Bucky, Wanda?" you jeered to her face changing quickly after that question. "Into Vision..but i like teasing you until you admit bucky makes you get wet" She simply rolled her eyes and smiled softly
"Not gonna happen, he's a total jerk, I bet he even has a small dick" You laughed loudly as you looked at the streets, knowing you were close to reaching the bar.
"Yeah..keep telling that to yourself, silly" Natasha said, her gaze fixed on the road, searching for an empty parking spot.
"Whatever, just...focus on the road!" You crossed your arms and your gaze stopped at Vision's car; your heart dropped to your stomach again, you felt anxious once more.
"We are here" Natasha and Wanda came out of the car, while you were still deciding whether to do it, until Natasha turned around to look for you and gestured with her hand —You were so fucked up...
You walked into the bar and the first thing you saw was Bucky taking a pic with Steve and Vision, his metal hand on Steve and his flesh hand on Vision, that big scar on his left eye, that piercing between his eyebrows, his pierced ears. You just swallowed hard when you felt his gaze on you.
Wanda and Natasha dragged you towards them while you felt his gaze fixed on you, and his presence made you tremble, but obviously you wouldn't let him notice.
“I didn’t know you could pull off a mini skirt like that,” Bucky said in a mocking way —barely three seconds after you walked up to them.
You laughed sarcastically before making a face at him. "Hi, Steve… hi, Vision," you smiled kindly at them before turning your gaze back to Bucky. "James." Your smile disappeared instantly.
"What's up, shorty" He gave you a mocking smile, looking you up and down shamelessly again. You bit the inside of your cheek. "I'll go get a drink." You walked away as you headed to the bar.
────୨ৎ────
"Hi! Could I have a Blue Hawaiian, please?" You smiled politely at the bartender as you took a seat. While your drink was being prepared, your eyes wandered, and you noticed Bucky with a girl. He was lighting a cigarette, and the girl was practically drooling over him—You couldn't deny he was very handsome, but the moment he opened his mouth, you forgot all about it.
“Here you are, miss,” the bartender said, placing the drink in front of you. “Thank you.” You immediately grabbed the straw, letting the icy chill slide down your throat.
“The best thing that happened today…” you whispered to yourself—Even though you didn't want to come 30 minutes ago but nothing this drink can't fix.
You discreetly started scanning the room for Bucky and that girl again, but they were nowhere to be seen. Your brain immediately jumped to the conclusion that they’d probably gone off to… you knew, have sex. You couldn’t deny jealousy, but your pride was too strong—you decided it was better to ignore it.
You tried to focus again on your drink but— "I didn't know your hair, despite being pink, would be so soft." His hand was gently stroking your hair.
“Of course, you idiot. I take care of her,” you said, taking your hair out of his hand. He laughed as he sat down next to you, his eyes lingering on you hungrily.
“Her?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Duh? my hair's way too cool to be him" you rolled your eyes and put the straw between your lips again.
He just laughed and took another cigarette, lighting it while you watched out of the corner of your eye—why the hell does he have to look so damn hot smoking?
He took a drag from his cigarette, drawing it deep into his lungs, and then exhaled—right in your face.
“What the fuck, Bucky?” you exclaimed, waving your hands to clear the smoke.
"You don't like it, Pinkie Pie?" You huffed and glared at him, "I'm not Pinkie Pie, idiot."
"Oh, you're right, you wanted to be lava girl" He took another drag of his cigarette and again let the smoke hit your face "Fuck! James, Stop that" You cough.
He smirked, "You know..." He took the cigarette and stubbed it out against the ashtray. “I still remember when you were little and begged your mother for pink hair.”
You almost choked, feeling a hollow ache in your chest. “I told you not to talk about it anymore, James.”
Yes...believe it or not, he was your childhood best friend...and maybe your childhood crush too, until 7th grade, where he became a total jerk to you.
"Why? you were such a baby, always crying" Once again he let out that mocking laugh that made your blood boil.
“Shut up, Bucky, or you’ll see,” you snapped, raising your voice a little as you glared at him.
“Make me, Pinkie pie,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips, like he was daring you to try.— Fuck, you'll be lying if that didn't make your panties wet.
But you felt your blood boil even more and you grabbed his cheeks, squeezing them and digging your nails in. "You're an idiot, you have no idea how much I hate you."
You could see his eyes darken as he took your wrist, pulling it away from his mouth, and leaned closer, his breath mingling with yours. "Yeah...keep fooling yourself into thinking you hate me."
"I don't have to fool no one, you're a jerk, how could I not hate you? You have a degree in making me crazy." You said in a steady voice, while inside your nerves were eating you alive.
"Is that so? Mhm...Then when we were kids and you said you wanted to marry me. That's all gone?" He leaned closer to you—You couldn't deny that your belly felt tingling.
"You just said it..kids" You huffed as you glared at him angrily, feeling your heart pounding against your chest...and maybe another part of you too.
"We'll see about that, Pinkie Pie," He said, as he stood up and walked over to his friends, leaving you completely confused.
THE FUCK HE MEANS WITH "we'll see about that"???
You sighed and took cash from your purse, leaving it under your drink, and walked towards the door, leaving.
You were going to text Natasha and Wanda about why you left. You just couldn't stand bucky anymore.
“Hey, cutie—” At this point, you couldn’t stand another guy approaching you. “Wha—” Before you could even react, you felt Bucky’s hand wrap around your wrist, dragging you back toward his car.
He opened the car door for you, and you got in, watching him walk around the front of the car before sliding into the driver’s seat. “Let me take you home, Cotton Candy.”
"Im already in the car" You couldn't help but laugh a little. "And are you going to tell me every single pink thing in the world just 'cause of my hair" He remained silent for a second "Yeah, princess bubblegum"
"Keep testing me, cheap copy of Marshall Lee" You started poking his chest which surprisingly (not really) was hard.
"Uh, Marshall Lee, that's a good one" He grinned and leaned closer making you feel breathless "Now, put the seat belt on, im going to take you home, I know your mom misses me" He winked at you with a big smile.
"Asshole..." You whispered to yourself while your gaze fixed on the window.
“You still live in the same place?”
You nodded, trying to act calm but inside your mind was having a breakdown
The car started moving, and you glanced at him—and God, his hands… you hadn’t remembered them being so big and veiny. Heat pooled in your belly, growing with every passing second.
Your eyes begin to wander all over his body until they reach the hem of his shirt, then his belt, and then that bulge.
Why did it look so big? No, it can't be, maybe it's his jeans just doing a favor...
“What are you looking at?” You quickly glanced around, you could feel your heart beating in your ears.
“Nothing… I just zoned out,” you murmured.
"Yeah.." He laughed as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.
Your eyes were drawn again to his hands—the way he gripped the steering wheel, his flesh hand flushed from the cold, the metal one probably cold. his long fingers stretching over it. Your mind started filling with all the ways you could use those hands, and your breath quickened softly
"Like what you see, Pinkie Pie?” he murmured, his eyes glinting, making your stomach twist.
Your eyes turned back to the road, trying to calm your racing heartbeat. You tried to focus on the road ahead, but your thoughts kept drifting back to his hands, how would they feel on you.
Why does he have to have such attractive hands?
The car stopped right in front of your house.“Thanks,” you said, looking at your house, feeling your cheeks flush.
"Nuh-uh, im going to say hi to your mom" He said as he got out of the car, heading to open the door for you.
"Don't, it's 1 am, she's going to be asleep" You took him off his shirt, squeezing it. "C'mon, you don't fool me, i know your mom's awake" He grinned before going straight to the door.
"This dumbass" You ran towards him, but the door opened; you knew perfectly well that your mother was waiting for you.
“Oh my, Bucky! How are you?” Your mom cupped Bucky’s cheeks, caressing him softly. “Look at how tall and handsome you’ve become.”
“Thank you, Mama.” He gave her a warm smile and hugged her gently.
“I know, such a cute moment. But he needs to go, Mom,” you said with a polite smile, gently pushing him away from your mom.
“Don’t be rude,” she replied. “Besides, it’s 1 am, it’s dangerous, you can stay here, Bucky”
“Mom, no!” you shook your head, glancing sideways at Bucky with a small, playful smile.
“Yes, he can,” your mom said, glaring at you sharply. “Take him to the guest room. Now.”
You sighed and started walking towards the guest room. "Why did you do that?" You opened the bedroom door and turned on the light.
“See? Always crying,” he said as he sat down on the bed.
“I’m not crying…” you muttered, pulling the blankets out of the drawer and taking a couple of pillows from the closet. Tossing them on the bed.
You didn’t wait for his reaction. You headed straight to the bathroom. Turning on the light, taking your toothbrush and beginning brushing your teeth, trying to ignore the heat still burning in your chest.
You zoned out, thinking about how you really feel about him. Why does your heart feel like it’s going to burst every time he’s close… and yet, you feel this hate for him?
You were so absorbed in your own thoughts that you didn’t notice Bucky leaning against the doorframe for a moment, watching you through the mirror with that infuriating little smirk. Then slowly he stepped inside.
Your body tingled as you felt his chest bump against your back; you stopped brushing your teeth and spit into the sink, rinsing your mouth quickly "You're too close, James."
“You always disappear on me,” he murmured, voice low and calm, like he was stating a fact, not teasing this time.
"I'm not the one who always disappears" You placed both hands on the sink, squeezing it gently, feeling your body tremble softly
The metal arm rested lightly on the sink beside your hip, his flesh hand brushing your other side as he caged you in without touching you.
"I'm sorry, dollface..." You felt his breath hit the back of your neck, making you feel that tingling in your belly again.
You turned around and now you were face to face, you felt his breath mingling with yours. "Fuck you..." You said breathless
His eyes scanned you completely before he cupped your cheeks in both hands, leaning in to kiss you gently. You froze for a second, just letting the sensation wash over you, before your hands instinctively went to his chest.
His thumbs gently caressed your cheeks as the kiss deepened, and you let out a soft gasp against his lips. Slowly, his hands left your face, sliding down to wrap around your waist, pulling you close and squeezing you tightly.
You let out a soft whimper when you felt his cold metal fingers slip beneath your top. Your hands went to his hair, tangling your fingers in it, gripping tightly.
Your breath hitched as his kiss deepened even more like he wanted to taste every second of your lips. He bit your lower lip softly before breaking the kiss.
"Repeat that..." His breath hit your face, resting his forehead against yours, keeping his hand to your waist refusing you to let go.
"What?" Your hands rested on his shoulders, digging your nails in, feeling your wet panties.
"That pathetic little 'fuck you' you tried to throw at me" He smirked, pushing your waist against him, feeling his bulge, covered by his pants, bumps against your belly making you let out a whimper.
"Fuck..you" You repeated but this time it came out like a whisper
"So obedient" His metal arm squeeze your cheeks making you pout
Your hand moved from his shoulder and, just like him, you squeezed his cheeks.
"Shu..up, Jamesh." Your words came out muffled, your cheeks squished between his fingers.
He let out a low laugh at your attempt to speak "C'n you le' go?"
"o'ly if you do."
Both of you released your cheeks at the same time, and a small laugh escaped your lips.
"I missed that laugh"
"Well, we should go to sleep." You tried to escape his grip but you couldn't.
"Tell me what I can do to make you forgive me." He took your wrist caressing it with his thumb.
"I need more than a sorry, Barnes. Keep thinking." You poke his cheek, smiling a bit.
"Now, wash your teeth." You left the bathroom, heading to your room.
────୨ৎ────
"So...what happened last night" Wanda and Natasha crushed you like you were the filling of a sandwich.
"Nothing! He just slept at my house, my mom told him to sleep there."
"Yeah..sure" Natasha said mockingly, poking your cheek.
"I promise, we even slept in different rooms" Your eyes couldn’t leave your hands
"We should believe her, Wan?" Natasha looked at Wanda arching her eyebrow.
"Mhm..I don't think so.."
"C'mon, I'm not lying. I promise nothing happened last night" You put your head against the table, completely frustrated.
"Okaaay, don't be such a cry baby" Wanda bit your back making you laugh.
“STOP! DON’T DO THAT!” you jumped up, laughing as you spotted Bucky and his friends in the distance.
"Oh, look who's coming" Natasha gently nudged you with her elbow.
"I need to get something to eat" You tried to get up from the table, but Natasha's hand on your wrist stopped you.
"Don't" You rolled your eyes and sat back down, feeling the nerves growing inside you.
At this point you were praying for Bucky not snitching on you.
"Sup, Cotton candy." You let out a soft sigh at that nickname "Hi, James."
"Cotton candy?" Steve frowned.
"He insists on calling me that, 'cause of my pink hair."
"It kinda suits you..." Steve nodded, agreeing with Bucky.
"See!" He smirked, "Told you everyone likes it."
You got up from the table, walked right up and looked at him sharply. “Don't feel so jealous 'cause my hair has more personality than you”
"You do really love talking, huh?" He took a step closer.
"I just know how to deal with idiots" You stood on your tiptoes, whispering in his ear, "with a small dick..." You looked him in the eyes again and winked at him. "And lucky you, it fits the description perfectly."
His and your friends tried to hide their laughs, but the tension between you two was electric.
His jaw clenched and he took a heavy breath. He leaned close to your ear "Keep talking like that and I might have to teach you a lesson."
You tilted your head, unbothered. "Oh, please. I dare you, James."
He exhaled, a chuckled escape from his mouth. "You'll wish you hadn't said that."
"Okay, I feel uncomfortable now," Vision said, making the others laugh.
"Yeah, just kiss already" Steve pushed bucky against you a little more
"Stop, Steve" Bucky walked away from you.
You just smiled at Bucky. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go to class."
────୨ৎ────
Your hand was in your neck massaging it trying to ease the pain. "I need to relax."
You kept walking until you left the school, but you bumped into someone's chest thanks to your lack of attention. "Sorry, I didn't mean—"
"Yeah, you didn't mean too" Bucky took your wrist dragging you to his car.
"Wait..." You stuttered
"So, now you're that pathetic little thing, huh?" He pulled you against him, grabbing your cheeks
"Im not pathetic, dumbass" You sighed, taking him by the wrist.
"Yeah, sure. Let me take you to my place, I have something for you" He chuckled and opened the car door.
You stared at him for a second. Your eyebrow arched, "That sounds like the start of a murder series."
He snorted "Get in" He tilted his head arching his eyebrow "or are you scared, Pinkie Pie?"
"No...I'm not" You got into the car, fastening your seatbelt and watching him smile victoriously.
He walked around the front of the car before sliding into the driver’s seat. "I promise you'll love it.
"Just drive, Bucky" Unconsciously—not really—you stared at his hands again. They were just genuinely bewitching you
You'd totally love his hands to manhandle you. Gliding all over your body, making you squirm beneath him, his fingers on your mouth, and then go straight to your cunt. Making you cry.
"You do really love my hands, don't you?" You felt the heat rise up your face and immediately looked out the window, feeling your heart pounding like crazy
"I..was not looking at your hands.." You stuttered.
Bucky's grin was immediate "Oh yeah?" He stopped the car and leaned closer to you whispering "Then why are you so red?" He bit your lobule making you squirm a little.
"Stop teasing, and keep driving, jerk" You turned his face away with your hand.
────୨ৎ────
"It's here" He opened the door for you, tossing his keys over the table.
"It's cleaner than I thought it would" Your eyes wandered all over the apartment, spotting a t-shirt here and there.
Bucky grabbed your wrist, leading you to his room. "Wait...why are we going there?" you said nervously.
"For your gift, you said sorry wasn't enough," He kept walking with you behind him, while your heart was about to burst.
His room smelled like a mixture of perfume and cigarettes.
Bucky placed you in front of his bed, and you sat on the edge of it, now wandering around his room.
"So...where's my gift, Barnes?" You asked, crossing one leg over the other, pretending you weren't nervous.
He didn't answer, he just closed the door behind him and leaned gently against it. Staring at you like you were his meal.
"You're too impatient, bunny" A soft smirk tugged at his lips.
"Just give it to me, i didn't come all the way here to waste time" You bit your inner cheek.
He started walking towards you, knees touching. "You're still as naive," He gently touched your chin. "You really think I'd bring you to my room, just to hand you something?"
"That's what you said" Your heart was in your shoes at this point.
"Maybe I lied" His metal arm brushes your knee sending an abrupt spasm in your spine.
"Relax, cotton candy," he said, laughing "I didn’t lie, I did get you something"
"Then, where is it?" You crossed your arms.
He leaned in just a little, enough to feel his breath against yours, smiling flirtatiously
"Right..." His index finger tapped his pocket "...here"
Your breathing quickened gently, squeezing your thighs together.
"Say please"
You stared at his face, "I'm not to saying please"
"I knew you'd say that." He chuckled, "But it was a good try."
He leaned even closer, making you lean back slightly on his bed. "You're too close..."
He took out a pink acrylic rabbit keychain.
Your breath hitched, it was your favorite keychain when you were in 6th grade but you’ve lost it.
"I had found it at my mother's house before I left, so I brought it with me," A smirk appeared on his lips "but as always, a crying baby, crying over a stupid bunny."
"Shut up, Bucky" You hit his chest, frowning slightly in annoyance.
"Make me, cry baby"
"Get off" You writhed beneath him, pushing him away.
"No," He took you by the wrists and placed them on top of you. "I told you, I'm going to teach you a lesson."
His fingers started to glade slowly in your thigh making you squirm beneath him "Bucky...Stop teasing"
"Or what?" His metal hand slid up to your waist, gripping it firmly.
"I'm going to kill you."
"I'd love to see you try it." He let go of your hands.
You tried to push him away, but he was stronger. "Fuck.." You saw that smile appear on his face again.
His lips began to kiss your neck; you bit your lower lip trying to stifle a moan. "Open that pretty mouth of yours, let me hear you"
"Fuck you..."
"Oh, there it is, that little pathetic 'fuck you' of yours" He started nibbling your neck, while his metal hand went under your shirt, up to your tits, gently squeezing one of them.
You squirmed again feeling your body trembling, "Maybe, instead of saying fuck you, should say, fuck me"
“Fuck me…” you mutter under your breath. unfortunately—not really—Bucky Barnes had heard it.
His lips captured yours, kissing you this time forcefully, teeth grazing your lower lip just enough to make you gasp.
Your gasp was enough for him to insert his tongue into your mouth; You were totally wet at this point.
Bucky broke the kiss and took off his shirt, revealing his toned body.
He took the edge of your shirt and pulled it up, revealing your bra.
His hands went to the waistband of your pants, unbuttoning it and pushing them down your legs before tossing them onto the floor.
Then he straightened again—his chest rising and falling, eyes dark, hungry.
Without looking away from you, Bucky brought his hands to his own waistband this time. He slid his fingers over the fabric, unbuttoned his jeans in one smooth move, and lowered the zipper slowly, deliberately, like he wanted you to watch every second of it.
He pushed his pants down his hips, letting them fall to the floor with a dull thud before stepping out of them, now standing in nothing but his boxers.
He grabbed your thighs and handed you to the middle of the bed. "Open" while bringing two of his flesh fingers to your lips.
You opened your mouth, feeling him insert his fingers inside. "Lick them." And without hesitation, you licked them.
"Such an obedient girl" He took his fingers out of your mouth and removed your panties tossing them on the floor. He approached your cunt, and his two fingers brushed your folds.
"Buck..." Your voice cracked as you tried to close your legs—instinctively— but his hands firmly stopped you.
"Don't close them." His voice wasn't loud, but it was firm like an order, making you feel a shiver through your spine.
He moved closer to your pussy, feeling his breath against it, making you feel a shudder. "I'll give you what you want so much."
He chuckled softly before letting out his pierced tongue "You're gonna to enjoy this," He placed his piercing against your clit, making you jerk at the sensation; he started to move it in circles.
"shit—james" You took his hair between your fingers, tangling it between them, your head back against the pillow, feeling that heat increase in your belly.
His tongue quickens its pace, making you twitch. Your other hand went to your mouth, gently biting it.
His metallic hand glided up and took your hand. "Don't." He said, as he watched your chest rise and fall between his thick lashes.
"Bucky!" You started to writhe, fingers curled into the sheets, feeling your whole body tensed.
Bucky felt his cock twitch and released some pre-semen just from watching you like this; moaning his name when just seconds ago you were acting all bratty.
"Let's start stretching this little pussy of yours, so I can bury all myself." He straightened up— a little —and his metal hand approached your cunt, dragging his fingers all over your folds.
"Bucky, please," you gasped at the sensation of his cold fingers against your cunt sending an immediate shudder to your belly.
"I thought you didn't say 'please'" He said, with a mocking smile, and without warning inserted his two fingers inside you.
You frowned and a moan escaped your lips as your body tensed at the intrusion, making you tremble. It was a burning sensation mixed with pleasure; your head felt slightly dizzy. "Shut—up..." you mumbled.
Bucky tilted his head slightly, thrusting his fingers into you; his mouth kissing your inner thigh, starting near your knee, leaving small trails of saliva until reaching your high thigh, leaving a bite, "Gonna leave you all marked up"
Bucky pulled his face away from your between your thighs, straightened up—still moving his fingers inside you—and brought his flesh hand to your lips, brushing them with his thumb; "Oh...God, Buck..." you moaned as you felt his fingers touch a sweet spot, and without wasting any time, Bucky slipped his index into your mouth. "Look at this pretty little mouth," he said, as he inspected your mouth.
Moans and gasps escaped your lips shamelessly; Bucky moved his fingers faster, striking that weak spot more frequently, making you tremble and tear up a little.
"Wai'..." You grabbed his wrist, trying to slow his movements—failing; your body tensing and clenching around his fingers, you were about to cum.
He took his finger out of your mouth, and gave you a little slap on the cheek. "Such a messy girl." He grinned.
"Don't slap...me" you stuttered trying to stay steady while your head was spinning.
"shut up" His fingers moved faster, your legs weakened; "Fuck—james!" you closed your eyes, letting out a loud moan as you felt your pussy clench tightly around his fingers, feeling shivers all over your body.
Bucky smiled victoriously and pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them straight to his mouth, licking them, "You taste good, better than I expected."
"Go..to hell.." You said, trying to catch your breath.
"Can't, right now it's my turn to cum," He grabbed your thighs and pulled you even closer to him; you could feel his cock bumping against your cunt.
"Ah—wait" You placed your hand on his pelvis, and you tried to regain consciousness; your body felt sensitive.
"i dont feel like waiting" he pull off his boxers, letting his cock out, while jerking it a little "I've stretched this little cunt enough, now I can fuck you however I want"
"I hate you...so fucking much" Your chest up and down as you clenched your jaw.
but you couldn't deny that you wanted him to fuck you.
"hate me so much, yet, you're here in my bed, cumming in my fingers" He rubbed the tip of his member against your pussy; you gasped at the stimulation on your pussy again.
"Let's do something better." He took you in his arms and sat in the middle of the bed, sat you on his lap, caressing your cheek. "bounce on it."
You shook your head, widening your eyes, "I won't do it."
"Why? you scared?" he tilted his head "Yes..you are" He grinned
"I...it's just, I'm scared it's gonna hurt a lot" You placed your hands on your thighs, digging your nails in there.
"That's why you'll put it in, I can't go slow, you do it." he said, while drawing on your waist.
You swallowed, and put your knees in his sides, taking his length in your hand and rubbing it against your hole, causing a small gasp. You slowly lower yourself onto his cock.
He took your hands, and you squeezed them, biting your lower lip hard. "It's not as small as you thought, is it?"
"Fuck...you, Barnes," you said, as you slowly made your way to the base of his cock, feeling tears stream down your cheeks. "Don't cry, you just make me want to make you cry more. ."
You hid your face in his neck, biting it and leaving small marks, "if you leave me marked, I'll leave you marked."
"Please, do," He smiled and thrust into you, making you let out a muffled moan against his neck. "Sorry, it slipped"
"Keep teasing and you'll be a dead man." you said, digging your nails into his knuckles, moving your waist slightly in circles.
"If you're going to move, do it right." Bucky grabbed your waist and thrusted into you, arching your chest against his. "Bucky—God."
"Look at you, you can barely speak, but just a little while ago you were so confident about my little cock," he said, between small gasps; you let go of his hands and placed them on his back, digging your nails in and leaving small scratches.
"It's...small"
He just smiled and changed position, leaving you beneath him. He slid in one stroke, making you tremble completely.
"If it's so small..." He took your hand and placed it on the bulge that was forming in your belly, pushing it a little, "Why does it stick out from your small body?"
"oh—fuck! don't do that..." you stuttered feeling light-headed; You tried to move your hand, but he moved inside you, forcing your head into the pillow.
Bucky brought his face closer to your neck, leaving bites, moving down to your tits, licking your nipple feeling his pierced tongue.
His thrusts became rougher, and tears streaming down your cheeks again. "Look at you, you're a mess. God, I'm going to fill you completely."
"I—I can't"
"Yes, you can." He released your hand from your belly and gripped your hips tightly—it would probably leave bruises—his breathing quickened, as did his thrusts, you felt him hitting your sweet spot.
Your body wouldn't stop trembling, your hands on his back again, leaving scratches; your moans in his ear, you felt his member touch that special spot making you see stars.
"James..." You stuttered. The tears wouldn't stop. You felt so sensitive, you couldn't stop babbling his name.
You felt your pussy tighten around his cock, your body tense up, you couldn't even form words.
He took one of your legs and placed it on his shoulder, thrusting even deeper inside you. Your moan was so sharp it sounded like a scream. "That's—too much," you said, whining.
"Be a big girl and take it" He said, taking your cheeks and squeezing them, "Such a cry baby, god, I really love seeing you cry."
You shook your head and tried to form words, attempting to defend yourself, but you were too cock-drunk to even speak.
"Oh, poor baby, can't even talk" Bucky slid his metallic hand down to your clit, moving his middle fingers in circles; You closed your eyes tightly, feeling a shiver run through your entire body
"Bucky—please" You choked on a sob, your heartbeat racing like crazy, your vision blurred, and you felt a shiver in your belly.
You were about to cum.
Bucky felt your cunt clenching around his cock, making him groan. He started moving his fingers faster; and before you could even react, you felt your orgasm hit you, jerking your body.
"Now, my turn" He moved his hand away from your clit and gripped your thigh over his shoulder, thrusting roughly, making you whine from how sensitive you were.
He bit your thigh, his member twitching inside you, his groans and his flesh palm was placed over your mouth, blocking your moans and whines; only small sobs came out of your nose, as did your ragged breathing.
His thrusts became slower and more sloppy until you felt lines of semen inside you, feeling him slowly filling you up. "I told you—fuck—that I would fill you completely."
His thrusts slowly stopped, and he looked at you with that mocking smile, "You took it like a good, obedient girl, that's how you should always be, not a stubborn one."
"I hate you" you said between small sobs, feeling the tears slowly stopping.
He lowered your thigh from his shoulder, and smiled. "Fucking" Thrust "Hate" Thrust "Me" Thrust "But I just cummed inside you"
"No—Bucky, Stop!"
He laughed at you, and let his cock out of you, brushing your cheek "Now you're mine, even marked your inside"
You felt your face heat up and turn red. "Shut up..."
"Such a cute bunny” He kissed your temple, wiping your tears. “Sorry for being so harsh on you”
His gaze was tender; you felt his flesh hand caress your cheek, gently squeezing it. "i— i enjoyed it..."
He brought his mouth closer, biting your cheek, making you laugh and squirm, "I wanna eat you"
You already did, didn't you?" You cupped your hands on his cheeks, brushing them with your thumb.
"Maybe I want to do it again," He licked your cheek, feeling his tongue piercing against it, "Can I?”
⭐︎ warnings: nsfw, smut, jealousy, porn, masturbation, fleshlight, sex toys mentioned, p in v sex, innocence kink, sex recording, even more coercion, blowjobs, dirty talk, threats of baby trapping, degrading, praising, size difference kink, breeding kink, humiliation kink, rough and possessive sex, exhibitionism, bucky is a little mean here, and he still has a cringy username
⭐︎ word count: 7.7k
⭐︎ a/n: nearly a year later, here we go again. this is part two of my p*rnstar bucky. read part one in order to understand this part. thank you for all the love and support you've shown me in the first part. i didn't plan to write a pt2, but with pt1 hitting 10k along with 7k followers, i had to do it for ya'll. i hope you enjoy!
synopsis:
One video isn’t nearly enough for Bucky. He wants more of you—wants to make you his star, his girl. But it isn’t just him who’s hooked. His viewers can’t stop talking about the voice in the video he’s been jerking off to. Now everyone’s desperate to know who the mystery woman is… the only thing is, it's been ten months since you two last spoke.
← previous fic | main masterlist
Ten months.
It had been ten long, grueling months since Bucky last got a taste of you.
After taking your virginity, he paid for your groceries—as promised, because he believed himself to be a gentleman—and messaged you a few days later, inviting you to film another video with him.
You were his loyal fan.
You were there for every single one of his videos.
Hell, your own username was dedicated to him.
So when you left him on read for ten months without leaving a single trace behind, he grew furious. He tried making excuses for you—perhaps you were too busy? Or maybe you went on vacation? He tried circling back to your social media, which was how he had first found you, but you had privated all your accounts and deactivated your TikTok.
Naturally, pessimistic thoughts began to fill his mind.
Was he too rough when he took you? Did he freak you out by finding you at the grocery store? Worse, had he scared you away for good?
Bucky knew where you lived. It would’ve been easy to just show up at your front door and demand answers—but he couldn’t do that. Not with the threat of a restraining order looming in the back of his mind.
Ten months. He couldn’t believe he had let you stray away from him for that long.
There was so much you could’ve done during that time. You could’ve moved, had sex with other men, or even found a relationship.
You went from being his loyal fan to a ghost.
Bucky knelt on his mattress, holding up a clear silicone toy that looked tiny compared to his hands. He squeezed a generous amount of lube into his palm and spread it carefully along his half-hard cock, making sure none of it dripped onto the sheets.
His camcorder was propped against a pillow, angled perfectly to capture him from the waist down. With his bare abs and thighs fully in frame, he settled back on his heels, gripped the toy firmly, and guided it toward his cock.
A rough groan escaped him as he teased the sensitive tip against the entrance. The lubricant made every movement slick and audible, the wet sounds filling the otherwise quiet room.
“Fuck. Been waiting for this all day.”
His eyes fluttered shut as he slowly worked the toy against his shaft. He continued at an unhurried pace, his grip tightening as he lost himself in the sensation.
“Good girl,” he muttered without thinking.
The words slipped out on instinct, a praise that always led back to you. As the room filled with the sounds of his grunts and movements, his thoughts drifted to the memory of you. They always did. He pictured your soft lips wrapped around his dick, the way he had your face pressed into the pillow as he took you from behind—the moments that had replayed endlessly in his mind over the past months.
At some point, imagination alone had stopped being enough.
Whenever he wanted to relive it, he would pull up the private video he recorded of the two of you, letting it play in the background while he lost himself in the pleasure of his toy.
“God,” he groaned, your name slipping from his lips in a breathless rasp.
He made a mental note to cut the part where he whispered your name like a prayer before uploading the video to the site.
“Shit—fuck. I miss that tight little pussy.”
With a loud groan and both hands holding the toy tight, he drove his hips deep into the toy until it made an unmistakable tearing sound. Too lost in the haze of his own desire, he didn’t even realize he tore through yet another toy to the memory of you.
Seed filled the silicone, marking every cloudy surface with his thick cum.
Once he caught his breath, he let the toy fall from his grip and pushed it aside.
From there, the rest of the evening followed the same familiar routine.
He would take a shower, get dressed, make himself something for dinner, then spend the rest of the evening at his computer. He would spend his time editing the footage, preparing it for upload to the same porn site he had been posting on for years.
Except this time, there was no excitement after hitting the ‘post’ button, because you wouldn’t even be there to watch them.
After the video went live, he waited for the likes and comments to start pouring in, holding onto the faint hope that your username might appear among them.
As usual, it never did.
Surprisingly, though, that wasn’t what disappointed him this time.
Every time he jerked off with the intention to post a new video—your video was always in the background. It got to the point where people started to leave comments asking who the mysterious girl was. Who those sultry, seductive moans belonged to.
He would even get comments asking if he’d be willing to record another video of the two of you together and post it online.
Every time he read those comments, he would scoff, laughing to himself.
I would like to know the same thing.
After posting his latest video, his comment section had been flooding with the same demands for weeks.
wankingandspanking: hell yeah man! love the new video. but who’s the babe in the video you’re watching??
StraightJorkinIt: U breaking ur toy was so hot, but what’s even hotter is the girl moaning in the back. xx
Bwasexual: The toys are getting a little old, don’t you think?? Bring a real woman in. especially the one in the vid you’re jerking to ;)
Each comment was a direct insult to Bucky’s pride.
He was one of the platform’s top creators—yet now, his community was entirely consumed by you.
He had spent the last ten months trying to get you out of his head, trying to just use your video as a quick jerk off aid and move on. But how could he when his own fans wouldn’t let him forget?
How could he, when he couldn’t even cum to anything else anymore? His memory was flooded of the way his cock had disappeared in and out of your tight pussy while he had you bent over from behind. By the recollection of your cute, virgin mouth stuffed full of cock—his cock—for the first time ever.
How could he possibly forget how sweet your tight little body was, like it was made for him?
Bucky’s frustration was peaking. At the very least, he was making money off of this.
Just as he was about to shut down his computer and call it a night, a new notification popped up.
He clicked it, and what he saw made the air in his lungs vanish completely.
Pleasure_Ring: Love the video!
Bucky blinked.
Was he seeing this right?
He rubbed his eyes, but lo and behold, your comment was still there. He double—and triple—checked the username, ensuring every single letter matched and that it wasn’t some random copycat trying to impersonate you.
But no, it was you.
When he clicked your profile, the interface loaded your old message thread. He saw the green indicator showing you were currently online, sitting right above his last unanswered message asking you to film with him again.
He couldn’t believe it.
You were real. You were still here, ten months later, watching him.
Bucky didn’t realize he was holding his breath as his fingers hovered over the keyboard. He wanted to spam you with messages—to demand where the hell you’ve been, to beg for your phone number so he would never lose track of you again.
No, he couldn’t risk ruining this moment. He had to stay rational and seize this chance before you slipped through his fingers again.
Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: I saw the comment you left.
Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: Where have you been?
A minute passed. Then another. He propped both elbows on the desk, resting his chin on his hands, his foot tapping impatiently as he waited.
Three minutes went by. Your little icon was still green—you were still online.
Then, his heart leaped.
Pleasure_Ring is typing…
Pleasure_Ring: Why? Did you miss me?
Bucky’s brow twitched. Your messages from ten months ago had been sweet, alluring, and almost innocent. If you had been texting him consistently, he might’ve read this as a flirtatious little comment to make his dick hard.
But right now, he just felt pissed off.
Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: Quit playing around. Of course I missed you. Where did you go?
There were so many things he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t risk scaring you away just yet. His heart raced as he watched the screen.
Pleasure_Ring is typing…
Your bubble kept appearing and disappearing. You would type, then silence. You would type again, then nothing.
Bucky felt like he was going insane. He was just about ready to send another message himself, until one finally popped up under your name.
Pleasure_Ring: I think it’s best that we talk in person.
Pleasure_Ring: Can we exchange numbers?
And of course, Bucky gave you his number without a second thought.
You sat alone at the coffee shop Bucky had agreed to meet you at, fiddling with your mug and glancing anxiously out the window.
The meetup was set for noon, and the closer the clock ticked to the hour, the more your mind began to spiral.
It had been ten months since he last saw you. Ten months since he had you bent over your own bed, your face pressed into the pillows, ravaging you like an animal.
You were growing anxious. What if he had lost interest? What if he took one good look at you and realized you were nothing like the woman he had been infatuated with all this time?
The bell above the door chimed. You glanced up, and your breath caught in your throat.
Bucky was right there. He looked just as handsome as the day you met him. His presence seemed to take up the entire space of the coffee shop, just as it had when he first approached you at the grocery store.
His eyes swept across the room. The moment they landed on yours, your thighs instinctively clenched together. He was wearing that same cold, stern expression he had when he first told you to strip for him.
Naturally, it did things to you.
He marched over to your table, dragged the chair back, and dropped into the seat directly across from you. He didn’t bother with a polite smile, and his gaze didn’t warm up at all.
Was he angry? Was this a nuisance to him—taking time out of his busy day just to see a girl he slept with ten months ago?
“Bucky,” you breathed, forcing a polite smile. “How are you—”
“Where have you been?”
You blinked. You were about to stammer out a quick excuse, but he breezed on past.
“Ten months without a single word from you.” He leaned closer across the table. “Where have you been?”
Despite his harsh tone, he was anxiously bracing himself for your answer. He expected you to say you had lost interest, or that you found a boyfriend to practice your new... sexual experiences on. You hadn’t even given an explanation yet, and he was already fuming with jealousy.
You looked down at your coffee mug, avoiding his gaze. Looking him directly in the eye right now was simply too much to handle.
“I’m sorry I haven’t kept in touch,” you mumbled. “Ever since… that night, I’ve been… uh—how do I even say this?” You chuckled awkwardly, scratching lightly at your cheek. “I guess I’ve been feeling a little ashamed of myself.”
Bucky watched your shoulders slump as your hands fidgeted nervously in your lap.
“Ashamed?”
“Ever since we slept together, I’ve felt insecure about not being able to... keep up with you.” You winced. “I mean, you’re obviously experienced—I had a great time, and everything—but it made me realize that, at my age, when everyone else seems to be out there having fun and figuring things out, I’m nowhere near as experienced as they are.”
Your voice dropped lower as you glanced around the room.
It wasn’t exactly the kind of conversation suited for a small, intimate coffee shop.
Bucky frowned, crossing his arms. Your explanation wasn’t giving him the reassurance he had hoped for.
“So you were embarrassed about sleeping with me?”
Your eyes widened.
“No! It’s not like that.” You shook your head. “I had an incredible time with you. You gave me an experience I’ll never forget. I mean...” You leaned forward, lowering your voice to a conspicuous whisper. “You were the one who took my virginity, after all.”
That, at least, managed to draw the hint of a smile from him.
“It’s just...” you hesitated. “I’m ready to start dating, and in the current dating scene, sex matters, you know?”
There it was.
The sentence Bucky had been dreading.
While he had spent the last ten months thinking about you—worrying about you, searching for some way to reconnect, replaying the video you’d filmed together and jerking off to it, moaning your name—you had spent those same months looking forward to a future with someone else.
“So...” You hesitated. “After reading all those comments on your videos, the ones talking about how good I sound, and remembering the offer you made ten months ago to film another one...” Your gaze dropped briefly. “If that offer still stands, maybe you could teach me?”
“Teach you?” Bucky repeated, the words leaving him almost like a scoff.
Just as innocent as the day he first met you, you nodded shyly.
“Teach me how to be better at sex.”
An awkward silence took the space between the two of you.
You were preparing yourself for rejection. For Bucky to push back his chair, walk away, and decide this conversation had been a mistake. After this, you wouldn’t be surprised if he even blocked your number and your profile, cutting off the last connection between you.
Instead, he studied you for a very long moment.
“You know,” he said slowly, his gaze finding yours, “the comments have been asking us to film a video together, right?”
The look he gave you was difficult to read—careful, calculating, and almost suspicious.
“I know,” you said bashfully.
“If you want me to teach you,” he said, leaning forward as his voice dropped soft and intimate, “then we’re going to do the same thing we did before, but I want this done at my house instead. I’ll record.”
He paused, studying your reaction.
“And this time, I’m posting it online.”
You sat there frozen.
It wasn’t exactly the compromise you expected, but you couldn’t say you were entirely surprised. After disappearing from his life for months, after leaving things unresolved between you, part of you knew he would want something in return.
Bucky leaned in closer, his hand finding yours on the table. His fingers curled around yours, giving them a reassuring squeeze.
“You’ve read the comments,” he said. “You might be insecure about your experience, but my viewers love you. They’re curious. They want to know who the woman behind that voice is.”
Heat rushed to your face. The confidence in his words only made your pulse quicken, and the slow sweep of his thumb across your knuckles wasn’t helping at all.
“I’ll teach you everything you want to know,” he continued. “I’ll take care of you. You know I will.”
For a moment, his confidence faltered and his eyes looked pleading, revealing something almost hopeful beneath it.
“What do you say, doll?”
Your heart had been pounding ever since Bucky sat down across from you at the coffee shop. It hadn’t slowed once—not during the conversation, not during the drive over, and certainly not now as you stood behind him while he unlocked his apartment door.
Bucky stepped aside, holding the door open for you. After a moment's hesitation, you stepped inside.
The studio apartment was dimly lit. The blinds were drawn, leaving only the warm glow of a lamp to light the room. In one corner sat a computer setup—his workstation where he recorded and edited his videos.
Your breath caught at what was displaying on the monitor.
Your chat history.
His studio was the definition of a man cave. What caught your attention, however, were the sex toys scattered throughout the apartment without a hint of shame.
Some of the toys were immediately recognizable from his videos. Having been a longtime viewer, you had seen them often enough to identify them at a glance.
Bucky tossed his keys onto a nearby surface and motioned for you to follow him toward the bed. As you approached, your gaze landed on something unfamiliar at his bedside table.
“What’s this?” You pointed to a toy shaped like the lower half of a woman’s body. Unlike the others, you didn’t remember ever seeing this one in any of his videos.
Bucky glanced at it. “Oh, that?” He came to stand beside you. “Custom made. I use it off-camera.” His tone was casual, almost dismissive. “Had it modeled after you.”
You were suddenly grateful for the low lighting, because that meant he couldn’t see the stunned expression that immediately crossed your face.
Modeled after you?
Your eyes drifted back to the toy, taking in the details—the shape of the hips, the skin tone, it was an unmistakable similarity. What shook you up, though, was the tear in the toy around her upper abdomen, a sign that Bucky’s cock tore right through the silicone.
The sounds of his belt buckle being undone drew your attention back to him.
“Had it set to the maximum tightness,” he explained gruffly, setting the belt down on his chair and reaching for the familiar camcorder he used before. “Still not nearly as tight as you felt—but it made do during those ten months you were gone.”
A moment later, he lifted the camera and pointed it in your direction, the red light flickering to let you know it was on.
“Go ahead,” he prompted, watching you. “Undress.”
You bit your lip as you stood in front of him, feeling far more self-conscious than you expected.
For some reason, the atmosphere felt infinitely more tense than it had the first time you undressed for him.
Bucky seemed to notice your hesitation immediately. He lowered the camera slightly.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don't know about this, Bucky.” You fiddled with your fingers, unable to meet his gaze. Instead, you focused on your bare feet against the floor. “What if I'm not good at this?”
A slow, patient sigh escaped him.
Without a word, he set the camera on the bedside table. It remained angled in a way that still captured your body, but his attention had shifted entirely to you. His hands found the hem of your shirt and lifted it up, letting his fingers tickle your lower belly.
“Are you feeling shy, doll?” he murmured softly.
The question was quiet enough so that the camera wouldn’t pick it up. It wasn’t meant for an audience. It was just for you.
“Look at me,” he commanded gently. “You’ve got a perfect, tight body. There are a lot of people that would kill to be in my position, and you’re scared to show it off?”
He lifted your shirt up until it exposed the lace of your bra. His large hand cupped over your breast, giving it a squeeze that made you gasp softly.
Bucky grinned. “Ah, there she is.”
While his left hand fondled your tits, his other hand crept up to your chin, tilting your head so you were forced to look at him. His eyes wandered down to your lips—exposed, plump, and vulnerable.
“When you get a boyfriend—you’ll have to learn how to kiss,” Bucky murmured. “Do you know how?”
The question felt almost condescending. He should already know the answer. You were still inexperienced, still clueless, but despite it all, you couldn’t help the ache that began to form between your legs from the way he talked to you.
Your voice came out soft and trembling, but to Bucky, it sounded like music to his ears.
“… Teach me?”
A low growl vibrated from his lips as he closed the distance in one, smooth motion. His lips collided with yours—hungry and consuming—letting his tongue delve past your lips and into the wet warmth of your mouth.
He held your face tight, forcing you to take every inch of his tongue and every surface of his lips. It was hot, messy, and wet. During every second of his ravishing, his hands continued to explore your body, groping you through your bottoms. He held you so close, you could already feel him throbbing against your leg.
“Fuck,” he groaned against your lips, pulling away slightly to catch his breath. “Still taste so good. So sweet, just for me.”
He stepped away, breathing just as hard as his dick felt.
With the warm lamp glowing next to him, it outlined the sheer size of his dick throbbing in his pants. You watched it pulse, a little wet spot forming near the tip, before his large hand came down with deep, circular rubs to soothe the ache.
“Bucky…” You gasped softly.
His other hand snatched the camera off the bedside table, nearly knocking down the picture frames. With a shaky hand, he lifted the camera up to you again.
“Strip.” He commanded, rougher this time. “Strip. Now.”
Your heart raced. His patience was fraying, and without upsetting him further, you began to undress. You abandoned your top, your pants, all until you were left standing in nothing but your panties and bra.
Bucky groaned at the sight, his palm working faster over his clothed erection.
“God, look at that,” he zoomed in on the wet spot collecting at the front of your panties. “You’re fucking soaking for me, doll. And all I did was kiss you.”
Shame flooded your face. As you unhooked your bra and worked for your panties next, Bucky’s voice pulled you to a stop.
“No,” his hand shot out, catching your wrist. “Keep those on. I want to see the mess you’ll make after having my dick in your mouth.”
With his grip tightening around your wrist, he ushered you to the ground until your knees made contact with the floor. He tugged his pants down with force, and his cock sprang out heavy—slapping you in the cheek and making you wince.
He was big and hard. Seeing him up close like this, with his hand around his shaft and his tip rubbing against your cheek, you weren’t sure how you took him the first time.
“Do you remember the first time you sucked my cock? When you tried fitting it all in on your first try?” he rasped a chuckle, slapping his cock against your face and smearing his pre-cum over your wet lips. “Your mouth was so small—you could hardly fit anything past the tip.”
You flicked your tongue out, giving his cock a shy kitten lick just to tease him.
“Oh, fuck,” he shuddered. “You slut. You want it in your mouth again? Wanna try again for me?”
He pointed the camera closer to your face, his other hand tangling in the back of your hair, nodding you closer to his shaft.
“Come on. Open up. Show me what you remember.”
You licked the pre-cum that was beading at the tip. It tasted just like it did the first time—salty and thick. Bucky groaned, his hand tightening in your hair, pushing you forward for more.
You opened your mouth, letting your lips wrap around the swollen head. His cock was warm and hot, already twitching in your mouth and he wasn’t even halfway. Encouraged by the camera and his breathy grunts, you sunk your head deeper.
Bucky felt like he could cum right there. Your mouth was still so tight and inexperienced. He was half tempted to pin you against the side of the bed and face fuck you until his balls were dry—but he forced himself to hold back.
“God. Is this—fuck—the best you can do, really?”
He brought his camera down, the lens pointing right where his tip disappeared in and out of your plump lips, making sure to pick up every wet squelch that left your mouth.
“You can do better than that,” he hissed, pushing his cock deeper into your throat. “I know it hurts, baby. Just remember what I said the first time. Stretch those lips, relax your jaw, breathe in and out of your nose.”
You fluttered your lashes as you looked up at him. Your eyes were sheen with tears that threatened to spill out from the ache of your mouth being stretched open. He rocked his hips forward, making you gag and choke.
“Oh, christ,” he grunted, his cock twitching as your throat tightened around him. “You guys listening to that? She’s gagging for me.”
He was talking to his potential viewers. Your eyes widened with embarrassment as an instinctive moan left your lips and vibrated around his cock.
“Mph!”
“Fuck, she’s sloppy—drooling all over my floor, but her mouth is so tight. Could cum just from this,” he started drawing his hips back and forth, forcing himself deeper.
He angled the camera closer to your face, capturing your pleading eyes and stretched mouth.
“Does it taste good, sweetheart?” he asked, despite knowing your inability to answer. “Come on, show that pretty face off for the camera.”
With your mouth stuffed full of his cock, all you could do was nod in desperation.
“Damn, what a good girl. The fans are going to love this,” he let out a shaky laugh.
His hand kept your head still, and without warning, he pushed his hips even deeper into your mouth. He pushed until your jaw ached from the stretch and your nose made contact with the dark, musky curls sitting on his pelvis.
Bucky tossed his head back, letting out a deep, pleasurable moan.
“Ohh, shit.”
You gagged and choked, your hands finding his bare thighs as you attempted to push your head away for a quick breath. His cock was sitting heavy on your tongue, and drool began to shamelessly drip down your chin and onto your thighs.
Despite your mouth being overworked, you were getting wetter by the second.
“Shh… shh. I know, baby. Just stay right there.” Bucky cooed, his blue eyes hazy with lust. “Just let it sit in your mouth. Breathe in and out through your nose. That’s it.”
You did as instructed, keeping your mouth stuffed full of cock like a good girl. But every time you breathed in, all you could smell was him. His musky, masculine scent only made your head spin with desire even more.
Another deep groan tore from his chest before he gripped your hair tight, pulling you away from his cock with a wet pop. Saliva mixed with his pre-cum drew from your lips like a silver string as you coughed for air.
“Fuuck,” he groaned, fucking his hand for a few pumps as he watched you struggle.
Bucky’s cock was angry, pulsing and throbbing with a mind of its own. His cock was sheen with your saliva, and he was dripping out so much pre-cum, he looked just about ready to cum right then and there.
“Goddamnit. Ten months later, and your mouth is still good enough to make me almost fucking cum,” he hissed angrily. He bent down, catching your stray tear with his thumb. “Don’t cry, pretty girl. You wanted me to teach you, didn’t you?”
He spoke so gently in a way that might’ve fooled his viewers, but every word that left his lips felt hauntingly patronizing.
You nodded with a sniffle. “Y—yes…”
Bucky smiled, his eyes softening as he took in your utterly debauched state.
He knew he was being a little mean, but he couldn’t help it. It’s what you deserved after ghosting him for ten months.
“That’s a good girl. My girl.” He nodded to his bed, standing up. “Go.”
Swallowing hard, you pushed yourself up—your mind dizzying and your legs feeling like jello from standing up too fast. You crossed over his crisp, white sheets—the mattress dipping under each crawl.
You didn’t know what position he wanted you in, so you played it safe and laid flat on your back.
Bucky’s expression was completely unreadable. His eyes were dark, his breathing labored, but his cock was still stiff, angry, and unsatisfied.
He adjusted the camera, zooming in on the cute bow on your panties.
“Spread your legs. Show everyone how wet you are after getting a taste of my cock.”
Biting your lip and turning your head from shame, you slowly spread your legs. With your thighs wide and your damp panties on full display, Bucky’s gaze somehow felt even heavier and more tense.
He growled, a deep rumbling sound of satisfaction. He stepped closer, meeting you at the bed. Every dip and creak from his moving weight made your heart race. His camera lens was focused solely on your panties, highlighting the growing wet patch on your crotch.
“Mm,” he hummed, his fingers dragging up and down your underwear, letting the fabric cling against your slick folds just underneath. “So wet. Could smell you from here, baby.”
You felt your body growing weaker by the second.
You wanted to beg him to fuck you—to take you just as he had the first time. But with the camera pointed steady in his hands, you knew he was trying to drag this out for as long as possible.
“Bucky,” you panted, eyes pleading. “I can’t take it anymore. I need your cock—”
“Aw, you’re begging?” Bucky huffed a laugh. “Ten months without a single word, and now you’re in my bed, demanding for my cock. That’s real cute, doll.”
Bucky brought the camera up to your face, and instinctively, you shied away from it. Despite your agreement to film, the lens pointing directly at you made you burn with an embarrassment you didn’t feel the first time.
Maybe because, in the back of your mind, you knew he’d be posting this one online—meaning you’ll be watched by thousands of people.
Sensing your hesitation, he lowered the camera with a slight frown, brows furrowing.
“Do you want to stop, doll?”
Stop?
Your heart clenched, eyes widening as you faced him.
“Stop?” you repeated softly, making sure you heard him right.
The softness in his eyes made your body feel warm. Bucky lowered his camera completely and angled it in a way that wouldn’t capture you in this vulnerable state. He was serious. He would stop for you if you changed your mind, despite your initial agreement to this as the compromise.
“If you don’t want me to upload this, I won’t.” He reassured. “I’ll keep this video for myself—just like the first one.”
His hand found your hip, his thumb tracing soft and gentle circles with a tenderness that only encouraged you to give yourself to him completely.
“I promise,” he added.
“No. I… I want to do this,” you searched his eyes, trying to soothe your nerves. “I can do it, Bucky. Please teach me.”
It was hard to ignore the way his cock hung heavy between his legs—twitching at your admission. The corners of his lips tugged up in a satisfied, smug smile.
“That’s my good girl.”
While one hand repositioned the camera back to you again, the other found the waistband of your panties, giving it a gentle tug downwards. With the fabric slipping slipping down your thighs and past your ankles, you hissed at the cool air greeting your wet cunt.
“Christ. You soaked the fabric right through, doll.” He held the garment up, the lamp highlighting every glistening wet spot as he made sure to capture your essence on camera.
He leaned over you with a grunt, setting your panties down on the side table. Your eyes followed his movement, and you sucked in a breath at seeing the toy he modeled right after you—resting there with a loose hole and an obvious tear in the abdomen.
It was haunting, almost like a warning for what you’re about to take.
Bucky nestled himself in the space between your legs, letting his length rest heavy on your stomach. His tip tickled your belly button, grinning proudly at the size comparison of his cock to your body.
“Did you fuck anyone else after me?” he rasped as he rocked his hips back and forth, grounding his cock against your belly.
You shook your head, face blistering from the sensation.
“No, Bucky. There was no one else…”
A satisfied groan tore from his lips. He grabbed himself at the base, guiding the tip toward your entrance.
“Is that so?” he mumbled. “Let’s see if you’re telling the truth.”
With a slow forward push of his hips, his tip fought against the tightness of your entrance. He sucked in a breath as he slipped in deeper, and your walls immediately clenched around the intrusion. You were so tight—Bucky had to grit his teeth to keep his composure.
Whimpering, you held onto his shoulders for support as he stretched you from just the tip. “Fu—fuck..”
“Fuck, baby. Still so goddamn tight. Just breathe in and out,” he gasped, his voice thickening in a way that made it sound like he was trying to calm himself down. “In and out while I sink into you deeper. That’s it. Good girl…”
Your back arched off the bed as he filled you. Your legs were stiff around him, your lips whimpering and mewling with every inch he was forcing your tight body to take. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple as he stretched your pussy out with just half his cock.
“Have you been keeping up with my videos?” He asked.
You couldn’t bring yourself to answer. You were too stuffed—too concentrated on trying to get your body to accommodate the sheer size of him.
“I—I haven’t—” you answered truthfully.
He clicked his tongue in disapproval, pointing the camcorder to where the top half of his cock disappeared in and out of your tight cunt.
“The videos would’ve scared you,” he pushed his cock a little deeper, making you cry out. “Kept breaking my toys. All my damn fleshlights are torn right through. Had to keep ordering new ones, but fuck, they didn’t feel nearly as good as your tight, virgin pussy did.”
The broken sex doll that laid on his bedside table was certainly a testament to that.
Bucky’s hand found balance near the side of your head, his muscles and veins popping from holding his weight while the other hand was too occupied filming every inch of his cock delving deeper in your pussy.
“How does it feel, baby? Still as big as you remembered?”
“Still big, Bucky,” you winced when he angled his pelvis, his cock twitching in time with every clench your pussy gave him. “I’m trying to take it all—to big the good girl that you remembered—”
He tossed his head back with a groan. He tried his best to control himself—he really did. But the longer he stayed inside your warmth, the more his mind started to fray.
“Fuck—so cute. Such a good girl,” he groaned, sheathing himself completely inside until his dark curls were greeted with your wet folds. “Oh my god.”
Bucky stilled inside you, basking in your warmth. Your body felt like a wet, tight hug wrapping around his cock. This was the sensation he sought after the day you left. The very feeling he’d been looking for in the useless sex toys he was constantly ordering.
Now that you were finally here—pinned beneath him and his camera—he was afraid that if he moved, he would cum right there on the spot.
“Bucky?” your voice was soft, breaking into a gentle moan. “Are you okay?”
His eyes fluttered down to look at you, and his breath caught.
Your hair was fanned out so beautifully against his white sheets. Your body was laid bare and perfect for him. You asked the question in such a soft and innocent tone—it did nothing to dull the ache in his balls and did everything to make his heart heavier.
He should be asking you the question, with you lying there stretched out with more than you can take, but alas.
“You’re asking if I’m okay?” he huffed a raspy laugh, shifting his hips to deliver a deep and hard thrust inside you. “No, I’m not okay. I want to fuck you right through the mattress. Want to split you open and make you cry on my cock. But I can’t—I have to control myself and teach you how to take me again.”
The red light of the camcorder flickered in the dark room as he began rocking his hips, his cock sliding in and out of you—capturing every moment of him claiming you a second time.
The bed started to creak, accompanied with his grunts and your soft moans of pleasure.
Bucky’s breathing was heavy, every deep, punishing roll of his hips making your eyes roll back.
The tip of his cock was kissing your cervix so sweetly, you felt your body giving out. He was right—your pussy was acting like a vice, wrapping impossibly tight around his thick shaft, refusing to let him go.
The camera shook in his hand as he aimed it directly at your hips. He had failed to capture the moment he pumped you full of his cum last time, and he was going to make damn sure he got it right tonight.
“Not a single drop going to waste,” he panted, his hips rutting uncontrollably against yours. “Gonna pump you full—God. Should fill up your womb so you’ll never leave me again.”
Your heart started to race as his words danced in your mind. Surely, this was just make-believe dirty talk. A performance he put on for the camera to secure a good payout from his loyal subscribers, right?
But as his body moved even more erratically, the bed groaning under every hard, bruising thrust, you began to fear otherwise.
“Fuck—this little slut thought she could use my cock to practice for other men,” he laughed, the sound deep and condescending. “Said she wanted to learn how to take dick for her future boyfriend. What a fucking joke.”
Your face burned with humiliation. You couldn’t believe Bucky was airing out your private confessions to his viewers like this.
“Oh my god! Bucky, please don’t say that—”
But your protests were useless. Your pussy was already spasming, clenching around him in a tight, weeping mess at every degrading taunt that left his lips.
“Ah, fuck. My sweet girl is milking me so hard—she doesn’t want to let go.” He chuckled, watching the wet friction of your hips through the camera screen. “You want to cum for me?”
You nodded, letting out a pathetic whimper.
Bucky leaned over you, shoving the camera close to your face. “Come on, baby. You’re on camera. I need you to speak up so everyone else can hear you.”
Pleasure was coursing through your body in ways that a simple vibrator could never match. Ten months without Bucky—and without touching anyone else—had left you chasing a high you couldn’t replicate. It was never like this.
You nodded frantically, losing all control over your own autonomy as tears of pleasure blurred your vision.
“Yes, Bucky! Please—please, please, I want to cum!”
Your cries were loud enough to peak the camera’s built-in microphone. Your walls clamped down around his cock, pulsing and fluttering as your back arched off the mattress with a loud moan, letting the climax rip straight through your core and down to very tip of your toes.
Bucky groaned, his entire body going stiff as your pussy milked him ruthlessly. Fuck. He missed this. He missed the tightness of your cunt. He couldn’t find this sensation anywhere else.
“Christ. Look at that,” he growled into the camera, his hand shaking as he kept the lens focused on where you squeezed around him. “She’s squeezing me so tight—it nearly hurts. Fuck, I’m gonna cum too.”
His balls slapped against your pussy with every hard thrust. He was chasing his release—his face twisted into a mask of pleasure as he felt his balls tighten and his cock twitch. You were already past your high, but Bucky forced you to ride it out for him.
“Shit, the idea of her having sex with someone else...” he snarled to the camera, his voice breaking as he slammed deep into your pulsing heat. “...of someone else’s cock buried deep in what’s supposed to be mine. I’m gonna fucking lose it.”
You cried out his name, your nails digging into his back as he used your body ruthlessly, just like one of his sex toys.
“Fuck, fuck—shit—fuck!”
A litany of curses spilled from his lips as his cock buried all the way to the hilt.
He shuddered violently, pinning your hips flat against the mattress as his orgasm tore through him, flooding every surface of your womb with thick, warm seed. He held himself deep, marking you from the inside out, leaving his cum to fill you completely until it was dripping onto the sheets.
Bucky brought the camera down with a shaky hand, capturing the way your puffy slit was pulsing around his cock, and the way his cum trickled out of you.
“There we go,” he breathed, satisfied. “Captured every second of it, baby.”
Ensuring that you kept your end of the bargain, Bucky uploaded the video to his profile.
Before hitting post, he texted you multiple times to make absolutely sure you were comfortable with your face and username being shown.
When you finally agreed, you never expected the video to blow up overnight. You knew Bucky was a popular content creator, but perhaps the sight of a woman’s body—your body—in the thumbnail stood out against his usual solo content.
Today, you sat at your desk, pulling up his profile out of habit, just like the ritual you used to have ten months ago. Your mouse hovered over the video, and you hesitated before clicking.
Two million views.
A wave of nerves hit you—the thought of being perceived by two million strangers while completely bare and vulnerable was overwhelming. Yet, for some reason, the idea of it excited you more than a girl like you should admit.
You finally clicked the link. The video started with you stripping for him, then dropping to your knees, and just minutes later, you were sprawled out bare on the mattress while he pumped you full of his cum.
You were already soaking through your underwear just watching it, your thighs rubbing together shamelessly from the memory of being filled by Bucky. The way his breathy moans sounded so much more enthusiastic than they ever did in his solo videos filled you with absolute pride.
You made him feel that good.
And apparently, you made his entire comment section feel good, too.
Daddywants2play: hooooooooolyy fuck. she’s so hot. my balls are so heavy just from watching her tits bounce. u lucky dog
Bwasexual: Omg!!! Do you guys need a third?
pegm3please: God so fucking hot. Is she going to upload anytime soon?? Just gave her a follow.
Your brow rose at the last comment.
Gave her a follow?
Instinctively, your mouse hovered to the top right of the screen where the notification bell was displayed.
It showed over 99+ alerts. You were used to seeing two at the absolute maximum—a like from Bucky on one of your comments, and his reply.
Bracing yourself, you clicked it, and a wall of notifications flooded the screen with dozens of different usernames following you. Your follower count had gone from exactly one—Bucky’s account—to well over a thousand in just a single night.
You couldn’t believe it.
People loved watching you.
They loved you enough that, despite you having zero videos posted, no profile picture, and an entirely blank description, they were hitting follow anyway—eagerly expecting to see more. You mentally patted yourself on the back for having the foresight to remove the links to your personal social media accounts beforehand.
A warm flush traced your face. The crazy part was, it wasn’t from embarrassment at all.
It was pure excitement.
Without thinking, you snatched your phone off the desk and dialed a familiar number. It only rang twice before a deep, sleepy voice answered on the other end.
“Hey, doll,” Bucky rasped. “Everything okay?”
“I just saw the video,” you said, the words tumbling out fast. You couldn’t contain your excitement. “I woke up to a little over a thousand followers—and there are so many comments!”
He paused on the line. You could hear the rustle of sheets as he sat up.
“… And are you okay with that? Do you want me to take it down?”
You bit your lip. You couldn’t believe what you were going to say next. “I’m more than okay with it. But… um…”
Bucky’s brow furrowed. He pulled the phone away from his face for a split second to make sure you were still on the line.
“Sweetheart, what is it?”
A breathy sigh left your lips. “I… I want to become a content creator, too. Will you teach me?”
And just like that, the air left Bucky’s lungs completely.
Everything he could possibly want—and more—was finally being served to him on a silver platter.
This meant more videos, more collaborations, and endless opportunities to have you completely to himself.
“Yes,” he swiped at his camcorder and car keys. “I’m coming over. Be ready for me.”
hopping off the bed turn my swag on. happy almost one year anniversary to pornstar bucky and the first bwa collab. once again, thank you to my dear friend @unificsation for the premise. thank you to @barnesonly for the cyber sex bucky edit she made inspired by this fic that i goon to nightly. thank you to @blowingbarnes and @buckybunni for being pornstar bucky's number one fan (i never forgot) thank you to @houseofhyde for giving me the inspiration to write this after sum silly joke. and thank you for all the love and support for part one. i would like to dedicate this oscar to you guys /j
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PAWLINE, YOU MADE MY DREAM COME TRUE. PRNSTAR PT.2???? OKAY I LOVED IT, GOSHHHH. thats literally me, hello 🤓 i've been a fan of this fic such a long time, i even know some parts of the pt.1
but this...this is a masterpiece, i feel so related, and literally had me rolling over my bed and (s)creaming. like, i need a new pair of underwear 💔
lexa lexa lexa we haven’t spoken in a minute how are you also belated happy birthday
helllloooouuah, yeah, we havent talked in a while, ive been good, except for some days i woke up feeling like trash, but other than that. ive been really good. except i haven't finished any of my fics 😛 procrastination has taken over me and my bad english too LMAOO.
𝑬𝑳𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵 𝑶’𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑪𝑲 𝑺𝑰𝑵 A late-night donut delivery turns into something far sweeter and filthier, than Sheriff Bodecker ever expected from the town’s purest little angel.
lee bodecker x fem!reader
word count : 8,2k
warnings 18+ : explicit sexual content, dddne, no use of y/n, age gap, corruption of innocence, virginity loss, drunk sex, food play, oral sex (f & m revieving), creampie, come eating, unhygienic sex, degradation mixed with praise, size kink, light spanking, possessive behavior, no aftercare, raw sex, panty gagging, extreme filth, uncut lee, maternal control (reader has a curfew), religious-adjacent blasphemy,
author’s note : anotha one for our filthy sheriff wohooo we cheered 🎉🎉🎉 I went a little crazy with this one so pls bear with me… make sure you REAAD through the warnings before continuing because this one gets a lil icky 😵💫😵💫 and don’t come for me afterwards because I am NOT responsible for your media consumption!! as always hope you enjoy <33
The back office of the Knockemstiff sheriff’s station stank like a drunk’s ashtray left to fester: cigarette butts piled high in a chipped coffee mug until they spilled over the rim like dirty snow, Jack Daniel’s sweating slow from the open bottle on the desk, the thick, greasy ghost of yesterday’s chili dogs still clinging to every surface. The air was heavy, stale, the kind of smell that settled into clothes and skin and never quite left.
The single desk lamp buzzed overhead like a dying insect, flickering every few seconds and throwing sickly yellow light across the room in unsteady pulses. Shadows jumped on the walls, mean, jagged things that made the place feel smaller, more trapped.
Lee Bodecker belonged in that filth the way a hog belongs in wallow: shirt half-unbuttoned and sweat-soaked, clinging to the coarse black hair on his chest; belly hanging heavy over the straining leather of his belt, uniform pants riding low; armpits dark with rings of sweat; badge crooked on his chest like it had given up trying to look respectable.
He was deep into the bottle tonight, more than halfway gone, the cheap stuff that burned clean at first and then just burned. His thoughts moved slow and thick, like molasses poured over broken glass. The night shift had dragged on empty: no calls, no drunks to haul in, no fights to break up, just him, the fan rattling uselessly in the corner and the low, mournful howl of a hound somewhere far off in the dark.
He lifted the bottle again, took a long, sloppy pull. The whiskey slid down easy now, no sting left, just heat blooming in his gut and spreading outward until his fingertips tingled. He set the bottle down too hard; it clinked against the scarred wood, amber liquid sloshing up the sides. His head lolled a little, eyes half-lidded and bloodshot, staring at nothing.
Then the door creaked.
You pushed it open with your hip, careful, like you were afraid of making too much noise. Both hands cradled a grease-spotted paper sack that still steamed faintly, radiating the clean, holy warmth of fresh dough and sugar.
You really were the sweetest thing this godforsaken town had ever managed to produce: big, soft doe eyes, cheeks flushed pink from the night air and the heat of the bakery oven, hair pinned back neatly with a tiny daisy clip your mama had bought you last Easter.
Your apron was crisp white cotton, tied in a perfect bow at the small of your back and your skirt, modest enough for church but short enough to flutter high on the walk over, showed the delicate lace tops of your stockings with every hesitant step across the threshold.
You smelled like vanilla extract, warm yeast and the faintest trace of the lavender soap you used every morning. A walking Sunday morning dropped right into the middle of his Saturday night sewer.
Lee blinked slow, once, twice, like the whiskey was painting you at the edges, making you shimmer. He rubbed a greasy hand over his face, trying to clear the haze but it only smeared the sweat and grime. His gaze dragged over you anyway: lazy, hungry, unfocused at the corners. From the bow in your apron to the flush on your cheeks, down to the way your skirt moved against your thighs, then back up to those wide, trusting eyes.
You swallowed, clutching the sack a little tighter to your chest like it could shield you from whatever look he was giving you.
“Sheriff Bodecker,” you said, voice small and trembling, barely louder than the lamp’s buzz, “I- I couldn’t sleep knowin’ you were sittin’ here all alone on the night shift again. Mama says the devil finds work for idle hands and I just… I thought maybe you’d like somethin’ warm. So I brought you some donuts. They’re still hot from the fryer. Glazed, the way you like ‘em.”
Lee stared at you another long beat. The words took time to sink through the whiskey fog. Then a slow, crooked grin split his face, sloppy, uneven, showing too much teeth.
“Hot, huh?” His voice came out thick and slurred, gravel dragged through moonshine, every syllable running into the next. “Well goddamn… look at you, angel. Comin’ all the way down here in the dark just to feed a sorry ol’ pig like me.”
He took another pull from the bottle, longer this time, throat bobbing visibly, Adam’s apple working under the skin. When he lowered it, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, leaving a shiny streak across his knuckles.
“C’mere,” he rasped, patting his thick thigh with a heavy, meaty slap that echoed in the small room. “Come closer, sweetheart. Let me see what kinda sugar a pure little thing like you’s offerin’ a dirty old man on a night when he’s half-drowned already.”
You stood frozen for half a heartbeat, the paper sack crinkling softly against your chest like a shield you weren’t sure you wanted to lower. The room felt smaller now, hotter, thicker with him watching you like that, bloodshot eyes half-lidded but burning. Your knees pressed so tight together you could feel the tremor running up your thighs but something deeper, something curious and fluttering low in your belly, made your feet inch forward anyway.
One slow step. Then another. The soles of your sensible Mary Janes whispered across the grime-streaked floor until you were close enough that the heat rolling off his body mixed with the vanilla steam from the donuts and the sour whiskey haze clinging to him. Your gaze, wide, innocent, unable to help itself dropped to the thick, insistent bulge straining the front of his uniform slacks. The fabric looked ready to split; a dark, damp spot had already spread at the tip like ink on blotting paper.
A tiny, involuntary gasp slipped past your lips before you could catch it.
“Oh… goodness,” you breathed, voice so small it barely carried over the lamp’s buzz. “You… you look so uncomfortable, Sheriff. Like it’s hurtin’ real bad.”
Lee’s laugh came out low and filthy, more a rumble in his chest than anything clean. He spread his thighs wider with deliberate slowness, heavy boots scraping the dirty floor in a slow, grating drag that sent a shiver racing up your spine. The motion made his belly shift, his open shirt gaping further to show more sweat-damp chest hair.
“Uncomfortable don’t even come close, baby girl,” he slurred, words thick and running together like spilled syrup. “Been sittin’ here hard as iron since that sweet little pussy-scent floated through the door. Like heaven walked right into hell and didn’t even knock.”
His meaty palm slapped down on his own thigh again, denim smacking loud in the quiet room. “C’mere. Bring them hot little treats over here where they belong. Let’s see if that sugar fits right where I been dreamin’ about it.”
Your cheeks burned so hot you thought they might catch fire. You could feel the flush spreading down your neck, across your collarbones, even under the crisp white apron.
But your body moved before your mind could argue, slow hesitant steps closing the last foot of distance until you stood trembling between his spread knees. Close enough now that you could see the individual dark hairs curling over his knuckles, the way his chest rose and fell a little faster, the faint tremor in the hand still wrapped around the neck of the Jack Daniel’s bottle.
Lee watched you squirm for a long moment, savoring every nervous flutter of your lashes. Then a slow, crooked, filthy grin spread across his face. He took one last sloppy pull from the bottle, throat working visibly, before setting it aside with a careless clatter.
“Angel… you know what’d feel real good right now?” He patted his thigh again, slower this time, the slap of his palm echoing in the small room. “Them hot little donuts you brought. Warm, sticky, sweet as sin. I’m thinkin’… slide one right down over this achin’ cock of mine. Let that glaze melt all over me while you watch. Dress me up pretty, like I’m some kinda filthy present just for you.”
Your eyes went huge, shock, confusion, and a tiny spark of dark curiosity flickering behind the innocence.
“You… you mean… put a donut… on it?” you whispered, voice barely audible over the fan’s hum. “Like… like a ring? But… but that’s so… so naughty, Sheriff. I don’t know if that’s… proper.”
He chuckled low and ragged, the sound vibrating through his chest like gravel. “Proper? Baby girl, we passed proper the second you walked through that door smellin’ like vanilla and church. This ain’t about proper. This is about feelin’ somethin’ nasty-sweet. Come on… just try it. For your poor, lonely sheriff. One little donut. See how it looks. See how it feels.”
You swallowed hard, fingers tightening on the sack until the paper crinkled loudly. Your eyes were locked on the bulge now, wide, fascinated, a tiny tremble in your lower lip.
“I… I don’t know…” you breathed but your body leaned forward just a fraction, betraying you. “It’s… it’s so big already. And it looks so… mad. Won’t it… hurt the donut? Or… or you?”
Lee groaned at your words, half laugh, half curse. “Hurt? Darlin’, the only thing hurtin’ right now is how bad I need that warm sugar wrapped around me. Ain’t gonna hurt nothin’. Just gonna make it feel like heaven and hell at the same time.”
Without another word, without even breaking eye contact, his big hands moved to his belt. The buckle clinked open with a sharp metallic snap. The zipper rasped down in one slow pull.
He hauled his cock out shamelessly, no hesitation, letting it spring free and slap heavily against the soft swell of his belly: thick as your wrist, veined and ridged, flushed an angry purplish red. The fat, bulbous head was partially hooded by a thick, wrinkled foreskin that had retracted just enough to expose the glistening, sensitive tip, already slick and shiny with a day’s worth of trapped sweat, pre-cum that had gathered underneath, giving off a heavy, masculine musk.
The sudden raw sight made you freeze mid-reach, your hand halfway into the sack, fingers brushing the warm edge of the first donut. Your breath caught audibly; your eyes went impossibly wider, pupils blown as you stared at the heavy, uncut length now bobbing openly between you.
“Oh… oh my goodness…” you whispered, voice cracking into a tiny squeak. The donut slipped slightly in your shaking grip, glaze sticking to your fingertips.
Lee wrapped a loose fist around the base and slowly stroked, working the thick foreskin back and forth over the leaking head.
“Look at that,” he rasped, voice thick with lust. “See how it’s covered up? That’s the foreskin, baby girl. Pull it down for me first. Nice and slow. Show me you can be a good little helper.”
Your fingers trembled as you reached out hesitantly, barely brushing the warm, heavy shaft.
“Like… like this?” you whispered, voice tiny and shy.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he rasped, voice dropping lower, coaxing. “Slow. Real slow. Wrap those pretty little fingers around the skin… yeah, just like that. Now ease it back gently. Don’t yank it- nice and easy… there we go. Good girl.”
You obeyed with shaky hands, gently tugging the thick foreskin down until the fat, glossy head slipped free, flushed dark and glistening with pre-cum. A thick bead dripped from the slit and ran down the underside.
Lee groaned deep in his chest, hips twitching. “Fuck… look how pretty and wet it is now. Perfect for your warm sugar.”
He gave you a filthy, encouraging smile. “Now… line that hot donut up with the head, angel. Slow. Let it melt on me. Watch what it does.”
Your fingers trembled so badly the paper rustled like dry leaves as you finally obeyed, pulling out the first glazed donut. It was still steaming faintly, sugar glistening wet under the flickering lamp, already melting a little at the edges from the heat of your palm.
You held it up between you like something fragile and forbidden, eyes darting between the donut and the thick, twitching cock now fully exposed and shamelessly waiting.
“Like this?” you whispered, voice small and trembling. “Just… slide it down?”
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he rasped, voice dropping lower, coaxing. “Slow. Real slow. Line it up with the head… yeah, just like that. Don’t be scared. Let it melt on me. Watch what it does.”
You hesitated, eyes flicking from the donut to his face, then down to the leaking tip, then, biting your lip hard enough to leave a mark, you eased the warm ring down over the swollen head.
The glaze immediately began to melt from his body heat, running in slow, sticky rivers along the shaft, coating every raised vein, dripping in fat drops over his heavy, drawn-up balls.
Lee groaned like he’d been gut-shot, deep, ragged, head falling back against the creaking chair with a loud creak. His hips jerked up involuntarily as the warm, sugary heat enveloped him.
“Fuuuuck- that’s it, baby,” he slurred, voice thick and wrecked. “Goddamn, feel that hot glaze meltin’ all over my cock… slidin’ right down under my foreskin. Look what you did, angel. You made my dirty old dick look so fuckin’ pretty and sweet.”
Your breath hitched. You stared, transfixed, at the obscene sight: the donut slowly collapsing, sugar melting and sliding down his length in glistening trails. Something fluttered low in your belly, shame, curiosity, a spark of dark fascination.
“It’s… it’s meltin’ all over you,” you whispered, voice soft with wonder. “Like… like it’s huggin’ you. Does it… does it feel nice, Sheriff?”
“Nice?” He laughed, ragged, dirty. “Sweetheart, you got my old dick throbbin’ like it’s gonna burst. Never felt nothin’ this nasty-sweet in my life. Now…” He guided your trembling hand back to the sack. “Grab another one. Stack it. Make me a real pretty tower. Show me how good you can be.”
Your breath caught.
Stack… more?
On that?
Your face felt like it was on fire, hotter than when the oven timer went off too late and everything came out singed at the edges. You’d already eased one warm glazed donut down his thick, leaking length like some shameful bakery display. Now he wanted a whole tower?
“I- I don’t know if they’ll stay…” you whispered, voice tiny, eyes darting up to his for any sign you were doing it wrong.
Lee’s grin stretched slow, whiskey-rough. “They won’t, angel. That’s half the fun. Go on. Be good for me.”
Kneeling between his spread boots, skirt fanned out on the gritty floor, you swallowed. Heart pounding loud enough to drown out the distant bar jukebox. You reached into the sack, pulled out another still-warm ring, glaze already tacky and shiny and hesitated. Leaned in close. The head of him glistened, one donut already perched unevenly at the base, starting to soften and slide from his heat.
You bit your lip hard, then carefully slid the second one down. It caught on the ridge, glaze smearing in a thick, amber streak before squishing into place with a soft, wet schlup.
The whole stack wobbled immediately. You added a third, gentler this time, pushing until the dough yielded and molded around him but the glaze was melting fast now, dripping in slow, sticky threads down the veined shaft, pooling warm against his balls.
Four donuts clung in a lopsided, glistening mess. Already the bottom ones were getting soggy, dough turning dense and tacky from body heat; glaze ran in rivulets, making everything slick and obscene. You stared, wide-eyed, lips parted. It looked ridiculous. Wrong. Hot. Your thighs squeezed together under the skirt.
Lee’s chest rose and fell heavy. “Prettiest damn sight. Now… taste it, baby. Eat a little. Make it good for me.”
Your tongue flicked out, then froze. You looked up, cheeks blazing. “Like… bite it?”
“Just a nibble, angel. Show me you wanna please your Sheriff.”
Heart in your throat, you leaned forward. First, just a tentative brush of lips against the top donut. The glaze was warm, almost liquid now, coating your mouth in sticky sweetness. You gave a small, experimental bite, teeth sinking into the soft, pillowy edge.
Dough crumbled immediately, warm and slightly chewy, glaze pulling in sticky strings between your lips and the pastry as you pulled back. A chunk broke off, tumbling down his shaft, smearing more mess.
Lee hissed through his teeth. “Fuck- yeah, like that.”
Encouraged, just a little, you went back. Nibbled another small bite from the top ring, letting crumbs flake onto your tongue, mixing with the salty bead of pre-cum that had leaked up through the hole.
The flavor hit messy and overwhelming: hot sugar, soft fried dough, sharp musk, him. You chewed slowly, shyly, eyes fluttering shut for a second, then licked the broken edge clean, tongue dragging over crumbling pastry and slick skin beneath.
More glaze dripped. The stack shifted dangerously. You reached up with tentative fingers, steadied the wobbling tower, then bit again, this time lower, teeth grazing the side of the second donut. A bigger piece came away; you swallowed it down with a soft, surprised hum, lips brushing his shaft as you did.
“Goddamn, baby girl…” Lee’s voice cracked. His hips twitched, making the whole precarious pile quiver.
You pulled back just enough to look up, face flushed, lips shiny with glaze and spit, a few crumbs clinging to your chin. “Is… is this good?” you whispered, voice trembling with real uncertainty. “I just wanna make it feel nice for you. It’s so… messy. But warm. And sweet. And you taste… mixed in.”
Lee’s hands flexed, knuckles white, veins standing out on his thick forearms. His voice came out wrecked, slurred, dripping with raw need.
“You’re killin’ me, angel. Keep goin’. Eat ‘em off me slow. Be my good girl. Clean every last crumb off this filthy cock with that sweet little mouth.”
You nodded, shy, eager in a way you didn’t comprehend, then leaned forward on your knees.
Lee’s thighs shook. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ- look at you, angel. Eatin’ my cock like it’s the sweetest thing you ever baked. You even know what you’re doin’ to me?”
You pulled back just enough to look up at him, face a wreck of crumbs, glaze, spit, cheeks flushed crimson, eyes glassy and dazed. A stray bit of dough clung to your lower lip like obscene lipstick.
“I… I’m just tryin’ to clean it up,” you whispered, voice trembling, small and lost. “It’s… it’s all over you. And… and it tastes like… like you. I didn’t know it would taste like that.”
He stared down at you, breath ragged, pupils blown black. Then, voice dropping to a gravelly whisper:
“You pure, baby girl? Still got that little cherry waitin’ for somebody to pop it?”
The question hit you like cold water. Your eyes widened further; your whole body went still. Heat flooded your face so fast it hurt. You looked down. suddenly mortified, quiet, shoulders hunching like you wanted to disappear into the floor.
You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Just gave the tiniest, shakiest nod, barely perceptible, cheeks burning, lashes wet.
Lee groaned like he’d been punched in the gut. “Fuck. That’s what I thought. Still pure as fresh snow… and here you are on your knees, face covered in my mess, eatin’ donuts off my cock like a good little girl.”
The words made something twist low in your belly, shame, want, confusion all at once. You whimpered, soft, needy, thighs pressing together under your skirt.
He guided your head forward again. “Don’t stop now, angel. Finish cleanin’ me up. Take the rest.”
You obeyed, diving back in. The remaining donuts gave way under your teeth: crumbling apart, dough and glaze smearing everywhere, across your cheeks, your chin, your apron, dripping down your neck in sticky trails. You moaned softly around mouthfuls, half pastry, half him, tongue swirling to chase every ridge, every vein, swallowing greedily like it was the best thing you’d ever tasted.
When the last crumbling ring finally collapsed, nothing was left but his thick, glistening cock, coated in spit, glaze remnants, crumbs clinging to the shaft like filthy decoration.
You didn’t stop.
Still dazed, still trembling, you opened your mouth wider and took the head inside. The thick tip pushed past your lips, stretching them; warm pastry remnants smeared across your tongue as you sank down inch by inch. Your throat fluttered, soft little gags muffled by the mess but you didn’t pull away. You kept going, eyes watering, until your nose brushed the coarse, sweaty hair at his base.
A soft, contented hum vibrated around him, like you were savoring something holy and filthy at once.
That sound broke Lee completely.
“Holy- fuck- angel-” His hands fisted in your hair, not rough, just desperate, holding you steady while his thick thighs shook. “That’s it- fuckin’ take every inch down that sweet virgin throat. Look at you… swallowin’ my dirty cock like a good little church girl. So fuckin’ tight- milkin’ me so good, baby.”
Wet, filthy sounds filled the room: your soft, needy moans around his girth, the obscene squelch of spit and melting sugar, his ragged, whiskey-rough breathing. Glaze, drool and crumbs dripped in slow, sticky strings from the corners of your mouth, landing on his open fly, his boots, the floor between your knees.
You bobbed slow at first, learning him, savoring every ridge, every vein, tongue pressing hard against the fat underside, dragging up and down, coaxing more pre-cum to leak onto your taste buds. You swallowed around him greedily, throat working like you were starving for every drop.
Then faster, cheeks hollowing, taking him to the root over and over. The last remnants of the donuts had long since smeared into a warm, sticky ruin along his shaft and balls; every thrust of your head pushed more of the mess across your face, dripping in thick ropes onto his lap.
Lee’s control shattered.
“Fuck angel” His hands fisted tighter in your hair, not rough, just desperate, holding you steady while his thick thighs shook. “That’s it- fuckin’ take every inch down that pretty throat. Such a good little cocksucker… didn’t know heaven had a throat this tight and greedy.”
His hips jerked up in shallow, helpless thrusts, fucking your mouth while his hands anchored you.
“Gonna cum- gonna fill that sweet virgin mouth full- swallow every thick drop like the filthy little angel you are- fuck- here it comes, baby-”
He came with a broken, guttural grunt, thick, hot ropes flooding your mouth in heavy pulses. You swallowed eagerly, innocently, like it was communion wine on Sunday morning, lips sealed tight so not a drop escaped. Pulse after pulse coated your tongue, slid down your throat; you hummed in soft delight, milking him with gentle swallows until the last weak spurt painted the back of your mouth.
Only then did you pull back, letting the final rope catch on your tongue before it dripped down your chin in a pearly string, streaking your ruined apron. Crumbs clung to your lashes; glaze and spit smeared your cheeks like obscene war paint.
You sat back on your heels, face flushed and sticky, apron a disaster of white, sugar, spit, cum and dough, eyes still huge and shining with dazed wonder. You licked your swollen lips slow, chasing the taste, then gave him the softest, shyest smile.
“Goodness, Sheriff,” you whispered, voice trembling with real shyness creeping back in now that the haze of hunger had ebbed. “You made an awful big mess. I didn’t know a man could… give so much. It’s all warm and thick and… everywhere.”
Lee stared down at you, wrecked, sweat rolling down his thick neck, chest heaving, cock still twitching half-hard against his belly, smeared with the obscene remnants of glaze, spit, cum and crumbs.
He hauled you up by the apron strings, rougher now but still careful crushing your sugary, cum-smeared mouth to his in a deep, sloppy, whiskey-soaked kiss. He tasted himself on you, salt, sugar, sin and groaned into your mouth like a starving man finally fed.
When he pulled back, he was breathing hard, eyes glassy but focused, pupils blown wide.
“You really are an angel,” he rasped, voice wrecked and slurred. “A sweet, perfect, filthy little angel who just sucked the goddamn devil right outta me.”
His big hands were already hiking your skirt, bunching the fabric at your waist in a crumpled wad, exposing the simple white cotton panties you’d put on that morning, the plain, modest ones your mama always bought you, with just a tiny pink bow at the front. They were completely drenched now, the innocent white fabric turned dark and clinging wetly to your swollen folds, soaked through like it had been waiting all night to betray how needy you really were.
Lee dropped to one knee in front of you, big rough hands gripping your hips to hold you still. His face hovered inches from your dripping center. Slowly he hooked two thick fingers into the waistband and peeled the soaked panties down your thighs, sliding them all the way off. He held the drenched cotton in one hand, stretching the wet gusset wide between his fingers right in front of your flushed face so you could see the dark, shiny stain of your own slick glistening in the flickering lamplight, sticky strings of it stretching between the fabric.
Your eyes went huge, clueless, horrified, cheeks flaming scarlet. A tiny, mortified whimper escaped you; you tried to look away but his grip on your hips kept you frozen.
“Look at this, angel,” he growled low, voice thick with dark lust. “Look how fuckin’ wet you got for me. This little scrap of cotton’s soaked clean through with your cunt juice. Smell it, smells like sweet vanilla and desperate pussy, don’t it?”
He brought the drenched patch closer, close enough that you could feel the warm, musky heat radiating off it.
Then he leaned in and dragged his tongue flat across the soaked gusset, slow, filthy, sucking hard enough to pull the fabric into his mouth. He groaned deep in his throat, eyes rolling back for a second as he tasted you, sharp, tangy, sweet, lapping at the wet cotton like it was the last drop of something precious.
You jolted, a high, shocked whimper tearing out of you. Your thighs shook violently; you couldn’t speak, only tiny, trembling gasps escaped.
He pulled back with a wet pop, lips shiny with your slick, eyes locked on yours.
“Tastes even better than it smells,” he taunted, licking his lips slow and deliberate. “Sweet little virgin cunt drippin’ like a whore in heat. You been leakin’ all over these pretty panties the whole time you were on your knees eatin’ my load, huh? Bet you didn’t even know how bad you wanted it till now.”
Your face burned so hot you thought you might cry. You stared at the ceiling, biting your lip hard, thighs trembling, unable to form words, only a soft, mortified “Sheriff…” slipped out.
He balled up the warm, dripping cotton in his fist and rose back up between your legs.
“Open that pretty mouth, angel,” he growled low.
You barely had time to obey before he pushed the drenched panties between your lips, stuffing the wet fabric deep into your mouth. The taste of your own slick flooded your tongue. Your eyes widened in shock, a muffled whimper vibrating around the cotton gag.
“Atta girl,” he rasped, dark satisfaction in his voice. “Keep those innocent little panties right where they belong. Now spread those pretty legs wider on my desk, baby girl,”
You blushed scarlet, deeper than you’d ever blushed in your life. Your thighs trembled violently as you nodded, the words coming out soft, wet, and completely muffled against the soaked gag.
“Yesh… Sheriff…”
The garbled, innocent little plea made Lee groan low in his throat, his cock twitching hard against your thigh.
“Fuck, that’s adorable,” he rasped. “Even with your dirty panties in your mouth you’re still sayin’ yes like a good girl.”
Lee didn’t give you time to breathe. He stepped between your spread thighs, forcing them wider with the bulk of his hips. His cock, still half-hard from your mouth, glistening with the ruined remnants of glaze, spit, cum and dough crumbs bobbed heavy and obscene between you. The thick, wrinkled foreskin was still partially covering the fat head, shiny and slick.
He fisted the shaft lazily, slowly working the foreskin back and forth a few times, pulling it down to fully expose the swollen, leaking tip before sliding it back up again. Sticky strands of glaze, spit and cum stretched between the skin and the head as he smeared the filthy mess along your bare, dripping folds, coating your clit and slit with it.
“Gonna get this pretty virgin cunt nice and messy too,” he growled, voice low and filthy. “Feel how slick that foreskin is, angel? That’s all for you.”
The sight ripped a low, guttural growl from deep in his chest. His nostrils flared wide; he could smell you even stronger now, sweet vanilla undercut by the sharp, musky reek of your dripping cunt slicing through the stale whiskey, cigarette ash and sex haze of the office.
“Look at that sloppy little mess,” he rasped, voice thick with liquor and leftover cum. His thumb dragged over your swollen clit, pressing down hard enough to make you jolt. You whimpered, high, needy, thighs quivering uncontrollably. “Angel’s cunt already cryin’ rivers for it. Soakin’ like a desperate little whore who’s been dreamin’ about this fat cock all damn day. Bet Mommy don’t know her sweet baby girl’s leakin’ like a faucet in the sheriff’s back room, does she?”
Your face burned hotter than the fryer at closing time. Shame and want twisted together in your belly until you couldn’t tell which was winning. But your thighs parted wider anyway on instinct, surrender, hips tilting shamelessly toward his hand like your body had already sold you out.
You tried to answer but the soaked cotton panties stuffed in your mouth turned your words into soft, wet, muffled sounds.
“I- I cou’n hewp it, Sheriff…” you mumbled around the gag, voice cracking and barely intelligible, drool already starting to leak from the corners of your lips. “You… you make me fee’ so funny down dere… hot an’ achy an’… empty… like I need somethin’ bad… somethin’ I don’ even un’erstan’…”
Lee chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through his chest into yours. He hooked his big hands under your thighs and lifted you fully onto the edge of the desk like you weighed nothing. Papers scattered in a chaotic flutter; the half-empty Jack Daniel’s bottle tipped sideways, rolling slowly across the wood but not quite falling.
Instead of leaving you there, he kept his grip on your thighs and adjusted you, pulling your ass right to the very edge of the scarred desktop so your hips tilted up and your legs fell open wider on either side of him. He pushed your knees back toward your chest slightly, spreading you obscenely open, completely exposed under the flickering lamplight.
Your ass hung just off the edge now, cunt presented like an offering, slick dripping down onto the wood below.
“There we go,” he rasped, voice thick with satisfaction as he looked down at your helpless, spread position. “Nice and ready for me. Just how I want my angel.”
“Ish… ish gonna be too bigg,” you tried to say, but the soaked cotton panties stuffed deep in your mouth turned the words into a wet, garbled mumble. “Sheriff… ish it gonna hurt?”
Lee froze for a second, then a slow, filthy grin split his face. He braced both hands on the desk beside your hips, leaning down until his whiskey-sour breath fanned over your soaked cunt. Without warning, he bent lower and pressed a slow, sloppy, open-mouthed kiss right on your throbbing clit, lips sealing around the swollen bud for one long, sucking second, tongue flicking once before pulling back with a wet, obscene pop.
You jolted, back arching off the desk, a high, shocked whimper tearing out of you. Your thighs snapped together instinctively, trapping his head for a heartbeat before he shoved them apart again with rough hands.
“Might sting a little, baby girl,” he taunted, voice thick with dark amusement. He licked his lips, tasting you, eyes locked on yours. “But look at this greedy little clit, puffin’ up and shinin’ like it’s beggin’ for more. You’re so fuckin’ wet it’s drippin’ down your ass crack already. You really gonna pretend you don’t want this fat cock to split you open? Gonna pretend that tiny virgin hole ain’t clenchin’ and suckin’ just thinkin’ about bein’ stretched around me?”
Your face flamed crimson; you couldn’t look at him. You stared at the ceiling instead, biting your lip so hard it hurt, thighs trembling violently.
“I… I don’ know…” you mumbled around the soaked panties, voice soft, wet, and completely muffled. “Ish scary… but… but I wan’ it too. I think…”
Lee groaned, deep, animal. “That’s my good girl. Scared little angel who’s still drippin’ like a whore.”
He braced one hand on the desk beside your hip, the other guiding his thick length, rubbing the fat, glaze-smeared head up and down your slit, coating himself in your slick until every glide made wet, obscene noises that echoed in the small room.
“Too big’s the whole fuckin’ point, baby girl,” he grunted, voice slurred and thick. His eyes were locked on where you were stretched just around the tip, watching himself disappear a fraction more with every shallow rock of his hips. “Gonna stretch this tight little virgin cunt wide open. Make it remember the shape of me every time you sit down tomorrow. Every time Mommy asks why you’re walkin’ funny.”
He pressed forward again, slow, agonizingly slow, watching your face the entire time. Your walls fluttered wildly around the intrusion, trying to take more, slick heat sucking at him greedily even as your brows pinched and your lips parted on a shaky gasp.
The stretch burned, sweet, deep, overwhelming. You felt every ridge, every pulse of him as he sank deeper, inch by thick, veined inch.
When he met resistance, your body instinctively clenching, he stilled, breath ragged, forehead pressed to yours for a moment. Sweat dripped from his brow onto your collarbone.
“Come on, baby,” he rasped, voice dropping to a rough, pleading growl. “Let me in. Let your sheriff in that sweet little hole. You been drippin’ for it all night- don’t fight it now. Open up for me… that’s it… just like that…”
His thumb found your clit again, circling slow, firm circles that made your hips jerk and your walls flutter open around him. The combination of pain and pleasure made your breath hitch; another inch slid inside with a wet squelch.
You let out a broken little sob, half pain, half bliss. “Oh- oh goo’ness- Sheriff- ish so fuww- stings- burns-”
He pushed the rest of the way in with one long, steady thrust, bottoming out until his balls pressed flush and heavy against your ass, the last of the glaze and spit smearing between you.
You cried out, nails digging into his shoulders, legs shaking uncontrollably. The sound came out muffled and wet around the soaked panties stuffed in your mouth.
“I can fee’ you… eb’rywhere,” you whimpered, voice garbled and lispy. “In my bewwy. Wike you’re rearrangin’ me inside…”
He held still for a long moment, letting you adjust, letting you feel the sheer size of him splitting you open, owning every inch. His thumbs stroked slow circles on the trembling insides of your thighs, almost gentle despite the filth of his words.
“That’s it,” he murmured, voice slurred but steady now, focused. “Take a breath, angel. Let that pretty pussy get used to bein’ owned. You’re mine now- every tight little inch of you.”
The desk was rattling now, violent, rhythmic shudders that sent pencils rolling off the edge and the flickering lamp teetering dangerously on its base. Every brutal snap of Lee’s hips drove the scarred wood deeper into the wall behind it, the whole room seeming to pulse in time with the wet, obscene slap of skin on skin. The air had turned thick and humid, thick enough to taste on every ragged breath.
Your legs had wrapped around his thick waist as best they could, ankles crossing at the small of his back, heels digging into the damp fabric of his uniform shirt. The stockings had laddered further from the rough friction, thin runs snaking up your thighs like delicate scars. You clung to him, nails scraping down his meaty arms, leaving red trails through the coarse hair, trying to anchor yourself against the overwhelming tide of sensation.
“Sheriff- pwease- ” Your voice cracked, high and desperate, the words coming out as wet, garbled mumbles around the soaked cotton panties stuffed in your mouth. “I fee’ somethin’- somethin’ comin’- ish too much- I can’t-”
Lee’s laugh was low, filthy, slurred at the edges but sharp with triumph. He shifted his angle, tilting his hips just right, so the fat head of his cock ground relentlessly against that swollen, secret spot inside you that made white-hot stars explode behind your eyelids. His belly pressed flush to yours with every deep plunge, the soft give of him trapping your clit between your bodies, rubbing it raw with every thrust.
“Yeah?” he growled, voice gravel dragged through smoke. “Gonna come on this fat sheriff cock, angel? Gonna soak me like the greedy little thing you are?” He leaned down, whiskey breath hot against your ear, lips brushing the shell. “Go on then- come for me. Squeeze this dirty dick like you never wanna let it go. Show me how bad you needed a man to wreck you.”
It hit you like a freight train barreling through the quiet night.
Your back arched off the desk, sharp, violent, head falling back so hard your skull thumped against the wood. A high, keening cry tore from your throat, raw, reverent, almost prayer-like as your pussy clamped down in frantic, fluttering pulses. Slick gushed around him in hot, slippery waves, soaking his shaft, dripping in thick rivulets down his balls and onto the scattered papers below. The mess spread, mixing with the spilled whiskey and crumbling glaze into a filthy puddle that would stain the desk for weeks.
Lee cursed through gritted teeth, thrusts turning erratic, sloppy, losing rhythm as your walls milked him with greedy contractions. “Fuck- fuck- that’s it- milk me- Jesus fuckin’ Christ-”
He buried himself to the hilt one final time, deep enough you swore you felt him in your throat, with a guttural, broken groan that rattled his whole frame. His cock pulsed violently inside you; thick, hot spurts flooded your depths in heavy ropes, so much, so fast it immediately overflowed. Warm cum leaked out around his thick base, mixing with your own release and the last sticky remnants of sugar, running in slow, pearly trails down the cleft of your ass and pooling beneath you on the desk.
He stayed seated deep, buried to the root, panting harshly against the crook of your neck. His forehead pressed to yours, sweat dripping from his brow onto your flushed cheeks. You trembled beneath him, aftershocks rippling through your core in weak, fluttering waves; your walls still weakly clenched around him like they were trying to keep him inside forever.
For a long moment there was only the sound of ragged breathing, the dying buzz of the lamp, the distant tick of the wall clock creeping toward eleven.
Then he began to pull out.
The drag of his softening cock through your oversensitive walls made you whimper, sharp, oversensitive pleasure-pain. When the fat head finally slipped free, a thick rope of cum followed immediately, gushing from your puffy, ruined entrance in a slow, obscene cascade. It dripped onto the desk in heavy drops, mingling with everything else you’d already made.
Lee watched with dark, possessive satisfaction, eyes hooded, lips parted. His thumb, still sticky with glaze and your combined mess, scooped up a generous glob of the leaking cum and pushed it back inside you. Your walls fluttered weakly around the intrusion; a soft, broken sound escaped your throat.
“Keep that where it belongs,” he murmured, voice wrecked but steady, almost tender beneath the gravel. “Don’t want none of my mess wastin’, angel. Gonna make sure you feel me drippin’ out of you the whole walk home.”
You whimpered again, too blissed-out, too overwhelmed to form words. Your thighs shook uncontrollably; your body felt liquid, boneless, pinned to the desk like an offering. The apron hung crooked and ruined, streaked with sugar, spit, tears, cum, your blouse half-unbuttoned from his rough hands, breasts heaving with every shallow breath.
Lee’s big palm smoothed down your trembling thigh, almost soothing before he reached up and hooked two thick fingers into the corner of your mouth. He slowly pulled the drenched, saliva-soaked panties from between your lips, the wet cotton dragging out with a filthy, obscene sound. Strings of your drool connected the fabric to your swollen lips for a second before they snapped.
You gasped softly, finally able to breathe properly again, lips parted and shiny.
He leaned in and crushed his mouth to yours in a deep, sloppy, whiskey-soaked kiss. He tasted like bourbon and sin; you tasted like him and the faint, musky sweetness of your own slick from the gag.
When he pulled back, his eyes searched yours, something raw flickering behind the drunken haze.
“You okay, baby girl?” he rasped quietly, thumb brushing a tear track from your cheek. “Did I hurt you too bad?”
You shook your head slowly, eyes glassy, lips trembling into the softest smile. “No, Sheriff,” you whispered. “It… it felt like dyin’ and bein’ born all at once. Like I was waitin’ my whole life for you to do that to me.”
He exhaled a shaky breath, almost a laugh and rested his forehead against yours again.
“Good,” he muttered. “’Cause I ain’t done with you yet. Not by a long shot.”
But even as he said it, his gaze flicked to the old wall clock on the far side of the room, its face yellowed with age and nicotine, ticked past 10:45 with a slow, accusing rhythm that suddenly cut through the haze of heavy breathing and sticky skin. The sound seemed louder now, sharper, like it had been waiting for the right moment to remind them both that the world outside this filthy little office still existed.
His eyes narrowed, the drunken fog lifting just enough for reality to creep back in. Then his gaze dropped to you: sprawled boneless across the cluttered desk, skirt rucked up around your hips in a wrinkled halo, apron streaked with sugar, spit, tears and the unmistakable pearly evidence of what you’d done together. Your face was flushed crimson, lips swollen and shiny, hair mussed and clinging damply to your temples. You looked ruined, beautifully, thoroughly ruined and something possessive twisted hard in his chest at the sight.
You blinked slowly, lashes fluttering as the afterglow ebbed and the world came back into focus. Your eyes widened when they landed on the clock.
“Oh no- Sheriff-” Your voice was small again, cracked and trembling, the shy sweetness rushing back in like cold water. “What time is it?”
Lee wiped a thick thumb across your cheek, smearing a lingering streak of glaze rather than cleaning it, before answering. His voice was still rough, gravelly from groaning your name, but quieter now.
“Pushin’ eleven,” he rasped. “Why, angel?”
“My Mama said I could only be out till eleven,” you whispered, suddenly shrinking in on yourself despite the way your thighs still trembled around his hips. “She’ll be awful mad if I’m late. She’ll wait up- lights on in the kitchen, Bible open on the table- and she’ll ask where I was, why I smell like… like this.” Your gaze dropped to your ruined apron, then lower, to the sticky sheen coating your inner thighs. “And- and I can’t tell her I was here… like this. She’d die of shame. Or worse- she’d lock me in my room and never let me out again.”
Lee barked a rough laugh, low, almost fond but there was something tender buried in the sound, something that hadn’t been there before you walked through his door. He eased back just enough to help you sit up, big hands steadying your waist as the room spun a little for you.
He reached down and picked up the ruined, soaked white cotton panties from the floor. A filthy little smirk tugged at his lips.
“Here we go, angel,” he murmured, voice gravelly. “One leg now…”
He gently lifted your left foot, guiding it through the leg hole. You held onto his broad shoulders for balance, cheeks burning as he slowly worked the other leg through.
“…now the other. That’s it. Good girl.”
He slid the damp panties up your thighs with surprising care, the wet cotton clinging obscenely to your slick, cum-filled pussy. He even adjusted them carefully over your swollen folds, patting the front almost possessively before tugging your skirt down as best he could. The fabric smoothed over your hips but the dark, wet spot between your thighs was impossible to hide and fresh sticky trails still ran down your legs.
“Better get movin’ then, sweetheart,” he said, voice gravelly but softer at the edges. “Can’t have Mommy comin’ lookin’ for her little baker girl with a flashlight and a prayer book. She finds you like this, she’ll have the whole congregation prayin’ over your soul by sunrise.”
You slid off the desk on wobbly legs, knees knocking together, thighs slick and trembling. A fresh trickle of his cum slid warm and slow down your inner thigh the moment your feet hit the floor; you pressed them shut with a tiny, mortified gasp, cheeks flaming anew.
Lee watched the motion with dark, hungry eyes, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. It was stained, crumpled, smelling faintly of motor oil and old smoke but it was the best he had. He stepped close again, close enough you could feel the heat rolling off him and dabbed gently at your chin, wiping away the worst of the glaze and spit. Then lower, across the streaks on your apron, the smudges on your blouse. His touch was careful, almost reverent, like he was trying to erase the evidence even though he knew it was pointless.
When he finished, he leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear, breath hot and whiskey-sour.
“Next time,” he murmured low, possessive, “bring more donuts. A whole dozen. And don’t wear panties. I wanna feel that sweet pussy drippin’ the whole walk over here- knowin’ you’re already wet for me before you even knock.”
Your cheeks burned scarlet, but you didn’t pull away. Instead you nodded, small, shy, eager, biting your lower lip hard enough to leave a mark.
“Yes, Sheriff,” you breathed.
He walked you to the door, big hand splayed possessively on the small of your back, thumb stroking slow circles through the thin fabric of your blouse. The night air hit you like a slap when he pushed the door open, cool, clean, smelling of pine and distant rain. It cut through the thick reek of sex and sugar clinging to your skin, making you shiver.
You paused on the top step, turning back to look at him. The porch light cast harsh shadows across his face, highlighting the sweat on his brow, the crooked badge, the crooked smirk but his eyes were steady on yours. Soft. Hungry. Something dangerously close to tender.
“Thank you, Sheriff…” you whispered, cheeks still flushed. “For… for lettin’ me stay with you. For makin’ me feel so full… and so dirty… and like I mattered tonight.”
Lee’s smirk softened, just a fraction, into something almost real.
“Anytime, baby girl,” he rasped, voice low and rough. “Door’s always open for my favorite delivery. Matter of fact… you can come even earlier next time. The other deputies usually clear out by eight. After that it’s just me here… all alone.”
His thumb brushed your bottom lip, still swollen from earlier.
“So come as early as you want, angel. The sooner you get here, the more time I got to ruin you proper.”
You gave him one last look, then turned and hurried off into the dark. Your skirt fluttered with every quick step; the cool air kissed the sticky trails on your thighs, making you clench involuntarily around the lingering ache of him inside you. His taste still coated your tongue. His cum still leaked slow and warm between your legs with every stride.
Behind you, Lee leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching until your silhouette disappeared around the bend in the road.
He didn’t move for a long time.
The clock inside ticked toward midnight.
And somewhere deep in his whiskey-soaked heart, he already knew: this wasn’t the end.
It was just the beginning of something he’d never be able to quit.
here's a flower to show my appreciation to you for being such a wonderful person🌹i hope you're enjoying your day! send this to 10 other bloggers to add some positivity to their inbox
MY BABY LILIIII, UUHHH I LOVE U SO MUCHHH, you are very dear to me ⭐️💭🐰
i want to apologize with everyone for me not being active, my drafts are like full of ideas unfinished but i cant see the ending of any of those ideas, i am so sorry if u guys feel disappointed, i'm going to try my best to finish my drafts for you.
and THANK U SO MUCH FOR THE 187 FOLLOWERS, is such a big deal to me, cause I feel like 187 people are waiting for me to update 💔
yelloooowww (๑ᵔ⤙ᵔ๑) idk why i cant answer ur ask but...thank u so much, i need to finish it tho..but really, thank u :3. i like ur theme too, its really pretty and refreshing like frutiger aero (๑>•̀๑). and dont worry !! we are moots now (..◜ᴗ◝..)
Sebastian Stan has the kind of voice where he could talk about grass growing and paint drying and i would hang onto every word as if he were feeding me air.
