Blunt!Simon, who has never once been good at keeping his mouth shut. He says this exactly as he sees them. Simon, who has the exact same mindset when he sees you enter the bases gym, clad in leggings and a standard issue sports bra.
'Can see yer nipples cuttin' through yer top, luv' he said gruffly, when you came over to say hi. You stopped dead in your tracks, blood rushing to your face, who even says that?!
You try your best to get on with your workout, opting to do some cardio to warm up...
After a few hours, you head over to the water fountain to hydrate, where Simon had been standing, filling up his bottle. 'Been enjoyin' the outline 'f yer cunt, luvie' he says, looking down at you as you cough on your water in shock.
He bends down to get close to you 'dyin' for a taste... give yer LT a han', aye?'
Blunt!Simon who has you throbbing with his crude words.
You don't know what it says about you that you fell head over heels in love with a man who was born in the same decade as the Walkman, but frankly, you don't care. The list of reasons you're utterly obsessed with Simon Riley is long, sordid, and gets you wet just thinking about it.
First, there's the age thing. The man is a fucking masterpiece of maturity. Heâs not some fumbling boy trying to figure it out; he's a man who knows exactly what he wants and exactly how to get it. His mind is the sexiest thing about him, a razor-sharp, tactical whirlwind of strategy and dark humor that could keep you captivated in a conversation for hours. That brain of his you'd gladly let ruin your life, and you often do.
But then, there's the body. Christ, the body. It's a fucking temple to the concept of 'daddy', and you're its most devout worshipper. He's a wall of a man, with arms that could probably bench-press a small car and a chest that's a perfect canvas for your scratches. And his belly... God, his belly. It's not a washboard, and thank fuck for that. It's a soft, solid, warm plane of flesh that yields under your fingers when you dig in, a delicious contrast to the hard muscle everywhere else. It's a testament to his strength, and you want to press your entire body against it.
When he fucks you, it's the first thing you feel after his cock splits you open. That soft, warm weight of his stomach pressing down on you, squishing against your own belly, grounding you, claiming you. It's the most intimate sensation. Yet, for all his sheer mass, he is so incredibly careful with you. He bears his weight on his forearms just enough so he doesn't crush you, his massive hands framing your face with a gentleness that contrasts wildly with the brutal pace of his hips. He watches your eyes, tracking every hitch in your breath, constantly checking to make sure you're keeping up with him.
The combination of that softness and the iron-hard rod of his cock pistoning inside you is enough to make you full. He fills you so completely, stretches you so perfectly, you're left a babbling, sobbing mess every single time. And every single time, he leans down to kiss the tears from your cheeks, whispering sweet, low assurances against your lips, thanking you for taking him.
He doesn't shave. Of course he doesn't. He trims, keeps it neat, but he leaves that thatch of dark, wiry hair at the base of his cock and on his balls. It's coarse and masculine, and the scent of him, clean sweat and soap and pure Simon, clings to it. You bury your face there when you suck him off, inhaling him like he's a drug.
And speaking of sucking him off... the view is fucking divine. You're on your knees, his cock in your mouth, your eyes looking up the magnificent landscape of his body. He doesn't just let you do all the work, either; his large, calloused hands weave gently through your hair, not to force you down, but to anchor you, his thumbs softly stroking your temples in a slow, comforting rhythm as you take him.
And there they are: his tattoos. The sprawling, intricate ink that covers his left thigh and creeps up his hip, the lines and colors twisting and shifting with the flex of his muscles. And the one on his lower belly, just above his pubic bone, peeking out from his waistband. You trace the lines with your tongue as you work your way down to his cock, feeling his muscles twitch under your touch.
You watch his abs contract and his belly quiver as you take him deeper, your hands roaming over the powerful muscles of his thighs. You see the way his jaw clenches, the way his dark eyes glaze over with lust, all for you. It's a power trip and a religious experience all in one.
Even as he loses his mind, he remains fiercely protective of your comfort. If your knees shift on the hard floor, heâll reach down to pull a pillow beneath them, or pull you up onto the bed entirely, refusing to let you ache for his pleasure.
He's your gentle giant. For all his hard edges and brutal strength, the way he touches you afterwards is what truly owns you. He is meticulous in his aftercare, his touch turning agonizingly sweet. Before he even thinks of his own comfort, he'll gather you up in his massive arms, his soft belly pressed against your side, and just hold you as if you're the most fragile, precious thing he's ever been trusted with.
He'll call you his 'good girl', his 'sweetheart', his voice a low purr that makes you feel cherished and debauched all at once. He'll press soft kisses to your forehead, your shoulders, and the palms of your hands, murmuring about how beautiful you are until you drift off to sleep.
So yeah, you're obsessed. You're in love with a grizzled, soft-bellied, genius of a man with tattoos and a cock that should be classified as a weapon. And as he pulls you into his lap, his strong hands stroking your hair, his soft stomach a warm pillow against your cheek, you're right where you belong âĄ.
You don't know what it says about you that you fell head over heels in love with a man who was born in the same decade as the Walkman, but frankly, you don't care. The list of reasons you're utterly obsessed with Simon Riley is long, sordid, and gets you wet just thinking about it.
First, there's the age thing. The man is a fucking masterpiece of maturity. Heâs not some fumbling boy trying to figure it out; he's a man who knows exactly what he wants and exactly how to get it. His mind is the sexiest thing about him, a razor-sharp, tactical whirlwind of strategy and dark humor that could keep you captivated in a conversation for hours. That brain of his you'd gladly let ruin your life, and you often do.
But then, there's the body. Christ, the body. It's a fucking temple to the concept of 'daddy', and you're its most devout worshipper. He's a wall of a man, with arms that could probably bench-press a small car and a chest that's a perfect canvas for your scratches. And his belly... God, his belly. It's not a washboard, and thank fuck for that. It's a soft, solid, warm plane of flesh that yields under your fingers when you dig in, a delicious contrast to the hard muscle everywhere else. It's a testament to his strength, and you want to press your entire body against it.
When he fucks you, it's the first thing you feel after his cock splits you open. That soft, warm weight of his stomach pressing down on you, squishing against your own belly, grounding you, claiming you. It's the most intimate sensation. Yet, for all his sheer mass, he is so incredibly careful with you. He bears his weight on his forearms just enough so he doesn't crush you, his massive hands framing your face with a gentleness that contrasts wildly with the brutal pace of his hips. He watches your eyes, tracking every hitch in your breath, constantly checking to make sure you're keeping up with him.
The combination of that softness and the iron-hard rod of his cock pistoning inside you is enough to make you full. He fills you so completely, stretches you so perfectly, you're left a babbling, sobbing mess every single time. And every single time, he leans down to kiss the tears from your cheeks, whispering sweet, low assurances against your lips, thanking you for taking him.
He doesn't shave. Of course he doesn't. He trims, keeps it neat, but he leaves that thatch of dark, wiry hair at the base of his cock and on his balls. It's coarse and masculine, and the scent of him, clean sweat and soap and pure Simon, clings to it. You bury your face there when you suck him off, inhaling him like he's a drug.
And speaking of sucking him off... the view is fucking divine. You're on your knees, his cock in your mouth, your eyes looking up the magnificent landscape of his body. He doesn't just let you do all the work, either; his large, calloused hands weave gently through your hair, not to force you down, but to anchor you, his thumbs softly stroking your temples in a slow, comforting rhythm as you take him.
And there they are: his tattoos. The sprawling, intricate ink that covers his left thigh and creeps up his hip, the lines and colors twisting and shifting with the flex of his muscles. And the one on his lower belly, just above his pubic bone, peeking out from his waistband. You trace the lines with your tongue as you work your way down to his cock, feeling his muscles twitch under your touch.
You watch his abs contract and his belly quiver as you take him deeper, your hands roaming over the powerful muscles of his thighs. You see the way his jaw clenches, the way his dark eyes glaze over with lust, all for you. It's a power trip and a religious experience all in one.
Even as he loses his mind, he remains fiercely protective of your comfort. If your knees shift on the hard floor, heâll reach down to pull a pillow beneath them, or pull you up onto the bed entirely, refusing to let you ache for his pleasure.
He's your gentle giant. For all his hard edges and brutal strength, the way he touches you afterwards is what truly owns you. He is meticulous in his aftercare, his touch turning agonizingly sweet. Before he even thinks of his own comfort, he'll gather you up in his massive arms, his soft belly pressed against your side, and just hold you as if you're the most fragile, precious thing he's ever been trusted with.
He'll call you his 'good girl', his 'sweetheart', his voice a low purr that makes you feel cherished and debauched all at once. He'll press soft kisses to your forehead, your shoulders, and the palms of your hands, murmuring about how beautiful you are until you drift off to sleep.
So yeah, you're obsessed. You're in love with a grizzled, soft-bellied, genius of a man with tattoos and a cock that should be classified as a weapon. And as he pulls you into his lap, his strong hands stroking your hair, his soft stomach a warm pillow against your cheek, you're right where you belong âĄ.
Summary: Your dad leaves to go on a business trip, leaving you with Beau Arlen, your dad's best friend. He was supposed to keep you safe, instead he ruined you for anyone else.
Your dad had mentioned heâd be gone for a week. That was fine, youâd handled a few days on your own before.
But this time was different.
âBeauâs gonna stay over for a bit, alright?â he said, eyes glued to the football game on the TV, barely glancing your way.
You stopped in the middle of the living room. âWaitâwhat? Are you serious?â
âDead serious, hun.â He took a long swig of his beer. âNo arguments.â
âCome on, Dad, Iâm eighteen. Iâm perfectly fine by myself,â you argued, stepping right in front of the screen to block his view.
He leaned sideways with a sigh. âNo arguments. And youâre lucky itâs Beau. Couldâve been your grandma.â He waved you out of the way, muttering, âAt least he wonât knit and lecture you about your love life.â
You groaned, but the conversation was clearly over. He was already focused back on the game.
Later that evening, the doorbell rang.
You opened it and there he was, Beau Arlen, in the flesh. Tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a worn flannel over a dark t-shirt, and jeans. His stubble was a little thicker than usual.
âHey, kiddo,â Beau said as he dropped his duffel bag just inside the door. âHeard Iâm on babysitting duty for the week.â He grinned and reached out to ruffle your hair.
You dodged his hand quickly. âNo, youâre not.â
âOh yes, he is,â your dad cut in, giving you a pointed look from the couch. âAnd donât give him a hard time, alright? It wasnât his choice, it was mine.â
âI know, Dad,â you mumbled, crossing your arms.
Your dad sighed and pushed himself up. âI better hit the road.â He pulled you into a quick hug and kissed your forehead. âLove you, even if you hate me right now.â
You frowned but hugged him back. âBye, Dad. Love you.â
He gave Beau a nod and a wave on his way out. The front door clicked shut, leaving the two of you alone in the sudden quiet of the house.
âAww, bunny, donât pout,â Beau said softly, patting the top of your head. Heâd called you that since you were little, it was impossible to stay annoyed when he said it. âHeâll be back in a week.â
He smiled down at you, then grabbed his duffel bag again. You reached for the smaller one before he could.
âI can show you the guest room,â you offered.
Amusement flickered across his face as he followed you down the hallway. âLead the way, hun.â
You led him down the hallway and pushed open the door to the guest room. It was simple but comfortable, fresh sheets, a big window, and the faint scent of laundry detergent.
âHere you go. Thereâs an extra blanket in the laundry room if you need it,â you said, nodding toward the end of the hall.
âThanks, sweetheart.â Beau gave your back a gentle, appreciative pat that lingered just a second longer than expected.
You swallowed hard at the warmth of his hand, then nodded quickly.
âMhm. Iâm gonna go make myself some food,â you mumbled, suddenly feeling awkward. You hadnât exactly planned on having company.
âNo worries, I wonât bother ya,â he replied easily. He tossed his duffel bag onto the bed and headed back toward the living room.
In the kitchen, you filled a pot with water and set it on the stove for ramen. A couple minutes later, a low voice rumbled behind you.
âWhatcha making?â
You startled slightly and pulled out one of your airpods. âJust some ramen,â you said, fidgeting with the strap of your tank top.
Beauâs eyes dropped to your hands. Without a word, he stepped closer and gently adjusted the strap for you, his fingers brushing your shoulder. Your breath caught.
âI can order us some pizza,â he offered, voice warm.
âOh, you donât have to do thatâŠâ You felt weird accepting. He was being so nice.
âLet me, hun. Itâs been a while since itâs just been the two of us.â He leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his broad chest. âYou used to crash at my place all the time when you were younger.â
You smiled despite yourself, memories flooding back. He really had been like an uncle to you growing up.
âOkay, fine,â you said with a small giggle, sliding onto one of the island counter stools.
Beau glanced up from his phone, thumbs hovering over the screen. âCheese or pepperoni?â
âWhatever you want is fine.â
You started spinning slowly in the chair, feeling a little restless. Beauâs hand landed on the back of the stool, gently stopping your rotation.
âCareful now, bunny. Youâre gonna make yourself dizzy,â he said, voice low and amused.
You looked up at him, suddenly aware of how close he was standing. The way he towered over you, green eyes crinkled with that familiar teasing smile.
âSorry,â you mumbled.
âItâs alright,â he chuckled, ruffling your hair lightly. âYouâre always moving, arenât ya?â
He tapped a few more times on his phone, finishing the order. âPizza should be here in about thirty. You still like cheesy breadsticks?â
âOkay, cool. Thank you,â you said with a smile, hopping off the barstool. âAnd yeah, I still like them.â
Beau nodded toward the hallway. âGo on, Iâll let you know when itâs here.â
âThanks again!â You grabbed your phone and hurried to your room, relieved to have a few minutes to yourself.
You flopped onto your stomach on the bed, legs kicking lazily in the air as you scrolled through TikTok. A few minutes later, a soft knock sounded on your door before it cracked open.
âHey, hun. Pizzaâs here,â Beau said, leaning against the doorframe. His eyes flicked over you for a brief second.
âOh, okay. Thanks.â You quickly pushed yourself up and adjusted your pajama pants before following him out.
On the kitchen counter sat a plate with two slices of your favorite pizza, already waiting for you. A small smile tugged at your lips.
âThis looks really good, Beau. Thank you again.â
âStop sayinâ thank you,â he chuckled, reaching over to pat the top of your head. âBut youâre welcome. Now go eat.â
You carried your plate to the couch where he was already settled, a few slices in front of him as he watched some random game on TV. You sat down pretty close, closer than you probably needed to.
Without hesitation, Beau draped his arm along the back of the couch, his hand resting lightly behind your shoulders. He kept eating with his other hand.
You gulped at the warm weight of his arm, heat creeping up your neck. Heâs just being friendly, you told yourself, trying to focus on your pizza instead of how good he smelled or how solid he felt beside you.
Once you finished your pizza, you grabbed Beauâs plate too and carried everything to the sink.
âAww, thanks bunny,â he said, smiling as he watched you. âYou used to hate doing the damn dishes as a kid. Look at you now⊠all matured.â
You felt the weight of his gaze on your back but kept your focus on the plates, a shy smile tugging at your lips. âI still hate it,â you admitted with a soft giggle, opening the dishwasher and sliding the plates inside.
Beau leaned back against the counter. âYour dad got any beer in this place?â
âUh, yeah, probably in the garage fridge. I can grab you one.â
âYeah, please. Thanks, hun.â
He headed back to the couch while you padded to the garage, the cold concrete making you shiver as it touched your bare feet. You pulled a cold beer from the fridge and hurried back inside.
âHere,â you said, handing it to him a little awkwardly.
Beau chuckled, taking the bottle from your hand. With an easy twist of his wrist, he popped the cap off. âThanks, sweetheart.â
You nodded quickly, suddenly feeling flushed, and retreated to your room with a quiet sigh, closing the door behind you.
The next couple of days in a strange, surprisingly comfortable rhythm. Beau had settled in easily, he made coffee in the mornings, fixed the loose handle on the kitchen cabinet your dad had been ignoring for months, and teased you every chance he got. You tried to keep your distance, but it was hard when he was always around, filling the house with his low laughter and that warm, steady presence.
By the second evening, you were curled up on the couch again, this time in an oversized hoodie and shorts, while Beau sat beside you. The TV played some action movie neither of you were really paying attention to.
His arm was draped comfortably around your shoulders, your legs pressed against his as you sat tucked close to his side.
You played nervously with the strings of your oversized hoodie, eyes glued to the action movie on the TV even though you werenât really into it.
âYou okay, sweetheart?â Beau asked, turning his head to look at you.
âYeah⊠just bored,â you admitted quietly.
âAww, you wanna watch somethinâ else, hun?â He reached for the remote, already willing to change it.
âNo, itâs okay. I know you like it,â you shrugged.
Beau shook his head with a soft chuckle. âIâm fine with somethinâ else. Iâm not gonna make you sit through this if youâre not enjoying it.â He gently squeezed your shoulder, his thumb brushing back and forth in a slow, absentminded motion. âWhat do you feel like watching, bunny?â
You hesitated, suddenly very aware of how warm he was and how nice his arm felt around you. Your heart picked up speed as you glanced up at him. For a moment, the movie was completely forgotten.
âUhm, this is really fine, I swear,â you said, suddenly feeling shy and awkward under his attention.
Beau sighed softly, turning more toward you. He reached out and gently caught your chin between his thumb and fingers, tilting your face up to meet his eyes.
âI told you to pick, hun,â he said, his voice low and warm. His thumb slowly brushed across your cheek in a gentle caress. âSo pick.â
Your breath caught. His touch was so casual, yet it sent warmth rushing through you. You nodded quickly, eyes wide as you looked up at him. After a second, you mumbled, âOkay⊠maybe that new horror movie?â
Beauâs mouth curved into a small smirk, but he didnât pull his hand away right away. His thumb gave one last soft stroke against your cheek before he finally let go and switched the movie.
As the horror film started, the lights in the living room already low, he settled back against the couch and tugged you closer with the arm still around your shoulders. Your side pressed against his chest, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing.
âYou scared of horror movies, bunny?â he teased quietly, glancing down at you.
âA little,â you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. You pulled your knees up slightly, subconsciously leaning more into his warmth.
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. âDonât worry. Iâve got you.â His hand slid down from your shoulder to rest on your upper arm, rubbing slow, soothing circles.
The movie played on, but it was getting harder and harder to focus on anything except how close he was, the scent of his cologne, the heat of his body, and the way his fingers kept lazily tracing patterns on your arm.
The next day passed in a warm, hazy blur.
In the morning, Beau made breakfast, scrambled eggs and bacon, while nursing a cup of coffee and teasing you about how you looked half-asleep. He was still his usual charming self, but there was a new kind of tension simmering between you two. Every time he brushed past you in the kitchen, his hand would linger on your lower back. Every shared glance felt heavier.
The rest of the day was relaxed. He worked on his truck in the driveway for a while, and you kept him company, sitting on the hood and talking about nothing important. He took you out for lunch, then the two of you spent the afternoon watching movies and bickering over which ones were actually good. The touches kept coming, his arm around you on the couch, his fingers playing with your hair, the way heâd pull you into his side.
By evening, heâd spent it all on the couch with a six-pack, slowly working his way through it while the two of you watched movies. He wasnât blackout drunk, but he was definitely feeling it.
You were still on the couch, the living room dark except for the glow of the TV. The movie had ended long ago, but neither of you had moved to turn it off. Beauâs arm was heavy around your shoulders, his fingers idly playing with your tank top.
âCâmere, bunny,â he murmured, voice thick with whiskey and want.
He gently pulled you closer until you were practically straddling his lap. His hands settled on your hips, thumbs slowly rubbing circles over the fabric of your shorts. For a while, he just looked at you, eyes half-lidded, breathing deep.
âYouâre so damn pretty,â he said quietly, almost to himself. One hand came up to tuck your hair behind your ear, then lingered, cupping your cheek. His thumb brushed slowly across your bottom lip.
Your heart pounded. You leaned in first this time.
The kiss started slow, soft and tentative. Beau tasted like beer and something warmer. He let you set the pace for a few moments before he took control, tilting his head and deepening the kiss with a low groan. His tongue slid against yours lazily, unhurried, like he wanted to savor every second.
His hands slid under your tank top, palms hot against your bare skin as he explored your waist and lower back. He didnât rush. He just kept kissing you, slow and deep, while his fingers traced lazy patterns up your spine and back down again.
You shivered when his hand drifted to your thigh, squeezing gently and pulling you tighter against him. You could feel how hard he was through his jeans.
âBeen wanting thisâŠâ he breathed against your lips between kisses, voice rough. âBeen good for four whole days, bunny. Tryinâ so hard not to touch you like this.â
He kissed you again, slower this time, one hand moving up to cradle the back of your neck while the other stayed on your thigh, inching higher. His mouth moved to your jaw, then down to your neck, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses that made your breath hitch.
You rocked against him instinctively. Beau let out a quiet, strained sound and gripped your hips tighter, guiding your movement just a little.
âEasy, sweetheart,â he whispered against your throat, even as he kissed you again, deeper. âWe got all nightâŠâ
Beau pulled back just enough to look at you. His breathing was heavier now, chest rising and falling under you.
âBeen thinkinâ about this since I got here,â he confessed, voice low and rough. His hands slid higher under your tank top, palms warm and calloused against your skin as he slowly mapped out your waist, your ribs, the curve of your sides.
You shivered at the touch. He smiled, slow and lazy, then leaned in again, kissing you deeper this time. The kiss was wet and unhurried, his tongue stroking yours in slow, deliberate movements that made your head spin. You could taste the beer on him, feel the slight stubble on his jaw brushing your skin.
One of his hands moved down to your ass, squeezing firmly and pulling you harder against him. You gasped into his mouth as you felt how hard he was beneath you. Beau groaned at the sound, the vibration traveling through your body.
âThatâs it, bunnyâŠâ he murmured against your lips. âKeep makinâ those pretty little noises for me.â
You rocked your hips again, slower this time, grinding down against the bulge in his jeans. Beauâs grip on you tightened, guiding your movements with one hand while the other slipped further up your back, fingertips tracing your spine.
He broke the kiss to trail his mouth down your neck, sucking and licking at the sensitive skin just below your ear. When he found a spot that made you whimper, he stayed there, lavishing it with attention until you were trembling in his lap.
His hand under your shirt moved higher, thumb brushing just under the swell of your breast. He didnât go further yet, just teased, slow and torturous, while his mouth continued its lazy exploration of your neck and collarbone.
âYouâre so soft,â he whispered, almost reverently. âSo fuckinâ sweet.â
The slow grind of your hips becoming more needy. Beauâs breathing was ragged now, his hands gripping you tighter as he kissed you again, deeper, filthier, like he was losing the last bit of restraint he had left.
But even drunk, he was still gentle with you, never rushing, like he wanted to draw this out as long as possible.
âFuck it,â he growled softly, voice wrecked. âI need you, bunny.â
He lifted you like you weighed nothing and carried you to his room, kicking the door shut behind him. The second he laid you on the bed, he was on top of you, kissing you hard and deep while his hands tugged your tank top off. He groaned at the sight of your bare chest, leaning down to kiss and suck on your breasts, praising you the whole time.
âSo perfect, look at you, sweetheart. So goddamn beautiful.â
You whimpered as he worked his way lower, pulling your shorts and panties down in one slow drag. Once you were completely naked beneath him, Beau sat back on his knees and just stared, eyes dark with lust.
He brought two fingers to your mouth. âOpen.â
You obeyed, taking them between your lips and sucking gently. Beauâs eyes rolled back slightly as he watched, groaning deeply.
âThatâs my good girl, just like that. Suck on them nice and slow for me.â
You swirled your tongue around his thick fingers, sucking harder while he watched, mesmerized. When they were slick enough, he pulled them out with a wet pop and moved them between your legs.
He teased your entrance first, rubbing slow circles around your clit before pushing one finger inside you, then two. You moaned loudly as he curled them, stroking that perfect spot while his thumb rubbed your clit.
âFuck, youâre so wet for me already,â he praised, voice husky. âSuch a good little bunny, taking my fingers so well.â
He kept pumping them in and out, slow and deep, until you were writhing and moaning beneath him. Only then did he pull them out, quickly stripping off his own clothes.
Beau was big, thick and hard, the sight of him making your mouth water. He stroked himself once as he settled between your thighs.
âYou ready for me, sweetheart?â he asked, leaning down to kiss you softly.
âYes, please, Beau.â
He groaned at the sound of his name and slowly pushed inside you, stretching you open inch by inch. âOhhh fuck, bunny, so tight. So fucking perfect.â
Once he was fully buried inside you, he paused, letting you adjust while he kissed you deeply, whispering praises against your lips.
âThatâs it, taking my cock so well. Such a good girl for me.â
Then he started moving, slow, deep thrusts that made your toes curl. Every stroke was deliberate, his drunk haze making him savor every second. His hands gripped your hips as he fucked you, pace gradually picking up while he kept praising you.
âLook at you, taking every inch like you were made for me. So pretty when you moan like that.â
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. Beau cursed, burying his face in your neck as his thrusts grew harder and faster, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room.
He reached between you and rubbed your clit in tight circles, determined to make you come first.
âCome on, sweetheart, let me feel you cum on my cock. Be a good girl and cum for me.â
You came hard around him, crying out his name as pleasure crashed through you. Beau groaned loudly, the feeling of you tightening around his cock pushing him over the edge right after you.
âFuck, bunny,â he rasped, burying himself deep as he came, hips stuttering with each pulse.
For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were your heavy breathing. Beau stayed inside you, forehead pressed against yours, both of you catching your breath. Then he slowly pulled out and collapsed beside you, immediately pulling you into his arms.
âCâmere,â he mumbled, voice hoarse and sleepy from the alcohol and orgasm. He wrapped his strong arms around you, tucking you against his chest. One hand gently stroked up and down your back while the other played with your hair.
âYou did so good,â he whispered, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, your temple, your lips. âSuch a perfect girl for me. Made me feel so fucking good.â
You nestled closer, still trembling slightly. Beau pulled the blanket over both of you and held you tight, his body warm and solid. Even drunk, he was gentle, kissing you lazily between soft praises and little murmurs.
âStay right here with me tonight, bunny. Donât want you goinâ anywhere.â
You nodded against his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow down. His hand kept rubbing slow circles on your back until you both drifted off, tangled together under the sheets.
Synopsis: Simon has been watching you for a while. So he waits for your heat to finally make a move.
No use of y/n. No ai used.
Mdni!! 18+
Wc: 4.8k
Cw: Non-canon au. Omegaverse. Alpha!Simon. Omega!reader. Kissing. Make outs. Short plot. Fingering. Dacryphilia. Brief mention of blood (sorry). Youâve got a deep dish. Bulges. Size difference. Squirting. Marking. Scenting. Pubic hairs. Knotting. Unprotected sex. p in v. Fat dick Simon. Cum eating. Cum play.
Grey dull skies. An enmity of snowy clouds. Barely audible patters of snow smear the concrete. Frost fragments fracturing the roads. Small cracks. An icy cast. Slippery. Polished by the freezing air, reflecting a cold blue-grey.
The town is quiet. People retiring to their homes. A combination of flats and houses. Bricked. Semidetached. All lifeless and ashen now painted in snow.
Itâs December. The coldâs really taking root. Youâre in a small cabin just a few yards away from the main road. Dark wood, white stained trees looming around, making it seem like you're buried deep into a forest. Luckily, you live close by to the nearest town centre. English weather was never really nice.
Youâre in your kitchen. Pastel yellow coloured walls, adorned in small beautiful plant paints. Pictures of flowers youâve taken over the years. Paintings youâve bought. Small counter top, bluey-grey marble board at the surface with white coloured sides. Youâre wearing your white turtle neck paired with a long black silken skirt and black Mary Jane flats. All covered by a long black trench coat. The weekâs coming to a close. Youâre running out of ingredients.
Black pen in hand tapping slowly at your bottom lip, a small note in the other.
Meats, vegetables, fruits, water bottles, go to pharmacy.
Youâre missing something. Eyes squinting in annoyance. Brain raking, itâs bothering you. Youâre getting lost in the walls around you, trying to figure out what this thing is. You repeat the list again.
Meats. Vegetables. Fruits. Water bottles. Pharmacy.
Ah.
Suppressants.
You rolled your eyes scoffing at yourself. Youâve been a bit forgetful lately. Waiting until your suppressants are nearly out. Youâre checking your cupboard. One..two pills left you count. You sigh.
âTomorrow.â You say aloud.
Youâre used to this little life youâve created. Weekly shopping, Sunday cleaning. Wake up 5am. Earphones in. Jog, eat, shower, work, repeat.
Like clock work, youâre awake. Still black out. Alarm panging, dead on five. Screeching in your ears.
Youâre laying in your long sleeve bunny pyjamas belly flat on the bed, head turned, pressed into your pillows. Brows screwed, eyes squinting, sleep lines etched on your face. Crust stuck at the corners of your eyes. Your nose crinkling in annoyance. Sniffing. You bring up your right elbow from its disfigured but comfortable position and smack it down on your alarm clock sitting on the bedside table.
Groaning, you rise slowly. Stretching your back, tiptoeing, arms up high now folding behind you. Heading to the bathroom, youâre splashing cold water on your face. A slow deep breath. Arms steady, hands holding either side of the sink. You meet a tired you in the mirror. Opening it, you reach for your scent repellent. Just two sprays. Now youâre ready for your day.
Shutting the front door behind you, earphones in, you stretch a bit. Left arm swinging, right arm under it. You do it the other way. Back bent downwards, legs straightened, arms elongated, touching your toes, the ground almost. With a gradual rise and a long exhale, youâre on your way. Unhurried, lazy runners pace. You maintain that for a lap around your cabin. Then youâre headed to the main road. âNettlesâ by Ethel Cain playing softly in your ears. Low melodious. Pace still measured, arms shifting each step. Youâre a few metres in, flats, houses forming in your peripheral. A corner shop open. Bright. Vivid.
You could use a drink.
You head down further into town, body directed at the shop. Eventually meeting the door of the shop, your body slightly adjusted to the frozen air. A ring of the bell is heard as you enter. The male shop keeper notices you, his face resting in one of his hands, eyes heavy. Sagging. A purple brownish colour engraved below them. His head falling and quickly rising. His eyes lighten fairly upon seeing you. Waving sluggishly at you. You give a soft smile and wave back.
Heading to the drink section, you grab a five hundred millilitre bottle of water from the fridge and walk up to the till. Placing your bottle down on the counter, you pay shortly after.
âHave a nice day.â You say. Short, soft, concise.
âAnd you too.â
-
The sun had already risen. A pale whitish sphere, faintly piercing through. 9am, the clock read. You were in your home, had already showered, eaten. Although your fridge was practically begging to be full. Only a couple red peppers remained. âMore shops will probably be open.â You thought.
You were out the cabin, car keys in hand on your way back to the town centre. A small, red Mini Cooper sitting slumped in heavy snow just outside. You open the drivers side, snow falling off that side of the car, and sit down. Plugging your keys into the vehicle, wind shields wiping away at the snow covered front window. You drive steadily into town.
Meats, vegetables, fruits, water bottles, pharmacy â must go!!
A vivid image of the note you made flashed. It repeated in your head, chanting almost.
First stop, the supermarket.
-
A cold quiet morning. Harsh crispy air brushing against your cheek. Your eyes crinkle at the feel of it. Youâve parked your car in a nearby parking garage.
Not so often you see the supermarket this silent. Youâre dressed warmly in a loose white shirt underneath a grey jumper. Straight legged dark blue jeans covering your black uggs. All hidden under your black trench coat.
Boots crunching in the snow, youâre walking in. Automatic doors sliding open for you. You grab a basket and begin your search.
-
Heavy bags weighing down at your sides. Full of fresh ingredients, meats.
Meats, vegetables, fruits, water bottles, pharmacy.
âAlright.â You whisper, cold air passing through your lips, pleased with your small achievement of the morning.
Second stop, small shop.
You enter the shop, a bell sounding as you do so. Thereâs a few people in the shop. About four if you bothered to look. You pay no mind though. Just solely focused on one task at hand. That task being water bottles. Youâre pacing around the shop, eyes raking up and down the shelves. The bottles. Finally. Placed on the grey marble ground, in front of a transparent fridge directly reflecting the shop door. A free mirror, you think. You crouch down, hands out and ready to grab one pack. For a reason you couldnât explain, your eyes glance up to the fridge, unfocusing, you see a few people walking by, their figure cutting out where the fridge ends. Still looking around, you see the trees, how theyâre no longer green but white. The no longer brown wood, eyes trailing down the trees back to the public. Eyes- you notice deep hazel eyes staring as if staring at your open skeleton itself. Fixed on yours. You let the thought of the transparent fridge fool you into believing no one could see you. A coincidence.
Shrugging, you pick up either end of the pack of water bottles and stand to your full height. Out of curiosity, you eye the see-through shop door.
Khaki coloured eyes. Closer now. Black jacket. Hooded up. A man that seems to be in a balaclava?
Heâs huge, you ponder. Biceps nearly bursted at the sides of his black coat. His lower half is covered by bushes. Your face contorts into a puzzled look. Thereâs no way he saw you. You donât want to believe it. Looking away you head over to the till and pay.
Exiting the shop, hefty bags carrying all your shopping, a litter of bumps gather on your skin. You want to believe itâs from the cold. A low lump sitting at your belly. A warning maybe.
You head over to the last stop on the list. The pharmacy. Suppressants. Your brain reminding you once again.
Itâs a cramped place. Medicine stacked on the dark wooden shelves across the room. Chalky walls. Ashen almost. The lights flicker a bit. Must be old. Thereâs a man at the other side of the till. Got a gloomy look to him. Thin glasses hanging at the top of his bridged nose. Crinkled skin. A small bruise on the side of his cheek. Eyes droopy.
âCan I help you?â You hear his tired voice ask.
You give a small smile.
âIâm here for a replenishment.â You keep your eyes on his, still smiling as you readjust a bag on your arm.
âYour name please.â He responds dryly. Your face falters a bit.
You give him your name. He types away at the old white desktop on his right. He reaches over to a small brown plastic bag and hands it to you.
You hear a small chime of the pharmacy bell but donât pay too much mind to it. Thereâs heavy thuds behind you. A hefty musky smell, woody almost with a hint of an orange peel. A citrusy smell meant something. A near heat or rut possibly. A familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach. Fear? It's only footsteps, probably getting their suppressants. Youâre still focused on the man in front-
âHave I seen you âround here before?â A deep baritone voice sounding behind you. Close to you. You spin around, eyes all wide at the sound of him. The pharmacist immediately drops into a crouched position. He knows that voice. Canât let this customer see him.
âUhâuhâŠâ You stutter. Lip quivering.
You know him. Know exactly who this is. Simon Riley. Or what the town calls him, âGhostâ.
The whole town knows of him. They know to steer clear of him. Never get in his way. Avoid him if you can. Donât let him get you. A menace. Killer. All sorts of nasty comments you havenât heard before. Heâs got a familiar balaclava on. Almost looking like the one you saw earlier. Squinting eyes staring deep into your wide ones. Head tilted slightly, amused by your reaction. You canât tell though.
âCanât talk?â
âUhm noâno. No you uh havenât.â Youâre shaking your head looking everywhere else but at him. Thereâs a thin line of sweat forming at your forehead. You try not to wipe it.
His broad frame, blocking everything in front of you. You finally look up at him, eyes all doey, scared.
âHm.â He grunts, gives you a slow look over. Eyes falling slowly down your frame then back up to your nervous face. Cute.
He turns back around and exits the pharmacy. You heave a sigh of relief. Ghost? Talking to you? You nearly donât believe it. Not until the pharmacist behind you speaks.
âHâhere. Please leave. Quickly.â
Weight bags on either side of you, youâre walking over to your parked car. The cold air, still lingering. Youâre heart patters in your chest. Simon Riley. Absolutely no way.
You make it to your car, fiddling with your bags arms scurrying deep in each one to find the key. You hear it unlock and youâre carefully placing the bags at the back seat, then heading quickly into the front. Door slamming shut. Locked. Both hands on the wheel. Knuckles losing then regaining colour.. Youâre brain still lagging. You look around yourself, assessing the area. You see him. Again. Your breath stutters when you notice him. Heâs staring deep at you. Heâs to your right, body slightly hidden by a tall bush. Youâre tapped in place, body hypnotised, regulating. Registering something deep. Pooling low. A small warmth. Thereâs no way. Your body recognises him as compatible. You have his full attention.
Your breathâs still stuck in your throat.
âSimon.â You breathe out finally. Itâs almost as if he heard you because heâs walking now. Quick measured steps toward you. Youâre shaking. Yet you canât move. Hands still plastered at the wheel. Heâs nearer. Walks over to the passenger's seat window. One two firm taps at the window. Eyes still fixed on him. He never left yours. Your body responds before your mouth can. A needy smell illuminates you. Lemony. Citrusy. Your eyes are fully dilated. The omega in you keening. Inviting. You want him. Your brain hasnât caught up yet. His scent now etched in your body. You didnât even realise he had been warming you up to his smell this whole time.
A whisper of a faint musky orange peel surfaced your brain. It was when the autumn air still lingered. That citrusy smell you couldnât get enough of. Youâd perch over your opened windows, eyes all closed as you relished the smell. He was scenting your home and you didnât know. You recall hearing small cracks of sticks but it couldâve been anything. Except it was Simon.
Your right arm moves to open the passenger door. He opens it and sits his burly body inside your car, shutting the door as he does so.
Youâre still looking at him, mouth parted slightly. You canât understand why your body is reacting this way. Heâs still staring. Eyes heavy, low. You donât know what it is but you start the car, engine roaring quietly. Youâre driving home now. A hidden command from him. Your omega wants him in your space. Wants him to invade your things. Invade you. Is it your heat? Thatâs not until a coupleâ days. You wanted to think weeks. But your body has found a compatible mate. It just so happens to be the worst person you can think of.
You park in your entry, turn off the engine and slowly look to your left. Eyes hazy, breathing hesitant. A whine stopping at your throat. Trapped in your esophagus. He knows you want to. Doesnât need to ask you.
Youâre both stumbling into your cabin, his tongue deep in your mouth. Balaclava bunched on his crooked nose.
Heâs ripping your coat off your body. Biceps contracting. Your black trench falls carelessly on your floors. Green veins running up his large hands holding the back of your neck, your waist. One of his hands drifting down, gripping your arse. Groaning into your mouth. Spit mixed. Your odours intertwine. A ripe lemon and orange peel staining the air.
You're whining. Teeth clashing. Heâs biting at your bottom lip. Strong arms wrapping you. Engulfing your body.
âBeen watching you for weeks.â His voice came out heavy, breathy.
You canât respond with anything other than a mewl. Your hands havenât left the fabric at his chest. Youâre clutching at him. Body all needy. The warmth at your lower belly blooming into a vicious heat. White hot pleasure taking hold of you. Body seizing up. You're stunned. Eyes all wide and wet. Breath coming in fat heaves.
âSiââ You whimper out. Knees bending. Betraying you. Submission. He sees your body submitting to him before you can even voice it. You really want to. Badly.
Beefy arms pull you up and into him. Your legs hanging off his forearm, head lulled out, falling backwards.
He knows where your room is. Knows where everything in your home is. He knows exactly where you keep your suppressants, your diary. Heâs read it all. Youâve never heard anyone enter your home at night. Yet heâs always there. Watching you sleep. He admires how your tits puff out when you breathe in, how you drool a bit. A few snores. Fucking obsessed with your body. The fat of your thighs. His alpha knew you were his.
Youâre trembling, snivelling into his chest. He sets you down on your bedsheets, body going slump. He stands to his full height, pulling down his balaclava back over the rest of his face and just watches. Hidden again.
Heâs slow to take his jacket off. Pulling the zip down in a long stroke. Shoves it off his body.
âI need nghh~â Youâre moaning out, hands attempting to take your top off. Too weak. Thereâs a little drool spilling at the side of your mouth.
He doesnât bother to take the rest of his clothes off. Heâs come too far in this to focus on himself.
âShh.â Your body, listening immediately.
He hauls your top off for you, now left in just a black lace. Sweat glistening on your chest. Beads rolling down.
âFuckinâ âell.â He curses low.
His arms circle your body, taking the lace off. Tits spilling out, the air wafting over your hardened nipples. You sob. Body clutching in on itself. He doesnât let you. His large hand, pushing you down at your shoulder.
âNo movinâ.â A warning.
Your arms are flat on the bed, hands resting above you, fisting the pillow. He removes your lower clothing in one strong pull. Your hips lifting instinctively. Your insatiable need to please your mate.
Panties gone. You're vulnerable before him. Hairs decorated around your wet pussy. Weeping. Leaking. A bead of slick sliding down from your hole onto your arse. Hips twitching.
Your bodyâs flushed, waiting. Heâs being too slow. He has to savour this moment.
âPlease.â You whimper out.
âA talkative bird ainât ya.â He voices, still low toned.
âGotta please this pussy, donât I?â Taunting you. Letting out a low, mocking whistle.
Heâs got his knees pressed into your bed, hands on your inner thighs, pressing into them. Your pussy parting each time. A tear slips out of you. Your headâs thrown back into the pillow. Lips tightly pressed, suppressing the moan trapped at your throat. Eyes shut tight.
He presses in once more, and you canât help the noise that left you. You bring down one of your arms, scratching at his, trying to bring it where you need it most.
âWant me there, hm?
My fingers in your cunt?â
Youâre vigorously nodding. A string of âpleaseâs leaving your wet, kissed stained mouth. He doesnât remove your hand. Doesnât need to. You canât move someone as big as him.
You still canât see his face fully. Only his eyes. But you know heâs smiling at you. You make out a small dent under the balaclava. His alpha pleased at your omega. You want to see more of him. But your heat wonât let you form the sentence.
He doesnât care though. Heâs going to take you.
He brings his rugged thumb, circles it on your throbbing puffy clit.
âAngh!â
Your hips twitch towards him. More beads of slick fall out your drenched pussy. A few more tears rolling down your face. The heat nearly consuming you.
His thumb moving slowly up and down your clit, inching towards your gaping hole. Your hips follow on instinct. Rolling with his hand.
âFuck sakes.â Youâre a sight. His tip leaking heavy drops of pre.
His thumb finds your soaked hole, another bead leaking out coating it. He pushes in slow and deep. Long thick thumb stretching you out.
You scream. Back bowing. Toes curled into the sheets, fingers still scratching at his arms. Your head is lulled to the side, the whites of your eyes on display.
Heâs thumbing your hole. Quick deep strokes of his thumb.
Squelch squelch.
âSheâs a loud twat, ainât she?â Voice rugged.
Youâre moaning loud, your heat making it feel way better than itâs supposed to.
Fuck youâre close. Body heating up even more, twitching, writhing. Leaving moon shaped dents on his forearms.
âYou markinâ me already?â Heâs cackling low.
âNgh câclose!â
âI know.â You pussy throbs.
His voice has such an intense effect on you. Heâs been scenting your clothes so you get used to his smell. Needs your body reacting before you do.
OneâŠtwo..three pumps of his thumb and your convulsing. Body quaking. Mouth hung open in a beautiful âoâ shape, brows squinted. You silently cry out letting your orgasm wash over you. Long waves of heat spread over your body.
âNeed you.â Voice all gone, yet you managed to whisper out.
âYouâll âave me.â
He slowly pulls his thumb out and stares at it in awe, glistening in your cum. Youâve marked him as yours, now he has to return the favour.
Not giving you any time to recover, he plunges two thick long fingers deep into your pussy. You let out a shocked scream. Hips jerking at the sudden stretch. He leans his body into yours as he pushes his fingers as far as they could go. Heâs close to you now. Face just a few inches from yours. You're breathing out hefty breaths, fanning his hidden face. Eyes fully dilated.
âGot a deeep cunt on ya.â He praises. You moan in response. Your arms feel heavy, your trembling fingers attempting to hook the edges of his balaclava and pull down. It comes off revealing messy blonde locks. The two of you reach forward, lips meeting in a sloppy kiss. Mouths open, breathing heavy. Tongues rolling against each other. Heâs pistoning his fingers fast. Quick deep strokes making it hard for you to kiss him back. Itâs too messy.
Heâs grunting into you, youâre whining into him. One hand gripping the hairs at his nape. The other gripping the hairs at the middle of his head. You're rolling your hips into his hand. His thumb bumping your clit every stroke. Heâs fucking at your g spot, fingers curling, scissoring your pussy. You break the kiss with a loud moan.
âCâcanât take it! Simonââ
âYou will. Didnât wait this long for you to tap out.â He sounds so rough.
âAnhh! Hngh.â
Another few scissors of your pussy and youâre sooo close again. Youâre whinging, body twisting, turning away. You want to run. Want to scream at him. Fight him.
Youâre smacking at his chest, heâs still too close watching your face so intently. He needs to see what makes it contort. He likes that you fight back. Makes him harder. Heâs straining at his boxers. Cock twitching, itching to be inside your needy cunt. He knows you need his knot.
You're slapping his shoulders, hands balled up in fists, punching at him. He curls his fingers just right and youâre screaming. White blinding pleasure. Youâre clutching at him now. Heâs fucking his fingers at that exact spot. Engrossed in the way your brows contorted, the way your cheeks deepen in colour. How your wet lashes stick to the top of your cheeks.
âFâfuck fhuck!â Your orgasm, ripping through you.
Your arse pressed deep into the sheets, back arched, pussy gushing out ruining his hand. Arms flailing.
Squelch
His hand sliding out slowly from your bruised pussy. Admiring your work on his fingers. Shining wet. He sees your pussy lips flutter in the corner of his eyes.
âYouâre something else.â
He brings his stained fingers to his mouth, sucking them deep, relishing the taste. Groaning deep. Eyes fluttering shut.
âKnot. Yâyour knot please.â You cry out. Head still planted to the side. Arms wobbly, you reach out to his dark grey joggers. Fingers tugging at the top of it. His happy trail peeking out. He helps his dick out of his joggers, his boxers next, not taking them off fully. Itâs so big. Thick veins running up a few sides, dark red at the tip. Angry. Purple almost. So girthy. Leaking so much pre. Heâs so wet for you.
Your omega hungry at the sight. The orangey peel stench, very prominent now.
âGonna fuck you now. Knot you.â
âPlease.â
He lines his fat cock at the opening of your cunt. Rubs it slowly up and down your clit. Youâre hips jutting, bucking away from him.
The tip pops into you in a slow, deep stroke. He stalls for a moment. Hot pulsing pussy pulling him in.
âFuckââ
He pushes further in. Still slow. You feel every vein on his cock, every curve. Every inch, stretching your walls out. Your mouth, watering at the fullness.
You push at his lower hard stomach, a few hairs tickling your fingers. Heâs fucking huge. You canât take it all at once. Youâre weeping, tears spilling at the sides of your face, tits puffed out.
âMâgonna make you take it.â
He hikes your thighs on top of his, pushes himself further into you, digging your knees into your chest. He sinks in another few inches. Your squinted eyes peer down at where youâre both connected, thereâs still so much more. Your head falls back as you sniffle, a tiny noise leaving your lips.
He pulls his hips back all of a sudden, you gasp at the loss. Your head comes up quickly. Watching.
âNoo. Simon, fuckââ
Slamming his cock deep, hips grinding into yours. His hairs nudged right against your clit. A bulge forming at your lower belly. Your head collapsing back onto the pillow, brain fogged. Your eyes forced back, body quivering. Quick heaves of your chest, your mouth left hung open, more drool spilling out.
Plap plap
Heâs fucking you so deep. Big burly body rocking into you, your pussy sucking him in so tight. So wet. So hot. The roomâs filled with the mix of your bodies, your sweat, the smell of your pheromones. Blooming. Inviting him even more. He takes it.
Cock, pistoning so good. Fucking at your spots. You're wailing against him, scratching at his chest, his hard rigid stomach, his neck. Leaving red crescent marks all over.
âAnngh!â
âSuch a good bird huh? Taking a stranger's cock so well.â
âYâyeah nghh ahh.â
Heâs grinning at you, a few teeth on display.
Youâre gone. So far gone. You're grinding your hips into his, grabbing behind him, his back, pulling him into you. He slows. Deep long strokes now. You canât do anything but feel it. The dent of your stomach, more evident at every rock of his body into yours. Simon places one of his hands on the bulge. Pressing. Pushing it.
You scream, your juices squirting out of your uncontrollably. Youâre shaking so much. Crying. Head stretched back, you're pushing at the bed, jolting away from him.
âThereeeeâs a girl. Thaaâs it, squirt all on me.â
Heâs still fucking you slow and deep, riding you through it. The bed, soaked in your cum, your sweat.
âKnot! Knot me please.â You beg. Voice strained, gone from pleasure.
Sitting up, his arms come to the neck of his sweat stained shirt. All sticky. Dark wet patch on lower part of it. Heâs taking his shirt off now.
His broad hairy chest on show. Ample. Decorated in various tattoos. Youâre in awe of his body.
A few wet hairs stick to the top of his forehead, cheeks dusted pink. Eyes heavy, low. Heâs ogling at your scent gland, right by the curve of your neck and shoulder.
âMâgonna mark you.â His eyes gestured at the gland. You can barely hear him through your heat.
He moves both of your legs on his shoulders, pushes closer to you. Breaths mingling. He pulls his cock out to the knob, then rams into you. Quicker, harder than before.
âOuuh fuck.â
Youâre breathing all over his face. Cheeks deepened in colour.
Chasing his own high now, on the brink of release. Cock brushing at your cervix on every thrust. Did he get bigger? Your eyes widening at the thought. Thereâs a swollen feeling at the bottom of hisâ knot.
âWant my thrust knot hnyeah? Tell me girl. Thrust. Tell me how bad you wanâ it.â His voice, straining. Low, deep. Grunting.
âI wanâ it. Want it so bad. Please. Please. Pleaseââ
He angles his face at your neck, his mouth a breath away from your gland. One hard heavy thrust into your pussy heâs finally cumming. He bites down hard. Your gland, blooming. Blood spilling from the corners of his mouth, his eyes rolling back. You shriek at the feel. Your breath comes in short, rapid pants. Eyes shutting tight. More tears spilling. It hurts so good. Burning sensation washing over you. White hot. Scorching.
White blotchy spurts of his cum flooding you deep. Throaty groans leaving his mouth. You're soaking, drinking it up. Thereâs so much cum, itâs spilling out. Dropping on the sheets. His body nearly collapsed on yours. Your body canât take the weight on you. Heâs so heavy. Your omega yearns for it, wants the weight on you.
His knot, plugging your cunt, trapping you together. You sigh in pleasure. Satisfaction. Content. You still feel a twitch of his cock, small spurts shooting into you.
A few beats pass, his knot finally deflating. Cock only half hard now. Heâs pulling out of you slowly. Beads of his cum following suit. It catches on his tip.
His breathing ragged as he brought his face down to your bruised pussy. It throbs under his burning stare. His mouth inches closer. Wetting his bottom lips, he lunges into you. Sucking, circling, licking at your pussy.
Youâre whining, mewling, bucking your hips away from him. Heâs quicker. Pining your hips down with two large hands. Heâs eating his cum out your pussy.
âTâtoo much!â
âMmh.â Groaning, voice vibrating through your over sensitive pussy.
He brings one of his hands, two fingers plugging it back in. Deep. Fucking his cum back in. Youâre on the cusp again. Hips hiking up. Back arched in a beautiful bow.
His tongue curling, circling on your clit. Youâre seeing stars, everythingâs all blurry. Youâre cumming again.
âSimon!â
His fingers slow. Just strong unhurried thrusts. Youâre coming down. Breath haggard. Eyes blown.
âCanât leave me now.â He tells you, voice quiet.
The hotel receptionist brow pinched together as she tapped away at her little computer. Giving you and John an apologetic smile after a long moment.
"I'm so sorry. It seems the only rooms we have left are queen beds."
You were confused. Why on earth would that be an issue. That was the plan anyway.
John clapped you firmly on your shoulder. Tugging you close to his side with a grin.
"That's alright. You don't mind sharing the bed with yer dad for a few nights, do you, kid?"
It clicked all at once and you could feel your face growing hot. You couldn't possibly correct him. Especially with the receptionist now awing at the sweet relationship you had with your 'father'. So you just shook your head. Avoiding both of their eyes and gritting your teeth. John was in so much trouble.
At least he was once he finished fucking you like this.
"Yeah... don't mind sharing with yer old man..." He laughed. Tugging your hips back to him and filling you all at once. Fat cock punching so deep you felt the breath leave your lungs.
"Ahh..." Was all you could respond. Eyes rolling back into your skull. Arms giving out so your face fell into the plush pillows of your shared bed.
"Say you love sharing a bed with your dad." He growled low. Leaning over you to press against your back.
The words were heavy on your tongue. Barely able to string two thoughts together as he fucked you, let alone say them out loud.
"Da... ah..." Was all you managed.
John pressed a warm kiss to your cheek. Strong arms wrapped around you so he had the leverage to grind even deeper.
ghost fucking your throat viscously, tears well up in your innocent bambi eyes as the room floods with filthy wet moans. he pats the back of your head, encouraging you like the good little doll you are to take him whole
until your eyes are rolling back, fluttering shut due to the intense burn, drool dribbling down onto the floor creating a small puddle. his cock forming a bulge down your neck as you struggle to breath, gagging from his massive size as he continues thrusting relentlessly
"ey, easy love, don't be blackin' out on me" he taps your cheeks with his gloved fingers, wiping your smudged mascara as he pulls out of your mouth. you wrap your arms around his calf clinging to him, as you bury your face against his thigh letting out little whimpers, pain and pleasure electrifying your body, looking up at him with hazed eyes too fucked to think straight
he tilts his head to the side slightly, the faintest hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth beneath the mask. his fingers move slowly through your hair, waiting for your breathing to settle. the second he decides you are calm enough, he jolts your chin sharply, forcing you upwards and back to where you belong
right in front of his dick, with his cock resting on your tongue, looking up at him through your wet eyelashes waiting for him to stuff you again, his perfect little doll
Plot: You're not exactly sure when teasing turned to tension or when tension turned to need tonight. All you know is that your knees hit the floor fast and willingly.
anyway âđ» I love you, besties đ€ thank you for sticking around and checking in on my chaotic ass. you guys seriously mean the world to me đ„č
P.S: I'm sorry this is once again a very long oneshot but I needed the comfort (and the filth) and I fully took it out on Jay and his girl đ„ș hope you won't mind me projecting all over the place with this one đđ»ââïž
There's just something about the way he always looks at you. Half lidded eyes, a lazy smirk like he already knows exactly how wrecked you're going to be by the end of this. It's not even about control with himâthough let's be honest, he's very good at that tooâit's about how easy it is to fall apart.
Jason loves watching you wreck yourself on his dick before he even fucks you. You're on your knees, lips stretched tight around his cock, drool dripping down your chin as you take him deep, gagging when he presses against the back of your throat. His fingers tangle in your hair, guiding you, ruining you as he grunts, watching your messy, desperate struggle to please him.
And you are desperate. The way you bob your head, working your tongue under his shaft, flattening it against the thick vein along the underside, the way you hollow your cheeks, humming just to hear him curse under his breath, the way your thighs press together because you can't help it.
"Fuck, baby, look at you," he groans, voice ragged, a smug smirk pulling at his lips. The bastard. "So damn pretty with your mouth full. Gettin' me all wet, huh?"
His grip tightens in your hair when you try to pull back for a breath, forcing your nose right back into the skin at the base of his cock. You choke on it, sputter around him, and his abs tense with a low, filthy groan.
"That's it, baby. Take it. I know you can."
His voice is all need and heat, that low rasp that always gets your thighs rubbing together just from the way he talks. And fuck, he's so thick, it always feels like your mouth is stretched to the limit around him. Heavy on your tongue, velvety soft skin dragging along your lips every time he rocks his hips. Precum smears warm and salty against the back of your throat with every shallow thrust, leaking so much you swear he's teasing you on purpose.
You can't tell if you're more drunk on the weight of his dick in your mouth or the way he sounds, like he's two seconds from losing it and fucking your throat until he's spilling every drop straight down it.
Your hands are trembling against his thighs, fingers digging into the muscle as you breathe through your nose, spit pooling in your mouth while you let him use you. And Jason? He looks fucking wrecked. Head tipped back, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring like he's trying to keep it together but failing. His hips roll forward slow, fucking your mouth with lazy thrusts, savoring every single second.
But you love it. His praise, his dick, the way your jaw aches and your throat burns and your heart flutters every time he guides you back down with that big, rough palm. You love how messy he lets you get, how greedy he lets you be. And yeah, maybe you also love how hard he gets just by watching you ruin yourself on his cock.
"Messy little mouth," he mutters, looking down at you. "You like it like this, huh? Like bein' full of my dick, doll? Bet your panties are soaked already, aren't they?"
You blink up at him, teary eyed and flushed, and the softest little whine bubbles from your throat around his cock and fuck if that doesn't nearly snap his restraint clean in half.
"Jesus Christ," he groans, head tipping back for a second, fingers flexing in your hair. "Such a good fuckin' girl for me."
Your whimper vibrates around him and he feels it. He sees how desperate you are, how your pussy is probably dripping already. And it is. Jason chuckles, tugging your head back until his cock slips free, leaving you gasping, saliva connecting your lips to the tip in a little string before it breaks.
"God, I should film this," he pants, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "Let you watch how dumb you look fuckin' your pretty mouth on my dick. You'd love that shit, wouldn't you? Fuckin' droolin' like a desperate little thing."
Then he's pushing back in, slow but deep, watching your lips stretch wide around him, the corners of your eyes welling up as your jaw quivers, throat tightening in reflex when his dick slides right past that soft, choking point. He groans againâdeep, possessiveâand this time there's no teasing in it, just raw hunger.
The soft, wet sound of it, the messy little gasps and wet clicks when he fucks into your mouth makes his cock twitch. His hips roll forward slow, controlled, but there's nothing soft about it. He feeds you his cock in slow, thick strokes, watching your lips strain, your breath stutter as he starts fucking your mouth. You moan, choked and needy around him, and he feels it vibrate down his shaft, feels it all the way in his gut.
Your eyes flutter, tears spilling over when his hips snap forward just a little sharper, his balls brushing your chin. His dick is a fucking messâslick with your drool, precum smeared along the thick vein on the underside, shining every time he drags it back over your tongue. Spit strings from your lips when he rocks out, then sinks right back in, wet and heavy on your tongue.
"Shit, yeah... there she is," he rasps, eyes blown wide with lust as he takes in the sight of youâglassy eyed, panting, wrecked just from sucking his dick.
It's filthy. Sloppy. And he fucking loves how your spit coats him, how you're gagging just a little, nose scrunching when the head hits the back of your throat again. Loves the little shivery sounds you make when your jaw is stretched to the limit, lips swollen and slick.
But just when you're choking a little sweeter around him, eyes glassy and tongue flicking against the underside of his cock, he tightens his grip in your hair and pulls you off with a wet pop. He groans, jaw clenched like it physically hurts to stop. Because fuck, he'd love nothing more than to stuff your throat full and blow his load right down it, watch you swallow every drop while you blink up at him, all pretty and ruined, but he'd rather cum inside you.
"C'mere."
Before you can respond or process what's happening, Jason's got you on the couch on all fours, back arched, ass in the air, completely at his mercy. You don't even notice him sliding your panties down until they're halfway down your thighs, the fabric sticking just a little from how wet you are. He hums behind you, one big, warm hand squeezing your ass before he slaps it, the other dragging the lace the rest of the way down.
"Fuck, baby," he mutters when he feels how soaked they are before he even touched you. "You're already drippin' for me."
Then his hand slides in, rough fingers gliding right through your puffy folds, and your moan is needy and breathless and embarrassingly loud. The way he touches you isn't fast or hard, but it wrecks you, sends heat crawling up your spine like fire.
His hands spread you wide, thick fingers dragging through your dripping pussy before he moves higher, teasing over that tight little hole with slow, lazy circles.
"You ever let anyone touch you here before, pretty girl?" he murmurs, almost mocking as he presses the pad of his thumb against it, not quite pushing in.
But he knows the answer. Doesn't matter what you say, no one's touched you like he does. No one's ruined you like this.
You whine, pushing back against him, but he chuckles, pulling his hand away completely, leaving you empty, aching. Then his cock is there, heavy, dragging through your slick, getting nice and messy before he taps the head against your clit, making you jerk.
"God, you're so fuckin' wet," he groans, giving your ass a sharp slap, watching the ripple with hungry eyes. "What, all that just from suckin' my dick?"
He lines himself up, teasing your entrance, pushing in just the tip before pulling back out, making you sob. "C'mon, baby. Beg for it."
You do, because you need him. Because you're dripping down your thighs, desperate, clenching around nothing as you push your hips back, trying to take more.
But your brain isn't working anymore, not really. Not when he's talking to you like that, not when you can feel the fat head of his cock nudging at your entrance, dragging back through your slick, over and over again.
"Jay," you gasp, your voice high and wrecked and so fucking needy. "Please, Iâfuck, I can'tâ"
He grins behind you, slow and smug. His hand comes down hard on your ass again, then smooths over the sting with a lazy rub, palm kneading over the soft curve before giving it a squeeze that's just shy of mean.
"Jay," you gasp, brain melting the second he grinds the head of his cock against your soaked little hole again. He's right, you can't even form a full sentence, just raw, needy noises spilling out as your fingers curl into the couch. "Pleaseâplease, fuck, I need itâI need youâ"
He groans at the sound of your voice, all soft and shaky, fucked out already when he hasn't even given it to you yet.
"Yeah?" he mutters, rubbing slow, lazy circles around your entrance with his cock, just barely dipping in, never deep enough to satisfy, just enough to tease. "What do you need, baby? Gotta use your words."
You whimper, dropping your head down, back arching as you try to fuck yourself back onto him. "Need you inside," you cry out. "Need you to fill me upâplease, I can'tâneed it so bad, Jay, please..."
"Goddamn," he mutters, watching you shiver under him. His hand grabs your hip tight, holding you still, making sure you can't get it until he gives it. "You're so fuckin' cute when you beg. My pretty desperate girl."
You're trembling, mouth open, eyes stinging with how badly you need it. He's still teasing, still giving you just the tip, still watching you fall apart like it's his fucking job. And it kind of is.
"Jayâ" your voice cracks, ruined and raw, your whole body shaking with pure fucking frustration. "Just fuck me already."
He freezes, then laughs, one of those full body chuckles. "Oh, now you've got a mouth, huh?" he teases, cock twitching at your entrance. "So fuckin' needy you forgot your manners."
But he gives in, finally, because you're soaked and shaking and clenching around nothing, and he can't take it either. Jason grunts, grabs both your hips, and in one slow, deep stroke, he sinks in, splitting you wide, bottoming out until his thighs press flush against yours.
"Fuck," he groans, voice wrecked as he grinds in deep, letting you feel every thick, pulsing inch. He leans over you, one hand curling around your neck, the other slipping under you to toy with your soaked clit. "That's it, baby, takin' me so fuckin' good. Lemme hear you."
And when you cry out, back arching as he starts to move, dragging almost all the way out before slamming back in, his voice turns soft, almost sweet.
"There you go," he purrs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, thrusting deep, hitting that spot that always makes your legs shake. "That's my good girl."
Then he bites downâhardâright where your neck meets your shoulder, making your breath hitch and your pussy clamp down around him. The sting of it sends sparks across your skin, but before you can whimper, he licks the spot, his tongue wet and warm as he soothes it.
He doesn't stop moving. His hips roll into you in deep, wet thrusts, his cock sliding in and out with ease, coated in your slick, every inch of him drenched and glistening. You can hear it, that messy slap of wet skin on skin every time he fucks you harder, chasing the little fluttering squeeze of your cunt around him. He's soaked already, every thrust a wet, obscene slide that leaves your skin sticky and your body buzzing.
Jason can feel your body responding to every twitch, every clench, the way your hips push back like you're chasing more even when he's giving you everything. He knows your pussy better than anyone, knows just how to angle his hips to make you sob, and it's got his head spinning.
You're so soft, warm, and so fucking tight, and the way you squeeze around him every time he hits that spot has him gritting his teeth, sweat prickling at his temples. His fingers rub tight circles over your clit, relentless and greedy, matching the pace of his thrusts, just rough enough to make your thighs start trembling beneath him.
He watches you fall apart and thinks it's the prettiest sight he's ever seen. Your flushed back, your open mouth, the way your hips keep pushing back to meet every thrust even when you're already shaking.
And underneath it all, one thought claws through his brain on repeat: mine. His thrusts get rougher, hips slapping against your ass with filthy, wet smacks. You can't even brace yourself properly, so your fingers claw helplessly at the couch cushions, trying to hold on while he fucks you through the next wave of pleasure building low and tight in your belly.
Jason leans in close, chest heavy on your back, lips brushing the shell of your ear. "That's it, baby, just like that."
Your legs shake, your whole body is humming, every nerve ending lit up like he's fucking you raw with nothing but praise and dick. He knows exactly how to wreck you, how to draw it out, how to keep you right on that edge.
You sob against the cushions, voice muffled, brain barely able to string thoughts together. It's too much but it's not enough at the same time. You need more, need him, need all of him.
He bites your shoulder again, then licks over it, soothing the sting, voice warm and ragged against your skin.
"Takin' it so fuckin' good for me, doll. You're perfect like this, y'know that? Lettin' me fuck this tight little pussy, lettin' me fill you up."
Your moan breaks in your throat, choked and high pitched, your body jolting with every hard thrust. His hand is still on your clit, rubbing fast, tight circles that make your thighs shake. You can't even think, you're just trying to stay upright while Jason pounds you into the couch.
"Look at you," he mutters, breath hot against your ear, "clutchin' the fuckin' pillows like they're gonna save you. So fuckin' messy for me."
You're so fucking close, and you know exactly why. Because sucking his cock gets you soaked every time, and you're still worked up from earlier, from how deep he fucked your throat, from the way he moaned for you while you gagged on him. And now he's splitting you open, stuffing you full of the same dick you were drooling over a few minutes ago.
Every stroke makes your pussy clench tighter around him, needy and hot and soaking him all over again. His dick is drenched, sliding in and out of you so easy, wet and loud and filthy, stretching you open until you're gasping with every thrust, stuffed full of every inch.
"Fuck, baby," he groans when you clench around him, "you feel that? You hear that shit? You're so fuckin' wet for me I can't even think straight."
Your pussy flutters around him at the praise, and he grunts, deep and desperate, his hips stuttering just slightly when he feels it. Christ, he loves how you always melt when he talks to you like this.
"Shitâsqueezin' me so fuckin' tight. You gonna cum for me like this, huh? Gonna let me feel you lose it?"
You don't even mean to moan like that but God, it just rips out of your throat, high and desperate and raw when it hits you all at once. Your back arches, mouth falling open, gasping around broken little sobs as your orgasm crashes through you.
Your clit throbs hard under his touch, and your thighs tremble like they might give out. You're soaked, dripping around his cock, creamy slick coating his shaft every time he fucks back in. It's messy. So fucking messy. You can feel it on your skin, on your thighs, between them, wet and warm and filthy, just how he likes it.
"That's it, baby," Jason groans, still right at your ear, his voice gone hoarse, "that's my girl. Fuckin' look at you."
He groans again when your pussy clamps down around him, pulsing with each wave of release. He feels every flutter, every slick, tight squeeze, and it drags another low, wrecked sound from his throat.
"Goddamn, you're so fuckin' tight when you cum."
You're barely breathing, still twitching under him, and that's when he finally lets go, hand slipping from your clit, the other loosening from around your neck. You collapse against the couch cushions, boneless and wrecked, lips parted around soft whimpers.
Jason pulls back a little, straightening up behind you so he can watch, hands gripping your hips, thumbs digging into your skin as he fucks into you slow, deep, wet. His eyes are locked on the way your pussy stretches around his dick, swollen and soaked.
"Fuck," he mutters, "I could watch this pussy fuckin' swallow me for hours."
He gives your ass a hard slap, watches the way it jiggles, then spreads you wider just to see it better: his glistening cock sliding in and out of your fluttering hole, dripping with slick and still twitching from how hard you came.
"You feel that? Still fuckin' twitchin' around my dick. You're not done, doll, are you?"
You moan againâloud, needyâyour voice cracking as you look over your shoulder at him, lips slick with drool, eyes glassy and blown wide. You're still trembling from your orgasm, still dripping around his cock, and yet you're pushing back into him.
You fuck yourself on him clumsy, desperate, your thighs shaking with the effort, the angle messy, sloppy, obscene. The way your ass bounces back against his hips with each weak, greedy thrust is downright pathetic.
"Jay..." you whimper, breath hitching, "More. Please. Need your cum, baby."
Jason lets out the filthiest moan you've heard tonight, low and guttural and fucking wrecked. His hands tighten on your hips as your pussy flutters around him on purpose, squeezing him with every word, every plea, and he feels it.
"Yeah?" he pants, "you want it that bad, pretty girl?"
You nod frantically, bottom lip trembling, moaning as more drool slips down your chin.
He breathes out a broken "Jesus fuckin' Christ," right before one hand slams flat between your shoulder blades, pushing you down hard into the couch cushions.
Your cheek presses into the fabric, the friction grounding you even as your thoughts spiral. Then he starts to move, fucking into you deep and fast, no more teasing. Every thrust knocks the breath from your lungs, the rhythm so unforgiving that you can't do anything but take it. His cock drives into you again and again, stretching you wide, splitting you open, dragging slick noises out of your body that make him groan every damn time.
He watches it all, can't even look awayâthe way your cunt stretches for him, how soaked you are, how your folds cling to every inch when he pulls back. You're gripping him so tight, and he feels every flutter, every greedy little squeeze when your pussy is trying to drag him right back in.
And fuck if he doesn't give it what it wants, rolling his hips slow, deep, just to see the way your wetness sticks to his cock when he slides out, messy and obscene. Every sound, every little tremble of your thighs, just pushes him closer to the edge, makes him slam back in harder, deeper.
"Fuck," he mutters, jaw clenched, sweat dripping down his chest as he keeps pounding into your soaked, twitching hole. "You hear that shit? Hear how wet you are for me, baby?"
You're moaning nonstop, mouth slack, drooling on the cushion beneath you as your eyes roll back, voice going higher and more broken with every thrust. His cock feels so deep, so thick and hot and heavy inside you, and your pussy is fluttering again, slick gushing around him, your body already trying to give him another orgasm.
And Jason can feel every spasm, every wet pull of your pussy as you squeeze him tighter. His grip on your back tightens, holding you down, keeping you right where he wants you.
"You want my cum? Huh, doll? Gonna fill this pretty pussy up, make it drip outta you just so I can push it back in with my dick. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
You let out the filthiest sound yet, sobbing through your moans, nodding, choking on a little gasp when his dick hits that spot that makes your toes curl. Jason groans again, sharp and strained, wrecked by how good you feel around himâhot, soaked, clenching, and he knows he's close.
He can't take it anymore, not when you're dripping around his dick and begging for his cum like that, so fucked out and sweet and needy he can barely think.
He slides a hand up your back, rough palm dragging along your spine until it curls around the back of your neck. Not tight, not mean, just firm, because he needs to feel you, keep you close, keep you his. He tugs you back gently but without room to resist, until your spine is arched against him, until your ass is flush to his hips and your back is pressed to his sweat slicked chest.
"C'mere, baby," he pants against your ear.
His other arm wraps around your waist, locking you in place, and then he's using his free hand to finger your clit again, fast and messy, rubbing tight little circles over that swollen bundle of nerves, making you jolt with every pass of his fingers. He doesn't stop fucking you, not even a little. His hips keep snapping up into you, hard and fast and so deep, fucking you through every shake and sob that escapes your parted lips.
You gasp, head falling back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering open just enough to look up at him, and he looks fucking wrecked.
Dark hair a mess, jaw clenched, cheeks flushed, sweat glistening on his neck, his eyes burning before he kisses you. Sloppy. Wet. Filthy. His lips crush against yours, tongue sliding in deep, moaning into your mouth like he needs the taste of you to survive. The kiss is all teeth and spit and desperate little gasps between breaths, your mouth falling open for him over and over again as he fucks you harder, deeper, chasing the way your walls pulse around his cock.
You can't even kiss him properly. You're so wrecked, all you can do is moan into him, lips twitching and trembling, drool slipping from the corner of your mouth as your clit throbs under his fingers.
Jason groans into your mouth, biting your lower lip, sucking it between his teeth for a second before licking over the sting like he can't stand to be gentle, can't stand not to devour you. But you don't want him to.
And the whole time, he doesn't slow down. His cock is soaked, sliding in and out of your tight, dripping pussy like it's his fucking job. Each thrust gets filthier, wetter, the slap of skin on skin echoing in the room, your slick making obscene noises with every move.
"Fuck," he pants against your lips, hips grinding up into you with a sharp snap, "You're gonna make me lose it, baby. You feel that?"
You whimper, arching into him, legs trembling, so close to breaking again, so close you can barely speak. Your whole body is trembling, legs shaking, fingers gripping his arms while he keeps fucking into you from behind, every inch of his cock dragging through your soaked, fluttering walls. You're making the sweetest little wrecked sounds under your breath, lips swollen and spit slick from that last kiss, eyes glassy with need.
"G-God, Jayâ"
It comes out in a gasp, all breath and slur, barely coherent. "Y-youâfuckâyou feel so good..."
He groans, lips brushing your temple as he keeps moving inside you, hips slamming up fast and needy.
"Yeah, doll?" he pants, voice wrecked, shaky from how tight and hot you are around him. "You're fuckin' meltin' around my dick, huh?"
You nod like your brain is not even wired right anymore. "Y-yeah... fuck, yes, yesâplease, fill me up, Jay, please, I need it, need your cum, baby, pleaseâ"
Jason grits his teeth with a sharp hiss, dick throbbing deep inside you at the sound of your voice, all broken and begging and gone. His messy, needy girl, so dick drunk she can't even think straight. That high little whimper in your throat when he grinds in just right, when he presses his fingers harder over your clit, making your pussy spasm around him? He fucking lives for it.
"Shit," he breathes, hand still moving over your clit in tight circles, his hips slapping against your ass. "Fuckin' love when you sound like that, baby. You hear yourself? Can't even talk, huh? So fucked out, so pretty like this. Mine."
You're babbling, hips twitching, tears prickling in your eyes, your moans pitchy and wrecked as he hammers into you. His rhythm is getting sloppy, the pace stuttering, every thrust a little deeper, a little rougher, desperate.
And then, your orgasm hits like a wave. Your clit throbs under his fingers, your pussy clenches around his cock and you cry out loud, sobbing his name as your walls spasm and flutter, so wet and tight and pulsing around him that he nearly loses it right there.
"F-fuckâ"
Jason's whole body jolts, hips jerking as he buries himself deep to the hilt, one last shaky thrust before he lets go. He cums hard, cock twitching, thick ropes of hot cum spilling deep inside your cunt, filling you up until you can feel the heat of it dripping down your thighs. His fingers dig into your skin, his forehead pressed to your shoulder, breath ragged against your skin.
"Jesusâfuckin' hell, baby," he gasps, still twitching faintly inside you.
Your thighs are shaking, your breath is stuck in your throat. Your mind is completely blank except for the feel of his cum dripping out of you and the way he's keeping you pressed against him.
His breath is hot against your shoulder when he finally moves again, mouth brushing lazy kisses along your damp skin. He's still buried deep inside you, cock twitching, your cunt swollen and soaked from how hard he just fucked you.
His arms wrap around your waist, keeping you snug against him. "Good, pretty girl?" he mumbles against your skin, voice warm and all fucked out.
You nod, your body still trembling a little as you sink back against him. "Mhmm," you manage. "So good."
Your hips shift instinctively, a tiny grind back against his dick and fuck, he gasps. You both feel how sensitive he is, how your sore, fluttering pussy tightens just a little around him, slick and warm and still dripping with both your cum.
"More, baby," you whine breathlessly.
"Jesus," he hisses, teeth catching your skin as his fingers grip your waist tighter. "Don't fuckin' do that, doll. Gonna make me lose it."
But you can't help it. Your body is greedy for him, always has been. Even now, with your thighs trembling and your cunt already stretched wide, full, aching, you want more. You always want more with Jason because it's never just the size of him or the way his dick hits so deep you see stars.
No, it's the way he touches you like you matter, the way he learned every part of you. The way he's been obsessed with your pleasure since the very first time he had you moaning under him, soaked and begging.
You grind again, just a little. Another tiny roll of your hips, needing the drag of his cock against your raw, oversensitive walls and he groans like you're torturing him. You are.
His dick twitches again inside you, still hard, still so thick and perfect, nestled deep in your wet, clenching heat. You're throbbing around him, your slick walls fluttering with every breath, hugging his cock perfectly. Even after all this time together, even after countless nights of being fucked dumb by this man, there's just something about himâhis hands, his mouth, his voice, the way he praises you, how he looks at you like he's still stupidly in love. And he is. That's why Jason never stops making you feel wanted, safe, loved, never stops making you feel good.
And right now? Your body wants more. You gasp when you bend forward again, both hands bracing against the couch cushions, your body practically melting back into position. Jason's still buried inside you, hot and thick and so deep, and even that small shift has your pussy clenching hard around him, slick and sensitive. He groans behind you, his head tipping back for just a second like he's trying to breathe before his eyes drag down your back to your ass, spread wide, twitching a little, glistening. And he can't stop looking at it.
You're leaking, dripping around his cock, messy and swollen and so pretty he wants to sink to his knees just to watch. His hands tighten on your waist, and then one drags down, fingers gathering a smear of his cum from where it's pooled at the base of his dick. He knows what he's doing before he even lets himself think about it.
"God, baby," he breathes, voice all heat, "look at you."
And then he slides that slick finger up between your cheeks, slow, dragging it over that tight little hole, and the noise you make? That sweet, sudden moan from deep in your chest? God, he nearly fucking loses it. You tense instantly, pussy clamping around his dick, and he groans.
"Shit," he mutters, voice rough and breathless. "You like that, baby?"
You whimper, high and needy, and push back against him, just like you did earlier, ass pressing into his hips with this desperate little roll. "Y-Yeah..."
He doesn't think, just moves. One slow push of his finger, just the tip, just enough to feel that tight resistance give under him. And fuck, the way your whole body shudders, how you arch for him, legs trembling, he watches the reaction ripple down your spine and groans.
"Yeah, doll?" he asks again, softer, coaxing, even though his cock is throbbing inside you, twitching at how soaked and warm you still are. "That feel good?"
You nod, whining, voice fucked out and breathless as you try to rock your hips again, his cock dragging against your still pulsing walls, his finger teasing in just a little deeper. You look fucking wrecked, needy and messy and glowing under the low light, your body begging for more like you can't even help it.
And Jason? He's about to lose his shit. He knows he's thought about this. Late at night, in the shower, on those long patrols where he can't stop remembering the way your ass looks when you're bouncing on top of him while you're taking his dick.
He's thought about it so many timesâjust touching, just teasing, just wanting to see how you'd reactâbut he's never done it. Never dared. Because the last thing he'd ever want is to push you too far, make you feel like you owed him anything, make you uncomfortable. That's never what this is about.
But the way you're moaning? The way your body shivers when he slides his finger in a little deeper and starts gently moving it in and out, just barely? Christ. You're soaking him again, your pussy fluttering and greedy, trying to pull him in deeper, walls so warm and wet and perfect.
He pulls his cock out almost all the way, just to watch, just to see how you clench, how his cum leaks out of you in slow drips. And then he pushes back in, slow and deep, both of you moaning, because he slides in so easily, snug and slick and tight all at once.
Jason doesn't even get the chance to moveâdoesn't get a chance to pull his hips back, set a pace, nothingâbecause the second he's buried inside you again, you start fucking yourself back on his cock like you've lost your goddamn mind.
You gasp, hips rolling, clumsy and desperate, grinding down until you're taking every thick inch of him with this slick, messy slide that makes your body tremble. His cock stretches you open, dragging over every spot inside you that makes your legs shake and fuck, it feels so good you don't even care how wrecked you sound.
And then there's his finger. You'd never thought you'd be into this. Not with the way your exes treated you, like your body was some puzzle they couldn't be bothered to figure out, all selfish hands and no patience, making you feel like it was your fault when it didn't feel good. They'd never cared. Never tried. They'd barely been able to fuck you right, much less... this. But Jason?
Good fucking lord. Jason touches you like he wants you to come apart, like your pleasure is his favorite thing. Like making you feel good is some kind of fucking art form, and he's been studying for it his whole life. The way his finger works into your ass, slow and careful, his hand steady on your hip while you fuck yourself back on his cock? The way he moans every time your pussy tightens up around him?
Yeah, you're never gonna get enough of this man. He groans behind you, rough and wrecked, his thumb pressing into your hip, holding you steady even though you're grinding back on him so desperately it's making his thighs tense.
"Jesus, doll... fuckin'âlook at you," he rasps. "So goddamn greedy. You just can't help yourself, huh?"
You moan, loud, pitching forward a little on shaky arms as your walls flutter around his cockâand his finger. And it's filthy, the way your ass clenches down around him every time his finger rocks in, the way your sloppy pussy grips his dick so tight it makes him groan through his teeth.
He swears under his breath, head dropping forward as he watches you bounce back on him. You're so fucking insatiable, and it's driving him fucking insane. The noises you let out? These desperate, whiny, punched out moans every time you push back and grind down? Yeah, the neighbors are definitely complaining tomorrow. Not that it's the first time.
And not that Jason gives a single fuck. Because right now, he's got his perfect girl fucking herself on his dick, soaking him, whining for him, moaning like she wants the whole goddamn building to hear. And all he can do is hold your hip tight, finger your ass slow, and praise you for it.
"Who would've fuckin' thought. My pretty girl, so goddamn desperate to get both these holes stuffed full."
His words make you clenchâaround his cock, around his fingerâand he feels it, the way your pussy flutters and grips him tight.
And fuck, his dick? Soaked. You're creaming all over him, slick making a filthy, messy ring at the base of his cock every time you grind back down, every time you fuck yourself onto him. His skin is slick with itâyours tooâand you're both a goddamn mess.
He watches you get sloppy with it, sees how your thighs tremble, how you whine under your breath but you're still so fucking needy. Still chasing it like it's the only thing you want. And it fucking is.
Jason grins as he gives your hip a tight squeeze. "Maybe lemme fuck you, baby," he mutters, "really fuck you."
And he does. One slow pull back, his cock dragging over every swollen, soaked ridge inside you before he sinks in hard, hips smacking against your ass with a sound so sharp it makes your breath hitch.
His free hand holds you tight at the waist, steadying you. The other one is still teasing your ass, finger working slow inside you until Jason shifts his grip, spreads his fingers wider across your hip. His thumb hooks just above the curve of your ass, spreading your cheeks a little more, just enough for him to tilt his head down, let a thick bead of spit drip right between them.
It lands warm on your skin and you shudder, a broken moan punching out of your throat as your pussy clamps down around his dick, squeezing him so hard he swears under his breath.
"Fuck, that's it," Jason groans, snapping his hips forward again, his cock splitting you open on a wet, filthy slide.
And God, the way you take him, slick and swollen, your cunt clenching so tight it drags over every vein on his dick. The sound of skin slapping against skin, thick and obscene, bounces off the walls, the couch creaking under you both.
The sight of his cock sinking into your messy pussy, slick dripping down his balls, that obscene little stretch every time he pushes in? Yeah, that's about to break him.
"Jayâfuckâdon't stop, baby, please..."
Your voice cracks every time his hips snap forward and you don't even know if you're making sense anymore. At this point, it's just a string of yes, please, more, fuck tumbling out.
"P-please... feels so g-good..."
Your words come out all stuttery, cracked at the edges, spilling out between breathless little whines every time his cock slams deep, every time his finger works a little further inside your ass.
"Look at you," he pants, voice low and rough, "so fuckin' pretty like this. Can't get enough, huh, baby?"
He can't believe how desperate you are right nowâhow you're dripping down his cock, pussy fluttering around himâand all it took was his spit slicked finger easing deeper in your ass while he fucks your cunt open, dragging his cock over every spot that makes you whimper.
You're a goddamn mess. Sweaty, clenching, rocking back into him like it's all you know how to do. His hand tightens on your waist, pulling you back to meet every hard, punishing thrust.
And fuck, seeing you like this? Head tipped forward, moaning for him, mouth hanging open as you babble out wrecked little pleas between gasps? He's fucking losing it and fast.
"Goddamn, baby," he breathes, hips snapping forward hard enough your whole body jolts, "fuckin' takin' it like my good girl... so fuckin' perfect for me."
He means it. Means every word because even after all this time, even after all the ways he's had you, the way you fall apart for him like this, the way your pussy grips his dick so tight, soaked and swollen and perfect, you're his. All his.
"Y-Yesâright there, fuckâ"
Your voice breaks on a moan, high and sharp, and then you fall apart. It hits you fast and mean, your whole body tensing before it shudders, legs shaking under you as your pussy clamps down around Jason's dick, hot and pulsing and so fucking wet. Your walls flutter, squeezing him in desperate, spasming little aftershocks, slick gushing around him with every twitch of your hips.
And your ass? Fuck, your ass clenches around his finger, tight and perfect, your whole body so wound up you're gripping him everywhere. Jason moans, rocking his hips in slow, deep thrusts just to feel your puffy walls milking his dick desperately.
And shit, the way you're shaking, gasping, whining his name like you need him even after cumming that hard? Jason's right on the edge. Because fuck if it doesn't tear him open every single time, seeing you fall apart for him like this, knowing it's his dick, his hands, his praise wrecking you.
His stomach tightens, hips grinding in deep as his own orgasm builds hot and thick in his gut. "Fuckâ"
It rips out of him right before his hips jerk forward, burying his cock deep inside you. You feel the hard throb of his dick as it twitches deep in your cunt and then hot, thick spurts of cum flood your spent little hole, warm and sticky and so much.
You gasp, a whiny little "God, yesâ" tumbling past your lips as your walls clench down around him, sucking every drop.
His whole body tightens with every slow, dragging spurt of cumâyour pussy fluttering around him, sucking him in deepâand you keep moving, pushing back in tiny, shaky little rolls of your hips, fucking him sloppily through it, milking him for everything he's got.
"Jesusâ" he hisses between his teeth, hips giving a few messy, uneven thrusts before he finally empties the last pulse inside you.
And when he eases his finger out of your ass, slow and careful, you shudder all over, whimpering.
"Shhh, doll," Jason murmurs, leaning over your back, his mouth finding your sweaty skin in soft, soothing kisses. "It's okay. Breathe for me, yeah?"
You nod, cheek squished against the couch cushions because Christ, you can barely hold yourself upâbody limp, legs trembling, everything hot and heavy and soaked. And he stays there with you, wrapping his arms around your middle, his lips brushing over your shoulder, your spine, anywhere he can reach, soft kisses pressed into every inch of damp skin while his palm rubs your side.
"Good girl," he whispers, voice soft against your skin.
You whimper, soft and breathy when his dick twitches inside you, your body giving a little involuntary shudder and Jason hums, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before he slowly pulls out.
You moan at the feeling, wrecked and overstimulated, your pussy fluttering around nothing. Jason lets out a soft, breathless chuckle behind you.
"Don't do that, doll," he murmurs, giving your hip a gentle squeeze. "Or I might fuck you again."
"Don't even joke right now," you mumble, your voice hoarse and so, so wrecked.
He huffs a soft laugh and then flops down on the couch beside you, big arms reaching for you, easing you into his side with a gentleness that makes your heart clench. He tugs you right against him, hooking one of your shaky legs over his hip, his palm splaying warm and steady over your thigh.
You bury your face against his chest, nuzzling into the warm skin there as you try to shift your leg off him, murmuring, "Jay, I'm dripping..."
And you are. You can feel it. His cum, thick and warm, leaking slow from your sore, fucked out pussy, sticky between your thighs.
Jason snorts, "Yeah, well, I don't give a fuck, baby. We'll wash up."
His hand slides up your back, rubbing soft, slow circles between your shoulder blades. "Just relax for me."
You do. Little by little, your body melts against his as he keeps holding you close, kissing your damp hair, your cheek, the soft skin of your temple, his thumb rubbing soothing strokes over your spine while your heart finally starts to slow.
You can't help the way your thoughts spin, soft and hazy, floating on that warm, fucked out high. Because God, this side of Jason? The soft, tender, sweet aftercare, the way he holds you? You love it so fucking much.
You hadn't expected this when you first got together. Like, you'd figured he'd be good in bed just from the way he'd kiss you, figured he'd wreck you six ways from Sunday. But this? The way he takes care of you after? The kisses, the soft touches, the whispered praises while he helps you come back down? You didn't think he'd have it in him. But fuck, does he ever.
You're still shivering. A little from the way he fucked you open, your body wrecked and overstimulated, and a little from the chill hanging in the air now that the sweat is cooling on your skin but Jason clocks it instantly.
He doesn't even give you a chance to blink before he's shifting under you, one strong arm wrapping around your waist as he hauls you right on top of him, chest to chest, your legs falling limp around his sides.
"Jayâ" you squeak, breath catching in your throat, giggling when your weight settles on him.
You're basically a rag doll at this point, and even if you wanted to fight him on it... yeah, that's not happening.
You manage a weak little swat at his chest, your palm making a soft thud against his damp skin. "God, you're impossible."
But you don't move. Fuck, you melt against him, burying your face right into the warm crook of his neck because well... it's Jason. Human furnace. Walking radiator. His arms are snug around you, broad chest rising and falling beneath yours, heart beating steady like a drum.
Your pussy is still dripping, a slow, sticky slide between your thighs, but you don't care, and he sure as hell doesn't either.
Jason huffs a soft breath, his arms tightening just a little, his hand splayed across your spine. "I love you so fuckin' much, pretty girl," he mumbles against your temple. "You're fuckin' perfect, you know that?"
You hum against his skin, brushing your nose along the line of his neck before tilting your head up just enough to catch his eyes and a soft, cheeky smile tugs at your lips. "You literally said I'm a pain in your ass this morning."
Jason snorts. Real, genuine. His chest shakes with it as his hand glides up your back. "Nah, I was just teasin', baby."
He ducks his head a little, lips pressing against your forehead. "You're perfect."
And the way he looks at youâeyes soft and open, the faintest curve of a smile on his lipsâGod, it's like you hung the fucking stars in his sky.
You can't help it. The giggle bubbles right up out of you. And Jason's heart? Shit, it fucking stumbles because this is everything to him. You, soft and smiling in his arms after he's spent himself inside you, still trembling a little but safe, his. He can't get over it. Can't get over you.
The way you trust him with your body, your heart, the way you laugh like that? He's so gone for you it's not even funny. You shift against him, a lazy little scoot that drags your slick skin over his, until you're close enough to reach his lips. And without even thinking, you lean in, pressing soft, sleepy kisses right over that stupidly pretty mouth of his. Just a soft brush at first, barely there.
Jason blinks down at you, eyebrows lifting, mouth twitching at the corners, trying so hard to look unimpressed. That lazy, cocky drawl slips out, rough around the edges.
"Fucked you that good, huh?"
You nod, lips still ghosting over his, and your soft little giggle is muffled against his mouth. You don't even try to deny it, why would you? You know what you sound like. Wrecked, floaty, breathless.
He huffs a soft laugh, shaking his head. "You little shit."
But his hand comes up, big and warm at the back of your head, fingers sliding into your hair and when he pulls you back down, his mouth meets yours in a kiss that's nothing like the teasing.
It's deep. Hot. His lips move slow, but there's nothing soft about it, nothing casual about the way his tongue brushes against yours, slick and hungry, dragging a quiet moan from your throat before he swallows it down His tongue brushes against yours, a smooth, wet glide that makes you shudder all over again and your pussy, traitorous as ever, throbs.
God. You can feel your walls clenching around nothing, raw and slick, a slow, aching pulse right between your legs. You don't even care how sloppy it gets. The wet glide of your lips, the little sounds of your mouths working together, his soft groans when you suck on his tongue, your needy whimpers when he tilts his head and deepens it until you can't even tell where your breath ends and his begins.
You kiss like that for minutes. Long, drawn out, open mouthed kisses that leave you dizzy and boneless in his arms, your legs limp around his waist, your hips squirming without meaning to when his other hand slides down and grips your ass, big palm squeezing hard enough to make you whimper.
Your sweaty skin sticks where you press together, slick thighs half spread over his hips, your chest pressed against his warm, steady heartbeat. You finally break the kiss with a little gasp, your lips tingling, both of you breathing hard like you'd just run a mile instead of making out like horny teenagers on your couch.
You barely manage a soft, breathless, "Love you, Jay."
Jason doesn't even hesitate. He leans in, presses the lightest kiss to the tip of your noseâso fucking soft, like you aren't both a sweaty, fucked out mess on the couchâand murmurs, "Love you too, doll."
You smush your cheek right against his, nuzzling in like some sleepy cat while your arms drape lazily around his shoulders.
"Ready to go clean up?" he asks, voice low, lips brushing your temple.
You let out a pitiful little whine. "Nooo..." you stretch the word out, all soft and pouty, barely moving. "I'm tired..."
Jason lets out a quiet snort. "I'll carry you."
You nuzzle deeper into the curve of his neck like a stubborn little gremlin, mumbling, "Nooo..."
He huffs and smacks your ass with a firm slap that makes you squeak. "We're sticky as fuck, baby."
You pout against his skin, voice all sleepy and dramatic. "Don't care."
Jason scoffs. "Yeah, you absolutely do, pretty girl."
His hand slides up your spine, rubbing slow, soothing circles like that'll make you move somehow.
You let out a soft little huff, your lips still pressed against his jaw, and mumble, "Maybe..."
He shakes his head, biting back a grin. "Alright. Five more minutes, then I'm scoopin' your cute ass up and haulin' you straight into the shower. Yeah?"
You hum against him, all soft and small. "Yeah, okay."
He sits there, holding you close while your body melts against hisâbare skin sticky with sweat and cum, hair damp, your soft little breaths warming his throatâand he feels it again. That quiet, bone deep thud in his chest because sometimes? He still can't believe it.
Can't believe you're this soft with him. This clingy and sweet and trusting, curling up in his arms and rubbing your cheek against his. And he never thought he'd have this, never thought he'd let himself want it in the first place, really. This messy, domestic, heart aching more he'd always told himself wasn't in the cards for a guy like him. But here he is.
Jason Todd. Sitting on a pink ass couch he didn't pick with the prettiest girl he's ever known sprawled on top of him like some warm, sleepy kitten while he rubs your back and breathes you in and feels his chest go all soft and stupid over how fucking much he loves you.
And maybe that shouldn't surprise him after everything. After all the shit he's been throughâdying, for fuck's sake, coming back and crawling his way through hell and heartbreak and fights he never really won. After walking away from Bruce, from everything he thought he was supposed to be.
He really figured he'd be on his own for a good while. Not forever, but long enough that this? A girl who loves him like you do? Who calls him Jay, kisses the tip of his nose like he's worth something, falls asleep half draped over him since the first night you spent together? Yeah, he never fucking thought he'd have that.
Not until you came alongâsoft, stubborn, sweet as hellâand wrecked every single wall he built without even trying. Your stomach picks that moment to let out the loudest, most pathetic growl and Jason huffs a laugh right against your temple.
"Okay," he snorts, pressing a kiss there, "I think that's our cue for cleanin' up, baby."
But you just let out a soft, miserable whine and mumble, "But 'm comfy..." all pitiful, nose still nuzzled into his neck like you've got no bones left in your body.
He chuckles under his breath. "Don't be a brat," he says all fond even as his hand comes down in a playful smack against your ass that makes you squeak.
And before you can protest any more, he's already shifting under you, dragging both of you upright on the couch.
You cling, of course. Arms around his neck, legs around his waist, your soaked pussy pressed right up against his abs as you bury your face against his shoulder with a sleepy little groan. And God, Jason swears under his breath because you're still fucking dripping on him, but does he care? Not even a little.
If anything, his big hands cup your ass even tighter as he stands, hauling you up with him, carrying you around while you're leaking cum down his stomach.
"Jesus, doll," he murmurs with a crooked grin as you hang onto him like a sleepy, clingy little monkey, "you're real committed to this whole limp noodle thing, huh?"
You hum against his neck, arms tightening around him and he huffs, heading straight for the bathroom with you wrapped around him, flipping the light on with his elbow, maneuvering around like he's done it a hundred times before.
When he finally tries to set you down so he can reach for the shower, you just whimper and cling tighter, legs squeezing around his waist.
Jason groans, amused. "You gonna make me wrestle you off, doll?"
Your answer? A sleepy little shake of your head as you smush your face against his neck again.
He lets out a low hum as he waits for the water to warm, shifting just enough to bury his face in your hair, arms full of you, one hand firm under your ass, holding you steady against him. And yeah, maybe he could be a little shit right now. Maybe he should be teasing you for clinging to him, but instead, his other hand just rubs slow circles up and down your back.
Because no matter how much Jason likes to act like he's all gruff and mean, you've got him so fucking soft for you it's honestly embarrassing. You sigh against his neck, nuzzling in, and he just holds you closer.
After a minute, when the steam starts slowly curling up around both of you, Jason reaches out with his free hand and checks the water with his knuckles. Warm enough.
"C'mon, pretty girl," he murmurs, giving your ass a gentle squeeze.
"Okay," you mumble softly.
He sets you down carefully in the shower, hands lingering on your waist as you wobble a little on unsteady legs before stepping in right behind you, arms slipping around you again.
"You okay, baby?" he murmurs against your temple.
"Yeah," you hum, leaning back into him, letting him hold you up.
"How's your throat?"
Your shoulders lift in a tiny shrug. You're still a little floatyâwarm, wrung out, and sore in all the right placesâand you're honestly not even sure how your throat feels right now, but you have to admit that it's kind of sore. And he knows it.
"I'm gonna make you some tea after this, yeah?" he says as his hands smooth over your stomach, big palms rubbing gentle circles over your skin.
You nod sleepily.
"Good girl," he praises under his breath, letting one hand linger on your belly while the other reaches for the body wash, keeping you tucked against him as you stand there, still a little shaky on your feet.
Jason works slow, steady, hands smoothing over your skin with that quiet, unhurried care that always makes your chest ache a little. He starts with your shoulders, massaging soft circles into your skin as he works the body wash into a light lather. Every so often, he dips his head and presses a sweet, warm kiss to your shoulder, your nape, the side of your neck, little soft touches that have your eyes fluttering shut, your muscles going loose under his hands.
"You're so fuckin' good for me," he murmurs, that low voice that's meant just for you.
You make a tiny sound, swaying a little on your feet again and Jason can't help the soft chuckle that rumbles low in his chest when your stomach lets out another grumble.
You squint over your shoulder at him, trying for a glare but ruining it with a wide, sleepy yawn.
He smirks, all soft teasing. "You tryin' to tell me somethin', pretty girl?"
"Shut up," you mumble, leaning back into his chest anyway.
And God, he fucking loves this. He keeps his hands gentle, working over your arms, down your sides, rinsing you off slow. Then he reaches for the shampoo, getting a little in his palm before carefully working it through your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp with this ridiculous, feather light touch that has your knees damn near buckling.
And it hits you again like it always fucking does. For a guy built like a walking brick wall, with hands big enough to snap a man in half, Jason's hands are always so fucking gentle with you. And maybe you should be used to it by now, but you're not, and neither is he.
Because while he washes you, Jason is watching every little twitch of your body against his, every soft sigh you let out, every sleepy little sway and all he can think is fuck.
This life you've built together? The late mornings, the soft kisses, the dumb arguments over who burned the damn toast, the fucking and the sweet aftercare and the way you crawl into his lap like you belong there? He wouldn't trade a goddamn second of it.
You cling to him like you always do, arms around his waist, cheek pressed against his chest while the warm water rinses the last of the soap suds off both your bodies. You press lazy kisses to his skin, right over his heart, and Jason huffs a soft laugh, his hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head.
"Real fuckin' clingy today, huh?" he teases, but he kisses the top of your head anyway.
You hum, nosing at his chest. "Mmhmm."
When the water finally cools, he reaches around you to shut it off, steps out first, grabbing a thick towel off the rack before holding it open. You blink at him, all soft and sleepy, and he smiles.
"C'mere, pretty girl."
You shuffle forward, and the second your feet hit the mat, he's wrapping you up tight, tucking you in like a warm little burrito. Then he grabs another towel, slinging it low around his waist before taking your hand.
You toddle after him, your damp feet making soft sounds against the floor as he leads you back into the bedroom. The big towel swamps your frame, your brows pinched in sleepy little furrows and your lips stuck in a soft pout, and Jason has to bite back a laugh.
God, you look so fucking cute like this. He gives your hand a little squeeze before letting go, walking over to the closet. You plop down on the edge of the bed with a soft huff, the towel still bundled around you while you watch him pull out a pair of panties, some fluffy socks, and one of his old t-shirts, the faded black one you always steal.
He tugs on a pair of boxers, glancing back at you when he turns around just in time to see you sitting there like the sleepiest little thing alive, bundled and pouting, blinking slow like a worn out kitten and his chest fucking squeezes.
He crosses the room, drops down to his knees in front of you, and presses a soft kiss to your knees before he starts unwrapping the towel.
"Stop lookin' at me like that," he mutters, all fake gruff. "You're gonna kill me, doll."
You giggle, kicking your legs a little as he dries you off gently, moving slow like you'll break if he's too rough. Once you're dry, he slips the socks on your feet, smoothing his hands up your calves before standing up again.
"Arms up, baby."
You lift themâbarelyâand he snorts, tugging the oversized shirt down over your head, letting it fall soft and cozy over your body before helping you into the panties.
"Perfect," he says, leaning down to kiss your temple. "Come on, let's feed your gremlin ass."
You trail after him to the kitchen, shuffling your feet, wearing his damn t-shirt like it's armor. And of course, the second you get there, he spins, grabs your hips, and hauls you right up onto the counter.
"Jesus, Jason!" you squeak, grabbing at his shoulders. "Why are you like this?"
He quirks a brow, all smug as he steps in between your legs, hands sliding slow over your bare thighs. "Like what?"
You huff, giving him the best scowl you can muster right now. "Stupid."
His grin pulls wide, and it's pure trouble. "That so?"
And before you can open your mouth to fire back, his hand tips your chin up, his thumb brushing soft over your jaw as he leans in slow, mouth ghosting over yours, just barely there until you let out a tiny, involuntary gasp. That's all it takes.
His mouth slants over yours, hot and hungry. His tongue pushes past your lips, claiming, licking into you like he's got every right and you don't even fucking fight it. You melt, arms sliding up around his shoulders, fingers curling into his hair as he kisses you deep, mouths moving messy against each other, your soft little moans swallowed right up.
You don't even realize how close your bodies are until you feel it. That slow, lazy grind of his hips, his dick getting hard again. You whimper, your thighs squeezing instinctively around his waist when the swollen head of his dick presses against your sore, aching pussy. The fabric drags right over your clit and you whine, trying not to melt on the counter even though you're wrung out and boneless.
"Jayâ" you pant, breaking the kiss, your forehead resting against his.
"What?" he says all innocent, eyes sparkling like the bastard he is.
"You're such a fucking problem," you breathe, trying to glare but failing because your thighs are twitching and your cheeks are flushed.
You open your mouthâready to tell him off, ready with something sharpâbut you don't even get the chance before he bites the tip of your nose. Gentle, but still enough to make you yelp.
"Jason!"
And he's already pulling back, laughing under his breath as he adjusts his half hard dick through his boxers and strolls toward the fridge like nothing happened.
"Now you're just an asshole," you mutter, rubbing your nose with a pout.
"Yep," he tosses over his shoulder, already pulling out leftovers like he didn't just kiss you stupid and grind against your wrecked pussy.
He moves around the kitchen with way too much efficiency for a man who just fucked the soul out of you not half an hour ago. You watch him with your arms crossed over your chest, still sitting on the counter like the world's poutiest little menace, and every time his eyes flick your way, you hold his gaze, giving him your best scowl, but it only makes him huff a laugh under his breath.
He grabs a wooden board from the cabinet, starts piling on slices of ham and a few hunks of that fancy cheese you like. Not that he'd admit it, but he knows the brand by heart now. Cuts up some apples, tosses on a handful of grapes, throws in some sliced cucumber and those mini peppers you always snack on. He digs out your favorite crackers from the back of the cabinet, the ones he may have called "cardboard ass health crap" the first time you bought them, and now he stocks them like it's his personal mission.
While the water heats on the stove, he keeps sneaking glances at youâyour pouty little self, sitting there with your legs swinging, bottom lip jutting out, your damp messy hair falling into your eyes like some pissed off kitten.
God, you're a menace sometimes. Always have been. But you're his menace, so he never complains.
He makes your tea, stirs in the honey and a splash of milk the way you like it, sets it aside to cool and without a word, he crosses back to you. You blink when his arms slide under your thighs and around your back, lifting you right off the counter with ease.
"Babyâ"
"Uh-uh," he hums, pressing a warm kiss right to your forehead. "Don't even start with me, pretty girl."
You go soft in his arms instantly, arms sneaking around his neck as you nuzzle your face into the side of his throat with a little huff. He carries you straight to the couch, sitting you down carefully before snagging the blanket off the backrest and wrapping it snug around your shoulders.
"Stay put," he murmurs, tapping your nose.
And before you can get all bratty again, he's already headed back to the kitchen. Jason comes back with the plate and your tea, settling down beside you. You don't even have to move, he tugs you right up against his side with a little grunt, drapes his arm over your shoulders, and shifts you half into his lap until you're practically blanketed by his big ass body.
"Alright, c'mere," he murmurs, nudging your head to rest on his shoulder. He presses a kiss into your temple, voice dropping low and soft. "C'mon, baby. Drink for me."
You roll your eyes because of course he makes even tea sound like an order, but you lift the mug anyway, sipping slow. The second the warm liquid hits your throat, you melt with a soft, grateful hum.
Jason grins, smug as hell. "Yeah, that's my good girl."
You nudge his side with your elbow, and he chuckles, grabbing a slice of apple from the plate and holding it out for you. You take a bite right from his fingers with a little mhm, chewing happily while he just watches you.
And of course, because he's him, "Y'know," he drawls, casual as can be, "you got real fuckin' loud when I had my finger up your ass earlier."
You nearly choke on your tea. "Jason!"
He snorts, all shameless, watching you sputter as your face goes up in flames. "What? Thought you liked it, baby."
"I didâ" you hiss, swatting at his chest with the hand not holding your mug, "ânow shut the fuck up and feed me."
He snorts again, all teeth and smug grin, and gives your thigh a little squeeze. "Brat."
But he still grabs a cracker, tops it with some cheese and ham, and holds it up for you and you take it happily, chewing with a satisfied little smile like the spoiled girl you are.
By the time an hour rolls by, the board is picked clean, your tea mug is empty on the coffee table, and you're deadweight against his chest, your soft little breaths puffing against his neck while your arms stay tucked tight around his middle.
Jason glances down at you with a quiet little huff, adjusting the blanket so it's snug around your shoulders. You barely even stir, except to nuzzle closer, one leg hitched over his like you're trying to fuse into him. Christ.
He shifts, grabbing the remote with his free hand and flicking through whatever trash is on this lateâsome dumbass reality show with more bleeped out words than actual dialogueâbut his mind is a million miles away.
He groans under his breath, scrubbing a hand over his face as his dick gives a familiar, very inconvenient throb against the soft cotton of his boxers because he can't get the sight of you out of his head: hands gripping the couch like your life depended on it, hips arching back, your voice wrecked and all needy as he fucked you open. The way you'd sobbed his name, begged him not to stop.
He sighs, eyes dropping back down to you.
And you're just... out. Completely gone. Mouth slightly open, already drooling on his chest and somehow, still the cutest fucking thing he's ever seen. His.
Jason scoffs quietly to himself, shaking his head as he sinks a little deeper into the cushions. His dick can wait. He's got you wrapped around him like a sleepy little koala, and he's pretty sure thisâyouâis his happy place and there's no shot in hell he's moving anytime soon.
thinking about the batboys (including bruce bc thatâs dada) brat taming you <3
cw : fem!bratty!reader, aged up characters, rough p in v sex (lots of itâŠ. lots), fucking in the batsuit, everyone here is a mean dom, pet names, spanking, overstimulation, oral (f AND m receiving), fingering, blink & youâll miss it bdsm, multiple creampies, i gave up halfway through, duke is a softie for his girl <3, not proof read!!!, i wrote this in one sitting, im not creative & these got repetitive im sorry
; bruce wayne
youâre rolling your eyes at him for the umpteenth time, so hard they might get stuck that way.
âgo ahead! share your completely incorrect and twisted version of events!â your hand flies up, holding it in his face. âmhm!â
which is brave. very brave of you. because no one talks to batman that way.
his jaw tightens, white lenses of the cowl fixing on you. itâs both intimidating and the exact reaction you wanted⊠and it gets you wet knowing you riled him up successfully.
âcareful,â he growls lowly, that wide bubble of patience he usually has shrinking fast.
but you keep going, droning on and on about how youâre in the right. that this couldnât be your fault. youâre batting your lashes at him, offering up a slimy, fake-ass smile.
before you know it youâre pinned against the batcomputer console, huge arms caging you in, cape large enough to drape around the both of you.
âyou think you can talk to me like that, little girl?â
you donât get the chance to snap a reply. a gloved hand rips your shorts and panties to the side, the last bit of patience he had draining, leaving you on display exactly like you deserved to be.
normally bruce is so meticulous in how he preps you for his cock, but not this time. her sinks in in one brutal thrust.
âyouâre such aâ nghh,â the insult dies as he hits that spongy spot inside you just right, your brattiness turning to nothing but broken moans in real time.
you wonât be cumming until youâve apologized. batman does not tolerate brats; he breaks them.
; dick grayson
dick laughs in your face the second you start giving him attitude.
âaw, feeling a little bratty tonight, huh?â heâs patronizing you and he knows it gets you wet.
you roll your eyes and scoff, holding up a your palm in a talk to the hand gesture.
dick catches your hand mid-air and spins you until youâre pinned against the wall of your apartment. you shouldâve known better, known you didnât have a chance against him, but you often pushed your limits.
no space is left between you now and dick takes that as his opportunity to grind his hard cock against your ass, lips brushing against your neck.
âkeep talking shit. see what happens.â
and you do. running your mouth, wrinkling your nose, the whole nine yards.
bad idea.
he smacks your ass so hard it stings before throwing you over his shoulder.
âyouâre so hot when youâre mad,â youâre set on the bed, bouncing a little on the mattress, and then youâre met with dickâs stupidly handsome smirk. âbut weâll need to fix that attitude.â
you end up tied down at the wrists before he spends a ridiculously long time eating you out, stopping right before you cum every time.
âhm? whatâs that?â he languidly licks at your oversensitive clit. âyou wanna cum?â
youâre whining is met with no remorse, just an infuriating little grin from between your legs.
âthought you were too busy being a brat.â
unlike bruce, dick will fuck you as a reward for your apology. heâll bend you in every position until youâre begging for him to stop.
; jason todd
this is basically foreplay. arguments are usually a result of your brattiness and his temper and it usually ends in hate sex.
heâs significantly less patient than his adoptive brother and father, so arguments donât last too long. youâre rolling your eyes, insulting him, even getting in his face until your nose to nose.
thatâs when he snaps.
âalright, thatâs fucking it,â he grabs you by the throat, cock twitching hard at the little sound you make when he squeezes your sensitive flesh.
doesnât matter if youâre in the safe house, in an alley against his bike, heâs taking you however he wants to.
youâre pushed to your knees and within seconds his cock is shoved down your throat, a guttural groan leaving him.
âthatâs what you fucking get for being such a damn brat,â he bites, but itâs breathless, your fluttering throat enough to make his knees buckle.
your watery eyes and constricting throat around his cock almost makes him cum, but he pulls out before you can get that satisfaction.
youâre then bent over the couch or his bike and heâs yanking your panties down so hard the seams rip.
he lines up and shoves inside you roughly, squeezing your hips hard enough to leave bruises.
âbratty little shit⊠you love pissing me off so iâll fuck the attitude out of you, donât you?â he pounds into you hard, giving your ass a firm smack.
wonât give up until youâve apologized multiple times. heâll go multiple rounds until youâre exhausted.
; tim drake
similarly to bruce, he has lots of patience. you start with your endless attitude and he simply watches you like heâs calculating your every move.
when you least expect it, he bends you over the back of his desk chair and snakes his fingers into your pants, thumbing your clit just enough to relieve the tension but not enough to make you cum.
âlook at you being such a brat. think you can get away with that?â he coos in your ear, fingers teasing your entrance. you buck up into his hand and to your short-lived surprise, he sinks his long fingers into you.
you end up cumming embarrassingly fast. again. and again. and again.
tim edges you for so long, not budging once. youâd never know his arm is tired.
and then finally, he sinks his cock into you.
âsay it again,â he huffs against your ear, rocking his hips up into you. âcall me an asshole. say it while iâm filling you up.â
heâll have you cumming on his cock in minutes.
; aged up! damian wayne
damianâs the most insulted, and turned on, standing there with his arms crossed, baffled youâd speak to him that way.
âtt. how dare you speak to me in such a manner.â he mutters lowly. dangerously.
your condescending tone would make his eye twitch instantly, but his pants unreasonably tight.
when you least expect it, he grips your chin, angling your eyes to meet his intense green ones.
âyou will learn respect, beloved,â
youâre suddenly quiet as he lifts you with sword-calloused hands like you weigh nothing, pressing you against the wall.
youâre already so wet just from giving him attitude he doesnât even bother prepping you. just slides right in, easily.
he spends an obscene amount of time fucking you against the wall, marking up your neck so everyone knows exactly who you belong to when heâs finished with you.
but he doesnât finish there. he canât just let you off after that little stunt you pulled. so he pulls you into his lap, making you ride him while he sits like a king.
âapologize, or i stop.â his naturally commanding tone keeps you babbling apologies pathetically until heâs satisfied.
youâll end up walking funny for days afterward.
; duke thomas
duke is easily the nicest of the batboys and, therefore, the most stunned when you pull out your attitude, eyebrows nearly at his hairline.
heâs the most rational, trying to calmly explain his side of the story while youâre rolling your eyes again.
when he realizes heâs not getting through to you, his expression dims a fraction, turning into something darker. a little unfamiliar, but a welcome change on his pretty face.
âoh⊠you really wanna play like that right now?â his voice drops and your stomach dips, sure that your panties are soaked but now.
before you can sass him back, duke scoops you up in his hold, dropping you onto his full-size bed. he presses up against your backside, hand grasping your chin.
âkeep running that pretty mouth and iâll give you something better to do with it.â
you roll your eyes again, but duke chuckles lowly. âbratty tonight, huh? alright then.â
you donât get a second to protest or talk shit before your panties are yanked to the side, two fingers slipping right into your soaked entrance, curling his digits just right.
âthatâs it⊠take it. all that attitude and youâre still clenching around me like you need this.â
he fingers you until youâre whining and fluttering around his fingers, nearly cumming right when he pulls out.
before you can bitch about how empty you feel without his fingers inside you, itâs quickly replaced by his cock, cutting you off effectively.
duke fucks hard when heâs riled up.
âapologize nicely and maybe iâll let you finish.â
unlike his adoptive family, heâs much nicer. and also a softie for you, so the moment you whimper a soft sorry, he sinks all the way to the hilt and cums inside you.
a/n : might make a pt 2 with the batgirls if yall are into that âŠ.. lmk
price could be an asshole sometimes, he knew it. and you knew it too. he always made you cry during arguments, storming out of your shared place by slamming the door and only coming home the next morning with an apology and some flowers.
you always forgave him, much to his surprise.
but today was different, he had been really mean and price knew that he messed up badly this time. he hated how he could be when angry.
"i forgive you" price eyes looked up to you, a hint of hope in it.
"are ya serious ?" he asked with his rough voice, his heart beating a little faster. he released the breath he didn't even realize he was holding when you nodded yes. you opened your mouth, "one condition" you looked at the floor, "I want to spend one night with lieutnant riley." price cringed at the way you said his name, bliking at you with big incredulous eyes.
"she really said tha' ?" price hated simon's smug smirk, the man visibly flattered by his captain's woman's wish. "who am I to disappoint the missus"
price hated even more watching you and simon have sex, even though he insisted on being here.
your body was smashed against the mattress, the bed hitting the wall as the lieutnant's hips roughly pounded into you. you were enjoying it, john knew by the loud moans that were uncontrollably leaving your mouth. he saw how you tried to hide it at first, probably in order to not make your husband insecure ; however as simon fucked you dumb, you became a moaning and drooling mess.
price clenched his jaw as he watched you both make out, he couldn't help but observe intently how simon's angry cock would thrust in and out of your pink pussy, all slick with the previous orgasms you had.
"gonna cum..." you whimpered pathetically as you shut your eyes, your nails piercing the lieutnant's back. a whimper escaped you as you felt simon's hand come rub your clit to help you climax, the delicious feeling making your toes curl.
after you came, price watched you lay on your shared bed, completely cock drunk. he completely ignored the cocky expression simon had on his face.
"next time don't be a dickhead, captain" price mentally cursed as the lieutnant walked out of the room, enjoying the situation too much for his liking.
simon who fucks his girl toooo good that she ends up biting his hand so nastily and hard that it leaves a deep, bleeding bite mark that he doesnt notice till the morning after
he shrugs it off, a little proud at how strong his lady is. that bite mark that quickly heals, but remains forever scarring his hand. it turns into the only scar he wants to look at. the only scar that makes his chest puff up with confidence when he sees it. a physical reminder of you permanently etched into his skin, that cannot go away even if he prayed it would.
when he's laying in dirt, in some foxhole in the cold and nothing but darkness surrounding him and the twinkling stars above, he'll not be found reading a love letter or gazing at a photograph of you, but instead he will be seen mysteriously concerned with his hand. reminiscing and missing his lovie
âŠBucky Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Read on aO3!âŠ
âŠsummary: you and Bucky get stranded on a mission, and the hotel... well, you know the restâŠ
âŠwarnings/tags: bucky barnes x female!reader, friends to lovers, light emotional angst, everyone's bad at feelings, fluff, smut, big porn level smut (dirty talk, there was only one bed, praise kink, teasing, nipple play, finger sucking, super soldier senses, posessive sex, forced eye contact, dumbification, making out, sensitive reader, perfectly "appropriate" use of bucky's metal arm, bucky gets nasty, body worship, overstimulation, mean!bucky, degradation kink, monster dick bucky, he fucks like a machine), no use of y/n, no descrption of readerâŠ
âŠwc: 7kâŠ
âŠAuthor's Note: request! a true classic for a reasonâŠ
This is the worst thing thatâs ever happened to you.
An hour ago, that worst thing was the rain, pounding down over you and Buckyâs heads, drenching you right down to your bones. Before that was the mission starting late, which meaning it would run late, which meant that you werenât going to be home until almost four in the morning. Before that it was being put on the mission with Bucky. Just Bucky.
Just you and Bucky, in the middle of Norway, alone with about fifteen ex-Hydra scientists. You werenât even supposed to be in the field to begin with. Youâre the nerd, the glasses, the intelligence and books and never the fists, until Walker and Yelena decided they hated you, and put you here.
âI donât know how- How to do field things, or- I canât even shoot a gun-â
âYou will have Bucky Barnes,â Yelena had waved her hand, not looking up from her tablet. âIt will be fine.â
âBut what if itâs not fine,â youâd pleaded. âWhat if thereâs a- A storm, or more people than we thought, or- Or Bucky gets hurt-â
âWho is in charge of Buckyâs health?â Yelena had cut you off with a pointed look, and youâd swallowed.
âIâm not- I wouldnât say in charge-â
âYou make him eat vegetables. That is in charge.â
âI make all of you eat vegetables-â
âYou donât make me eat vegetables,â Walker had muttered, and youâd flipped him off.
âThatâs because I hate you.â
Walker had scowled, Avaâpressed against the wall of the room and clearly trying not to be involved in this conversationâhad snorted, and Yelenaâs mouth had twitched.
âSee,â sheâd given you a winning grin. âYou are a natural leader. You will be fine.â
âI will not be fine-â
Bucky had said your name, and everyone in the room had gone still. Heâd been left out of this meeting. From Yelenaâs wide eyes and Avaâs smirk, it hadnât been hard to work out that it was on purpose.
âWhat isnât going to be fine,â Bucky had muttered, and Walker and Yelena had an exchanged sharp, you do it looks.
Walker had lost the glare off, sighed, and turned to Bucky with a wide, winning grin.
âYouâre taking the scout on her first mission, buddy, congrats- Shit- Hey-â
Bucky had stormed forward, metal hand flexing like he was thinking about wrapping it around Walkerâs throat. Heâd stopped himself, shot you a strange look, and jerked his head.
âOut,â heâd grunted, before pausing and adding, âPlease.â
The please hadnât been necessary. Youâd almost run out the room with a nervous look back, a little worried you were going to come back to a bloodbath. The glass was supposed to be fully soundproof. Youâd still been able to hear muffled, furious shouting.Â
Bucky had stormed out after almost an hour, given you a tight look, strange look, then stomped down the hall. Yelena had given you a thumbs up. Youâdâfoolishlyâhoped that meant you were off the hook.
It hadnât.
Youâd been dropped in Norway with Bucky a week later, an hour after plannedâAlexei wanted to bring his camera, and wouldnât hear anyone tell him noâwith plans to be picked up in the morning.
âStay close,â Bucky had muttered, not meeting your gaze. âAnd donât do anything I wouldnât do.â
Youâd nodded, your voice barely more than a breath. âJames, I- I donât know what youâd do.â
âThen donât do anything.â Heâd snapped.
Youâd shrunken into yourself. You knew he didnât like thisâyou werenât a big fan eitherâbut the bristling, electric anger almost radiating off of him, it wasnât anything you were used to. Bucky was usually kind to you. He opened your doors and brought you muffins from the bakery down the street. You made him watch movies when he couldnât sleep, and he asked you questions about pop culture when he was confused. You had a goodâconfusing, but goodârelationship.
Yelena likes to tease that he like likes you. You try to punch her in the face, and always miss. He doesnât. He couldnât. Heâs Bucky Barnes, and youâre a dork with a computer that heâs nice to because heâs a good man.
A kind, handsome, perfect man with a jawline youâd kill to kiss and hands youâd die to hold. A man who remembers your birthday when you sometimes forget, and knows your coffee order, and lets you push him around even thought he could crush you with a single hand. Youâd like him to crush you with that hand. Maybe pin you down with it and split you open and kiss you with those soft lips that always ghost with a smile at your stupid jokes.
You never shouldâve told Yelena about your tiny, little, totally manageable crush on him to begin with. Itâs going to be the death of you. Youâre sort of starting to worry that this was Yelenaâs grand plan to finally make you talk to him. If it was, youâre actually going to kill her, or hire someone who can.
Because it started raining. And after it started raining, lightning cracked through the sky, and thunder followed, and you and Bucky got slowed down. Slowed down enough thatâcombined with the weather conditionsâAlexei couldnât come pick you up. And you had to find a hotel in Norway.
And the only room left had one bed.
And youâre going to jump off the balcony and pray that Bucky doesnât catch you.
âYou should take a shower,â he mutters, tossing your bag onto the couch. âIâll go find some extra clothing.â
You nod, pulling at the sleeves of your drenched shirt. âI- I can take the couch-â
âNo.â
You sigh. âBucky-â
âIâm on the couch,â he shoots you a stern look, bracing his hands on his hips. âAnd youâre on the bed.â
You swallow, and nod. Arguing with him right now doesnât seem productive. Youâre lucky heâs still talking to you after the mission.
It didnât go poorly. In fact, given everything, it actually went better than you couldâve hoped for. But Bucky is still looking at you like youâre a problem, and itâs making you sort of sick. You donât want to be something extra that weighs on his shoulders. Donât want to be an extra layer of ice, pressing down on his chest when heâs already the one keeping you both together. Itâs already cold enough as it is.
You shower. Bucky finds clothingâan oversized, thin fabriced shirt that just drapes past your thighsâand follows after you. Neither of you say much, and you try not to let the silence feel like poison, but itâs hard. Heâs never been quiet with you this long, but youâve also never been in this kind of situation with him before.
âAlexei will get us in the morning,â he mutters, stepping out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around his waist. âThen weâll get you home.â
âOh- Okay.â You flush, staring down at your hands. His chest is broad, and bare, and warm looking. The rivers of scars over his shoulder and pecs look like theyâd be easy to map, and the dip of his towel show off the strength of his stomach. Thick and muscled, soft in all the right places, probably easy to wrap yourself in, and-
Bucky mutters you name, and youâd stopped staring at your hands without thinking. You clear your throat and slide into the bed, grabbing your phone with shaking fingers and pretending to be deeply invested in the blank lock screen. In your periphery, Bucky doesnât move for a long moment. You dare to look at him under your lashes, and find him staring back.
âBucky?â You ask softly, and Buckyâs throat bobs. âAre you-â
âYou did good,â he grunts, and you blink, heat rushing between your thighs.
âI- I did good?â
He nods tightly. âToday. You did good.â
âOh.â You swallow, unable to break his gaze. âI- I didnât do much-â
âYou got me through the lab. You listened.â
âAnyone can listen, James.â
Buckyâs jaw twitches, and he huffs something close to a laugh. âYouâd be surprised,â he mutters, grabbing his warm clothing off the arm of the couch. âAnd donât sell yourself short, doll. You listen real well.â
Your mouth falls open, and you think you might be frozen in place. Bucky retreats back to the bathroom, and youâre not even sure what to do with yourself. Youâre sure he didnât mean it like that, but god, it wouldâve been nice if he did. Your head certainly takes the thoughts and runs with them. Bucky over you in this same bed, that metal hand pressed against your stomach, cooed praise and light orders of take it and make some noise for me, doll. The gleam in his eyes when youâd listen, the way heâd feel buried inside of you, the burn of blue eyes as heâd watch you come apart, driving into your cunt over and over and over-
âNight,â Bucky grunts, and you blink at him through the dark.
âNight,â you breathe back, and for a second, you just stare at each other.
Buckyâs gaze softens slightly. You could swear is does. And maybe itâs just a trick of the light, but his gaze drags down the fabric of your sleep shirt, catching on your bare thighs and spread legs. His tongue darts over his lips, and you press your thighs together, shifting nervously on the mattress.
He looks back up to you, jaw working tight.Â
âNight,â he mutters again, and you swallow.
He goes for the light, and you glance at the couch. Itâs small. More of a sectional than a functional piece of comfort. Â
âBucky?â You say, before you can think better of it. âDo you- Do you want to sleep in the bed.â
Bucky freezes, his hand on the light switch. You swallow, pulling the sheets higher up your body, and Bucky mutters your name. âYou donât have to-â
âAre you going to be able to sleep on the couch?â You whisper, and his jaw ticks again.
âThatâs not your shit to worry about-â
âAlexeiâs going to talk the whole ride home,â you push, and his throat bobs. âAnd you- You get really grumpy when you donât sleep.â
Bucky chuckles. âI get grumpy, huh.â
You nod, and he sighs. His hand curls into a fist, and for a second, youâre sure heâs going to tell you no.
âI- I really donât mind-âÂ
âAlright,â he cuts you off, words short and clipped. âYou win.â
You blink, and try not to smile when he hits the lights. The streetlamps outside let you see his figure, walking over to the bed. You force yourself not to hold your breath, and lie down like everything is perfectly normal.
The mattress dips. Bucky lies flat and stiff on his back, slowly pulling the sheets over his body, and you turn away, trying to hide the flush blooming over your face.
This was a mistake. Thatâs clear now. You adore him too much, and you wanted to help, and it made you forget about the actual consequences of Bucky being right there, next to you, wearing only sweats and emitting heat like a furnace. The bed feels smaller than it did a moment ago, but that might just be the size of him. Your fingers brush, and his hand jerks away like he thinks youâre going to burn. You twist further over, pulling the blankets with you.
âYouâre hogging,â Bucky grunts, and you pull your knees a little into your chest.
âSorry,â you mumble, trying to loosen your grip. âJust- Cold.â
Itâs not cold. It was, before he climbed in next to you. Now itâs impossibly humid, like youâve been dropped in to a hot spring. Bucky sighs, and doesnât take the slack of the sheets you offered. You shift in the bed, trying to make yourself smaller, trying to offer him more space.
The minutes crawl past you. Itâs been an exhausting day, but youâve never been more awake. Youâre worried he can hear your heartbeat. Youâre worried he can smell the arousal, pooling between your thighs whenever your feet brush. Youâre almost curled fully into a ball, the sheet wrapped around you like a cocoon. A restless, anxious pill bug of a cocoon, trying to find a spot on the bed where youâre not painfully aware of Buckyâs presence.
His hands, brushing near your spine when you roll the wrong direction. The steady sound of his breath, that should be calming but only works you up more and more. The line of his jaw when you risk a look, and the flutter of his lashes as he stares at the ceiling. At least heâs not sleeping either. You can be grumpy together, in the morning.
âYouâre movinâ too much,â Bucky grunts, and youâre flushing so deeply youâre worried youâre going to light on fire.
âSorry,â you breathe, and he sighs.
ââS fine.â
You think he might just give up and go back to the couch, but he doesnât. You consider taking the couch yourself, but youâre stubborn. You asked him to do this, and if you try to go to the couch, Bucky will just throw you back to bed and take the couch himself.
Thatâs a nice idea. Strong arms wrapped around you, manhandling you, folding you over and tossing you wherever he pleases like a fuckdoll.
You risk another look, and almost whimper.
Heâs staring at you in the dark, that strange, hooded look gleaming in his eyes. Your heart pushes into your throat, and your fingers dig into your hips as you hold yourself. Neither of you seem to be able to think of anything to say. Bucky licks his lips again, his eyes darting down to the arch of your neck, and your breath catches. The air seems to be pressing over your skin like a shroud. Youâre not sure what to do with yourself but try to breathe.
This must be a dream. Bucky wouldnât look at you like that during the day. And if it isnât a dream, he probably doesnât mean it the way your sleepy, addled brain thinks. Heâs always had the same effect on you as a strong drink. Making you a little loose-lipped and foolish and delusional. Thereâs a reason you donât go out with him. Youâre not trying to ruin the good, steady friendship youâve had for so long.
âIâm sorry you got stuck with me,â you whisper, and Bucky frowns.
âStuck with you?â
âOn- On the mission.â
His frown deepens. âIâm not stuck with you, thatâs-â
He cuts himself off, rolling onto his back with a groan. He runs a hand over his face, and you swallow, pushing up a little to hold his gaze.
âItâs okay, I- I get it-â
âI wasnât stuck with you,â he cuts you off, tone surprisingly stern. âI mighta been- Harsh,â he lets out a sharp breath, shaking his head. âBut listen to me, Iâm never- I like havinâ you around, alright? Never stuck with you.â
âBut-â
âYou matter,â he grunts, staring firmly up at the ceiling. âI donât like this âcause you- Youâre not supposed to be in these kinda situations, doll. Thatâs it. Donât think itâs anything else.â
âOh- Okay.â You whisper, and Buckyâs eyes dart to yours.
âGot it?â
You nod, and he sighs, looking back to the ceiling. His arms are still crossed, and he doesnât look cold, but just lying there without blankets, it canât be comfortable.
âBucky?â You say softly, and he grunts. âDo you want the blankets?â
âIâm good-â
âWe could share,â you add quickly, and he shoots you an amused look.
âI tried to share. Youâre the one who kept yankinâ them away from me.â
You flush, wrinkling your nose. âTheyâre small-â
âThey fit the mattress. Should fit two people.â
âWell, they didnât think one of those people would be you.â
Bucky raises his brows, and your eyes widen.
âI- I just mean- You- Youâre very big, and- Iâm smaller- The sheets are smaller, and youâre big-â
âSaid Iâm big already,â he drawls, and youâre going to smack him.
âWell, you are,â you snap, yanking the sheets fully around you. âAnd now Iâm not sharing. Because youâre being a butt.â
You flip over, burying your face in a pillow when Bucky laughs. Itâs a low, deep sound that rolls through your body, almost making you dizzy. You feel the mattress shift behind you, and curl further into yourself.
âYour heart is racing,â he mutters, low and rough, and youâre sure youâre dreaming now.
âYour heart is racing.â
Bucky chuckles again. Thatâs a dangerous sound. He shouldnât be allowed to make it.
âYouâre beinâ bratty tonight,â he murmurs, a large, light hand tracing over the curve of your hips. âItâs cute.â
You want to roll over and hit him or something. Itâs not fair to do that. Not right now, not to you. âJamesâŠâ You whisper, and he hums.
âLove when say my name like that,â he toys with your hair between, and you bite back a moan. âYou know youâre the only one I let say it, right? Only one who could get away with damn near anything âround me.â
You make a disgruntled, confused little sound thatâs a mix between a moan and whine. Youâre really not sure what the fuck is happening, but youâre terrified to ruin it. To move wrong and break from the dream.
âBut Christ, doll,â Bucky wraps his hand slowly around the back of your neck, and you canât stop yourself from leaning back into the touch. âIâm tryinâ real hard to be gentleman, and youâre not making it easy.â
His thumb drags over the base of your hairline, and the mattress dips again. Your breathing becomes shallow, as Bucky leans down. His lips brush near your ear, and you whimper, clinging onto the sheets for dear life.
âI can smell you,â he says, and youâd like the mattress to just swallow you whole. âCan smell how you get fuckinâ wet looking at me, how you gush whenever I touch you,â he squeezes that back of your neck gently. âTell me to back off. Before I do something real stupid and selfish.â
You roll over slowly, and try not to moan at just the sight of him. Hanging over you in the dark, broad shoulders and parted lips, staring at you like he wants to eat you alive.
âSelfish?â You manage to breathe, reaching up to rest your hand, flat against his burning chest. âJames, youâre not-â
âDonât.â He catches your wrist, but doesnât push you away. âI want you all to myself. Iâd call that selfish.â
You shake your head, your heart pounding your ears. Your nails scrape over his skin, and his whole body almost shudders with restraint. He mutters your name, cupping your cheek, his thumb dragging against your lower lip.Â
âPlease,â he rasps. âDonât look at me like that, doll, câmon-â
âWhat if I want you to look at me like that,â you whisper, and Buckyâs fingers flex against your jaw. âWhat- What if I want you too.â
Buckyâs gaze drops back to your lips. His tongue flicks out again, and when he looks at you, you can feel the desperation, tight as a wire between your bodies, begging to be snapped.
Youâre not a brave person. You have never been. But under his attention, you feel like you could do anything. You drag your hand over his shoulders, and he shudders. You hold him, trembling with anticipation, and tug him down. He lets you, lowering until your lips are just brushing, his eyes lidded and features blown out.
âYou sure?â He mutters, letting out a sharp breath when you nod. âIâm not- One night ainât gonna be enough-â
âGood,â you whisper, and Bucky groans, fully dropping his brow. âBucky- Please-â
Bucky kisses you, and youâve dedicated countless hours to dreaming of this moment. Youâve played it out in a million scenarios, a million different ways, with a million different results. You never dared let yourself think that the reality would be better than the dream, and yet youâre here. And Buckyâs kissing you, and you didnât know anything could feel so good.
Heâs slow. Almost cautious, like heâs trying to test the waters of just how much heâs allowed to take. His lips are chapped and warm, working softly against yours, lighting a little fire with every single, teasing kiss. His tongue brushes over your low lip and you suck in a sharp breath. Bucky hums, pressing a little further down, caging you beneath the mass of his body, trapping you beneath him.
Youâre exactly where you want to be. You open your mouth when his tongue presses on your lower lip, tugging gently on his hair to coax him on. He moans down your throat, weaving his fingers into your hair and tugging ever so lightly back. You let him guide you, clinging to his shoulders, getting swept away in the mass of him, the feeling of having him everywhere. His free hand drags down to caress your side, and you arch into the touch with a soft, uncontrolled sound.
Bucky groans, and his kiss gets sloppier. His movements become shorter, his lips demanding against yours. Youâre already out of breath, but you donât dare to push him away. Youâll let him kiss you like this until your head is spinning, until you pass out from the pleasurable, burning ache of his kisses and touches.
âJesus,â Bucky mutters against your lips, kissing between every word as if he canât stop himself. âYouâre so fuckinâ soft for me, doll, so sweet and easy.â
You whine and Bucky chuckles, kissing you deep and long and so torturously slow. His hand drags further down, tugging the hem of your shirt up. Your legs spread mindlessly, all the thoughts in your head being sucked away by Buckyâs kisses. Cool, metal fingers drag up your sensitive thigh, and you gasp, whole body shivering under the touch.
âYou like that, huh,â Bucky kisses one corner of your mouth, then the other. âTryinâ to take it nice and slow, but youâre already begging for a little, more. Look at you,â he kisses up your cheek, over your jaw. âGonna take real good care of you, doll. Make it feel real good for my pretty, needy girl.â
Words are already failing you, and youâre getting a little worried for what kind of boneless, fuckdoll puppet youâre going to be when heâs done with you. Itâs an electric, hopeful fear. You hope you can feel him when you sit down tomorrow. You hope you canât walk straight for a fucking week.
Bucky kisses over your nose, then your neglected cheek, and down your jaw. His teeth graze against you, his hand in your hair angling you around so he can suck little bruises right under your jaw. Those thick, metal fingers are still teasing along the inseam over your panties, and when his thumb brushes against the embarrassingly wet spot against your core, he groans against your skin.
âSo wet,â he mutters, kissing over the sore mark under your jaw, then attaching his lips near your pulse point. âAll for me, isnât it? Thinkinâ about me fucking you, nice and slow.â
His tongue flicks against your throat, and you make a borderline pathetic noise.
âBu- Bucky-â You cry out, wrapping your arms fully around his neck. âJust for you- Only for you- Please-â
Bucky groans, pushing his face further into your neck. His thumb drags back against your clothed slit, teasing the lightest amount of pleasure until youâre clenching around nothing.
âMore,â you try to demand, but itâs breathy and broken. âJames, I- I need more-â
You roll your hips up, and Buckyâs thumb bumps right up against your clit. Your thighs try to push together and hold him there, but he grabs them forcing them back open and pushing his knee right against your core.
âDemanding,â he presses a quick kiss to your lips then pushes back up, tracing his thumb over the curve of your swollen bottom lip. âYou wanna try that one again?â
You swallow and shake your head, trying to push him just a little, just to test what will happen. Buckyâs jaw ticks. He pushes his knee further forward against your cunt, and you cry out, rolling your hips to chase a little extra friction. Bucky lets you, his thumb pushing a little further into your mouth.
He groans when you take him, swirling your tongue and sucking as the need between your thighs builds impossibly high. He keeps hitting against your clit, but not with nearly enough pressure, and heâs planted against your fluttering cunt, but you need him in you. You need to not be able to think, outside of Bucky all around you. If you were stronger, youâd try to pull him back down, but youâre not. Youâre a messy, fluttering mess beneath him, unable to remember how cold it was moments ago as you suck on his thumb like a whore.
Bucky presses on your abdomen, pushing you deeper into the mattress, and you grab his wrist. You give him your best, watering, pathetic eyes. You need more of him the same way you need oxygen. His knee isnât enough, no amount of him is enough. If you donât get to drown in the pine scent and massive strength of him, you might start actually screaming.
âLook at you,â Bucky mutters, leaning over your body with a smirk. âSo pretty like this, doll. Could drive a man fuckinâ crazy.â
You whimper, eyes dropping to his crotch. To the thick, massive tent pressing against his sweats, and the slightly dark spot against the gray fabric. You moan around his thumb, and watch it twitch slightly. Bucky groans, leaning further down so the head of his cock drags against your soft thigh. He pulls his thumb away, smearing a line of spit over your cheek, then ducks down and lick it away. You moan, turning your face to try and meet his lips, and he chuckles.
âThatâs right,â he mutters, indulging you with a slow, gentle kiss. âI know what you need, baby. Iâve got you.â
You hum, eyes fluttering closed and Bucky goes back to kissing you like youâre something priceless. Youâre still fucking yourself on his knee, the feeling spreading like a warm, rising tide through your body. Bucky hums, his now free hand slowly dragging under your shirt. Teasing up your side, under your breast, then pinching your nipple between two fingers and rolling it in tight, fast circles.
He swallows the cry that leaves your lips, flicking your nipple before soothing the hurt with his thumb.
âEasy,â he mutters. âNice and easy. Letâs get you ready, huh?â
You nod, thinking back to that tent in Buckyâs pants. Youâre going to need to be ready to take that. And whatever he has to do to get you there, youâre more than willing to let him.
Bucky pulls back up and slowly guides your t-shirt over your head, tossing it off to the side and helping you settle back into the mattress. A low groan rumbles through his chest as his eyes rake over your body, and your arms instinctively go up to cover yourself from the unrelenting, almost feral gaze.
He catches your wrist and pins it over your head, giving you a stern, knowing look.
âDonât hide,â he scolds, his metal hand slowly trailing down your exposed body. âMost gorgeous fuckinâ girl Iâve ever seen, trying to hide her pretty little body from me.â He grabs your waist, squeezing the soft skin before massaging it, holding your gaze the whole time. âBeen driving me made for years, baby. Thinking you were right there and Iâd never get to have you like this.â He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. âTorture. Goddamn torture.â
Your mouth is hanging open, your breaths coming out in short helpless pants. Youâre not even really sure what to do with yourself but lay there, and youâd feel worse about that if it didnât seem to be exactly what Bucky wanted as well.
âThought about just fuckinâ- Living with my face here,â he palms at your breast, the cold of his metal hand a sharp contrast to the fire, brimming under every inch of your skin. âMarking those up until the whole world knew that you were mine. My needy little slut.â
You whimper, and Buckyâs lips twitch.
âYeah, I know you like that,â he flicks your nipple, watching with dangerous attention as your body seizes up. âAlways could smell you gettinâ wet when Iâd tell you what to do. Drove me out of my mind, you got no idea.â
You think youâve got some idea. His grip on your hands is tight like heâs trying to fuse your bodies together, and his every muscle is rippling with restraint. You let out a low, soft whine of his name, and Bucky makes that deep, hungry sound again.
âThis pussy,â he mutters, dragging his hands back down your body, cupping your pussy and grinding the palm of his hand against your clit. âItâs mine, isnât it, doll.â
âYe- Yes,â you whisper. âItâs yours, James- Please.â
Bucky grins, hooking two metal fingers around the ruined fabric, knuckles bumping against your needy pussy, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. âDamn right it is.â
He rips your underwear off in one motion, and you donât even get a second to adjust to the feeling before Buckyâs shoving his ring finger straight into your cunt, pressing his thumb down over your sensitive clit. You make an embarrassingly loud sound, almost bucking off the bed, but the metal hand is impossibly strong. He pushes you back down, crooking his finger deep inside of you, and laughs when your eyes roll back in your head.
âCome on, doll. Eyes on me,â he pumps his finger once, twice, the slaps your sensitive cunt before shoving his hand back in. âEyes on me.â
You force your eyes to open back up, locking onto his as you try to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. Itâs just one finger. One thick, massive, metal finger that you can feel straight through your core and to your toes. The cold makes every sensation starker. Buckyâs forced eye contact makes you feel raw and exposed, like a meal heâs about to savor.
âGood girl,â he coos, pulling that finger almost fully out, swirling his thumb around your clit, and pushing it back in.
âBuckyyyy-â You moan, lashes fluttering as he bumps right against that gooey spot deep inside of you. âDonât- Donât tease-â
âIâm not teasinâ,â he leans over you, his hand picking up the pace. âKeep those pretty eyes on me, baby. You can do it.â
You try. God you try. Bucky fucks his finger into you like a machine, reangling his hand so the metal palm is slapping against your clit, working you open more and more and more until youâre whimpering and unravelling beneath him. Itâs so overwhelming, youâre almost forgetting to breathe. You strain against his hold on your hands, but itâs hopeless, and you just end up wiggling below him, tits bouncing in his face.
Bucky groans at the sight of you, his hips jerking and cock dragging against your sensitive inner thigh, but he doesnât slow down or offer you another kiss. He just keeps you pinned beneath him, drawling out praise and mocking words, shoving in a second finger when the first starts to slip in and out too easy.
âGreedy fuckinâ pussy,â he rasps, eyes burning against yours. âBet my cock is gonna slide right in, doll. Made to take me like the pretty slut you are.â
You moan again, every last bit of dignity slipping through your trapped fingers. The eye contact makes it too intense, and the second finger is bullying you open just right, offering a little extra pressure against your sensitive g-spot. Buckyâs eyes flash, when a tiny, hitched noise leaves your throat, and presses down harder.
âThatâs it, isnât it,â he mutters, watching every twitch of your face, every flutter of your wet lashes like some kind of incubus sex-hawk. âThereâs the spot, baby. Feels so good, I know you want to cum.â
You whimper, nodding desperately. Bucky grinds his hard palm against your over-stimulated clit, and your think youâre going to explode.
âItâs alright, babydoll,â he coos. âLet go.â
Your orgasm snaps through you like a rocket, ripping every nerve of your body and making your vision go white. You thrash and scream as you pussy gushes and clenches, your eyes still unable to leave Buckyâs. His jaw is hanging open, his face lust-drunk and predatory, and it just makes your orgasm crest higher. You think he could shove his whole arm in you and youâd be able to take it, with how heâs unraveled.
If the size of his cock in his pants is any indication of whatâs coming. Thatâs for far better than worse.
Youâre trembling when you come down, tears streaming down your cheek and broken mewls escaping your lips. Bucky leans down slowly, kissing your cheek, then your closed eyes, then your open mouth.
âYouâre doinâ so well, baby,â he murmurs, letting your wrist go so he can cup your jaw. âGonna fuck you so good, my sweet girl.â
You make a pathetic, eager sound, and Buckyâs faint smile ghosts over your lips. He leans back up, his thumb dragging against a hickey he left on your neck, and his shoulders shake.
âNo idea,â he mutters. âNo fuckinâ clue what you do to me.â
He pulls a little further back, tugging down his sweats, and you squeak at the sight of him. You didnât think dicks could actually look like that without steroids or surgery or something. Thick and veiny, a good amount of hair cropped around heavy balls, his thick, angry head twitching as he fists himself and drags his thumb over his slit.
You look up at him, almost drooling. âYou- Youâre-â
âBig?â He teases, and you try to scowl, but itâs more of a pout.
âShut up,â you whine, and he laughs, crawling slowly over your limp body.
âYes, maâam.â
Bucky leans down, kissing you like youâre not both sex-addled, ruined wrecks of people. Itâs the kiss you imagined when he would be a knight, and youâd be a princess, and heâd sweep you off your feet in your dreams. Slow and loving, more of an oath than an act of need. Trying to say things neither of you know how to articulate with words. You reach up, cradling Buckyâs face between your hands, and he lets out a shuddering breath, muttering your name.
âIâm not gonna be gentle,â he warns, and you smile against his lips.
âYay.â
Bucky rolls his eyes, but kisses you again, holding onto that soft, honey-sweet moment. His cock rubs between the lips of your pussy, and your breath catches.
âYouâre so big,â you whisper, and itâs not a joke anymore. Heâs nudging against your entrance, and a sting is already building back up behind your eyes.Â
âI know,â Bucky mutters, kissing away your tears. âBut you can take it, doll. Know you can.â
You nod, letting Bucky kiss you into the mattress. Heâs holding you down with the weight of his hips, stopping you from squirming or crawling away as he nudges in the first inch.
âFuuuuck,â he groans. âSo tight, doll, shit-â
Another inch, and youâre struggling for air. The stretch burns in the best possible way, making your head spin and your mouth hang, agape and useless. Bucky kisses your open lips like he canât help himself, and you can feel his control already slipping as he groans, pushing a little more inside.
His thumb fumbles to find your clit, rubbing tight circles, easing you further and further open. Bucky moans when he bottoms out, his whole body tensed as he tries to hold himself still, giving you time to adjust.
Your eyes cross, and your toes curl, and slowly the pain shifts into a warm, desperate pleasure.
âBu- Bucky-â You whisper, scratching at his back. âMove, please.â
He grunts, and pulls his hips fully out before driving them slowly back in. You moan, and he grabs your jaw, forcing his mouth back over yours.
âFeel so fuckinâ good,â he grunts against your lips, repeating the long, torturous motion. âSweet fuckinâ doll, gonna milk this cock, arenât you. Let me fuck you however I want.â
You mewl and nod, a molten puddle in Buckyâs arms. The sheets are long tossed to the ground, so you grab his bicep, blinking up at him with needy, pathetic doe eyes. Bucky groans, his pace picking up slightly.
âThatâs right,â he grunts, finding an angle that makes him bully your g-spot, a rhythm that pushes broken moans out of your throat. âSo sensitive, gorgeous when you cry for me, shit-â
Bucky groans, pressing down to kiss you, all bruising force and spit. You let him, unable to think outside of the consuming way heâs around you, the brutal split of his cock inside your abused pussy.
Heâs fucking you so that the bed creaks, so that everything feels floaty and light and impossibly good. His abdomen presses against your clit and his dick hits every good spot inside of you, rearranging your guts and turning you into pure putty. Itâs embarrassing, how quickly youâre getting to the edge again. Bucky notices, and doubles down, slamming his hips down just a little harder.
âLike that, baby?â He grunts, watching your slack, cockdrunk expression. âLike beinâ fucked like this? Wanna soak my cock, show me how fuckinâ good it feels?â
You nod, another wrecked noise escaping your throat. Bucky snakes his metal hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit in small, tight circles.
âAgain, doll, cum on this dick,â he spanks your clit, then goes back to the circle. âCum for me-â
You shatter with a cry of Buckyâs name, pussy clenching and fluttering, body arching off the mattress. Bucky groans and doubles over, pressing his face between your breasts and mouthing at them like an animal. Your hands shoot into his hair as you try to hold onto something, your orgasm just cresting higher and higher as Bucky keeps fucking into you. You can feel his cock pulsing inside of you, his shallow thrusts desperate and uncontrolled, his moans vibrating against your skin and making your whole body twitch.
âBu- Bucky-â You sob with pleasure, pressing his face further into your body. âFuck- James- Oh my god-â
Your orgasm doesnât seem to be settling. It just builds higher and higher as Bucky keeps fucking into you, desperate and rough. You rock beneath him, overstimulated and dazed, and his wraps his mouth around your nipple, sucking hard as his thrusts start to get jagged.
You pet his head with trembling fingers, gasping every word with a hoarse voice. âCome on, James, pleaseee-â
Bucky moans your name, and crashes back up to your lips as he slams home, and cums deep inside your cunt.
Thereâs so much of him. He kisses you with tongue and long moans, and youâre barely even able to return the affection as he empties himself into your warm cunt. You can feel him in your throat, in the tips of your fingers, almost bursting out of your tummy and seeping through your pussy lips. Bucky fucks you through his orgasm, slower and slower with every thrust, panting against your lips. You clench around him and he buries himself back in with a grunt, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you up into his lap.
You kiss his slowly, everything a little bit of a haze as you finally float back down from your long orgasm. Bucky kisses all over your face as the last of him spills inside of you, then presses his face against your neck, letting out a shaky breath.
His tongue flicks against another one of those bruises he left, and you shiver.
âSorry,â he mumbles, and you hum, leaning your cheek against the side of his head.
ââS okay.â
Bucky sighs, leaning back to meet your hooded, starry eyes. Youâve never been so exhausted, but fuck, you donât care. Youâve also never felt so close to someone. To Bucky. You never want to let go.
âThatâs gonna hurt in the morning,â he mutters, and youâre not even sure which part heâs talking about, but it doesnât matter, so you just shrug.
âWorth it.â
Bucky swallows, glancing down at your lips. Like heâs suddenly not allowed to just kiss you.
You lean forward for him, and he immediately melts over you. You smile into the kiss, curling into his chest, and he lets out a low, rough groan. You should probably get off the bed soon. Neither of you are going to be able to sleep in it now. But you really donât care. If you could, youâd just stay here forever.
Bucky leans back, tracing his thumb over the corner of your mouth. Heâs looking at you like youâre a dream. You hope he thinks youâre looking at him the same way.
âMight be a little late,â he rasps. âBut can I get you dinner?â
You giggle, and nod. Buckyâs shoulders sag.
âThank god,â he mutters, leaning back in for another kiss. âGot no idea how long Iâve wanted to do this, doll. Really.â
You hum, and just kiss him back. Youâll show him that you know exactly how long later, because youâve been waiting even longer. For now, you just let him kiss you. Youâre going to have all the time in the world, to ruin other beds. You donât want to waste a single second of his heat and ease in this one. Finally, in Buckyâs arms.
âŠEnd note: it can't believe i've never done this trope before it's amazing i love it hereâŠ
âŠIf you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3âŠ
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Tags: Bucky Barnes/Female Reader, shameless smut (blowjobs, fingering, p in v sex), light angst, tooth-rotting fluff, no use of y/n, pre-established relationship
Summary: Bucky gets home late, and you take care of each other.
Author's Note: Your honor, I need him to hold me so bad.
Word Count: 3.3k
Heâs home late. No later than usual, but late all the same. For about three hours, the only light in your apartment has been coming from the TV. For even longer, youâve been doing all but nothing, shuffling around and picking things up, glancing at the door in the hopes that it will open, and Bucky will walk through.Â
You know heâs never gone longer than he has to be. He tells you all the time, that heâd always rather be home with you than anywhere else.
It doesnât stop you missing him. From bunching up the blankets until theyâre in a Bucky-Shape, using his body wash and wearing his shirt to pretend heâs a little closer than reality.Â
But he always does come home. Past midnight, but home.
And youâre always waiting up for him, no matter how many times he tells you not to.Â
Bucky calls your name as he opens the door, and you can hear his exhaustion in his voice.
âIn the living room!â You call back, and he groans.
âYou should be in bed, doll-â
âThen whyâd you call for me?â
Thereâs a brief silence, and you can picture his adorable, grumpy frown. âShut it. Itâs almost one in the morning-â
âYouâre up.â
He sighs, moving around somewhere down the hallway. ââM sorry, sweetheart, we had to run the debrief-â
âI know, Buck. Itâs okay,â you call back, glancing to the doorway. âYou need stitches?â
âNo.â He materialize from the dark, shuffling across the room and flopping over your body, his words muffled as he presses his face into your chest. âAlready had âem.â
You scowl, slapping his back lightly. âThatâs not funny, James-â
âItâs funny.â His arms wrap around you, not moving from where heâs sprawled over your body. âWhatâre we watchinâ.â
âThe news.â
He groans. âThatâs so fuckinâ boring-â
You shrug, letting your fingers glide up to play with his hair. âI wanted to know if you were safe.â
Bucky pauses, turning his head to give you a sad, open look. Itâs an expression he only reserves for you. Where youâre allowed to see all the heavy weight on his shoulders, the adoration he has for you pained on every feature, and the gaze of a tired man that never feels like heâs doing enough.Â
He always is.
But no matter how many times you tell him that, he doesnât believe it. Youâll keep saying it until he does. Just like heâll keep trying to alleviate your fears until you stop worrying.Â
âYou know I always come back to you, doll.â He murmurs, taking his hand in yours, and you give him a small smile.Â
âI do.â You cup his face, keeping your words soft. âBut I love you, James. Iâm going to keep worrying.â
He sighs. âCanât talk you into goinâ to bed, can I?â
âMaybe you can.â You shrug. âAre you going to bed with me?â
Bucky opens his mouth and you slam a hand over it.
âI- Sorry- Did you eat.â
He raises his brows, but shakes his head and you sigh.Â
âJames-â
âI was trying to get back to my best girl.â He grumbles, prying your hand away. âWeâll do pancakes in the morning-â
âOr you can have the Chinese I got you, now.â
Bucky blinks at you. âYou got me Chinese?â
You nod, and try to push to your feet. âLemme go- Bucky-â
Heâs on his feet faster than you ever could be, keeping you pinned to the couch as he leans down and presses a deep, slow kiss over your lips. You melt into the cushion, your hands darting up to hold his face, and he smiles against your lips.Â
âIâll get it, babydoll.â He mutters, pressing a smaller kiss to your nose. âBut you gotta go to bed-â
âIâll go to bed when you go to bed.â
Bucky leans back to glare at you, but you just smile right back. That glare doesnât work on you anymore. You might be the only person in the world who can win a starting contest with Sargent Grumpy, and he knows it, because he gives up with a sigh.Â
âJust-â Bucky sighs, tracing metal fingers carefully over your cheekbones. âDonât fight it, if you get tired. Alright?â
âAlright.â You whisper, giving him a small smile. âGo eat, Buck.â
He grunts, pressing a final, firm kiss to the top of your head, and ambles out of the living room.Â
Itâs only a few minutes that heâs gone, but you shuffle restlessly all the same. The smell of him is so much stronger than the shirt or the shampoo. His warmth is so much heavier, and more comfortable, than the blanket. And youâve been aching for him all night, enough that youâll probably climb or ride him first thing in the morning, but you can settle for just contact tonight. Only his body pressed over yours, and his face planted back against your breasts. Heâs tired. You care about him resting far more than you care about him flipping you onto your stomach and kissing up your spine, maybe massaging his hands on your thighs or swatting at your ass-
âI love you,â he grumbles your name as he returns, Chinese food in hand, and flops back over your body. ââS unbelievable, how much I love you. You gotta know that, doll. Iâd so anything for you. Steal the moon, give you a thousand babies.â
You smile at him, tucking yourself into his side as he grabs the remote and switches off of the news. âYou like the dumplings?â
âI like you.â He kisses the side of your head, and when you give him an amused look, he shrugs. âAnd the dumplings. Theyâre my favorite, doll. Thank you.â
âI know.â You hum, not bothering to look away from Bucky as he eats. Heâs yours. You can stare at himâat the sharp line of his jaw and fullness of his lipsâall you want. âA thousand babies is a lot.â
He swallows his bite, giving you a tiny grin. âThen weâll start with just me fuckinâ one into you, and see where it goes.â
You make an incoherent, sleepy sound and Bucky chuckles, tugging you a little closer to his side. Heâs taunting you. Itâs too late in the evening for you to just straddle him and grind in his lap until he gives you all the attention you need. Rest. Tonight is about letting Bucky hold you against him and eat his Chinese food, grumbling at the TV whenever a character makes a stupid choice and getting high on his chuckles whenever you make a joke.Â
It would be nice if he could pretend this was all about him. If he didnât keep feeding you some of his food, and rubbing circles on your arm that prickle heat over your skin. If every time he kissed you, he didnât do it a whole lot deeper than he needed to, before biting the tips of your nose and laughing when you whack his chest. Looking so handsome in relaxes in the dark, the tired expression he had when he came through the door long gone.Â
Maybe you could touch him. Heâs tugged you so youâre straddling his thigh, but that doesnât mean this needs to be about you. You can feel his semi hard cock, pressed on your inner thigh. If you lean down and take him in your mouth, it can be about Bucky and not you-
âBed?â He asks suddenly, and youâre not sure how long youâve been staring at him in the dark. Given the openly amused expression on his face, probably longer than you want to admit.Â
You tilt your head at him. âAre you going to bed?â
He shrugs, your eyes narrow, and you slide a leg over his stomach.Â
Bucky groans, his hands flying to your hips. âCâmon doll, go to bed-â
âI need you there with me.â You hum, bracing your hands on his shoulders, and he sighs.
âI canât sleep,â he mutters, dropping his brow to yours. âLong mission. And you know Iâm not supposed to get in bed âless Iâm gonna sleep.â
Fuck, thatâs true. Some sleep psychology thing Sam made him go to last year, that youâd told all the New Avengers about so they could reinforce it when he was on overnight missions. Unless Bucky knows heâll fall asleep, he canât be in bed. Not if heâs going to stop sleeping on the floor for good.Â
But he canât just stay up. The heaviness might be gone, but you can still see the bags under his eyes. And youâre tired yourself, and you wonât be able to sleep without him, but heâll beat himself up if you sleep on the couch just to be near him.Â
So there are two options here. The first one is the medsâstrong enough to knock out an elephant, and capable of making Bucky sleepyâand the second one is making him relax.Â
The second one is the better option.Â
Because then itâs not about you.Â
You trail your hand slowly down his chest, holding his gaze as you move. He has time to tell you no. That heâs too tired for what youâre obviously aiming for.Â
But Buckyâs eyes just remain on yours, his lips parting slightly as you rub his bulge through his pants, and his eyes darkening with an expression you know far too well.Â
Lust.
He mutters your name as you slowly undo his belt, hand flying up to cup your cheek. âYou donât have to-â
âWant to.â You pull his pants down, taking his underwear with them, and start to stroke Buckyâs cock to attention. âPlease?â
He blinks at you slowly, a low groan escaping his throat as you lean down to kiss along his jaw. âYouâre askinâ me to jerk me off?â
You hum. âAnd give you head.â
He grunts, his hips jerking at just the suggestion and you smile. âThatâs not playing fair, doll-â
âNot trying to play fair.â You lean back, your smile growing at his hooded, ruined expression. âMay I?â
His eyes flick down to where youâre slowly pumping him, your thumb rubbing over the tip of his cock, and he grunts. âYeah. Fuckinâ- Have to be insane to say no-â
You crash down, giving him a deep, comfortable kiss and giggling when he groans your name down your throat, his hands skimming feather-like touched up your side as you pick up your pace.Â
âOff.â He grunts, tugging at your shirtâhis shirtâand you moan as his metal fingers start to roll your nipples with an expert precision. âGotta see you, sweetheart.â
You lean back to undress, and take the opportunity to readjust entirely. Sliding off of Buckyâs lap to angle yourself to the side, helping him all the way out of his pants before-
âShit-â Bucky hisses your name as you take him in your mouth, his hand fisting carefully in your hair. âJesus, warn me-â
You hum, pausing to look at him under your lashes, his cock still heavy on your tongue, and he groans.Â
âDonât stop- Fuck-â
His hips buck up again as you swirl your tongue around the head of him, one hand still stroking the base of his cock as the other braces you up, and you let out a lewd, muffled moan as he bumps the back of your throat.
âShit- Sorry, sweetheart- Christ-â
It didnât bother you. If this wasnât about Bucky relaxing, you wouldâve guided him to just start fucking your face. But youâre doing all the work tonight, so you just hollow your cheeks, relax your jaw, and start to bob up and down. Making him bully your throat and shifting your hand to play with his balls, moaning around him whenever he jerks on your tongue and sucking him off like youâve been starved.Â
But Bucky never gets the memo that this is supposed to be about him. Because suddenly, when youâre licking a strong line up his shaft before dropping down and choking on him, you feel a warm hand massaging your ass and teasing over your panties, right on-Â
You pull off of him with a sharp gasp as Bucky rubs your clit, and he just chuckles, running your hair between his fingers.Â
âBucky-â
âCâmon, babydoll.â He drawls, tugging your hair until youâre looking up at him. âCanât take it as good as you give it.â
You blink at him, almost falling forward as he leaves a light slap on your ass, your hand still mindlessly playing with his balls squeezing slightly.Â
Bucky hisses, landing another hit before rubbing his finger back over your clothed pussy. âPlay nice, sweetheart.â
You moan, slumping into his body as he slowly pulls your panties to the side, teasing his fingers over your bare, soaking slit.Â
âThought you wanted to suck me off, doll?â Bucky teases, and you twist to bury your burning face in his stomach. âBegged me for it, too.â
âBuck,â you whisper, wiggling your ass in the air and whining when you get another light slap. âI need it, please-â
âI know you do, gorgeous.â He tugs your hair again, making you pull back from hiding. âKeep that perfect mouth on my cock and Iâll take care of you.â
You nod mindlessly, wrapping your lips back over his dick, and youâre immediately rewarded with Buckyâs fingers sliding into your cunt.Â
And he didnât lie. He never lies to you.Â
You keep him in your mouth, sucking and moaning around him as he slowly fucks you with his fingers, and you might cum from just his voice. Drawling praise above you and moaning whenever you swallow around him, hisses your name whenever your tongue swirls around him, and-
âThere you go,â he hums, his free hand still tangled in your hair as his hips start to jerk up, and you whine around him. âSo fuckinâ wet for me, look so pretty when youâre takinâ me like a good girl, gonna fuck you âtill you canât walk-â
You moan at the promise, grinding up into the air, and Bucky chuckles.
âLike that, babydoll? Want me to stuff you full of my cock, let me fuck you stupid and sweet-â
Heâs starting to slur his words, and you can taste the pre-cum, falling out of your lips with your drool. Heâs close. It lights an extra fire in you, and you start to suck him off like thereâs no tomorrow. Bucky moans, loud and echoing through the dark, and his fingers in your pussy falter for only a second before his efforts double. His hand twists so he can scissor his fingers in your cunt, his thumb finding your clit and starting to rub rapid, mind-numbing circles.Â
The coil in your gut snaps right as Bucky presses his thumb down, and you squeeze his fingers as he pumps you through your orgasm. It seems to spark his own release, because a groan of your name and slightly tug of your hair up is the only warning you get before Buckyâs cum shoots right into your throat. You try to swallow, but his fingers are crooking and rubbing on that spot deep inside of you, and you can feel a second orgasm rising up.
The dam breaks right as he yanks you fully off his cock, tugging you up into a wet, hot kiss and biting on your lower lip. You scream his name as you squirt over his hand, and he groans, already half-hard cock pressing against your stomach as you grind down onto his hand.Â
You shudder in his arms, a weak whine leaving your throat as his fingers pull out, and thereâs a second where you both just stare at each other in the dark. Youâre still aching, and the serum means he can go all night, and he did say heâd fuck you.Â
He tips your head back slightly, pressing those same fingers that were just inside you on your lower lips. You hold his gaze as you take them in your mouth, sucking them with just as much fervor as you gave his cock, and he groans. Â
âYou got more in you,â he mutters your name, voice dripping with lust, and you nod frantically. âWanna-â
âBed.â You whisper, pulling back with a pleading look. âOr just here-â
Your words die in a yelp as Bucky stands, keeping you steady in his arms, and marches you right to your room. He kisses you as he stops at the foot of the bed, never breaking it as he lowers you both down to the mattress. The only half second, he pulls away is to pull his shirt off his head and toss in into a corner, before raising your legs up to help you out of your panties.Â
He groans at the sight of the mess between your legs, stroking his cock as he kisses on your calf, and lowers your leg down back down to the bed. âSo pretty, babydoll. Gonna fuck you so good, promise.â
You donât get a chance to respond before heâs falling back over you, capturing your mouth in a rough kiss before slowly guiding himself into your pussy. He moans as you flutter around him, leaning back to scan over your face for any discomfort, and you give him is a tiny nod and roll of your hips.
âMore.â You gasp, fingers curling on his chest. âMore, Bucky-â
He groans, kissing the words out of your mouth, and start to roll his hips, fucking you lazily. Slowly.Â
But he picks up the pace. You donât have to beg or whine for him, Bucky always picks up his pace. Starting with hungrier, deeper kisses and tiny love-bites, before becoming a careful but firm grip on your hips, angling them up to give himself a better angle.Â
Then you moan his name, and he slams against that deep spot only he can ever reach. Your back arches off the bed with a gasp, Bucky groans your name as you flutter around his cock, and the speed picks up. The bed creaking under him as he fucks you, really properly fucks you, and youâre flying out of your skin as he groans against your throat, his mouth diving down to wrap around a nipple and sucking. You yank on his hair when his tongue does that maddening swirl and flick, and he start to groan, the sound vibrating thorough your body.
You cum together. Buckyâs lips press right over yours as he pulls out one last time, slams in with a groan, and you come apart in his arms. Your head spins with pleasure as he cums inside of you, kissing all over your face and rubbing his hands in slow circles on your hips as he lets you ease back down.
âShower?â He grunts in your ear, and you nod, your hands rubbing over his back.Â
It glides by so easily, in the soft, comfortable bliss of Buckyâs presence. He helps you to the bathroom so you can pee, turning on the shower and waiting for you to be ready before guiding you into the warm water. By the time youâre both clean the mist has gotten to your head, and sleep is tugging at your eyes. Youâd fight it, if you couldnât feel Bucky humming as he washes your hair. You try to return the favor, but he just keeps you pinned against his chest, kissing over your neck.Â
He climbs into bed with you, after helping you dry off. Wrapped around you and out before you can even really register it. Heâs a silent sleeper, but you know the difference. Heâs relaxed, draped over you, and breathing deeply as you start to drift off.
Home.Â
He always comes home.
End Note: I think writing this kickstarted my ovulation.
If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3
Simon Riley who doesn't get mad if you're not feeling great, you started your period and he's well aware that it makes you grumpy because you're in a lot of pain with cramps and the chronic back pain. He just wants you to feel better.
He doesn't even react when mess of the sticky redness appears between in the middle of the night, getting onto the bedsheets, staining them. He knows you're absolutely mortified, he just carries you to the bathroom and begins to fix it for you, he puts a wash load on, not caring that its the middle of the night, he hands you a fresh shirt of his, and a different set of your pants, helping you change into them, reassuring you that it's ok, kissing your temple and forehead gently.
"it's alright baby.. I see blood all the time at work, doesn't bother me.." You still can't get over the fact that it appeared early so it was out of nowhere and has ruined the sheets. He senses this, "Not ruined sweet'art, it'll come out." He keeps consoling you, pulls you into his lap. You let him hold you as the feelings of shame die down.
"Si.. what time is it?" You ask him with a yawn. The shock wearing off and allowing your tiredness to creep back in.
"Think it's about five. Wan' go back to bed luv?" He asks, he think he knows you want to go to bed but not to sleep, just to cuddle for a bit. "Let me get those new sheets on for you." He gently puts you on the floor, kisses your cheek and then starts making the bed. You stand up to help but he gives you a stern look and you stay put. Once the new and fresh sheets are on you're lifted up and plopped down. He turns the tv on and hands you the remote, letting you pick whatever you want.
bestie ellie x reader high truth or dare ?! maybe it leads to some smut and some revealed feelings ? i love ur workđ€
ââââ # 3.4k àšà§ truth or dare ⥠đ đ đ best friend! els x best friend! reader, lowkey loser-ish ellie, confident! reader, contains mentions of weed & alcohol, smut, heated making out, pantie sniffing, best friends to lovers au, face riding, etc.
rolling a joint between your fingers, ellie quickly licked the wrapper of her own and curled the weed into a blunt that satisfied her. ânow that is how you roll a bud,â she said rather pridefully, a smirk growing on her lips. leaning back against the sofa, her arm wrapped around your shoulders as she quickly tugged you into her side like normal. ânot whatever weird shit you were buying.â
âalright,â you rolled your eyes softly before lifting your bud to herâs. âyou made your point, dork. youâre an expert at joint rolling.â
ellie chuckled, her free hand coming to light up the bud in-between her lips. âglad you agree, sweetheart,â she muttered around the joint. lolling her head to the side, the tip of the bud met yours in order to light it. sighing, you inhaled the smoke and let it sit in your lungs to create that sweet buzz you had been craving all day.
âiâm the best in the area.â
âthatâs debatable.â
âis it, princess?â
smirking, you turned to look at her; leaning into her side, you rested your head on her shoulder. âmhm,â you hummed. âi bet i could roll a lot better than you.â your best friend chuckled, her chest rumbling beneath your ear. your cheeks tinted from both the smog of weed and the abrupt flush that crawled up your neck. you loved when she got all cuddly and coddled you.
âyouâre cute.â
the two of you spent the next ten to twenty minutes smoking your joints as you giggled at the dumb puns ellie attempted to make while half high. she had a much higher tolerance than you didâhalf a blunt was enough to knock you out, and it took her maybe one and a half in order to feel tipsy.
she loved it though. the dynamic between you two made it easier for her to tease you whenever you curled up into her side and begged for her attention. sheâd never deny you of it, of course. ellie yearned for it anyways.
scratching your head, she watched from her green hues as you lended back against the sofa and propped your feet up against her lap. âmâ bored, els.â you slurred, dumping off the ash from your blunt into the ash tray. âcan we play a game?â
âa game?â she questioned, tilting her head. âwhat kinda game, princess?â her hand came to rest against your thigh, squeezing the flesh beneath your jeans softly.
you thought for a moment. âtruth or dare? and if you refuse to answer or do the dare.. you have to take a shot.â stumbling to your feet, you grabbed the spare bottle of tequila you always hid in your apartment.
ellie chuckled, watching the way you danced hazily back into her arms. perched on her lap, she inhaled shortly, acutely aware of the lack of space between you two. yeah, she enjoyed it, but it also made those weird feelings bubble up inside of her chest all over again.
âa shot, huh?â
you nodded, popping open the top and taking a swig. âwhew,â you scrunched your nose, âitâs still strong.â ellie rolled her eyes and took the bottle from your hands, setting it beside her on the sofa.
âalright, babe, letâs not get drunk before the game even starts. youâre already high off your ass as it is.â she said, looking up at your face. setting her joint in the ashtray to dangle forgotten, her hands came to rest on your hips. âwho goes first?â
pursing your lips, you tilted your head and thoughtâor whatever you could even manage as a thoughtââme? iâll ask you!â you giggled, wrapping your arms around her neck and leaning towards her. ellie inhaled sharply, nodding her head as she attempted to contain the small squeal of happiness she felt.
âtruth or dare.â
âhm,â ellie murmured, âtruth.â
you smirked, âwhoâs the last person you slept with?â
the question made her pause. in all honesty, she didnât even know. she hadnât slept with anyone in a whileânot since she had begun to feel this tingly sensation every time your hand brushed against hers. she knew that it meant something, and whatever it was, it was too important to lose because if a one night stand. her eyes found yours again. she smiled softly.
âmm.. iâm not sure.â she answered truthfully to which you huffed out an annoyed groan. ellieâs eyes widened. âyouâre such a lair!â you replied, pouting your lip.
your best-friend stared at you, âa liar?â
âyeah! youâre always sleeping around.â you said matter of fact as you grabbed the liquor bottle. âdrink.â
her eyes fell from your face to the bottle, ânu-uh,â she clicked her tongue and grabbed the bottle back. âcauseâ iâm not lying. my turn, anyway. truth or dare, princess?â you pouted again, but ultimately gave in to her persuasion.
she always had that affect on you.
âdare.â you said confidently.
ellieâs thumbs rubbed against your hips as she lolled her head to the side. âdare, yeah? and youâll really do it?â she smirked, âyouâll have to drink if you donât.â she reminded you.
âi know!â
âokay, if you insist.â
she thought for a moment before an idea popped into her head. it wasnât too absurd. after all, the two of you had done it as a joke once or twice, but right now, it was anything but a joke. her tongue dipped out to swipe against her bottom lip, âkiss me.â
âkiss you?â you repeated her words, glancing at her lips. soft, plump, and gently pink. for a moment, the haze in your head had passed and you were aware of both the weight and heat of the moment. yes, you two had kissed before.
though, the way she was looking at you right now, seemed anything but friendly. you gulped, nodding your head. if you didnât kiss herânot that you didnât want toâyouâd have to drink. your arms wrapped around her neck tightly as you leaned forward.
chest to chest now.
ellieâs eyes widened. you were actually going to do it?
âclose your eyes, els.â
she obliged right away. her green eyes fluttered shut and she waited like a loser for your lips to brush against herâs. when they did, god, it was intoxicating. she had been starved of this feeling for too long. for you two hadnât kissed in ages, and now, she was getting to experience it from a whole new perspective.
ellie immediately grasped your hips harder as she curled you towards her. nudging your head to a better angle, she deepened the kiss by ten fold. her tongue prodded against the slit between your lips; asking if she could proceed further than just a simple peck. this caught you off guard, but it wasnât not pleasant. in fact, it was more than so.
a sigh escaped her when you parted for her. her tongue immediately began to roam around your mouth, pushing and pressing against your own tongue. she was fighting you for dominance, which you quickly let her take. you were never the dominant typeâor at least, not with something so new as this.
your fingers curled into her short strands of hair, tugging softly. ellie groaned, bucking up her hips slightly to create that sweet friction she craved. when she realized what she did, she pulled away, cheeks flushed and lips kiss swollen. her eyes were hazy from both weed and the fact that she hadnât even realized how quickly she was moving from just a simple kiss.
âfuck,â she mumbled beneath her breath, watching the way you stared at her face. your eyes roamed over her features, and she could help but wonder what was going through that pretty head of yours. âthat wasââ
you breathed out slowly, âreally fucking good.â
âi know iâmâ wait, what?â
she was preparing to admit that she had taken it too far and was going to play it off as not getting any game lately, but when she heard you say it was goodâher entire demeanor changed. âgood? youâre saying that kiss was good?â
âwas it not for you?â
ellieâs hands tightened on your hips, âfuck yeah, it was good. i-i meanâfuck, i just..â your best friend stammered, unable to contain the feelings that was bubbling up onto the surface.
âare you.. nervous?â you questioned, raising a brow as you watched her flush profusely beneath your eyes.
she tried to play it off, âwhatâ? pfft, no? me? nervous? never.â all you could do was stare at her as she avoided eye contact and kept looking away with her green hues darting every which way around the room. you chuckled, her fingers tapping nervously on your hips.
âyour turn.â you said finally, easing her back into your gaze.
ellie nodded, swallowing thickly as she thought about the question. âtruth or dare?â she whispered, voice trembling and heart hammering in her chest. your answer was quick; like you were waiting for her.
âtruth.â
âare you.. into anyone right now?â
pursing your lips, you couldnât help but notice the way she glanced down at the way you were seated in her lap when she asked that question. had she been thinking about that this entire time?
you shook your head, fingers curling into the bottom strands of her hair, ânot.. really, but i do have a crush.â you admitted. now, this?
this caught ellieâs attention. she was quick to look back up at you, eyes wide and pupils blown like she didnât hear you correctly the first time. she stammered, âwhatâ? i mean, who? yaâ know, cause you usually tell me stuff like that.â she tried to play it off nonchalantly.
she was failing miserably.
you could read her too well. she knew that, and you were using it to your advantage.
âsomeone you know very well.â you smirked.
ellie paused. fuck, why did you have to look so cute like that? were you trying to kill her? âsomeone i know? donât tell me you have a crush on one of our friendsââ
âyou.â
you cut her off abruptly to finish her sentence. you were tired of waiting and avoiding the obvious tension between the two of you. it was maddening to know that you could take this further if you both just owned up to the lingering feelings beneath the surface.
ellieâs jaw slackened and her mouth parted, eyes fixing on yours intensely. âdonât fuck with me.â she stated.
âyou said truth or dare, i would have drank if i didnât want to tell you the truthââ
that was all she fucking needed.
in swift movements, she had you hoisted in her arms. she had always been strongâyou had spent a lot of your time watching her work out in the gym when you were bored and had nothing better to do. you even often found yourself admiring the toned definition of her biceps and back.
ellie was fucking hot, to say the least. now, you were in her arms with your thighs wrapped our her waist. she was quick to carry you to the bed, placing you gently on the mattress like you were the most delicate the thing in the entire world; as if you were more precious than her savage starlight comic book collection.
because well, you knew hardly anything compared to that. but you? fuck, to ellie, you were so much more than any possession. you were everything she wanted in a girl, and yet she had always been too scared to mess up your friendship in order to admit her underlying feelings.
but to hell with that. she would squander it as much as she wanted now, because she knew you felt the same way. you had her wrapped around your pinky so tightly, and she would gladly be tugged absolutely anywhere you had in mind.
needless to say, ellie was very needy when it comes to you. she was so used to being dominate 24/7âa butch lesbian that beats up guys for hitting on women who donât want it, but right now, she was simply putty in your pretty little palms.
she was quick to burry her face between your legs, inhaling the fabric of your jeans. âfuck,â she muttered, fingers hooking into the loops and quickly tugging the material down your thighs. you let her, of course; lifting your hips and helping her guide it off of your body.
leaving you in a top and underwear, ellie took a long look at the body beneath herâthe girl whom had her awestruck for far too long. she smirked to herself, growing hungrier by the minute. though, the more she constricted herself to strictly looking, the more the heat built up inside of her lower belly.
which was good, because that feeling was intoxicating.
âyou donât know how many times iâve imagined this.â
âhave you?â
âso much, princess.â
she come down between your thighs again, freckled nose brushing against the seam of your cotton underwear. you arch at the touch, eyes closing as she inhales your scent. her lips curl in a small growl, simply sniffing you as if she was a predator and you were her prey. which, you wereâunder her like a bunny caught in a trap.
she enjoyed it, clearly. âsmell so good,â ellie murmured, nose sliding against the slit of your folds above the cotton. âbet you taste good, too.â
âi do.â you confirmed with a breathless nod.
she chuckles darkly, helping you out of your underwear. she holds them in her hands, glancing around at the soft cotton before bringing it to her nose again. she inhales the scent once more. âthink mâ gunna keep these to reminisce.â
âellieââ
another chuckle and sheâs back between your thighs. she slaps the skin on the side and motions for you to rest your ankles against her shoulders. âcome here,â she instructed, feeling the way you buck against the cold air. her cheeks warm, âgreedy girl.â
âtease me more.â you begged, hands resting in her soft strands of hair. âlove when you make me whine for it.â
you were confident with your words. not a blubbering mess, but sure about what you were asking for. it turns her on even more and there she was, being tugged by your pinky to do what you asked.
even if she tried being the dominant one, you were making her weaker by the moment. âyes maâam,â she replied, dipping down to admire the wetness of your cunt. âyou wanna be played with, yeah?
you nod desperately.
âfuck me, jesus.â she sighed, simply wanting to dive in and never come up for air. âgunna ransack this pussy.â
when her tongue finally meets your slit, you jolt from the pleasure. âoh!â you cried out, back arching. âshit, oh fuckââ a ramble of curses leave your lips when she begins to lap at you softly.
she moves slowly and doesnât take it too fast. in fact, she takes her time to taste you before she ever makes her way to your clit. you were the most sensitive there, and the way it twitched against the air only solidified that to her. the notion of that small bundle of nerves being your undoing was enough to make ellie squirm to hold herself back.
âmm,â her mouth moved with ease, tongue brushing against your entrance before swirling back up. âdefinitely taste like heaven.â her voice is muffled as she spoke.
you were soaked, and you knew once she got her fingers in you, youâd be dribbling all over them. your walls clenched around nothing when she reached your clit, tongue pulling circles before prodding at the sweet bundle of nerves. you whined, tugging her hair. âels.. mmââ
âyeah, let me hear you.â
âellie, fuck, please. just use me, i wanna be used by you.â
the red head sighed a deep breath against your cunt before bringing her free hand up to massage your entrance. she prodded gently at the hole, feeling the slickness of your heat desperately try to envelope her fully; as if you were pulling her in. âshit.â
âyou sound heavenly.â she complimented; to which you smirked to yourself and bucked your hips up towards her mouth. as if she was simply just a machine to be used for your pleasure.
even if that was the case, she didnât mind.
her tongue lapped at you again, sucking on your clit before diving two fingers inside. teasing you further, she fucked you with two fingers gingerly and slowly. she just simply wanted to feel the way your hole stretched out to greet her. dear god, it was too good. going fast would ruin all the pleasure she felt from this.
âso fucking wet.â she coaxed, spreading you open even more as she added a third finger. you adjusted to her quickly, taking her in as if it was the easiest thing in the entire world. and ellie? she was absolutely smitten with the way you took it.
if only she had her strap. she would fuck you so hard with that silicon cock that youâd be screaming for her to slow downâor maybe speed up. who knows, you may like it when sheâs pounding into you from behind.
your eyes rolled back, âfuck, your fingers feel so good, baby.â you whimpered, fucking onto her hand like you were in heat.
âjesus..â
you were taking control and absolutely lulling her into your sweet solace. glancing up from between your thighs, she took a good long look at your face and the way your expression twisted with every move. she was satisfied with the way you looked, and simply wanted to destroy you even more. continuing her ministrations with her fingers, she moved up to hover above your face.
her eyes glanced around your face before she took your lips with herâs and kissed your hard. her tongue slipped between your soft lips and prodded at your own with a groan. ellieâs hips bucked on their own as if seeking the sweet release she was giving to you and you alone.
she wanted it for herself, but just the mere sight and hearing you whine was enough to get her off.
she didnât need to touch herself to cum. not with you. just touching your pussy and fucking you good would be enough to make her finish.
pulling back from your mouth, the only thing that connected you two was the pump or her three fingers and a string of saliva. your eyes were hazy and fogged over from the intenseness of her movements as she sped up. âlike that?â she whispered.
you nodded quickly.
âyouâre so good at this.â you praised her, and nearly broke the resistance she was holding back. ellie groaned, desperately wanting to keep her composure but at this very moment, she really didnât want to.
quickly pulling her fingers out, she grabbed you by the hips. sitting you up, she quickly laid down against the mattress and licked her bottom lip, âsit on my face.â she instructed through a huff of air.
your lips turned upward in a smirk, heart beating rapidly. your pussy ached to feel the way she could fuck you with her tongue and not to mention completely suffocating her with your cunt.
âyour face? like a chair?â
âdonât make me ask twice, princess.â
âyouâd never have to, baby.â
without much thought, you crawled up to her face and lined your pussy up with her mouth. taking a seat on her face as if she was a chair, you began to grind against her tongue that splayed out to catch your clit.
and damn didnât feel so fucking good.
you arched your back, bringing your arms up to rest behind your head as you moved. âoh shit, iâm gunna cum on your tongue just like this.â you whimpered, picking up your speed.
ellieâs hands held onto your hips to keep you steady, and you could feel the pulse of her hips as she desperately ground up into the air.
it wasnât long until both of you were comingâellie in her boxers and you on her tongue. you groaned softly, falling back between her legs as she sat up for air. your essence dripped down her chin, and you couldnât help but admire the way she looked with flushed cheeks and hazy eyes. you smirked.
âwas that good?â
your best friendâs eyes came to rest on your figure, tits still hidden beneath the fabric of your top and bra. her stomach churned, âwas it good? shit, iâm gunna fuck you every day like that.â she said, coming to grab you by the waist and pull you into her.
finding a comfortable position on your bed, she smiled warmly into your neck.
âno need to go find someone else now,â she whispered against your ear. âyour crushâ likes you back.
cw â mdni, reader is ellie's gf, vi is kinda mean, strap usage, brief spanking, hair-pulling, squirting, nerd!cuck!ellie...? anyone...?
"fuuck, look at her .."
vi laughs, her calloused hands gripping your waist as she continued her merciless pounding into your cunt. there was nothing but the sound of vi's hips colliding with your ass and the obscene squelching of your wetness filling the room as she fucked you deep into the mattress. this was all occurring right in front of your girlfriend, ellie, who had been made to watch the entire thing with her hands tied behind her back.
you were nothing but a moaning, drooling mess. sweat dripped off both of your bodies and your hair was a tangled mess from being constantly manhandled. the embarrassment of getting wrecked in view of ellie had long left your body; too drunk on the dizzying feeling of vi's thick strap hitting that sweet spot over and over again.
"you see this shit? thaat's how you make your girl feel good," vi tosses a glance at ellie, who had been subtly rubbing her thighs together for some form of friction in her dampening pants, "bet you've never gotten her this wet 'nd needy before, huh?"
vi reached down and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back enough so you could properly look at ellie, who was gazing back at you with just as much patheticism.
"c'mon, look at your girlfriend .. let's show her the mess you're gonna make all over my dick, yeah?" vi murmurs against your ear, giving your ass a firm spank with her free hand. you let out a small, pained yelp from the impact as your noisy cunt tightens around the silicone, your orgasm rapidly approaching.
"o-oh god, ngh .. ! ellie, please .. !" you whined, your vision all watery as you tried your best to keep your eyes on her. ellie bit her bottom lip at your needy display, wanting nothing more than to break out of her restraints so she could touch you too.
"tsk, i'm the one fucking you dumb and you've got the nerve to moan her name?" vi scoffs, her thrusts somehow getting rougher. her hand comes down to rub tight circles around your aching clit, which spurs on louder moans from your throat. "go on .. look at ellie in the eyes as you cum. let her know who's making you feel this good."
you fall over the edge not long after â your cunt spasming around the strap as you squirted all over the bedsheets and vi's thighs. exhaustion immediately took over as your twitchy body melted into the sheets, too weak to hold yourself up anymore.
"h-holy shit ..." ellie murmurs in awe, watching with labored breaths as your body trembled from the intensity of your orgasm.
vi slowly pulls out of you, the base of her fake shaft covered in a ring of cream. she takes a moment to catch her breath before sitting back and leaning against the headboard, pulling your worn-out body against hers. with your back now pressed against her chest, she reaches for your thighs and spreads them apart, giving ellie the perfect view of your spent cunt that still leaked with your juices.
"get over here, ellie. gotta teach you how to eat your girl out properly, too."
titsay
pixelskylines
vaporwave
izzy806
2087
stormborns
turnnoffyourmind
