my name is, Jordan, you can call me Jt, Jay, or Jordy. I write for many things, my requests are open, and if there’s something that’s not on my masterlist I will try my best to write whatever you want me to. it might take me a bit, but I hope to capture what you want. I also don’t roleplay, sorry not sorry.
Things I will NOT write about are: Incest, Rape, Domestic violence/any type of abuse, Sexual harassment, Bestiality, Grooming, Age gap higher than 30, Underage. absolutely NO wincest
sometimes I almost forget slut is a derogatory term. it's so friend shaped to me. I love when things are slutty. I love sluts and slutting it up. it's a cute word. make every day sluttier than your last. sluttttt
the kink bloggers found this post and are putting horny stuff in my notifications but I'm not even mad. the sluts are in the notes of the slut positivity post. all is as it should be.
Summary: Bucky decides it’s time for a haircut, which you protested, but when he comes back, you just can’t hold yourself back.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI She/her pronouns for the reader. Pussy pronouns once (she). Smut. Oral (f recieving), fingering, hair pulling (pulling Bucky’s hair). Whimpering Bucky (yayy). P in V unprotected (wrap it up tho kids)
WC: 1.6k
“Bucky!” You whined as he grabbed his keys from the counter, “You can’t do this to me, your hair is so perfect.” You leaned your upper body over the couch and pouted, although his back was to you
“Doll, I haven’t had a proper haircut in decades. I think it’s time for this ratty hair to go.” When he turned around to face you, he couldn’t help but smile ear to ear at your frown. “It will be fine.”
“You don’t know what.”
“I do,” he walked closer and kissed your forehead. “It’s just hair if you don’t like it, I’ll grow it back.”
You huffed in protest, and he chuckled at you. “Baby, why do you even want to cut your hair?” You stretched up and wrapped one arm around his neck, pulling him closer, and your other hand went straight to his hair, running through it.
“Because I had this hair when I was...” he paused and cleared his throat, “Well, this hair is just no longer who I am. I want everything fresh, you know.”
Your eyes soften. You couldn’t argue with him, but you still couldn’t hide your pout. “Okay.” You kissed his cheek softly, and he leaned into you. “Just promise me you will not go bald, and you will find a woman in there and ask her opinion, and you will let her know you have a girlfriend.”
“Of course,” he smiled at you. “Stop pouting,” he said, kissing your lips softly. Instinctively, you smiled, but when he pulled away, you put on a fake pout
“You like it when I pout.”
“Not like this…and it’s too late, I saw you smile.” You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway as he kissed you gently one last time.
You tangled your fingers into his long hair and pulled softly, and he whimpered, “Yeah, I’ll miss that.” You both chuckled and said goodbye as Bucky headed out the door to get rid of one of the sexiest parts of himself.
…
About an hour later, you were in your bedroom folding laundry when Bucky came home. You hadn’t heard him come in over the music, but you gasped when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. You gasped instantly, but relaxed when you heard his soft voice, “Hi, sweetheart.”
You smiled, “Hi baby,” you went to turn around to see the haircut, but his lips attached to your neck, keeping your face forward, and pinning you to his back. You chuckled, “Let me see!”
Without answering, he pulled out flowers from behind his back and put them into your hands. They were your favorite “Shit, Bucky, is it bad?” You closed your eyes in fear that your boyfriend would be bald for the next few months, but he chuckled behind you.
“I don’t know, actually.” Your eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. “Haven’t seen myself with short hair in maybe 80 years…I-I’m not sure if I look like me.”
“Can I see?” you asked softly. Suddenly, you didn’t care what it looked like. As soon as you heard the waver in his voice, you just wanted to tell him he looked handsome.
He took a deep breath, then nodded against you, letting go.
You turned around slowly, and as soon as your eyes landed on the new haircut…you were dripping. “Oh” was all you could manage
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, and you quickly jumped to fix your words
“No, no, not oh, as in bad oh as in … oh.” Your own tone of voice made his eyebrows raise
“So you like it?” Did you like it…you were ready to pounce any second. If he were willing, you’d let him get you pregnant just so you could pass down the luxurious hair gene
“Yeah fuck baby, I love it. Like I really love it,” he smiled softly
“Good, good. I was worr-” he started to turn around so he could walk over to the mirror in the bathroom, but you grabbed his arm, stopping him “What?” his eyes grew worried again.
You couldn’t even form words looking at him, so you just pulled him closer to you and kissed him roughly. It didn’t take Bucky even a second to kiss you back, his hands immediately finding your lower back.
As the kiss grew more intense, he walked you back towards the bed, until the back of your knees hit it, causing you to fall on the mattress. Bucky was quick to get on top of you, pulling away for just a moment to look at you.
“Bucky, you look fucking hot,” he smirked
“Yeah?” His Brooklyn accent was strong, and you clenched around nothing. You rolled your eyes at his teasing and pulled on his hair, and he whimpred again. “Feels good when you do that, had to make sure it was still long enough for you.”
You planted yourself on your elbows and kissed him again. After a moment, his lips attached to your neck and he bit down on the spot he knew was most sensitive. “Fuck Bucky. Need you.”
He pulled away quickly and got on his knees in front of you. “Need to taste you, baby, please.” his fingers slipped under the waistband of your sweatpants, and you nodded. He practically ripped them and your underwear off in one swift motion.
His big arms pulled your legs apart, making sure he had the perfect view of your cunt. “So pretty, baby.”
“Bucky, please,” you whined as your hands went to his hair, trying to pull him closer, but that damn super soldier strength kept him from budging. He chuckled, close enough you could feel his breath on your pussy, and you shivered.
“So eager, Doll. I want to have my fun,” he teased when you groaned. His hands ran up and down the sides of your thigh as his lips attached to your skin.
He left a trail of kisses as he made his way up to your core. He paused before kissing you where you needed it most. “Need you so bad. Please, I’ll be good.”
He looked up at you, and no matter how hard he tried to play tough whenever he was looking at you, he melted, and you could always see it in his eyes. “Yeah, my good girl. Just for me?”
“Just for you, Buck.”
He hummed, content with your words, and finally put his lips on your clit. You both groaned at the same time as he began licking you slowly. “She’s so wet for me.” His Brooklyn accent was strong whenever he was touching you.
“It’s the hair,” you teased, but it was the truth. His mouth was on you again, this time sucking faster and harder. Two fingers entered you without warning, and you cried out, encouraging Bucky to keep going.
You tried to buck your hips, but his big arms wrapped around your thighs, were keeping you in place for him. You pulled at the ends of his hair again, and he moaned against you.
His eyes lifted to meet yours, which sent you over the edge. “Fuck Bucky, I’m gonna cum.” The third finger he shoved inside of you was his way of telling you to cum for him.
You cried out as your orgasm hit you like a fucking train, and Bucky kept his tongue working as you let your orgasm take over you.
When you finally came down, Bucky took his lips off you, and you groaned, “Need to be inside you, baby.” He stood up and tried to turn you around, but you protested.
“Wanna see you.” he smiled, “Wanna see the new haircut” he smirked and moved you further up the bed.
He worked his pants and shift off quickly as you took off your shirt and bra.
He stood in front of you with his dick stiff in his hands. He spread your legs and pumped himself a few times before lining his tip up with your entrance. “‘m gonna fuck you so good, baby. Take good care of my girl, yeah?”
“Yes, Bucky, please,” you whined. Your whine was all he needed to push himself into you.
It was slow and deliberate, and you needed more. He could tell by the way your face schruhced so he pulled himself out and without warning slammed back into you, causing you to cry out, “You feel so fucking good, Doll. So tight for me.”
You could only moan in agreement as he fucked into you. His hands wandered up your curves before landing on your tits, gripping them. “So fucking perfect for me,” he pulled on your nipples, and you whimpred, “Love that sound.”
You could barely form words; everything felt so good. His eyes were glued to your face. As you tightened around him, he moaned, “Fuck, just like that ‘m gonna cum.”
“Fuck me too, Bucky.”
“Cum for me, angel. Let it all go.” It didn’t take much more for your eyes to squeeze shut as your body shook beneath his. “Yeah, that's it, let me feel you.”
He fucked you through your orgasm, his hitting soon after yours. As you both came down, his movements slowed until he was paused over you. Your chests rising and falling in sync.
Your hand made its way back to his hair, running through it. He chuckled softly, then leaned forward to place his forehead on yours, giving you a quick peck. “You really like the haircut?”
You chuckled, “Yes, Bucky, you look really good.”
He smiled against you, “Should have gotten it done months ago if I knew this would be the outcome.”
Bucky is woken up by his family. Featuring lines from the song Joy To The World.
Warnings: none, fluff only goes here
Words: 264
The music was loud enough to bleed through the closed kitchen door, something you always tried to do when you were letting him sleep in. He didn’t bother reminding you that he could hear everything.
This morning though, you weren’t trying to be quiet.
He nudged the door with his foot and let it swing open.
Stevie’s hair was wild, a testament to her night spent horizontal between you both with her feet in his face.
Baby Lena was on your hip and being swung wildly from side to side as you danced with a batter covered spoon in the other hand.
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
Bucky’s little girl - five going on twenty-five - pointed at you and her little sister, then herself, wiggling in her seat.
Blessed with the same perception as her mother, Stevie turned just enough to spot him in the doorway.
“Daaaaaddy!”
He flashed you a wink, and pulled out the chair next to his wild-haired wonder.
Her arm, sticky up to the elbow, snaked around his neck and held him tightly as she sang loudly and off-key directly down his ear.
You put Lena down and she began crawling her way through juice cups and plates of half-finished pancakes until she reached him and launched herself into his arms.
Bucky caught her with ease.
“Good morning, ladies, what an excellent way to start the day,” he grinned.
He’d had over a hundred years of mornings.
It had taken too many for him to figure out what they were really for.
genre: MDNI, SMUT SMUT SMUT !!!! dirty dreams, HELLA DIRTY TALK, use of ‘good girl,’ kinda inspired by that one episode where Sam had that dream about Bella
Sam's head lolled forward, the worn leather of the motel chair creaking under his weight. His fingers were still wrapped around a half empty beer bottle condensation dripping onto the faded jeans stretched over his thighs. The laptop screen had gone dark minutes ago or was it an hour? He'd been poring over lore about some hellhound variant but exhaustion had finally dragged him under.
The motel room was quiet just the hum of the ancient AC unit and the occasional thump from the room next door. Dean and Y/N were out grabbing food, which meant Sam had the place to himself. He'd meant to stay awake, keep researching but three days of consecutive hunts had left his body screaming for rest.
And before he knew it his head was against the table.
You appeared in the doorway of the motel room, but it wasn't the same door it was softer, warmer somehow and the edges blurred like honey. Sam watched from his chair as you stepped inside, your movements slow and deliberate. You wore that tight black top he'd seen you in earlier, the one that hugged every curve and jeans that sat low on your hips.
"Hey” you said, your voice a low purr that sent a shiver straight to his groin.
Sam's breath hitched. "Hey."
You reached behind your neck, pulling the top over your head in one fluid motion. The fabric slid away, revealing your bare breasts, nipples already hard in the cool air of the dream motel. You tossed the shirt aside your eyes locked on his.
"Been thinking about you all day" you murmured, fingers working the button of your jeans.
Sam's mouth went dry. He couldn't look away, couldn't move. You pushed the jeans down your thighs watching them fall to the floor. You stepped out of them now only in a pair of black lace panties.
"Come here” he rasped, his voice rough with want.
But you didn't walk. You turned slowly bending over to pick up the jeans giving him a perfect view of your ass in those tiny panties. The curve of it, the way the lace stretched over your flesh Sam felt his cock thicken painfully in his jeans.
When you turned back, a smirk played on your lips. You sauntered toward him and stopped just inches from his chair. He could smell you, sweet and musky, that scent he'd caught on your skin during the hunt now amplified and intoxicating.
"Sam” you breathed, reaching out to trace a finger along his jawline.
He grabbed your wrist but not to stop you. His other hand shot out hooking his fingers through the loop on your panties and with a sharp tug he pulled you forward. You stumbled, landing half in his lap, your knees hitting the edge of the chair.
"Fuck” you gasped your hands bracing against his broad chest.
Sam's grip on the loop tightened yanking you again until you were straddling his thighs. The denim of his jeans pressed against the thin lace of your panties. He could feel the heat of your cunt through the fabric a damp warmth that made his dick throb.
"You think you can just walk in here strip down and tease me?" His voice was low a growl that vibrated through his chest “You have no idea what you do to me."
Your cheeks flushed, but you didn't look away. "Then show me."
A dark laugh rumbled from him. His hands slid from your hips to your ass gripping hard fingers digging into the soft flesh. He pulled you closer grinding your core against the thick bulge in his jeans. You moaned your head falling back.
"That's it" Sam said his mouth finding your throat. He licked a hot stripe up the side of your neck then bit down gently on your earlobe. "I love how responsive you are. The way you gasp when I touch you. Like you were made for me."
You whimpered, your hips bucking against his. He could feel your wetness soaking through the lace, leaving a damp patch on his jeans. His control frayed.
"Tell me what you want" he demanded pulling back to look into your eyes. His pupils were blown wide, nearly black and his breathing was ragged.
"I want you to fuck me" you said your voice shaking.
"Good girl." He kissed you then hard and demanding, his tongue sliding into your mouth. One hand griped at the base of neck forcing you to tilt your head back, while the other traced down your stomach slipping beneath the waistband of your panties.
His fingers found your clit already slick and swollen. You gasped against his lips as he circled it with his thumb, pressing just hard enough to make you see stars.
"Look at you" he murmured, his lips brushing yours. "So wet so ready. And it's all for me isn't it?"
"Yes" you breathed, your nails digging into his shoulders.
"That's my good fucking girl." He shoved your panties aside, his fingers sliding through your folds, gathering your wetness. He groaned at the feel of you "I'm going to fill this perfect pussy so full of my cock. You're going to take every inch and you're going to love it."
You nodded frantically, your body trembling.
He pushed two fingers inside you, a sudden deep stretch that made you cry out. Your head dropped to his shoulder as he fucked you with his fingers, curling them just right hitting that spot that made your toes curl.
"Please Sam" you begged, your voice a wreck.
"Please what?" He withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth. He sucked them clean tasting you his eyes never leaving yours. "You want my cock? You want me to fuck you until you can't walk?"
"Yes, please, yes!"
He grabbed your hips, positioning you over his lap. His cock strained against his jeans the zipper digging into him. He was about to free himself, to pull it out and bury himself inside you-
The world shifted.
Sam jolted awake, his heart hammering in his chest. The motel room was real again dim, stale and the AC rattling. He was still in the chair, the beer bottle now warm on the desk. But his body was on fire, his cock rock hard and aching, straining against the fly of his jeans.
And then he heard it.
The door clicked open.
You stepped inside, a plastic bag of takeout in your hand. Your eyes landed on him, concern creasing your brow.
"Sam? You okay? You look like you saw a ghost"
He blinked, trying to process. You were fully dressed jeans, a loose flannel, no sign of the black top or lace. The real you, standing there in the ordinary motel room.
"Uh, yeah" His voice cracked. He cleared his throat. "Fine. Just fell asleep."
"Didn't mean to startle you" you set the bag on the small table moving closer. "You sure? You're all red and sweating."
Sam shifted, trying to angle his hips away but the bulge in his jeans was impossible to hide. He grabbed a throw pillow from the chair and dropped it into his lap pressing it down to mask the obvious tent.
"Yeah just a weird dream" he forced a smile. "Nothing to worry about."
You tilted your head, suspicion flickering in your eyes but you let it go. "Alright. Dean'll be back in a few. I got burgers”
Sam nodded gripping the pillow like a lifeline as you turned to unpack the food, he let out a shaky breath his mind still replaying the feel of your skin, your taste, the sound of your moans.
You tell Steve that you don't think you're capable of orgasming with a guy. He's determined to prove you wrong.
pairing: steve harrington x reader
words: 4.2k
contains: (18+ smut!! minors dni) mutual masturbation, porn with very little plot, hint of friends to lovers, pet names, steve is packing, female reader, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns for reader.
author's note: request by @djobriens | this is inspired by that scene from off campus!! recently watched it and i am forever changed. this was yet another request that started as a blurb and ended up being way too long.
Telling one of your closest friends that a guy had never made you come had seemed like an okay idea at first. Unless that guy was Steve Harrington who took the news like it was a personal insult.
"What?" He asked, a look of horror on his face as he stared at you as though he was waiting for some sort of punchline. "Never? You're kidding right? This is some sort of sick joke—"
Your face feels hot as you look away from Steve, suddenly regretting telling him about your disappointing date from Saturday night. Suddenly regretting being too honest with him, about the lack of orgasms that you had received from men over the years. You would usually talk about this sort of stuff with Robin but she was on vacation with her family and you needed someone to vent to. And so, you had showed up to Steve’s under the guise of a movie night and general catch up.
But maybe venting to Steve had been a bad idea.
"Forget I said anything," you say quickly, leaning over to grab the large bowl of popcorn that had been sitting on Steve's lap and stuffing a large handful into your mouth just to avoid answering any further questions.
But of course—Steve wasn't going to let you off that easily.
"I'm serious!" Steve says, snatching the popcorn back and placing it on the coffee table before shifting on the sofa to look at you properly. "This is—this is abhorrent. Do you exclusively date selfish assholes or something?"
If you hadn't had a mouthful of popcorn, you would have probably argued with him. But instead you settle for sending him a glare as you chew what was left of the salty popcorn in your mouth.
"Do you finish when you touch yourself?"
You nearly choke on a popcorn kernel.
"Jesus Christ, Harrington!" you gasp out, your face now so hot you were surprised that steam wasn’t rising from your skin. “You can’t just ask me that—”
“—what?” Steve asks, seemingly confused why you were so taken aback by his question. “I’m trying to help—”
“—by asking me about masturbation?”
“I’m just trying to understand the situation!”
You huff because you knew deep down Steve had good intentions. You knew he wasn’t asking to be a creep—he was asking because he genuinely cared about you and wanted to help you with the situation. But talking about something so intimate with Steve made you feel a lot of things that you weren’t quite sure what to do with.
“Yes,” you say finally, determinedly not looking at Steve as you answer. “Yes, I um, I finish when I—you know—”
“—touch yourself?” Steve finishes for you and the words send heat coursing through your entire body. You shift on the couch beside him, eyes on his TV that was currently playing some sitcom you were no longer paying attention to. “C’mon, don’t be coy about it! Masturbation is normal! I do it at least three times a—”
“—Steve!” You scold him, your face somehow even hotter as you turn to glare at him. “I don’t need to know about how many times a week you jerk off—”
“—actually, I was going to say that I do it three times a day.”
You look at him and suddenly, any intelligent thought you had disappears. Because now all you could think about was Steve and what he’d look like fucking his fist with his cock. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about Steve in that way before. He may be a good friend of yours but he was also stupidly attractive and wore jeans that hugged his lower half a little too well. Sometimes, if you had a chance to look at him for long enough, you could see the imprint of his thick cock over the denim. And his ass—
“You know I’m kidding right?” Steve asks you, seeming to take your lack of response as disgust—when in reality it was anything but. “I don’t—that’s just excessive. Few times a week is enough for me—”
“—okay, okay! I get it!” You interrupt, wanting him to stop talking because his words were going straight to your core and you didn’t want your traitorous eyes to shift down to his lap. “I don’t need to know your…schedule.”
Steve smiles a little before nudging you with his elbow. “It’s pretty rigorous, I’ll tell you that—”
“—Steven—”
“—sorry,” Steve grins at you before he finally looks away from you. You pray that he drops the entire conversation, that he doesn’t ask anymore questions so that you could finally take moment to relax—
“So, it’s not you—it’s just the guys that you’re seeing?”
“Steve, can’t we just—”
“—no, we can’t,” Steve says, sitting up and looking at you with a careful expression. “Listen—I know you feel awkward talking about this with me but—I just—I care about you and I care about the way guys treat you. And if they’re not making you come, not taking the time to work out what you want, then they’re not treating you right. I—I just want to make sure that you know it’s not you that’s the problem here. It’s them.”
You swallow because, god, why did he have to be so caring? Why did he know the exact right thing to say? And why did you have the sudden urge to press your thighs together?
“I dunno,” you say finally, your throat a little dry for reasons that had everything to do with the man sitting right beside you. “What if—what if guys just can’t make me come? Like I’m too complicated down there or—”
“—stop right there,” Steve interrupts, not unkindly but in a firm sort of way that shuts you up almost instantly. “What did I just say? It’s not you. You said you can make yourself come so I promise you—you’re not the problem. They are. They’re being selfish. They need to—they need to take the time to learn what your body needs. Ask you what you like, how you respond to what they’re doing to you.”
It was good advice, genuinely. But all you could think about as you listened to Steve was what he’d be like in bed. If he would take the time to learn what your body needed, if he would ask you what you liked, if he’d watch—lips parted and eyes wide—as your body writhed beneath him, as your plushy walls squeezed around his—
“I don’t know Steve,” you say quietly, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth as you try not to think too hard about the image you had of Steve’s head between your thighs, of his lips wet with your slick dripping down to his chin. “I don’t know if it’s just that. I mean—it’s not like what they’re doing is really bad because I get close, I—it’s like right before I get there—I just seize up or something.”
Steve listens carefully, his attention solely on you as you try your best to explain the issue and when you’re done, he takes a few seconds to mull over what you had just told him.
“These guys,” Steve begins, hazel eyes flickering between yours as he studies your expression. “Do you trust them?”
“What?” You ask, a little confused at the question. “I don’t know what you—”
“—do you trust them?” Steve repeats the question, not elaboration or clarification—just a small quirk of his brow as he waits for you to respond. “Do you trust them enough to let yourself go completely?”
The question takes you by surprise and you want to say yes—but the word dies on your tongue and the lack of a response was enough of an answer for Steve. He looks at you for a moment too long, hazel eyes studying you as though he was trying to look inside your brain.
“Do you trust me?”
You don’t even think as you nod—because of course you trusted Steve. You trusted him with your life. After everything that had happened in Hawkins, it was hard not to.
“Of course I—”
“—then make yourself come in front of me.”
The silence that greeted Steve’s words was deafening. You stare at him, eyes wide as you let his words truly sink in. You let yourself come to terms with the fact that you weren’t having some strange sex dream. That your good friend and guy you occasionally had inappropriate thoughts had just asked you to make yourself come in front of him.
“Why?” You ask him finally because though you were shocked—there was a large part of you that didn’t want to say no to his offer.
“I just—I think it might help,” Steve shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant but you notice the way the tips of his ears redden. “I mean sex is pretty fucking vulnerable so you might just need an experience with someone you trust who cares about you. So you know it’s okay to—to let go in front of someone.”
The way he says it—with so much care in his voice that it almost makes you forget about the whole making yourself come in front of him thing. He makes it sound so sweet that you find yourself lost for words again.
“You think it’s weird,” Steve says, shifting away an inch or so away from you on the couch—in your state of shock you had barely noticed that he had begun to inch closer to you. “I know, I know, I shouldn’t have—”
“—n-no, no, no,” you stutter out before you could stop yourself with a subtle shake of your head. “I mean—yeah, it’s weird but—as you said I-I trust you.”
Steve blinks and then—seems to realise that you weren’t completely disgusted by his proposal and sits up a little straighter on the couch.
“Really? You—you’d want to try and—”
“—yes,” you say before he could finish his sentence because you were feeling incredibly turned on by the thought of Steve watching you touch yourself and you didn’t want to let rational thought creep in now. “It could help and if it doesn’t then—”
“—then we just forget it ever happened,” he finishes with a quick nod. “Yeah, totally. Like it never happened.”
You look at each other then, apparently both waiting for the other to back out. But when neither of you do, Steve visibly swallows as he stands up from his couch, holding out his hand out for you to take..
“You wanna—go somewhere more comfortable?”
Steve’s bedroom was surprisingly tidy considering the fact he hadn’t been expecting company. Still, there’s some clothes strewn across his bed that Steve makes quick work of tidying up.
“Sorry,” he mutters as he dumps the clothes onto his desk before gesturing towards his bed for you to sit down.
You glance down at his bed before you look back at him. Because now you felt nervous—now you were thinking about lying on his sheets and fingering yourself in front of him. And perhaps you were just starting to realise how insane that would be and—
“Hey.”
You feel one of Steve’s large hands on your arm and it pulls you back to reality. You hadn’t even realised that you had been staring blankly down at his plaid sheets, already too in your own head about what was about to happen. Steve’s gentle touch, his fingertips brushing over your skin help to ground you—remind you that this wasn’t a stranger you had met at a bar or someone you had been set up with by a mutual friend. This was Steve. Your good, totally platonic friend, Steve.
“You’re okay,” he says gently, thumb rubbing gentle circles in your skin and unknowingly turning your insides into goo. “I’m gonna put on some music, okay? Help you relax a bit. Just take a seat.”
You listen because you did not know what else to do, sitting on the very edge of his bed and watching as he walks over to his vinyl player perched on top of a chest of drawers. You continue to watch him from the back as he sorts through the small stack of vinyls he had, apparently trying to find the perfect record.
A few moments later, the sound of Baby Now That I’ve Found You by the Foundations starts to play and you feel your shoulders visibly relax before Steve turns around to look at you.
“Really?” You ask him with a faint smile. “Is this you trying to set the mood?”
“That obvious, huh?” Steve asks you as he steps towards the bed—towards you.
You watch him, your lips parting as he stands a foot or so away from you now. The room feels five times smaller as Steve’s eyes are on you.
“What if it doesn’t work?” You ask Steve suddenly. “What if there’s something wrong if me or—”
Steve cuts you off by saying your name and the way he says it steals the air from your lungs.
“There is nothing wrong with you,” Steve says firmly, as though he believed every syllable. “Absoluetly nothing.”
You nod, choosing to believe him as you look at his face, the smooth voices of the Foundations putting you a little more at ease. “Okay so—we’re doing this. Okay. Are you just going to watch me or—”
You stop when you see Steve shaking his head. Your body suddenly feels hot, as though all the blood in your body had been replaced by fire. It was almost as though it seemed to know what Steve was going to say before he said it.
“No,” Steve says in a low voice that goes straight to your aching centre. “You’re going to show me. And I’ll show you.”
Everything became very still after that. The both of you just looked at each other—your chest heaving and his eyes flickering over your face as though trying to find any hint of uncertainty. You wanted to be the one to make the first move and you almost do, your fingers curling into the sheets beneath you as you build up the courage to do so. But before you could find the hem of your t-shirt, Steve begins to lift up his top.
The first flash of his soft stomach, of his happy trail and you seemed to forget how to breathe. God, he was gorgeous. Moles and freckles were dotted over his skin, there was a generous smattering of hair over his chest that made your thighs press together and you wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through it. In truth, you could have looked at him for hours.
But instead, you take a deep breath before you very slowly get to your feet.
Steve is watching you carefully as you begin to lift up your own shirt. His eyes on you should have made you feel self conscious, should have made you think twice of the very unsexy bra you were wearing, should have made you think of all the parts of yourself you didn’t like. But there was something about the way he was looking at you as you let your shirt fall to the floor that made you feel the very opposite of self conscious.
And so, before you could second guess yourself—you made the next move before him.
Your fingers fiddle momentarily with the button of your jeans before you unzip them, the sound making Steve’s eyes widen slightly. And when you begin to tug your jeans down over your hips and then your thighs, leaving you in just your mismatched underwear, you watch in fascination as a faint blush creeps up Steve’s neck.
You step out of your jeans, not looking away from Steve for even a second so you didn’t miss a single facial expression. So that you didn’t miss the way the flush had crept up his cheeks and right up to the very tips of his ears, how his breathing had started to become shallow.
“You look—”
“—don’t,” you say, surprised to find that your voice was barely a whisper.
“Why not?” He asks gently, head tilting to the side as he begins to unbuckle his belt.
You lick your lips, eyes still on his face but desperately wanting to shift lower to watch as he unzips his jeans.
“Becuase I might think that you’re just saying it to make me feel better,” you say. “Considering what we’re about to do.”
“I would never lie about how beautiful I think you are,” Steve says simply, his eyes still on you as he finally pulls his jeans down.
You barely have a moment to comprehend Steve calling you beautiful before you catch sight of him in only his boxers. He was—shit, he was perfect. You let your eyes dip down to feast on his delicious thighs, his boxers that had a large, noticeable tent in them that made your core throb.
Your throat felt dry, you didn't quite know what to do. All you knew is that Steve Harrington was hard just by looking at you. The thought sends a hot surge through your body, as though every damn nerve was suddenly burning beneath your skin. And perhaps it was that thought—the idea that you had made Steve hard without really doing anything—that you reached carefully behind you to unclip your bra.
Steve visibly swallows as your breasts spill out, finally seeing your hardened peaks as you let your bra fall to the floor alongside your t-shirt and jeans.
There was a beat and then—
He begins to tug down his boxers.
You had imagined what Steve Harrignton’s cock would look like more times than you cared to admit. But every mental image you had conjured up was nothing—nothing—compared to what was standing to attention right in front of you. His cock was long, thick and heavy, so heavy in fact it had made an audible sound when it had slapped against his soft tummy. His cock was beautiful—he was beautiful. Slightly curved in a way that you knew was made for hitting that spot inside of you just right. The ruddy tip of his cock was already leaking precum, which you shamelessly watch drool along a vein bulging along his length. Your mouth felt incredibly dry as you ogled the sheer size of him, imagining what it would be like for his thick cock to split you open—
You come to your senses just enough to discard your panties. They stick to your cunt briefly due to how fucking drenched you already were and Steve notices—his bottom lip between his teeth as he marvels at how your lips cling to the fabric before giving way, his cock twitching when he sees the damp patch your wetness had caused.
And there you both were, both finally completely bare in front of one another for the first time. Both looking shamelessly at the other’s body, both clearly desperate to touch the other but not dare to do so.
And then, without a word to each other, you sink back down onto his bed while Steve reaches blindly behind him to pull out his desk chair.
It was only now beginning to feel real, as you look at Steve’s face at the same time he looks at you.
“Still with me?” He asks you breathlessly.
You take your time to answer, spreading your legs a little wider and watching with immense satisfaction as his eyes flicker down to your soaked pussy. Another surge of something hot like molten lava surges through you as you notice the way his hand twitches towards his cock.
“Yeah,” you breathe out. “Still with you.”
You could have looked at each other for hours, days even. But your pussy was clenching around nothing and more precum dribbled out of Steve’s cock and you both knew you couldn’t wait any longer.
Steve moved first, one of his large hands wrapping around his thick cock before giving himself one, two gentle strokes. The sound of his own precum wetting his cock was obscene and it was that noise that made you trail your fingers delicately over the skin of your inner thigh before making contact with the soaked, sensitive flesh between your legs.
The relief was instant. You felt your entire body relax, your eyelids flutter for a brief moment before you made sure to look back at Steve. He was already watching you and for a moment you just smile at each other—almost shyly despite the situation—before you both focus back on pleasuring yourselves.
Your fingers glide easily through your folds, your slick allowing you to plunge two fingers inside of yourself. A breathy moan left your lips before you could stop it. You were almost embarrassed by it but then you notice the way Steve’s jaw clenches at the sound, the way he squeezes his cock a little bit tighter.
His words—his filthy fucking words—go right through you. Your cunt clenches around your fingers and you briefly wonder if you had died and gone to heaven, if Steve Harrington was really dirty talking to you right now.
“C’mon pretty girl,” Steve grits out as he pumps his dick that little bit faster, eyes not leaving yours. “Don’t hold back. Please, baby. Don’t you dare hold back on me.”
You could barely believe it, the words that were falling from his lips, the pet names he had just called you. But you didn’t question it—too busy fucking yourself with your slick fingers as you let out another soft, almost pornographic moan.
“That’s it,” Steve murmurs, the schlick, schlick, schlick of him fucking his fist filling the room as he watching your soaked fingers move in and out of your needy hole like it was the best damn thing he had ever seen. “Soak your fingers f’me. That’s so fucking hot.”
You let out a whimper at that, his words having such an impact on you that your hips buck upwards to meet your fingers, your eyes fluttering again as pleasure floods into every pore over your skin.
“Steve,” you mewl out as your fingers pump in and out of your hole, your breasts bouncing with each and every thrust. “Fuck, Steve. Feels so fucking good.”
Steve hadn’t been expecting you to dirty talk but god, had it been the most welcome surprise.
“Yeah? Gonna make yourself come for me, sweet girl?” Steve asks you, now pumping his dick frantically as he watches you roll your hips against his bed—your slick soaking his sheets. “Gonna get my bed all wet? Make me smell you on my sheets for days?”
You whimper and nod desperately as you curl your fingers, hitting that spongey spot inside of you that had you mewling out yet again.
“Gonna touch your clit for me?” Steve asks you, breathing heavily as he tries to hold back as the sight of you pleasuring yourself on his bed was suddenly becoming too much for him. “C’mon, please. Wanna see you lose it, baby.”
It was like Steve knew exactly what you needed, almost as though he knew your body better than you did without even touching it.
Your other hand—the one that had been curled into the sheets beneath you—journeys to between your legs. And that first brush of your fingertip over your swollen, arching clit had you seeing stars. You’re pretty sure you moan out Steve’s name but it also could have been nonsense. All you could focus on was Steve’s own pleasure dancing across his face and the dual sensation of your fingers plunging in and out of your soaked cunt and the other that was circling around your clit.
Pleasure was consuming you—it was white hot and you could feel it pulsing in every nerve in your body. You could feel the blood in your veins burning as the coil in your gut was pulled tighter and tighter while you played with your swollen clit.
“That’s it,” Steve gasps out, his eyes only on you as you neared the edge. “C’mon, baby. Be a good girl and come for me. You can do it, I know you can.”
You wish that you could have held on, that you could have prolonged your pleasure by a few more seconds. But your orgasm had snuck up on you—crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your thighs shook, your toes curled and Steve’s name fell from your lips as you came all over your fingers, your juices soaking Steve’s bed.
And it was that—watching you finally trusting him enough to let yourself go completely that made Steve follow along right behind you. You watch in awe as his toes curl, as his stomach clenches and how his head tilts back against the back of the chair in ecstasy, his release spilling all over that soft tummy of his. Steve lets out a loud groan, followed by your name and you swear, you could have come for a second time from that sound alone.
You withdraw your fingers as you catch your breath, your chest heaving and body still buzzing after the intensity of your orgasm.
Finally, after taking a moment or two to prepare yourself, you finally look at Steve’s face. He was already looking at you and smiling.
“See,” he breathes out. “Nothing’s wrong with you. It’s all about trust.”
“Steve Harrington being right for once?” You say, smiling. “It must be a miracle.”
You both laugh and though you both clean up, get dressed and promise each other nothing will change between you—deep down you both knew that after tonight? Things would never be the same again..
Bucky pushed you on the bed before moving to kneel in between your legs, pushing them apart gently his eyes roamed over your body. Your body heats up from his intense gaze and the cool air on your bare clit, feeling exposed and overwhelmed in pleasure.
Bucky had leaned forward placing a trail of soft kisses along your inner though, working his way slowly as you squirmed under him desperate for more, today, he took his time slowly kissing that needing ache away he was determined to tease you
“Bucky please.” You let out a loud cry shifting you legs closer to his mouth pushing your foot just below his shoulder. He doesn’t say a word just looks up hazy with a smirk on his face focusing on your slick folds glistening with arousal kissing you lightly a low groan rumbling in his chest as the vibrations went to your clit making you close your eyes in pleasure
“You smell so good.” He murmured nuzzling himself further in your clit, without a preamble he slowly licked a stripe up your slit. Gasping you buck your hips into him further causing him to push his tongue deeper into your hole. He focused on how sensitive you were at the moment, swirling and flicking like his life depended on it, his hands keeping a grip on your inner thigh spreading them more, preventing you from closing you legs.
He was feasting on you like a starved man, toes curling and all, you were panting like you were out of breath due to the intense pleasure.
“Bucky oh my god, Buck-.” You plead letting his name out like a prayer.
“Doing so good f’me.” The only words he let out before inserting two fingers between you folds pumping them slowly pushing his tongue in once again. The dual stimulation had you seeing stars your inner walls tightening around him desperately
“That’s it baby, let go, yeah that's it.” He encouraged between licks, “wanna feel you on my tongue.” His words sent you over the edge. You fried out sharply, you body convulsing as ecstasy crashed through you like a wave, but Bucky didn’t let up. Continuing to lap at your clit, making out with it practically, and teasingly biting your nub making you jolt.
He swallowed every drop of your release groaning satisfied, he sealed his mouth over your pussy once more making out with it, as he pulled back a thin strand of saliva stretched between his lips and you now sensitive folds, the clear liquid dribbling down your clit glistening in the lowlight
Bucky’s eyes met yours once again, dark with desire and satisfaction. “You taste so good,” his voice rumbled, sending shivers down your spine. “Could do this all day and never get bored.”
Summary: Dean jerks off while you pretend to sleep.
Content warning: Reader gives Dean a massage, explicit language, male masturbation, handjobs, spitting, cum eating, she calls him good boy one time
wc: 1.8k
“That feels- fuck- that feels amazing.”
Dean bows his head, leaning back into your hands, as they knead the knotted muscles of his shoulders. The lotion you’d smeared across the expanse of his upper back and arms makes his skin look dewy. Your hands glide along the contours of his body, looking so small in comparison to his figure.
He lifts his head, letting it fall back to rest against your shoulder as your fingers dig into the lean, striated muscle of his pectorals. His eyes are closed.
“You really are an angel, sweetness.” He drawls slowly. “Y’too good to me.”
“Shh,” You coo softly, hands now caressing the slope of his neck. “Just relax,”
“‘F’I relax any more, I’m gonna pass out.”
You pretty much feel the same way. It’d been an action packed few days, allowing minimal time for rest, and now you’re both heavily fatigued. Your body feels much older than it is. After showering and brushing your teeth, giving some attention to your needy man is the last thing on your to-do list before knocking out for a good ten hours. You can hardly keep your eyelids open, but every one of Dean’s appreciative moans convinces you to continue.
“That’s okay,” You assure him gently, purposefully grazing your lips against the shell of his ear. His spine straightens at the touch of your lips, shuddering slightly. “We’ll finish here. Then we can sleep,” You press a firmer kiss just behind his ear, smiling to yourself as he stiffens at the contact, groaning deeply as your fingers continue to massage his flesh.
Truthfully, you’re tired, but the game you’re playing with him is entertaining enough to turn what was supposed to be a quick five minute massage into a twenty minute one. Since the moment you’d laid your hands on his bare skin, he’d been growing harder and harder, and now, you were having fun pretending to be oblivious to the very noticeable bulge in his sweatpants.
“Don’t wanna sleep.” He argues, the slightest bit of petulance creeping into his tone. He turns to face you, regarding you with bleary, sleepy green eyes. “Want you.”
You peck his very pretty, pouty lips, finishing your massage with a little squeeze around his waist. Standing to go wash the residual lotion from your hands, Dean turns to watch you.
“No happy ending?” He jokes halfheartedly, but his eyes glimmer as he looks at you from under his lashes, exposing that underneath the guise of humor, he really is asking.
“M’sorry, handsome,” You murmur apologetically. “I’m dead on my feet.”
“‘Least let me return the favor,” He suggests, as you’re sliding underneath the sheets, wearing only one of his shirts and your panties.
“Tomorrow,” Your cheek is already on your pillow.
He slides under the blankets behind you, molding his chest to the shape of your back, fitting snugly, like an old weathered baseball glove. Eyes closed, you sigh at the comfort of his body against you. He slings a thick, heavy arm around your hips, guiding your ass back to press securely against his crotch. You bite back a smile at his less than covert attempts to entice you, shifting his hips so that the undeniable outline of his engorged cock is nestled right against your core.
You stay still, committed to the act that you’re unaffected by any of his antics, but you’re growing hot underneath the covers. You’d already been turned on by just rubbing his body, were wet the instant you noticed his boner, and now, as he subtly creates friction between your bodies, you suddenly aren’t so tired.
“Baby,” He complains in your ear, hands sliding from your hips, to your waist, then teasing just below your breasts. “Y’gotta gimme something here. Feels like I’ve been waitin’ to get you alone for weeks-”
“-It’s only been a few days.” You say without turning to look at him.
“Exactly-”
“I think you’ll live if I make you wait until tomorrow,” You say.
You only haven’t ended his misery because you want to see how far you can push him, and it turns you on when he begs. Plus, his sweet, desperate disposition is something private, saved only for you, in moments when you’re alone. In the quiet moments with you, he’s a very different man than he pretends to be with everyone else.
“Cruel woman,” He sighs. You get the sense that he might be giving up, as his arm returns around your hips.
“Thought you said I was an angel," You tease
"That was when you were being nice to me."
You huff. "I'll be nicer after I sleep.'
You relax against him, and even though you’re doggedly tired, his erection is still probing you between your thighs, stoking heat in your lower belly that’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Still, you keep yourself still in his arms, and squeeze your eyes tightly shut any time he shifts against you. He moves occasionally, readjusting his grip on you, repositioning his body, but stays quiet.
“Baby?” Dean whispers gently, several minutes later. Or maybe it’s been an hour. “Baby, you awake?
You’d been dozing, but at the sound of his voice, you rouse. You don’t answer because you’re intrigued by the diffidence in his tone.
Dean’s arm tightens around you, using his grip on you to once again create friction between your bodies. His breathing strikingly deepens, and every so often, he groans weakly. If the movement of him sliding against you wasn’t enough to have you pulsing between your legs, his noises would do the job. He sounds almost ashamed. It’s clear he’s trying to be quiet, but he’s doing a poor job of concealing his arousal.
You feel him wedge a hand between his groin and your ass, rubbing himself through his pants. You want to look, but part of you believes he would stop if he realized you were awake. You wonder if the front of his sweats are wet yet, if he’s gritting his teeth or if he’s open mouth panting. Heat radiates from his chest, and you feel the instant he breaks out in a sweat from his ministrations.
Very carefully, as to not wake you, he lifts his arm off your body and rolls onto his back. You fight to keep your own breathing even, to keep yourself from squeezing your thighs together, as you hear him start to jerk off.
It begins quietly, with the soft, barely audible evidence of him letting saliva fall from his mouth onto his palm. Then he wraps a hand around himself, and you hear the spread of moisture as he begins pumping his fist up and down. The sound of his hand beating his cock is largely overpowered by his breathing and the moans he’s failing to swallow, until he seems to lose control of himself and really starts pumping himself hard and fast.
You picture him, holding his stiff member in one hand, playing with his balls with the other. Picture him rubbing at the head of his cock until he can’t take it, mimicking the way you always torture him with special attention to his most sensitive spots.
“Just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” You scold in a quiet voice, turning towards him.
Dean startles with a grunt, his hand flying away from his cock, as if it wasn’t obvious what he’d been doing with it resting against his lower belly. He looks away from you, then back, bowing his head shamefully.
“D-didn’t-” He clears his throat. “Didn’t mean to wake you, princess.”
You roll onto your side beside him, placing a hand on the bit of his thigh exposed from where his sweats had been hastily pushed down.
When you don’t say anything, he keeps stammering. “I’m sorry-”
“Shh,” You whisper gently, grazing his thigh with the points of your nails. You suppress a smirk at the way the muscle of his leg jumps at your teasing touch, his cock bobbing untouched. “Keep going, big boy.”
He hesitates, so you wrap one of your smaller hands around the base of his cock. He immediately gasps, his head lolling back against the headboard. He begins panting again as he watches you bring your lips just above the head of him. You let a substantial string of saliva slip from your lips, onto his aching tip, smiling as he moans above you.
His jaw falls open when you start twisting your fist around him, spreading the lubricant generously from tip to base, so that he’s nice and wet.
“Keep going, baby,” You encourage, lifting yourself enough to take his face in your hands. You peck his lips, ending the kiss with a little sharp bite to his bottom lip that has him groaning and chasing after your lips when you pull back.
“Keep going-” He repeats, as if dazed.
“Yeah,” You say with a smile, caressing his jaw. “You wanna cum, don’t you?”
“Yeah-” He agrees, letting you take his hand. You bring his hand back between his legs, and you greedily watch as he grips himself, and then starts moving.
“How bad do y’wanna come, Dean?” You whisper sensually, maintaining eye contact with him in the dark. His breath fans across your lips, his eyelids heavy from the degree of his lust.
“Bad- so fuckin’ bad-” He rasps and it sounds like a plea.
“I bet,” You purr, letting your hands roam across his neck and shoulders. “Been such a good boy, waiting so well. I know you tried, baby.”
He grits his teeth, hand moving in a blur as he jerks himself, chest heaving. “I did- Tried to ignore it. For you-”
“It’s okay, baby. Know you need it real bad.”
He nods, expression broken as he keeps going.
“Can’t even handle my hands on you without getting hard,” You muse lovingly. “S’a little bit pathetic, right?”
“Fuck-” He groans, voice strangled. “I know-”
"And jerking off while your girlfriend is right next to you...is that pathetic, baby?"
"Yes-" He chokes out.
“You sound close,” You whisper. “Are you close, baby? Gonna make yourself cum? Wishing you were inside me instead?”
“Wanna make you feel good,” He mumbles. “God-M’so close.”
“Cum for me, Dean,” You beg, sliding back down level with his lap. “Wanna see how much cum you have for me,”
He begins shuddering, groaning from deep in his chest. He tells you he’s coming and it sounds like he’s panicked. You manage to get your plump lips around the head of him, your tongue immediately flooded with the heady taste of him. You suck at him for barely a second before he begins spurting into your mouth, the jets of his cum steadily hitting the back of your throat. He’s gripping your hair harshly, and you might register the pain of it, if you weren’t concentrating on swallowing burst after burst of his spend.
You swallow it all, then lick his cockhead clean until he’s jumping at the simple touch of your hot tongue. You lick your lips clean next and then nestle yourself back under his arm, while he's still sweaty and panting.
“That should hold you off until the morning, right?” You ask playfully.
“Yeah, I’d say so.”
You both make yourselves comfortable in the bed and fall asleep within five minutes flat.
Dean Winchester thinks your lips are incredibly sweet when he kisses you in the backseat of his Impala. His warm hands grip your hips firmly as he slides his tongue into your mouth, as if he didn’t want to pull away from you for even a single second. His kiss is soft yet passionate; he devours you eagerly while his fingers tangle in the strands of your hair. You can’t help it, you gasp between kisses, thinking that his lips are also irresistibly sweet.
Your skin burns under his breath as his kisses trail down your neck. He leaves a scorching trail of purple hickeys that spread from the hollow of your collarbone to your shoulder, stripping you of your clothes along the way. Your trembling hands join his as he tries to unbutton your jeans.
“Don’t be scared, baby. I’m gonna treat you real good, I promise. We won’t do anything you don’t want.” He murmurs while trailing kisses from the center of your chest down to your stomach, his hands cupping the soft curves of your waist. “That’s it, you’re my perfect girl.”
His face sinks between your thighs, pressing right over your underwear. The pulse of your clit throbs wildly beneath where his lips rest, drawing a gasp from you. He still doesn’t do anything more, just teases by leaving slow kisses over your wet panties, creating a damp spot in the center that you don’t know if it comes from his lips or from how soaked you are.
His hands grip your thighs firmly, spreading your legs wide open and leaving you completely exposed before his voracious green eyes, still covered by your underwear. The cold of his ring sends a shiver through you that raises the sensitive skin of your thighs. The mix of sensations overwhelms you, so with a weak moan, you simply beg him to continue. You just want him to go further.
“Do you want more?” he asks softly. His hands grab your underwear and slide it slowly down your thighs. “Look at that, sweetheart. You’re dripping all over the seat. Your pretty pussy is making a mess. Let me see you…”
You whimper in surprise as he lowers his face to the inside of your thighs. His bright eyes look up at you with intense hunger, like a starving puppy begging for permission. You nod desperately. Only then does he move in, burying his face in your soaked pussy.
He devours you like a hungry man, but with control. It’s not rough or rushed—it’s precise and experienced, like he knows exactly where to lick and suck to make you lose your mind. His tongue eagerly traces your folds, spreading them apart. The area is so sensitive it makes you arch your back, especially when he deliberately avoids your throbbing clit, which is aching for his mouth.
“Fuck…” He lifts his head for a moment, showing you his dilated pupils and those beautiful glassy eyes, along with his perfect lips glistening with your juices. “The most delicious pussy I’ve tasted in my whole fucking life. You’re perfect… so sweet for me.”
summary: you and SOLDIER BOY were always fighting, until one night he decided to break your tough act and put you in your place, showing you exactly what a brat like you deserves.
after butcher and mm managed to unfreeze soldier boy, the safehouse became a total living hell. the team quickly realized he was way too unstable to be left alone, and since butcher, mm, hughie, and frenchie were always out chasing leads on vought, the annoying job of babysitting this piece of shit fell right into your lap. what followed was a routine of pure mutual hatred.
on that specific tuesday afternoon, the heat inside the house was unbearable. frenchie and hughie had gone out to get food, and butcher was locked in the office with mm, screaming about something on the computer screen.
in the living room, ben was sprawled on the couch, wearing just some old grey sweatpants and a white tank top that showed off his thick, massive arms. he held a beer bottle in his right hand and a lit cig in the other, letting the ash drop straight onto the floor.
"ben, i've told you a hundred times not to ash on the floor. i just cleaned this room," you said, standing right in front of him with your hands on your hips, glaring daggers at him.
he didn't even flinch. he took another long drag, holding the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds before blowing it right in your face. you coughed, waving the air with your hand, your face turning red with anger.
"and i already told you i don't take orders from kids, brat," he answered, his voice deep and dragged out, full of that typical arrogance you were so sick of. "in my day, girls like you knew their place. they cleaned up the mess without complaining and kept their mouths shut when a man was relaxing."
"your day is gone! you're just a sexist idiot who spent years frozen and now you're useless, just drinking all day and having those explosive tantrums," you snapped back, taking a step forward, trying to hold your ground even though you knew he could crush you with one hand.
ben let out a loud laugh, shifting his posture on the couch. he leaned his elbows on his knees and looked at you from head to toe, his eyes narrowed as he took in your expression of pure hatred. he found it fascinating. seeing you gesturing, stomping your foot, and losing your mind over his teasing was the best part of his day. his pride would never let him admit what he felt seeing you stand up to him, so he turned everything into humiliation.
"look at you. think you scare anyone with that angry face, little girl?" he scoffed, standing up and towering over you. he reached out and patted your cheek mockingly. "you gotta respect your elders, brat. if i want to throw ash on the floor, on the table, or on your face, i will. and you're gonna clean it."
"get your hands off me, you idiot!" you yelled, slapping his hand away. "i loathe you. everyone here only puts up with you because they need your strength against homelander, but the second this is over, i'll make sure to kick you out myself."
the argument was getting loud enough to echo through the halls. the office door banged open and butcher appeared at the top of the stairs with his usual scowl, holding a pack of smokes.
"what the hell is all this noise down here?" butcher roared, stepping down the stairs, his heavy boots thudding against the floor. "i'm trying to work and you two sound like dogs fighting over a bone. girl, i gave you one simple job: keep him quiet inside the house. is it really that hard?"
"he's throwing ash everywhere and treating me like a maid!" you complained, pointing at ben, hoping for some support.
ben took another sip of his beer, looking at butcher with a smirk. "your nanny is a crybaby, man. can't take a joke. in my time, women had thicker skin. this generation today is made of sugar, the slightest thing and they wanna cry and scream."
butcher let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. he had zero patience for this. "i don't give a shit whose fault it is."
"but..." you tried to protest.
"no buts, fuckin' fix it," butcher cut you off, turning around and heading back up to the office, slamming the door hard.
when silence returned to the room, you looked at ben and he had the biggest, smug bastard smile on his face. he set the beer on the coffee table with a thud and leaned back on the couch, locking his hands behind his head, savoring your defeat.
"see that, little girl?" he whispered, his voice smooth and venomous. "even your friend knows you're just a spoiled brat making a drama out of everything. now, do me a favor. go to the kitchen and get me another beer. and try not to cry on the way, yeah?"
you clenched your fists so hard your nails almost cut your skin. the hatred you felt for this man was overflowing, and the amusement in his eyes only made it worse. you knew he was doing it on purpose, of course you knew. he always did everything to get under your skin, and he always succeeded, damn it.
later that week, things in the house got even tighter. the place wasn't actually that big; it was a well-hidden underground structure so vought wouldn't find you.
since you were the only girl in the group, mm and frenchie had insisted you deserved some privacy and dignity. they agreed you'd get the only single bedroom in the house, while the men shared the other rooms and makeshift beds. ben, of course, complained at the time, saying it was ridiculous for him to be cramped while a brat got a whole room to herself, but butcher told him to shut the fuck up.
things changed on a thursday night. starlight showed up out of nowhere, wearing a heavy coat to disguise herself, desperate to see hughie. they were going through a rough patch with vought and she needed a safe place to crash away from the spotlight. hughie was so nervous, pacing back and forth in the kitchen, it was almost sad to watch.
you looked at hughie, who was staring at you with those puppy-dog eyes, and let out a long sigh. you liked them and knew how hard the situation was. "it's fine, hughie. she can stay in my room with you tonight. i'll grab some blankets and sleep on the living room couch, no problem."
"seriously? wow, thank you so much, for real.” hughie said, looking like he was gonna cry tears of relief, while annie gave you a quick, grateful hug.
later, you went upstairs and grabbed your jammies—a pair of short cotton shorts and an old t-shirt—along with a pillow and a blanket. when you came down to set things up on the couch, you ran straight into ben coming out of the kitchen. he was finishing a beer and stopped in his tracks, watching you carry your stuff with that heavy, lingering gaze of his.
ben took the last gulp of his beer, set the empty bottle on the counter, and checked you out from head to toe, noticing your short jammies. his eyes lingered on your legs and the outline of your chest under the t-shirt.
"goodnight to you too, little girl.” he rumbled in his deep, dragged-out voice, letting out a short, mocking chuckle from the corner of his mouth as he walked past you.
he didn't say anything else, just turned his back and walked up the steps slowly, heading toward the bedrooms upstairs. you exhaled, relieved he hadn't started another fight, and started fixing the blanket and pillow on the couch.
after lying down and pulling the blanket over yourself, silence finally took over the house. the exhaustion from a stressful day made you fall into a deep sleep quickly.
the living room was almost pitch black, broken only by the grey streaks of moonlight cutting through the blinds. you were totally vulnerable there, curled up on the couch, having no idea that at the top of the stairs, the door to the room ben was sleeping in opened without making a single sound.
he walked down the steps slowly, barefoot, wearing only those loose grey sweatpants. he hadn't come down for water or a smoke. he came down specifically to see you. his pride, shaped by decades of being america's greatest hero, would never let him admit it out loud, but the image of you sleeping in the living room in those short pajamas had been hammering his brain all night. he felt an overwhelming, violent, suffocating urge for you, something that made him furious because he couldn't control it. he hated the fact that a girl who stood up to him every day had so much power over his thoughts.
he stopped right next to the couch, arms crossed over his broad chest, just watching the shape of your body in the dark. ben couldn't resist. the need to possess, to touch, and to break your tough attitude spoke way louder. with calculated slowness, he knelt on the floor, his face inches from yours.
his large, calloused hand reached out to your exposed leg, tracing up your skin before sliding under your shirt. centimeters by centimeter, he pulled the light fabric up with torturous care, exposing your chest to the cold air. your nipples hardened instantly, and ben swallowed hard, staring at your soft skin.
his pants were already tight, but he forced himself to hold back from sucking you right then so he wouldn’t wake you up.
the sudden chill and the weight of his hand finally woke you. your eyes fluttered open to see ben looming over you, his fingers against your bare skin.
shock hit you like electricity. you gasped, trying to scramble back and push his chest away, but ben instantly pinned you down. with terrifying speed, he locked both your wrists above your head with one hand, while his other hand slapped over your mouth, smothering your scream.
he shook his head slowly, looking down at your wide, terrified eyes with a cold, dominant stare.
"shh... quiet, doll. you don't want to wake up the whole house and have them see you like this, do you?" he whispered darkly against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
you thrashed beneath him, trying to kick, but his strength was an iron press. seeing your panic, his expression softened into something purely manipulative. "calm down... relax, sweetheart. look at me," he murmured, loosening the pressure on your mouth just enough but keeping his fingers close. "you're so beautiful. a perfect little thing."
tears of pure fear spilled down your cheeks. ben shook his head, feigning disappointment. "no, no. don't cry, baby. I'm not gonna hurt you, you know that. I just wanted to talk." he used that calm, steady voice to break your resistance and make you feel small. "you know this is your fault, right? you're a tease. walking around this house all day in those tiny shorts... it's disrespectful to the men here. you kept me wound up all day, parading around. I couldn't resist."
his words twisted your mind, making you feel a sudden wave of guilt. he leaned into your neck, inhaling deeply. "I've been starving for you since the day they defrosted me. I always wanted you for myself. you have no idea how pissed I got whenever you laughed at frenchie’s stupid jokes or talked late with butcher. I wanted to break their faces. because I'm the one who's supposed to hold you. you're mine."
the heavy manipulation confused your fear with an overwhelming sense of submission. you always acted tough during the day, but being helpless under the most powerful man in the house completely broke your facade.
ben saw you hesitate. he gently stroked your wet cheek, his eyes dropping lower. "let me fuck you, doll... daddy's gonna take such good care of you. promise you'll be a good girl, hm?"
you shook your head in a panic reflex, biting your lips so hard you almost bled, your whole body shaking. "i... i'm a virgin, ben... no. please... don't."
ben froze. he closed his eyes for a few seconds, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself. his jaw clenched.
fuck, you were untouched. that piece of info just made his desire explode to dangerous levels. the idea of being the only one, of completely corrupting your innocence, was the peak of everything he wanted. he opened his eyes, locking them onto yours with a predatory intensity. "virgin..." he rasped. "okay. listen to me, little girl... i’ll be careful, but you gotta to let me in. you want this, i know you do. let your man show you how it feels. accept it, baby?”
completely manipulated and driven by panic and the sweet ache you felt when he confessed his obsession, you ended up nodding your head, crying softly. you accepted.
ben smirked, savoring your surrender. he leaned in and pressed his mouth to yours, starting a tense, deep kiss, mixing his taste with your tears. his massive hand gripped your nape firmly while his mouth traveled down your neck, leaving dark hickeys on your soft skin. mid-kiss, his large hand gripped the hem of your shirt and, with one firm tug, yanked it over your head, tossing it onto the floor.
only then did his hand grip the back of your neck, his mouth dragging down to your throat, leaving dark bruises on your soft skin. you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut and trying your best to stay quiet. now completely bare from the waist up, you shivered as ben moved lower, his hot tongue tracing down to your breasts. he took one pert nipple into his mouth, sucking hungrily while his other hand squeezed your opposite breast, leaving red marks under his touch.
"fuck, baby... your tits are so good," he growled against your skin. "perfect for daddy."
he continued down, licking your stomach slowly, making your entire body twitch and ache with anticipation. when he reached your hips, ben hooked his fingers into the waistband of both your shorts and panties, pulling them down your legs in one smooth motion and discarding them.
with you completely naked and vulnerable beneath him, your legs shook, but ben gripped your thighs firmly, forcing your hips open wide as he pinned himself between them. he looked up for a split second, admiring your flushed face and panting chest, before lowering his head and pressing his mouth straight against your untouched center.
the feeling of his tongue, hot and wet, against your sensitive skin made your hips tilt upward. you tried to close your legs out of pure bashful reflex, but his hands were like iron cuffs holding your thighs wide open, exposing all of you to him. ben started lapping from bottom to top, tracing your lips firmly, coating everything in his warm spit. the wet sounds his mouth made down there were loud in the silent room, making you die of embarrassment.
"no being shy now, yeah?" he muffled his words against your skin, his voice vibrating right on your clit, sending an electric shock through your spine. "answer me baby, you like having my mouth right here?"
you covered your face with your forearm, choking back a needy moan, tears still flowing but now mixed with a wave of pleasure you'd never felt before. "yes... yes, ben..." you confessed in a thread of a voice, your face burning. "please... keep going... it's so good."
hearing you beg like that, totally submissive to his control, was the exact fuel his ego and lust needed. ben caught your clit between his lips and started sucking hard, while the tip of his tongue flicked there in a fast, relentless rhythm. he alternated between licking your entrance and sucking your lips with a ravenous hunger, leaving you completely drenched.
and ben seemed determined to make it very clear how much he was enjoying finally getting what he wanted so badly. he proved it with small, muffled groans of satisfaction, his dedicated suction making wet noises fill the space, not to mention the way his fingertips dug into the skin of your hips in a clear demand for you to stay wide open.
"b—ben… this is so good. you're so good," you said softly between needy whimpers.
he started eating you out like he was starving, the wet sucking sounds getting even louder and driving you absolutely crazy.
your back arched with pleasure and your thin fingers gripped chunks of ben's hair with enough force to hurt, but he showed no bother and definitely didn't stop, only groaning and getting even more skillful with his mouth.
he pressed his lips hard against your clit, sucking intensely, making your hips twitch involuntarily on the couch. when he felt you were right on the edge, totally vulnerable and panting, he gripped your thighs tighter, moving his large fingers to massage your skin in circular motions.
slowly, he lifted his head, his eyes dark as they watched you writhe with your eyes closed, whimpers slipping from your mouth.
realizing he'd stopped, you opened your eyes and looked down, meeting his green eyes gleaming as they stared at you. you blinked slowly, trying to hide the disappointment before asking: "b—ben? why did you—"
"what would happen if one of the boys woke up to your loud little noises, hm?" you heard ben comment, his voice raspy, cutting you off. he started using his thumb to stimulate you in slow, torturating strokes, almost like a caress. "y'know... they'd come down to see what the noise is, and then they'd find you here, exactly like this, all open and dripping for me. imagine that, baby. they'd see that the complaining little brat is nothing but a helpless little slut, yeah?"
ben spoke those filthy words while lowering his head again, pressing his mouth back into your wet pussy. he alternated slow sucks on your clit with wet kisses on the inside of your thigh, making you even more sensitive. the humiliation of his words and the real fear of someone coming down the stairs sent such a heavy jolt of adrenaline through your body that your pussy started throbbing. you were completely turned on by the danger.
in a reflex of pure shame and denial of what you were feeling, you shook your head, whining softly, but your own body betrayed your mind. unable to resist the pleasure, you ended up tilting your hips up, pushing your pussy against his lips, silently begging him to keep eating you out.
feeling the shift of your hips and the way you surrendered to his touch, ben stopped abruptly. he raised his face, his eyes glinting with amusement.
"am i right? answer me.” he commanded in a deep voice, holding both your thighs tightly to keep you still.
you just shook your head again, trying to hide your face with your arm, lacking the courage to admit out loud how much that humiliation was exciting you.
seeing your stubborn silence, ben didn't hesitate. he raised his heavy hand and brought it down in a sharp smack right against your pussy, making a loud slap echo in the quiet of the dark living room. the impact of his palm against your sensitive, slick skin made you jolt on the couch, whimpering from the mix of sting and pleasure the strike caused, drawing tears from your eyes.
"you know you are, baby," he whispered cruelly and softly, leaning back over your trembling body and tracing his fingertips over the tender skin. "you're a helpless little slut, hm? we both know it, doll."
"y'know what?" he kept talking in a raspy voice, bringing his face close to your cunt, his hot breath making your skin goosebump all over. "even if they showed up... i wouldn't be able to stop. fuck 'em all."
he slid his hands up your thighs, digging his fingers hard into your flesh, making his control over you clear.
"you're so hot, my love... so irresistible with this soaked pussy, begging for me, that i just don't give a rat's ass. i wouldn't care one bit if i had to fuck you right in front of them to make it crystal clear who you belong to. i'd keep burying my tongue in you while they watched their precious little girl cry and groan in my ear."
your eyes widened and you felt yourself get even wetter, your thighs twitching with arousal as you forced yourself to keep your legs open for him. ben smirked as he caught your reaction to his words, going back to biting and sucking the inside of your thighs, sliding his fingertips up and down between the slick folds.
"imagine, me fucking you good and your idiot friends walking in right then?" ben asked raspily, spitting right onto your swollen clit, rubbing his fingers over it with a wet noise, watching fascinated as the little mound twitched under his touch. "would you like them to see you getting fucked by me, hm? would you like them to see me using you however i want?"
you closed your eyes for a moment and your slender fingers gripped his hair tightly, forcing yourself to hold back a whimper at ben's dirty talk. just as much as your face burned with embarrassment at the things ben said with such natural ease, you felt an undeniable pleasure where your pussy was getting even wetter and hungrier for his touch.
"d—don't keep saying those things," you whined, rubbing your hands over your hot face, then propping yourself up on one forearm so you could watch him, your chest panting up and down non-stop.
you felt the moment ben chuckled softly, going back to sucking you, causing those sharp, wet, delicious noises, his short beard tickling as he made a point to rub his face against you.
little by little, your body started giving those signs that you were gonna come soon. it was getting hot and tingling in that familiar way, and you were rubbing your feet against the couch in agony.
"ben… i—i feel weird," you said alertly, your fingers tangling back into his hair so you could see his green eyes. "i'm gonna… something. please," you groaned confusedly, not knowing exactly what you meant or what you were feeling. you groaned, opening your legs even wider, and ben stopped sucking you, but he spit on your pussy to rub it with his fingers in quick, agile circular motions.
"you want me to make you come, but you know only pussies that belong to daddy get to come, don't you? is your pussy mine, doll?" those words were enough to make your legs twitch and your back arch, your eyes rolling back under your lids.
"answer me, doll, who does it belong to? does it belong to daddy?"
"yes! yes it is," you said in agony, and ben shook his head no.
"yes what? belongs to who?"
"to daddy! it belongs to daddy, ben. it belongs to you." a sharp, excited cry caught in your throat when ben, seemingly satisfied with your answer, went back to sucking you slowly, leaving you coated in his spit.
as ben sucked you, his cheeks were slicked with the mix of his saliva and the cum pouring out of you, and his green eyes were locked, watching with interest the pleasurable expressions on your flushed, sweaty face, your pink mouth open in tearful, desperate whimpers. he knew the exact moment you were coming when suddenly your delicate little body started shaking all over in beautiful little spasms, trying for all you were worth to pull away from the extreme stimulation and close your legs so ben would stop.
while the orgasm dragged out, you weren't even aware of how you kept whimpering "daddy, daddy, daddy..." non-stop. and ben was persistent, his strong hands firmly gripping both your thighs so you'd keep them open, stopping you at all costs from pushing him away and preventing him from getting more of your sweet taste directly in his mouth.
and with all that extreme stimulation and you slowly coming down, tears pooled in your eyes and you started swatting your hands against ben's shoulders, crying out for him to stop because you couldn't take any more.
he finally stopped, pulling away from you with a loud, wet pop, panting heavily, a few strands of hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, his lips and beard glistening with spit everywhere, making quite a sight.
"you okay?" he asked carefully, and heard you whisper a yes. he leaned over your little body, practically covering you, propping both hands on the couch on either side of your head, starting to pepper kisses all over your face. "you sure?"
"uh-huh..." you said breathlessly, turning your face a bit more so he'd start kissing your mouth, tasting your own flavor on his lips.
"okay." ben whispered between the quick kisses.
he pulled back just a bit, enough to kneel between your open legs. calmly, ben gripped his massive, throbbing cock and pulled it out of his sweatpants, letting you see it right there in the dim living room. the sight of its size, gleaming slightly from being completely pre-wet, made you swallow hard. a pit in your stomach and a bit of fear took over your chest, making you shrug your shoulders against the couch.
noticing your hesitation, he tried to calm you down with a caress on your face. ben slotted his hips between your legs and you felt his cock brush against your wet entrance.
"it's okay, doll. look at daddy," he said in an extremely sweet, gentle voice, planting a wet kiss on your cheek.
"i don't know if i c-can take it, p-please don't do this."
you let out the words right before a whimper escaped your mouth from feeling his cock rubbing against you.
"you can, baby.” he said finally.
ben held his cock by the base and kept rubbing it up and down against you, feeling your entrance open every time he rubbed there. he knew he had to be careful, he really did. but he didn't want to, fuck. he was never careful when he fucked. he had a tendency to make it hurt, leave bruises, see the person cry until they couldn't take it anymore. but he had to try.
he noticed how hard it would be when he tried to put just the head of his cock into your tight opening, your body pushing him out at all costs. if he shoved it all in at once, he might end up killing you, damn it.
"fuck, try to relax." he said softly, running his fingers through your messy hair. "it won't hurt as much if you relax your body, okay? can you do that for me?"
you nodded slowly, wrapping your arms around his neck and clinging to his body like a koala.
ben tried one more time, having to look down, he very calmly started pushing just the head of his thick cock in, which could barely wait to shove the whole thing. you felt yourself stretch as ben slowly pushed, and in the same second, you let out a gasp mixed with a sharp cry, the kind where the sound gets cut off by a lack of air.
"fuck baby, you're so tight," ben whispered in your ear, feeling you scratch his back in pure desperation.
"ben!" you groaned his name way too loud, not even having half of him inside you yet. "take it out, p-please."
"i didn't even put it all in, baby," he said, laughing at your face which was contorted in pain. "you're gonna take it."
ben slid out of you, causing a wet suction sound. he grabbed both your legs and bent your knees, leaving you wide open and vulnerable. his hands held tight right in the crook of your knee and thigh, leaving you exposed and easy to enter.
you felt a wave of relief when you didn't have his weight hurting you anymore, even though you wanted it badly. and that relief completely vanished when ben rammed his entire cock into your tight heat.
you were caught off guard, totally off guard.
before you could let out the first cry of pain from the impact, ben lunged forward with his palm and clamped your mouth shut hard, completely muffling your sounds in the dark room.
ben buried his cock deep inside you with force, groaning raspy in your ear, feeling the tightness all around him.
"so tight, fuck," he groaned heavily, bending your legs even more.
he started taking deep, hard thrusts, making your entire body shake on the couch.
your eyes were wide open, staring at him, filled with tears, panic, and shock. while your trembling hands tried to push his rigid chest and your head shook no, a silent plea for him to stop.
but he was infinitely stronger and took advantage of every second of your weakness, using your little body like it was just a hole for his pleasure, taking out the hatred and desire he felt for you after all the fights you'd had since he was unfrozen.
"fuck, i needed this.” he growled against your ear, his voice straining from the physical effort as he drove deep, without a shred of mercy. "you gotta take this, baby. know how many times i imagined shutting your mouth like this? while i fuck you?"
you tried to scream and whine against his palm, but the sound came out totally smothered.
"this is for you annoying me, if you were a good girl, it wouldn't have to be like this.” he hissed cruelly, your spit running down his hand in your attempt to bite him. "but girls like you deserve to be treated like this, fuck. this is for you learn to respect me, got it? learn to respect your elders, slut.”
driven by the panic of being heard by the rest of the group in the house and the confusing, overwhelming pleasure that degradation caused down there, you stopped fighting. your arms fell weightless to the sides of the couch.
ben took his hand off your mouth, replacing it with his own lips in a calm kiss. "can you hear daddy? look at me, doll."
fuck, he was fascinated.
"it'll pass, alright? i promise, in a bit it'll pass."
ben started moving slowly, trying to ignore the urge to flip you onto your stomach and fuck you until you passed out from the ache.
"it hurts s-so much, d-daddy."
ben sealed his lips over yours again and started moving faster, your quiet whimpers slipping into his mouth.
"baby, you okay?"
the moment you nodded, ben didn't care about anything else. in one single motion, he flipped you onto your stomach, arching your backside way up.
you whined in fright, losing all your support and burying your face against the cushions, while you felt the cold air of the living room hit your bare, exposed skin. before you could even process the change, ben slotted right behind you, gripping your hips with a force that would definitely leave purple marks on your skin.
without giving you time to breathe or get used to the new position, he lined up his massive cock and buried it all at once, entering from behind with a dry, violent thud.
he started hammering you just the way he'd wanted since the moment you came down the stairs and showed up in front of him in those trashy little shorts. the movements were brutal and accurate, spilling pre-cum inside your tight pussy, feeling it squeeze around him and try to push him out at every turn.
the pain of the impact made your whole back arch, and your eyes widened in the dark. you opened your mouth to let out the scream trapped in your throat, but ben was faster: he reached forward, pulling your hair back hard to steady your head, and with his other palm, clamped his hand tight over your mouth again, completely muffling your crying.
your body was shoved forward every time ben slammed into you, your sensitive nipples rubbing against the couch fabric, making you whimper.
even with his hand trying to smother your mouth, your sharp cries and whimpers escaped between his fingers, echoing muffled and desperate through the quiet living room. ben heard the sound of your despair and smiled against your nape, completely turned on by how your body reacted to every blow.
"fuck, princess." ben could see perfectly his cock vanishing inside you. the obscene, wet sounds of his full balls slapping against your backside only egged him on to go faster, to rough you up. the sound echoed heavy in the dark living room, mixing with your ragged breath and smothered whines.
"you were made for this, dammit. to be ben's little puppy and get fucked by him, yeah? say it, little girl.” he ordered, delivering a loud, firm slap to your ass that left your skin stinging.
"i... i am...", you started to murmur, your voice cracking, cut off by the brutal thrusts he refused to stop giving.
"you're what, fuck? say it right, you slut.” ben insisted, his voice even raspier and more impatient. he held your waist with both hands now, digging his fingers into your skin with force, and gave a thrust so deep it made you curve your back, letting out a sharp cry that echoed through the room. "say it to daddy."
with your body already exhausted and your mind completely hazy from the overload of sensations, you looked at him over your shoulder and bit your lips, your heavy eyes trying to focus on his face in the dark. your legs started shaking and the feeling that you were gonna pass out scared you, the pleasure mixed with physical exhaustion leaving you totally without strength to hold yourself up.
looking for any kind of support so you wouldn't collapse on the couch, you leaned your back against ben's bare, sweaty chest, feeling the heat of his skin and the steady thumping of his heart. you made an effort to turn your neck, looking over your shoulder, searching for his eyes. with your lips parted and a completely surrendered, needy look, you let your voice out real quiet:
"i'm your little puppy, daddy... i-i was made for you to use me. ben's little girl.” you finally managed to say, your eyes glistening as you looked at him.
in that exact instant, his huge hand grabbed your neck with a possessive grip, squeezing a bit. he yanked your body all the way back, slamming your back straight against his broad, bare chest, keeping you totally trapped and dominated, without stopping messing with you for a single second. the thrusts kept coming deep, rhythmic, and relentless, making your hips smack against his with a muffled, wet sound.
he leaned his face forward, burying his teeth into the side of your neck in a firm bite that made you let out a sharp gasp and goosebumped your entire body. "my dumb little puppy. daddy's favorite, y'know?"
"daddy. i-i..." your eyes rolled back when you felt ben's hands roughing up your chest, making you come all over again.
his heavy, calloused palms squeezed your breasts with brutal force, tugging at your sensitive nipples which were already sore from the friction of the couch. your entire body locked up in a violent spasm, your pussy squeezing so hard it trapped his cock in a suffocating grip while you melted completely all over again, whimpering quietly against his chest.
"tell me who you belong to, little one. say my name." your release dripped onto the couch and slicked ben's cock, which kept pounding into your sensitive heat. your body was limp, completely surrendered and shaking with every brutal blow he delivered from behind. "make daddy happy, baby. do it."
"i-i belong to d-daddy ben… i'm y-yours, yours, b-ben." you said, closing your eyes, your voice destroyed by crying and exhaustion, and your pussy burned, trying at all costs to push ben out of the tight heat.
you were so sensitive that every thrust felt like it was burning.
"mine. my little slut, daddy’s little puppy." he held your waist with his fingers sinking into your skin, pulling your hips hard against his.
he leaned his face right to your ear, his voice coming in a dragged, possessive growl.
"fuck, girl. i'm gonna cum." he whispered, squeezing your waist tight. "i'm gonna fill you all the way up with my cum, doll. can i? do you let daddy fill you all the way up, little girl?"
totally weak, crying quietly and lacking the strength to deny your man anything, you moved your head slowly, nodding against the cushion while letting out a needy, dragged-out groan.
"y-yes... daddy, please... cum inside me.” you begged in a thread of a broken voice, squeezing your eyes shut hard.
ben let out a heavy breath and delivered three final, hard thrusts, shoving his massive cock all the way to the hilt inside you. the force of the impact made your back arch and your eyes roll, completely losing your breath as his body locked tight against yours.
with a low, raspy growl that vibrated right in your back, ben pumped all his cum, deep inside you. giving you such an absurd feeling of fullness that your body started contracting in involuntary spasms of pure pleasure and exhaustion, squeezing his member while the fluid started to overflow and slowly run down your trembling thighs.
he kept pushing his hips to stretch out the climax, his cock still incredibly hard.
his body relaxed heavily over your back, his broad, sweaty chest rising and falling with a noisy, tired breath right next to your ear.
"doll?" he called calmly, his breath hitching. he stayed buried inside you for a few long seconds, feeling the heat and the tiny squeezes your body was still giving around his member.
"daddy..." you managed to say, your raspy voice cracking.
with a long sigh, ben finally started to pull away. when he slid his cock out of you, the wet sound and sudden emptiness made you let out a quiet whimper of pain, feeling your chafed entrance sting instantly.
he rubbed his cock against your ass, watching drops of his cum still dripping from the tip.
his warmth started to overflow and run in slow threads down your thighs, staining the dark couch.
"there you go, little doll... daddy's here. it's over now.” he murmured in his raspy, soft voice, pulling your trembling little body by the waist to lay you facing him in the narrow space of the couch.
his hand came up to your face, brushing away the strands of hair stuck to your forehead and wiping the traces of tears from your cheek with his thumb. he started giving you sweet, calm kisses all over your face, on the tip of your nose, and on your still-swollen lips.
"does it hurt a lot, baby?" he asked quietly, looking deep into your eyes.
"i-it hurts a bit, ben... you were really rough.” you confessed in a broken whisper, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, seeking the heat of his skin to calm down.
"i know, my baby. but you were a very good little girl for me. daddy's proud, y'know?"
feeling this tenderness from him after he'd hurt you made your eyes glisten and your cheeks heat up. you let out a tiny smile, completely forgetting the ache in your pussy.
"really, d-daddy?" you asked in a sweet whisper, with a very needy voice and your eyes shining in the dark, looking for approval. "you really thought i did good?"
"i did, doll. daddy's real proud of you.” he answered, amused by how completely surrendered you were and leaving a long kiss on your swollen lips. "you're my perfect little girl, yeah? you're daddy's girl?"
you nodded slowly, rubbing your face lightly against his bare chest, totally enveloped by that warmth and the sense of belonging that dominated your chest.
"yes daddy, i-i'm your little girl.” you murmured in a very needy, dragged-out voice, your eyes almost closing from pure exhaustion, but with a warm heart from being right there.
he squeezed you a bit tighter against himself, letting you listen to the steady thumping of his heart. his hand kept up a slow, constant caress in your hair, sliding down your arms to give you a gentle rub and calm you from the shock and physical stress.
after your breathing started going back to normal, lulled by the long caress ben was giving your hair, he gave a tender kiss to the top of your head and moved slowly on the couch.
"hold on, doll. i'll be right back.” he whispered in his raspy voice, getting up.
you curled your legs against your chest, feeling your body limp and your lower half stinging with the cold air of the room. in the dark, you watched ben walk to the bathroom. in a few minutes, he came back carrying a small towel, damp with water, and your clothes that he'd thrown on the floor.
he knelt back down on the edge of the couch, and with extreme gentleness, ben held your ankles and opened your legs slowly so you wouldn't jump from the touch. he started wiping with the towel carefully, cleaning the trail of mess mixed with the tiny bit of blood from your entrance that coated your thighs and your sore opening. every pass of the cloth brought immediate relief to the burning on your sensitive skin.
"alright, little doll.” he murmured after a few minutes of wiping your body, setting the towel aside. "tomorrow you take a shower, okay?"
he picked up your cotton panties. holding your hip with one hand to lift you slightly, he slid the soft fabric gently over your trembling legs, pulling the piece up carefully so it wouldn't squeeze your bruised area. next, ben took your shorts, slipping one foot in at a time, and pulled the elastic up to your waist, fixing the clothes on your body with total patience, as if he were taking care of a toddler.
lastly, he grabbed your shirt. he helped you sit up on the couch, propping your weight against his chest because your little body was still totally out of strength. you slid your arms through the sleeves and he pulled the cloth down, covering your nipples which still stung from his grips.
with you fully dressed and protected, ben smirked, satisfied to see his little girl comfortable again. he lay back down on the couch, pulling you by the waist so you'd rest your head directly on his bare, sweaty chest. he covered both of you with the blanket up to your chest.
you gathered the tiny bit of strength you had left and shyly tilted your face up, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and pressed your lips to his in a slow, wet kiss.
ben let out a low sigh, surprised by your sudden gesture, and his smirk grew, finding your attitude the most beautiful thing in the world.
after the little kiss, you quickly hid your face in the crook of his neck, snuggling even closer against that broad, protective chest. you threw your arm over his waist, holding onto his body as if the outside world didn't exist. you both knew perfectly well that in a few hours, the day would break and the others would come down the stairs and catch you two exactly like that: crashed on the couch, covered by the same blanket, and smelling like what you'd just done.
lulled by the steady rhythm of ben's heart and the sweet caress he wouldn't stop giving your hair, you finally let out a heavy sigh of relief and fell fast asleep, knowing you were completely safe in his arms.
a/n: hiii, i hope you guys liked this story as much as i did, cause it pleased me so much 🤭🤭 thank you so much to everyone who is following me and liking my stories, okay? you all live in my heart ♡
nasty soldier boy headcanons pt. 3 (sorry I'm ovulating)
when you lay with your belly down on the floor he approaches you and presses his boot clad foot onto your cunt "can already see a wet spot forming on your pretty panties doll face." of course you don't help the situation and try grinding against it "god what a desperate attention seeking cunt"
when you cry during sex because you are too stressed he actually mocks you. ben is thrusting deep into you as he leans down to whisper words that mess with your self worth "awww you're such an embarrassment doll. you know daddy is so ashamed to have such a dirty bitch as his girl" he says everything in such a sweet tone that actually makes you sick
ben loves to get drunk and keep you on your knees for the entire night. he needs to piss so often but doesn't want to stand up every time so he just keeps you around. every time he needs to take a piss he signals it with a slap to your face. you obediently part your lips and gulp it down. instead of being thankful for it he calls you disgusting and is super mean about it
tw. obsessive / stalker dean x reader. somnophilia. pussy eating. breaking in. p in v. creampie. alcohol mention. panty kink. panty stealing. CNC. title from alligator blood- nicole dollanganger.
the key turns with practiced silence in the deadbolt. Dean knows exactly which floorboards creak. the third from the door, the one in the hall by the bathroom, the spot just beside your bed. He's memorised the layout of your apartment the way he memorised the feel of your skin from that one time you bumped into him at the grocery store, your hand brushing his as you both reached for the same bottle of whiskey.
Six months ago. You don't remember but he does.
His boots are off left at the door in the hallway. He's wearing only socks, a pair of dark jeans and a leather jacket that's seen better days. He moves through your living room like smoke, past the collection of succulents on your windowsill, past the half-empty coffee mug you left on the coffee table—black with two sugars. you take it just like he does. moving into the rectangle of pale moonlight spilling from your bedroom doorway.
There you are.
You're on your side with one arm tucked under your pillow, mouth slightly open, your lashes dark crescents against your cheeks. The sheet has twisted around your legs leaving one thigh exposed, the curve of your hip visible where your oversized t-shirt has ridden up.
You're wearing that shirt—the worn one with the faded band logo that he's seen you in at least a dozen times from his parked car across the street.
Dean's breath catches in his throat the way it always does when he sees you like this. Vulnerable. oblivious. his.
He pads closer to the bed, his shadow falling over you. The mattress dips as he settles his weight on the edge, the springs complaining softly. You don't stir. You never do. You sleep like the dead and Dean thanks whatever twisted god is listening for that mercy.
His hand hovers over your hip, not quite touching. He can feel the warmth radiating from your skin, smell the faint scent of your shampoo—something coconut and vanilla that drives him insane. His cock is already half-hard in his jeans, pressing against the zipper demanding attention.
"God.. look at you.” he whispers, his voice rough and low. "So fucking beautiful I can't think straight."
He finally lets his palm rest on your bare thigh. Your skin is impossibly soft, warm from sleep. He strokes up, fingers trailing over the swell of your hip and dipping under the hem of your shirt. You shift slightly in your sleep, a soft sound escaping your lips and Dean freezes, his heart hammering against his chest.
When you settle back into your breathing rhythm—slow, even and deep he exhales shakily.
"Sweetheart.” he murmurs like a prayer. "You have no idea what you do to me."
He slides his hand higher tracing the line of your ribs through the thin cotton of your shirt. His thumb brushes the underside of your breast and his mouth waters. He's dreamed of this, of touching you, of taking what he wants while you lie there oblivious.
Selfish. So selfish.
Slowly he pulls the sheet down further baring your legs completely. The moonlight catches the curve of your ass where your shirt has bunched up and Dean has to bite back a groan. His free hand goes to his jeans fumbling with the button, unzipping with a sound that seems impossibly loud in the quiet room.
He frees his cock—hard and thick, the head already slick with a bead of precum. He strokes himself once then twice, watching your sleeping face. your parted lips. the way your chest rises and falls.
"I need to taste you..” he breathes out.
He shifts positioning himself between your legs. With gentle reverent hands he pushes your thighs apart. You make a sleepy sound of protest but don't wake, your body relaxing into his touch. The cotton of your panties is thin, worn, and he can see the shadow of your cunt through the fabric.
Dean leans down and presses his mouth to you through the cloth, inhaling your scent. He's dizzy with it. His tongue darts out wetting the fabric, tracing the seam of your folds. You twitch, your hips rolling slightly and he groans against you.
He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and pulls them down your thighs, your knees, off completely. He pockets them for later. he'll stroke himself to this memory.
Now he spreads you open with his thumbs and you're glistening pink, already wet in that unconscious way your body responds to sleep. Dean swears under his breath, his voice cracking.
"God look at this pussy. Made for me. Made just for me."
He lowers his head and his tongue is flat against your clit in one smooth possessive stroke. He tastes salt and the faint sweetness of you and it's better than any whiskey, better than anything he's ever had. He circles your clit with the tip of his tongue slow and firm and your body responds immediately—your hips twitch, a soft moan escaping your throat.
"That's it..” he murmurs against you. "Let me have it, baby."
He works you open with his mouth, licking into your folds, fucking you with his tongue. He's patient. He knows what he's doing and he takes his time. He brings you to the edge and backs off just to watch your breath hitch, just to see the way your brow furrows in your sleep, caught in the edge of a dream you don't remember.
When he surfaces his chin is slick with you and his cock throbs with a brutal need. He positions himself between your thighs, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance. He looks at your face one last time—your relaxed features, your soft mouth, the way you've turned your head to the side completely unaware.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart.” he whispers though there's no apology in his voice. "I can't help myself. You're mine."
He pushes in and your cunt yields to him wet and hot and tight, the friction of that first slick slide making his eyes roll back. You gasp sharply, your body jolting and he stills, buried halfway inside you. His jaw is clenched so tight it aches.
"Shh shh, I've got you.” he whispers smoothing his hand over your hip, your belly. "Just relax. You feel so good, Christ. so good."
Your body adjusts, your muscles loosening as you sink back into sleep and he takes that as permission. He pushes deeper seating himself fully inside you and the feeling of your tight cunt gripping his cock is almost too much. He has to breathe through it, his forehead nearly pressed to yours, his breath fanning over your face.
He starts to move—slow deep strokes that drag the full length of him through your slick heat. The bed creaks in a steady rhythm, the headboard knocking soft against the wall. Your nails scrape weakly at the sheets, and your lips part, your breathing speeding up, catching on little whimpers.
"Fuck, you take it so well.” he grits out, his hips picking up speed. "You take my cock so fucking good, baby. Dreaming about this, I know you are. Dreaming about me filling this tight little cunt."
He wraps one arm under your knee, hitching your leg higher changing the angle. He drives deeper, hitting a spot that makes your whole body clench, your back arching off the mattress. A low broken moan escapes you, the first sound you've made that's truly awake, but your eyes stay closed.
"Right there-“ he gasps. "Right fucking there come on, give it to me. wet my cock."
He reaches down between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight circles. He fucks you harder, faster, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your walls fluttering around him and he watches your face contort in that perfect mask of pleasure.
"Now.” he commands, his voice breaking. "please- cum for me now."
Your orgasm crashes through you, your back bowing with a sharp cry tearing from your throat. Your cunt milks him, clenching and pulsing and Dean buries his face in your neck as he follows you over the edge, spilling deep inside you in hot heavy pulses. He grinds his hips against you riding it out, groaning your name like a curse.
For a long moment, the only sound is his ragged breathing and the distant hum of traffic. He stays inside you softening, his face pressed to the curve of your shoulder. When he finally pulls out, he watches a pearl of his cum leak from your cunt, and he uses two fingers to push it back inside.
"Can't waste any of it…” he murmurs.
He pulls your shirt down, rearranges the sheet over you and presses a long, soft kiss to your forehead. You mumble something in your sleep, turning onto your other side and curling into a ball.
Dean dresses in the dark, takes your panties from his pocket and stows them safely, lets himself out of your apartment the same way he came in.
As he walks to his car under the streetlights, he pulls his phone from his pocket and opens the app he's been using to track your phone's location.
"Tomorrow night…” he says to himself. "Same time, sweetheart."
tw. obsessive dean! stalking. dead dove do not eat. masturbation (m). threats. panty kink. panty sniffing. sex. p in v. pussy slapping. ass slapping. tit slapping. oral receiving (f). CNC. dom dean. overstimulation. title from ethel cain.
Dean knows he’s a bad man.. but he just cant stay away from you.
He tells himself its for your protection, installing that GPS tracker into your phone and car. He knows when you're at the grocery store, when you stop for gas and when you take a detour to visit a ‘friend’.. but the truth is darker. he sits in the Impala outside your motel room at 2 AM, watching the light under your door with his knuckles white on the steering wheel imagining you sleeping. Imagining what your wearing…. panties and a tshirt? his tshirt?
would you be dreaming about him? do you call out for him in your sleep? are you wet? All the thoughts rush to his brain, then to his cock. His jeans becoming so tight and uncomfortable he just has to jerk off…
anytime you mention a new friend, within a week they’re gone. Dean makes sure of that. He'll leave subtle threats, show up unannounced and spread rumors that you're "taken" by someone dangerous. He never admits it but the satisfaction he feels when you're isolated- when you have no one but him, keeps him up at night with a sick kind of joy.
There’s a duffel bag hidden under his bed in the bunker. his own private collection of you. a hair tie you left on the sink, a napkin you wrote your number on and a pair of your panties. the lacy ones you’ve been looking for. sometimes he presses them to his face and inhales, your sweet scent still engraved in the cotton. sometimes he wraps them around his aching cock, jerking off until his hot jizz leaves stains inside.
when he finally finally gets inside of you, you have to say his name. He needs to hear it. “Dean." Over and over until your voice is hoarse. He fucks you from behind with one hand in your hair, the other wrapped around your throat. a reminder that he owns every breath you take. That he owns you. When you cum he makes sure you're saying his name. If you don't he’s slapping your pussy, your ass- tits and anything he can get his hands on until you do.
His favourite is when he gets to go down on you for hours. The feeling of your hands tangling in his hair trying to latch him off your sensitive clit but he just wont- instead he shakes his head to get deeper, tongue licking your pussy messily until your covered in his spit and so overstimulated your pleading him to stop.
Theres rot beneath his green eyes and smile but in deans eyes, its love. the only kind he knows how to give- suffocating and so consuming you practically move as one. Even if you dont want to.
and god help anyone who gets in his way.
can you tell ive just watched ‘obsession’ LMFAO
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