cw: sexual content, reader fucks herself on stream
camgirl!reader and all the men who follow you......
6eyez4you who is your highest paying subscriber. any time you hop on, whether that's just to talk to your chat or to sink onto an 12 inch dildo, he's there paying you enough to cover rent for the next 12 months. he always sends a flirty message, something like "hope this gets you 10x wetter ;)" or "send me the used panties you buy with this, cutie." it never fails to make you jaw drop when you see how much he spends on you, and his favorite part is when you thank him with your voice all high and whiny.
suguwatches is always pushing you to your limits. just when you feel you've orgasmed too many times, he's there to encourage you. "just one more baby, for all of us." and of course, you listen. ever so supportive, even though you don't know who he is, you find comfort in reading his sweet messages. no matter what request he sends, you always are willing to do it. that "great job sweetheart" feels that much better every time.
then you have your_hitman33 who never fails to make you blush. every time he logs on, he leaves the dirtiest comments, saying thiings like "of course the slut likes the biggest toy" and "id fuck you so hard baby." never afraid to say what's on his mind, his demeaning words make you feel that much more turned on. you still remember that one time you did a self-bondage stream, and he said "im gonna find you and fuck the shit out of you." even though you knew he wouldn't come, you've been chasing that rush of fear ever since.
horny_salaryman has to be the one you want to marry the most, though. he tunes in and pays you a hefty $300 every time, always commenting on your beauty. "You look like an angel today." when you were too tired to do your makeup, "I love your smile, beautiful." when you've just woken up. while the others get your pussy wetter, he always seems to make your face warm and your belly get butterflies, kind praise when others complain about your appearance.
but the one you seem to think about the most is ryossecret_. he only joins every now and again, and has only left a few comments. whenever you see his name show up in chat a feeling of insecurity rushes over you, like you need to perform more, entertain him. he only left one comment and that was "You look good for breeding.", but aside from that he just watches. that is, until he dms you asking if you want to collab.............
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ 18+ mdni.. Camgirl!reader.. watching?.. riding a dildo.. actual bullshit written on this post, worst fic of 2026, req by @yunamayox i'm so sorry bbg this turned out horrible plz forgive me
Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t a fan of porn. Not even when his teammates and his shameless classmates talked about it.
And he loud and proud thought that guys who were attracted to seeing a girl shake ass on a camera were utterly, no doubt, the most pathetic people on earth.
Yeah, women are bloody attractive, and when he sees a pretty girl, he wants nothing else but to bend her over and make her scream his name like a prayer.
Seeing that on a site that lies behind a paywall wasn’t something that made his dick twitch, unlike the guys around him who went crazy over that shit.
Each to their own, but they’re still fucking losers—was how Sukuna’s brain worked.
That was until he met you, such a sweet, perfect little girl.
He somehow managed to find his way into your DMs, and then your close friends, and then to your dorm.
Now he lies on your bed that’s dressed in pink and white, with various shapes and sizes of plushies scattered across the place like they pay rent.
He feels out of place, to say the least. A big hunk of a man relaxing in soft pastels and flowery perfumes.
His eyes scan the room, confused by the amount of camera equipment you have lying around. Were you a vlogger or something?
Those weren’t uncommon around here; every other chick and dude here makes vlogs, YouTube videos, or TikToks to help pay tuition.
Maybe you were one of them, but by the quality of the equipment, it seemed unlikely.
So while you type away at your laptop, finishing your economics assignment, on your study table, Sukuna finally decides to crush the silence and ask.
“What’s with all the cameras and professional lights?” His low voice snaps your focus, making you look in his direction.
He notices how your face goes from neutral to pink in just seconds.
“So… you want the long or the short version?”
“I mean, I’m not leaving anytime soon, so give me the full version,” he says, making you turn your chair towards him, tucking your knees up to your chest.
“So my mom somehow saw one of my Instagram posts where I was dressed up ‘slutty’ in her words. And she showed my dad, and well… they didn’t exactly disown me, but they cut me off from basically everything that would financially support me, which includes tuition, food, and basically everything else I need money for to survive.” You stop to make sure Sukuna is keeping up.
He was on his side, his elbow digging into your comforter, while he rested the side of his face in his palm.
“And literally no place would hire me, I had no money, I was on the verge of going out to ask people for money, but I decided against it, thank God. And I turned to porn.” You smile at him shyly, and by the looks of it, he’s shocked, shocked.
He was now sitting up on your bed, eyebrows raised, speechless. You tilt your head at him, waiting for him to say something.
“Oh are you one of those people who thinks it’s disgusting?”
He interrupts before your expression can fall into a frown. “NO! No– nothing like that, it’s just…” he clears his throat, trying to find the right words, “Just shocking because I would’ve never imagined you would do something like that. You look so… innocent.” The way he tries to explain himself is so wholesome, you can’t help but laugh.
“Relax, I was just kidding. I know many people who find it weird, but just as many people enjoy it. To each their own, amiright?” That’s what Sukuna says, but his saying has a bit more of a twist to it. A more ‘fuck others, I’m right’ kind of twist.
Sukuna just nods, his own face heating up at the thought of you touching yourself on camera.
He doesn’t know how to control his emotions, especially not in this current moment. Instead of asking you a million questions, like: how many fans do you have? Do you show your face? Does anyone you know watch you? He drops back down on your bed, burying his face in your pillows.
—
He ends up going home a while later because you outwardly tell him you have to ‘livestream’; he can’t help the feeling of agitation that’s crawling up his spine.
That was until he unlocks his dorm and receives a notification on his phone at the same time. Entering his room, he kicks off his shoes, plopping onto the bed, checking his phone to see a message from you.
His eyes damn near pop out of his skull. It’s a link to your livestream.
Fuck. Should he? He’s conflicted.
Kind of hypocritical of him to laugh at those who fucked themselves while watching a girl ride a dildo on camera… was he really about to do the same thing?
His thumb twitches, accidentally clicking on the link, but he doesn’t fight it.
His body is completely still, the screen loads, taking him to a sign-up page.
He’s never moved faster before.
Until your face is on his phone. Fuck, you look adorable.
Instead of the hoodie and shorts you had on earlier, now you’re wearing a matching lace bra and panties set. Sukuna damn near groans at the sight.
It’s not long until the stream starts, and you start talking and greeting everyone, especially the regulars, which pisses him off.
You haven’t even done anything, but the donations start rolling in.
His eyes linger on your round, full tits being held up by that flimsy fabric. His hands would’ve done a better job.
He watches as you adjust the camera, grabbing a little bullet vibrator and spreading your legs, your barely covered pussy on display for not only him but the many others that were watching this stream.
Oh, how he fucking wishes he could fuck you and fill you up in front of all of them, pound you into that mattress until you were a moaning mess for him.
His hand involuntarily dips down his sweats, watching—glaring, more or less—you press the little pink vibrating bullet to your clit. Clicking a button to amp up the speed. He can already see the way your thighs are trembling from the vibrations alone. Hell, you haven’t even removed your panties yet.
The soft, coloured lace alters into a dark, damp version of itself. He could only imagine how wet your little cunt was.
You pull your panties up, letting your lips swallow the fabric, then pressing it against your clit.
“Want me to spread my legs more? Should I take these off?” You say, teasing your viewers, the donations and messages start flooding your chat, with a bunch of ‘yes’ and ‘show your pussy’.
Sukuna couldn’t believe he was about to do this, but he donates with a message attached, saying, ‘take em off already, pretty girl, stop teasing.’ he can’t believe that he’s indulging in cam girls, and actually enjoying it.
The way his cock is pressing up against his palm, leaking all over himself, really leaves no room to deny or deflect anything.
He’s enjoying something he made fun of others for enjoying.
But this is different.
It’s you.
As Sukuna’s wrist twists around his tip, you seem to read his message. You, of course, couldn’t know the man who sent you the message was Sukuna, but judging by the fat donation, that request was hard to ignore.
“Alright, this one is for you Mr.King cock 69,” Sukuna rolls his eyes. You didn’t have to say that dumb username he came up with on the spot, but whatever.
You remove your now soaking wet panties, and the man nearly busts a load right then and there.
Fuck, she’s perfect. He thinks to himself and so much more. His imagination used to run wild before, but now it’s a rabid animal. The things that are running through his mind right about you, about all the things he wants to do to that perfect little pussy should be criminal.
A few messages in the chat catch your eye, asking you to use a dildo.
“Should I use a dildo? It’s kind of big,” you pout, feigning innocence, increasing the donations by a fucking million.
Always works.
‘I’m way bigger, baby’
‘C’mon, please use it’
‘You can make it fit, use it.’
‘Should be me instead of that silicone toy.’
A few of the messages read. You can’t help but grin, biting your bottom lip before nodding.
“Fine, fine, I’ll use the dildo,” you agree, turning and reaching out of frame to grab it. The only part of you that’s on camera is your arch and your glistening folds.
Sukuna knows he shouldn’t, but he screenshots the live stream a few times. Languidly moving his large hand over his cock, tucking the band of his sweats under his balls, letting precum drip down his lower abs.
You set the clear, glittery dildo on your bed, knees on either side of it, your aching pussy hovering over it. Slowly lowering yourself.
You couldn’t help but eye the chat, all begging you to take it already.
You weren’t certain, but a part of you was confident that a certain someone was watching.
“‘S so big,” you moan lachiviously, sinking onto the protuding tip of the toy. Letting your throbbing cunt swallow all of it, using your slick to help guide you down. Place both your hands on the mattress to finally ease into the whole thing.
Fuck, it felt big, but you knew that a certain someone was much bigger.
While that certain someone was doing his hardest not to fucking cum all over himself. His hand speeds up, erratically moving along his shaft, trying to match the rolls of your hips to imagine it’s his cock taking place inside of you and not some stupid toy.
A stupid toy you were riding on the same bed he was lying on not too long ago.
Sukuna could feel his lower stomach tightening, as your moans got louder and the lewd noises your wet cunt was making also grew.
Before he could stop himself or hold out for another 10 minutes, like he wanted to, his hips jerk up into his palm, cum splurting all over his shirt and abs, some even hitting his face.
His vision nearly blacked out from how hard he cums from watching a cam girl ride a fucking sex toy. But not just any cam girl. You specifically.
When his eyes finally opened again, he is met with the sight of your body shaking as an orgasm washes over you. Thighs trembling, body leaned forward, face all red and sweaty.
Fucking hell, he couldn’t get enough of you.
Before he decided to leave and bask in the mental consequences of his actions, he gave one last donation and dipped.
He was now no less pathetic than the other men he made fun of, but God was it so worth it. So worth that orgasm and getting to see you naked, riding a dildo.
A/N: so i lied and couldn't finish my long fic. I feel like an unmotivated slug. someone fuck me into my next orbital so i can have some sort of reaction and get back on my grind
ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.
content warning ! f! and m!masturbation, use of toys (clitoral and vaginal simulation) pussy slapping (brief) perv!clark again, best friend/roommate clark, use of the word slut once, viewer discretion advised!
[ camgirl!reader x clark kent: you’re an internet sensation, the object of desire for millions of men on the internet…little do you know, one of your loyal supporters is over in the next room, a newfound but avid contributor to the honey pot. this layout is so ass but i’ll fix it later… ] ref: this ask!
clark didn’t mean to pry in on your secret. really.
it all begin with that shitty computer of yours—the one clark kept hounding on you to replace. it was impractical, honestly pretty useless. it hummed and took several minutes to process simple actions—not before completely shutting down. clark could see your frustration and that, in spite of your reassurances that it’s fine, clark, that it truly bothered you.
so, he bought you a new one, but not without the promise that it would be useful to him, too. he knew you’d never take him up on the offer if he didn’t suggest to you that it’d be perfect to share, a quaint shared home monitor that you could both access your work on; whatever hefty assignment perry gave you two. clark was too generous for his own good, even helping you secure your job at the planet alongside him and taking you in after you were let go from your last job—some stupid thing about budget cuts although you’d been a loyal associate at your insurance firm for some years now. oh well, fuck them, you thought to yourself when you remembered, although it still vexed you.
clark was your white knight through it all.
even so, you struggled. base pay as a brand new journalist at the planet wasn’t the best. you practically had to force clark to let you help pay rent although you were barely scraping by and didn’t have much to offer. that’s when the cam girl idea came to you. you could say it wasn’t your finest moment and being financially vulnerable made you more passive to the idea. the shitty “make bank right now from your own bedroom!” ad had successful coaxed you. your last shred of dignity seemed to go to hell. and well…now, here you were.
clark did question it a little bit, when the money began to rack in and suddenly you were bringing in a heft of groceries, telling him with a shrug of your shoulder that you’d been better at saving this month and could help pitch in on necessities from now on. the truth was, the almost millions of strangers who watched you fuck yourself on camera had been the ones to pay for it all.
you’d built a regular routine by now. you positioned the camera of your laptop perfectly—one you’d been able to buy thanks to your tippers, (unbeknownst to clark), and straightened your sheets as if you weren’t just about to ruin them. you were sure to make it so that the only part of your face anyone could see were your red lips; your trademark. you were clad in black babydoll lingerie today, complete with garters, stockings, and crotchless panties. the look complimented the lipstick deliciously today.
your collection of toys had grown too extensively to keep from protruding in your bedside table drawer, the rest you’d laid out on your bed for use upon viewer request. you were giddy the way you always were before you streamed, a smile playing on your lips when you finally hit start live! your legs were closed, knees pressed tightly together while you laid back on the plush of your pillows, manicured hands resting on your stomach.
𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘! 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞...
the chat began to chime with the entrance of users on the site immediately.
“hellooo, sweet things!” you greeted your followers. “how are we doing today?”
CANDYMAN: Better now that I’ve seen you, Honey.
“awe, you’re too kind,” you hummed, teasing your hands over your tits. the most you’d give them until the tips began to roll in.
BRATTAMER69: What’ve you been up to, Honey? It’s so late…
“mmm, had to wait for my roommate to leave. missed you guys,” you sighed when your nipples began to harden at the prolonged contact. sore and sensitive with need.
CANDYMAN tipped $25 to The Honey Pot.
“thanks for donating to the honey pot, candyman,” you grinned, resting your hands back on your stomach to give yourself a break.
THIRSTYTHING: Damn. She sounds like such a cockblock
“no no, he’s nice. he has some trouble sleeping though so he’s just been in all day resting. he leaves in the middle of the night sometimes, so besides going to work he’s pretty nocturnal,” you laughed. the chimes of users entering amplified.
CANDYMAN: He?
shit, you cursed to yourself in your head. working in the industry for some months now, you learned it was best to keep sexual endeavors on the down-low. if anyone had parasocial relationships with their favorite influencers, it was the sex work community. it quickly become known fact to you that often, users had a possessive energy over you.
“uh, yeah…” you trailed off, unsure how to find a save.
CUMCAPTA1N04: Do you fuck?
“no! it’s not…he’s not…we’re not like that. i’ve known him for awhile now, y’know? he’s a great friend. it’d be weird if we did anything like that. besides, i like you guys better anyways,” you finished. another thing you realized about the industry—these fuckers loved the validation. no matter how fake it was. guilt began to prick at you, though. you knew you didn’t mean it. clark was your closest friend, your rock in the hardest of times. there was no one you really liked better than him.
CANDYMAN tipped $30 to The Honey Pot.
CANDYMAN: That’s what I like to hear, Honey
1GOODFUCK: I dunno. I think it’d be hot
CANDYMAN: That’s not what I’m paying for…
FUCKOLD: You at least let him to second or third base?
DICKUDOWN: Like a good little roommate?
you cleared your throat. “alright, candyman. anything you want me to do for you today?”
BONDAGEBANDIT: You look so pretty, baby. That the set I bought for you?
“it is!” you exclaimed, looking down at the lace that adorned your body and hugged your curves. “so glad you like it,” you said, smoothed out the wrinkles.
CANDYMAN: Why don’t you spread those pretty legs, baby?
BONDAGEBANDIT: Nah, it’s crotchless. Why don’t you make her tease herself before she gets down to it?
CANDYMAN: Because I’m the highest donator, dumbass…
you stifled a laugh. “okay guys. you know how it goes. best tip in the chat tells me what to do,” you reminded them.
CANDYMAN tipped $35 to The Honey Pot.
BONDAGEBANDIT tipped $45 to The Honey Pot.
BONDAGEBANDIT: Nice try, cheap ass…
CANDYMAN tipped $60 to The Honey Pot.
BONDAGEBANDIT tipped $100 to The Honey Pot.
“alright! it’s clear who the winner is for now,” you declared excitedly.
BONDAGEBANDIT: Put a vibe to one of those nipples, Honey. The pink one. And pinch the other one
“i like the way you think, bandit,” you chirped, taking the silicone wand from beside you and switching it on.
BONDAGEBANDIT: The strongest setting, Honey
“you betcha,” you freed your tits from the confines of your lace. more tips rolled in as they bounced over the bralette, sitting perky and taut. you brought the vibrator to a hardened bud, rolling the other in between your fingers with a gasp. “so sensitive. i’ve been waiting to touch myself all day for you all…”
CUMCAPTA1N04: So good for us…
“always,” you sighed, switching the toy between your tits. “c-can i touch my pussy now?”
CUMCAPTA1N04: Run it over your little body a bit. Then open those sexy thighs
“aye, aye, captain,” you joked, moaning out when you delved closer to your core, bringing the vibrator down over your stomach while the other hand rested on your tit. you moved down to your thighs, stopping over your empty clenching hole. you finally parted your thighs with a sigh, unclenching to reveal your pussy shining of slick from beneath your see-through crotchless lace panties.
CUMCAPTA1N04: Perfect.
CUMCAPTA1N04 tipped $15 to The Honey Pot.
CUMCAPTA1N04: Spread it open for us.
“you got it, captain.” the wand you’d left to rest on your thigh clattered beside you. you took the hand previously massaging your hand to spread your lower lips apart wide, your juices collecting on your fingers getting them drenched and sticky. you moved close enough to the camera so that your viewers were still denied full access to your face but could see your tight hole clench and twitch around nothing. “that good?” you’d gotten several more requests to slap yourself, to which you responded with several spanks to your wet hole that made you yelp but only made the tips keep filing in.
CUMCAPTA1N04: Amazing…you’re a goddess. How bout the vibe and a dildo? The lifelike one?
CANDYMAN: Or better yet, the thrusting vibrator with the tongue?
CANDYMAN tipped $20 to The Honey Pot.
“ooh,” you marveled reading the comment. “that’s a good one, it’s been awhile.”
more tips and comments began to spill in in agreement.
“alright then.” you perused the toys before your eyes landed on one of the naughtiest yet that you owned. a pink vibrator with the tip shaped like that of a cock and a tongue attached above it with several different vibration, thrusting, and tongue-licking pattern modes to try. the thrusting mode had a sliding ring for a realistic feel. the toy was practically made so that you hardly any work to do on your own, nothing but play with your tits.
CANDYMAN: Any mode or speed. Have fun
“i like the sound of that,” you smiled, the red lipstick vibrant in the camera frame. “going to touch a little first,” you said, gasping at the contact of the tight circles you rubbed on your slick clit, the other hand spreading you open. you teased your wet slit, stroking lightly up and down from your clit before finally taking the toy in your hand again. you inched it in slowly with a moan, taking it to the hilt with a tight clench around it. “ohhhh,” you cried aloud. “feels so nice after the wait,” you giggled.
you turned the thrusting mode on to the fastest, strongest setting. “oh, fuck!” you moaned.
BONDAGEBANDIT: Shit…
FUCKOLD: Taking it like a good little slut
“shit, i think i bit off more than i could chew,” you laugh nervously, clamping your hand over your mouth, eyes crossed when you pushed the vibrator in a slight bit more so that it was perfectly snug within your hole.
FUCKOLD: Why don’t you try the tongue?
“mmm, sure. just- ahhh! need a second,” you exclaimed loudly, twisting the nubs of your nipples. after a moment, you hit the button to turn on the tongue-licking motion. you fell hard back into your pillows, throwing your hands behind your head. “feels so fucking good. shit! too much!” you moaned, tears welling up in your eyes.
FUCKOLD tipped $50 to The Honey Pot.
FUCKOLD: Cum for us.
you clenched hard around the toy, the overstimulation of the tongue and cock working in tandem bringing you to a height of climax that had your back arching, afraid slivers your face might’ve been shown, only to see comments about how good you came, how pretty you looked.
THIRSTYTHING: Damn, that was hot
Subscribed now
FUCKOLD: You weren’t subscribed before, dipshit?????
you laughed at the quips in the chat, the futile stupidity of randoms fighting for you and over you in the form of chat comments.
“thank you, guys! god, that was so good,” you chuckled, still panting post-orgasm. the toy was sticky and drenched with your juices when you finally pulled it out of you. “how ‘bout i suck it all off clean for you guys since since you’ve been so kind and gave me an amazing orgasm?”
CUMCAPTA1N04: Hell yeah
BONDAGEBANDIT: Shit yes, Honey
you smiled, and opened your mouth to show your outstretched tongue. you swirled your tongue around the length and girth of the cock then took it deep in your throat, slightly gagging. the lipstick had smeared slightly around your lips now. you wiped away drool slipping from the corner of your lips. taking it from the inside of your open mouth, you showed off your work to your fans with a smile. “how’s that?”
BONDAGEBANDIT: Perfect Honey.
FUCKOLD: Such a pretty pussy and perfect mouth, wish I had them wrapped around me…
it was then that you heard the wrestle of the key inside your apartment door, that janky keyhole that needed fixing shoved around.
“shit,” you exclaimed, setting the toy aside. “roomie’s back. don’t want him to hear me talking to you guys,” you laughed. “great as he is, he doesn’t know about my side gig and i don’t want him to hear about it any time soon. have a good night—or day, wherever you are, guys!” you smiled, waving bye to the camera and thanking your tippers again before closing your laptop.
you were still covered in your own spend from the events of the night, an hour or half or so you’d spend attending to the demands of total strangers—surprising yourself at the length of your activities. it felt nowhere near that long, contrary to the reading of your digital clock. 12:34 am. geez. you needed a shower.
you wrapped your pink silk robe around your body—the expensive victoria secret one your tippers paid for— and took a loose clean towel with you. you hummed to yourself, making your way towards the bathroom when you bumped into clark.
“whoa!” you exclaimed in surprise.
“oh! so sorry, honey,” he threw his arms up in defense. it would be cute if the honey didn’t make you jolt in place.
“wh- what?” you looked like a deer caught in headlights just upon hearing the nickname.
“sorry,” he said again, taken by your own surprise. “didn’t mean to scare you.”
nicknames weren’t uncommon between you and clark. although you weren’t anything more than friends, clark didn’t shy away from the sweet occasional honey, or sweetie. you supposed after the events of your previous stream only being mere moments ago that you couldn’t help but be startled by the nickname.
“that’s alright, clark.” you said with a gulp, continuing on your path to the bathroom.
he nodded and let you past before you stopped in the doorway.
when you squinted, you swore you could see rubble in his hair, little specks adorning the crown of his head. he looked strange, his clothes ruffled and flannel shirt inside out like he’d only just changed before coming in, like there was something about his appearance he didn’t want you to see. maybe he’d just had a hookup. the thought made your heart sink a little bit. like you weren’t just fucking yourself on cam for millions of people to see.
“clark, come here.”
his eyes widened with worry, cautiously moving towards you.
you picked the rubble—little specks or whatever they were—from his hair, patting his head down with a shy smile after you finished.
“there. you just had something,” you clarified. clark was so tall you craned your neck a bit to look up at him. it was unlike any other time you interacted or talked together, only, this time, it felt oddly tense—unspoken secrets between the both of you seemed to thicken the air. you cleared your throat when you nodded. “busy night?”
“yeah. you wouldn’t believe…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his head. “you?”
“uhhh…no. just stayed in. nothing much,” you laughed nervously. “i’m just gonna…” you gestured to your towel and the shower behind you.
“of course! don’t let me keep you,” he emulated your nervous laughter before you smiled and clicked the door shut. a shaky sigh left you as you slid down against the door, where clark still stood behind, eyes boring into the blank white of it.
clark seemed utterly stumped for the first time in what felt like ages. he had to stick through the aggravated cries of perry yelling about clark’s blank screen throughout his 8-hour shift. it wasn’t like there wasn’t anything interesting to write about; just the previous night when he’d stumbled in late when you were doing god knows what at that ungodly hour—he’d been strangling some extraterrestrial beast to its knees as superman—not before changing into some ragged flannel in the case that you’d be up and see him doing an awkward dance back to his room in your shared apartment—which you did. he sighed to himself. fucking writer’s block.
he was beat, and in spite of your sweet encouragement throughout the day, couldn’t bring himself to write more than a few words. so, he saved the shit for home, like any true procrastinator would. he made his way to the computer when you were out on some errand, getting your laptop fixed that he was unaware you even had, and how you had it.
he signed in to see you were still logged in. it was an unspoken thing that both of you logged out after each use, so he was surprised to see windows still opened. “oh gosh,” he yelped, seeing an ad of a half-naked blonde woman on the screen—one of those sketchy, almost comedic ads reading “annie from metropolis is fifteen miles away from you and wants to play.” he clicked off the ad after staring for much too long. it was probably one of those ads to the bootleg websites you loved so much to pirate movies, that clark argued was morally wrong. that’s what he figured it was, anyways. only to see—
“oh, fuck!” clark couldn’t stop the curse from leaving his mouth any quicker than it happened.
clicking the pop-up ad only revealed something worse, it seemed. he was met with the sight of you. well, bits and pieces of you. nonetheless, he connected the dots that it was you obscenely quickly. it all seemed to make sense, his worst suspicions confirmed when he clicked on a video of one of your live archives against his better judgment.
although all he could see of your face was your red lipstick, he couldn’t shake the certainty that it was you, all you. he’d know those lips anywhere—that special red you saved only for special occasions (or so he thought) that bedspread and bedframe, the stuffed animal peeking in the corner barely hidden from the frame that he’d got you for your birthday. your complexion and figure were the same.
it registered to him that he’d hear you moan into your pillows on occasion, when you’d thought he couldn’t hear or wouldn’t be back home for awhile—then hear you murmur as if you were talking to someone. it all seemed to make sense now. the video he clicked on was your most recent. the time published read 12:32am. just moments before he came home. no wonder you’d looked so flustered. while he was trying to hide that he was adjusting his pants seeing you in that pretty pink robe—and scared that you’d seen it and wanted to confront him, only to remove the rubble from his hair. oh, he was screwed.
he scrolled past the first few moments. his mouth fell slack open seeing you inch the fake cock inside your wet heat, that for so long he admittedly wanted to see. he tried to shake the thought but made no effort to click off the video. he recognized the toy, one that he’d remorsefully seen after rifling through your bedside table for some batteries he’d left in your room after changing your smoke alarm. needless to say he never went in without your permission again.
well, there was the time he’d come in for your laundry, taking your dirty used panties to his nose with some guilt. his slacks began to tighten as he continued watching you; listening in intently on your wanton moans, your cries on that fake cock and that tongue flicking on your clit. the toy worked your cunt hard while you played with your tits, arching back into your pillows.
“golly, i’m sorry baby…” he apologized as if you were there when he finally freed his aching hard cock from his boxers, rising from within its confines. he stroked it slow, coaxingly, as if hesitating now would make him any less guilty of what he was doing.
“so pretty,” he murmured, his eyes ran over the lace lingerie perfectly hugging your body. in all your years of friendship he was in disbelief that he never got the privilege of seeing you this way. god, he loved those crotchless panties. he wished it was you making you feel this way, your face twisted in pleasure, mouth fallen open and eyes screwed tight shut. he spat into his hand to make his cock slick and slide his hand up and down on it with more ease. “you’re unbelievable.” he was moaning out with you, quickening his strokes timing with the hard thrusts of the toy hitting deep in your cunt. he brought a teasing thumb to his leaky pink tip, the other reaching down to his heavy balls. “you make me so sensitive…”
he began to stroke faster, faster than the speed at which your toy was slamming into you. “gosh!” he cried, cumming when you did—your moans, that visible, prolonged clench of your pussy hard around the toy, and the final arch of your back egged him on. the video continued playing while he panted after a short huff. guilt began to gnaw at him when he heard you say, “shit. roomie’s back. don’t want him to hear me talking to you guys. great as he is, he doesn’t know about my side gig and i don’t want him to hear about it any time soon.” it occurred to him again that he’d found your account and explored it of his own volition…without you permission. “oh no…oh gosh…” his head fell into his hands. he was unsure how he’d go about pretending he never saw what he did from here on out. he suddenly realized why you’d been logged in from here—to see the stats of your income from the site on the right sidebar beside your videos—pushing tens of thousands, much to clark’s disbelief. or belief—he could in fact fathom the idea that this many people would want to watch you offer you up this much money. it was likely you had to use your shared monitor to check your earnings as your computer had been broken.
maybe he’d missed that janky knock of your keys slamming into that shitty door the way it always did, because—
“clark?” you exclaimed with a gasp, seeing him sat there with your lingerie-clad body blown up on the screen. his hands want to cover his crotch in a frantic hurry, and wipe at the cum on the front of his slacks and the keyboard.
It was your first real move, your first apartment wasn’t far from your parents house, unfortunately, so when the opportunity to move somewhere far, far away presented itself you were gone with the wind.
The apartment you found was perfect, a big one bedroom flat with many windows. Though the two windows in your room were directly across from someone else’s apartment, it didn’t take away from the views you had in your living room.
You signed the lease, got the keys and you were letting the movers bring your boxes in, in no time. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be all alone in such a big spot like this.” One of the movers joked, you rolled your eyes.
“You should have someone strong around to protect you.” He flexed his biceps in some corny manner, trying to flatter you somehow; yet it only seemed to give you the ick.
“No need.” You whistled, first came jaws, a tiny puppy you’d recently picked up from the pound. He was an absolute sweetheart and you clicked with him from the first time you met him “I have Jaws!” You smiled, now holding the pup in your arms.
“This little guy? He doesn’t seem like he’d hurt a fly!” The himbo in front of you folded his arms over his chest. “Who said I just had one?” You whistled once more “Binks!” You called, to which came running a larger dog.
“Holy shit.” He took a step back, the Rottweiler sat at your feet, panting happily. “Binks is three in a few weeks, she’s friendly, trust me.” Binks was another rescue, she was always so friendly with new people but she knew when playtime was just about over.
“I think we’re just fine here, thanks though!” You forced a smile.
Once the men were done moving everything in, you spoke with their supervisor, making sure everything was taken care of. “Oh and the spare you gave us will be taken care of, we have special services that repurpose any keys that aren’t needed.” You furrowed your brows, it was suspicious but you didn’t want to argue it too much.
They had an option for you to allow them a spare key in case you weren’t home for them to move you stuff in, which sounded reasonable at first but now, you were starting to regret it.
“Are you sure that’s, you know, safe? Legal even-”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head, it’ll be melt down my eleven tonight. I’ll make sure of it.” He smiled, he seemed set on it — probably some sort of commission, maybe it was just part of the job. Though something did feel off about it, you let it go.
You planned how you wanted to decorated the place but of course, that wouldn’t get done until atleast the end of the week. So instead you decorated your room the best you could, hell you even went as far as setting up your desk and cam stuff to maybe even stream a little; get a bit of extra pocket change.
Sitting in front of your laptop with the website pulled up, you were just about ready to go live and then you remembered, turning slowly to the window, you had no curtains.
“Fuck me!” You got up, walking over to the window you analyze your neighbours room. Whoever they were, they had a lot of cool stuff lying around and an easel? Did you manage to move in next door to a painter?
As if on cue, you saw through the open bedroom door the hallway light turned on. You decided to keep watching, so you did just that, crossing your arms over your chest as you observed.
It was a girl, maybe around your age, she was cute you wouldn't lie, but she looked stressed. She didn’t notice you — not yet at least — she tossed down her side bag and began rummaging through the place.
Searching for something until she seemingly found it, a sketchpad? She dropped it down onto the desk in front of the parallel window, still too focused to notice you, she began flipping through the pages clearly muttering to herself.
It wasn’t until she stood up straight, running her hands through her hair, her eyes caught yours and she froze. Now this, this was awkward, the girl was very clearly embarrassed to be caught brainstorming whatever it was she was doing and you — you were people watching, a normal occurrence for you actually.
You both blinked a few times before you decided to give her a small wave and smile, hoping to come off as friendly. She looked behind her then back to you before pointing at herself; she couldn’t be this dense?
You nodded your head, giggling to yourself; cute, probably talented and funny? What a score.
She nervously waved back, you came up with the smart idea to open the window. Looking down at the locks you tried to decipher them before attempting just to make yourself not look stupid, fucking architectures and their complex living designs.
You thought, why not ask your neighbour? Turning your attention back to her you were met with closed curtains, your stomach sank, was it something you’d done? You tried to shrug it off and sat back at your desk, it ruined your mood, even if you could stream you didn’t even really want to anymore.
You typed up a short announcement for your page, letting your fans and followers know that you’d be back in a few days due to your location move. With that, you shut your laptop and plopped down into your bed, Jaws joining you shortly after.
“Hey bud,” you whispered, scratching behind his ear as he flopped over next to you. “I’m not that mean looking, am I Jaws?” You joked, slowly falling asleep as the thought of the girl pacing her room filled your mind.
On the other hand, Ellie was up late, she’d sold one of her pieces earlier that evening but that only meant she had to get to work on her next big thing. “Shit.” She sat on the edge of her bed, her hands pulling at her roots and her knees bouncing.
She could do Salt Lake City, a pretty portrait of what the place would look like post apocalyptic? No, that was too childish. She could do something displaying her personal struggle, but that would be too telling; she didn’t want people to know her personally.
There was so much she could think of but nothing felt right to her, she sighed, laying back in her bed and staring at the ceiling. “Fuck my life.” She muttered, she sat in silence for a bit before turning back to closed curtains.
She felt bad for abruptly cutting of your interaction but she knew she needed her focus, though she was curious, the last person that lived there had their blinds closed all the time; Maybe she should’ve been a bit warmer.
Ellie rose from her spot, slowly walking over to the closed curtains taking a breath before peeking through them. Your room was now dark, but she could still make out your sleeping silhouette on the bed and the small dog you had curled up next to you. “Awe.” She smiled to herself, Ellie had always wanted a dog growing up but Joel had always deemed her ‘not responsible enough’ to handle one.
She stood there watching you, not in a creepy pervy way — maybe just a little bit — but in admiration. You were stunning from what she caught a glimpse from earlier, it made her kinda nervous to have someone as pretty as you just next door.
She sat at her desk, opening her signature sketchbook and beginning to scribble. It was you, your silhouette at the window earlier and you now resting next to your pup, she also drew a small portrait of you with your smile and pretty nose.
All it was missing was your eyes, she couldn’t recall what they looked like and it pissed her off. She spent all night trying to get them right but she couldn’t; she fell asleep at her desk trying to perfect your portrait but alas, her body betrayed her.
You spent the next few days unpacking, Jaws and Binks being your extra set of hands, or paws you should say.
You sat on your couch, Jaws in your lap as you watched ‘Love island’ for the first time. “What the fuck is this.” You muttered to yourself about a hundred times while watching it but you just couldn’t pull yourself away from the screen.
Just as you were about to try and find something else to put on there was a light knock at your door. Jaws was quick to start barking and run to the door, you chuckled. “Alright Jaws, I heard it too.” Padding your way to the door, you weren’t expecting anyone? Who dares disturb you while you're so busy?
When you opened it, you were taken back by the girl before you.
“Hi.” She smiled, very obviously nervous. You gave her a soft smile in return. “Hello.” You greeted playfully.
“I, uh-” She squeezed her eyes shut, thinking. “Sorry, I’m Ellie.” She greeted, sticking her hand out for you to chase, you tilted your head to the side.
“Are you gonna open your eyes, babe?” You giggled, she did, blinking a few times before putting her hand back down. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” You introduced yourself, your name echoing through her head as you smiled at her. She couldn’t collect her thoughts in time, you looked down at her other hand that was pretty preoccupied.
“Is that-” It was a try of two drinks and a small brown paper bag, had she gotten you breakfast? “Oh, yes. Yeah, I didn’t know if you drank coffee or liked tea, so I got you a hot chocolate. Can’t go wrong with that.” She handed you the cup, her hands stained with colors which confirmed your suspicions from the other night; she was a painter.
“Still warm.” It melted your heart, not completely, but you did feel that sting at the back of your throat; the one that only meant one thing, tears.
“I also brought you something to go with it, a croissant, freshly baked.” She handed you the folded paper bag, breakfast in bed? She was pulling so many strings.
“This is so sweet, thank you, what do I owe this pleasure?” She smiled.
“Nothing, I just wanted to properly introduce myself to my new neighbour. I wasn’t all that nice the other night.” She fidgeted in her spot, kicking the ground.
“Don’t apologize, I was- people watching. I’m sorry.” Her apologetic eyes made your stomach jump, something about her was just so intriguing and you wanted to find out what it was. “Uh- would you, like to come in?” You opened the door a bit wider, trying to invite her in.
“I would- love to but I have a meeting with a couple buyers.” She spoke with her hands, it was cute, like a t-Rex with their signature tiny hands.
“Buyers?” You raised a brow, it sounded like what she did was very important. “Yeah, I do art. Well not do, I make art, well- I paint.” She corrected.
“Oh I see,” You smiled, an idea coming to mind. “Well I don’t wanna hold you here any longer, don’t want you to be late or anything.”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “I’ll see you around then?” You asked and she nodded, you bid your goodbyes, as she was heading to the elevator you stuck your head out the door one last time.
“Ellie?” You called, she spun around on her heel, stopped in her tracks. “Maybe you could paint me one day?” You could see the color rise to her cheeks, before she could answer you, you started again.
“You know, like one of your French girls? If you catch my drift?” You smiled wide before disappearing into your apartment.
Ellie’s mind was filled with nothing more than your silhouette, your smell, your smile and your eyes. Sitting in the small conference room, her coffee had gone cold and she’d barely drunk it “like one of your French girls?” She whispered to herself for the thousandth time, smiling to herself; were you flirting with her?
“Ellie?” She turned to Dina, her best friend and basically manager “Can you do this?” She asked, her voice was stern, this was serious. Of course Ellie had sold the painting at the gallery from the night before but now she needed to solidify the price and figure out if they had any other inquiries.
“Yeah, yeah, I got this. In the bag.” She slouched back in her chair, trying to play it cool but the blush that started at your apartment never really went away. “We’re so fucked.” Dina sighed quietly as the buyers entered the room.
“Mister and Misses Nelson! Hello, how are you?” Dina put on her best ‘servicing voice’ she called it — just another way of her saying customer service tone, but she’d never admit that — greeting the married couple.
“I’ve got this.” Ellie reassured herself quietly.
Ellie bursted through her apartment door, tossing down her side bag and shrugging off the sweater she wore. “Fucking idiot.” Kicking her shoes off, she began to pace, now you’d think that she flunked the sale, that the Nelsons walked out and she didn’t get a single penny; well that’s not the case.
She sold, and it was huge, the Nelsons brought in her biggest cheque to date. A hundred and fifty thousand dollars, her chest tightened when she heard it; she was always so used to a mere three thousand, eight thousand, and on some occasions maybe ten thousand, but this? This was big.
That wasn’t the cause of her panic, no, the Nelsons wanted more than the one piece. They’d offered her a contract, they wanted her to do three more pieces.
They’d pay her twenty-five thousand a piece, present them at a high end showcase and go 75/25 on the finalized prices — and no she wasn’t on the short end of the deal, they were giving her most of the profits.
The only issue, Ellie’s pieces as of late had been lack luster in her eyes. Stuff she wouldn’t even sell on eBay in her opinion, the deal was perfect, she couldn’t just pass it up but how the fuck was she supposed to get out of an art block that she’s been facing for almost two months now?
She hadn’t realized she paced herself right into her room, maybe it was for the best because the first thing that popped into her mind was you. Curiously, she sat at her desk, same sketchbook, same spot, now though your environment had changed.
You had curtains now, a pretty pink with a leopard print decorating it, though you hadn’t closed them.
You sat in front of your webcam, wearing nothing more than a large t-shirt and your underwear. You felt lazy tonight, but you had a small fanbase to feed.
Sugama12 left a $25 dollar donation! -> you look so cute tonight.
“Awe you’re so sweet, I’m still unpacking so no special outfit tonight. Can you guys forgive me?” You pouted to the camera, waiting for something to come in.
user398760826: of course !!!
wetpussluvr9: flash us ur tits and maybe we will?
pinksilicone✓ left a $75 dollar donation! -> glad to see you back baby, I know ur hiding that delicious cunt from us.
You rolled your eyes playfully “Penny,” you whined, you made mutuals with Penny when you first started, she taught you everything you needed to know about caming; also taught you how to handle such a crowd.
“Fine you caught me, but you guys have just been so good to me for my first stream back.” You licked your lips, very obviously sneaking a hand between your thighs.
“It just makes me so, I don’t know- horny.” You whimpered, pushing away from the desk in your rolling chair, giving your viewers a peek at your hand down your underwear.
tealblu: ohmygoddddddd
oliveeeerrrrr: that’s so hot
titfckr: been waiting for this all day
Doubleaanderson left a $100 dollar donation! -> take ‘em off.
You smiled, your eyes low, senses filled with pleasure. “Anything for you baby.” You giggled before doing so, your pussy on full display.
“Ta-da.” You smiled, using your fingers to spread yourself. “I’m drenched.” You whined.
giggleshits14: so fucked out and so pretty, god I’ve seen what you’ve done for others
tealblu: slowdown, I can t type wit on e hand we ll
wetpussluvr9: I feel fed.
user398760826: squirting contest !!!
Doubleaanderson left a $150 dollar donation! -> cum, yeah.
pinksilicone✓ left a $350 dollar donation! -> fuck that baby, squirt, yeah.
Thank god for Penny.
“Yes, mommy.” You whined happily, stuffing your cunt with three of your fingers. Pumping them in and out at a steady pace, your jaw hanging slack as your whimpers and whines grew louder.
“Oh my-” There it was, the gush of sweet release. Your stomach caved in as you watched yourself come undone, your floor now resembling one of a swim deck; you had a mess to clean up later.
pinksilicone✓ left a $100 dollar donation! -> good job baby!
Doubleaanderson sent a $500 dollar donation! -> good girl.
You pulled yourself back to your desk, missing the puddle of your own pleasure by inches. You smiled tiredly. “Thank you baby,” you tried fixing your now messy hair.
“Now if you loves don’t mind, I have a mess to clean. I’ll come for you guys another time?” You smiled, many pings coming in as you blew a short kiss to the camera before logging off for the night.
Ellie was astonished at the show you’d just put on, her heart was racing, the beat matching the one between her legs as well. Not only were you drop dead gorgeous in her eyes but you knew your body like the back of your hand, something about it made warmth pool in her underwear.
She needed you, in more than one way, ways that would probably freak you out but god. It was beautiful.
Maybe she should’ve stopped gawking, as you relaxed back in your chair, pushing away from your desk as you let out a long sigh of relief, you smiled to yourself. Slowly turning towards your window, you opened your eyes causing you to shoot up in your chair.
Come to find out, you hadn’t closed your blinds that entire time and to your surprise there sat none other than Ellie at her window very obviously having watched your entire show from her window.
Without thought you quickly got up and shut your newly bought curtains “I’m so fucking stupid.” You muttered to yourself as you held the curtains closed, you probably just scared off the girl of your nonexistent dreams. She’d probably label you a perverted freak, probably move out — seeing as she just found out she lives next door to a camgirl — tell her parents about you and they’d air your business out like dirty laundry to their neighbours.
“Fuck!” You threw yourself onto your fresh spread.
On the other hand, Ellie’s brain was moving like clogs. She sketched you so many times she couldn’t count them all, your pleasured face and your finger stuffed cunt. She imagined you in so many different positions and poses she couldn’t keep them bottled up, it gave her an idea.
She tried to sleep, but she couldn’t get you off her mind. She checked the windows to see if you’d opened your curtains, but still they remained shut. Ellie couldn’t help it, she got up around nine that morning, brewing a cup of black coffee and standing in front of a large empty canvas.
“This is pervy.” She whispered to herself before begin the sketch.
Dina once told Ellie about a flower “Clitoria ternatea” also known as the butterfly pea, Dina explained that it resembled the clit pretty well. Like mother nature's very own pretty pussy in all its glory, searching up a few photos, Ellie shrugged.
“Fuck it.”
She was on a role, or so she thought.
It took Ellie days to finalize the sketch, but once it came time to get to painting she was stuck. She felt as if she'd ruined the image if she added color to it, she was frustrated.
She held the paint filled brush inches away from the canvas, hesitating. “Are you fucking kidding me.” She put the brush down before running a hand over her face, she huffed, staring at the sketch before her.
The thought of you coming back to her, it brought back that warm feeling in her stomach and the clench between her thighs. “Mm- fuck.” She shifted, trying to fix her underwear.
Still uncomfortable, still wet. “Shit.” She muttered, she took a moment to think to herself, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to-
“No, fuck that.” She began pacing, even peeked through her curtain to see what you were up to. Your curtains were wide open but the place was empty, just your two pups on your bed cuddled up together, sleeping.
“Of course, she’s not home.” She muttered, walking back to the piece she was working on. It felt as if the painting had gotten bigger, as if when she turned her back it doubled in size.
“No. No! It wasn’t this big before!” She grumbled, the flower was intimidating, the empty lines pleading for color. The white fabric seemed to be discolouring by the second, the image was distorting itself before her.
“Fuck off, Fuck. Off.”
She slammed her room door shut, shutting her curtains and dimming the room lights. Maybe it’s what she needed, a break from the brainstorming; she pulled up her laptop, ready to watch something corny and fall asleep hopefully.
She sat at her home screen for a minute, her mind wandering to none other than you. She glanced at her curtains, she could tell your lights were still off; you hadn’t come home yet.
“This is weird.” She whispered to herself as she opened her browser, switching to incognito and as if on cue she got a text from Dina.
The Man (Dina): Nelson's found a showcase, three months away.
her heart dropped.
The Man(Dina): big spenders, big opportunity. bring ur best els, i know u can.
It was all too much, she wasn’t used to such high stress situations like this. A time crunch? She didn’t do that shit, it took her in total a month over the span of eight months to complete one piece and now she was pushing out orders like a machine?
She sighed “Gotta loosen the screws somehow.” Ellie didn’t know where to start exactly, so she opened Instagram and searched your name. There you were, even your socials were pink — even if the layout was black, you somehow made it radiate a pretty pink.
Scrolling through your photos only made the girl realize that you were just as gorgeous online, there were thousands of people on your page you’d managed to rack up a solid fifty thousand followers. “Fuck me.” Ellie whispered as she sat up, moving her laptop into her lap.
Her brows creased as she scrolled your page, eventually moving on to your stories which were way more lewd. She eventually came across a clip of you and Penny together “If you wanna see us kiss you should like, click the link!” Penny joked and you giggled, the two of you very obviously sweaty from your previous activities.
Ellie knew better, it was an invasion of your privacy, hell she’d just met you — but it wasn’t a want at this point, no, it was a need.
The link led straight to a pretty pink website, very obviously your page, it was an old stream.
You sat on Penny’s bed, making sure you were live. The comments came flooding in, asking questions about your new location and pretty lingerie set.
“Is it live?” Penny asked, still fiddling with the camera, you shrugged. “You tell me.” You smiled.
“You bitch.”
bushbrigade1998: omg is this a collab?
user1290347865: I know this room.
pussygenie: You&Penny? Same room? This is about to get messy. LOVE.
nightowl5: get on with it.
cl1tf1ndr: that red one piece is stunning on u
katkilla✓: Penny find a new bombshell?
“Kitty? No fucking way!” Penny crawled into the bed next to you, reading the comments from your phone. “What do we owe this big surprise? You already know the answer to that.” Penny smirked at the camera.
katkilla✓: well??? introduce us!
So she did, placing a gentle hand around your throat as she told the audience who you were. “She’s such a good girl, I promise.” Reaching her thumb up and caressing your bottom lip gently.
“So? What should I do with her?” She asked the camera, picking your phone up waiting for a response.
venusclaire: GET, THE, STRAAAAAAAAAAAP
nightowl5: fuck! please!
user6969: oooo mating press!
“C’monnnn, I know you guys can do better than this.” You learned that Penny ran a strict program, no matter how many comments you responded to, you never — ever — take orders from anyone that isn’t donating.
Penny held your chin up with her free fingers, while her thumb remained inside your mouth, pressing against your tongue.
glitterclirz left a $50 dollar donation! -> show us her boobs.
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Penny smiled, putting your phone down in front of you both. Taking her now damp thumb and sucking it clean from any excess saliva, you both giggled.
Penny slid behind you, moving your hair out of the way and resting her head in the crook of your neck “She smells so good, like warm vanilla.” She boasted before shoving her nose into your skin “Penny, oh my god!” You giggled, she undid your bra, letting the Lacey material fall before you.
“Oh my god.” Ellie whispered to herself, setting her laptop back on the bed and sprawling across her mattress as she began skipping through the video.
She got to a point where you’d both stripped down, the camera was no longer mounted now in the hands of Penny as she fingered you open, your moans loud as you gripped the red duvet beneath you.
“Slip me a third- Please!” You begged, staring up into the camera, your eyes watery as if you were on the verge of tears. “So polite,” Penny taunted, but she did what you asked.
“Fuck.” You breathed.
Ellie was infatuated with you, skipping further, the two of you now grinding against each other. The ache between her legs was unbearable in her underwear, yet she felt as if she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the screen; from you.
The camera was mounted once more, but off to the side this time. You were on top, being heavily guided by the girl beneath you “Penny, oh my god!” If you weren’t crying before, you definitely were now. Your voice was high pitched and shaky, your whimpers loud and long as the sound of your two sloppy cunts making out filled the room.
“You’re doing great.” Penny whispered to you, she knew you were overwhelmed but you had an audience to please “Just one more, I know you can, for me?”
And as always, you did what was asked of you, Penny sat up to meet you, your skin colliding and breaths aligning. “You’re so pretty.” Was all you could get out before kissing your best friend as you both finished, you held on to each other tight.
Ellie didn’t bother to stick around to see the rest, if she wasn’t horny before she was now. Scrolling your page, you had a lot of content up, many playlists and popular videos which eventually led her to your most recent upload.
The stream from a few nights ago, she was too deep to turn back now so she opened it. She skipped ahead, getting around to you touching yourself beneath the desk. Ellie didn’t hesitate, flipping onto her back and stuffing a hand down her track pants and underwear trying to follow your lead.
Running gentle circles over her own clit before catching your hand moving a bit quicker “Shit.” She uttered through gritted teeth, picking up her pace with you.
You eventually got around to fingering yourself, Ellie of course followed, sliding her slender fingers in and out of herself at a similar pace “Holy Fuck-”
She stared up at the ceiling, brows furrowed and her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as her stomach tightened. “Oh my-” she heard you whimper one last time but she kept going, feeling herself grow closer by the second.
She said your name like it’d summon you, whimpering in between each call as her orgasm washed over her. It was like a shock of electricity followed by nothing. She blacked out.
What woke her was another ping from her laptop, she stirred in her unconscious state before rolling over onto her still open laptop.
“The fuck?” She rested herself on her elbows, still groggy. Her laptop screen lighting up and reading
‘5:43 AM’
“Oh my god.” She groaned, buried her head into her pillow. Which was interrupted by another ping, she turned her head just enough to see the notification, it was Dina again.
The Man(Dina): I know this is a lot, don’t overwork urself, or anything
The Man(Dina): I kinda need u alive to have a job, yk?
The Man(Dina): No pressure :).
Ellie was still too preoccupied from the previous climax she was coming down from to care, the fuzzy feeling throughout her body and shaky legs. She slammed her laptop shut before flipping over and sighing “I’m too fucked for this.” She muttered before succumbing to her ever most needed sleep.
Her dreams weren’t any help either, you were there, making sure she did everything but sleep in her dreams.
Summary: Johnny is tuned in like always, until the guest moans and he realizes he knows exactly whose cock you’re drooling over
Cw: smut (mdni), voyeurism, sex work (camgirl), masturbation (male), age gap, unprotected sex, fixation/obsession tone, brief ideation of MMF threesome
Word count: 985
Younger!camgirl!reader having a special guest in her live stream, one of the streams where she invites the top donator of the previous month, where the guest is never fully visible to the camera, their face is always just perfectly cut out of the frame even though everything else is kept on full display for the thousands of viewers while they are either being used like a dildo while you fuck yourself dumb or they are fucking into your needy holes like a fuck machine.
This time the special guest was the latter. So incredibly rough yet so obviously caring towards you, something you never experienced before with the other guests — they only ever wanted to use you and that was it, no care or feelings involved. But this guest had no trouble manhandling you into whatever position he wanted you in right before grunting out a “This okay, luvie?”
That wasn't the only difference the viewers could spot between this guest and the previous ones, though — this guest is so much older than you. It was obvious even without seeing his face. His body was enough to give it all away — all solid weight and deliberate movement instead of the frantic show-off energy of the other guests. His hands were larger and rougher, and moved in a way that spoke of age and experience. Above all, the audience could feel it in the way he handled you. Every touch was controlled and full of the kind of authority only a man could have. He held your hips up when your legs gave out from how cock drunk you got, he kissed your spine between thrusts when he took you from the back, he held your jaw and forced you to stare at him when he could tell your focus was going somewhere else. Even through the screen, they all knew this was someone who would ruin you and still make sure you drank water when he was done.
Of course older!Johnny is tuned in for this stream just like he was for all your previous ones. He has never missed a single one since he found you only a month into your camgirl career. It's almost pathetic how he has unknowingly Pavloved himself into being half hard before you even go live. Now he's fisting his cock with the same mix of lust and jealousy he always falls into when he watches you moaning for another man. But this time it's different, it’s not some cocky little shit between your legs, it’s a man, one who’s clearly around Johnny’s age, maybe even a little older. Watching you being fucked by a man like that twists something low in his gut.
He hates it. Hates how much it turns him on, how good you look taking it from this guest. But worse than that, he hates how much he gets off on it. On how hot it is that you're making such pretty noises — that aren't fake like with the others — for someone who looks almost similar to him. It makes him want even more to be the one stretching you open, whispering praises into your hair while thousands of viewers beg for more. All he can do is watch, stroke himself raw to the sound of your needy little noises, and hope that someday if he just donates enough, tips the right way, waits patiently like a good fucking boy, you’ll finally let him be the special guest.
It takes less than five minutes for Johnny to get completely lost in pleasure as he watches this man bounce you on his lap with a tight grip on your waist, changing positions easily just to fuck you from the back while forcing your face down into the frilly pillows (never hard enough to keep the viewers from hearing your blissed out moans and gasps, though).
But it takes Johnny almost the entirety of the stream and two back-to-back orgasms to get out of his haze enough to realize it. He feels his breath catch in his throat and his hands come to a stop as his eyes are suddenly stuck on the arms that hold your body up. His eyes go wide when he stares and confirms that he does know the exact tattoos that cover this guest's arms and chest.
Now he hears the guest moan instead of the vague muffled groans from the start of the stream. And of fucking course the second that voice spills out clearer, cooing something soft and filthy down at you in that familiar brute British drawl, Johnny freezes. Every muscle goes tense, his grip going still at the base of his cock as recognition slams into him like a punch to the stomach.
He can tell the discovery should have pulled him out of the lustful haze he’s been drowning in since the stream started, but he can feel his cock twitch at the sight of his Lt. forcing his favourite — only — camgirl to take his cock down her throat. The camera captures just right the way Simon has your jaw stretched wide, your eyes glassy, your throat bulging with the thick shape of his cock as he slides it deeper.
Johnny should look away, he knows that. But instead, his hips buck up into his fist like they have a mind of their own and his eyes are locked to the screen.
He can’t stop watching and imagining what it must feel like to fuck his cum into your dripping cunt while Simon’s hand fists your hair, with his calm, ruined voice pouring praise and filth into your brain, his cock shoved down your throat like it belongs there. But fuck if he isn’t still stroking himself anyway, cock twitching with every wet choke and every smug little groan his lieutenant lets slip.
the sounds of pornographic moans fell out of the brown-skinned woman’s mouth, her perfectly arched eyebrows were currently slightly furrowed as her dark-brown orbs rolled slightly back into her head. she plunged the purple dildo in and out of her gushing pussy. heat radiated off of her sweaty skin. “oh fuck!” she moaned as she felt herself become closer and closer to reaching her peak. “feels so good.” she exclaimed using her free hand to grope her breasts, and using the hand that was guiding the dildo in and out of her to speed up it’s pace.
the sounds ‘ping, ping, ping,” erupted from [ ♡ ] ‘s computer screen. her livestream was currently going crazy, she had men and women tipping her various generous amounts of money. some, even sending her gifts for her to try in her next video or livestream. “t-thank y-you so much for the gifts!” she moaned out as her hips began to slightly buck and meet the dildo’s thrusts, “‘m so close.” she whined. her breaths becoming slightly shallow as moans began to take over her vocal cords.
she pried her hand away from her breast, before reaching it down to her clit and rubbing it in small, fast, and tight circles. the sensation bringing her even closer to her peak. after a while she felt a knot form in her stomach, and with a few more strokes of her dildo, she orgasmed. her muscles tensed, and her back arched off of the mattress. she came with a loud euphoric scream. once her high wore off, she pulled the dildo out of her hole and her sticky cream gushed out of her pussy and flowed onto her sheets.
[ ♡ ] brought her hand down to her essence and using her middle finger and ring finger to gather some of her juices before plunging her digits into her mouth and sucking on them as she started straight at her laptop. the sight of her unclothed, her tits sitting up perky, and her pretty dangly belly ring shining because of the light projected from the ring light. her legs spread out on her bed, putting her pussy on full display. juices gushing flowing in a gentle and unbroken stream, with her fingers in mouth as she sucked on them truly looked like something straight out of a porno,
her cheeks began to hallow as she sucked on her fingers harder, after a few seconds of sucking she pulled her fingers out. they released with a “pop” sound. and a trail of saliva flowed out. she let out a airy dragged out before propping herself up off of her back and leaning towards her computer. her pretty brown tits completely in the computer’s view. “thank you all for tuning in, i really appreciate all the gifts. until next time;” she spoke batting her eyelashes and ending the live stream. she closed her laptop with a sigh before getting out of her bed and sauntering over to her bathroom.
without hesitation she turned on her shower and allowed the water to run, she then grabbed a towel and some soap out of her counter’s cabinet before mindlessly slipping into the shower. she grabbed her body wash that was sitting in the corner of her shower, before opening and squirting it into her towel and lathering it up. she then used the soap covered towel to wash her sweat covered body.
after thirty minutes she stepped out the shower before grabbing a clean body towel, wrapping it around her, and walking into her bedroom. and after twenty minutes, she was fully dry, moisturized and dressed. she swiftly took her soaked sheets off her bed and carried them into the laundry room before loading them into the washer. minutes later she was putting new sheets back onto her bed before climbing in it and grabbing the remote to the tv that hung on her wall.
she then scrolled through options of television shows to watch before settling on watching abc’s “abbott elementary”. the comedic jokes made [ ♡ ] laugh each time. after watching about three or four episodes, she was interrupted by a sound erupting from her closed computer. she furrowed her brows before reaching over and opening the computer. before she could register anything, she noticedhad a new notification.
‘stackthatmoney’ requested a one on one session!
i cut it off right here for plot purposes… anyways. i’m so so happy that my account is back now. i genuinely thought i was a goner.. like genuinely. i DID NAWT wanna start all the way over omg. could yall imagine?? over a year’s worth of work. i almost cried omg! it happened while i was in the middle of writing too.
A/N: OMG last part???? I'll finally stop edging you <3
Pairing: Biology Professor!Bucky x Camgirl!Student!Reader
Warnings: SMUT!!!!! cam girl shit, reader is kind of liking making Bucky suffer. Bucky loves to suffer. Semi public sex.
Words: 4.7k
Summary: Professor Barnes is the absolute worst type of professor. He doesn’t know how to teach, he wants you to already know all the answers. And you… poor you, living for academic validation.
The clock on Bucky’s wall read 11:42 PM. His laptop pinged with the familiar alert, a little bubble popping up in the corner of his browser with your username and a green hue around your username.
Streaming now.
His heart rate increased, hand hovering over the trackpad.
He clicked the notification. Your profile filled the screen — the same pink glow, the cropped camera angle, the toys lined up neat. The live indicator pulsed bright red in the corner.
Bucky’s fist clenched. He didn’t log in. Not this time.
He just sat there, watching your thumbnail from the landing page, the little green bubble beside your username glowing — a beacon. Tempting him. Mocking him. His whole body ached with want, every nerve screaming at him to click.
But he didn’t.
He stared until the bubble finally flickered grey, the screen going dark. Only then did he shut his laptop, heart hammering.
On your side, the session ended with your usual little sign-off, tips scrolling in a chaotic blur. You leaned back, stretching, sweat still prickling at your neck.
Then your gaze flicked to the profile viewer panel.
There it was. That username. Brooklyn_1917. Logged in. Present. Green bubble glowing.
But not in your stream.
The ache settled low in your stomach. He’d been there, hovering. Watching the doorway but refusing to walk through. You shut the page with a shaky laugh, muttering to yourself, “Guess you didn’t miss me tonight.”
That happened a couple more times in the span of two weeks. You saw him online, he would read the stream caption on the thumbnail on your profile and not join. You'd end the stream frustrated and pouty. He'd go try to jerk off in the shower without your voice in his head and failed to cum if he succeeded in keeping the thoughts of you away.
Bucky sat on the edge of his bed, laptop on the nightstand, unopened. His hands were fisted in his sheets, jaw aching from how hard he clenched it.
He wasn’t going to do it. Not again.
He’d promised himself after that night at O’Malley’s, after he tried to transfer you from his lab and failed, that he’d stop. He was your professor. You were his best student. He had no right.
But then he thought about the way you’d looked up at him in the lab today, goggles perched crookedly on your head, asking for his input on your assay results with that eager little crease in your brow.
You’re still my favorite.
The words replayed like a heartbeat, steady, unstoppable.
You're mine too, sweetheart.
His resolve cracked.
With a low curse, he snapped the laptop open, fingers flying on autopilot. The site loaded instantly — your profile glowing like shiny artifact in Indiana Jones. Live.
And when your voice spilled through his headphones, sweet and low, his chest clenched so hard it hurt.
“Missed you, babies,” you whispered, breathy against the mic. “Think you can keep up with me tonight?”
On your screen, your viewer list updated.
Brooklyn_1917 has joined.
The moment it flashed on the viewer list, Bucky knew he was fucked. His hand was already shoving his sweats down, cock heavy and aching, precum wetting the tip.
And then you started talking.
“Mmm, look who finally showed up,” you purred, dragging your fingers down your stomach, nails scraping lightly as you spread your thighs for the camera. The lace between your legs was damp, clinging. “Had me thinking you didn’t want me anymore.”
The chat went wild, but Bucky’s eyes locked on you alone. His fist wrapped around himself, stroking slow, biting down a groan.
“Missed you so much,” you whispered, slipping the lace aside to reveal glistening folds. The toy buzzed to life in your other hand. “Been so fucking needy. Could’ve cried when you didn’t log in.”
Bucky’s head fell back, jaw tight. Christ. You were aiming it right at him. You knew. You knew.
Was it smart to do that? No. You told him you didn't mind, that you could stay in his lab and stay professional. Hell, you suggested that he just stop watching the streams, so why did it sting so hard when he actually stopped?
And why did it feel euphoric when he joined again? Three weeks until the end of the semester, and he couldn't wait 22 more days?
You sank the toy against your clit, moaning loud enough to make the chat explode. “Oh, fuck, I needed this. Needed you.” Your free hand tugged at your top, pulling it down until your breasts spilled free, nipples tight in the cool air.
“You like watching me play with myself, Brooklyn?” you teased, pinching one nipple until you hissed. “Bet you missed it. Bet you missed me whining your name while you stroked your cock.”
The comments scrolled fast:
SweetTooth92: “god she’s filthy tonight”
BlueScreen69 tipped $60: “show us how wet you are baby”
Brooklyn_1917 tipped $150. “I missed every bit of you.”
Your stomach flipped at the message. You whined louder, spreading yourself with two fingers so the toy could grind deeper, slick shining under the lights. “Then don’t leave me again,” you gasped. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
Bucky’s strokes turned desperate, pre-come slicking his fist. Seeing you spread open, begging into the mic, voice trembling— it broke every scrap of restraint he had left.
You moaned, hips grinding hard against the buzzing toy. “Yes—yes, fuck, I’ll be good, Brooklyn, just—ahhh—” You gasped, voice pitching high, deliberately whining the way you knew drove him mad.
“Fuck, I’m so close,” you babbled, toy circling ruthless. “So close, please let me cum—please, I’ll be your good girl, I’ll do anything—” You were begging. For him. For Brooklyn.
His breath punched out of him in a low, guttural growl as his release tore through him, hot and violent, spilling across his stomach in messy streaks.
You whimpered his name as you shattered, body convulsing around the toy, slick dripping down your thighs. The orgasm hit hard, raw, spilling over into little sobs as your fingers shook.
The chat went berserk — endless tips, praise scrolling too fast to read. But you only cared about one viewer. Your eyes fluttered open, catching the glowing name in your list. Still green. Still there.
“Mmmm, good boy.” you whispered into the mic, shaky and soft, like a secret only for him.
The building was nearly empty. Halls echoing, lights dim, the hum of incubators the only sound. You’d promised yourself you’d leave three hours ago… but the assays weren’t quite done. And if you could just get one more run tonight, your data set would be complete.
AirPods in, music buzzing low, you were lost in the rhythm of pipetting and labeling. Lab coat snug, safety goggles pushed up into your hair, you barely noticed how late it had gotten until you finally packaged the fresh plates for incubation.
Reports stacked in your hands, you slipped them under your arm. Barnes always said he wanted updates dropped off promptly, and you were already heading past his office. Quick, easy. He’d never know how late you’d stayed.
Bucky sat slumped in his office chair, long after the faculty wing had emptied. He’d been grading until his eyes blurred, the silence pressing in heavy. A refill of coffee had gone wrong — the cup tipped, spilling hot liquid down his shirt and across his slacks.
“Fuck,” he hissed, pushing back from the desk.
Now he stood at the side table, blotting at his shirt with paper towels. Buttons undone, tie loose, belt unbuckled as he tried to mop the mess off his thighs. The scent of stale coffee clung sharp in the air.
He thought he was alone. Everyone was gone. No reason to think otherwise.
You breezed in, humming faintly with your AirPods still in, lab coat hanging open over your clothes, goggles perched crooked on your head. Reports stacked neatly in your hands, you crossed to his desk, set them down with practiced ease—
And froze.
He wasn’t at the desk.
He was across the room, shirt half-open, pants undone, hair loose around his face as he pressed a wad of napkins to his hip.
You blinked, pulled one AirPod free. “…Professor?”
Bucky’s head snapped up, chest heaving, jaw clenching. “Christ—Y/N.”
You stood there, wide-eyed, goggles still pushed into your hair, a little flushed from the lab’s heat. Absolutely, devastatingly adorable.
And he nearly groaned aloud.
The image was seared into him — you in that damn lab coat, cheeks pink, the faint smell of ethanol and agar still clinging to you. His perfect, brilliant student, standing in his office like you owned it, while he stood there half-undone.
He forced his voice steady. “You shouldn’t be here this late.”
You glanced at the reports, then back at him. “I just finished the extra assays. Wanted to drop these off.”
Extra assays. You’d been working yourself into the ground, chasing perfect data. He should’ve been proud, should’ve been lecturing you about overextending. But all he could think about was how your lab coat gaped open at the front, the curve of your sweater underneath, the faint perfume of ethanol and something sweet that was just… you.
Fuck, sweetheart, if you only knew what I want to do to you right now.
He saw it — a flash, a filthy daydream — you dropping the reports and climbing into his lap, that lab coat slipping from your shoulders as you straddled him. His hand fisting in your hair, tugging those goggles down around your throat while you rode his cock, moaning his name until your voice broke.
The fantasy hit him so hard he almost stepped toward you. Almost reached out, almost ruined everything.
You tilted your head, lips quirking faintly. “Spill something?”
I could clean it up with my mo-
He swallowed hard, his hand still gripping the napkins at his thigh. “…Coffee.”
For a long, unbearable second, the room was silent except for the hum of the overhead lights.
And all he could think was that if you took one step closer, he’d lose the last scrap of restraint holding him together.
You lingered just a second longer, gaze flicking from the undone buttons of his shirt to the napkins in his hand. Then, like it was the most normal thing in the world, you gave him a little smile.
“Well… good thing it was coffee and not hydrochloric acid.”
Bucky’s jaw locked. His knuckles whitened around the wad of paper towels.
You slid your AirPod back in, tapping the reports on his desk as you turned toward the door. “Night, Professor. Thanks for letting me keep the incubators so late.”
And just like that — lab coat swishing, goggles still perched crooked in your hair — you were gone.
The door clicked shut, leaving him alone in the heavy silence.
Bucky slumped back against the table, breathing hard. His cock throbbed painfully against his undone waistband, every nerve in his body screaming with the memory of your flushed cheeks, the way you’d called him Professor so casually.
But the reports still sat neatly stacked on his desk, color-coded tabs poking out. Proof that while he was unraveling, you were thriving.
And he couldn’t decide if that made him want to laugh, groan, or break something.
Bucky sat at his desk, the glow of his laptop washing his face in cold blue. His cursor hovered in the search bar, chest tight, pulse loud in his ears.
One more time. Just one more.
He typed your username with practiced precision, fingers moving on autopilot. The keystrokes felt ritualistic by now, something sacred he could do blindfolded.
Enter.
Nothing.
Profile not found.
He froze. His breath caught, disbelief buzzing in his ears. He refreshed. Searched again. And again.
Nothing.
No pink glow. No list of scheduled streams. No voice spilling through his headphones with that breathy little laugh.
Gone.
Like you’d never existed there at all.
A pit opened deep in his gut. His secret ritual — the thing that had kept him breathing through endless nights, the thing that was half-guilt and half-salvation — ripped away in a single click.
No more late-night streams.
No more teasing lilt.
No more whines pitched high, begging please, Professor into the mic just for him.
It was over.
He slumped back in his chair, dragging both hands down his face, fingertips pressing into his eyes until colors sparked behind his lids.
Finals tomorrow. One last day. One last chance to see you sitting front row, notes neat, gaze steady, pretending like you weren’t the same girl who used to cry for him through tiny laptop speakers.
And then? You’d walk out of his classroom. Out of his life.
And he’d lose you — completely, utterly — before he ever really had you.
The exam hall was suffocatingly quiet, the kind of silence that pressed against the eardrums until even the scratch of pens sounded obscene. Students hunched over their desks, pale and twitchy, shoulders curved into question booklets like their lives depended on it.
Except you.
Front row, middle seat — exactly where you’d been all semester. Your posture was steady, legs crossed neatly under the desk, hair tucked behind your ear as you bent over the exam. Calm. Collected. Your pen moved in smooth, unbroken strokes. Every metabolic pathway diagram crisp, every essay answer structured like you’d been rehearsing them for weeks.
Bucky paced the rows, exam key heavy in his pocket, coffee bitter on his tongue. He told himself to focus on the room — to keep his eyes moving, to be the stern, intimidating professor everyone hated but respected.
But his gaze kept snagging on you.
On the little crease between your brows when you paused to reread a question.
On the way your fingers tapped your pen against your lip before you started writing again.
On the curve of your calves under the desk when you shifted your legs, your skirt sliding higher with the motion.
His chest grew tighter with every stolen glance.
For two hours, he fought a war inside his head.
One part of him was the professor, memorizing the clock, listening for the rustle of turned pages, watching for any sign of cheating. The other part — the darker, hungrier part — spun filthy little daydreams behind his eyes.
He saw you spread across his desk, exam papers scattered around you, his cock buried deep as you begged “Please, Bucky, I’ll be good, I’ll get an A, please let me cum—”
He saw himself bending over you from behind, your skirt bunched at your waist, your pen clattering to the floor while he fucked you through every answer you’d diagrammed so carefully.
He saw your neat handwriting trembling into messy scrawl as he whispered in your ear, “That’s right, sweetheart, write my name down as the right fucking answer.”
Every time your pen paused, he felt a rush of blood headed south of his belt. Every time you shifted in your seat, his palms itched to grip your hips and hold you down.
By the time the clock struck, he was wrecked.
“Time,” he called, voice hoarse.
The sound of papers rustling was deafening in the silence. Students shuffled forward, dropping their exams in messy stacks on the desk before rushing for the door like prisoners freed.
And then there was you.
The last to rise.
You walked slow, exam clutched neatly in your hand, your expression calm but faintly warm. Approaching his desk, you set the paper down, fingertips brushing the top page like you were smoothing it.
Your eyes flicked up. Just for a second.
Sheepish.
Shy.
The barest curve of a smile playing on your lips.
And then you turned, walking out without a word, the swing of your lab coat hem brushing against your calves.
Bucky’s throat was dry. His eyes dropped to your paper. At the very bottom corner of the last page, drawn in careful pen strokes, was a tiny heart.
So small he almost missed it. His breath caught. His chest constricted like a fist had closed around it. And then you were gone.
Gone from the room. Gone from his class. Gone from his reach. Leaving him alone at the desk, staring at the heart like it was both a confession and a farewell.
The halls were hollowed out, stripped of their usual chaos. No voices, no footsteps, just the hum of vents and the echo of Bucky’s shoes as he dragged himself down the corridor. His jacket hung loose in his hand, his whole body weighted with exhaustion.
All he wanted was to collapse into his chair, stare at the tiny heart you’d doodled at the bottom of your exam, and figure out how he was supposed to survive never having you again.
But when he pushed his office door open—
You were already there.
Sitting in his chair, knees tucked under you, claw clip in your hair, exam bluebooks stacked neatly in front of you.
You looked up with a grin that stole his breath. “Oh my god, I thought you’d never get here. I was dying waiting for you to grade those.
Bucky froze in the doorway, heart slamming against his ribs. “…What are you doing here?” He walked a couple more steps into his office and closed the door behind him.
You shrugged, spinning lazily in his chair. “I figured you’d come back. Thought I’d keep you company while you, y’know, put me out of my misery.” You gestured at the stack of exams. “Tell me if I aced it or not.”
His throat worked, finally. “Y/N…”
You tilted your head, eyes glinting. “I think I did pretty well, but.. You never know.”
The air thickened, heavy with everything unsaid — your heart on the page, his username burned into memory, a semester’s worth of restraint trembling on the edge, all of the nights both of you got off together separately.
And then you stood. Slow. Deliberate. Steps closing the distance between you until he could smell the sweetness of your perfume beneath your sweater.
“I’m not your student anymore,” you whispered. Your voice was low, heavy like a hungry jaguar circling its prey. “And my research? Already submitted.” You smiled faintly, wickedly. “Publishable, you said. So I don’t have to be in the lab under you anymore…”
Your hands pressed to his chest, firm enough to guide him back until the back of his knees hit the armchair. He dropped into it with a low grunt, too stunned to resist.
“…I can just be here.” You straddled him with a smooth swing of your leg, skirt flaring as you settled into his lap. Your voice dropped even more, sultry, familiar in a way that made him throb instantly. “…On top of you instead.”
His hands clamped hard to the armrests, knuckles white, every nerve in his body screaming. “Jesus Christ,” he rasped, eyes devouring you.
You giggled, lips grazing his jaw. “Relax. Not breaking the rules now.” You put his hands on your hips. "Y'can touch me."
That snapped him. His grip shifted, palms seizing on your hips, dragging you flush to the thick length straining against his slacks. You gasped, your fingers curling in his shirt, working on the buttons while he captures your lips in a kiss that answered your question from months ago, how good Brooklyn_1917 would be in bed.
His voice was wrecked, raw. “You have any idea what you’ve done to me all semester? Sitting there in my class, raising your hand, looking so damn perfect while I was trying not to think about how you sounded moaning my name?”
You whimpered, rolling your hips against him. “I thought about you too. Every time. Wanted you so bad.” More buttons undone and your nails scraped the skin on his chest.
He groaned, hand snapping up to grip your jaw, thumb brushing your lower lip. “Don’t answer. Just—fuck.” His mouth crashed against yours, hungry, weeks of restraint devoured in a single kiss.
Your moan vibrated against his tongue, your grind desperate against the hard line of his cock.
He tore his mouth away, panting. “Up. Take it off.” You lifted your arms and your sweater was tugged overhead. He helped, impatient, hands roaming every inch of bare skin he revealed.
“God, look at you,” he muttered, kissing down your throat, biting just enough to make you whine. “Smartest girl in the room. My perfect student. And now you’re mine.”
“Yours,” you gasped, grinding down.
His fingers slipped between your thighs, finding you slick. You cried out, clutching his shoulders as he teased your clit. “Already wet for me,” he groaned, sliding two fingers inside, curling them expertly. “Knew you would be. Always so eager to please, huh? Just like in class.” God, if only he could bottle up your breathless little gasps.
“Y-yes, Professor—”
He growled low in his chest, pumping harder. “Not your professor anymore. Say my name.”
“Bucky,” you moaned, back arching. “Bucky—please, more—”
“That’s it.” He kissed you hard again, filthy praise spilling between your mouths. “Good girl. That’s my girl.”
You clenched, trembling, chasing his hand while you undid his belt and fly—until he pulled away, pulling at his slacks with a curse. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed, leaking at the tip.
Your eyes widened, pupils blown. “Please.”
He lined himself up, dragging the head through your slick before pulling you down slow. Both of you gasped as he filled you, the stretch perfect, obscene, and the sting of him would haunt the deepest parts of your brain forever.
“Fuck,” he groaned, forehead pressed to yours. “You feel even better than I dreamed.”
You whimpered, rocking against him, nails raking his shoulders. “Can I move, please—need you—”
And then moved you on him, hands on your hip and thigh, controlling the way you rocked back and forth on his cock. Hard. Deep. Each thrust rattled the chair, your cries swallowed by his mouth as he fucked up into you like he’d been waiting for it forever.
“That’s it,” he panted, snapping his hips. “Take it. My good girl, taking me so well.”
“Bucky—oh my god—” It was a mixture of whine and moan, something quiet to not draw attention to his office but so loud in his head you might as well have been screaming for him.
“Say it.”
“I’m your good girl,” you gasped, clutching him tighter. “I’m your good girl—”
The chair groaned under the force of his thrusts, your body bouncing in his lap, the wet slap of skin filling the quiet of his office.
Bucky’s jaw was tight, sweat running down his temple. He’d spent months denying himself this, months tearing himself apart every time you walked into class, brilliant and untouchable. Now you were wrapped around his cock, and he was drowning in you.
“Fuck—” he growled, teeth grazing your throat. “I can’t—I need you somewhere else—”
Before you could ask, his hands locked under your thighs. With one guttural grunt, he stood, lifting you easily, still buried deep inside.
You gasped, arms flying around his neck, the sudden shift making your walls squeeze tight around him. “Oh—oh my god—”
“Hold on,” he rasped, stalking across the room.
The desk loomed — polished mahogany, neat stacks of papers shoved aside with one sweep of his forearm. He laid you out flat, never pulling out, the wood cool against your back as his body pressed you down.
Then he drew back and slammed home, cock splitting you open deeper than before. You cried out, legs flying up to hook around his waist.
“Bucky!”
“That’s it,” he grunted, pounding into you, desk creaking under the force. His hand braced against the edge, the other gripping your jaw so you couldn’t look anywhere but at him. “Look at me while I fuck you. You’re mine now. You hear me? Mine.”
“Yes—yours—” you sobbed, every thrust rattling through you.
He bent his head, sucking your nipple into his mouth, tugging it until you squealed, then soothing it with his tongue. “Taste so good,” he groaned against your skin. “Could spend all night worshipping you.”
He groaned, snapping harder, the rhythm brutal and perfect. “God, you feel so good. So fucking tight, spread out on my desk taking my cock like you were made for it.”
Your nails clawed the polished wood, your body arching as his thumb found your clit, ruthless and precise. “Please—I’m gonna—”
“Do it,” he ordered, hips slamming into you. “Cum for me. Cum all over my desk.”
Your moan broke, body convulsing around him, pulsing and clenching so hard he saw stars. He drove into you harder, groaning against your throat, "Fuck- where do you-"
"Inside. Please, come inside of-" And before you could even finish your sentence he was spilling deep inside, grinding you down to take every drop.
The office filled with ragged breaths, your limp body draped against his desk, his cock still buried deep inside while he was over you. He kissed your temple, whispering hoarse and quietly. “Good girl. My perfect girl.”
You smiled, dazed, glowing. “Told you… I thrive on your praise.”
His laugh was hoarse, wrecked. He tugged you forward and fell back on his office chair, you sitting on his lap like a prized possession while he savored the weight of you, the ache in his muscles, the dizzying relief of finally touching you.
Neither of you moved.
You just looked at each other.
Your breath was uneven, lashes damp, lips kiss-swollen. But your eyes—soft, glassy, certain—never wavered from his.
Bucky’s hand trembled where it held your waist, thumb stroking without him realizing. He’d fucked you like a man starved, spilled inside you like he’d been waiting his whole damn life—but this part, this silence, was what finally undid him.
Because you weren’t just some fantasy behind a screen anymore. You weren’t just the brilliant girl in the front row. You were real, warm, in his lap, still clenching faintly around him.
And you wanted him. His chest ached with it.
“Y/N,” he rasped, voice hoarse, almost reverent. “Do you have any idea what this means?”
You tilted your head, a slow smile curving your lips. “That you’re mine now?”
His jaw flexed, a laugh catching in his throat. God, you were still teasing—still insatiable. But there was heat in your gaze, too. Something that matched the weight in his chest.
“I can’t… go back,” he admitted, voice low, raw. His forehead touched yours, his breath mingling with yours. “Not after this.”
Your fingers trailed up his chest, nails grazing lightly. “Good.” You kissed him soft, lingering, before whispering against his mouth. “Because I don’t want you to.”
The words sank in, heavy and final, and the reality of it hit him square in the chest. This wasn’t just some release after months of restraint. It was everything.
And even with your body still trembling against him, even with his cock still buried inside you, you shifted in his lap, rolling your hips with a needy little moan.
“Still hard,” you whispered, eyes glinting, wicked and sweet all at once. Bucky’s jaw dropped, his laugh breaking on a groan as you clenched around him again, on purpose this time.
And then — buzz. Your phone lit up on his desk, screen glowing.
You stretched an arm, still lazily perched on his cock, and grabbed it. Your eyes flicked down — and then your whole face lit up.
“Yay!” you chirped, bouncing happily in his lap.
Bucky groaned, head tipping back as the sudden movement clenched around him. “Sweetheart—”
“The registrar approved my enrollment!” you beamed, waving the phone like proof. “I got into your cancer biology class!”
He froze. Then tipped his head back with a guttural groan that was half-despair, half-disbelief. “Aw, c’mon.”
You giggled, kissing him quick, playful, your hips still shifting against him just to watch him squirm. “What? You said I’m your perfect girl. Guess you’re stuck with me another semester, Professor.”
He pinched your hip, narrowing his eyes even as the corner of his mouth betrayed him with a twitch. “You’re trying to kill me.”
You nipped his jaw, grinning. “Mmm… more like keep you alive.”
The chair creaked beneath you, his cock still pulsing inside, your laughter bubbling into his chest.
And Bucky thought, not for the first time — you really might be the end of him.
It started off with johnny (because of course it did), johnny who can’t shut the fuck up when he’s jacking off his leaking chubbed up cock. Johnny who holds up his dick close to his screen as he desperately and pathetically jerks off his cock, his wrist starting to cramp from the speed he’s going.
On his screen is you, tits bouncing, nipples pinched, mouth open while you ride your dildo, sweet little moans leaving past your lips. Johnny who moans so loud, he’s woken up about half the barracks before, it gets to the point where Price sends in a request for sound proofing equipment.
Gaz who gets so fed up that after another one of Johnny’s “sessions”, he quite literally corners Johnny
“Mate, the hell are you watch’n that makes you cum bout 5 times a day?”
Gaz asks johnny as he enters the common room after his “private time”. Johnny who doesn’t shy away from the opportunity to show off his one and only favorite cam girl, immediately pulling out his phone and sitting himself next to Gaz on the couch. Gaz who honestly didn’t expect johnny to pull out fucking receipts of who he called “the hottest fucking lass he’s seen”.
Johnny pulls up a video with you laying on your bed, towel under you to protect your sheets. One of your hands being busy with ramming a dildo into your pussy, vibrator in your ass as your other hand is wrapped around your neck applying light pressure. Johnny holds the phone up with a proud and smug little smirk on his face as he watches Gaz stare in almost disbelief. Johnny watches as Gaz tries to adjust himself in his position as he grabs the phone from Johnny, continuing to scroll through your video library. Gaz screenshotting your profile and sending it to himself before shoving Johnny’s phone into his chest and mumbling a “thanks…” before hurrying off to his barracks.
The interaction with Gaz now had given Johnny the bright idea of getting the rest of his mates hooked on his dear cam girl. Johnny's next victim was a bit more difficult and overall more of a danger approach, lieutenant Simon Riley! To overcome this obstacle Johnny thought the best idea was to blatantly, out in the open, watch his porn where he could get easily caught. He sat on the couch in the barracks blasting his porn and waiting for his lieutenant to walk in after his training session. Johnny, being as inpatient as ever started to palm himself through his pants.
Soap accidentally (purposefully) getting caught with his hands down his pants by his lieutenant. Said lieutenant looking very stern while looming over his Sargent, arms crossed over his chest. “What ya watching there Sargent?” Johnny’s head goes back to look at Simon in his eyes, “she’s just too perfect Si” he almost moans out as he brings his focus back down to the video playing in his hand.
Simon who’s finally fed up with this interaction steps around the couch and in front of Johnny. Johnny takes the opportunity to shove his phone in Simon’s hands. a video of you on your knees sucking a dildo suctioned to your wall as you grind on a boot, tears rolling down your cheeks from the gagging and the overstimulation. “The bonnie is doin’ it for ya, ay Lt.” Johnny hinting at Simon’s growing bulge in his pants. “I could help ya out if ya like~” he grins up at Simon.
Johnnys head bobbing up and down the shaft of Simon’s cock, his hand coming up to squeeze his balls as Johnny takes him all the way to the back of his throat. Simon stands looking down as johnny sucks him off, only he’s not looking at Johnny, the video, your video playing in Simon’s hand him watching you grind and suck as johnny does the same below him. Simon comes without warning as the video plays you squirting all over the boot as your body shakes.
He grabs onto Johnny’s mohawk pulling him down as he cums down Johnny’s throat, pulling out as a bit of his cum dribbles out the side of his mouth. Simon shuts off the phone tossing it on the couch as Simon leans forward, his thumb wiping the cum from Johnny’s mouth. He puts his cock away before patting soap on the cheek and walking away to the showers. Johnny smirks as he slumps back against the couch regaining himself.
Captain John price was an easier plan, he’d simply “accidentally” send his dear ol’ captain a link or two, send a message along with it as if he was talking to a buddy. However this plan was also the most stressful for Johnny, simply for the fact that he didn’t know which videos to pick that would get his Captain going the most. It took Johnny about half a week to decide, after hours of scrolling, before he finally landed on two videos of yours.
One was titled: “ILL BE A GOOD GIRL AND NOT TOUCH MYSELF FOR DADDY <3”
It was you in a skirt with two pretty pink bows in your hair a vibrator in your pussy, you showing the camera how soaked your panties were without you even touching yourself. The video was 20 minutes long of you continuously overstimulating yourself with tears in your eyes.
the second link was one of your only videos with another person, the man never appeared on screen. Only his arms and cock, with his voice sometimes being heard, a thick southern accent. You would play with yourself as you fuck yourself on a dildo. As the man grabbed your face speaking filthy words to you, telling you to open as he spit into your mouth. He’d tell you when to slow down and when to speed up, when to moan and when to shut up. Titled: “DADDY TAKES GOOD CARE OF HIS OBEDIENT LITTLE SLUT <3” the video being on the longer side of 45 minutes
Johnny sends them with a small smirk growing on his lips, his smirk growing wider when he gets a message back from the Captain himself.
———————
(NOT EDITED OR PROOFREAD)
a/n: has been sitting in my drafts unfinished foreverrrrrr
