NOTES : andrew watches his pretty girlfriend with lena and decides they need a child, now!
WARNINGS : established relationship, bimbo! reader, female oral, breeding kink, praise kink, protected sex, reader takes the condom off, prone bone, light choking, andrew has custody of lena!
CONFIDENTIAL MATERIAL ── 18+ ONLY.
the afternoon sun filters through the half-drawn blinds of pope's beachside bungalow, casting warm stripes across the living room floor. lena, his little niece with all seven years under her belt with those big curious eyes and tangled dark hair from her mom's side, perches on your hip like a koala, laughing as you bounce her gently. you're in that sundress he loves—the one with the thin straps and floral print that hugs your curves just right, the hem swishing against your thighs with every movement. your hair falls in soft waves, and you coo at her, making silly faces that have her hands clapping against your cheeks.
pope leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching the two of you with that intense stare of his. his eyes—dark, hungry—fix on you, tracing the way the dress clings to your body as you shift lena's weight. seeing you like this, so effortlessly domestic, playing the part of the perfect, pretty thing in his world, it hits him like a rogue wave. that primal urge surges up, hot and insistent: the need to claim you, to fill you until your belly swells with his seed, his baby. fuck, you're addictive, every giggle and sway pulling him deeper under.
lena's reciting some made-up story about pirates and treasures, her voice high and animated, hands gesturing wildly., but pope pushes off the frame, closing the distance in a few strides. 'hey, kiddo,' he murmurs to her, scooping her off your hip with one arm, planting a quick kiss on her forehead. 'go play in your room for a bit, yeah? uncle andrew needs to talk to... this one.' his voice drops on the last words, rough with promise, and lena nods, scampering off.
he turns to you immediately, hands finding your waist, pulling you flush against him. his mouth crashes onto yours, not gentle—deep, devouring, tongue sweeping in to taste you like he's starved. you melt into it, hands sliding up his damp chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle under your palms. he breaks the kiss just enough to mutter against your lips, 'gonna breed you, baby. fill that pretty cunt till it's overflowin', till you're round with my kid. can't stop thinkin' about it—watchin' you with her like that... fuck, you're mine.' the words tumble out, nonsense laced with raw need, his breath hot on your skin as his hands roam, one sliding down to cup your ass through the sundress, squeezing possessively.
you gasp into his mouth, arousal pooling low in your belly, and he kisses you again, harder, teeth nipping your lower lip. his addiction shows in every touch—the way his fingers dig in just enough to mark, then soothe with a stroke; the press of his growing erection against your thigh. 'so fuckin' perfect,' he growls between kisses, trailing his mouth to your jaw, your neck, sucking lightly there. 'gonna pump you full, make you swell up big for me. yeah? my pretty girl, carryin' my baby.' more muttering, feverish whispers as he backs you toward the couch, hands pushing the straps of your dress down your shoulders, exposing your breasts to the cool air.
he drops to his knees without warning, bunching the skirt of your sundress up around your waist, eyes locked on the sight of your bare cunt—already slick, glistening for him. 'look at you, drippin' already,' he rasps, voice thick with hunger. his hands grip your thighs, spreading them wide as he dives in, tongue flat and broad against your folds. he eats you out like it's the finest meal he's ever had—slow, deliberate laps that build to fervent sucks on your clit, his mouth sealed over you, devouring every drop. the wet sounds fill the room, his tongue plunging inside, curling to hit that spot that makes your knees buckle. you thread your fingers through his hair, moaning, hips bucking against his face, but he holds you steady, groaning into your cunt like he's the one getting pleasured.
'andie—oh god,' you whimper, the intensity making your toes curl. he doesn't let up, humming vibrations against you, lips and tongue working relentlessly until you're trembling, close to the edge. when you finally shatter, crying out, he laps it all up, not wasting a bit, his chin slick as he pulls back, eyes wild and satisfied.
you reach for him instinctively, hand sliding down to palm his cock through his jeans, but he catches your wrist, knocking it away gently but firmly. 'nah, baby. not tonight. need to be inside you—now.' his voice is a low command, no room for argument, as he stands, stripping off his jeans and grabbing a condom from the drawer in the coffee table. he rolls it on quickly, but his eyes never leave yours, dark with that obsessive want.
he guides you down onto the couch, flipping you onto your stomach with ease, your sundress hiked up, ass in the air. you feel the heat of him behind you as he positions himself in prone bone, sliding his cock along your slick entrance, teasing before pushing in slow, inch by thick inch. the stretch burns so good, your walls clenching around him, and he groans, bottoming out with a slap of skin. 'fuck, so tight—gonna breed this cunt, fill it till you're leakin' me for days.' more nonsense spills from him, muttered against your ear as he starts thrusting, deep and controlled, his forearm sliding around your neck from behind—not choking, just holding, possessive, keeping you close as he drives into you.
the pace builds, his hips snapping harder, the couch creaking under you, wet squelches echoing with every plunge. his free hand grips your hip, pulling you back onto him, and he peppers kisses along your shoulder, your neck, between grunts. 'addicted to you, pretty thing. gonna knock you up—swell you with my cum, my baby. yeah, take it all.' his words are fevered, breaths ragged, the breeding talk weaving through the haze of pleasure as he fucks you relentlessly, chasing that high.
you're moaning, body arching, the pressure of his arm around your neck heightening everything, making you feel owned, cherished in his rough way. he slows just enough to ask, voice strained, 'can i fill you up, baby? take this off—wanna cum inside, breed you proper.' his hand pauses on your hip, waiting, eyes boring into yours when you twist to look back.
your heart races, desire overriding everything. you reach back, fingers trembling as you roll the condom off his throbbing cock, tossing it aside. 'yes—fill me up, andrew. breed me.' the words are breathy, needy, and it's all he needs.
he surges forward again, bare now, skin on skin, thrusting deeper, faster. 'fuck yes—gonna pump you full.' his forearm tightens slightly around your neck, holding you in place as he chases release, muttering more about swelling you, making you his forever. when he comes, it's with a guttural groan, cock pulsing as he floods your cunt, hot spurts filling you until it leaks out around him, messy and perfect. he doesn't pull out right away, grinding slow to push it deeper, ensuring every drop stays inside.
finally, he collapses over you, kissing your damp skin softly, arm loosening to wrap around your waist instead. 'my girl,' he whispers, nuzzling your neck, the addiction clear in the way he holds you close, like he can't get enough.
the vought tower conference room loomed silent and empty under the fluorescent hum, homelander's massive leather chair dominating the head of the polished table like a throne begging to be defiled. you'd snuck in here with black noir after hours, your pretty bimbo giggles muffled against his armored chest as he scooped you up effortlessly, his gloved hands already kneading the soft spill of your plush thighs. no words from him, never any—just those intense, soul-piercing eyes behind the mask, and his big hands signing quick gestures: beautiful. mine. want. his fingers traced hearts over your hip before sliding up to squeeze your ass, pulling you flush against the hard bulge straining his suit.
you perched on the edge of homelander's chair, skirt hiked up around your waist, thighs spread wide as noir dropped to his knees between them. his hands worshipped first, palms gliding slow up your calves, thumbs pressing into the dimples behind your knees, then gripping those thick, jiggly thighs hard enough to leave prints through your fishnets. he signed soft. perfect. with one hand while the other yanked your top down, freeing your heavy tits to bounce out, nipples already pebbled in the cool air. noir leaned in, mask still in place, but he hooked a finger under the edge and tugged it up just over his mouth—revealing scarred, pretty lips twisted from old burns and cuts, pale against his dark skin.
those scarred lips latched onto your nipple, sucking wet and deep, tongue flicking the bud while his teeth grazed just shy of pain. you moaned, fingers tangling in the fabric of his mask as he switched sides, slurping loudly, leaving your tits shiny with spit. his free hand roamed your body like a devotee—palms cupping your tits to squeeze and lift, thumbs circling areolas, then trailing down your soft belly to grip your ass cheeks, spreading them wide. he pulled back to sign gorgeous. all mine. before diving lower, scarred lips kissing a hot trail down your stomach, nipping the curve of your hip.
noir's hands dug into your plush thighs, prying them further apart as he buried his face in your pussy, mask tugged higher now. his scarred mouth devoured you—lips sucking your clit hard, tongue plunging into your folds to lap up your wetness with sloppy, starving strokes. spit and your juices smeared his chin, dripping onto the chair as he hummed silent vibrations against you, fingers bruising your ass while he held you open. you bucked, whining his name, but he just gripped harder, signing stay. taste. between long licks that had your thighs quivering around his head.
he rose then, towering over you, hands never leaving your body— one palming your tit roughly, the other yanking his suit open to free his thick cock, veined and throbbing, pre-cum beading at the tip. noir signed need you. now. with frantic gestures, eyes locked on yours as he gripped your hips and flipped you around. you braced on the chair arms, ass up high, plush cheeks jiggling as he slapped them once, twice, watching them ripple. his scarred lips pressed hot kisses to your spine, mask half-up, while big hands kneaded your ass like dough, spreading you wide.
noir lined up, cockhead nudging your soaked pussy before thrusting in deep—one brutal snap of his hips burying him balls-deep. you cried out, walls clenching around his girth as he started fucking you raw, chair creaking under the force. his hands roamed possessive: gripping your plush thighs to yank you back onto him, fingers sinking into the fat there; then sliding to your ass, slapping and spreading as he pounded harder, cock stretching your pussy with every wet slap. scarred lips found your shoulder, kissing and sucking marks while he signed love this. love you. over your back.
the rhythm turned savage, noir's hips snapping forward to grind his cock against your deepest spots, balls smacking your clit. one hand snaked around to rub your swollen nub, the other squeezing your bouncing tit, pinching the nipple. you pushed back, meeting his thrusts, the thrill of homelander's chair making it dirtier—anyone could walk in. noir felt you tighten, his scarred mouth latching onto your neck for a messy kiss, tongue licking sweat as he fucked you through your orgasm, your pussy gushing around him.
he didn't stop, hands bruising your thighs now as he hauled your legs wider, slamming deeper. a final gesture—cum inside?—and you nodded frantically. noir groaned silently, body shuddering as he flooded your pussy with hot spurts, cock pulsing thick ropes deep. he stayed buried, hands stroking your ass and thighs soothingly, scarred lips pressing soft kisses to your skin while you both caught your breath on the defiled throne.
NOTES : frank asked you to dog sit at his new apartment, your boyfriend cant help himself!
WARNINGS : established relationship, bimbo! reader, age gap, accidental exhibitionism, cameras, divorced frank, couch sex, size difference, oral, marriage roleplay, thigh riding, dry humping, fingering, praise, dirty talk, riding, choking.
CONFIDENTIAL MATERIAL ── 18+ ONLY.
you arrive at frank's new apartment building with jack in tow, the sleek lobby humming with the soft whir of the air conditioning and the distant ding of the elevator. your heels click lightly against the polished marble floor, echoing just enough to draw a few glances from the doorman, who nods politely as you pass. frank, looking lighter than you've ever seen him—freshly divorced and radiating that newfound freedom—greets you both at the entrance to his unit on the top floor. he's dressed casually in a button-down and slacks, a far cry from the tension he carried before, and he pulls jack into a quick hug before turning to you with a warm smile.
'thanks for doing this, guys,' frank says, his voice easy as he fishes the keys from his pocket and hands them over. 'the dog's been cooped up all day—name's max, golden retriever, total sweetheart. just feed him twice, let him out in the morning and evening, and you're golden. oh, and ignore the cameras; old habit from the marriage. paranoid ex, you know?' as he explains, his eyes settle on you a moment longer than necessary, softening with a gentle appreciation that lingers—like he's admiring the way your short pink skirt sways with your movements. it's not overt, but it's there, a quiet warmth that makes your cheeks tint pink under his gaze. jack notices it too, his jaw tightening ever so slightly, though he keeps his expression neutral, clapping frank on the back.
'make yourselves at home,' frank adds, grabbing his overnight bag from the hall table. 'fridge is stocked—help yourselves. i'll be back in a couple days.' he gives you one last soft look, almost wistful, before heading to the elevator, the doors sliding shut with a soft chime that leaves the lobby feeling a touch emptier.
the door to the apartment swings open with a click, and immediately, max bounds into view—a fluffy golden blur of energy, tail whipping side to side as he circles your legs, licking enthusiastically at any exposed skin. you laugh, the sound light and bubbly, kneeling down to scratch behind his ears, your fingers sinking into the soft fur. 'hey there, big guy,' you coo, letting him nuzzle into your hand. the place is gorgeous—high ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city lights just starting to flicker on, and a spacious living room that flows into an open kitchen. everything smells faintly of fresh linen and whatever cologne frank wears, clean and inviting.
jack drops the small bag of dog supplies on the counter, his eyes on you the whole time, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he watches you interact with max. at twice your age, with that solid, broad build and the salt-and-pepper stubble framing his strong jaw, he fills the space effortlessly, making the room feel cozier just by being in it. he steps closer, crouching beside you to give the dog a firm pat on the head. 'looks like you've got a fan already,' he says, voice low and amused, his hand brushing yours in the fur—a casual touch that sends a little spark up your arm. max pants happily, leaning into both of you before trotting off to sniff around the couch, leaving you two in a pocket of quiet.
you straighten up, smoothing your skirt with a playful twirl, the fabric swishing against your thighs. 'this place is amazing. think frank's gonna miss it while he's away?' you ask, wandering toward the kitchen island, running your fingers along the cool granite countertop. the city view from here is stunning, the sun dipping low and casting a golden glow through the glass.
jack follows, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, his gaze tracing your form appreciatively. 'doubt it—he's got that spring in his step now. but yeah, not bad digs.' he pauses, his expression shifting just a touch, that earlier look from frank still simmering in his mind. it wasn't much, but it was enough to stir something possessive in him, a quiet urge to stake his claim in this borrowed space. he pushes off the counter, closing the distance between you with unhurried steps, his presence warm and enveloping as he stops just behind you. 'you know, seein' him eye you like that... makes me wanna make sure everything's clear around here.'
his hands find your waist, settling there with a gentle grip, thumbs tracing slow, soothing circles over the thin fabric of your dress. you lean back into him instinctively, feeling the solid wall of his chest against your back, the size difference making you feel small and protected. 'what do you mean?' you murmur, tilting your head to glance up at him, your voice soft and teasing.
jack dips his head, lips brushing the shell of your ear in a feather-light touch that raises goosebumps along your arms. 'just that you're mine, sweetheart. playin' house or not, frank's soft spot for you doesn't change that.' he turns you gently to face him, one hand cupping your cheek as his thumb strokes your jawline with tender care. the moment stretches, intimate and charged, the only sounds the distant hum of the city below and max's soft snores from the living room. his eyes lock on yours, dark and intent, but softened by the affection that always underlies his intensity.
you loop your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the short hairs at his nape, pulling him down for a soft kiss. it's unhurried, his mouth warm and firm against yours, lips moving in a slow dance that deepens gradually. his free hand slides to the small of your back, drawing you closer, bodies aligning in that perfect fit. he kisses you like he's savoring every second, tongue slipping in to taste you with gentle exploration, a low hum of approval vibrating from his chest. when he pulls back slightly, it's only to pepper lighter kisses along your upper lip, your cheek, the corner of your mouth—soft, reassuring touches that make your heart flutter.
'you're too pretty for your own good,' he whispers against your skin, voice rough but laced with warmth, his fingers trailing down your arm in lazy patterns. 'makin' eyes at you like that... guy's gotta be reminded.' you giggle softly, the sound muffled as he captures your lips again, this kiss lingering longer, his hand tangling lightly in your hair to tilt your head just so. the world narrows to the two of you, the apartment's quiet luxury fading into the background, max's occasional huff the only interruption.
he breaks the kiss reluctantly, forehead resting against yours, breaths mingling in the space between. 'c'mon, let's get settled. dog's probably starvin',' he says, but his hands don't leave you, one staying at your waist as he guides you toward the fridge. together, you rummage through—pulling out dog food for max, who perks up at the sound of the bowl clinking, and grabbing a couple of beers for yourselves. jack pours the kibble, watching with a fond smile as the dog devours it, tail thumping against the floor.
you perch on a barstool at the island, sipping your drink, legs crossing to let your skirt ride up just a bit. jack joins you, his thigh brushing yours as he leans in close, arm draped casually over the back of your stool. conversation flows easy—talking about frank's divorce, how the dog's eyes light up like he's never eaten before, the view from the balcony that you both step out onto for a moment, the evening breeze cool against your skin. he stands behind you there, arms wrapping around your middle, chin on your shoulder as you point out the skyline. soft kisses dot your neck, not heated yet, just affectionate nips that make you shiver.
back inside, as max settles into his bed with a contented sigh, jack tugs you toward the living room couch, pulling you down beside him. his arm curls around your shoulders, fingers stroking your arm in slow, absentminded caresses. 'this roleplay thing... you as my wife, dog-sittin' in some fancy pad,' he muses, voice low, a smirk playing on his lips. 'kinda suits you.'
you nestle closer, head on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. 'yeah? think we'd make good pet owners?'
he chuckles, the sound rumbling through him, and tilts your chin up for another kiss—deeper this time, but still measured, his tongue coaxing yours with patient insistence. his hand cups the back of your neck, thumb brushing your pulse point, feeling it quicken under his touch. 'the best. you'd be the soft one, spoilin' him rotten. me? i'd be the one keepin' things in line.' the words carry that underlying edge, soft and teasing, as his lips trail to your jaw, kissing softly there too.
the tension builds subtly, like a slow simmer—the way his touches linger, the heat in his gaze when he pulls back to look at you, the possessive glint sparked by frank's earlier expression. he wants to draw this out, make every moment count in this space that's not quite theirs, the cameras a distant thought for now. 'god, you're beautiful,' he murmurs, fingers tracing your collarbone with feather-light strokes, eyes drinking you in. you feel cherished, desired, the air thickening with anticipation as his mouth finds yours again, kisses turning a shade more insistent, hands roaming with gentle exploration over your sides and hips.
his thighs spread wide, and tugs you onto his lap, your skirt riding up as you straddle one thick leg. 'c'mere, pretty girl,' he praises, voice rough with want. 'ride my thigh like a good wife. show me how bad you need it.' you obey, grinding down instinctively, the friction of denim against your damp panties sending sparks up your spine. your hands brace on his shoulders, hips rolling in needy circles as he grips your hips, guiding the pace.
'fuck, that's it,' jack groans, watching your face flush, your full lips parting on little gasps. the dry humping builds fast—your clit throbbing against the rough seam of his jeans, wetness soaking through. he leans in, nipping at your neck, sucking marks that bloom like promises. 'my perfect little bimbo, soakin' me already. you love bein' my wife, don't ya? all soft and desperate.' praise drips from his words, mixed with that dirty edge that makes your core clench.
your movements stutter, pleasure coiling tight, but jack's not done teasing. he shifts, one hand slipping under your skirt to shove your panties aside, fingers delving into your slick folds. 'goddamn, you're drippin',' he mutters, two thick digits pushing inside your pussy, curling to hit that spot that makes your vision blur. you cry out, grinding harder on his thigh while he pumps his fingers, thumb circling your clit. the wet squelch of your arousal fills the air, obscene and intoxicating.
'jack—oh god, please,' you beg, voice high and breathy, nails digging into his shirt. he chuckles darkly, free hand wrapping around your throat—not tight, just possessive as he chokes you lightly, controlling your air just enough to heighten everything. 'easy, baby. let your husband take care of this greedy cunt.'
the orgasm hits you like a wave, pussy fluttering around his fingers as you soak his hand and thigh, body shaking in his hold. he doesn't stop, drawing it out until you're a trembling mess, then eases you down with kisses to your jaw. 'good girl. now, on your knees—taste how sweet you are on me.' you slide off, knees hitting the rug, and he pulls his fingers free, offering them to your mouth. you suck eagerly, tongue swirling around the digits, eyes locked on his as he groans.
jack stands, unzipping his jeans to free his thick cock, hard and leaking pre-cum. 'suck it, sweetheart. show me you're mine.' you lean in, lips wrapping around the head, tongue lapping at the slit before taking him deeper. he threads fingers in your hair, guiding your bobs, hips thrusting shallowly. 'fuck, that mouth—better than any fantasy. my pretty wife, chokin' on her man's cock like it's her job.' you hollow your cheeks, slurping messily, saliva dripping down your chin as you work him, the praise making you hum around his length.
he pulls you off with a wet pop, eyes wild. 'enough. need to be inside you.' jack hauls you up, flipping you onto the couch on your back, spreading your legs wide. he kneels between them, yanking your panties down and burying his face in your cunt. his tongue laps broad strokes over your folds, sucking your clit before delving inside, fucking you with it while his nose grinds against your cunt. you arch, hands fisting the cushions, moans spilling free. 'jack! yes—your tongue feels so good—'
he eats you out relentlessly, fingers joining to stretch you, until you're writhing, another climax building. 'cum on my face, baby. flood your husband's mouth.' you do, shattering with a keen, thighs clamping around his head as he drinks you down, stubble scraping your sensitive skin.
satisfied, jack rises, cock in hand, and notches himself at your entrance. 'gonna fill this tight pussy. you want that? want me breedin' my bimbo wife?' the light roleplay amps the heat, and you nod frantically, 'yes, jack—please, make me yours.' he thrusts in slow at first, the size difference stretching you deliciously, a bulge forming low in your belly from his girth. you gasp at the fullness, walls clenching as he bottoms out.
he starts a steady rhythm, hands pinning your thighs, dirty talk flowing. 'look at you, takin' every inch. so soft, so perfect—my little wife in that cute skirt.' praise blends with filth, his pace quickening, couch creaking under the force. you wrap legs around his waist, urging him deeper, the wet slap of skin echoing. but then—movement catches your eye. across the room, a small red light blinks on the security camera, angled right at the couch. frank's watching? or recording? the accidental exhibitionism hits like a thrill, making your pussy spasm around him.
'jack—camera,' you whimper, half-horrified, half-turned on.
he glances, smirks wickedly, not slowing. 'let him see how a real man fucks his woman. you're mine, baby—don't care who's watchin'.' the risk pushes you both over, jack's hand flexing his bicep around your throat again as he chokes you lightly, pounding harder. 'cum with me—milk my cock.'
you shatter first, pussy gushing around him, and he follows, groaning as he spills deep, hot ropes painting your walls. he grinds through it, prolonging the bliss, until you're both spent, breaths ragged.
jack pulls out gently, cum leaking from you, and gathers you close, arms wrapping around your waist as you curl into his chest on the couch. soft kisses pepper your forehead, cheeks, lips—tender now, the roughness faded. 'you okay, sweetheart?' he whispers, fingers stroking your hair. you nod, arms around his neck, nuzzling his throat.
'mm, more than. love you, hubby.'
he chuckles, kissing your temple. 'love you too, pretty girl. frank's dog is spoiled—got the best sitters.' the pup stirs, whining softly, and jack grins. 'think he wants in on the cuddles? or is he jealous of the show we just gave the camera?' you laugh, swatting his chest lightly, the humor lightening the afterglow as you settle in, tangled and sated.
the fruit basket you'd have to give frank was going to be expensive and mortifying.
NOTES : leon is an old man whose had a long day and just wants to come home to his pretty girl.
WARNINGS : bimbo! reader, finger sucking, praise, counter head, leon on his knees, female oral, fingering, couch sex, hair pulling, riding, creampie.
CONFIDENTIAL MATERIAL ── 18+ ONLY.
you perch on the edge of the kitchen counter, legs dangling like a doll's, your pretty bimbo curves spilling out of that tiny sundress leon picked just for you—pink and frilly, hugging your tits and flaring over your ass. your glossy lips part in a soft pout, big doe eyes blinking up at him as he looms close, his beefy frame making you feel small and delicate against him. 'leon, you look so strong today,' you coo, voice all bubbly and sweet, fingers twirling a strand of your hair while your free hand traces the bulge of his arm, admiring like it's a toy. which it very much was for your pretty cunt.
he smirks down at you, blue eyes darkening with that hungry edge, his large palm cupping your chin to tilt your face up. 'yeah? you like your big man, huh, pretty thing?' his thumb brushes your glossy, plump lower lip, and you nod eagerly, sucking it into your mouth with a little hum, tongue swirling innocently around the calloused pad. the joint in his thumb creaks faintly as he presses deeper, but he ignores it, watching your cheeks hollow as you bob on his thumb like it's the most natural thing.
'good girl, always so eager to please,' he rumbles, pulling his thumb free with a wet pop before scooping you up like you weigh nothing, settling your ass on the counter. your dress rides up easy, exposing pink, lacy panties already damp at the crotch, and you giggle, kicking your feet playfully. 'leon! it's all your fault, making me all wet.' he chuckles low, hooking fingers into the fabric and tugging it aside, your smooth, bare cunt glistening under the light.
dropping to his knees with a muffled groan—those damn joints protesting again—he spreads your thighs wide, your painted toes curling in the air. 'let's see how pretty this bimbo pussy tastes,' he mutters, diving in without warning. his tongue laps flat and firm along your slit, the broad drag pulling a squeal from you as you grip the his hair, grinding him into your cunt, nails digging in to his scalp. wet slurps filling the kitchen as he sucks your juices into his mouth, tongue spearing inside to fuck your hole shallowly while his nose bumps your clit.
'oh gosh, leon! that feels so gooood,' you whine, head lolling back, your brain and soft and fuzzy with pleasure, hips wiggling like you can't help it. he adds a thick finger, then two, stretching your tight walls with squelching pumps that echo lewdly, his free hand kneading your soft thigh to keep you open. the ache in his knees builds, making him grunt against your skin, but he powers through, flicking your swollen nub until stars burst behind your eyelids. you cum with a high-pitched cry, gushing over his chin in messy spurts, thighs quivering around his ears as he drinks you down, lapping every drop like it's candy.
he stands slow, rubbing his knee with a wince, cock straining his pants like a beast ready to break free. 'fuck, baby, you're soaked for me.' unzipping, his girthy length springs out, veins throbbing, and you lick your lips, eyes wide with awe.
'it's so big... can i have it, please?' you beg, voice all breathy and needy, and he nods, gripping your hips to pull you forwards.
he rubs his cock between your cunt's lips, watching as they swallowed his cock, before he slips inside your blinking hole, soft and slow for his darling, before he gives up and thrusts in deep, the counter shaking as your cunt swallows him whole, walls fluttering around the invasion. 'shit, this bimbo hole grips like a vice,' he growls, pounding hard with wet smacks, your tits bouncing in the dress as you cling to his shoulders, moaning nonsense. but soon his pace stutters, shoulders hunching with pain. 'damn joints... alright, pretty girl, time for you to work.'
he pulls out, slick and shiny, guiding you off the counter on wobbly legs, your sway exaggerated as you follow him to the living room. bending you over the couch back, the leather presses cool against your belly, ass hiked high. 'spread for me,' he commands, and you do, cheeks parting to show your dripping slit. he rubs his cockhead along it, teasing until you whimper, then slams home, the angle spearing you deep with a juicy schlick.
'yes, leon! f- fuck! you feel so g- good,' you gasp, pushing back like an eager slut, the couch creaking under the force of his shorter, sharper thrusts. his hand tangles in your hair, pulling just enough to arch you, fingers circling your clit to make you soak his balls. grunts mix with your bubbly cries, but the strain hits him again, hips faltering.
'fuck... over here.' he sinks onto the couch, legs splayed, patting his thick thigh. 'c'mon, ride daddy's cock like the good little bimbo you are.' you climb on quick, dress hiked up, straddling his lap as you line him up and drop down, the stretch making you mewl. hands on his broad chest, you start bouncing, the wet glide of your cunt echoing with each rise and fall.
leon groans, hands loose on your waist to avoid the ache, eyes glued to where you connect. 'that's it, bounce on that fat cock... show me how much you love it.' you grind deep, circling your hips with a ditzy smile, chasing the sparks as his tip nudges your depths. leaning in, you pepper his neck with sloppy, glossy kisses, whispering, 'you're the best, leon... making me all stuffed and full.'
his hips twitch up sporadically, but you take over, riding faster until the coil snaps, your orgasm ripping through with a squeaky scream, pussy clenching to milk him. 'cum inside, please! fill me up!' one thing he loves is making his pretty girl happy, and so he does. groaning as ropes of hot cum paint your walls, leaking out in creamy dribbles with every continued bounce. you slump against him, giggling softly in the haze, his arms holding you close despite the twinge in his joints.
'mhm, you're my perfect pretty bimbo,' he murmurs, kissing your forehead, the room smelling of sex and satisfaction.
hughie and butcher stumble out the motel door, their voices fading down the hallway. the door slams shut, leaving just you and ben in the dim room thick with cigarette smoke and tension. they have no clue you're his girlfriend, his pretty little secret he's kept hidden while you play your part in the boys squad.
ben turns to you, eyes gleaming with hunger. he smirks, stepping close. "door's shut. time to show me what you're really here for. poor thing, holding it together all day with those idiots."
you smile, heat pooling between your legs. "ben, i've been waiting for you."
he grabs your hair, pulling you down to your knees on the rough carpet. his hands work his belt open, zipper rasping, and his thick cock springs free, heavy and veined, slapping against your face. you wrap your lips around the head, tongue swirling over the salty tip as you take him deeper, sucking with steady pulls that make him groan. your mouth stretches around his girth, throat relaxing as you bob, saliva coating his shaft in wet slurps and glucks. he thrusts shallowly at first, then harder, fucking your face while his fingers tighten in your hair. "that's it, take it like the good cocksucker you are. aww, sweetie, you're so desperate for my cock, aren't you? pathetic how much you need it."
precum floods your tongue, thick and bitter, as his balls tap your chin with rhythmic plaps. you hum around him, vibrations drawing deeper growls from his chest, spit dripping down your chin in messy strings. he uses your mouth relentlessly, hips snapping until he's close, then yanks free with a wet pop, cock throbbing inches from your swollen lips.
"on the bed. spread for me, pretty girl." his voice drips condescension, like he's indulging a fragile whim. you climb onto the mattress, shedding clothes and arching back, thighs parting to bare your slick cunt. he pushes your face into the pillow, hands spreading your cheeks wide before his tongue dives in, lapping flat and rough from clit to hole. sluuuurp. you moan loud, hips bucking into his mouth as he sucks your folds, tongue spearing deep into your soaking heat with wet schlicks. "fuck, this greedy cunt. always so wet for me. poor baby, pretending to be all business with the squad—bet it aches pretending you're not my whore."
fingers join his tongue, two plunging in and curling hard against your walls, stretching and stroking while he grinds his mouth over your clit. squelch, squelch—the sounds fill the room as your juices coat his chin, thighs trembling. he doesn't relent, humming against you until the coil snaps, your body shuddering through a gushing orgasm that soaks his face. "there you go, cum pretty for me. such a good girl, making a mess just like that."
panting, he rises, cock rigid and dripping, nudging your entrance. you nod eagerly. "fuck me, ben. please." he slams in with one brutal thrust, balls-deep, your cunt clenching around his thickness as you cry out.
he pounds without mercy, bedframe thudding against the wall, hips crashing with wet plaps and schlaps. his hands roam, pinching nipples roughly, slapping your ass to leave stinging heat. "take every inch, you squad slut. this is what you crave—my cock owning you. aww, honey, it's okay to be so weak for it."
you rock back into him, walls fluttering, then he flips you to straddle, guiding you down onto his shaft. you ride hard, grinding deep, clit rubbing his base as his hands grip your hips, slamming you faster. squish, squish—the pressure builds until you shatter again, squirting over his abs in hot pulses, milking him tight. "yes! ben!" he growls, thrusting up savagely. "cum on it, pretty whore. you're doing so well, falling apart like the needy mess you are."
he rolls you under him, rutting deep and frantic, balls tightening. "gonna fill you up." ropes of cum erupt inside, spurt after thick spurt flooding your cunt until it leaks around him with every grind. he kisses you rough, staying buried deep. "good girl. our secret stays safe—those boys'll never know how you beg for me."
you sigh content, cum trickling warm down your wet thighs. "love you, ben. more? please?"
ben lets out a loud laugh before giving one shallow thrust.
the grand halls of the danforth estate echoed with the distant clink of crystal glasses and murmured conversations from the family gathering below. titus danforth stood in the shadowed alcove of the upper library, his tailored suit hugging his broad frame, the weight of the family's dark legacy pressing on him like always. but tonight, his focus was solely on you—his pretty wife, the one bright spot in this twisted world of wealth and secrets. you teetered in on those ridiculous heels, your tight dress clinging to your curves, breasts straining against the fabric as you searched for him with wide, adoring eyes.
'there's my wife,' he murmured softly, voice warm like velvet as he stepped forward, cupping your cheek with a gentleness that belied the roughness he craved in private. 'you look stunning, darling. come here.' he pulled you close, his lips finding yours in a deep, sloppy kiss—tongues tangling messily, saliva mixing as he sucked on your lower lip, hands roaming down to squeeze your ass possessively. the kiss broke with a wet smack, and he smiled against your mouth, eyes full of that quiet love. 'i've been thinking about you all evening. this family bullshit... it doesn't matter. you're what keeps me going.'
you melted into him, giggling softly, your fingers tracing his chest. 'titus, i missed you too. all these fancy people... it's overwhelming.'
he chuckled low, nuzzling your neck, breath hot. 'that's why i take care of you, sweetheart. the estate, the jewels, every whim you have, it's all for you. for us. now, let's get away from them. i need my wife alone.' guiding you deeper into the library, he locked the heavy door behind you, the room's leather-bound books and flickering candlelight creating an intimate cocoon away from the chaos.
his hands were tender at first, sliding the straps of your dress down your shoulders, but as the fabric pooled at your feet, leaving you in lace panties and heels, his touch grew firmer, rougher. 'god, look at you,' he whispered, voice husky with desire. 'my perfect little bimbo. tits like these, ass made for my hands. strip the rest off. show your husband what he owns.' you obeyed, shimmying out of the panties, and he groaned, palming your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they hardened.
'kneel for me, baby,' he said softly, but there was an edge to it, a command wrapped in affection. you dropped down, fingers working his belt open, freeing his thick cock—hard and throbbing, tip already leaking. he threaded his fingers through your hair, guiding you gently.
'that's it, wife. wrap those pretty lips around me. suck me like you mean it.' you took him in, tongue swirling, bobbing deep as saliva dripped down your chin. he thrust shallowly, fucking your mouth with controlled roughness, but his free hand stroked your cheek. 'fuck, you're so good at this. my dumb little slut, but i love you for it. love how you take care of me after i handle all this family shit.'
he pulled you off with a pop, strings of spit connecting you, and hauled you up for another sloppy kiss, tasting himself on your tongue, messy and deep, his stubble scraping your skin. 'up on the desk,' he growled softly, lifting you effortlessly onto the polished wood, spreading your thighs wide. his fingers traced your slick folds, dipping into your cunt, making you whimper. 'so wet already. this cunt's mine, isn't it? dripping for the man who keeps you in luxury.' he pumped two fingers in and out, thumb teasing your clit, building that heat until you were arching, begging with soft pleas.
'please, titus... i need you inside me.'
he smirked, withdrawing his hand just as you teetered on the edge, denying you the release. 'not yet, wife. beg for it. tell me how bad you want my cock. how you'll do anything for it—give me babies, stay my spoiled bimbo forever.' his voice was rougher now, dirty words spilling out as he rubbed his cock along your entrance, teasing without entering. 'i build empires for this family, crush anyone who gets in the way, but for you? i'll burn it all down. just beg, baby. make me believe you deserve to cum.'
'titus, please! i want your cock so bad—fuck my cunt, fill me up. i'll give you sons, heirs for the estate. just let me cum for you!' your words tumbled out, desperate, hands clutching his shoulders.
'good girl,' he murmured lovingly, but he held back, circling your clit with his tip, pushing you closer to the brink before stopping again. 'not yet. feel how hard i am for you? this is what you do to me—make me want to breed you right here, pump you full while the family's downstairs clueless.' he kissed
you again, sloppy and hungry, tongue shoving deep into your mouth as he ground his cock against your thigh, smearing pre-cum on your skin. the kiss was all teeth and spit, his hand fisting your hair to tilt your head back, controlling the angle while he devoured you. 'that's my greedy wife,' he rasped against your lips, pulling back just enough to watch your flushed face. 'always so desperate for it. but you don't get to cum until i say. not after keeping me waiting all night with that teasing dress.'
he shoved you back onto the desk, the wood cool against your spine as he pinned your wrists above your head with one large hand. his other hand gripped his cock, slapping it against your clit—hard enough to make you jolt, a whine escaping your throat. 'feel that? that's what you do to me, you spoiled little thing. strutting around my family's estate like you own it, when really, you're just my fucktoy. my bimbo to breed whenever i want.' his words were sharper now, laced with that mean edge, but his eyes held the same soft love, like he cherished breaking you down.
'titus... please,' you begged, hips bucking up, trying to catch him, but he held you firm, denying the friction. 'i need it. your cock—fuck me, make me yours.'
he laughed low, dark, releasing your wrists to grab your thighs, spreading them wider until your muscles strained. 'oh, you'll get it, wife. but first, beg like the dumb slut you are. tell me how empty your cunt feels without me. how you'll take every inch, no matter how rough i am.' he teased your entrance again, the thick head nudging in just a fraction before pulling out, leaving you clenching around nothing. your body trembled, the denied orgasm coiling tighter, making every nerve scream.
'it's so empty, titus! my cunt aches for you—please, shove it in, stretch me out. i'll be your good girl, take it all, even if it hurts. just fuck me!' tears pricked your eyes, voice breaking on the pleas, hands reaching for him.
'that's better,' he growled, but he didn't give in yet. instead, he flipped you over roughly, your cheek pressing into the desk as he yanked your hips up, ass in the air. his palm cracked against your cheek—once, twice— the sting blooming hot, making you gasp. 'you think you deserve my cum that easy? after spending my money on those heels, looking like a whore for everyone downstairs?' he leaned over you, breath hot on your neck, free hand sliding between your legs to pinch your clit sharply. 'no, baby. you earn it. beg louder. scream for your husband's cock.'
'fuck, titus! please, breed me!' your whiny begs made him grin, 'i need you to fill me, own me—i'll carry your babies, anything!' your voice echoed off the bookshelves, desperate and raw, body shaking as he kept toying with you, fingers plunging deep then withdrawing, thumb pressing your clit without mercy, pushing you to the edge and yanking you back every time.
finally, with a satisfied grunt, he lined up and thrust in, hard, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal stroke. your walls stretched around his thickness, the burn mixing with pleasure as he bottomed out, balls slapping your skin. 'fuck yes, take it,' he snarled, hands bruising your hips as he started pounding, relentless and deep. each snap of his hips drove you into the desk, the wood scraping your breasts, nipples dragging painfully. 'this cunt's gripping me so tight—milking me already, you needy whore. but don't you dare cum. not until i feel you shatter around me when i allow it.'
he fucked you like he owned you—because he did—pace brutal, cock dragging over every sensitive spot inside. sweat slicked your bodies, the wet sounds of skin meeting skin filling the library, drowned out only by your muffled cries. his hand snaked around, fingers finding your clit again, rubbing circles that built the fire impossibly higher. 'beg for it now, wife. beg to cum on the cock that's gonna knock you up. tell me you'll swell with my kid, stay my pretty little vessel.'
'i—please, titus! let me cum—i'll get pregnant for you, carry your heir right here and keep you head of the family. just say yes!' you sobbed, teetering, every thrust pushing you closer.
'cum for me, baby,' he whispered then, voice softening just a touch amid the roughness, leaning down to capture your mouth in another messy kiss over your shoulder—tongues sloppy, him swallowing your moans. the permission hit like a spark, and you shattered, cunt spasming around him, waves crashing as you milked him desperately.
he followed with a guttural groan, slamming deep one last time, flooding your womb with hot spurts of cum. 'that's it—take my seed, wife. every drop for you.' he stayed buried, grinding slow as he rode out the aftershocks, then pulled you up gently into his arms, kissing your forehead softly. 'i love you, you know that? my perfect girl. we'll make this family ours—one way or another.'
NOTES : your boyfriend works in the er so, you hobble into the er with a scratched knee and he decides to make it all better!
WARNINGS : established relationship, bimbo! reader, age gap, daddy kink, soft robby, glove kink, fingers in mouth, good girl used, tights cut, light slapping, fingering, size kink, praise, public-ish sex, sex in a hospital, light degrading, breeding kink, frank and jack listen. unprotected sex.
CONFIDENTIAL MATERIAL ── 18+ ONLY.
the er buzzes with its usual chaos—monitors beeping steadily, staff hurrying down the halls, the sharp tang of disinfectant hanging in the air like a constant reminder of the urgency here. you cradle your scraped knee carefully, the minor graze from tripping on the uneven pavement outside sending a soft sting through your leg with every step. a quiet wince slips from your lips as you make your way to the triage desk, your cute little vest hugging your curves just right, the pink skirt swaying gently above your legs sheathed in sheer tights, and your shoes clicking softly against the tiled floor. at twenty-five, you look every bit the picture of soft, innocent beauty—those wide eyes full of vulnerability, plump lips parted in a small pout, but the ache pulls another tiny whimper from you, drawing a few glances from the waiting patients.
michael spots you immediately from his position at the nurses' station, his broad, imposing frame taking up space like he owns the room. your man was all solid muscle and quiet authority, his scrubs stretched tight over his chest and thick arms, a few strands of salt-and-pepper hair falling messily over his forehead from the long shift. his eyes light up with that familiar protective warmth the moment he sees you, but there's an undercurrent of eager hunger too—the pervy thrill that always stirs in him when his young girlfriend shows up looking so sweetly in need of him. he straightens up, waving you through the door with a gentle but firm gesture, completely bypassing the line of waiting folks who mutter a few complaints.
'hey, my love,' he murmurs, his voice deep and soothing as he pulls you to the side, his hand already settling warmly on your arm. 'what happened to my beautiful girl? don't worry, i'll take care of everything personally.'
langdon and abbot, stationed nearby, exchange knowing glances, their eyes tracing over you with open appreciation. langdon arches a brow, taking in your fresh-faced charm and the way your skirt flutters against your thighs, highlighting every soft curve. he leans toward jack, keeping his voice low but not low enough that you can't catch the edge of it.
'robbie's got himself a real gem there—half his age and dressed like a dream. lucky bastard,' langdon says, a smirk tugging at his lips as jack nods, his grin widening.
michael shoots them a look that's equal parts warning and pride, his arm sliding possessively around your waist as he guides you away from the desk and toward a private exam room. the door closes behind you with a soft, definitive click, the lock turning under his fingers to seal out the world. the room is dimly lit, just the overhead exam light casting a warm glow over the padded table, a half-drawn curtain offering a illusion of privacy. he turns to you then, his expression a blend of tender concern and that simmering desire, his big hands already reaching for a pair of blue surgical gloves from the dispenser.
'hop up here, darling,' he says, his tone gentle but laced with that authoritative edge, treating you like his most precious, fragile possession. 'let me see that knee of yours.'
you climb onto the table, your legs dangling lightly as you settle, the paper crinkling under you. he snaps the gloves on, the sound sharp in the quiet space, and steps between your thighs, his presence making the room feel smaller, more intimate. carefully, he lifts the hem of your pink skirt, bunching it up to expose the tights and the faint red scrape on your knee. but his touch doesn't stay focused there—his gloved fingers trail upward instead, gliding along the smooth inner curve of your thigh, kneading the soft flesh through the thin fabric with a firmness that sends a shiver racing up your spine.
'm-michael, it stings a little,' you whisper, your cheeks flushing hot as his thumb brushes higher, teasing the sensitive skin near your hip bone, so close to where heat is already pooling.
'i know, my sweet girl,' he replies, his voice a low rumble of reassurance, eyes darkening with adoration at how easily you respond to him. 'you're so brave for coming in like this, even for something so small. my perfect little darling, always knowing just when to come to me so i can make it all better.'
his words wrap around you like a warm embrace, full of praise that makes you feel cherished, but there's that subtle condescending lilt too, reminding you of how young you are, how much you need his steady guidance. his free hand cups your face then, tilting it up so his thumb can trace the swell of your lower lip before he presses two gloved fingers past it, the latex cool and slightly sterile against your tongue.
'suck gently now, love,' he instructs softly, watching with rapt attention as you obey, your lips closing around the digits, tongue swirling obediently. 'that's it, relax for me while i take care of you. such a good girl, so eager to please.'
you hum around his fingers, the faint chemical taste mixing with your saliva as you lap at them, your body warming under his gaze. outside the door, muffled voices filter through—frank and jack lingering nearby, their curiosity evident in the low murmur of conversation, perhaps wondering what exactly is going on in here. the subtle thrill of being so close to discovery makes your pulse quicken, a soft tingle spreading through your core.
michael's caresses grow more insistent; he carefully snips a small tear in your tights with a pair of scissors from the tray, exposing the bare skin of your thigh, and his gloved palm strokes over it, warm despite the barrier. he delivers a light, playful pat there, the sound echoing softly in the room, just enough sting to make you gasp around his fingers.
'these legs of yours are so soft and pretty, especially next to a man like me,' he murmurs, his eyes tracing the length of you with hungry appreciation. 'half my age, but you occupy every corner of my mind, don't you? my lovely young treasure, all dolled up in that cute skirt just to tempt me.'
he parts your thighs wider, his gloved hand venturing higher to cup your cunt through the thin fabric of your panties, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that coax a breathy moan from deep in your throat. the pressure builds, your hips shifting instinctively toward his touch.
'ahh—m- michael, that f-feels...' you trail off, the words dissolving into a whimper as he hooks his fingers into your panties and shifts them aside, exposing your slick cunt to the cool air.
'feels good, doesn't it, pretty baby?' he says, his voice thick with affection and that pervy edge. 'you deserve to feel this amazing—my special girl, so responsive and sweet for me.'
without another word, he slides two thick, gloved fingers into your warmth, the intrusion slick and smooth as your walls clench around them. the cool latex contrasts sharply with your heat, sending sparks of pleasure radiating outward as he curls them just right, brushing that sensitive spot inside you with expert precision. wet sounds fill the room—soft squelches with each pump of his hand, your arousal coating the glove as he works you steadily.
'god, you're so tight and welcoming, like you were made just for me,' he praises, his thumb circling your clit in tandem, drawing out more of your needy sounds. 'those guys out there? they couldn't dream of how perfect you are—how you let daddy fill you up so nicely, taking everything i give.'
you arch into his touch, your body trembling as the pleasure coils tighter, soft cries muffled around the fingers still in your mouth. 'mmm—i-it's s-so full, robbie! p-please...'
he steadies your hip with his other arm, his massive frame looming over you, making you feel so small and delicate in comparison—the size difference intoxicating, his strength a constant reminder of the power he holds over you. 'shh, i've got you, my little angel. you're doing so well, letting me play with this sweet cunt of yours. half my age and already so addicted to my touch.. such a needy, perfect thing.'
the praise mixes with that teasing degradation, highlighting your youth and dependence in a way that only heightens the heat between you. he adds a third finger, stretching you further, the squelching growing louder, more obscene, as he pumps them in and out, his glove shiny with your wetness. your breaths come in pants now, body writhing on the table, vest riding up to expose more of your skin.
rising slowly, he peels off his scrub top with his free hand, revealing the broad expanse of his toned chest, dusted with hair and marked by the faint scars of a life well-lived. his muscles flex as he works, eyes never leaving yours. then, with deliberate slowness, he frees his cock from his pants—long and thick, veins prominent along the shaft, the head already glistening with pre-cum. it's imposing, far more than your small hands could wrap around fully, a testament to the age gap that pulses between you: him, experienced and commanding; you, his youthful, devoted delight.
'lie back for me, legs spread wide,' he commands softly, his voice laced with hunger. 'i'm going to fill you up so deep, show you exactly how much i adore every part of you, my sweet girl.'
you comply eagerly, reclining on the table with your vest slightly askew, skirt hiked up around your waist, tights torn just enough to allow access, shoes still perched on your feet. he gives his cock a few firm strokes with his latex-covered hand, the sight making your mouth water even as his fingers slip from your lips, trailing saliva down your chin. he positions himself at your entrance, the blunt tip nudging your folds, teasing with shallow dips before pressing in.
he enters you inch by inch, thoughtful and controlled; the stretch delicious and overwhelming, your walls fluttering around his girth as he claims you. 'o-oh, robbie—y-you're s-so big, it f-feels s-so good!' you gasp, your hands clutching at the table's edges, nails digging in as he sinks deeper.
'that's my brave girl, taking my cock so beautifully,' he groans, fully seated now, a subtle bulge forming in your lower belly from his depth. his gloved hand presses there gently, feeling himself through your skin. 'look at that, darling—your little body molding to me perfectly. you handle daddy's cock like a dream, don't you? so tight and greedy for it.'
he starts to move then, rhythmic thrusts that build a steady pace, each slide in and out accompanied by wet, slick sounds—the squelch of your arousal mixing with the faint creak of the table. his hands roam your body, massaging your breasts through the vest, thumbs rolling your nipples until they're hard peaks, eliciting soft mewls from you. then lower, caressing your thigh with another light smack, the sting blooming into warmth.
'let me hear those pretty noises, love,' he urges, his hips snapping forward a bit harder. 'show daddy how good his cock makes you feel—moan for me, my perfect little slut.'
the words blend sweet praise with that edge of degradation, making your cheeks burn even as pleasure surges. 'r-robbie—m-more, please, i n-need it!' you beg, your voice stuttering with each thrust, body bouncing lightly under him.
he chuckles, low and warm, maintaining that measured rhythm, his palm still tracing the bulge in your abdomen. 'more? my greedy little angel, always wanting daddy to stuff this cunt full. i'm going to breed you deep, make you feel so loved and claimed. bouncing on my cock like you were born for it.'
the pleasure builds languidly at first, his earlier fingering having sensitized every nerve, but now it mounts toward something intense and shattering. he leans down, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, his tongue mimicking the thrusts below as his gloved hand slips back to your mouth, two fingers pressing in to muffle your growing cries. the room fills with the sounds of your joining—the wet slap of skin, your muffled whimpers, the distant hum of the er beyond the door.
another knock echoes—frank's voice filtering through. 'everything alright in there, robbie? need any help?'
jack's chuckle follows, low and teasing. 'sounds like you're handling it just fine.'
michael's eyes spark with mischief, shared with you in a heated glance, and he rolls his hips deeper, turning what would be your response into a stifled moan around his fingers. 'all good here,' he calls back, voice steady even as he drives into you with renewed fervor, the table rocking subtly. 'just giving her the best care possible.'
the risk of it all—the voices so close, the locked door the only barrier—sends a rush through you, your walls tightening around him in response. you're teetering on the edge now, every thrust pushing you closer, but he senses it and eases his pace artfully, drawing it out with long, teasing strokes that brush every sensitive spot.
'hold on just a little longer, darling,' he whispers against your ear, nipping the lobe. 'savor how perfectly my cock fits in your sweet cunt—feel it stretching you, owning you. you're such a good girl, so young and pliant for daddy.'
when your release finally crashes over you, it's explosive—waves of bliss rippling through your body, making you quake and clench around him, your cries garbled around his fingers. 'y-yes, robbie—so- so- oh my god!'
he maintains that deep, steady rhythm through your orgasm, letting you ride every pulse until you're boneless beneath him. only then does he chase his own peak, thrusts growing erratic, his free hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks. with a deep groan, he buries himself to the hilt and spills inside you, hot pulses filling your depths as he grinds against you.
'that's it, my love—take all of daddy's cum, let it breed you full,' he rasps, his body shuddering with the intensity. 'so beautiful like this, my perfect little cumslut, keeping every drop inside.'
he stays connected for long moments, his hands now stroking your sides in soothing circles as he softens, the warmth of him trickling slowly between your joined bodies. finally, he withdraws with care, grabbing a fresh cloth from the sink to clean you up—his touch turning purely tender, wiping away the evidence with gentle swipes, mindful of your sensitivity.
'feeling better now, my sweet?' he asks, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before helping you sit up, his arms strong around you.
you nod, flushed and glowing, legs still shaky as he smooths your skirt back down, adjusting your tights as best he can around the tear. 'y-yes, robbie... so much better. thank you.'
he smiles, that satisfied, possessive gleam in his eyes, and helps you down from the table. as you step out into the hallway together, your hand in his, frank and jack's gazes land on you both—curious, approving, with a hint of envy. michael's arm wraps firmly around your waist, pulling you close as he nods to them.
'see? all taken care of,' he says, his voice carrying that proud undertone, guiding you toward the exit with a loving, unyielding hold. 'my girl's good as new.'
the walk out of the er feels charged, your body still humming from his touch, the subtle ache in your knee forgotten amid the deeper, satisfied warmth he left behind. frank and jack watch you go, their murmurs fading as michael leads you into the evening air, already whispering promises of more care when you're home.
NOTES : bucky looks hot as fuck when he straddles his motorbike, so you ask him nicely to stay home!
WARNINGS : degrading, praise, hole, slut, whore, toy, animal, fucktoy, semi-public, exhibitionism, head on a motorbike, oral, spanking, humiliation, fingering, ruined orgasm, begging, thigh riding, overstimulation, dirty talk, breeding kink.
CONFIDENTIAL MATERIAL ── 18+ ONLY.
you lean against the doorframe of your shared apartment, watching bucky swing his leg over the sleek black motorcycle parked in the driveway. the early morning sun glints off the chrome, but your eyes are fixed on him—his broad shoulders straining the leather jacket, the way his jeans hug his thick thighs. he looks every bit the rugged soldier turned civilian, and heat pools low in your belly.
'god, bucky, you look so hot like that,' you say, voice breathy as you saunter over, heels clicking the floor, skirt swaying on your hips, your fingers wrapping around one of his biceps, squeezing the hard muscle beneath. 'can't you just stay home? just for me? please?' you bat your lashes, pressing closer, the scent of your vanilla perfume mingling with his cologne.
he glances down at you, those piercing blue eyes softening just a fraction, his flesh hand lifting to cup your cheek gently. 'doll, i wish i could. but i've got shit to handle—can't skip out.' his thumb strokes your skin in a soft, reassuring circle, voice low and tender, making your chest ache with how much you crave him. you groan dramatically, pouting as you rise on your toes to kiss his jaw, then trail your glossy pink lips down his neck, leaving shiny streaks on his skin.
'please, bucky... i need you here with me.' your hands slide to his chest, fiddling with his jacket zipper, nuzzling into the crook of his neck where his scent—leather and clean sweat—makes you dizzy.
he chuckles low, the sound vibrating through him, but his hand shifts to grip your hip firmly. 'you're relentless, aren't you? always so needy for me.' the softness fades, replaced by that mean glint in his eyes as he kills the engine, the sudden quiet amplifying the distant chatter from the neighbors' yard next door—voices laughing, a dog barking, the mundane sounds of suburbia that make your pulse quicken with forbidden thrill. 'alright, but we're doing this my way. and you better keep quiet, or the whole block'll hear what a slut you are.'
exhibitionism sparks in your veins as he guides you around the bike, positioning you to bend forward, elbows propped on the leather seat. your short skirt rides up easily under his insistent hands, exposing the curve of your ass and the damp spot on your thong. the fence offers some cover from the street, but those neighborly noises—someone calling out a greeting, the clink of tools—remind you how close they are, how easily this could be discovered. bucky's vibranium hand lands on your cheek with a sharp spank, the metallic coolness stinging as it jiggles your flesh. 'look at this ass, begging for it already. spread your legs, pretty girl—let me see how wet you get for me in broad daylight.'
you whimper, parting your thighs as he hooks your thong aside, cool air kissing your slick folds. he drops to his knees behind you, strong hands prying you open, and then his hot breath ghosts over your entrance. 'such a filthy little thing, dripping like this just from watching me.' his metal fingers pry your cheeks apart roughly, and his hot breath fans over your clit.
'pathetic. soaking through your panties just from me looking ready to leave. you're nothing but a needy hole, aren't you?' his tongue lashes out slow this time, a deliberate drag from your throbbing clit to your entrance, the wet glide pulling a stuttered gasp from you.
'ahh—b-bucky!' the obscene slurp of his mouth mixes with the distant radio static next door, your body trembling as he circles your clit with lazy flicks, sucking it between his lips before releasing with a pop.
'taste like my personal fucktoy, all sweet and ruined. bet you love knowing they could hear you moan, huh?' he spits on your folds, the warm glob trickling down before his flesh fingers push in—one, then two—stretching you with unhurried pumps that make lewd squelches fill the air. you bite back a cry, hips twitching, but another sharp spank lands, harder this time, your ass cheek reddening under his assault.
'Nuh-uh, don't you fucking squirm. take my tongue like the brainless slut you are—let me drag this out until you're a babbling mess.' he laps at you methodically, tongue thrusting into your hole alongside his fingers, curling to grind that spot inside while his free hand spanks rhythmically, each smack echoing softly.
pleasure builds agonizingly slow, your elbows slipping on the seat as you whine, 'p-please... f-faster, bucky, it f-feels so—ahh!' but he growls against your skin, metal arm pinning your hips still.
'shut up and suffer, doll. i'm gonna eat this cunt until you're right on the edge, then leave you hanging like the tease you are.' minutes stretch, his mouth relentless—sucking, licking, fingers scissoring with wet drags—until your thighs quake, orgasm coiling tight. you sob out,
'i-i'm c-cumming—bucky!' just as you peak, he yanks his fingers free and pulls back, denying the full rush, leaving you shuddering, empty, and ruined.
'there, good girl—all pretty for me, that wasnt enough for you baby? not satisfied? look at you, shaking like a leaf in the driveway.'
panting, slick dripping down your thighs, you twist to look at him, lips parted in a stuttered plea: 'b-bucky, more... p-please, i n-need—' he stands, smirking cruelly, wiping his glistening chin.
'oh, you'll get more, but on my terms.' he swings onto the bike, legs spread wide on the seat, and pats his thick thigh. the neighbors' chatter swells—a burst of laughter—and the exposure makes your ruined pussy throb anew. 'ride it, sweetheart. show me how desperate you are while they chat next door.' the neighbors' voices carry clearer now—a woman's laugh, a man's response—and the exposure makes your core throb. you straddle his thigh, skirt bunched at your waist, grinding down slow as instructed. the denim rasps against your bare pussy, friction building with each roll of your hips, his hands guiding you with firm grips.
'ride it like the desperate animal you are. hump my leg while they yap away—bet they'd love seeing my pretty whore chase her next fix.' his hands grip your hips bruisingly, forcing a languid pace, each roll dragging out the friction until you're mewling.
overstimulation from your denied peak makes every slide burn sweetly, your mind fogging as you stutter moans, 'y-yes, s-sir... f-fuck, it h-hurts so good!'
he watches with mean delight, vibranium fingers tweaking your nipples through your top, spanking intermittently to punctuate his taunts. 'that's it, go dumb on my thigh. can't even form words, can you? just my stupid, thigh-fucking toy.'
when you're a whimpering mess, slick coating his jeans, he hauls you up. 'enough. on your knees now—give me that pretty mouth.' you drop to the gravel, ignoring the bite, and lean in, glossy lips wrapping around his cockhead. he threads fingers in your hair, guiding you slow at first, letting you swirl your tongue along the underside, saliva pooling as you take him deeper. 'suck it messy, doll. drool all over my cock like you can't get enough.' you do, bobbing with wet slurps, gagging softly as he hits your throat, tears pricking your eyes. his hips buck lazily, fucking your face with controlled thrusts, dirty talk spilling: 'look at you, choking in public. such a good, stupid girl for me.' but as his breathing hitches, he pulls out, stroking himself to the brink before stopping—ruining his own edge, cock twitching denied, leaving you both aching.
'fuck that. Need to breed this pussy now.' he yanks you up, positioning you to straddle the bike facing him, your back to the handlebars for leverage, and teases your entrance with his tip, rubbing through your slick. the neighbors' sounds fade into background thrill as he sinks in inch by inch, stretching you with deliberate slowness. 'feel that? gonna fill you up, make you swell with my cum. you're just a hole for breeding, aren't you? my dumb, perfect breeder.' you nod, sinking down fully, and he starts a languid rhythm, hands spanking your ass with each upward thrust, the slaps sharp against the wet sounds of your joining.
he starts a deliberate rhythm, deep grinds that bottom out with squelching slaps, his flesh hand spanking your ass with every upward thrust, the cracks sharp and rhythmic. metal arm holding you close, 'take it slow, feel me own this cunt. overstimulated already? good—go dumb for me, forget everything but my cock.' pleasure layers thick, your second orgasm approaching in waves, but he edges you, pausing thrusts listen to the neighbors' voices weave through—a phone ringing, casual talk—fueling the thrill as he leans in, metal arm banding your waist. 'hear that? they're right there, oblivious to you getting ruined on my bike. whine louder, let 'em know what a cock-drunk bitch you are.' pleasure layers thick and slow, his fingers circling your overstimulated clit, building you toward another edge. you babble, 'b-bucky, i-i'm gonna—ahh, f-fuck, don't s-stop!' but he pauses mid-thrust, spanking hard to derail you:
'Not yet, greedy. suffer for me—feel how i own every inch.'
he drags it out, alternating slow fucks with spanks and filthy whispers: 'gonna pump you full, make this belly swell. you're nothing but my breeding slut, stuttering and shaking in the open.' when he finally lets you tip over, it's explosive—your pussy spasming around him as you cry out.
'm' c-cumming—oh god, bucky!'—but he grinds through it mercilessly, overstimulation ripping sobs from you, body convulsing. only then does he slam deep, roaring low as he unloads, hot ropes of cum flooding your core. 'take it all, my perfect girl—bred and broken.'
he holds you through the aftershocks, he eases you off gently after, zipping up with a soft kiss to your forehead—the mean edge melting back to tenderness. 'go inside, doll. i'll be home soon to take care of you proper.' the engine roars to life, drowning the neighbors' chatter as he peels away, leaving you flushed, aching, and utterly claimed.
