alternativegirl23

[alternativegirl23]

Loved this, so sweet and tender.

⊹. ˖𝒜𝓉 𝐿𝒶𝓈𝓉, 𝒜 𝒯𝓇𝑒𝓂𝒷𝓁𝑒⭑.ᐟ

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: Y/n and Mr. Mellors have been together for a while, they've kissed, yes, but they've never had sex―When a make out gets heated she confesses that she hasn't ever had an orgasm, even when she was with her ex-lovers. None of them put the time and effort to ACTUALLY help her have an orgasm, and she doesn't know how to finger herself. so therefore, she's never cum before.

ⓘ smuff, angst, fingering, praise, Soft!DOM!Oliver, SUB!Inexperienced!Reader, orgasm control, eye contact.

۶ৎ Pairing: Oliver Mellors / Fem!Reader Comments, Reposts, and likes are all welcome and encouraged!!

It was raining, again―gentle, steady like a hum just outside the cottage walls. The fire crackled in the furnace casting a low light in the small room.

He kissed her slowly, her back against the small bed, one knee bent. His left hand rested atop of her hip, Oliver using his right hand to hold himself up as he slots his mouth with hers. Y/n has her hands on top of his shoulders―gently, sliding them up to the sides of his neck, rubbing her thumbs over his cheeks in her usual, soft, loving way.

When he kissed her, it wasn't with just lips. It was with breath, his hand on her knee gently squeezing the make her giggle, smiling against his lips.

Everything was going smoothly, until she remembered a secret you've never told him.

When his mouth started moving lower, from her cheek, to the underside of her jaw. The slow kisses making her heart rate instinctively pick up. Her eyes fly open as his hand that was on her knee started to move to under her skirt. "Oliver―" Her hand that was on his face tightened, pulling him back. His eyes opened as he looked up at her, expression confused.

"Aye?" He mumbled out nearly breathlessly.

He paused, immediately, moving to sit back on his knees between your legs, hands held steady and open, eyes searching.

She looked up at him, moving her hands to her sides to help her sit up, closing her legs. The rain outside was now muffled with the embarrassment that was also flooding her stomach as she avoided eye contact with shaky breaths.

"I've... never cum before." She spoke softly, eyes burning with the threat of tears.

He blinked, lips slightly parting. "What?"

This really wasn't what the reaction from him she wanted. It made her nerves spike as tears filled her waterline.

She swallowed, taking a breath in she didn't know she wasn't taking. Her eyes meeting his momentarily before adverting somewhere else. The look of pure confusion on his face didn't help either.

She took a deep breath, fingers tightening on the soft sheets beneath her, "I’ve had lovers, you.. you know that. I’m not—I'm not untouched. But it’s never been…" She trailed off, heart hammering against her ribs ―making the small locket he gave her that was connected to a small silver chain pules on her skin.

"They didn’t really bother. I just… I faked it, usually. Made it easier."

Silence.

His hands twitched as his brain processed what he was just told. His eyes trailing to her trembling lips.

"And I don’t really know how to do it myself either,” She continued, her voice quieter now. "I've tried a few times. But... only thing that ever got close was… when I used to grind on a pillow when I was younger." A breath shuddered out of you, half-laugh, half-embarrassed. A single tear dropped form her lower lid, rolling down her face. "I know that sounds pathetic."

Oliver felt his heart ache at her words, she's never spoken of this before. Never. But it hurts all the same. He leaned in again, slow and sure. "Look at me, lass." She did, her eyes meeting with his.

His brow furrowed—not in judgment, but with something like ache. “Don’t you ever be ashamed of wantin’. Or of what you didn’t get. That’s on them, not you.”

Her throat tightened, lower lip starting to wobble gently. But her lifted his hand, cupping her face and rubbing his thumb along her lower lip gently, soft like a bunny's kiss.

“I’ve got time,” he said softly, hand brushing her hair back from her face. “And you’ve got nothin’ to prove. Let me show you slow, eh?”

You nodded, breath catching.

He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips.

“This time,” he murmured, eyes never leaving hers, “you don’t pretend.”

She nodded, as his hand that was cradling her face, gently wipes away her tears with his thumb.

His mouth brushed the inside of her wrist like he was promising something sacred―He was. When he looked up at her again, his voice dropped even quieter, like he didn’t want the fire or the storm to overhear.

“Lie back, love.”

She obeyed, the words easing her spine into the soft bed beneath her, head resting on the pillow that smelled faintly of pine smoke and something warm—like him.

Her chest rose and fell with slow breaths, her pules fluttering in her throat like a frightened bird.

Oliver settled between her legs again, dragging his palms slowly down her thighs. Not rushing. Never rushing. His hands were warm and solid, grounding her.

"Eyes on me, pretty girl," he said, barely above a whisper, like a secret shared only between her, the walls of the small cottage and him. His fingers began to trace the curve of her inner thigh, feather-light. “Alright?”

She nodded, lips parting, the air thick. He leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against hers for a moment. "Deep breaths, that's it."

She did as he said with a small nod, eyes fluttering closed as she took deep inhales, and exhaling.

His fingers ghosted higher, sliding under the hem of her underthings, and the coolness of the air gave way to the warmth of his touch.

And then—

A small gasp slipped from her lips as he touched her properly, his pointer and ring finger parting her while his middle moved with excruciating patience, mapping out every place she hadn’t been touched the right way. She shivered, not from cold, but from the intimacy of it—the way he looked and handled her like she wasn't just a body beneath him, but someone he wanted to see unravel.

“There,” he said gently, breath brushing her cheek. “You feel that, yeah? That’s yours.” He kissed her cheek tenderly as if he'd break her.

She nodded, too breathless to speak. Her hips rolled instinctively, trying to find more of what he was giving, moaning out.

He gave it.

Slowly, methodically, he circled his middle in a rhythm meant just for her. No guessing. No fumbling. No rush. Like he was reading her second by second. And all the while, his eyes stayed locked to hers, warm and steady.

“You’re doin’ so well,” he whispered, voice thick, as he slid his middle finger inside. She gasped gasped, hips twitching, fingers tightening on the sheets, but he didn’t push. Just held her there, watching her adjust. “Breathe, love. Deep as you can. Let it in.” She did—eyes glassy, thighs trembling as he started moving his fingers just a little, just enough.

He lifts his forehead form hers, shifting just enough to kiss her lips softly.

The heat in her lower stomach ignited, chills running over her skin, over her ass cheeks and up her back. Heat spreading to her cheeks and she tilts her head back against the pillow, her right hand lifting to his wrist, not stopping him. Just holding as she rolls her hips against his hand.

The coiling in her stomach was foreign and sharp and real. There was no rush. No faking. Just the building pressure, the tension curling tighter and tighter in her belly as she moaned louder.

“Don’t hide from it,” he said when her brows furrowed, when her hands gripped the blanket like she was afraid of being seen. “You feel it comin’, you let it take you.” He gently ordered.

She bit her lip, whimpering. “O-Oliver…”

“I’m here,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

The moment it hit her, her breath broke against his name, her body seizing with the wave that rushed over her like a summer storm. It was blinding. It was sharp. It was hers.

It was his. The thought of him being the first one to make her cum made something deep inside him explode.

She came with a soft cry, face turned into his pillows as she rode it out, thighs twitching, chest rising and falling in shallow pants. "Thaaat's it, good girl, Y/n." He groaned out as her liquids coats his hand, breathing out heavily from his open mouth.

He helped her ride through it, rubbing his middle finger over her clit till she started to squirm, then he stopped. A warmth blooming in his chest as she looked up at him, eyes glassy, face flushed as she breathed out a shuttered breath.

He leaned down and kissed her, mumbling sweet "I love you's" against her lips.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

ⓘ 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐕𝐱𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐬 - 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓, 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐎 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑

[alternativegirl23]

If he looked at ME like this? I’d be such a slut omg. I’d do anything he wanted me to. Head? No problem. Make you breakfast? Sure. Fuck me? Please do.

[alternativegirl23]

Hell yes we do

On Sundays we celebrate Andy Barber

Defending Jacob (2020)

[alternativegirl23]

Little taste of you

Remmick x Flapper!Reader | NYC, late 1920s |

Summery: Two strangers. One night. Blood in his mouth, gin on yours. Neither of you walking away clean.

A/n: Nothing to say just horny :) ** edited it a bit for a more juicier smex scene I’m 9 hours into my 12 hour car ride I have nothing better to do lol

W/c: lost count

He wasn’t paying attention when it happened.

Still licking someone else’s blood from his teeth when the tap of your shoulder hit his chest.

Your cigarette slipped from your fingers.

It hit the gutter and hissed.

“Shit,” you muttered, stumbling just a step as you caught yourself on his lapel.

Remmick looked down—broad-shouldered, dark-eyed, too handsome for this part of town. His hand hovered near your arm, but he didn’t touch you. Not yet. Feeding made him careful. The blood still hot in his throat. The hunger not quite gone.

“You alright, darlin’?”

You looked up, sharp and amused, lipstick smudged and mouth twisted. “Was. Till you killed my smoke.”

His smile twitched. “Then I owe you.”

You didn’t blink. “You do.”

He lit one for you.

You leaned in when the match flared, close enough to make the breath catch in his throat. Your perfume hit him first—gin, lilies, and trouble.

You blew the first drag past his cheek and smiled. “Buy me a drink, and we’ll call it even.”

“I’ve done worse for prettier,” he said.

And followed when you walked.

The bar was thick with smoke and jazz. You slid into a booth like you belonged to no one. He joined you, quiet, hungry.

“You from here?” you asked, shrugging off your coat.

“Not lately.”

“Then what brings you back?”

He looked at your mouth. “Might be fate.”

You drank gin. He barely touched his. Not that you noticed. Or cared.

You smoked the one he lit for you, letting it burn down slow.

“You always this smooth?” you asked.

“Only when it counts.”

“And tonight counts?”

He met your eyes. “Darlin’, it’s the only thing that does.”

You talked like strangers who didn’t want to be.

What he did. Where you danced. The wrong kinds of men. The right kinds of trouble.

He didn’t press. You didn’t overshare.

You liked the way he looked at you—steady, focused. Like he was already undressing you with his hands in his pockets.

You let him.

He asked you to dance.

You didn’t say yes.

Just took his hand and pulled him out of the booth.

The music swung. Bodies moved around you, but you kept your own rhythm. You didn’t touch him much. Didn’t have to. He hovered near, eyes low-lidded, smiling like the devil with a secret.

“You always watch a girl like she’s a last meal?”

He chuckled. “Wouldn’t you wanna savor it?”

You raised a brow. “Is that what this is? A taste?”

He didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

⸻

You kissed him in the dark corner behind the jukebox. Just a press of lips. A dare.

He kissed you back like a man not used to being given things.

And then you said, “Come on. I don’t like to waste a night.”

The back room was quiet. Forgotten.

He kicked the door shut. You dropped your coat.

“I should ask if you’re sure,” he said, leaning in.

“You should,” you said. “But don’t.”

His kiss was slow. Deep. He tasted like smoke and something older, stranger. You moaned into his mouth as he pushed you against the wall

His hands ran up your thighs, dragged your dress to your hips. You undid his belt with one flick.

“Jesus,” he muttered, watching you drop to your knees.

“Don’t blaspheme, handsome. You’ll ruin the mood.”

You took his cock in your mouth, slow and smooth, your lipstick already ruined. He grunted, low and throaty. One hand in your hair, the other lighting another cigarette.

“You’re a goddamn vision, sweetheart.”

You looked up at him, mouth full, lashes low. His cock heavy on your tongue as you slid down slow, letting him feel the heat of your throat inch by inch.

He tasted like smoke and salt and sin. A little blood, maybe. Or maybe that was your imagination. Either way—you didn’t stop.

You dragged your mouth up just to swirl your tongue around the head. Kissed it like it was something sacred, then sucked it back down, slow and tight, cheeks hollowed.

“Fuuuck,” he hissed, head tipping back as the cigarette clung to the corner of his mouth.

His free hand found your jaw, thumb stroking the slick stretch of your cheek as you worked him.

“Look at you,” he murmured, rough and reverent. “Mouth like velvet… takin’ me like you were born for it.”

You moaned around him.

He twitched in your mouth.

You pulled off with a wet pop, spit stringing from your lips to his cock, and stroked him slow with your hand while you caught your breath.

“You gonna come like this?” you teased, lips swollen, voice husky.

He smirked around the smoke. “Darlin’, if I do, it won’t be the first time a pretty girl took me apart with her mouth.”

“Mm.” You licked the tip. “Then I guess I better ruin you proper.”

And you did.

You bobbed your head faster now, twisted your hand at the base, let the sounds get filthy—wet and hot, messy and real. You loved it. The way he groaned. The way his thighs tensed. The way he whispered, “Fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me lose it—”

But you didn’t let him finish.

You stood, grinning, wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Not yet,” you said, grabbing his tie. “Not until I say so.”

He grabbed you by the waist and spun you around. Bent you over the table with a low, wrecked growl.

“Bossy little thing,” he muttered, dragging your dress up. “I like that.”

You felt the flat heat of his palm against your ass, then the sharp tug of your panties ripping halfway down your thighs.

“Still want it rough, sweetheart?”

“Break me,” you gasped.

He didn’t wait.

He shoved into you in one long, brutal thrust.

You cried out, eyes wide, back arching. “Shit—Remmick—”

He grunted, holding your hips tight. “That’s it, baby. Take me. Take every inch.”

You were already dripping, stretched wide and throbbing around him. He started slow, savoring it, the sound of skin on skin sharp and slick in the small room.

Then he picked up the pace.

Harder. Deeper. Meaner.

Your face pressed into the table, mouth open in a silent moan as you clutched the wood like it could save you.

“Feel that?” he growled. “That’s me makin’ you mine.”

One of his hands slipped between your thighs, fingers working your clit in tight circles while he fucked you.

“You’re soaked, sweetheart. You like it rough like this?”

“Yes,” you gasped. “Yes—don’t stop—”

“Not planning to.”

You rocked back against him, desperate to keep up with his rhythm, and the room filled with the lewd sound of skin against skin.

He wanted to ruin you.

Wanted to hear you beg. Wanted to see you soaked and split apart on his cock. But more than that—

More than anything—

He wanted to bite you.

To sink his teeth into your neck and feel your pulse stutter against his tongue. To drink you down while your body clenched and came around him.

He could taste it—your blood, your sex, your sweat.

It flooded his senses.

He saw the vein in your neck fluttering.

He almost lost it.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he leaned down and dragged his tongue over your shoulder, murmuring filth between each thrust.

“Like it like this, baby?”

“Yes—yes—fuck—Remmick—”

You came hard—soaked his cock, screamed into your arm.

He didn’t stop.

He was close now, you could feel it. His rhythm breaking, cock twitching deep inside you.

He slammed into you one last time and came hard, buried deep, with a groan that felt like the end of the world.

You both stayed there, breathing, shaking, sweating.

“Christ,” he muttered. “You’re trouble.”

You smiled over your shoulder, lips swollen, eyes half-lidded.

And for a moment—

Just one—

He didn’t feel like a monster.

Silence.

Just breath. Sweat. Smoke.

You pulled your dress down. Smoothed your hair. Took the cigarette from his lips and finished it.

He watched you like he already missed you.

“You ever coming back this way?” you asked.

He smiled. “If I do, I’ll look for you.”

“You better.”

You opened the door. Looked back once.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Didn’t stop watching.

And Remmick

Well, he didn’t bite you.

Didn’t drain you dry.

Didn’t mark you like all the others.

But damn if he didn’t feel hollow when you left.

Because that night, you were his.

And he knew he’d never get another taste.

The End ❤︎

[alternativegirl23]

Oh goodie, another fictional man to hyperfixate on....

[alternativegirl23]

For all of the northerners that stood up for Texas during our freeze and said, "Don't make fun of them, they've never dealt with this before. Their infrastructure isn't made for snow and freezing."

This one is for you.

Where I live 108°F with 80% humidity with no wind is normal.

Pacific North West is dealing historic best waves 35-40°C or 95-105°F.

First of all. Don't make fun of them for bitching about the heat. Just like Texas isn't built for a freeze and our pipes burst, Pacific North West isn't built for heat and a lot of their homes don't have AC.

If you live somewhere with a high humidity like 80+ HUMIDITY IS NOT YOUR FRIEND. The "humidity makes it feel cooler" is a lie once it gets beyond a point.

If you live somewhere with a lower humidity, misters are nice to cool off outside.

Once you get over 90°F (32°C) a fan will not help you. It's just pushing around hot air. (I mean if you can't afford a small AC unit because they're expensive as hell, by all means a fan is better than nothing).

Window AC units will let mosquitoes or other small bugs in. Sucks, but that's life.

Now is not the time to me modest. If you have to cover for religious reasons, by all means. If you don't, I've seen people wear short shorts and a swim top. It's not trashy if it keeps you from getting heat stroke.

If you do have to cover up for religious reasons, look for elephant pants or something similar. They're made with a breathable material.

Shade is better than no shade, but that shit it just diet sun after some point. Don't think shade will save you from heat stroke.

I know the "drink your water" is a fun meme now, but if you're sweating excessively you need electrolytes. Drink Gatorade, Powerade, or Pedialite PLEASE. I don't care if you're fucking sitting in one spot all day. That shit WILL save you from heat stroke.

Most importantly. RESEARCH THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HEAT STROKE AND HEAT EXHAUSTION PLEASE!

If you're diabetic and can't drink Gatorade, mix water, fruit juice, and either lite salt or pink salt

If you can afford it, cover windows with thick curtains to insulate the house

If you have tile floors, lay on them with skin to tile contact. If you don't, laying your head on cool counters works too.

If the temperature where you're at is hotter than your body temperature, don't wear heat wicking clothing. Moisture wicking is safe though.

Check your medication labels. Many make you more susceptible to sun and heat

-Room temperature water will get into your body faster. This is something I learned doing marching band in high summer in Georgia, and it saved all of our asses. Sip it, don't gulp it, especially if you're getting into the red; same goes for whatever fluid you're drinking. And just in general drink during the day.

-If you are moving from an air conditioned space to an un-air conditioned space, if at all possible try to make the shift gradual. When my dad and I were working outside and in un-ac houses a few years ago, he'd turn the air down to low in the truck about ten-fifteen minutes before we got where we were going. This way your body doesn't go from low low temps to high temps. S'bad for you.

-If you can, keep your lights off during the day. Light bulbs may not generate a lot of heat, but the difference is noticeable when it gets hot enough. I literally only turn my bedroom light on in the evening when it gets too dark.

Don't be afraid to just like... pour water on yourself if you need to. The evaporation will cool you off.

Put your hand to the cement for 15 seconds. If you can't handle the heat, it'll burn your dog's paws. Don't let them walk on it.

Dogs with flat faces are more prone to heat stroke. Don't leave them out unsupervised.

Frozen fruit is delicious in water.

Wet/Cold hat/handkerchief on your head/neck will help you stay cool.

Pickle juice is great for electrolytes! You can even make pickle juice Popsicles!

Heat exhaustion is more, "drink water and get you cooled off." Heat stroke is more "Oh my god call 911."

Image Description provided by @loveize

[Image description: an infographic showing the difference between heat exhaustion and heat stroke. The graphic is labeled "Heat Dangers: First Warning." Signs of heat exhaustion: faint or dizzy, excessive sweating, cool, pale, clammy skin, rapid, weak pulse, muscle cramps. If you think you or someone else may be experiencing heat exhaustion, get to a cool, air-conditioned place, drink water if conscious, and take a cool shower or use cold compress. Signs of heat stroke: throbbing headache, no sweating, red, hot, dry skin, rapid, strong pulse, may lose consciousness. If you think you or someone else may be experiencing heat stroke, call 911. End description]

Be safe.

-fae

[alternativegirl23]

Why isn't Bucky waking me up to have his way with me?

I wish I had the answer, nonnie!

Slip Inside

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky can't resist having you when he comes home.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, somnophilia (at first), established relationship, pet names, possessive behavior, slight feels (it's me, okay?), lovesick and needy Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I can't send Bucky, but here you lovelies go! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wasn't meant to be home until tomorrow. He almost called to let you know he’d be back a day early, but it was late and he didn't want to disturb your slumber. Imagining the happy look in your eyes when you woke up beside him brought a smile to his face. Being loved by you was something he still couldn't believe was real some days, but he knew in the depths of his soul that you would always be his girl.

“Welcome home,” he whispered to himself when he saw you in bed, a sight for sore eyes.

He kept his gaze on you as he undressed, careful not to make any noise. You had an arm draped over the pillow next to you, the one he usually rested his head on. His heart raced as he took a step closer and gently pulled the blanket away, your body barely covered by the shirt he recently bought for you. Shivering slightly, you tried to curl in on yourself, but stilled quickly.

Like you knew he was watching you.

“I love you,” he breathed into the room.

You replied with a moan and rubbed your hand against the pillow.

You were beautiful when you slept. If you asked him, you were gorgeous all the time. A breathless kind of vision that he grew to appreciate more and more each day. But you weren't like a piece of art for him to just admire. You were the type of beauty meant to be appreciated.

And he gladly did so with his hands, mouth, and cock.

Oh, he loved you. Fuck, he needed you, too. It was an ache. A hunger. Awake, asleep, it didn't matter as long as he had you. And you were understanding enough to let him take what he needed.

“Mine,” he whispered.

Bucky quickly took the opportunity to slip into the bed and spoon you from behind. Your steady breathing grounded him in a sense while awakening the beast he kept at bay. The one that wanted to come out and play. One that needed to bury himself deep and keep you full.

If you were awake, he would've turned your head to kiss you nice and slow, unrushed even with the mounting desperation. Instead he rubbed his nose and scruffy chin at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, breathing in the distinctly sweet scent of you while wanting to leave his claim. That no one else could touch or have you. That you were his.

“You're mine,” he growled lowly.

Rubbing the inside of your thigh once he pushed your shirt up enough, he heard your breathing hitch. He wasn't ready for you to wake up just yet, but it didn't keep him moving his hand higher and grasping the elastic of your underwear. He debated tearing the offending fabric off, but he couldn't fault you for wearing them.

You didn't know he'd come home tonight.

He also thought about touching you through your panties to feel you squirm under his touch. Your whines and whimpers always made his cock twitch, especially when you soaked the fabric. Sometimes he liked to shove them in your mouth so you could taste yourself and know he was the one who did that to you.

Only him.

He brushed his lips along your skin as he pulled it down, almost wishing he was in front of you so he could look down and see your exposed pussy. “Mine,” he whispered again as his fingers parted your folds and skimmed over your clit.

You moved back against him with a sigh, enticing him without even trying. Alternating between teasing the bundle of nerves and your slit, he felt his own breathing get heavier and harsh with each passing second. By the time he brought his fingers to his mouth to lick your juices away, his cock was hard and heavy with the need to sink into your dripping cunt. He grunted as your flavor exploded on his tongue. He was done with foreplay.

And with how you panted and writhed, you were ready for him.

He hooked your leg over his thick thigh to open you up, hoping it wouldn't hurt when you stretched around him. “I love you,” he said once more as he brushed the tip of his cock against your hole, sighing as he slowly filled you up.

He had to close his eyes and hide his face in your neck to keep from losing it. He could go for hours when he wanted to, but the feel of your warm wetness gripping him like a vice was almost too much. Finishing quickly or not didn't matter. You’d take it as a compliment if your sweet cunt made him empty himself inside you so fast.

But he had to make it last and make you come first.

With a deep breath, he got himself under control. You let out the sweetest whine when he almost pulled out completely and shoved himself back in. Curled around you, all you could do was take his deep thrusts. He could've breathed through his nose and tried to stay quiet. He could’ve gone slow and steady. But he moaned and nipped at your skin, not wanting to hide his desire for you.

He couldn't see your face, but he felt you roll your hips back as you began to stir and heard another whine escape. You weren't completely awake, but your body craved what he was doing to you. It was enough for him to roll you on your stomach and quicken his pace.

“Bucky?” You mumbled.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I couldn't resist. Your pussy’s too good,” he groaned, putting a hand to the back of your neck to hold you still. “I need you. Need to feel you come on my cock.”

You fluttered around him as he stretched over your back, forcing you to take every inch of him. Your body went pliant as you let out a tired and needy moan. If you wanted him to stop, you would’ve told him to do so. “Please,” you whined as he practically rutted into you.

“I got you,” he grunted, driving harder into you as your fingers twisted in the sheets. “Missed you. Missed you so fucking much. Might need to keep my cock in you all night.”

You trembled, both of you knowing you’d lay there and let him fuck you all night if he asked. You were so good for him. And greedy. It would be wrong of him not to give you what you longed for.

“And you'll let me fill you up, won't you? Of course, you will,” he panted against your ear. You tried to arch your back, but his massive frame overpowered you. “It’s okay. Just take it. Let me have you.”

Fucking you raw was a gift he’d selfishly continue to ask for and take. But how could he not? You always let out the prettiest sounds when he flooded your holes.

He couldn't stop himself from shoving his hand between the mattress and your body, seeking out your clit to tip you over the edge. Moans poured from you as he lightly pinched it, giving you the push you needed. “That’s it. Come on my cock. My cock. My good girl,” he encouraged as you clamped around him hard enough for him to lose his breath.

You nearly cried as he took you apart. “Bu… Bucky…”

“Trembling around my cock. Greedy girl,” he moaned, his hips snapping faster as he brought his mouth back to your ear. “My turn.”

He let out a deep groan as he stilled, filling you. His release hit him so hard his head spun, muttering his love for and possession of you as his eyes fluttered. You let out a broken moan as you clenched around him again and he had to keep from collapsing against you, both of you fighting for air.

“Love you,” he mumbled, wanting you to hear it now that you were awake.

He only pulled out so he could move you to your back and desperately kiss your lips the way he needed to, pushing himself back inside your leaking hole with a hum. Your eyes were half-lidded when he broke the kiss. Your gaze made him want to ruin you all over again.

“Love you, too,” you croaked, your back bowing when he groped your breast through the shirt. “Welcome home.”

Bucky’s heart pounded as he leaned down to kiss you again. It was a dance of tongue and teeth, dizzying and passionate. Some days you were the fire and others you were the fuel. You accepted the entirety of him and he welcomed everything you selflessly gave him in return.

“Good to be home, baby,” he smirked, brushing his thumb along your covered nipple. “Now stay awake. I need to fill you up at least two more times before the sun comes up.”

Even after that, he wasn't close to being done with you. But he was whole because he was home with you. And that would always be enough.

We deserve this, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[alternativegirl23]

Puppy is one with nature

(via)

[alternativegirl23]

Every light fantasy story needs

a talking teacup that gives terrible advice

a forest that hums lullabies

a bakery that bakes memories into tea cakes

a prince who turns into a frog on purpose

a moonbeam that you can fold into origami

a pond that reflects your happiest memories

a rainbow that you can climb into the clouds

a scarf that changes colour based on nearby magic

a rocking chair that tells stories from your childhood

a bookshop where book characters sometimes step out for a cuppa

a sleepy coastal town where the sea leaves gifts on your doorstep

Every dark fantasy story needs

a cloak that hides your emotions, not your body

a library where the books whisper secrets and the bookshelves reassemble themselves into a maze the more you want to seek a book

a map that leads you to a different foe every time

a lantern that only lights when someone tells the truth

a door that only opens if you promise never to return

a throne that turns its user into what the kingdom truly deserves

a river that flows with memories instead of water

a sword that hungers, not for blood, but for guilt

a child’s lullaby that summons something watching from the woods

Every academia story needs

all nighters fuelled by caffeine

a rumour about a professor who disappeared halfway through a semester

fighting for the last copy of a textbook

racing each other to find the best supervisor

verbal sparring on question sets

whispered debates in libraries

a mentor who’s either wildly inspiring or borderline unhinged

one student who always sits in the same spot until one day, they don’t

a group project that goes horrifically wrong

philosophising at 3 a.m. in corridors and staircases

the sudden realisation you’ve been working in the library for 12 hours straight and haven’t eaten

a changing quote written daily on the whiteboard that no one claims

Every romance story needs

a lapse of judgement, then an apology

a pet that goes astray--they go find it together

a shared umbrella in the rain

an fight in a kitchen that turns into dancing

a letter never meant to be opened--but it is

a late-night walk where neither wants to say goodbye

a borrowed sweater that still smells like them

a plant they raise together

a reunion at a train station or airport terminal

Every horror story needs

the ghost of your enemy

bloody footprints that lead into a desolate building

a voice that mimics your own, but whispers from another room

a knock at the door when no one should know you’re there

a journal that ends mid-sentence

a smell of rot with no source

a shadow that lingers long after the person is gone

a warning scrawled on the ceiling in your own handwriting

a room that’s colder than the rest of the house, no matter the season

Every historical story needs

a letter that never reached its destination, until now

a secret stitched into the lining of a coat

a forbidden romance

a family heirloom with a history only the family knows about

a moment where history happens in the background while the characters live their quiet lives

an encounter with a real historical figure

an ordinary object that survives through generations

a meal shared between enemies during a truce

[alternativegirl23]

So adorable!

The happiest boy

(via)

[alternativegirl23]

If only all my teachers were this fun when I was in school

[alternativegirl23]

Loved this little addition!

Idk why I just started imagining Malyshka watching movies about mafia / crime documentaries and being excited when the mob guy gets caught by the police and Bucky being like ???

Nah she wouldn't get excited about a mobster getting caught. That would make her worry about her own mobster potentially getting caught. Not that Bucky would let that happen.

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky x Reader

WC: Less than 1k

A/N: Part of my mafia series. Written on my phone and unbetad.

One night he finds you in the living room, wrapped up in a blanket, watching a reenactment of a police raid in a small coastal town. Bucky leans over the back of the couch, his chin on your head as his hands slide down your arms. "That's not right. Andrea wasn't there that night. He sent his Capo in his place. Andrea is somewhere on the Ionian conducting business on one of his yachts."

Your head slowly tilts back, eyes widening. "What?"

Bucky nods at the shackled man on the screen. "They got the wrong man. Only a handful of people know what Andrea looks like. He spends more time hiding his identity than he does on his businesses. I thought the fucker was paranoid but guess he was right. Don't tell him I said that when we meet up next month, he's already insufferable. Last thing I need is to hear him brag about this."

Your eyes can't get any wider but it feels like they're trying. You understand the words he's saying, they make sense individuality but you're trying to piece them together and failing. Because if you're hearing him correctly that means he knows the guy you spent the past hour watching.

And apparently he's not in prison like the host is claiming.

Bucky laughs under his breath and gently smoothes your raised brows back down with his thumb.

"Are you being serious?" You searches his eyes, finding a quiet amusement reflecting back at you

"I am. He's not a bad guy. Does good business. You'll like him. Don't bring up football though, you'll never get him to shut up."

You scramble for a response to that. What do you say when your mobster boyfriend casually mentions that you're going to meet the head of the Italian mafia. Oh okay. Sure that's an every day occurrence. But then again your man is the Pakhan so you guess it is an every day occurrence now. At least in his world. Which is slowly becoming your world too.

A preview for the next episode plays, rolling images of a dark eyed man flash across the screen and Bucky grins. "Shae. He's already escaped. They haven't announced it yet, they're hoping to catch him before they have to admit they lost him. Again."

Your mouth drops open, before the stunned question can spill out, Bucky leans down and brushes his lips over yours. There's a heady little thrill winding around your spine. Bucky can tell the shock is wearing off and your curiosity is taking over. So he gives you a little more.

"I'm the one who helped him. Now he owes me a favor," he murmurs between kisses. He stands, stretching his arms over his head with a groan, the bottom of his shirt rising, exposing his tattoed six pack.

"And I get access to a couple of ports in his territory," he casually tacks on. "If you're so curious about the life, you can just ask me. At least you'll get the truth instead of"—he gesture dismissively at the host—"whatever bullshit they come up with."

"And you'll tell me everything?"

Bucky gazes down at you, an indulgent smile pulling at his lips, his hands resting on your shoulders. You holds all the cards and you still doesn't know it. "Everything and more Malyshka."

[alternativegirl23]

That one anon who mentioned badjur… listen.

Ghost who does audio porn. You end up going on a date with him not knowing who he is at all.

You both end up together are dating for a while to the point opening nsfw reddits and twitters aren’t embarrassing.

Until you’re scrolling through your twitter and he sees his audio porn twitter pop up.

You both have a very embarrassing realisation and conversation after that.

Both of you keeping a dirty secret from each other. Ghost is rough at the edges but sweet to you, big hand enveloping yours as you walk around the park. You feel so guilty thinking about how good that would look on camera, big hand squeezing your ass and spreading you apart for your subscribers. Or his hand covering your mouth, acting in place of the medical mask you usually wear, you're sure you'd earn bank with just a few shots of that.

It hits Ghost too, when you laugh at something, when your voice gets low and husky with sleep; you'd sound so fucking good in one of his audios. Your voice soft and pitched low, maybe just giving a few breathy noises for background, or letting him record those pretty wet sounds your cunt makes when he fingers it. You'd be such a hit, he's sure his Patrons would love it.

It's embarrassing, and a little shameful that you both have been keeping it to yourselves so long. Long enough that not saying anything is tantamount to a betrayal. Long enough that it would be easier to quit your (very lucrative) hobby rather than tell each other that you're making porn.

Of course like all houses made of cards, it just takes one breath to knock them down. Or one notification. A buzzing of your phone when one of Simon's patreon posts goes live, a notification alert on Simon's phone when you like one of his sneak peaks on twitter. One spare glance at a screen to send it all tumbling apart.

And one very awkward conversation to reveal that you're both more than just fans, you're rabid for each other. So why not indulge in those pretty little fantasies? And what better way to introduce a partner to your audience than by showing off the cock that's been gaping you for the last few months?

[alternativegirl23]

Mutt? New kink activated.

bucky with an overstimulation kink, holding you down as you try to push his face away from between your legs, begging for him to stop. He’s not budging until you’ve said your safe word tho

ohhh…the way you’re pushing him away and he fucking growls against your soaked cunt.

“no, sweetheart—“ he slips a third finger in, watching your cunt swallow him whole. “you gotta give daddy atleast two more before you get his cock.”

you whine again, the overstimulation making your brain fuzzy and tears pricking your eyes. you squirmed under him, trying to pull away

wrong move.

“stay. put. mutt.” he growls as his metal arm comes to hold your hips down against the bed as he looks up at you. “be good and let daddy have you.”

[alternativegirl23]

NSFW Bucky Thought II

Bucky LOVES when you get all teary and whiny while he's fucking you into the mattress. LOVES when you go absolutely dumb on his cock and can only mumble out "James, James, James" this man absolutely loves it when he gets your pussy so wet it's making an absolute mess. he loves hearing it squelch as he's thrusting into you, loves feeling the wetness over his thighs and watching it roll down your ass. but you? oh my god you're embarrassed. because you don't wanna make a mess, don't wanna upset him. just wanna make him so happy, especially when he's spoiling you and making you feel so good. so you try to move your body away from him. he has NONE of it. he'd grip your hips tight. "where you think you're going huh?" and you'd start to cry a little, overwhelmed by the way he's making you feel and the embarrassment of the mess you're making. "don't wanna make a mess on your bed" you'd mumble out between sniffles. "it's okay baby, make a mess. show me how good im making you feel, yeah? i'll clean it up later, doll. you're such a good girl. my good girl. show me how much your pussy loves me."

[alternativegirl23]

Would Be Nice

Summary: Steve is in a mood to play.

A/N: Established relationship. Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.

A/N2: Based on a dream I had last night.

Warnings: Implied smut. Please let me know if I missed any.

Steve is usually good about letting you have your time to yourself. He understands the need for alone time and he appreciates when you give him his space, too.

Usually. Some days he gets into a mood where he wants your attention. To be fair, you do the same from time to time.

The two of you established a game, "would be nice". If you absolutely needed to be left alone, you wouldn't play. If you were open to it, you'd play along. To those not in the know, it might seem like you were in a passive aggressive competition, but you two knew better. It was all in fun.

Steve finds you reading on the couch and starts. "Would be nice if you'd let me sit next to you."

You look up at him and smile. "Would be nice if you'd hold me while I read."

He's immediately on the couch and wrapping his arms around you. He nuzzles into you, making you giggle. And this is enough.

For a moment.

He nips at your neck, and you let out a little gasp. "Would be nice if you'd pay attention to me."

"Would be nice if you'd let me finish the chapter," you retort.

Let the negotiations begin, Steve thought with a wicked grin. "Would be nice to get under that shirt. Give my hands something to do."

You give a pretend exasperated sigh. "Would be nice if I could sit in your lap while I finish the chapter."

You giggle as Steve moves you into his lap, your back against his front. His hands are under your shirt, your bra, caressing, squeezing, alternating firm and gentle touches. His face is still nuzzling into your neck, alternating little kisses and bites.

Both of you know you're not going to finish the chapter at this rate, but you insist on trying, if only because you love making Steve work for it.

He moves your legs so that one is on each side of his, spreading you open.

"Would be nice if you'd let me under those panties of yours," he growls into your ear.

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @kmc1989; @lokislady82; @peaches1958; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[alternativegirl23]

So glad this popped up

Bucky knows you’re faking

Bucky knows you’re faking. He has no idea where you met this guy or why you’re still with him, in fact Bucky almost feels sorry for him. Because this guy thinks he’s doing a good job. He thinks he’s making you cry from pleasure, he thinks he’s pulling orgasms from you left right and center but Bucky knows.

Becuase he’s heard you. Fucking smelled you.

In your room, all by yourself.

He hears every moan and whimper, all those noises you can’t hold back. The filthy squelching of your pussy making a mess on the sheets is a sound unmatched. You always smell so good after and he can’t get over how soft and sweet you are, all fucked out with a quiver in your voice, not realizing he knows exactly what you’ve been up to with those pretty fingers between your legs.

He’s seen the way you practically glow afterwards, a shy smile on your face, acting like you weren’t moaning like a bitch in heat minutes ago. Always when it’s well past midnight, coming down for a snack, a thin sheen of sweat still covering your skin. He’s usually in the kitchen, having to pretend his cock isn’t aching after hearing how pretty you sound, how desperate and loud you get when you think no one can hear you.

But he can.

Bucky grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, smirking when he heard your less than enthusiastic sounds and silence a few minutes later. He watched carefully as you made your way into the kitchen with nothing but a flimsy robe covering you, eyes growing wide when you realized you weren’t alone.

“Have a fun night?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow, struggling to keep his eyes on your face and not the loose knot, so close to letting your robe fall open, giving him access to that pretty body-

“Oh-yes” you shrugged, suddenly feeling hot all over realizing Bucky had probably heard you, “I-um-I don’t think I’ll see him again”

“Why not” Bucky prodded, his curiosity piqued, self-restraint faltering, he couldn't hold back, not when that poor excuse of a robe was begging to be ripped off. “He can’t make you cum, can he princess”

“What?” You stared at Bucky like a deer caught in headlights, frozen on the spot, mouth gaping while he chuckled.

“I said-” he got up from his place at the kitchen island, biting his lip while backing you against the counter, your eyes growing wide feeling his hard, poorly contained bulge press onto you. "He can't make you cum? Can he?"

“I-" You stammered, gripping onto the edge of the counter, surely you were dreaming, there's no way this was really happening, all the fantasies you've thought of coming to life-

“Oh baby” Bucky cooed at your flustered state, tilting your face up to meet his eyes, “Don’t get all shy on me now bunny. Was that it? Did he make you cum?”

You shook your head, still nearly frozen like a baby deer, whimpering when Bucky groaned, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Knew you were faking it princess, I've heard you, y'know" Bucky smirked at your gasp, clearly mortified that he'd heard you during your most intimate moments. "Y'sound so pretty when you touch yourself baby"

"Bucky" You whined, not sure what you were begging for, arousal pooling between your legs, spreading your knees slightly to press yourself against his thigh.

"Tell me to stop" his jaw was clenched, gripping onto the single strange of restraint he had, his fingers toying with the knot of your robe.

"D-don't stop" You let out a shuddered breath, shivering when your robe was thrown off before you could blink, Bucky's lips smashing onto yours. His hand gripped the back of your neck, his tongue claiming your mouth as his, teeth nipping and sucking your lip. He lifted you onto the cool marble counter with ease, metal fingers swiping through your folds, gathering your slick before shoving them in his mouth, groaning at the taste.

"You're fuckin' sweet bunny" He didn't give you a chance to respond, prying your thighs apart and dipping down to lick a fat stripe through your soaked cunt before latching onto your clit. You cried out in pleasure, his wide shoulders keeping your legs spared apart.

"B-Bucky!!" Your head was thrown back when he shoved two fingers into you, curling and fucking them into you, moaning when you grabbed onto the roots of his hair, tugging harder the closer you got.

"Already sound so pretty baby" He let out a dark chuckle, kissing your pouty face when he pulled away just before you reached your high, tugging down his sweats to pull his cock out, "Bet you'd sound even better when you're stuffed, hm?"

"Please" You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, practically humping yourself on him, desperate to be filled. His cock was curved towards his tummy, the swollen head dripping with precum. There was something about him still being fully dressed while you were stark naked in the middle of the kitchen that aroused you more, knowing damn well anyone could walk by at any given moment.

"You need a fat cock to cum around, don't you bunny? My bunny's such a little slut, she can't cum unless she has a fat cock fucking her brains out?" He taunted, loving the way you were nothing more than a babbling mess already, moaning when you felt his tip catch against your fluttering entrance.

"Please Bucky, need it"

"I know baby, I know, my poor baby needs cock, doesn't she" His eyes locked with yours as he started to breech your tight hole, your breath catching in your throat at the stretch.

"Breathe, s'just me baby, swear you got my cock so hard-shit" He hissed as he pushed himself to the hilt, pulling out at an agonizing slow pace, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

"Faster Bucky, please-please need you" You tried to get him to move but he shook his head, feeling you flutter around him.

"First tell me what you call be princess, what do you call me when you're all alone with these sweet fingers"

Had Bucky not been holding onto you, you would have fainted; you had no idea he'd also heard the nights where you desperately moaned and came over and over again thinking of him. Bucky smirked against your skin, slowing down the drag of his cock again, snapping his hips suddenly making you squeal.

“C’mon darling, what was that you called me”

“DADDYY” you wailed, wrapping your thighs around his waist when he stated to pound you with a bruising grip around your waist, the clinks of glasses in the cupboards growing louder the harder he fucked you on the counter. "OH-GOD-D-DADDY"

"That's right, daddy's fuckin' you baby, makes me so hard when you call me that" Bucky groaned, thrusting faster, already on the brink of an orgasm. He could feel his cock swell each time you moaned or whimpered, his hand sneaking down to rub your clit.

"N'look at this precious clit, s'this what you're always playing with baby? Always rubbing this needy little button, thinking on one can hear you?"

"F-fuck Buckyyyy" Your eyes rolled back, tears streaming down your cheeks when he rubbed you faster, your first orgasm choking his cock without warning. You couldn't formulate words, letting out silent screams, blinking pleasure consuming you.

"That's it baby, moan for me, cum for me, cum for your daddy baby, know you've never cum for anyone else, go on n'cum for daddy, make daddy proud" Bucky looked feral, grunting with each thrust, desperately holding off his own orgasm, needing to feel you cum around him over and over again.

"OH-DADDY-D-DON'T ST-STOPP"

"Look at you baby, such a good girl for daddy, giving daddy all of her cum" Bucky's eyes were wild, staring at where he cock split you open, his length and trimmed hair covered in your creamy mess. "Daddy wants all of his baby's cream sweets"

"OH FUCCCKK" You wailed, your juices squirting all over his crotch, making it impossible for Bucky to hold off any more as you clung into him.

"So fuckin' proud of you baby, made daddy's cock feel so good, y'know that? Y'make daddy so hard, so horny, you're gonna make daddy cum so hard angel, m'gonna cum so hard for you, Fuck-gonna fill you up bunny-take it-take my cum-fuck-FUCCKK" Bucky roared against your neck as streams of cum started to fill you, his cock throbbing and twitching inside you. You were limp in his hold, passed out from pleasure, your combined mess dripping down your thighs and onto the floor.

You didn't even realize you were tucked under the warmed blankets, wrapped up in a pair of thick, muscular arms, Bucky's large chest acting as a pillow. You nuzzled into him while he softly petted you hair, blissfully unaware it was just the start of a very long night.