#sub mcu

[buckyseternaldoll]

𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐲

(i know this gif has no relation to this story and not even sexy, but let's say it's a hint of where i got the inspiration from 😭)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: After sparring leaves Bucky pinned and panting, you discover just how much he craves control being taken from him—how easily he’d fall apart for you, again and again. All he wants now? To worship you from his knees, breathless and bound.

Disclaimer: 18+ (mdni!), explicit smut content, sub!bucky, soft dom!reader, breathplay (m receiving), restraint (hands tied), edging, cockwarming, mirror sex, face riding, praise kink, begging, overstimulation, spit & slick mention, aftercare

Word Count: 5.5k

Author's Note: Another sub!Bucky exploration, not a direct continuation to knife's edge.

You never thought your usual sparring session would end up like this.

Bucky, breathless beneath you.

Begging to be pinned.

It was supposed to be just another late Saturday morning—another round of sweaty training mats and mutual bruises. You and Bucky had a tradition of sparring together. No gear, no audience, just the two of you testing reflexes, trading smirks and smartass remarks between blows.

You’d shown up in your usual getup: a black cropped racerback tank top, clinging just enough to show the line of sweat along your spine. Your thighs were wrapped in dark grey workout shorts, snug at the hips with a skin-tight black compression layer underneath that hugged every curve. Breathable, flexible—meant for movement. Meant to fight.

Bucky was already stretching when you arrived, wearing that damn grey tank top—thin and fitted tight across his chest, the fabric straining slightly at the seams of his shoulders. His vibranium arm caught the light as he moved, and those black sweatpants hung low on his hips like a challenge, soft cotton doing nothing to hide what was underneath.

But there was a silent rule you always followed: you never restrained him.

Not fully. Not with real holds, not with the ones you knew could trigger something. You knew what that feeling could do to him. That cold, metal-locked part of his past that still haunted him some days. So you stayed clear. Always danced around the edge. Kept it safe.

But not today.

Today, he stood in front of you with that look in his eye—the one he gets when he’s about to do something reckless.

“No more soft hits,” he said, breath coming steady. “I want all of it. Full force. No holding back.”

You hesitated, brows drawing together. But then he pushed you—taunted, tested, fighting harder than usual like he wanted to provoke you.

And so, you snapped.

A quick parry. A fake left. You ducked low, legs twisting—and locked your thighs around his neck in one sharp, fluid movement. You hit the mat with him caught between them, back pressed to the floor as your thighs flexed tight around his jaw. The fabric of your shorts shifted against his stubble with every breath he took. You could feel the scrape of it—rough, bristled, a sharp burn of friction against your inner thigh with each shallow exhale. It made the hold feel more intimate, more raw. Like every twitch of his mouth against your skin was confession.You twisted just enough to keep pressure on his neck but not hurt him. Just enough to make him feel the helplessness. The submission.

And god—he squirmed.

Bucky Barnes. Enhanced, lethal, super soldier—struggling beneath someone half his size, his hands gripping your thighs like they were his last anchor.

But then… you felt it.

The shift.

Not in your hold—but in him.

The soft gasp. The tension in his core. And most telling of all—the tent in his sweatpants, unmistakable now, thick and straining against the fabric.

You blinked once. Then again. That was—real. That wasn’t a trick of the light or an accident. He was hard. From this. From you. From your thighs choking him out.

Your pulse kicked, heat rising between your legs so fast it almost scared you.

What the hell did that mean?

Your eyes widened. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You immediately released him, your thighs unlocking from around his neck as you scrambled backward, breath caught somewhere between surprise and disbelief.

Your own core throbbed with something dangerously close to need. Jesus. You weren’t supposed to be this turned on either.

“You were… turned on?” you said, eyes wide.

Bucky sat up slowly, pushing himself up with one arm and dragging in a shaky breath. “I mean…” he grinned, shoulders rising in a light shrug. “In my defense… that was insanely hot.”

The two of you sat there on the training mat, breathing hard and sweat-slicked—Bucky still in his grey tank top, clinging to his chest, and black sweatpants stretched tightly around the very visible tent in his lap. You sat across from him, legs bent at the knees, your black cropped tank clinging to your ribcage, dark grey shorts riding up slightly from the scuffle, the compression layer beneath hugging every curve. The heat in the room wasn’t just from training anymore.

He looked at you with that crooked smirk—flushed, messed-up hair, lips a little parted.

“Since you’re so freaking dangerously hot,” he said, voice rough, hungry, “you wanna stop and make out for a while?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that slipped past your lips. “I know it won’t be just making out.”

That was all the invitation he needed.

Before you could blink, Bucky lunged forward from his seated position, hands sliding over your waist as he pulled you into his lap, lips crashing onto yours in a kiss that was messy and deep and laced with fire. You felt his fingers dig into the waistband of your shorts like he needed to feel your skin underneath, like he wanted to pull you into his body and never let go.

But you were quick—quicker than he expected.

Instead of letting him take the lead, you shifted in his lap and slowly traced your palm up the curve of his throat. You kissed him again—once, softer—then broke it, letting your lips trail downward.

Hot, wet kisses down his jaw.

Along the side of his neck.

You lingered there, bit down lightly until he gasped, hips twitching under you.

Your fingers pressed firm under his jaw, thumb settling over his pulse.

You squeezed—not tight, but enough to control his next breath. Enough to make his pupils blow wide, mouth part in a gasp.

The little sound he made? Guttural. Like his soul left his body and came crawling to your feet.

A soft, broken whimper spilled from his lips as his eyes fluttered open, blown wide and dark. His hands stayed on your waist, but he didn’t fight you. Didn’t move. Just let you hold him like that.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, easing your grip, watching his pupils dilate. “You really like that, don’t you?”

He was panting now, sweat rolling down the line of his throat.

“I think I found God,” he rasped. “And she’s sitting on my lap in tight shorts and telling me what to do.”

You laughed, releasing his throat, and watched how he sagged slightly—boneless beneath you, like just your hand alone had melted his brain. The tent in his pants was aching now, nearly damp with how hard he was.

“You’re a mess already,” you teased, dragging your fingers along the waistband of his sweats. “That hard just from a little pressure?”

“Fuck, yes,” he moaned. “I want more. Please. Do it again—tie me down, ride me, I don’t care. Just don’t stop leading, baby. Don’t stop.”

His hips bucked lightly, almost involuntarily.

“I’ll be good. Just tell me how you want me.”

You tilted your head, studying the way he trembled beneath you.

“If we do this, I’m in charge.”

“God, yes,” he groaned. “Please. I’ll do anything.”

Your lips curled slowly, dangerously.

You leaned in close, lips just by his ear. “Good boy.”

His whole body shuddered like you’d short-circuited something in his spine.

—

Still beneath you, Bucky was panting—his chest rising fast, eyes fluttering. His breath caught in his throat like it didn’t know whether to come out as a moan or a prayer. You didn’t even have to squeeze again. The memory of your hand, of being caught between your thighs… it lingered in his body like want.

Your fingers dragged down his chest, nails lightly scraping over the damp grey fabric of his tank top. You felt the way his abs tensed beneath it—hard muscle twitching, struggling to stay still. He liked this. Not just the contact. The helplessness. The rush of blood and denial of air. The flutter of lightheadedness that made him feel pinned in more ways than just physically.

“Take this off,” you said, voice low but firm.

Not a suggestion.

He obeyed immediately—yanking the tank over his head with a grunt, breath shaky as he tossed it aside. You pushed him gently onto his back again, straddling him. His chest was bare now, sweat beading down the line of his collarbone, rising and falling in shallow bursts. Still catching up from earlier. Still winded. Still needing.

You kissed his jaw, then leaned in to whisper.

“How’s your breathing, baby?”

“Fast,” he rasped.

“You like that?”

“God, yeah.”

You brushed a finger under his chin.

“Then let’s play with that.”

He groaned—already pliant.

You leaned to the side, reaching toward the pile of your gear at the edge of the mat. It was normal. You always brought towels and robes to shower after training. But today, your fingers curled around the soft cotton belt hanging from your robe—and it wasn’t going anywhere near your waist.

You shifted back over him, lips brushing his ear again.

“Hands behind your head.”

He laced his fingers together as instructed, arms flexing above his head. You wrapped the belt around his wrists—not tight, not enough to hurt, but firm enough to hold. Firm enough to remind him that he couldn’t move unless you let him.

You pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat. Felt the way his pulse jumped under your lips.

“You’re not going anywhere,” you murmured. “Not until I’ve bled every breath from your lungs.”

A sharp inhale. A groan. His cock twitched beneath you.

Your fingers slid down his chest, over the glistening trail of sweat beneath his pecs. You traced the V of his abs until you reached the waistband of his pants—and dipped your hand in.

Just your fingertips.

Just enough to tease the hot, throbbing length of him.

He gasped.

You wrapped your hand around him fully, stroking once—slow and tight, squeezing just enough to make him bite back a sound. Then again. Then harder.

“Fuck—” he hissed.

“You gonna come already?” you whispered. “That easy, baby?”

“N-No—”

“Didn’t think so.”

You dragged your hand out of his sweats and then—slowly, deliberately—peeled them down. His hips twitched, lifting just enough to help you. You tugged the fabric past his thighs and off completely, letting them fall somewhere on the mat behind you.

His cock sprang free—thick, flushed, leaking at the tip. Vulnerable. Needy.

You hummed in approval.

“There’s my good boy,” you whispered, wrapping your hand around him again. “So fucking eager to be used.”

You tightened your grip a fraction more. Your hand moved so slowly it was like punishment—each stroke heavy and torturously controlled. His cock twitched, leaking over your knuckles.

Then you stopped.

He let out a low, strangled whine.

“Tsk,” you murmured, brushing your lips across his ear. “You’re dripping like a slut and I’ve barely touched you. Naughty, naughty boy.”

You climbed off his lap slowly, heat dragging over his cock as you moved. He was breathless now, sweat shining down his abs, muscles tense under the strain of self-control. His hands twitched above his head—tied, compliant, wrecked.

You stood, peeled down your shorts and leggings together, slow and sensual, revealing inch by inch of bare skin. Then your panties—completely soaked. Translucent with arousal.

He groaned at the sight.

“Open.”

He obeyed. Of course he did.

You shoved the soaked panties into his mouth, holding them there with a slow, deliberate hand on his jaw.

“You don’t need your mouth to beg anymore,” you murmured. “Your cock does all the talking.”

You knelt again, nudging his legs wider.

Then licked a stripe up the underside of his cock—slow, firm, possessive.

His whole body twitched.

“God, you taste desperate,” you growled. “Every drop of you says please, mistress, use me.”

You climbed back onto his lap, deliberately grinding your slick cunt along his shaft, letting it slide through your folds. He bucked beneath you—barely—his hips stuttering with need.

But your hand shot to his throat.

You didn’t choke. Not fully. But your fingers pressed gently at the sides, just enough to hold him still, to remind him what you owned.

His moan was muffled around your panties, his eyes nearly rolling back.

You squeezed just a little more, then released.

“You don’t come until I say so,” you whispered. “Or I’ll tie your cock up instead and make you watch me come without ever letting you feel it.”

He whimpered. Squirmed. His cock throbbed beneath you.

You leaned back, letting your slick folds rub over him again, never letting him inside. Then you stopped. Watched his face twitch with denial.

“Beg,” you said. “Beg me to use you.”

He groaned around the panties, words distorted—but you heard it anyway.

“Mmm—mmph—use me—please—ride me—please—”

You yanked the panties from his mouth and tossed them aside.

“Tell me who owns this cock.”

“You. Fuck—you, baby—it’s yours, all yours—”

“You’ll wait.”

“Please—”

You finally sank down on him—slow. Inch by inch. His cock stretched you open so perfectly it stole your breath, and his back arched, every muscle flexing like you’d lit him on fire.

You bottomed out and held him there.

No motion.

Just heat.

Just breathlessness.

“You’ll sit there and take it,” you whispered, tightening your thighs around his hips. “You’ll let me ride you when I’m ready. And when I say come…”

You leaned closer.

“You better fall apart for me.”

—

His whole body shuddered like you’d short-circuited something in his spine.

Still beneath you, Bucky was panting—chest rising fast, lips parted. His breath caught in his throat like it didn’t know whether to come out as a moan or a prayer. You didn’t even have to squeeze him again. The memory of your thighs around his neck lingered in his body like electricity, like want.

You trailed your fingers down his sweat-slick chest, nails lightly dragging across bare skin, and felt how his abs tensed beneath it—coiled, twitching, like he was aching for more. Not just for touch—but for restraint. For that strange, dizzy, breathless sensation he wasn’t supposed to like. But craved anyway.

“You breathing okay, baby?” you murmured, voice low against his throat.

“Fast,” he rasped. “But so good.”

“Good,” you purred. “Let’s play with that.”

You crawled higher over him again—knees planting on either side of his shoulders, fingers threading into his hair to keep him still.

“You’re gonna stay right here,” you whispered, “while I put you back where you clearly want to be.”

You locked your thighs around his head—just like before—but this time, you were bare.

Your soaked cunt hovered just above his parted lips, flushed and dripping. Bucky’s eyes were already glassy as he looked up at you, chest rising faster beneath you.

You lowered yourself slowly, carefully, until your folds just barely dragged across his mouth.

Moan.

The sound that escaped him was pure sin—low, muffled, vibrating into your cunt. Slick smeared across his lips and chin as you rolled forward slightly, letting a single drop fall into his mouth. His tongue twitched.

You immediately stopped.

And smiled.

“Did I say you could taste?”

He whimpered beneath you, the sound desperate, pleading. You lifted your hips an inch and slapped the inside of his thigh—sharp, quick, close to his balls.

He gasped, hips jerking—but not from pain. No. That twitch was hunger. He liked it.

“Naughty,” you tsked, letting your voice fall into something calm and deadly sweet. “Trying to sneak a lick?”

You rewarded him with another slow grind—slick folds dragging wetly across his mouth and stubble. His face was slick with you now. His nose pressed right into your clit. He was gasping, lips open, unable to taste fully, unable to move.

Still under your control.

Still breathless.

Still starving.

“Look at you,” you murmured, tightening your grip in his hair. “Completely ruined. And I haven’t even let you come. Haven’t even let you taste.”

He whimpered again. You ground down, just once, slow and steady, enough to smear even more slick over his skin.

Then pulled away again.

He groaned helplessly, tongue wet and eager—but you gave him nothing.

“You don’t get to steal,” you said. “You want something?”

You dragged one finger through your folds, soaked and swollen, then tapped it gently against his lips.

“You ask.”

He moaned as your slick touched his tongue. His cock twitched, aching against his stomach.

“You want to taste me, soldier?”

“Yes—fuck, please—please, baby—I need it—I’ll be good—let me—please—”

You grabbed his hair again, holding him steady.

“No licking. No sucking. You just lie there,” you whispered, voice thick and slow. “And take it like the good little pillow prince you are.”

Then you ground down again.

This time slowly. Relentlessly.

You fucked his face in slow, teasing drags of your hips—your thighs flexing around his head, your slick dripping into his mouth with every pass. His tongue wasn’t allowed to move. You made sure of it.

He whimpered every time you pulled away. Every breath was shallow now. His lungs worked harder. His cock throbbed untouched.

“You like this?” you asked. “Being trapped between my thighs? Breathing in nothing but pussy?”

He twitched.

“So close to heaven,” you whispered, “and still not allowed to worship it.”

He tried to sneak a lick again.

You pulled away.

“I said still.”

He froze.

Didn’t twitch this time.

“Good boy.”

You hovered above him, thighs caging his flushed face, until you finally—finally—whispered low and molten:

“You’ve been good.”

“Please,” he rasped. “Please let me—I’ll be so good—need to taste you—”

You smiled.

And this time, when you sank down fully, there was no resistance. No teasing.

Just reward.

“Then go ahead,” you whispered. “Lick me. Show me what that perfect mouth can do.”

And god, he did.

Bucky groaned into you like your taste had saved him. His hands stayed where you left them—bound, obedient. He didn’t grab you. Didn’t flip you over. He obeyed.

His tongue moved with skill and reverence—flicking and curling, pressing deeper, desperate to make you come. The heat of his mouth was overwhelming, but it was the coarse scrape of his stubble that lit your nerves on fire.

The contrast—soft tongue, rough jawline—sent sparks straight through you.

Every drag of his mouth felt like being scorched and soothed all at once. His nose bumped your clit just right as your hips moved, slick covering his face. The more you rode, the deeper he moaned.

Your thighs were trembling now.

“Fuck—Bucky—just like that—don’t stop—”

You came hard—shaking, grinding into his mouth as your orgasm tore through you, your muscles clenching, your thighs squeezing tight around his head. You didn’t hold back. You gave him all of it. Your cries. Your slick. Your whole body.

When you came down, breathless and glowing, you rocked your hips back slightly, letting him breathe again. His face was soaked, lips swollen. His stubble was wet, glistening with you.

You looked down at him, completely wrecked, and laughed softly.

“Goddamn,” you breathed, brushing sweat-damp hair from your temple. “You really just let me do that to you…”

You leaned down, voice soft but teasing against his ear:

“Can’t believe you’re letting me stay in control today.”

Bucky—flat on his back, cock untouched, face drenched in you—smiled, dazed and devoted.

“For you?” he rasped. “I could take this for eternity.”

—

You shifted off his face slowly, dragging your soaked heat across his mouth one last time before settling beside him on the mat. Your thighs were still trembling. Chest still rising and falling. The scent of sex clung to the air.

Bucky didn’t move.

Face glistening. Cock flushed, twitching against his abs. Wrecked didn’t even begin to describe him.

You reached out, brushed the damp strands of hair off his forehead. His eyes fluttered open—barely.

“You’re such a good boy,” you whispered, letting the words sink into his ruined, obedient brain. “So good I might get addicted to you like this.”

His cock jerked. Hard.

You smirked.

“Come on,” you murmured, brushing your fingers down the center of his sweat-slick chest. “Let’s take this somewhere we can really see the damage.”

You reached for the tie and undid the knot slowly, trailing kisses down his chest as you helped him up.

He followed without question, still breathless, still dazed. You led him to the long padded bench near the mirrored wall of the sparring room—intended for cooldowns, but this afternoon? It was a throne. A stage. A place to be displayed.

“Sit back,” you said. “Arms behind you.”

He obeyed, dropping onto the bench. Shoulders against the angled padding. Legs spread. Cock hard, flushed, slicked with precum and the ghost of your mouth. His chest rose and fell in shallow gasps as he positioned his wrists at the small of his back.

You reached for the same robe belt you’d used before and tied him off again—firm this time, low at his spine. A handcuffed restraint.

“You’re not grabbing me unless I say so,” you reminded, voice low against his ear.

“I know,” he panted. “I won’t. Promise.”

You climbed onto his lap—reverse—your back to his chest, your thighs straddling his, both of your bodies now reflected in the full-length mirror ahead.

You spread your legs a little wider. Let your soaked cunt hover just above his cock.

“Look,” you whispered. “Look at how fucked out you are. Face still wet from me.”

He moaned—soft, overwhelmed—and you reached between your legs to stroke his cock, teasing the flushed head through your folds.

“Please,” he whispered, broken already. “Please ride me.”

You paused. Let your cunt hover, slick just barely kissing the tip of him.

“You want to feel useful again?” you asked. “Wanna be good for me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he breathed.

You turned your head slightly, catching the way his cheeks flushed deeper at the title.

“I remember how quiet you were with my panties shoved in your mouth,” you murmured. “All that strength, and you still let me silence you.”

A whimper escaped him—high, needful.

“I still have them, you know,” you added, reaching to the side where you’d carelessly tossed them earlier. They were crumpled now. Damp. Twisted and glistening from your slick.

You looked at him through the mirror.

“Open.”

He obeyed.

You shoved them back into his mouth—slow, sensual, like you were crowning him in devotion. The cotton disappeared between his lips.

“Now you can be good and quiet for me again.”

You finally sank down onto him.

Slow.

Tight.

Deliberate.

His cock filled you perfectly, forcing a moan from your throat as you seated yourself fully in his lap. Your reflection said it all—your spine arched, your slick glistening around the base of his cock, your thighs trembling slightly from overstimulation, and him?

Head tipped back. Arms straining behind him. Panties in his mouth. And his eyes locked on your body like he couldn’t look away if he tried.

You stayed still. Just like before.

“You want me to ride you, soldier?” you asked, voice honeyed. “Want me to use your cock like the good little fucktoy you are?”

He groaned behind the soaked fabric.

But then—you felt it.

His hips twitching, restrained. The slight pull at the knot behind his back. He was trembling again.

You turned your head just enough to look at him over your shoulder.

He was trying to speak.

So you tugged the panties gently out of his mouth, slick with spit and heat.

“Say it,” you murmured.

His voice cracked.

“Did I—did I do good?” he asked, almost whispering. “Please… I need to hear it. Need to know I was good for you. That I made you feel good. Please, ma’am.”

Oh, fuck.

Your cunt clenched tight around him. The desperation in his voice. The vulnerability. The fact that this super soldier—this goddamn wall of a man—was begging for praise from the woman who just rode his face into ruin.

You leaned back against his chest, fingers cradling his jaw gently as you made him look at the mirror.

“Look at you,” you whispered. “Face still covered in me. Body tied down. Cock aching. All because you let me have every inch of you.”

He moaned—soft, shattered.

“You were perfect, baby,” you said, hips starting to rock again, slow and firm. “You made me feel so fucking good. Let me take what I needed. You stayed right where I told you. You didn’t even try to flip us.”

His breath hitched.

“You’re such a good boy, James. You ruin me.”

A deep, trembling sound left his chest—almost a sob of relief.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you, ma’am.”

And you smiled—because he meant it.

You started to ride in earnest now—hips moving smooth and slow, your slick pulling wet sounds from where your bodies met. His cock pulsed deeper inside you with every grind, and his voice was wrecked when he breathed:

“God, you look so good. So perfect taking me like this—please don’t stop—please use me—”

You locked eyes in the mirror.

“Keep talking, baby,” you whispered. “You praise me, I’ll keep fucking you.”

—

His breath stuttered behind you, chest heaving like his lungs were working overtime just to keep up. Your soaked cunt gripped him so tight, pulsing around every inch of his cock—and he couldn’t stop twitching inside you.

But you didn’t move.

You just sat there—perched on him like a throne—making him look in the mirror. Making him see you. The way your curves framed his lap. How your spine arched in perfect, devastating rhythm. The slick dripping down his thighs. His cock, buried so deep in your cunt it was obscene.

“I said,” you repeated, calm and low, “worship me.”

He whimpered. Actually whimpered.

Then swallowed hard, voice cracking.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he rasped. “Look at you. Look how good you look on me, baby. I’ve never—never seen anything like it.”

“I love when you ride me. I love how you hold me down, like I’m yours. I love—fuck—I love how strong you are. How you make me feel like I’m nothing but yours to play with.”

“I never thought I’d like being restrained again. Thought it’d fuck me up forever. But this—” his breath shuddered again, eyes flicking to where your cunt was stretched around his cock. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else. I want it to be you. Always. Want to come for you, please—just you.”

You clenched around him.

Hard.

“That’s more like it,” you murmured. “Now shut up and take it.”

And then you moved.

You started slow—rolling your hips in wide, deliberate circles, letting every inch of your pussy stroke over his cock like velvet. The wet sounds echoed off the mirror. His head dropped back with a strangled groan, fists clenching behind him against the tie.

“You watching, baby?” you teased, grinding down harder. “See how pretty I look? Bouncing on your cock like it belongs to me?”

“Fuck—yes—ma’am,” he choked. “You’re so fucking gorgeous—I can’t—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” you snapped, slamming down harder. “You’ll take it like the good boy you are.”

Your rhythm sharpened—pace fast and punishing now, wet skin slapping loud against muscle as you bounced in his lap. His cock drove deep, again and again, dragging moans from both of you.

He pulled tight against the restraints—but didn’t fight them.

Didn’t even try.

You reached back, grabbed a fistful of his damp hair, and yanked his head upright.

“Eyes on me,” you growled. “Watch how I break you.”

He whimpered like it hurt to obey—and kept his eyes wide, locked on the mirror.

You fucked him harder.

Riding. Grinding. Letting your ass smack into his thighs with every thrust. His cock hit that perfect spot again and again, your own climax building fast as your slick poured down both of you.

“Please,” he gasped. “Please let me come—I can’t—I’m so close, I can’t hold it—baby, please—”

“Beg for it.”

“Please,” he sobbed. “Let me fill you—please let me come in your pussy—I need to—need to come inside you—fuck, I’ll be so good, just let me—please—”

You slammed down one final time and froze.

“Now.”

His scream tore out of him like a live wire. His body seized, twitching beneath you as his cock jerked and pulsed, thick spurts of cum filling you deep, so deep, like he’d been saving it for hours. His back arched, legs trembling under your thighs. He was shaking—completely fucked out.

And you were right behind him.

“Fuck—fuck—Bucky—” you moaned, body collapsing forward slightly as your own orgasm hit hard. Your cunt squeezed him so tight you felt every last pulse of him. Your vision blurred, hips trembling through the waves of pleasure until you collapsed against his chest, both of you breathless.

You stayed like that.

Panting.

Your heat still wrapped tight around his cock.

His forehead pressed against your back. Hair damp. Breathing ragged.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered hoarsely. “You… you ruined me.”

You turned your head, kissed the corner of his jaw, and smirked.p

“You begged me to.”

He let out a soft, delirious laugh.

“I did. I’d do it again. You—” his breath caught. “You made me feel so fucking safe.”

You reached behind, loosening the tie at his wrists gently, brushing his forearms as they slowly relaxed from the strain.

“You were perfect, baby,” you whispered. “Obedient. Beautiful. Ruined just the way I like you.”

His lips pressed to your shoulder, soft and warm. Then a quiet, cheeky hum.

“You think next time,” he murmured, “you’ll stuff those panties back in my mouth and fuck me even harder?”

You laughed, breathless.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you purred, glancing at your soaked reflection in the mirror.

“You haven’t seen hard yet.”

—

Your breath was still slowing as you leaned backward, fingers working gently at the robe tie knotted around Bucky’s wrists. The fabric had left soft red lines against his skin—proof of how tightly he’d held back for you.

He let his arms drop with a groan, slumping back like every muscle had given out.

You slipped off his lap, stretching your thighs with a quiet hiss, and bent to kiss the side of his head.

“Still breathing?”

“Barely,” he rasped. His voice was cracked, all gravel. “Pretty sure you broke my spine in five places.”

You grinned. “But did you die?”

That made him laugh—a soft, ruined sound that cracked open into something real and warm. His head lolled back against the bench, sweat dampening the strands of hair clinging to his neck. His chest rose and fell in slow waves. His cock, spent and glossy, gave a lazy twitch between his legs.

“I can’t believe I liked that,” he muttered to no one in particular. “All of it. Being tied up. Letting you do whatever you wanted. Being used.”

You turned your head, eyes soft.

“You didn’t just like it, Buck. You begged for it.”

A lazy smirk crept onto his lips. “Can you blame me?”

You leaned down and kissed him again—this time slower. Gentle. A kiss that tasted like sweat, slick, and trust. Your fingers found his jaw, tracing along the rough edge of his stubble, then drifted down to cup his throat—not tight, just resting there, tender.

“After everything you’ve been through,” you whispered against his lips, “you deserve to feel safe in someone’s hands.”

You kissed his neck.

“And baby… these hands?”

Another kiss, this one just below his ear.

“These hands made you come so hard, I think you blacked out.”

He groaned and threw both hands over his face like he was trying to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks. But he was smiling. Laughing, even.

“You’re the greatest damn thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I know,” you teased, nudging his thigh with your knee. “And now your slutty little cock knows it too.”

“Jesus Christ,” he wheezed.

“Say thank you.”

He peeked out from behind his hands, eyes sparkling, then grinned like a man who’d just sold his soul and had zero regrets.

“Thank you, my queen,” he said solemnly. “May your thighs crush me again sometime soon.”

You snorted, climbing up onto the bench and curling beside him. The two of you lay there tangled in sweat and afterglow, your head on his shoulder, his arm lazily wrapping around your back.

The silence was warm.

The stillness earned.

And then he murmured, lips brushing your hair:

“For the record? You can ruin me like that anytime.”

You smiled, eyes fluttering closed.

“I plan to.”

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙖𝙬𝙤𝙤𝙜𝙖𝙨! ♡︎

characters: sub!big men x gn!dom!reader

warnings: cock/strap/dick traditions, boob fucking, cumming on face, body, feminization, size difference, mentions of pregnancy, dumbification, lactation, feminine language used for the characters (princess, womb, maiden etc so pls tread with caution if that ain’t ur thing), read with optional bias character in mind

notes: nobu finally posting smt??????? nobu actually writing for once???????????? also this is just my obsession with boobs talking. dividers from cafekitsune. manga color tint by me

big men! with big chests that gets mistaken or joked of it being boobs by close friends and colleagues, who had gotten used to it. who at first used to get all blushy blushy but nowadays just shrugs it off with a disgruntled huff of “knock it off”

big men! who didn’t really see much problem when you started to favor their chest more, eventually opting to use them as a pillow rather than use your actual pillow since it gives them the advantage of falling asleep with you on top of them and they got to cuddle with you all night. a win-win situation in his book, as he could be quite clingy when behind closed doors. who laughs sometimes at the silliness of you smothering your face in between his chests, finding your obsession with his pecs to be endearing

big men! who didn’t realize how sensitive their chest could be until you decide to show it to them. squeezing, fondling the large muscles, tweaking his cute nipples occasionally and making him jolt in place with a cute blush covering his ears and cheeks. so adorable, like a meager bunny when he was nearly twice your size and could probably crush a grown man’s skull in with their hand

big men! who get so worked up over the dirty words you whisper when you pinch his hardened nipples, your words of “i could make your chest lactate”, “your boobs feel so heavy, darling”, “such a nice big tits you have” making him whine in the back of his throat, shaking his head as he shakily denies that “t-they’re not b-boobs… y-you nngh know that…”

big men! who gets manhandled by your smaller frame to lay on their backs, a cute surprised “eengk!” escaping his swollen lips as he looks up at you, pushing his tight shirt up until they’re resting over his chest, showing the big muscles you love so much. who cutely whine and wriggle in place under you as your fingers bully his hardened buds, pinching at the cute pinks, tugging on them before letting go, a noise of awe leaving your lips at the way his chest fucking jiggles while your bf could only jolt with words of “c-cruel… you’re so cruel to me. pu-unhh puppYAGH!”

big men! who get fucked stupid, brain churning into a mush by only having his nipples played with. pinched, tugged, even bitten till your fangs and teeth leaves a round mark closed around his areola that he slurs is too deep, acting like he is getting his tight hole spread open and fucked by your cock. whose face is so cutely flushed, eyes dazed over as he breathes heavily of “wan’ moowr.. ungh h-haah… annh♡︎ m-more please? touch me.. to-ouch me moore”

big men! who act like a sweet virgin who never got himself fucked by you when you kick off your pants, hardened cock already springing out and slapping against his cute boobs. who stare at your oozing tip with gaping mouth, letting out stuttered questions of “w-what… whaddaya doin’? h-hunny, noouw… no, don’t—♡︎!” before squealing when you squeeze his chest together, rutting your strap in between them

big men! who act like they have never seen your cock, never tasted it or even deep throated it before, acting like he never once took your dildo into his pretty hole until his legs shook as you fuck his boobs, moaning loudly like the cute bunny he is. who opens his mouth, jaw shaking as fat tears collect in his big doe eyes, messily sucking the tip, getting drunk on the taste of your pre already when you politely ask him to suck you off

big men! whose hands shakily grasp your ass, unintentionally helping you fuck their tits even more, pushing your strap even deeper inside his mouth as if he wanted you to just let go of their boobs and just fuck their throat instead. who lets out a cute confused noise, mouth full of your cock, batting his lashes up at you like the pretty little thing he is when you move his trembling hands to hold his boobs together instead of your ass. who tries to speak words of not knowing how to do it, still mouthful, as you give a tug to his cute bitten nipple, making him squeak

big men! who meagerly tries to fuck your cock in between his mounds, choking on your tip when you tilt his head down just enough so he could also suck you off, acting as if you just shoved your entire strap down his throat and was keeping it there, snuggly shutting him up. a whiny bf whose tears finally fall when you cum into his hot mouth, dropping of your cock when you came as if he was never drunk on the taste of your seeds before, letting some of it shoot over his face and hair instead. a hunky beast of a man, sniffling like a baby when he notices the mess you made of him, who dares to give you a half assed glare as if you forced him to make a mess

big men! who gets addicted to boob fucking after that one time thing, constantly thinking back on the feeling of squishing his own chest together to fuck your dick for you. whose hands finds themselves wandering to his pecs more often, pushing them together and moving them in soft round circles as if you would suddenly appear and fill the empty space between his boobs. who finds himself messing with his nipples over the tight fit of his shirt, finding himself to be perverted as he gets turned on by just fondling with his chest

big men! who, unable to keep teasing themselves anymore, start to touch themselves when you’re away on work or whatever. more specifically, their chests. rutting his clothed, hardened cock against a pillow that is squished between his thighs, tweaking at his nipples and tugging on them — just like how you do it — before letting go with a whimper. it hurt, but it also felt so good, he could feel his precum already wetting his boxers

big men! who finds out that his constant arousal by his nipples was a bad idea, as now every time he wears a tight shirt or compression vest, his nipples are rubbed and he finds himself getting horny. who, in desperation, decides to tenderly tape the cute pink nubs with a band aid, pouting to himself about how you were slowly but surely turning him into a perv

big men! who now finds it much easier to use his boobs to fuck you, quick to drop down to their knees in front of your clothed crotch, kissing the hidden thighs and inhaling at your natural scent with a love stricken look in their eyes. a cute, desperate bf who kisses your strap, rubbing you with his hands to try and get you hard as quick as possible. who hook their shirt over their chest, intentionally pushing his boobs together with his hands on his knees, creating the effect of round shaped breasts

big men! who impatiently watches until your cock is free, taking it into his mouth the moment you slide down your undergarments, suckling at the head just like how you enjoy it. who push you down to sit, so he could climb onto your lap, pushing his chest together so he could fuck your strap with his boobs, determined that now he had learned a good technique to make you feel good. who is quick to take the head of your dildo into his mouth, swiping the gathered pre with a pleased hum, looking up at your through his thick lashes with a drunken giggle before pulling away to spit on your hard on

big men! who drunkenly take the head of your strap into their hot mouth, suckling away at the delicious precum, unafraid to slobber all over your cock and his chest as he slowly moves the big muscles in a circular motion. who giggles in delight at your words of praise and groans, the tip of your cock that is still in his mouth vibrating with his drunk laughter. beefy bf who eagerly lap away at your cock head, slurping at the mess he made of his own drool and your precum before taking it back into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks for you. only for you♡︎

big men! who pulls away again when you cum, watching with a cute mix of fascination and lewd anticipation as your hot cum shoots all over his jaws and chest, painting his skin in white. massaging your balls and stroking you through it all, opening his mouth slack as he stares up at you with hazed eyes, letting the last few drops shoot into his awaiting tongue, licking at his full lips with a pleasured hum. the salty, slightly sweet taste, a familiar one that he had gotten drunk on within the first round

big men! who straddle your lap, rubbing your wet strap on the round curve of his ass with a giddy giggle, feeling how the slippery wet tip doesn’t enter his tight hole without helping hands. finally, grasping at your dick with his hand, giving it a few strokes before pressing the tip against his entrance. your sweet bf who decide to be bold, sinking down onto your cock with one swift movement, a choked sob getting stuck in his throat at the sudden feeling of being “f-fughkk♥︎ a-aah haah mnngh♡︎ shooo fu-ull.. gut’s so ffuul of m-my [name]♥︎”

big men! who ride your dick all night, even as his muscles strain and his brain gets fucked into a stupid mush, slurring words of love and lust, saying all sorts of lewd things through his cum and drool covered pink lips as the kissable looking pair of muscles turn into a cute drunken smile. beefy big bf whose tits bounce all the while, their cute jiggles every time they sink down into your dick hypnotizing you to only focus on them. an adorable squeal escaping him as you tear away the band aids from his nipples, the stimulated nubs all hard and blush red as they greet you

big men! who squeeze their breast, forefinger and thumb squeezing around his nipple, as he grins at you with blown wide heart shaped eyes. “a-ain’t they cute…? dontcha wanna suck-unghk suck on them?” he asks, squishing his mound softly with a near delirious grin on his face. “come owwnn, don’t my [name] wanna taste my milk♡︎?”

big men! who lets out a pleased wet sob when you do give in, suckling, biting, squeezing at his jiggling boobs as he starts to bounce on your cock with a more fervent pace. who cries out at it being painful when you leave another teeth mark around his nub, one of his hands placed over his chest like one of the scared damsels in paintings. who slur out words of not being a damsel, of being a maiden, shaking his head as if he actually understood anything

big men! who gets their wombs filled with your cum for nth time that night, feeling his stomach start to bloat at the sheer amount he greedily took into his eager hole. fucked dumb bf who shakes his head at your words of getting off, refusing to lose the warmth in his stretched hole and filled stomach. who only notices when you pointed out, that his nipple was leaking, lactating a delicious white milk that dribbled down to his cum covered tummy. another drunk giggle follows, as he gets close to your ear to whisper a filthy slurred “now that i’m p-pregnant, my [name] better take responsibility♥︎”, having completely forgotten that he can’t get pregnant. but oh well, your beefy bf who is so adorable as he giddily speaks of carrying your young, rubbing at his belly with hearts swirling in his eyes, to the point you can’t bring yourself to correct him. only going slack on the couch with your sweet princess still on your lap

⇨ JOTUN LOKI, jiyan, diluc, alhaitham, CAPITANO, zhongli/rex lapis form, itto, wriothesley, JUNG YUAN, YINGXING, argenti, GALLAGHER, gepard, yhan, yuanwu, GLORFINDEL, maedhros, elu thingol, finarfin, FINROD, logan, thor, DIAVOLO, beelzebub, anubis (ennead), gyomei, YORIICHI, messmer the impaler + whoever you like!

[d4nshyp3r]

it’s not living if it’s not with you || bucky barnes one shot

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

summary: what happens if you ditch a party to smoke on a balcony with your best friend bucky barnes.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: MDNI!, porn without plot, smoking, drinking, a bit of swearing, p in v, unprotected sex, sub!bucky, softdom!reader, creampie, idiots in love

a/n: guys… i haven’t written anything since 2022 but this man is plaguing my mind i can’t do this anymore. anyways, i hope you enjoy!!

As you made your way to the elevator, you smoothed your dress down before hitting the up button. Tony was hosting his annual party commemorating the Battle with the Chitauri and additionally, the beginning of the Avengers. The tower was filled with handpicked reporters, chosen by their merit in journalism and how well they could make Tony look. Apart from that, anyone who had ever fought with the Avengers and knew them personally, socialites and politicians and other billionaires you couldn’t name.

The whole thing was a show for Tony and his friends; he always went all out but he made sure everyone had a good time. Regardless, you tend to feel overwhelmed in large and loud crowds so it was understandable that you had made your way downstairs to smoke on the balcony. You were secluded enough that no one could find you, but still able to hear the music and chatter a few floors up, so it was the perfect spot to get lost in for a few minutes.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened, revealing a concerned pair of steel blue eyes. Smiling softly you joined him,  the comfortable silence between you falling easily. James Buchanan Barnes, former Russian assassin, and one of your closest friends though you wouldn’t admit it to anyone. Truth is, you knew you were one of the few people he was close to and chose to trust, so that must mean he considers you his friend, right? Still, the topic of your friendship with him was one you avoided commenting on with everyone, because you couldn’t talk about him without revealing how in love with him you were. 

You weren’t embarrassed, but it was shameful how speechless he could make you, a grown woman, just by smiling and saying good morning. You hated feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush, but you couldn’t stop thinking about him if you tried; and you’ve tried. 

Trying to ignore the slight blush creeping up your cheeks by how good he looked, you turn to the mirror and pretend to fix your hair and make sure the straps of your dress were secured; already feeling too exposed as you caught his eyes roaming the open back your dress had. Thankfully he didn’t comment on it, choosing to start some light conversation for the short moments of silence you had.

“You know those things will kill you, right?” He glanced at you, sniffing slightly, noting the smell of cigarettes clinging to you. The light smile on his face telling you he was only half joking.

You slightly turned to him, leaning on the wall behind you, “Well, something has to eventually.” You both laughed lightly, remembering the countless missions and near death experiences you’ve shared. “Trust me, you’ll be begging for one as soon as you set a foot in there.”

“Oh, you know how all of Tony’s parties are, it can’t be that bad.” He stated, the doors opening and depriving you of answering and the sweet bubble you found yourself on with him. He was never one to be excited for parties or large gatherings, keeping to himself and his routine, but surprisingly he was very optimistic about any event that presented itself. 

The immediate roar of laughter and music and chatter filled the once quieter elevator. You look at him and catch his expression falter slightly, making you giggle to yourself. One should never underestimate Tony’s parties.

You stepped out before him, being pulled into a conversation between Bruce, Yelena and some woman shamelessly flirting with her. Not caring much what the topic of discussion was, you turned around to find Bucky, sad to discover he had already been pulled in the sea of overexcited party-goers.

A few hours had gone by and you still hadn’t found Bucky. To say you were disappointed was an understatement but you didn't make it that obvious, engaging in any conversation that emerged and inquiries from the reporters to keep you distracted. 

 You squeezed your way through the crowd and found yourself at the bar, thanking Tony for the endless supply of alcohol helping you get through the night. As you waved the bartender down and asked for the fourth refill, you felt someone sliding next to you.

“Sergeant Barnes, you seem to be enjoying yourself.” You said turning to him, noting the blush on his cheeks and the light smirk he couldn’t seem to shake. 

“Thor is to blame for that. He brought enough mead to share with the whole continent.” He commented, slightly leaning in. You had seen Bucky drunk probably a handful of times, since he usually chose to stay behind when the group went out. Still, it was an amusing sight.

You couldn’t help but notice how he mumbled more than usual and his eyes glistened a bit; along with the pink on his cheeks, the blue of his eyes seemed brighter than you had seen them before. The closeness and his unwavering gaze on you made your heartbeat pick up, your ears turning hot. 

You looked away trying to regain your composure, looking over at Thor entertaining Alexei and Peter with another one of his countless stories. The bartender brought your drink and as you turned back, you caught Bucky glancing at your back again. You take a sip of your drink, noting how he seemed to be enjoying the sight very much. You could use this to your advantage and play with him a little bit.

“So, what’s on your mind, Soldier?” You say as you set your drink down, slowly meeting his eyes and stepping a little closer. The alcohol was making you way more confident than usual, and he noticed yet didn’t comment on it. 

Instead, he copied you, stepping closer until your breaths almost became one, quickly glancing down as your tongue wet your lips. “Is that offer from earlier still on the table?”

Surprised, you only smirked before grabbing your drink and his hand, heading to the elevator once again.

The combination of the light breeze on the balcony and the smoke in your lungs soothed you immediately, although Bucky’s unrelenting gaze made you squirm in your seat.

“Told you so, by the way,” You say in hopes that some conversation might distract you from the way his half-lidded eyes would not leave you. “Admit it, I was right.”

His eyes trailed over to your lips as you took another hit, licking his own before replying. “Never in a million years, Doll.”

Choosing to ignore the way your heart sped up by the nickname rolling off his tongue like honey, you look away laughing, “Oh come on, your pride will still be intact. I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

He didn’t reply immediately, and now, in the silence, you noticed that he wasn’t entirely drunk, but the drinks had clearly affected him enough to loosen his mouth. 

“God, that dress is killing me.”

Your smile dropped, unsure how to respond, you only looked at him.

He took that as his sign to continue. “I mean, wearing that in front of a hundred-and-ten year old man is just cruel. Are you trying to kill me?” He didn’t laugh, no smile in sight; just pure and honest. His gaze held yours, the words spilling out of his mouth shocking you even more.

“Boldness suits you, Soldier. You should try it more often,” You tried regaining your composure, joining him in the dangerous yet exciting dance that emerged between you. In any other situation, your words would’ve failed you, and thanks to the alcohol coursing through your veins right now, you found the confidence to follow his lead.

He had always been reserved, even with you. Keeping to himself and his thoughts, only speaking when necessary or when he felt comfortable enough to add something with the group. So many times had you imagined what it would feel like to cross the line with your relationship; stepping into the dangerous waters of seduction and flirtation. The darkness enhanced your feelings, imagining what he would say, how he would say it and how his reaction would be to your approach. Yet in the countless daydreams and hopes you held, you would’ve never imagined him to be so direct, honest and shameless.

“What can I say? You bring out the worst in me.” He smirked, clearly seeing through the brave facade you put on trying not to crumble at his feet. He leaned in as he said this, not caring about the shameless way he stared at your lips.

That’s all it took for you to give in, not bothered if this ruined your friendship any longer. If you were sober, you would’ve given it more thought, surprised by this new side to him you were unfamiliar with. But that was not the case, so without letting another second pass, you closed the mere inches between you and pressed your lips to his.

He wasn’t taken aback, eagerly reciprocating your kiss. It wasn’t messy or rushed. He took his time, letting his cigarette fall on the table before taking your face in his hands. It was slow yet rough, as if years of waiting and uncertainty finally came to a tipping point. He kissed you like he needed the very air in your lungs to breathe, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you as close as physics would allow.

He slowly moved the two of you near the wall, pressing you gently against it as one hand moved to the back of your neck, guiding your movements. The other gripped at your waist, as if it was the only thing keeping him grounded. Small whimpers left your lips, becoming overwhelmed with how his arms engulfed you entirely. You were both breathless but refused to pull away, getting drunk off of the kiss.

He moaned lightly, pressing his hips into you as he grabbed one of your legs and wrapped it around his waist. Always a gentleman, he pulled away heaving and pleading at you with his eyes. “Please, darling. Please, I need you. I need you so bad.” His lips then moved to your neck as he continued begging, making you moan with every word that left his lips. “Please, please doll. Don’t do this to me. I can’t handle it any longer.”

You knew he hadn’t gone out with many women after he got out, but you never expected him to be this needy. It was a sight you could get used to, the way his voice got higher, the nonsensical rambling and his eyes completely glossed over. You were enraptured by him and didn’t think once for a second to turn down his requests. 

His head dipped down to your cleavage, his composure completely gone by now as he kissed his way down your chest. He was falling apart, acting like a starved man; the way his pants shook his whole body and his head fell, eyes closed and brows furrowed. You had seen him this way before but strictly after particularly taxing missions, never once had you imagined the sight of him being this affected just by being so close to your tits.

Your hands fell from his hair, trailing their way down his chest and stopping at his belt. His head snapped towards you, before he helped you undo it. He removed his suit jacket and threw it somewhere behind him before dropping to his knees in front of you. His hands trailed up the back of your legs, finding your panties and pulling them slowly down your thighs as he kissed his way up your inner thighs. The sight made your knees buckle, his eyes held pure adoration and devotion, as well as raw desire and hunger. 

Although you wanted to keep him there as long as possible, you were as desperate as him, needing to feel him inside of you immediately. You grabbed his chin with your hands, pulling him up. “Come here,” The simple command had him standing up, as if he would do anything you asked of him at the moment. “That can wait.”

You grabbed the hem of his pants, undoing the button and pushing down the zipper. You took it upon yourself to push his pants and underwear down, just enough that you could pull his cock out. It felt heavy in your hand, the tip so red it was almost purple and already leaking precum. He was surprisingly trimmed, something you wouldn’t expect from such an old fashioned man. The sheer size shocked you, but you were wet enough that it could just slip in easily.

He helped you by pulling your dress up, grabbing the fabric and keeping it tightly around your waist. You guided his cock towards your weeping pussy, teasing yourself with his tip as well as him. “C’mon Doll, you’re really trying to kill me. Please stop teasing me, you don’t know how long I’ve been holding back. Please darling, let me fuck you.”

Cutting off his rambling, you pushed him in, letting him finish the job and bottoming out. A throat-rattling gasp left your lips, making you throw your head back at the feeling. Not only was his cock impossibly thick, but you hadn’t fucked in a while and the last guy was certainly no comparison. He whimpered looking down at where your bodies met, groaning at how your pussy pulsed around him, making him leak more precum into your soppy hole.

After a few seconds, he started moving. The stretch burned in all the right ways, making you grip onto him for support. You tried not to be too loud, not caring about the party-goers upstairs, but at the neighbors who might still be awake. He was fighting his own battle. After so many years he was practically a virgin again, trying his best to make the moments last and not cum too early. The once highly trained soldier now at complete mercy for your cunt.

He took it slow at first which you appreciated, slowly building up the knot forming in your cores. The feeling of his heavy cock being strained by your pussy was enough to make you cum, but it only got heightened when he brought his fingers down to your clit, slow and precise circles making you pull him even closer.

Your breaths mingled together, sharing kisses here and there and unintelligible phrases about how good it felt. Neither of you could form a proper sentence, completely lost in the feeling and sharing the same breaths. His head went back to your neck, peppering kisses from time to time and a breathless so fucking tight every few thurst.

Your breaths shortened and your moans became louder, as his movements became sloppier and the circles he made on your clit became faster. You were both close and you knew it, both disappointed by how quickly it took you to come undone, yet it was unstoppable given how long you had both waited for this. “Are you gonna come for me, honey? You gonna fill up my cunt with your cum? Wanna make a mess for me?”

He was too busy trying to remember how to breathe, nodding as he mumbled in agreement, whimpering as you pulled his hair, taking his head away from your neck. You kissed his forehead, then his cheek and finally his lips, grabbing his cheeks with your hand and making him pout. His lips were pink and his face flushed, completely fucked out and willing to do whatever you asked.

You moaned loudly as your orgasm took over you, kissing him as he followed right after. His movements slowed down as your cunt milked him for every last drop of cum, making him squirm from oversensitivity. He slowly put your leg down and helped you put your panties back on, before tucking away his cock into his pants. 

You grabbed his face and hissed him, this time gentle and satisfied, completely spent out by the events. “Fuck, I really wanted to take my time with you and make it last.” He sounded defeated but he laughed lightly, pressing his forehead against yours.

You giggled before kissing his lips once again, “Don’t worry, there’ll be plenty of time for that.”

“God, you’re perfect.”

[thunderboltssasterisk]

no but John Walker who doesn’t even know what puppy play is, really. he doesn’t fantasize about leashes or collars, doesn’t think about how the words would sound coming out of your mouth, doesn’t expect to have such a reaction to hearing something as simple as “good boy”

John fucking into you one night, face buried in your neck, hiding his sounds against your shoulder. You decide you want to hear him so you grab him by the throat, just enough grip to guide his head up but his pupils are blown and he’s whining as he pushes himself more firmly into your hand. “Good boy,” would slip out automatically, “my good puppy.”

And just like that, you’ve unlocked a whole new side of John

[thecowboyfiles]

-> Yeah, yeah, I wrote another piss kink fic, I'm disgusting, sue me, I like my boys whiny and desperate <-

"You asked for this Robby, remember?"

"Yes, mommy, I asked for this," he answers obediently.

Robert had been your sub for quite awhile, but a few days ago, he had asked for something you hadn't done yet.

“I want you to be in charge,“

“In charge?” You frown, “in what way?” it wasn’t unusual for Robert to ask for things in a cryptic way like this. You always had to push a little harder to get some more information out of him.

“I want…” He’s still not looking at you, still not meeting your eyes. You know that he’s nervous you know that he thinks one of these days he’s going to ask for something that’s too much and you’re going to leave him, but you’ve told him over and over again that that’s not true. You nod your head, a gentle encouragement, but you don’t speak. You just wait for him gather up the courage. “I want you to tell me that I can’t go to the bathroom,“ he blurts out in a rush.

That’s how you got here. With you driving in wall-to-wall traffic and Rob sitting next to you in the passenger seat, hands shoved between his legs and squirming desperately. You may have planned this part out deliberately, you knew how bad the traffic gets at this time. It gave you the time to be able to take your eyes off the road and watch him.

He looked so beautiful, face and neck flushed, eyes fluttering and head tipped back. You watched the way his chest rose and fell with each heaving breath, then followed his arm down to where he had such a firm grasp on his cock through his clothes it looked painful.

"You know..." You start gently. "I don't think you need to hold yourself like that, good boys don't need help holding their pee. I think you should let go."

Robert whines, biting on his lower lip with his eyes squeezed shut. "I can't, I can't. I gotta go so bad, if I let go, I'll have an accident."

"Aw, that's not true, you wanna be a good boy, don't you baby? Let go for me, or next time I'll handcuff you to the headrest."

That only makes him whine and shake his head disobediently.

Watching him defy you instantly turns your face and voice hard. "Let Go Robert" You demand.

The bass in your voice seems to get through to him and he instantly lets go, revealing his pants with a golf ball sized wet patch on the front. You click your tongue, pouting mockingly at him. "Such a little baby, can't even old your bladder until we get home," Then, you smirk, "all those noises you're making, your mouth must be so dry,"

Just before the car in front of you starts to pull ahead again, you take the water bottle out of the cup holding and bring it to his chapped lips.

-> "complicated" by Avril Lavine was playing while I was writing this and I think that's hilarious 😂 I adore everyone who reads and reblogs, ❤ if you like this, please think about showing a little extra support. 🥰 <-

[kylopen]

In My Head

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Sunshine reader is always seen as sweet and innocent to the team, always happy to use her healing magic wherever possible. Bucky, touch starved and in love, discovers reader is not as innocent as she seems.

Word count: 8.2k words <3

Plus size reader safe! All body types are safe in this fic! Everyone loves Dom! Bucky I do too but good god I need whipped Bucky who will do anything for Reader. This is the longest piece I’ve written in so long! Enjoy and leave a note<3 I’m in my marvel era again so feel free to request anyone! I didn't proof read (i finished it at 1am)

Tags: There is a plot! (porn with plot lol) AFAB reader, The smut is pure FILTH tbh, Smut, Pining Bucky, no use of Y/N.

Smut warnings: Sub!Bucky, soft dom! Reader, use of ‘Good boy’, Bucky has a praise kink, pussy eating (lots of it), Needy/touch starved Bucky, Bucky has an Edward Cullen moment, Oral (female/reader receiving— THREE times hehe) penetration, Buck likes his hair pulled, Bucky dry humps, Reader squirts (third oral sequence so skip that part if you wish) needy creampie.

There were things in the modern world that baffled Bucky, Bubble tea, new terms for prejudice ending in 'phobia', babies with Ipads in their faces. And you. The first time he laid eyes on you, you gave him a blindingly sweet smile, and held your hand out for him to shake. When he didn't take it you didn't judge him or look at him funny, you smiled like you understood. From then on, you respected his boundaries and he began to feel safe. It made sense to him that someone like you had the power to help and heal others.

You’d always bring them things; vitamins, water, those weird orange flavoured things that dissolve in water, something a little sugary for a boost, with that sweet, innocent smile he'd grown to adore. He would never- could never admit that though, someone like him wasn't worthy of you. He could settle for some longing and pining instead.

Bucky is lounging on the sofa with Steve, some 50s flick playing that Steve had insisted on, something about a painter in Paris- he wasn't sure. And then, you walk in, your sweet voice drifting into his ear.

“An American in Paris, huh?” you asked, gently teasing as you moved closer to the sofa, catching sight of the movie they were watching.

Bucky shifted a little, his gaze flickering to you, then quickly back to the TV. He tried not to look at you too much when you were around, not because he didn’t want to, but because every time he did, it felt like something in his chest tightened. It certainly didn’t help that it was a hot day today, you’d opted for a cute pink and white sundress that stopped mid thigh.

“Yeah, Steve’s choice,” Bucky muttered, trying to sound casual, but his voice came out a little softer than he intended. He knew that you liked these kinds of old movies, so maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

Steve grinned from the other end of the couch, catching the subtle shift in Bucky’s tone, but not saying anything about it. Instead, he glanced up at you with a friendly smile.

“You a fan of the classics too?” Steve asked, gesturing for you to sit if you wanted to join them.

You walked over, the scent of your shampoo reaching Bucky’s senses. Vanilla and coconut, coincidentally his favourite fragrance, something that had changed not long after he’d met you… coincidentally of course, and the more you lingered around, the harder it became for him to focus on anything but you.

“Reminds me of my dad. Some are super sexist but I’m a sucker for Marilyn Monroe” you said, sitting down at the edge of the couch, right next to Bucky. Close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating off of you, but still with enough space to respect his boundaries. You always seemed to know exactly how to balance that, without even trying. It amazed him.

Bucky felt his pulse quicken as you sat beside him. You were so close. Too close. Not close enough.

He grunted in agreement with your statement, nodding, though his eyes stayed fixed on the screen. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to you—he just didn’t know how. What could he say that wouldn’t make him seem awkward or broken? Besides, talking might make him reveal just how badly he wanted to be near you, and he couldn’t afford that.

But then you spoke again, your voice soft and gentle, like you were speaking just to him. “How was training today?”

He cleared his throat, trying to push away the thoughts clouding his mind. “Same as always. Steve still hits like a truck.”

Steve laughed from the other side, “You’re the one with the metal arm, Buck.”

Bucky shot him a look, but there was no real bite to it. Just a distraction. He was grateful for it.

You laughed too, and that sound—it was like a melody that settled right under Bucky’s skin, making him feel warm in a way he hadn’t in a long time. He stole a glance at you again, just for a second, and you were looking right at him. That smile on your face, the one that had been seared into his memory from the moment you’d met.

“Let me guess,” you said, eyes twinkling, “you didn’t let him win this time either?”

Bucky’s lips twitched, almost into a smile, but he stopped himself. “Nope.”

“Good,” you replied, your voice soft again, almost as if you were relieved. “Can’t let Cap off easy.”

It was such a simple thing to say, but it hit Bucky harder than he’d expected. You cared. Not just in the way you handed out snacks and drinks after training or smiled when they passed by, but genuinely cared. For him. For Steve. And maybe, just maybe, that meant you’d be willing to see something more in him than he saw in himself.

The silence between you wasn’t awkward, but it was thick with unspoken words. Bucky could feel it. He wanted to reach out, say something—anything—but the words lodged themselves in his throat, like they always did when it came to you.

For a moment, Bucky let himself wonder what it would be like—if he could let himself believe he was worthy of you. Of someone so full of light and warmth, when all he felt was the shadows of his past.

But then the doubt crept back in, and he looked away again. He couldn’t let himself get too close. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could manage without giving too much away.

You didn’t push him, though. You never did. You just smiled again and settled into the couch beside him, watching the movie like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And for a fleeting moment, Bucky let himself pretend that it was.

The training room echoes with the sharp sound of fists hitting metal, the rhythmic thud of boots against the mat, and the occasional grunt of exertion. Bucky and Steve were sparring again; the same routine they'd run through countless times. It usually helped Bucky clear his mind, focus his energy on something physical, something he could control. But today, it was different.

“Come on, Buck, focus,” Steve says as he circles around, hands up and ready. His movements were fluid, precise. He was always like that—disciplined, unshakable. Bucky was too, usually. But not today.

His thoughts kept drifting, unbidden, back to you.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how close you had been on the couch last night, the way your voice had softened when you’d spoken to him, like you saw something in him that no one else did. That smile. It was haunting him in the best way.

As if to taunt him farther, his mind flashes with the image of you in your sundress, the way it swayed around the soft skin of your thighs.

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice cut through his reverie, but not fast enough.

Distracted, Bucky moves just a second too late. He swings wide, and Steve, quicker than ever, ducked under his arm and swept his legs out from under him. Before Bucky could react, he hit the mat hard, air leaving his lungs in a sharp gasp.

“Damn it,” Bucky growles, more at himself than at Steve. He stays on the floor for a moment, trying to shake the thoughts of you from his mind. He shouldn’t be getting distracted like this. Not during a sparring session. Not ever.

Steve stands over him, offering a hand, his brow furrowed in concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky grumbles, accepting the hand and letting Steve pull him back to his feet. His ribs ache from the fall, but it wasn’t anything serious. It was more the embarrassment that stung. Bucky didn’t like feeling off his game, and lately, thinking about you was doing just that.

“You weren’t focused,” Steve says, stepping back into position. It wasn’t a question.

Bucky wiped the sweat from his brow, shaking out his arms as if that could somehow reset his mind. “I’m fine. Let’s go again.”

Steve hesitates for a second, then nods, getting back into stance. He could tell something was on Bucky’s mind, but he wasn’t going to push. At least, not right now. Steve knew when to back off, and when to press—though Bucky had a feeling that conversation would come soon enough.

They start again, trading punches and dodges, but Bucky couldn’t shake the lingering thoughts of you. The way you made him feel—safe, seen. The way you’d praise him. God… the way you’d tell him he did a good job after training or a mission,

Just for a second, his mind drifts again— Your pretty eyes, the way they’d look at him like he was something amazing, the smile you’d give him and then he wonders what your face would look like as he dives down deep between your thighs-

Steve’s fist came in fast, and though Bucky manages to block it, he doesn’t account for the follow-up. Steve's knee connects with his side, hitting just below his ribs with enough force to knock the wind out of him.

Bucky staggers back, holding his side with a grimace.

“Whoa, Buck!” Steve stops immediately, hands out in concern. “You good?”

Bucky clenches his jaw, nodding, though his side throbbed. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth.

“You’re not fine,” Steve replies, taking a step forward, but Bucky waves him off, frustrated with himself more than anything.

“I said I’m fine,” Bucky snaps, turning away for a moment to catch his breath. He hates this. Hates how easily you get into his head, how much he let himself think about you when he was supposed to be focused. It wasn’t like him to get distracted, especially not in a fight.

Steve gives him a long, knowing look. He wasn’t pushing the subject yet, but Bucky could see it in his eyes—Steve had noticed something. And knowing Steve, it wouldn’t be long before he asked about it.

Steve lets out a sigh, shaking his head. “You need to go get that checked out.” He motions to the cut on Bucky’s cheek and his ribs.

“I said I’m fine,” Bucky mutters.

Steve doesn’t budge. “Buck, if you don’t get that cleaned up, it’s going to get worse. You’re already bruised, and that cut—” He gestured to Bucky’s face. “—needs to be looked at.”

Bucky was about to argue again when Steve adds, with a pointed look, “Go see her.”

He blinks, his heart suddenly beating faster in his chest. “What?”

“Go see her,” Steve repeats, his voice calm but insistent. “You know she can patch you up. She always does.”

Bucky opens his mouth to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. You always did take care of them after training, offering vitamin drinks or snacks, your touch gentle and your presence calming.

“I don’t need—” Bucky begins, but Steve cuts him off with a significant look.

“Buck, you’re hurt. Let her help you. Besides, we both know she’d want to,” Steve says, his tone softening as he rests a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “She cares, man. And you’re not doing yourself any favours by pretending you don’t need her.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, his chest tight with a mix of frustration and something else he couldn’t quite name. The truth was, he did want to go to you.

With a heavy sigh, Bucky nods, finally relenting. “Fine.”

Steve smiles, patting him on the shoulder. “Good. Now go get cleaned up. I’ll finish up here.”

Bucky hesitates for a second before turning to leave the training room, his side still aching from the hit.

All he knew was that when he saw you, when you smiled at him with that gentle, understanding look in your eyes, it was going to make it that much harder to keep pretending he didn’t feel anything.

Bucky’s footsteps echo softly through the hall as he makes his way to the infirmary. When he reaches the infirmary door, he gives a soft knock before stepping inside.

You’re there, sitting at your desk with one thigh crossed elegantly over the other, your attention focused on some paperwork in front of you. You’re dressed in your usual professional attire—a fitted dress that hugs your form just enough to hint at your curves beneath your white lab coat. The subtle click of your black heels against the floor when you shift is a small, but noticeable, sound that makes Bucky's heart beat a little faster.

You look up when you hear him enter, that sweet, welcoming smile appearing almost instantly. “Bucky,” you greet warmly, your voice soft. “What brings you in? Did you and Steve go a little too hard today?”

For a second, Bucky just stands there, distracted by how you look. His heart skips a beat as he takes in the sight of you. He notices, maybe for the first time, how the hem of your dress rides up slightly when you cross your legs. He forces himself to look away before you catch him staring.

“Uh, yeah,” he mutters, gesturing vaguely to the cut on his face. “Just a cut… and maybe some bruised ribs.”

You arch an eyebrow, your smile turning a little coy. “Only maybe bruised ribs? Sounds like you need me to take a closer look.”

Bucky blinks, heat creeping up his neck as he tries to decide whether he’s imagining the playful tone in your voice or if it’s actually there. He clears his throat. “Yeah… probably.”

With that, you uncross your legs and stand up, heels clicking softly against the tile floor as you walk over to him. Your movements are graceful, confident, and Bucky feels his pulse quicken as you draw closer. There’s something about the way you carry yourself today���calm, collected, but with an air of subtle suggestion that makes him feel off balance.

You stand just inches away from him, reaching up to gently tilt his chin up so you can inspect the cut above his eyebrow. Your fingers are cool against his sweaty skin, and Bucky freezes, his breath catching in his throat.

“It’s not deep,” you murmur “But it’s a little more than a scratch. Seems like you need my magic touch~” you wiggle your fingers and Bucky bites back a groan at the subtle implication.

Before Bucky can respond, you place your hand gently over the wound, and he feels a soft, warm tingling sensation spread across his skin. Your healing powers are subtle but effective, and within seconds, the pain is gone, the cut already closing up beneath your touch. He’s experienced your abilities before, but every time he feels a spark from your touch, it’s a simple move but he craves more.

“There we go,” you say softly, removing your hand from his face. Your fingers linger a little longer than usual, trailing down his jaw ever so slightly before you step back, your eyes locking with his for a brief moment.

Bucky swallows hard, trying to shake off the heat rising in his chest. He’s probably imagining it—just reading too much into things. You’re always sweet, always kind and innocent.

Your gaze drops to his side, and you gently brush your hand over his ribs. “Lift your shirt for me?” you ask, your voice light but carrying a tone of suggestion that makes Bucky’s heart skip a beat.

He hesitates for a second, then does as you ask, pulling up his shirt to reveal the dark bruise spreading along his ribs. You make a soft sound of sympathy, a small pout forming on your lips as your pretty eyes lock with his for a moment. You look back down, your fingers grazing his skin as you crouch slightly to get a closer look.

“You really got hit hard,” you murmur, your tone carrying a note of concern but it switches up subtly as you carry on: “Good thing I can take care of you.”

Bucky’s breath hitches. Did he hear that right? Is there something more in your words? You were just talking about the injury right? The way you said it, the way you moved—it feels almost sinful in a way he’s not used to, at least not from you. He tries to keep his focus, but with you this close, your fingers trailing lightly over his bruised skin, it’s damn near impossible.

You place your hand gently over his ribs, your touch soft but firm as you close your eyes for a moment, focusing on healing the injury. Bucky feels the familiar warmth of your powers again, spreading through his body like a gentle wave. The pain begins to melt away, the bruise slowly fading beneath your hand.

“There,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “All better.”

But your hand doesn’t move right away. Instead, it lingers on his ribs for a second too long, your fingertips brushing the edge of his abdomen in a way that makes his breath catch. Then, just as he’s about to say something—anything—you pull away, turning to your desk, palms flat and bending as if you’re looking for something. Bucky’s mind flashes to pulling up your dress and fucking you senseless then and there, his metal hand clenches and he shakes the thought away.

Bucky exhales slowly, trying to calm the sudden storm in his chest. He has to be imagining it, right? You’re just being your usual caring self- but that touch felt different. Everything you’re doing feels different. More intentional. And the way you’d looked at him just now—

He notices you didn’t actually pick anything up from the desk after you’d bent over it a little.

“Alright, just one last check,” you say as you come back to stand in front of him, a small, almost playful smile on your lips. “Let me make sure everything else is fine.” You reach up, your hand lightly brushing against his neck as if you’re checking for tension or soreness. But then, your fingers linger—soft and warm against his skin, trailing slowly down to his collarbone. The touch is innocent enough, but there’s something in the way you do it that makes Bucky’s entire body tense.

You meet his eyes, your expression still sweet and professional, but there’s a hint of something more—something almost teasing in the way you hold his gaze. “Hmm, seems like you’re all healed up,” you murmur, your voice soft but suggestive in a way that makes his pulse race.

Bucky swallows, his throat suddenly dry as he stares at you. For a moment, he can’t move, can’t speak—stuck between the need to figure out if what he’s feeling is real or just in his head. He tries to convince himself it’s all innocent, but the way your hand lingers on his neck, the way your eyes flicker to his lips for the briefest of moments… it leaves him wondering if you aren’t quite as innocent as he thought.

You finally step back, that same sweet smile on your face as if nothing happened. “Take it easy, alright? Don’t push yourself too hard next time.”

Bucky nods, his voice hoarse when he finally speaks. “Yeah… thanks.”

You tilt your head, your smile widening just a little. “Anytime.” You sit down on your chair again, crossing one thigh over the other, it seemed deliberate.

You rest a pencil on your lower lip, teeth grazing it just slightly, pretty eyes on him. Bucky draws in a breath and feels a problem growing between his legs. He spins around to the door, hoping you don’t notice.

As Bucky begins leave you call out once more: “Let me know if you need me Bucky~ you can always come to me”

As Bucky leaves the infirmary, his mind spins. He came in with injuries, but now he has a different kind of problem, he attempts to calm down, the hardness in his pants making it hard to think. Something has shifted between you two, and whether it’s real or just in his imagination, Bucky can’t help but think back to it all. Did you want him too?

That night, Bucky stares at his ceiling, mind flashing back to you at your desk. Why didn’t you pick anything up? Did you forget what you were looking for? The look in your eyes told him you must’ve known what was going through his head.

He groans and pushes his face into his pillow, he thinks back to something that had happened a few days ago. You were giving out some sort of vitamin pill to everyone, when you’d leaned in, lips near his ear as you whispered:

“I saved you the last cherry flavoured one, don’t tell anyone” before winking slightly.

He shivers at the memory; he could smell every inch of you when you leaned in.

He grunts and pushes his face farther into the pillow. Why did you always save the good things for him? Was it on purpose? Whenever you baked you’d give him first pick- he thought you were just being nice, the sweet girl they all know. But the more he thinks about you the more he notices those little things.

Before he had even registered what he was doing, he was standing and making his way to your rooms. You did say he could always come to you. Bucky freezes outside the door when he realises where he was and what he was doing. Was he crazy? How could he come up with an excuse for being at your door at eleven at night? Before he can change his mind and turn around your door opens. There you stood wearing nothing but a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top- with no bra.

Bucky freezes, his breath catching in his throat as his gaze locks on you. The soft glow of your bedside lamp spills over your frame, highlighting the way your sleep shorts hug your hips and your tank top clings to your chest. His mouth goes dry.

You blink at him. “Bucky?” your voice is soft, a hint of curiosity laced in your tone. “Is everything okay? F.R.I.D.A.Y told me you were stood outside my door.

For a moment, all he can do is stare. He knows he should say something, anything, but his mind is scrambling for an excuse—an explanation for why he’s standing at your door in the middle of the night. His thoughts drift back to your touch earlier, the brush of your hand on his neck, and the memory of your lips near his ear just days ago.

You tilt your head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips, and Bucky swears there’s something teasing in your expression. You step aside, opening the door wider as if you’re inviting him in. “You didn’t have to knock, you know,” you say with that same sweetness. “You can always come to me.”

His heart pounds in his chest, loud enough that he wonders if you can hear it. He swallows, trying to push down the tension, but something in your eyes—something about the way you're looking at him—has his feet moving before his brain catches up.

He steps over the threshold.

Bucky steps inside, the door clicking shut softly behind him. The room is dim, and the soft scent of your perfume lingers in the air, teasing his senses. He watches you as you turn back toward him, your smile still warm, still innocent—at least on the surface.

“So…” you say, your voice soft as you walk a little closer to him, “What brings you here so late, Bucky?” There’s a hint of playfulness in your tone, like you already know the answer but want to hear him say it.

He shifts awkwardly, his eyes darting away from yours. “I… uh, I couldn’t sleep.” His voice comes out rougher than he intended.

“We both know my healing powers can’t help you sleep Bucky. So what’s up with you coming to see lil’. ol’. Me.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but no words come out. His mind is racing—unsure if you're playing a game or if he’s just reading too much into it. His eyes flick down to your tank top, the way it clings to you, the coolness from the hallway had made hard peaks appear on your chest he then glances back to your face. You’re watching him carefully, that same playful glint in your eyes.

You tilt your head slightly, voice soft but teasing. “You’ve been thinking a lot lately, haven’t you?” Your fingers brush lightly against his arm, sending a shiver through him. “About me?”

Bucky feels his pulse quicken. He’s certain now—there’s no way he’s imagining it.

“I—” He swallows hard, trying to find the right words. But before he can, you step even closer, your body inches from his now, your hand lingering on his arm.

“You think I didn’t notice?” You ask sweetly

Bucky’s breath hitches as your words sink in, and his chest tightens, the space between you suddenly feeling far too small. His mind is racing, but his body is rooted in place, drawn to you in a way he can’t explain. He tries to speak, to form some kind of coherent response, but his voice fails him.

“You think I didn’t notice?” you ask again, your voice low, sweet, but with a teasing edge that makes Bucky’s heart race. Your hand is still resting lightly on his arm, your touch burning through his skin despite the fabric of his shirt. The warmth of your body is so close now, and Bucky is overwhelmed by the scent of you—intoxicating, pulling him deeper into the moment. He can feel himself grow hard at the simple touch, he want’s your hands all over him. He just needs to feel you touch him.

He stares down at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and the way your lips curve into that soft, knowing smile. You tilt your head up slightly, your eyes locking with his, and for a moment, everything else fades away. It’s just the two of you, standing impossibly close, the air between you thick with tension.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, but Bucky hears every word. “I notice where your eyes go when I wear a skirt or dress, if I bend over or wear anything even remotely low cut.”

He swallows hard, his pulse pounding in his ears. He wants to say something, to explain himself, to apologize, but he can’t—because the truth is, you’re right. He has been looking at you, watching you, craving your presence without ever fully admitting it to himself.

You shift even closer, your chest almost brushing against his, and Bucky’s breath catches as your fingers slowly trail up his arm, lingering at his shoulder. His heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest, and he’s not sure how much longer he can keep control of himself. The way you’re looking at him, your lips parted slightly, your eyes holding his like they’re daring him to make the next move…

He’s losing it.

“You don’t have to hide it,” you whisper, your voice laced with that same soft, teasing edge. Your hand moves up to his neck now, your fingertips brushing the sensitive skin just below his jaw. “You can tell me what you want, Bucky…”

He whines.

Before the embarrassment can hit him you let out a low groan at the sound. “Fuck…”

Bucky’s breath comes out in a shudder, his self-control hanging by a thread. He feels the warmth of your hand against his neck, the way your touch lingers just a second too long, and it sends a wave of heat rushing through him.

He opens his mouth to respond, but you’re already moving, closing the last bit of space between you. Your eyes flicker down to his lips, and Bucky’s resolve crumbles. He can’t hold back anymore.

His hand reaches out almost instinctively, fingers gently curling around your waist, pulling you closer. He leans down, his breath mingling with yours as he hovers just inches from your lips, his heart pounding in his chest.

“You…” His voice is low, strained, as if he’s barely holding on. “You’re driving me crazy, doll.”

You smile, and the look in your eyes—soft, teasing, and just a little wicked—sends him over the edge.

Bucky leans to close the gap but your finger presses against his lips. A frown forms on his face, and then you speak.

“ah ah ah” you shake your head “we ask for what we want”

Bucky mentally scolds himself for not asking, he was in the moment.

“May I kiss you?” he asks.

“Say please” there was an unexpected dominance to your tone, completely wiping out the innocence.

Oh fuck.

Bucky feels himself grow harder at the tone. He’s momentarily stunned. Your pretty eyes are on him, feigning innocence but there’s something sinful hiding in them. His beautiful blue eyes look down at you, filled with need.

“Please?”

You let out a moan at the word, your body heating up, your core dampens your shorts.

“Fuck… Bucky…” You say breathily before you pull him down a little to reach your height and kiss him. It’s gentle, as though you’re teasing him, giving him a glimpse to what he can have. He just needs to ask politely.

“Doll… please… I…” He struggles to get his words out, brain fogged over from all the sensations hitting him at once. You run your hands along his abs and he whines again. The whine shoots straight through you. Bucky Barnes, the worlds most accomplished assassin is whining for you.

“Please what? Good boys use their words.” You say in a sinfully soft voice that sends a shiver down his spine.

“I need… more… please” He whispers your name at the end and you hum, satisfied. You grasp his hand and it feels so good to him. Too good. He follows you as you pull him towards the bed.

“Sit there. Lean against the headboard” you hum and he immediately does as he’s told. Sure, he was a super solider who could overpower you in a second, you were both aware. But you were both also aware that he didn’t want that. He needed you to guide him.

You plant yourself in his lap, straddling him, before letting out a soft hum as you feel his hardness push against your core over your sleep shorts. Bucky lets out a moan at the contact but you’re quick to swallow it with a deep, heated kiss. His hands claw at your hips and you gasp slightly as the metal of his hand touches your skin. He’s quick to pull it away but you’re quicker, gripping his wrist and shaking your head, guiding it back in place.

You continue the kiss, before taking his lower lip in between your teeth. You open your eyes to see his blue ones are locked onto your own in what can only be described as the hottest, neediest way, his pupils dilated. You lick over his lip before your hand snakes around the back of his neck and up to his hair. You gently tug, its light, testing the waters and his lips part, head nodding. You pull his hair back a little harsher and he moans. You laugh, the sound dark and sinful in Bucky’s ears.

Your lips kiss his earlobe. “You like your hair pulled? Dirty boy~”

He moans again and nods, hands gripping your hips a little harder, pulling you down to grind on him. You make a ‘tsk’ sound and he freezes, quickly remembering your rule.

You get off him and he groans at the loss of contact, his needy eyes falling onto you. You slowly pull down your shorts, revealing your core to him. His breathing quickens, cock twitching and straining against his sweatpants.

“Take your clothes off, honey” your sultry voice fills his ears and he does so immediately, stripping off his shirt first, exposing the honey toned abs with numerous scars here and there. He is beautiful and you let it show on your face. He drags down his sweatpants leaving him in his grey boxers. There’s a dark damp spot on them from his arousal, pre-cum weeping through from the tip. You make a gesture for him to keep going and he obliges, dragging the boxers down. He stands there, glorious cock hard against his abdomen, looking at you, waiting for your next command.

“What do you want? You just need to ask” You inquire, goading him to tell you.

He swallows, looking down at your dripping core and then back to his cock. You fully expect him to ask to fuck you based on his expression, but he shocks you.

“Can I taste you please?”

Your eyes widen briefly, stunned at his choice.

“I’m sorry— if you don’t want—“ He begins to speak but you cut him off with a finger to your lips and standing up. You slowly peel off your shorts, leaning against the wall.

“You asked me so nicely.” You beckon him and the speed in which he’s on his knees in front of you has your legs weak. His hands skim over your thighs, leaving Goosebumps in their wake. “Is this what you want?”

Bucky looks up at you with desperate eyes, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “Yes, please” His voice is hoarse.

“You wanna make me feel good?” You coo.

Bucky groans, his hands gripping your thighs a little. “More than anything” He confirms.

You nod, giving your permission and he settles in between your thighs. He grasps your ass, pulling you up so your legs are over his shoulders, his head cradled by your thighs. You’re momentarily stunned, briefly forgetting he’s a super soldier with insane strength. The thought goes right to your core. Your back is against the wall, his hands still firm on your ass, keeping you in place. Bucky’s breath ghosts across your core before he looks up at you. The sight was nearly enough to make you come. With a firm squeeze on your ass, he dives in, licking a stripe up your lips, making you gasp and weave your fingers through his hair. He groans and begins to lap at your clit like a man starved. He occasionally moans and groans, letting you know how much he’s enjoying being between your legs.

“Bucky— oh my god” You moan out. This only drives him more, he focuses his tongue on your bundle of nerves and you see stars.

He is good at this.

Really fucking good.

Too good?

It doesn’t take you long to come at all, you grasp his hair tighter, thighs squeezing around his head in a way that makes his cock twitch against his abdomen. He rides you through your orgasm until you’re squirming and too sensitive.

He pulls back, holding you up still, and looks into your eyes. The lower part of his face is sinfully wet, he gives you a charming smile, eyes still betraying his neediness.

“You did so well… so good for me…” You breathe out and a strangled noise escapes him.

A praise kink.

“You did so so good for me Bucky~ You deserve a reward” You coo, getting off his shoulders and standing up. You tilt his head up with your finger. “You want a reward baby?”

Bucky lets out a breathy noise and nods.

“What do you want? I’ll give you whatever you want”

Bucky Looks up at you, standing up. He shocked you again.

“Please doll… sit on my face… if… you want…” He adds the last part, unsure. All he knows is that being in between your thighs, hearing you, feeling you, giving you pleasure is all he wants right now.

You bite back a groan and nod, watching him scramble to the bed, laying on his back. He’s gloriously naked, thick cock incredibly hard and standing to attention. You crawl up his body, making sure to brush up against his length to hear those delicious whines from him. His hips buck a few times against you and then you’re settled just above his face. You look down at him and he looks ravenous— His desperate eyes flicking from your core to your face. His hands keep flexing as he struggles, wanting nothing more than to pull you down onto his face and hold you there until he can’t breathe.

“You can touch me Buck” you say softly and his hands hesitantly settle on your hips. He pauses before it eventually becomes too much and pulls you down onto his face, groaning at the impact. You don’t move much, assuming he wants to take the lead when he speaks, muffled against your core.

You giggle and look at him innocently. “Sorry honey what was that? I can’t understand you~”

His eyes grow even more needy, looking up at you. He speaks, muffled again before he decided to lift you up just enough to speak.

“Move— please. Grind on my face. Use me to come please”

How could you say no to such a beautiful request?

You settle back down and rock your hips. His tongue moves with the same finesse and you can’t help but wonder if he’s tired. He doesn’t look tired. You move his arms so he’s holding them up and you entwine your fingers, using his arms to keep you upright, moving against him. His eyes are fluttering shut in pleasure and you groan. You make quick work of your shirt, leaving you both naked now.

“Eyes open Bucky~ I thought you wanted to see what you do to me?~” You tease.

His eyes shoot open again, pupils dilated, his eyes more black than blue now.

“Good~ So good to me” You breathe out and he moans against you, making you gasp and your hips stutter. You grip his hands tighter. His pretty eyes are begging you to come and you do, thighs once again squeezing around his head, making him feel dizzy. Your hips are bucking against his face not even thinking about his breathing— but that isn’t on Bucky’s mind either. You ride out your orgasm and get off him, falling on your back, breathing erratic.

Bucky lays there with the lower half of his face wet, stubble and all. His breathing is erratic and his cock is painfully hard against his abdomen.

“Holy shit Bucky” You huff out and a hoarse moan leaves his mouth.

He slots himself between your legs, kissing your shoulder, slowly moving down your body until he’s at your hip, kissing it softly.

“You are so beautiful doll” His eyes are sincere and your cheeks feel hot at the compliment. “One more time? Please?” He asks, eyes pleading.

Sweet mother of Jesus.

“You want— you seriously— you want to eat me out again?” Your eyes are wide.

Bucky nods, nuzzling and kissing your thigh before focusing on your face again. “And to fuck you with my fingers if that’s alright with you doll?”

Sweet. Mother. Of. Jesus.

Your brain short circuits for a moment at the words leaving his mouth and you mindlessly nod, your gaze heated and intense.

He runs a finger along your dripping core and he moans. Was he really getting this much pleasure? You hadn’t even touched him at all. He teases your entrance before sinking a finger in softly. He hisses at how tight it is, his cock twitching. You let out a soft breathy moan at the feeling, instinctively reaching for his hair. Bucky peppers kisses on your thighs before he begins pumping his finger.

It’s not enough.

“More” You demand, gripping his hair. Bucky is happy to oblige, pushing a second finger in, your toes curling. “oh god yes”

Bucky begins to curl his fingers, brushing up against your sweet spot as he increases his pace a fraction and you cry out.

“Am I doing good?” His husky voice asks, desperate for praise.

“So good baby, so fucking good. You’re so good to me” You moan out and he snaps, thrusting his fingers into you with a little more force and latching his mouth onto your clit. You’re so sensitive at this point you let out a whine, your words not coherent. You didn’t even know it was possible to come this many times before being fucked. The coil in your stomach feels more intense than you have ever felt before, you tighten around his fingers and before you could warn him, he pulls away, watching the liquid squirt from you in awe. You, on the other hand are glassy eyed and trembling afterwards.

Bucky gives you a few minutes to settle before he brings himself back up to your face, you pull him in for a messy kiss. His cock is settled on your thigh, Bucky whines into the kiss and you can feel him jutting against it. You grasp his chin as he kisses you, feeling his length as he desperately claims whatever friction he can get.

Bucky is surprised at himself. There has never been a time in his life where he has felt the need to dry hump a woman. But you have the best ways of bringing new feelings and actions out of him.

“Please” He says softly.

“Oh you’re so worked up honey. After doing such a good job. Take what you want Bucky” you coo, stroking his cheek and he leans into it before settling his hips between your legs.

“Can I… are you okay if I…” He begins and you nod.

“You’ve more than earned it” You rake your hands through his hair, nails scratching his scalp.

In an attempt to ground himself, He places his hands on your headboard, letting you guide his cock into place. He pushes in and groans, immediately shattering the headboard where his hands were.

Oh lord.

You squeeze around him and let out a breathy, aroused giggle. Bucky on the other hand looks mortified.

“Oh my god doll I am so sorry—“ He goes to pull out of you but you grasp his arms and shake your head. He doesn’t take much convincing before he pushes into you fully. He’s panting and rests his forehead on yours. Even with the fingers stretching you earlier, you need to adjust. The super solider cock is no joke.

You moan encouragingly in his ear and he pulls back softly before pushing back in. Your eyes flutter and Bucky has his trained solely on you and your reactions.

“Am I hurting you, doll?” He asks, breathily, stopping his motions.

You shake your head immediately. “Please don’t stop”

He keeps his strength in check, bracing on the half broken headboard again, his hands slotting into the Bucky sized hand holes in them. He uses a leisurely pace that does hit the spot, but it’s not quite enough. You could tell he was holding back for your sake but you needed to see just how much he needed you.

“Harder Bucky~ Fuck. I can take it— please”

The headboard crushes even more at your words, your legs were wound around his hips, he leans forward, wrapping his arms around you, his face buried in your neck as he desperately thrusts into you. It’s hard and fast, a string of moans and curses leaving your mouth as you can’t move in his grip, all you can do is take it. You’re seeing stars now, as Bucky is whining and muttering praises in your ear.

“You feel so good doll”

“I would do this forever… beautiful beautiful girl”

And lastly:

“Oh god thank you” He repeats the phrase a few times and your head spins.

He’s fucking thanking you.

You manage to moan out a few praises that are punctuated by his sharp needy thrusts. He pulls his face away from his neck when he’s close. You can see it on his face, begging you to come first. He slips his metal hand down to your clit, stroking the already sensitive bundle of nerves and your eyes widen at the coolness against it.

“Please come” He moans and it doesn’t take you long to oblige his plea, the metal hand on your clit, the whines from Bucky and his cock hitting you deep pushes you over the edge and you come, clenching him hard.

“You’re so beautiful” He says in awe. “Please can I come— please doll” Bucky’s thrusts are faltering.

“fill me up Bucky~” You moan and that’s all it takes, his thrusts become harder, your body jolting from the force, you’ll feel this in your hips in the morning. You could always heal it away. But you probably won’t. You place a hand over his neck holding it loosely, your other hand raking through his hair.

Bucky thrusts into you hard and deep, with hoarse moans of thank you as he comes inside you, filling you up. He simply stays inside you after, his body moving with his deep ragged breaths before he collapses on top of you, making sure to use some strength to stop him crushing you. You stroke his hair, muttering soft praises.

He rolls off you, his honey toned skin covered in a sheen of sweat that made him look godly. Your legs are jelly; you aren’t even sure you can use them for the next few days. Bucky stands and walks to your bathroom, giving you the perfect view of his sculpted ass and returns a few moments later with a warm wet cloth to clean you up with.

When the both of you are cleaned up, Bucky begins to wipe away the crushed pieces of headboard from your bed sheepishly.

“Sorry doll” He says quietly.

“It’s okay” You assure. “It was hot. Made me feel like Bella Swan” You joke.

Bucky looks at you, not understanding the reference.

“From Twi… never mind” You hum, helping to brush off the little pieces of wood. He lays back down and pulls you into his arms.

“Doll… I… I have never felt like that before. What did you do to me? I am under a spell when it comes to you.”

You yawn and let out a sleepy laugh. “You’re telling me. I don’t think I could sleep with a regular dude again after that”

It’s not long until exhaustion rushes through you. Super solider stamina is no joke. You drift off, head on his chest. Bucky watches the soft rise and fall of your chest, your soft snores filling the room.

And for the first time in what feels like forever; Bucky has a deep, dreamless sleep. His nightmares paused as he slumbers beside your soft, warm body.

It’s late when Bucky wakes up. Your side of the bed is cold. He glances at the clock on his phone, reading 11:07am, and a text from you, timestamped two hours ago:

‘Morning sleepy head. I didn’t wanna wake you. You looked too comfortable ;)’

He smiles at the text and looks for his clothes, only to find you must have taken a trip to his room to grab some fresh clothes. There is a towel on a chair with a new set of clean clothes and a pair of boxers.

When he’s all cleaned up and dressed he makes his way to the kitchen. You’re talking to Wanda, Steve and Sam.

“Bucky good morning!” Your sweet voice drifts over to him. “You slept in late. Are you feeling okay? Late night?” It’s an innocent question, no one bats an eyelash at it. You’re the healer of the team, and you’re concerned. But Bucky bites back a groan at the implications they both know is behind the sweet words.

Before Bucky can respond, Tony walks in.

“Hey Hippocrates” Tony calls out to you. “Why did F.R.I.D.A.Y tell me you needed a new headboard for your bed?

Oops.

-END-

[pome-seed]

Lipstick Stains ♡ Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Sub!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky's self-conscious, so you cover him in lipstick stains while telling him how beautiful he is.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Graphic Sexual Content. Body image issues. Submissive Bucky. Whimpering & whining Bucky. Hand jobs. Kissing. Kiss marks. Self confidence. Affirmations. Established Relationship

18+ blog, Minors Do Not Interact.

Authors Note: Inspired by a video I saw. God I wanna cover him in kisses. If you want to be apart of the taglist, let me know :)

Masterlist

It’s fair to say that almost every person alive has a complicated relationship with their body. 

Whether from years of self inflicted hatred, or from unwanted outside opinion, everyone feels a certain way. 

That includes Bucky. 

Bucky is a large man. He’s tall and broad, full and sculpted. He’s a statue of muscle and scars, and you’ve always believed he was the most beautiful man alive. Because generally, he is attractive. Nearly perfect, to the modern era's beauty standards. 

But it's not that simple, not for him.

Because his body is a prison, a shell, a glass cage marred with the shadows of his past. And when he looks at himself, he doesn’t see what you see. He sees blood, and burns. He sees scars, pale and swollen. He sees metal fused with flesh, reminding him constantly that his body isn’t really his. 

So when you find Bucky in your bedroom, staring at himself in the mirror, you know. You know what he’s looking for. 

Because Bucky doesn’t admire himself. He doesn’t take pleasure in pictures, or passing glances in the mirror. He doesn’t like looking at himself. 

But you do.

You always will.

“Whatcha doin?” You pipe up from the doorway.

Bucky nearly flinches, his gaze finding yours in the mirror. “You’re home early…” He mutters, a soft sigh tumbling from his lips. 

You shrug, carefully approaching him. “Not really,” you set your bag on the floor. “Same time as always. How long have you been standing here?” Your hands brush over his hips, where a towel clothes his hips. He must have just gotten out of the shower- except his skin was dry. 

“I lost track of time,” he relaxes as your arms circle his waist, your chin propping up on his shoulder. 

“What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” You stare at him through the reflection of your standing mirror.

“Just thinkin’...” He swallows, his large palms petting over where your hands rest on his stomach. You frown, wishing he’d look at you. 

“You wanna talk about it?” He shakes his head. He always says no when it comes to this. He just can never get the words out. Never muster the courage to talk about it. “Mkay,” you mutter, smacking a soft kiss to his shoulder. 

You don’t pull back, because the way he keeps your hands locked in place tells you he wants you where you are. 

Something Bucky made clear from the start was that he was touch starved. He never said it out loud, but the way he practically purred beneath every brush of your skin told you everything. 

You often think he’s too embarrassed, which is why he’s grateful you never confront him about it. Instead, you wrap him in your arms and curl up against him. 

You pet a hand down his muscular stomach, soothing and slow. “You’re beautiful, Buck,” you whisper, your lips pressed to his nape. He shivers, his throat bobbing. “Really, really beautiful. The most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”

“Y/n…” he huffs, his cheeks heating under the praise. 

“Sometimes I can’t believe you’re real, just by looking at you,” your thumb strokes over his naval. “I wish you could see what I see, James,” you rest your cheek against his shoulder. “I wish you could see how perfect you are.”

He stiffens, his arms slack at his side. His heavy gaze lifts to the mirror, but this time he tries to focus on where you’re connected. On the way you touch him. 

“If I could,” you start, your breath fanning across his skin, “I would spend my day just staring at you. Admiring you. Touching you.” Your fingers brush over the hem of the towel. 

He sighs softly, leaning back against you. 

You don’t have to look to know he’s already worked up. Emotional vulnerability works him up more than anything else. 

“If I could, I’d spend my life worshiping you.” You tug his towel loose, letting it fall to the floor. 

He makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, deep and flustered, as he’s greeted with the sight of his naked reflection. “You’re dramatic,” he mutters, watching your hand inch closer.

“I’m not,” you protest, your free hand petting along his side, over the notch of his hip. “I mean it, James. I mean every word.” 

He groans as your fingers wrap around his stiff erection, his stomach tensing. “You-” he licks his lips. “You’re ridiculous…”

You chuckle, your hand still, just holding the weight of him. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you could see what I see.” You mutter, brushing a kiss over the shell of his ear. “I’m lucky, baby, I really am. To be with you, to hold you,” your thumb strokes the base of his cock, his skin smooth and warm. “To touch you.”

He groans, his hips twitching. 

Bucky stares in the mirror, astonished and only a little embarrassed. But your touch, to him, is like a drug. It’s like something he needs in his veins, in his soul, down to his very atoms. He needs it, doesn’t matter how. 

A brush of your fingers at breakfast, a hand on your hip as he passes you by, or a sweet kiss before bed. It doesn’t matter. He craves it. He craves you.

You look over his shoulder, catching his eyes in the mirror. “Look,” you insist. “Not at me, at you.” You rest your cheek against his shoulder. “Look how pretty you are.”

He makes a choked off noise, his ears tinting pink. “Jesus…”

You bite back your smile. “Are you embarrassed?”

He turns his head to the side, a frown curling at his lips. Because the only thing worse than feeling embarrassed, was being asked if you’re embarrassed. 

“You shouldn’t be,” you smile. “It’s a fact, Buck, you’re pretty.”

He huffs, his hips twitching forward into your still hand. “Y/n…”

You carefully release him, stepping back just enough to feel his warmth slip away. He looks over his shoulder at you, watching as you dig through your purse. He says nothing as you open up your small makeup bag. 

You find what you’re looking for and move back into his space, carefully pushing him back against the dresser. “I want you to feel it,” you mutter, your hand skating down his waist. He frowns at you, shifting on his feet. “To like what you see.”

“Y/n, I…” he shakes his head, reaching for your hips. “Knock it off…”

A soft smile spreads across your face. “Can’t. Gotta make my point.” You arch up and drag a slow kiss across his lips. He leans into you, sighing as your tongue strokes over his. 

You pull back too soon- a disgruntled sound rumbles in Bucky’s chest. You bite back a cheeky smirk as you sink to your knees before him. His breath catches in his lungs, his fists curling around the edge of the dresser. 

But you don’t acknowledge his heavy erection, not at first. Instead you open your hand, revealing a tube of lipstick. You uncap it and carefully apply the silky pigment to your lips. Bucky watches you, his brow pinched in confusion. 

“I don’t think you realize how perfect you are Bucky,” you whisper, rolling your lips together. Your warm hands stroke down his outer thighs, over the rippling muscle beneath the flesh. “Every small thing,” you whisper, leaning in. You press a soft kiss to the curve of his left thigh. 

“Your thighs,” you hum, pulling back to admire the red stain left behind. 

“What are you doing?” He swallows, his stomach tensing as he watches you. 

“I want you to see what I see,” you whisper, pressing another firm kiss to his right thigh. His hips shift, his aching erection twitching. “Have I ever told you how much I like your legs?” You mutter, glancing up at him as you peck his outer thigh. 

“So thick, so pretty.” You press red marks into his skin, the shape of your lips carved perfectly with lipstick. “I’ve always liked how they look in your dark jeans.” You slide your hands up the back of his thighs, grabbing a handful of his ass. “And how good your ass looks in them too.”

Bucky swallows, his back arching nervously as you touch him. He stares down at you, his jaw clenched so tight, his ears ring. “Y/n…” he calls your name, sounding breathless. 

You kiss along his inner thighs, the red pigment stark against pale skin. “So pretty,” you drag your hands back down his legs, petting him affectionately. You peck kisses between his legs, trailing them up to his hip. You glance up, nudging his cock with your cheek.

Bucky grunts, his cheeks dusting a furious pink. His heart hammers heavily against his ribs, pounding and thrumming beneath his skin. 

“Every part of you,” You cup him in your hand, your fingers wrapping around his base. Bucky holds your gaze as you press a gentle kiss along the side of his shaft. His stomach twitches, a soft whine falling from his lips. 

You smile, your spare hand stroking from his waist to his leg. You press another kiss just beneath the head of his cock, your lipstick staining him red. 

Bucky squirms, his hips twitching forward. His fists tremble against the dresser, his skin painted pink with embarrassment. “Christ-” He pants, watching you. You curve down, your eyes falling shut as you gently kiss along the curve of his balls. He flinches, a choked whimper falling from his lips. “Why are- oh god,” his lashes flutter as your fingers gently squeeze the base of his cock. 

You tilt your head up, his heavy erection resting against your cheek. “It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, dragging another firm kiss along the side of his length. “I want you to watch.”

He groans, his tongue swiping over his lips. He blinks down at you, embarrassed under your excessive devotion. “Okay…” He swallows, his chest stuttering with breath.

You stroke your thumb along the thick vein traveling along the underside of his cock, just barely offering stimulation. Heat sparks in your gut as he obediently keeps his eyes on you- only momentarily glancing at the many lipstick stains marking his body. 

He forces himself to look back at you, too flustered and worked up. But he knows it will stain. He knows those marks will last, even after a shower. 

He knows the next time he sees himself naked, He’ll see himself covered in your admiration. 

You lick your palm and wrap your fingers back around his length.

“What else?” He blurts, his voice breathy and light. 

“Hm?” You glance up, your lips pressed to his balls. 

“You like my thighs,” he gasps, his legs spreading to give you room. “What- what else?”

You smile, pulling back. “God, there’s so much.” You chuckle, dragging your tongue along his weeping slit. Bucky chokes on a broken whine, his body arching into you. “I like the cut of your hips,” You arche up, smearing lipstick into his sharp V line. “I like your stomach,” You peck below his belly button. 

“I like when you lift your arms over your head, and I can see your happy trail.” You thumb over your last kiss mark, where short dark hairs are stained red. “I like your back, how big you are.” You whisper into his stomach. 

He pants, his mouth falling open as he tries to grind into your hand. He doesn’t get much from it though, making him whine softly. “Uh-huh…” He looks pathetic, chasing pleasure as you cover him in lipstick, begging you to take mercy on him.

But this wasn’t just about sexual pleasure, it wasn’t about chasing a high. It was about physically marking Bucky with your love, with your devotion. It was about holding his attention and showering him in gentle affection. 

Because he wasn’t used to this- he wasn’t used to offering himself up, vulnerable and weak, for you to handle. But he trusted you, more than anyone else. 

He trusts you to pick him apart, tease him to the edge, and fall apart. He trusts you to not make him feel pathetic as he whimpers through it, squirming and twitching beneath delicious pleasure and affection. 

“I like your arms,” you gently pump his cock, nuzzling into the base. “Both of them.”

“Yeah?” He gasps, his chin dipping to his chest as his muscles clench. 

“Mhm,” you mouth along his shaft, his pulse spiking beneath your tongue. “I like your shoulders, so broad and strong. Your chest, your smooth skin-” you pause as he chokes on a whine, his hips squirming closer. You smile, slowing your hand to a stop.

“Fuck-” He pants, his pink lips wet as he continues to swipe his tongue over them.

You pull back, staring up at him. Your stomach flips at the sight before you- Bucky, blushing and breathless, his brow knit tightly, shadowing those sharp blue eyes. His chest rises quickly with breathlessness as he struggles to ground himself.

“Tell me what you like,” You ask, continuing to slowly stroke his cock. 

“I- Ngh-” He chokes, his body trembling as he takes it. “What I like?”

“Tell me your favorite part of your body,” You explain.

“I don’t know-” He gasps, grinding into your hand. 

You carefully push his hips back against the dresser, trying to get him to focus. “Try,” you ask, smiling when his lashes flutter. 

He swallows hard, his jaw tensing as he tries to speak. “Uh-” he pants, blinking down at you. He has to turn his head away, his face aflame at the sight of you pumping his lipstick stained cock. “I like my jaw,” he whimpers.

“Mm, me too,” you grin, thumbing the curve of his tip. “What else?”

“I-I don’t mind my legs,” he moans, trying not to fuck your fist. 

“Come on, baby, gimme more,” you whisper, kissing his hip.

He whines, his head lolling back. “Fuck, I-” he pants. “My lips, I like my lips.”

You smile, nodding along. “Mm, those are my favorite.” You stare up at thim, at the way his teeth dig into the plush curve, trying to silence himself. 

“My height,” he groans, your fist tightening slightly. “I like my height.” He swallows, trying to gather himself enough to think. “I like my muscles,” he mutters, embarrassed at the admission. “I like being strong- knowing I can protect you.”

Your lips twitch in a soft frown, affection burning in your chest. “Look at me, baby.”

He blinks down at you, his body twitching. 

“You always make me feel so safe,” you whisper, satisfied by the mewl that falls from his lips. “Knowing you’re with me makes me feel protected.” 

He moans, the thought of your faith in him making his stomach burn with arousal. “Yeah?” 

You nod, slowly pumping his length. “I like knowing you’ll always take care of me,” you whisper, your lips pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his cock.

Bucky moans, the sound wavering, breaking into a soft whimper. “Y/n, I-” He calls your name, the sound falling from his tongue like a prayer. “Fuck, I- I have to-” he gasps. “Can I-? Oh fuck, please?”

You shiver, arousal burning through your veins. “Of course,” You press gentle kisses to his tip, his slick precum smearing your lipstick. 

Bucky’s whole body draws tight, like a wire ready to snap- and it does. He chokes on a broken sob as he spills over your fingers, cum dripping to your thighs. He squirms, writhing against the dresser as you fist his cock, helping him through it. 

“Oh god-” he sobs, his hips twitching as you spread his release over his stiff cock. “Oh fuck,” whimpers fall from his lips, spiking your pulse like a drug. 

“So good,” you kiss his slick head again, listening to him whine.

“Fuck-” he gasps, overstimulation making him flinch. “Okay, stop- stop-”

You release him instantly, your hands stroking down his thighs. He groans, his body slumping against the dresser. You smile, resting your cheek against his thigh. 

His trembling hand slides into your hair, petting you gently. It takes him a while to come down from that heady space, from the overwhelming pleasure. 

You just stroke down his leg, curling up against him. 

“I’m-I’m gonna have to shower again…” He whispers, panting softly. 

“Yeah, these aren’t coming off with just a little soap.” You smile, tracing the many red lipstick stains. 

“I know…” He swallows, his stomach twisting from the possessive act. 

When he looks down at himself, at you, he blushes softly. His pale skin is speckled with dark red, the shape of your lips burned into his body.

He bites his lip to suppress the embarrassed smile that fights its way across his face.

A/N: The submissive Bucky requests are appreciated. I love a whiny Bucky.

Minors/ageless bios WILL BE BLOCKED.

Taglist:

@a-world-with-pure-imagination @frog-fans-unite @1967barracuda @akkklys @cherryheairt @lonelyghosts-stuff @mysoulbelongstobuckybarnes @devilslittlehelper @miss-chuchu @dollface-xoxo @natalia42069 @thuul-box @local-crazy @justachillgirllui @pleasecallmeunhinged @cookies-and-music @fallen-w1ngs @unicornqueen05 @bloodmocha @sleepysongbirdsings @fadingcollectivenightmare @hosshihusshi @sharkylalala

Tagged because they said I should write sub Bucky stuff:

@projectjuvia @scarlet-bitch @nicolesholes

I won't tag you again unless you asked to be tagged in further works...I don't wanna bother you... <3

[geeky-politics-46]

john walker smut w hair pulling AAAA I WANNA TUG HIS HAIR SOBAAD

Harder

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Pairing: John Walker x Reader

Summary: You discover something that makes John Walker putty in your hands in the bedroom.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, pet names, language, hair pulling, sub-ish John Walker.

Send me more requests for Walker, pretty please! It's actually got my creativity going.

Sometimes sex with John was a fight for dominance. Lots of flipping back and forth over which one of you would get to be on top. Until you found a trick that would let you do whatever you wanted with him. 

Your big, strong, super soldier apparently had a soft spot for having his pretty blonde hair pulled. Like eyes rolling back in his head, practically cumming on the spot weakness for it. You abused this weakness whenever you wanted. 

The first time you discovered it, he was sitting up leaning against the headboard. With you in his lap riding him. You had taken to locking your ankles over his thighs to try and keep him from taking control when you were on top. 

Granted, with his super soldier strength, he could easily just overpower you, but he was trying to get better about relinquishing control. It was not his favorite thing to do in or out of the bedroom. It was easier to go along with when you were busy bouncing away on his cock.

On this particular day, he was starting to get a little antsy, though. You could feel him trying to adjust his position so he fuck up into you. Not too pleased with the fact that you kept changing the pace whenever you could feel him getting close to cumming. 

You warned him to try and stop his squirming. 

“Behave John. Otherwise, I'm gonna get off of you, and you can finish this by yourself.”

Leaning to press a kiss to his lips as whined. Dropping his eyes down to watch where his cock was slotted into your cunt. Your slick visible on his shaft everytime your hips lifted.

“Please honey, you know I'm gonna stay hard. Please just let me cum. Fill you up once and then you can do whatever you want with me.”

At times like this, he sounded almost pathetic. Begging for release at your hands. You felt a new rush of heat soaking you, and you knew he felt it too. He decided to play into it.

“So wet. Pussy's so perfect. I need to cum. Come on fuck me harder. Pretty please, baby? I need it.”

Suddenly, you ran your hands up his neck and into his blonde hair. Scraping your fingernails in his scalp before gripping onto his soft locks. Yanking hard and pulling his head back so his powder blue eyes were locked on yours. His mouth fell open, and a deep groan pulled from his chest at the sharp sensation. 

You could feel his cock throb inside you as you pulled his blonde strands. A devilish smirk on your face as you realized you had just found a new way to push him to the edge. You started bouncing on him with renewed force as you readjusted your grip on his hair.

“Oh you like that, huh baby? My big, strong man likes me yanking on his pretty blonde hair? I feel your cock pulsing inside me baby. I know how close you are just from that. Bet you're leaking so much pre cum too. All ready to fill my pussy full.” 

Between the filthy words falling from your lips, your hips slamming down on him, and the feeling of your fingers tugging in his hair, he knew he stood zero chance of lasting. All he could do was enjoy the sound of your cunt sucking him in and plead for you to keep going.

“Please don't stop. Ride me just like that, honey. Pull harder. Pull my hair harder. I'm so close darlin’."

The harder you pulled and the faster you rode him the louder he shouted your name. Chanting it over and over like an appeal to the gods. The desperation in his voice pulling you closer to your own orgasm. 

Only about 30 seconds more and a strained moan tore through John's throat. Loud enough, you were sure Yelena could hear it through the wall. His fingers were digging into your hips so hard they would leave bruises. 

The feeling of his warm cum flooding your insides sent you over the edge with him. Your cunt milked his cock of every last drop as you pulled his hair so hard you were worried you were gonna pull it out of his head. Not that it seemed to bother him. If anything it felt like it made his orgasm last longer.

His breath was coming in pants as he let himself slide down the headboard so his head was resting on the pillows. His eyes closed, and arms fell to the wayside as you dismounted him. His head was still spinning from the little trip to heaven you just took him on.

“That was incredible!”

You settled in next to him and placed a kiss on his chest. Smiling at the awestruck expression on his face. Biting at his pec gently before teasing him about your new discovery. 

“Didn't know you liked having your hair pulled so much, soldier.” 

His eyebrows quirked, and a soft smirk settled on his lips. Wrapping his arms around you so you could snuggle into him tighter. He wasn't done with you yet for the evening.

“Neither did I.” 

His words slightly slurred as he recovered from his orgasm. You knew he would be ready to go again in short order, but clearly pulling his hair gave John a climax on a whole other level. It was definitely something you would be using more often.

--------------------------------

John Walker taglist:

Let me know if you want to be added!

Back to main masterlist

[mmywanda]

Forbidden Pleasure — W.M

—

Paring: CEO!WandaMaximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: When you decided to join your family’s business, you had no idea the ceo of the rival company would be so.. alluring.

Warnings: Forbidden romance, seduction, corruption, age gap, future d/s dynamics, a lot of sexual tension, smut, Wanda in a suit needs its own warning, and more to be added in each chapter. men & minors dni.

Inspired by the brilliant song ‘Dandelion’ by Jesse Jo Stark. I highly recommend listening to it as the chapter names will be from the lyrics.

—

Chapter One: Dandelion

Chapter Two: ….

Chapter Three: ….

[mmmurdockss]

This is actually insane he had no reason to open his mouth like that

[buckyseternaldoll]

knife's edge.

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary: Heels on. Nothing else. You only meant to try them on—until Bucky saw your reflection in the mirror. Now he’s on his knees, leaking, begging, and discovering a kink he never knew he needed.

Disclaimer: 18+ (mdni!), explicit smut content, stiletto kink, cock worship (m receiving), edging, orgasm denial, ruined orgasm, praise/degradation mix, soft dom!reader, sub!bucky, kink discovery, begging

Author's Note: Just trying something new based on umm an old quote from the man himself (Sebastian).

You’d only meant to try them on.

The heels—sleek, obsidian black stilettos—had been tossed carelessly by your dresser, still in the box Yelena had left with a wink.

“You’re gonna need these at that gala. Something that says: I might stab you, and I’ll look damn good doing it.”

Now, fresh from your shower, skin still warm and dewy, you slipped into them—nothing on but a towel draped over your hair, drying off the ends. The hard click of the heel echoed sharply as you stepped across the hardwood floor of your walk-in, then paused to study your reflection in the full-length mirror.

The shoes made your legs look longer. Firmer. Every shift of your weight made your muscles flex just right—like danger incarnate wrapped in nothing but bare skin and sleek edges. You turned slightly, admiring the clean line of your thigh from the back, the curve of your ass lifted just right by the height of the heels.

You took a few steps—slow and experimental—toward the mirror. Click. Click. A small smile played on your lips. Powerful. That’s how they made you feel.

You didn’t realize you weren’t alone.

Bucky had been standing just past the doorway—towel slung low around his hips, hair damp, chest still glistening from the aborted mission to shower. But now he was behind you, watching silently.

In the mirror, you saw him—towering behind you like some kind of storm barely held back. His jaw was tight. His cock already twitching beneath the towel.

“Jesus,” he muttered, voice low and wrecked.

You startled slightly, catching his reflection. “Buck?”

“I—” he dragged a hand down his face. “Don’t move.”

You arched a brow, amused. “Why?”

“Because I can’t stop staring. You—fuck, sweetheart…” His eyes raked your reflection, wide and hungry. “You look like a fucking vision. I can’t—your legs. Tight. Flexed. Those fucking heels…”

You shifted again, subtle, letting the pose change slightly. “It’s just heels.”

“You’re naked in heels,” he rasped, stepping forward like gravity reeled him in. “Clicking around like it’s nothing. And you didn’t even know I was here. That’s fucking criminal.”

He stopped just behind you—close enough that you could feel the heat of him, his towel brushing your skin. You met his gaze in the mirror as he stared over your shoulder, utterly entranced.

“I was testing them out.”

“Yeah?” His voice dipped again. “I’m testing my fucking limits.”

Still, he didn’t touch. His breath ghosted across your neck as he whispered, “You look like you could slit throats and make a man thank you for it.”

You chuckled, soft and sultry. “That’s a compliment?”

“Sweetheart, that’s a confession.”

Then his hands finally found your hips. He pressed himself to your back, hard and hot, his cock fully erect beneath the thin towel. His mouth brushed your ear.

“You ever see yourself like this?” he murmured. “Legs flexed. Shoulders bare. Looking at me in the mirror like that?”

“I see you too,” you whispered, shifting your weight just slightly so your heel lifted. “And I see what this is doing to you.”

Bucky groaned, the sound dark and low in his throat. His grip tightened, and then—slowly—he turned you in his hands. Gently, reverently. Until you were facing him.

His eyes were glazed, jaw tight, towel strained over how badly he wanted you.

Then, with one hand, he reached down and curled his fingers behind your knee.

“Lift it,” he said, voice a raw rasp.

You obeyed, placing your hand on his shoulder for balance as you raised your leg.

He caught it easily—guided your stiletto up onto his thigh, right against the heat of him.

And just like that… you understood.

You shifted your angle slightly, just enough to let the sharp point of your heel drag slowly across the inside of his thigh. He gasped.

You did it again. Slower this time. Closer.

He bit his bottom lip, eyes fluttering half-shut.

“Think I just found a new kink,” he groaned. “You, wearing those heels. Me just… watching you use ‘em like this.”

“You’d let me tease you like this?” you asked, voice teasing, hungry. “Keep you hard with just my heels and no hands?”

His hips jerked forward instinctively.

“You’d do that to me?”

You smiled, head tilting slightly. “I’d make you beg, Bucky. Tell you how pretty you look, all desperate. Maybe even let you rut up against my foot a little. But only if you ask nicely.”

“Fuck.” His voice cracked. “You could ruin me.”

You stepped in closer, both hands pressing gently to his chest now.

“Then let me.”

And with one slow, confident push, you backed him until his shoulders met the cool surface of the mirror behind him—still watching, still reflected.

Bucky exhaled a shaky breath, letting his towel fall.

And you dropped to your knees.

You were just getting started.

—

You looked up at him, cock flushed and twitching in front of you, chest rising and falling like he was holding on by a thread.

“Say please,” you murmured, fingers gliding up his thigh as you leaned in.

Bucky moaned—low and wrecked—his head falling back to thump softly against the mirror.

“Please. Just—baby, please.”

You didn’t give him what he wanted. Not yet.

Instead, you reached down and pressed your heel between his thighs again—light, teasing, right to that sensitive spot that made him jolt.

“The gala might have to wait.”

His breath stuttered hard, hands twitching at his sides. His hips rolled instinctively toward you, seeking contact—anything—but you just leaned back slightly, keeping your eyes on his.

“God,” he whispered, voice frayed. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You smiled sweetly and slid your palm up his length in a slow stroke—then let go completely.

“Not until I’m done with you.”

“You’re so hard,” you whispered. “And I’ve barely done anything to you.”

You watched him—so big, so ready to fall apart for you—and felt a flicker of nerves beneath the thrill. You weren’t used to this. Not like this. But the way he looked at you?

Like you hung the moon.

You straightened your shoulders slightly. Let the confidence follow your voice.

Instead, you slowly stepped back, out of his hold. The sharp click of your stilettos on the hardwood made him visibly flinch, like even the sound of them had power over him now.

“Down,” you said softly, letting the word hang in the air like smoke.

You weren’t sure what you expected. But the way he froze—chest rising, mouth parted—told you everything.

He wanted this. Wanted you like this.

His brows drew together—hesitant, breathless.

“Kneel for me, James.”

You didn’t say it again.

You didn’t need to.

He sank slowly, towel loosening around his hips as he dropped to his knees in front of you. You stood tall above him, completely bare but for the heels and the towel draped across your damp hair. One step forward, and he was level with your thighs—your heat, your scent—everything.

“Look at you,” you murmured, tilting his chin up with your fingers. “Big, dangerous super soldier, and yet you’re right here. On your knees. Just ‘cause I told you to.”

His eyes were wide, lips parted. You watched his cock twitch again, hard and leaking against his stomach.

You shifted your weight, lifting one leg slowly and placing the pointed tip of your heel right between his thighs. Just beneath his balls.

“God—” he gasped, hands twitching on his thighs, unsure where to place them. “You’re gonna fucking destroy me.”

You didn’t answer.

You dragged the heel up lightly—slow, deliberate—over the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. His breath hitched. The sharp press made the muscles in his thighs jump, like his body couldn’t decide if it wanted more or to pull away.

“You like this?” you whispered, eyes locked on his.

He whimpered. Whimpered.

You did it again—just a graze, the tip of your heel trailing up to the crease of his hip before you slid it back down. His cock twitched again, leaking now, desperate.

“Your cock’s such a slut for me,” you said, voice dipped low and cruel-sweet.

You didn’t even know you had that tone in you. But the way he whimpered—his thighs trembling, breath stalling—it did something to you.

He squeezed his eyes shut, chest heaving. “Please—”

“Aw, baby,” you cooed, tilting your heel just enough to press into the tender flesh inside his thigh. “Didn’t know you liked being teased like this. Thought you were the one who liked calling the shots.”

His throat bobbed, lips trembling with restraint. “I didn’t know I’d like you like this.”

Your smile was pure wicked delight. “Poor thing.”

You grazed the heel up again—closer this time, letting the tip ghost along the underside of his cock. Just a whisper of contact.

His whole body jerked. A cracked, broken moan slipped from his lips.

“Needy little thing,” you muttered, stepping closer, letting your calf brush his shoulder. “You wanna come already, don’t you?”

He nodded—frantic, wrecked.

You stood tall behind him, watching the muscles of his back flex as he breathed hard, towel barely hanging on. He was beautiful like this. Obedient. Thighs tense. Cock flushed, twitching, untouched.

But your confidence flickered—just for a moment. Your power felt so sharp, so new.

Your voice softened. “Bucky…”

He turned slightly to glance at you over his shoulder. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

You swallowed, heel tapping lightly against the floor behind him.

You didn’t mean to sound unsure, but it slipped out anyway.

“What… what do I do next? If I wanted to really ruin you?”

His eyes nearly rolled back at that. “Fuck,” he groaned. “You say shit like that and I’m close already.”

That response? That gave you permission to keep going.

You stepped in front of him again, brow furrowed, lips parted with the weight of wanting. “Tell me.”

Bucky’s breath hitched. He sat back on his heels, looking up at you like worship. “Start slow. Use your hands. Don’t let me finish.”

You blinked. “That’s mean.”

He smiled weakly. “Exactly.”

You knelt—carefully, heels still on—sitting with your thighs spread just enough for him to see how wet you were already. His gaze dropped instantly, groaning again.

“You want me to just… touch you?” you asked, hand reaching out toward his flushed, aching cock.

“Please,” he whispered, desperate. “Just not enough. Just enough to make me lose my fucking mind.”

You wrapped your fingers around him gently—slow, reverent. His hips bucked, and he hissed through his teeth.

“God,” you whispered. “You’re so hard…”

You stroked him slowly, deliberately, eyes wide and focused on the way he twitched in your grip. His cock pulsed with every pass of your hand, leaking at the tip. He moaned low, broken, head falling back.

“You look so pretty like this,” you murmured, voice growing steadier as you watched him unravel. “On your knees, begging.”

“Don’t stop,” he groaned.

But you slowed. Thumb grazing under the head, teasing the slit. He cried out softly, hips jerking again.

“Sweetheart, please—don’t play fair. Ruin me.”

You leaned forward and dragged your tongue slowly up the underside of his cock—one long, deliberate stroke, just to taste him.

Bucky choked on a moan. “Fuck, fuck, do that again—”

You licked again, kittenish and slow, then placed a kiss to the flushed head. He whimpered.

Then stopped.

“Wait—baby—” His voice cracked. “Don’t… don’t let me come. Not yet. Please—keep me there. Just right there.”

You pulled back instantly, lips slick, eyes wide. “Like… this?”

You stroked him again, faster now—then stopped just as he started to pant.

He looked wrecked. Eyes glassy. Lips swollen from biting them. Chest heaving.

“Yes. Just like that,” he gasped. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Think I like seeing you like this,” you murmured, brushing your heel against his thigh again. “Whimpering. Barely holding on.”

His cock jerked helplessly. “I can’t—baby, I can’t take it—”

You leaned in, whispering at his ear, stroking him again just to the edge. “No coming, Bucky. Not until I say.”

He nodded helplessly. “Yes. Yes, ma’am.”

Your breath hitched. You felt that.

He was shaking now. Begging under his breath. You watched every muscle in his body tense and tremble—every pulse of his cock in your hand.

And still, you denied him.

“You wanna come so bad,” you whispered. “But I’m not done watching you beg.”

He looked up at you—face flushed, jaw slack, eyes half-lidded.

“Please,” he breathed. “Tell me what you want. I’ll do anything.”

You stroked him once more—firm and slow—then let go completely.

His hips twitched. A full-body jolt. His breath hitched on a raw, cracked moan.

You tilted your head. “You’re leaking again.”

He looked down, eyes wide with humiliation—because yeah, he was. The flushed head of his cock was glistening, dripping onto his own thigh like his body couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“I haven’t even touched you in a minute,” you whispered, awe curling around your voice. “You’re just leaking for me.”

His chest heaved. “I—I can’t help it—”

“Oh, I know you can’t.” You leaned in close, lips brushing his ear. “Look at you. All this from me in heels and a few soft strokes? That’s all it took to get you like this?”

He whimpered. Fucking whimpered. Shoulders hunched like the shame turned him on even more.

“I didn’t know you could get this pathetic,” you whispered, trailing a fingertip up the underside of his cock—barely touching. “But I like it.”

He gasped.

You watched in real time as another thick bead of precum dripped down his length—unprompted, untouched. His thighs were trembling now, muscles strained from trying to hold back the orgasm clawing its way up his spine.

“I feel like I’m gonna come,” he groaned, broken and frantic.

You leaned back, watching every desperate twitch. “You’re not allowed.”

“I know,” he choked. “I know, I know—but baby, please—”

His whole body was shaking. Cock flushed, painfully red at the tip. He was grinding the air just barely, involuntarily chasing friction he knew he wasn’t allowed to have.

Then you saw it—another thick drip of precum pulsing from him. His voice was wrecked now, barely intelligible.

“I’m gonna—fuck, I’m leaking—I can’t stop—baby, I can’t—”

His head dropped forward, resting between your thighs as he moaned—low and hoarse. He was panting like a man being edged at gunpoint—back arched, cock jerking helplessly, tip leaving wet trails across his own abdomen.

You didn’t let him come.

You just held his face, gently, fingertips brushing his stubble as he trembled between your legs.

“You’re so good for me,” you whispered. “Look at you. You haven’t even come, and you’re already falling apart.”

His hands clutched at your thighs like a lifeline.

“Say it,” you murmured, thumb brushing his cheekbone.

He looked up at you, red-faced, eyes glossy.

“I’m yours,” he breathed. “Fuck—I’m yours. Ruin me however you want.”

You smiled.

You didn’t expect to love this—holding him like this, guiding his pleasure like it belonged to you.

But you did.

“Good.”

Your thumb brushed along his jaw as he panted, face still buried against your thigh, cock pulsing and flushed, still leaking.

“Hey,” you whispered softly, voice different now—lower, steady. “You’ve been so good.”

Bucky whimpered.

You tipped his face up gently. “You wanna come, baby?”

His eyes fluttered open—wet and desperate, like he didn’t believe you yet.

“Yeah?” you asked again, more tender now. “You want me to let you?”

His lips parted. “Please. Please, sweetheart—I need it. I need to come so bad, it hurts.”

You kissed his forehead.

“Then do it,” you whispered. “Come for me.”

He didn’t even need to touch himself.

Just your voice—just that permission—was enough.

He groaned, head falling forward again as his hips jerked once, then twice, and—

“Fuck—fuck—I’m coming—”

Thick pulses of hot cum spilled across his belly, each wave shaking his thighs. His whole body shuddered from it, like the dam had snapped wide open and he couldn’t stop if he tried. You held his jaw, watched him fall apart so sweetly—muttering your name under his breath like it was the only thing he remembered how to say.

And when it was over—when the last twitch left his muscles and he sagged against you, boneless, breathing hard—you whispered,

“You okay?”

His breath hitched with something like a laugh. He leaned his head against your chest, still catching up.

“I think I just found religion.”

You smiled, threading your fingers through his damp hair. “You liked that.”

“I loved that,” he whispered, still dazed. “Didn’t know I needed it—being owned like that. You… making me hold back, making me ask for it?”

He looked up at you, cheeks flushed and glowing, a little awestruck.

“Felt like I gave you everything,” he said. “And you took care of it.”

You kissed him again, softer this time. “I did.”

And he let out a breath like a man reborn.

[sh1-n0bu]

imagine dating an older man this, imagine dating an older woman that COWARDS🗣️ imagine being an older woman and having a younger guy astronomically DOWN BAD (for all intents and purposes, this is a joke. i am not an older woman, nor am i shitting on ppl who love aforementioned relationship dynamics, this is just a horndogged thought)

imagine being an older woman, who never really saw the appeal in romantic or sexual relationships, only focusing on what was ahead of you. the job, adventures of life, education, academic achievements and your own personal hobbies, pastime enjoyments and relationships other than the romantic or sexual ones. there was more to world and life than just that after all, even though your friends’ nagging of when you will reveal the secret guy, or when you will find someone to settle down etc rang out during nearly every night outs, surely giving you a grey strand or few. really, you just… weren’t interested at all. there were rarely anyone who caught your attention and those who did were only appealing to the eyes rather than the heart

sure, there were some boys who would saunter up to you at the bar or cafe with their smug little faces and annoying attitudes, talking some shit about how they like their women like a silver fox, talking about how you were a beekeeping age, or even the stupid ‘i like my woman who are as old as my momma’. useless little things being said as a means to get a single night stand. you’d always tell them off with some backhanded insult, sharp words or how this wasn’t the predator franchise

one thing led to another and one of your closest and longest lasting friend had downloaded a dating app on your phone for you. something something about how you were in the perfect age to settle down now and if not, at least go out on a romantic date for once rather than taking yourself out on dates or with the ladies. you decided to humor them, keeping the app and adding very minimum information about yourself, work, hobbies and what not before kicking the acknowledgement of the app’s existence into the back of your mind

many DMs and snaps were sent to you of course, the usual beekeeping age bullshit. the rare few men who would be around your age range would end up being married, had a fiancée or in an odd form of relationship. you made sure to get their partners’ phone number and name before blocking them, calling them or texting them to notify them that their partner was a cheating bastard and had a dating app. “it’s their relationship, not yours!” most would say, but ladies gotta look out for one another in your opinion. made a pretty few sweet friends that way too

it was one of your slow and peaceful weekends when your phone dinged, another DM text in that accursed dating app. though instead of the usual annoying half-assed flirts or dick pics, it was a simple compliment. ‘good eve, ma’am. i just wanted to say that you look breathtaking. have a nice night, ma’am’ was all it said, a reply to one of the pictures you had added to the app for the introduction part. surprisingly straight to the point and respectful, so with a shrug and a ‘might as well give it a shot’ thought, you messaged back with some words of gratitude. something that quickly derailed into a nice normal conversation and getting to know each other texts. checking his profile, you found out that he was basically in the same position as you. forced by some of his friends to grow outside his shell, few pictures and simple descriptions, just a few years younger. safe to say, he was your first match in that damn app

life continued on, weekdays and weekends switching in their endless circle and you and your dating app friend had gotten close. it truly did felt like he was a nice mannered young man and when he asked if you would be willing to go out on a date, you agreed. nothing wrong with putting the dating app to its original intents and purposes. he was sweet, planned nearly everything with your added thoughts and preferences and had let you enjoy a nice dinner date, all freshened up and smelling of a sweet cologne with a decent suit. perhaps this whole dating app thing was a good idea after all, even as he stuttered sometimes and tripped over his words upon seeing how gorgeous you were, you thought of him as oddly cute

one dinner date turned into a few dates, then park, movie and hobby dates and before you two had known it, the whole thing had shifted smoothly into a relationship. things taken slowly at your own preferred pace, no use of rushing or getting down and dirty. it was a good relationship and possibly the best one you had so far, you'd wager. even your sweet boyfriend - as much as you both occasionally laugh and joke how it was unfitting and even a little bit young and childish for your age - had gotten used to this shift in life, comfortable with making you breakfast in bed on the days you have a work off or just sleeping in, making your coffee just the way you like, eggs cooked to fit your needs on a crispy toast, a pancake, with an adorably whipped cream drawn smiley face. it was just perfect

but of course, there were the occasional moments when your boyfriend nearly destroyed these perfect moments — at least, in his opinion. waking up in the morning before you, and seeing your sleeping face, all peaceful and calm with the grey streaks in your hair and the laugh lines on your face did things to him. you just looked so ethereal, basking in the glow of the morning sunlight, like the reincarnation of aphrodite. and before he knew it, he had a morning wood, quickly scuffling out of bed and towards to bathroom to take care of his problem before you woke up

or when you’re showing him the latest dress you bought, or any clothes really, just peacefully showing him what it looked like on you as you twirled in front of him and gods, you were so breathtaking. all he could do was just nod dumbly like the lovesick puppy he was as a weak ‘uh-huh’ escaped his lips. oh, the little pooch of your tummy, the rolls on your sides, the love handle, the hipdip — whatever these things were called, good god, he wanted nothing more than to just slink down from the couch onto his knees and politely ask to bury his face into them. let him touch them, the little fats on your body, the rolls, the pooch. he’ll lovingly caress them and your stretch marks and everything with reverence

or when you’re testing your new lipsticks on his face, applying the newly bought make up on your gorgeous, kissable lips before smooching him on the face, turning him more and more into a painting of your doing while he drunkenly sits there on the couch with a stupid fucking smile. oh no, this one wasn’t kiss proof either, better try all of them and see if they’re kiss proof too. oh he was covered in lipstick? don’t worry, nothing big. he’s just too busy admiring you and occasionally wondering how the color would look in its perfect kiss shape on his leaking dick while you mocked him for being a horny dog

maybe he slipped up one day, instead of thanking you usually with the sweet nickname after you had done fixing his tie for him, just idiotically smiling at you as a “thank you, mistress” dropped from his lips. an immediate freeze and after a moment, his face was turning red with an embarrassed apology after apology while he hid his face into the crook of your neck. not like you minded too much, just laughing and patting him on the back, reassuring him that it was fine, mistakes happened. though, you won’t lie, it was adorable in the sexy way on how he just let that slip out

ever since that little incident, your sweet boyfriend’s longing grew worse and worse. their hands started to wander more, squeezing, pinching and pawing hopelessly against the fat rolls of your tummy or gripping at your love handles with an eagerness of a puppy whenever they came to stand behind you while you made dinner. damn near sliding towards you on their knees to help you put on your shoes before you leave the house for work and have mercy on him if you choose to wear high heels that day, placing your heel between his thighs while his other hand gently guided your leg by the ankle to slip into the heel. he thought he was being slick but no, you caught it all. of course you would, he was damn near whimpering nowadays every time you come home all exhausted and collapse onto the couch, scrambling over and getting on his knees to massage your tired feet while his adam’s apple bobs while staring at your meaty thighs, mindlessly nodding and going “uh-huh” while you ramble about your day while your pretty boyfriend just wishes he was that goddamn stockings, snug around your legs

it was during one of these days that you decided to take pity on him — how could you not? his pathetic puppy eyes had you wrapped around his fingers — moving your leg out of his hands and instead hooking it over his shoulder. pulling him closer by your leg towards your thighs while you shift down more to place yourself closer to the edge of the couch. pretty eyes blinked up at you with a stuttered, “h-honey…?”, hands placed on his knees like the good boy he is while a pretty pink color bloomed on his cheeks. you just gave a roll of your hips on the couch, a sweet smile and a “my thighs feel exhausted too. help me out?” and he was immediately nodding his head vigorously, shaky hands grabbing and gently squeezing the fat while his breath grew shaky. god, he could see the lace edges of the stockings under your skirt now! and even more, he could see your panties. god help him, he was growing hard in his boxers like some stupid teenager seeing a woman’s boobs all over again

“a little bit up” you called out, watching his reactions with the same smile, lipstick covered lips spread wide on your face. your boyfriend whined instead of following through with your words, peering up at you through his pretty lashes. his hands pushed your skirt up, enough to take in your panties and stockings in full view as he gulped down his saliva, muttering out a weak “m-may i taste you, ma’am?”. the honorific instead of your name or the usual patnames just seem to fall from his lips so easily now, eyes constantly switching from your pretty face and colored lips and to your underwear and the fat of your thighs covered by the heavenly nylon

“you wanna taste me, pup?” you hum out, voice like a sweet honey or the finest red wine and have mercy on him, the idiot merely lost it right then and there, ready to lose any sense of dignity as he nods his head with an obedient “yes ma’am, i would like to taste you ma’am”. you simply cooed at his eager words, the leg thrown over his shoulder pulling him closer to the couch, closer to the heaven between your thighs as you balance your feet on his shoulder. he whined again at how you were teasing him, refusing to give him a solid answer and just toying with him like he was a canary trapped in the fangs of a cat. but he might as well be a willing canary that flew into the jaws of the feline with the way he cutely adds a final, “please allow me, ma’am…?” and damn near cheers a loud excited whoop when you nod at him, giving him the green lights

your boyfriend lets out a stuttered breath through his lips when he pulls down your panties, even folding them sweetly and placing them beside your legs on the couch like the sweet boy he is, when he sees your pussy, covered in the same color of bush as your hair. gulping again, he trails gentle kisses up your legs, from the lace ends of your stockings and up the bare skin of your legs, making sure to kiss the stretch marks he comes across before he finally nuzzles his face into your bushy mound. weakly, he licks at your folds, as if this was his first time eating out a woman and occasionally suckling at your clit. he was just so adorable with how he tenderly kisses and suckles and licks at you, like he had never felt the touch of a woman. so when your hands grasps at his hair, scratching at his scalp once before pulling him flush against your pussy, he downright moans against you before diving in like it was his final food. slurping at your wetness and eating you out like you were his last meal while his two fingers pushed your labia open, whimpering out words of “t-thank you, ma’am, thank yo-you for letting me touch you” and “you taste mmgh so sweet, ma’am.. i aamgh l-love your pussy juice s’much”

when you do cum into his mouth after his excited tongue and finger fucking you open, he opens his mouth eagerly to taste every single drop of your sweet pussy juice, already addicted to the taste and scent of it from just a single taste. his fingers continue to massage your soft walls, thumb swirling over your clit in gentle motions while his free hand pushed down on your lower tummy, pleading you to cum again and to get his face wet with your slick like he was some pathetic toy for you. only when you patted his head at last with a “good job, pretty boy” did he pull his fingers away — albeit with heavy disappointment — as he drawled out “th-thank you, missus. i’m glad to be-be of use to my missus” with his lips and jaws dripping with some of your cum. you laughed at seeing that look on his face, pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed and his hair a mess with your slick all over his jaw. seems like your pretty boy was a messy eater

first time writing smut for my female readers, this was truly a shift in my writing ngl. as you can tell from the smuts on my blog, im more comfortable writing for a gender neutral reader, top reader and im sure most — or at least half — of my readers feel comfortable with that norm as well. but lately cough cough a bit of rp on c.ai with cod character bots with my older oc cough cough ive gotten addicted to the thought of being an older woman and having a younger man just whipped for you and decided to challenge myself with writing for a femdom reader. and by younger, i mean within a decade of years age gap, preferably within 5 years even. nothing too serious. hope you all liked this small brainrot and the dividers belong to @/cafekitsune

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

Oh god its giving rich CEO Wanda so bad

---

"Darling?"

God, her voice sounds just as expensive as her clothes, rich and perfectly pleasant in your ears. You feel your heart start to race, excitement filling you.

"Up here," you call, listening to her heeled footsteps on the stairs as she makes her way towards your home office.

You can sense her before she even speaks, your eyes flitting over to her figure in the doorway as your fingers still on the keyboard. Holy fuck she's beautiful.

Those last words must have slipped out, because Wanda chuckles and smiles at you, her eyes crinkling in the corners. She steps further into the room, glancing at your screen to see your emails pulled up.

"Almost finished?" Wanda asks, sliding an arm around your shoulders and leaning in. "I'll be waiting for you in our bedroom, I'd finish the workday quickly if I were you. I dislike being... impatient."

You've never emailed quicker, your fingers flying over the keys as you write brief sentences. Your wife is waiting.

---

"Oh, fuck yes, baby. Just like that," Wanda moans, arching her back as you press into her from behind.

Your hands squeeze the swell of her ass, pinning her hips down as you slowly work your strap in and out of her eager, wet pussy. The sounds it makes are downright sinful, and you feel your own arousal leaking down your thighs as you fuck into her.

"Tell me what you want," you murmur in her ear, gently sucking on the sides of her neck as she rocks back into you, working your strap deeper.

Wanda begins to speak, but the second she opens her mouth, you grab the back of her beck and gently shove her face into the pillow, smothering her words as you start to move. Your hips pound mercilessly, her arousal coating your strap and thighs, leaking onto the bed as you angle your hips to hit her g-spot with every thrust.

"Go on," you rasp out, your breaths ragged as you fuck her. "Use your words, Wanda."

A strangled gasp sounds out, Wanda's hands gripping the sheets above her head, not daring to move lower, for fear of you bringing out the restraints. She attempts to speak, your hand cool around her throat, fingers squeezing gently as her very thoughts leak out between her thighs.

"Uh, fuck..."

You chuckle, thrusting deeper as Wanda's words fade into low moans, her eyes rolled back as her body goes limp from pleasure. It turns you on, to see her so vulnerable, so malleable beneath your hands. You can feel your orgasm building, so you click on the vibrator resting on the nightstand, and bring it firmly under Wanda's hips to press against her clit.

Wanda moans, her chest heaving as she arches her back, unconsciously grinding harder against the toy as you whisper words of encouragement in her ear.

"That's right, Wanda. Let go. Cum for me, baby. I know you can."

"You had such a long day, huh? Let me make you feel good, lets get rid of the stress, okay?"

"Now, baby. Cum now. I know you want to, it'll feel so fucking good, just trust me. Cum.

[romanovthinkver]

What about Nat taking you for the first time, being soft and careful but losing control for a bit and filling you up to the brim 🥴

sorry for the wait anon, i needed to get rid of my uni things, but here we go! it came out longer than i imagined, hope you enjoy either way!

warnings: sex scenes, dom/sub dynamic, g!p nat, daddy!nat, p in v, gxg, breeding, blowjob, fingering, orgasm, age gap, dirty talks.

daddy! nat was a completely a soft bear during your first time. you weren’t nothing but an inexperienced little virgin thing and natasha was this older woman who clearly had lots of sex in the past.

she took so much care of everything. the bed had towels for the eventuality of blood loss, bottles of water were lined up on the bedside table, the room was in the right temperature, a hand towel ready to wipe you off and she already set items ready for the aftercare. everything was under her control and ready to assure every of your comfort.

wet, needy and ready you were on her big bed being eaten and stretched out for the first time, at every whimper of discomfort natasha would softly hush you and press a kiss on your thighs. she was slow, lovely, giving you time to process and let her taste you in the most delicate ways.

natasha could’ve swear she would have been happy to die between your milky thighs with her mouth and fingers deep inside you, the sweet taste of your juices tempting and the most sinful sounds rolling off your tongue were driving the older woman drunk and lustful.

she was there with you, living the moment, living the passion, living the love flowing between you. starting to memorise your body that eventually became her favourite place to be, to mark, to own.

her knee sunk into the bed and while you were worshipping her plump breasts, she was jerking herself off with grunts and moans. your pussy was soaked thanks to the two orgasms she already gave you.

she shifted both of you on the bed, her back propped up against a mountain of pillows on the bed. fully naked, skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. her breath came in shallow gasps as natasha watched you, who was positioned between her legs.

natasha’s cock was standing erect and ready as you leaned closer, breath hot against the warm flesh. you kissed the tip hesitating, lips soft and teasing. your daddy eyes fluttered closed momentarily, a low groan escaping her lips.

“oh, bunny,” she breathed, her voice thick with desire.

your tongue darted out, feeling bolder to giving the tip a series of playful kitty licks looking up at the redhead for guidance which was immediately given as big veiny hands found their way into your curls, gently tugging to guiding your movements.

“look at me, baby girl,” natasha commanded, her voice firm yet tender. you obeyed, gaze locking with her and slowly taking the cock in your mouth starting with just the tip, tongue swirling around it before starting to take more, inch by inch like a drug.

the woman’s hips bucked involuntarily, desperate to thrust deeper into your wet and welcoming mouth, hands tightened in your hairs, trying to maintain control. “take it all, bunny. I want you to take every inch.”

your eyes filled eventually with tears as the cock reached the back of the throat, but you didn’t pull away because you wanted to make your daddy proud, so you relished the sensation of pleasing her, the power and submission blending into a heady mix that made your own body tingle with arousal. bobbing head, cheeks hollowing as you sucked, tongue working the length of the massive venous cock.

natasha’s breathing grew ragged, her moans louder and more desperate. “fuck–you’re amazing, baby girl. just like that.” her fingers twisted in your hairs holding you in place firmly.

you could feel the twitching of the prick as the heavy balls of the woman prepared to release its contents, you redoubled efforts, mouth moving faster, eyes never leaving natasha’s. the connection between you was electric, the intensity almost overwhelming.

“daddy needs you to swallow, bunny,” natasha growled, her hips trembling with the effort to stay still, she was so close and only god knows how she wanted to pin you down and fuck your mouth with mercy. “can you do that for me?”

you nodded as best you could, eyes filled with determination and devotion. with one final, deep thrust, natasha released her load, filling your mouth with the warm, sticky cum. you gagged slightly but quickly composed yourself, swallowing every drop as your daddy had commanded.

the redhead whole body shuddered with pleasure as she watched you. “that’s my good girl. you took it so well, baby.” pulling you up for a kiss, your mouths meeting in a passionate, messy collision. the taste of the cum was still on your lips, and natasha licked it off, savoring the flavor.

"you're so beautiful, baby," natasha murmured against your lips. she kissed her way down to your body again and her thumb found your clit, teasing your folds. you moaned softly, body arching towards the woman.

natasha made sure you was wet enough, she was so worried to hurt you like you were made of glass. patting the tip of her cock against her pussy and brushing the tip gently over her entrance, she breathed softly "are you ready, my little one?.”

you nodded with eyes filled with trust and need. "yes, daddy. please."

the redhead positioned herself and slowly pushed the tip inside you, inch by inch, ensuring you didn't feel too much pain, her lips found yours in a slow, sweet kiss, muffling your mutual groans of pleasure and then finally she bottomed fully inside you.

"you're doing so well, princess," she praised, her voice tender and head resting on your neck, you were so warm and tight and natasha was already on the brick of blowing. she kissed you softly while you gripped at her back with nails digging in slightly.

natasha, once sure the pain went away, began to thrust gently, setting a slow and intimate pace. each movement was filled with love and adoration, her hips moving rhythmically against yours. "you feel so good, bunny. so perfect.”

you whimpered, body trembling with pleasure and need for more. "daddy! oh–more, more. please!”

natasha increased her pace gradually, her thrusts becoming more intense. "fuck–baby, i need to cum inside of you. i need to fill you up, sweet girl. daddy needs to claim you." she continued to move, her body pressed intimately against yours until she felt the climax building.

with a final thrust, the redhead released the cum inside your warm pussy, humping softly to ensure it stayed within you. "take it all, princess. you're so good for me," natasha praised, her voice full of pride and affection.

foreheads touching, breath ragged and sweet smiles painted your lips and bodies locked close, natasha caressed your hair, kissed you gently, and whispered sweet nothings. "you're my everything, bunny. you did so well," her voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

she kissed you deeply again and again. your connection building stronger than ever, as you held each other close, the world outside fading away in the warmth of your shared love.

[thecowboyfiles]

Robert was having a bad day - or more specifically a bad week. You could tell it was coming, the way that he started sleeping all day but throughout the week it just got worse and worse and at least three times you had to change the sheets because he had refused to get out of bed even to go to the washroom

You didn’t mind, you knew that sometimes things got like this, and that it was best you didn’t push him. pushing him would only result in this depressive episode lasting longer, if not for anything but sheer defiance. It got all the way till late Sunday night, and you had started to worry that this episode was going to last for more than this week. That is… Until Robert slowly pulled the blanket back from over his head and peered up at you with empty eyes.

“I want you,” he says, barely above a whisper, voice from having not talked all week. You open your mouth to question exactly what he means but he doesn’t give you the chance to answer. He almost flinches like the sound of your voice might hurt him. When he’s sure you won’t speak, he grabs onto your wrist, tight and bruising, guiding your hand down under the blankets to his soft cock. “You make me feel good, I wanna feel good,”

The desperate pleading in his voice is what makes you wrap your fingers around his cock. You would do anything to make your boy feel better and if this is what he wants, you would do it, even with his pushing his face into your neck, where you both lay on the bed, smelling faintly of dried piss and body odor.

Rob whines softly against your skin and bites his lips so he stops any noise that might make its way out.

At that, you began to stroke him slowly. As pleasing as it was to have him hot and hard in your hand, you were still so very worried about hurting him or upsetting him in some way.

Robert lets out a shaky breath, hot against the crook of your neck. "Yeah, that's good; that's really good, baby." He breathes quietly, eyes fluttering shut.

“Whatever you need, darlin’,” you murmured and leaned over to kiss his cheek. You didn’t speed up your touches. While Robert had asked to cum, your goal was still aimed more toward supplying him with comfort and pleasure. You were in no hurry.

Robert isn't trying to rush it either; he isn't bucking his hips up or pushing at you verbally. He's content to half sit and half lay there, panting softly and soaking up the steady strokes of pleasure.

“You’re doing so good,” you murmured softly, praising. You paused what you were doing to rub over the head of his cock slowly, gathering up precum to help the glide as you began to stroke him slow and steady once more.

Robert shivers as he whimpers softly, and his panting picks up just a fraction at the newer sensation of the smoother glide.

Sshh,” you remind softly, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. The only thing that can be heard in the room is his pants and the muffled sound of skin sliding against slick skin, slow and rhythmic.

"Feels so good." He murmurs, careful to keep quiet, still not asking or pushing to speed up. He turns his neck as much as he can to bury his face back in the crook of your neck and starts to kiss there, wanting to muffle any noise and also give you some pleasure.

Tipping your head up, you automatically shifted to accommodate Rob, humming softly at the feel of his mouth, letting your eyes close as you kept up the slow strokes, root to tip and back. In the quiet of the night and the softness brought on by having Robert close and relaxed in his head, You let yourself go as well. All that mattered was Robby was against you and the slow glide of his cock in your hand. You lost track of time like this, just enjoying that you could give Robert such soft and gentle pleasures.

Robert isn't sure how much time passes; 20 minutes, maybe? An hour? He feels like his brain is half asleep, but he feels a tight curl in his stomach and pulls away from you. "I… think I'm gonna cum."

You don't stop moving, just hum softly and smile. “If that is what you want right now, then cum. If not, I can stop and wait until you are ready again.”

Robert nods; typically, he would never turn down the opportunity to be edged, the resulting orgasms were always the best he's ever had, but he's feeling too fuzzy and wonders if this was a wrong choice and if he should've taken the cuddles instead.

“Use your words, darlin’,” You remind him, pressing a kiss to his temple. Pushing just a little since he seems so responsive.

"I want to cum, please." He answers softly, reaching over to slide one hand up your shirt just to feel.

You nod and kiss him gently, continuing the slow and steady strokes, the slide now easy from all the precum he had leaked. You shifted when Robert tugged on your sleeve. You didn’t stop stroking, just slipped your other hand down to cup the head of Robert's cock so you didn’t make a mess and end up having to do another load of laundry.

It only takes a few more strokes before Rob shouts a muffled moan into his hand, fingers curled around his mouth, spilling thick white ropes into your hand. “Sshh,” You murmur against his temple. “That’s it, baby. Give me all you have…” You stroked Rob through each wave of his orgasm, milking him of every drop of cum.

Toes curling under the blanket, Robert shivers as you milk him. He felt good, of course, he did, but it wasn't the blackout knock of pleasure that came after a really intense scene. He wasn't unsatisfied; it just wasn't the satisfaction that he was used to, specifically with you.

Pulling your hands away before he tipped over into overstimulated, you pressed a kiss to Robert's jaw before you sat up and barely hesitated before you lifted your hand to your mouth and began to clean it of the cum.

After, you grabbed a tissue and finished cleaning your hands off. Then, you reached out to cup Robert's cheek gently, thumb stroking.

"Think you can rest now, sweet boy?" you asked with a soft smile. You knew you weren't out of the woods yet, but at least he felt better for now, even if it didn't last.

-> I adore everyone who reads and reblogs, ❤ if you like this, please think about showing a little extra support. I would love to be able to get groceries for my dad🥰 <-

[cherry-pop-elf]

Imma just leave this here for yall….

Just…..gonna leave this here…..