Decaf.☕️🤎

This story begins after your death. It’s the story of how you were claimed by the hellhound Steve Rogers on Halloween.

Your death—and your subsequent imprisonment in hell—wasn’t really your fault, but that’s what happens when you were the human sacrifice offered up to a demon by a group of men seeking more money and power than they knew what to do with.

It’s a tale as old as time: the men were granted their wish, and your soul was taken, as payment, to hell. And it was just your luck that the demon your soul was sold to, Asmodeus, has been looking for new whores to add to his pleasure house. 

Which was how you ended up becoming the newest attraction in hell’s most popular glory holes.

Days passed strangely in hell, with no sun or moon to mark the passing of time, and so you didn’t know how long you spent in Asmodeus’s pleasure house, whether it was weeks, years, or a millennia. Eventually, it all blurred together, time ceasing to matter as you played your part as entertainment.

The pleasure house was the biggest in all of hell, servicing the underworld’s entire echelon of lesser demons. Since you were still one of Asmodeus’s newest acquisitions, you were relegated to the glory holes, though he often promised that if you were a good enough hole for his patrons, you could work your way up the hierarchy of whores. 

But so much time had passed, it seemed, and all you’d done was rotate through the various positions in the glory hole rooms, where the lesser demons could use your holes for their pleasure. You’d begun to lose hope—you’d begun to accept that your afterlife would be nothing more than this. 

Truthfully, it wasn’t all bad. 

The incubi and succubi who visited the pleasure house always made sure you came—mainly because it was how they fed—and the shadow creatures could be surprisingly gentle, though they could spend an entire, exhausting eon edging you until you came so hard you passed out.

But at least that meant you got a little peace, even if demons continued to use you while you were unconscious. 

Of all the lesser demons that frequented the pleasure house, the fiends were the worst. They were the ones that made you hope to one day earn your way out of the glory holes, so you could service some of hell’s greater demons and escape the fiends.

What made them the worst was their need to inflict pain in order to get off. 

They’d leave you covered in bruises and marks from their claws—but that wasn’t as bad as the awful things they said to scare you. The fed off your fear, and they loved to spin tales of how much worse it was beyond the glory holes, how you should be happy they were the worst you had to deal with.

Eventually, you learned to like the pain the fiends inflicted, but their words sank deep into your bones until fear was as constant a companion as the patrons of the pleasure house. It made you yearn for and dread the day everything would change. 

That day turned out to be Halloween. 

All Hallows’ Eve was the only day of the year you ever marked in Asmodeus’s pleasure house, solely because it was when the glory holes were practically deserted. With the veil between hell and earth so thin, demons preferred to torment the living instead of the whores in the afterlife. 

There were still a few demons milling around Asmodeus’s glory holes, but you were enjoying a moment of respite, the screams of your fellow whores an almost lulling soundtrack as you let your mind drift numbly. You tried not to think of how your life had been cut short, and the terrible circumstances in which you’d found yourself in your afterlife.

Then, suddenly, your instincts came alive, an awareness like the tip of a sharp knife blade trailing down your spine, and you focused on your surroundings. 

There—you heard the heavy tread of a greater demon in the hallway outside the room, and to your astonishment, it stepped into the room. 

It was rare that a greater demon would visit Asmodeus’s glory holes. Unlike lesser demons, they could afford the steep prices of renting an entire whore for a night—perhaps even a whole room of whores, if they so wished.

In all your time in the pleasure house, you hadn’t ever been visited by a greater demon, and you suddenly wondered if your soul would survive it. You might already be dead, but you’d heard tales of a second death, one that was even a mystery to the residents of hell. 

If anyone could manage it, it was a greater demon.

Greater demons were much bigger then lesser demons, their size reflecting their status and power in hell’s hierarchy. The bigger the were, the more powerful.

Whereas lesser demons were more or less the same size as humans, which meant they were manageable and less likely to harm your soul, greater demons were monstrous. Some were so massive, they could tear you apart, leaving your soul destroyed.

Each step of the greater demon into the room rattled the chains holding you captive, the iron cuffs around your wrists connected to bolts on either side of your little compartment. The walls shook just as much as the platform on which you lay on your back. 

The hole in the wall was big enough for your waist to fit through, but small enough that you couldn’t see the demon on the other side. It made the moment even more terrifying, that you couldn’t see the greater demon that had entered the room.

Your body trembled while the lumbering steps moved closer, and you instinctively tried to close your thighs on the other side of the wall. The cuffs around your ankles bit coldly into your skin, keeping you chained so your legs were spread wide open, your pussy on display and completely vulnerable.

The greater demon came to a stop, and the quiet cacophony of the room filled your ears—the obscene noises of rutting demons and squealing whores sounding loud in the sudden absence of his steps. 

You heard the greater demon give an arrogant scoff before he roared, “GET OUT!”

Even though you’d known the greater demon was there, the strength and power of his roar made you jump, a sharp cry of surprise tearing from your lips before you could bite it back. You felt immediately foolish for such a fearful sound, especially since you could practically feel the greater demon’s attention snap to you.

Your teeth sank deep into your lower lip as you bit back a whimper, your ankles rattling the chains holding your thighs open when you felt the demon’s gaze roam deliberately over your plump thighs and swollen pussy. It felt like he was assessing your suitability for his needs, and you’d never hoped so desperately to be found lacking.

Finally, the greater demon’s gaze moved away from you, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

“I want my pick of the litter, Asmodeus,” the greater demon growled, clearly unhappy that the lesser demons in the room hadn’t cleared out like he’d ordered. They’d simply gone on fucking, lost in their own worlds. “Get this riffraff out of my way.”

“Of course, sire,” Asmodeus said, and you could easily picture the obsequious smile that stretched across your master’s handsome face. 

Three sharp claps sounded within the room, ringing in your head. Then the demon’s voice filled every crevice of the room and your little compartment, forcing you to pay attention to the words.

“Please exit through the door behind me,” Asmodeus commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument despite how polite his words sounded. “You may make use of any other glory hole rooms, but this one is closed.”

There was a good deal of grumbling on the other side of the wall, and the wet sound of cocks being pulled from mouths, pussies and asses. You could even make out some questioning sounds from the other whores, despite the magic that prohibited you from communicating with one another. 

It took a few moments for the room to clear out, and when it was only the greater demon and Asmodeus left, your master spoke to the other. “The room is yours, sire. Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do to make your visit more enjoyable.”

Asmodeus’s quick, light steps retreated and the door to the room snicked shut, the distinct sound of the lock turning making your heart pound a little harder. Then you, and the others, were left alone with the greater demon—and all his wants and whims.

It occurred to you that you didn’t know what type of demon he was, but you didn’t have to wonder for long. The greater demon dropped forward onto all fours, magic crackling in the room as he transformed, and he begun prowling along the wall. His sharp, snuffling inhales were the only sounds in the room.

He was a hellhound, you realized, and you couldn’t fight the whimper that rose up your throat, choking on it as it tumbled from your lips. 

Again, you felt the demon’s attention dart to you, the beast’s gaze feeling heavier and hungrier as he eyed your trembling thighs and weeping pussy. For a long moment, it stayed fixed on you before it skated away and he returned to the hole he’d been inspecting.

In all your time in hell, you’d never encountered a hellhound, but you’d heard of them. The fiends liked to torture you with stories of the whores who’d been ripped apart by hellhounds, their souls too small and weak to withstand being knotted by the great beasts.

Over time, you’d pieced together the history of hellhounds, how they’d begun as simple hounds tasked with chasing down souls owed to hell. However, they’d evolved over the millennia. They’d grown smart enough to take on a human form, allowing them to easier pass in the world of the living and better hunt down souls.

But hellhounds had the ability to shift into their beast form at will, retaining their sharp minds and competency with speech. They were a formidable force, and had worked their way up the hierarchy of hell, their beast forms growing more and more monstrous as they gained power. 

Hellhounds were ruthless, and they cared about little else besides getting their job done and rutting anything with a hole tight enough to be ripped apart by their massive cocks. To hear the fiends tell it, there wasn’t a single human soul that had survived being knotted by a hellhound.

And now there was one prowling closer and closer to where you were tied down and helpless to the greater demon. 

All you could do was pray that he didn’t choose you, that he didn’t intend on ruining the soul of every whore in the room, and have faith that, for once, your prayers would be answered.

Unfortunately, you didn’t have that kind of luck.

It felt like the hellhound spent a short age skulking around the room, scrutinizing what was on offer, but perhaps that was your anxiety and fear making time move more slowly. 

Finally, the beast came to you, his large snout surprisingly soft and velvety as it snuffled down the line of your thigh before lingering near your pussy. His warm breath puffed against your swollen folds, and your body gave an involuntary shiver of delight.

To your great shame, desire gathered like dew on a flower petal between your folds, and leaked down the line of your slit. Unable to do anything but tremble in your chains, you felt a drop of your arousal drip onto the snout of the hellhound. 

The heat of his tongue barely brushed against your warm, swollen folds as he licked your taste from his nose, and you gave a pitiful, almost soundless whimper. Unbidden, the desire grew within your belly, your body aching to feel the monster’s tongue on your cunt. 

A deep, rumbling purr sounded between your thighs, sending your thoughts scattering to the wind. The sound was so low and close to your soft pussy that it fluttered with excitement. You knew the hellhound could sense your body’s response, because its purr kicked up a notch, like the beast was smiling.

You could barely process the flare of pleased pride that bloomed to life between your ribs at the thought of making the hellhound smile before the flat of the creature’s tongue pressed against your pussy. He licked a long, firm line up your weeping slit, from the tight rosebud of your ass all the way to your achy clit.

“Ahh!” The cry of pleasure was ripped from your lungs before you could think to stop it, your spine arching up off the platform where you lay. 

Your hands and feet tugged uselessly at the chains holding you down, but you weren’t trying to get away. Pleasure had  momentarily chased your fear away and your body was moving instinctively to trap the beast’s head between your thighs. You wanted more of his tongue, you wanted the scorching pleasure he had to offer.

The monster let out a husky chuckle that sounded more beastly than human, and lapped at your pussy again. Delightful tingles danced beneath your skin everywhere the hellhound’s tongue touched, making you squirm and writhe beneath his ministrations, seeking more. 

“So responsive,” the hellhound purred against your wet, heated flesh. 

He licked your clit with quick, furious lashes that had you crying out again, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes at the overwhelming pleasure of his hot tongue. Your skin dug mercilessly into the iron cuffs holding you, but you didn’t care, bucking your hips to chase the beast’s tongue.

“Do you like that, pet?” he asked, sounding unbearably patronizing even through the animalistic growl of his voice. “Do you like the way I lick your pretty, puffy pussy?”

God help you, but you did, and you knew it would be your downfall. Because, despite all the warnings of the fiends who’d told you that the hellhound would only destroy you, you were tempted to tell the truth. You wanted to tell him that you loved the feeling of his tongue on your body—that you even desperately wanted more.

You tried to bite your lip against answering the beast’s questions, believing that the truth would damn you to a fate worse than working in Asmodeus’s pleasure house. No matter how bad the glory holes were, it couldn’t possibly be worse than what the hellhound would do to you.

However, the monster took your silence as a challenge, and he chuckled like he was all too happy to meet it—to torture an answer out of you.

The hellhound pressed his tongue more firmly against your pussy, dragging the hot length through your folds, dipping briefly into your hole, before swirling around your clit and nipping at your aching bud with his sharp teeth. When you didn’t break and babble your answer, he huffed another laugh and did it again—and again and again.

All you could do was bite your bottom lip harder, your moans and whines muffled as you panted like a bitch in heat for the hellhound, but still refused to answer him. Your entire body shook violently as the beast pushed you steadily closer and closer to the edge of oblivion, but no matter how you humped against his snout, you couldn’t get there.

“Tell me, pet,” he crooned, his bestial growl reverberating through your cunt and making your mouth fall open on a pitiful moan. “Tell me how much you love my tongue, and I’ll let you come.” He gave your pussy another long, lingering lick. “Maybe I’ll even let you come home with me.”

The thought should’ve sent fear stabbing through your heart, but your body betrayed you—your pussy gave an excited pulse at the idea of going home with the hellhound. It took a great deal of effort for your mind, which was growing quieter and quieter the longer the beast’s tongue was on you, to remember why that wasn’t what you should want.

Besides, it didn’t matter what you wanted. Your soul belonged to Asmodeus, and he’d made it clear when he’d claimed you and brought you to hell that you’d never be anything but one of his whores.

The creature’s teeth grazed your swollen folds as he pushed his tongue deep into your hole, fucking you better than any of the lesser demons who’d tried to give you pleasure, and you whimpered wantonly. It felt so good, you almost forgot how dangerous the hellhound was to your soul.

“Aw, pretty pet, have you already been fucked too dumb to talk? Is that the problem?” The hellhound’s voice was filled with condescending sweetness, which only made your pussy flutter more with desire.

He lapped wildly at your cunt, burying his snout against your clit as his tongue thrust deep inside you, fucking you with the hot, squirming length. In moments, he’d pushed you to the edge. Then, suddenly, he pulled back, refusing to let you fall into oblivion’s embrace.

Feeling bereft, your pussy so wet and aching and needy, you sobbed loudly. It was on the tip of your tongue to tell him how much you liked it, the truth wanting to spill free, and the beast must’ve sensed it.

“Say it, pet,” he purred, the commanding words uttered against your cunt, like the hellhound knew that was the way to your soul. “Say you fucking love my tongue.”

Something inside you broke—whether it was your survival instinct or the numbness protecting your heart, you couldn’t say—and you gave in to the hellhound.

“I love it!” you cried, sobbing with frustration from your denied release. You squirmed on the platform, chasing the beast’s snout and wordlessly begging for more as the truth spilled from your lips. “I love your tongue, sir! Please, fuck me with it, make me come. I’ll say anything you want, do anything you want, just fuck me—please!”

“Good pet,” the hellhound purred against your pussy, burying his snout back against your heated core.

He worked you with his tongue, fucking you deep and hard while his sharp teeth ground against your clit. In mere moments, he drove you back to the edge, oblivion threatening to consume you whole. 

But again, before you could tip over the edge, he pulled away, growling, “Beg me to keep you. Beg me to take you home with me—beg me to make you mine.”

Your mind was too far gone to protest. All you could do was what the beast commanded and hope he’d finally let you come. That was all that mattered in that moment, not your soul or who you belonged to, only your pleasure.

“Please! Please, sir, I—oh fuck,” you cut off on a groan, the hellhound’s tongue diving deep into your pussy. His hot tongue fucked your tight cunt so good, you lost your train of thought, fighting to keep going. “Keep me! I’ll be your perfect pet, please, take me home and make me yours!”

Your words devolved into a sob, tears of need streaming from your eyes and down your temples while your hips writhed as much as you were able through the hole in the wall. Instinctively, your body bore down on the beast’s tongue, trying to match the rhythm of his thrusting.

But instead of giving you the release you so desperately yearned for, the hellhound pulled away again—and you screamed in frustration. The piercing, broken cry tore from your throat so suddenly, you had no hope of biting it back, but it only seemed to please the hellhound.

“Pretty pet, perfect pet,” the creature rumbled between your thighs, a depraved smile dripping from his sharp teeth. “Sound so pretty—sound like mine.”

The hellhound’s snout brushed your clit, making your body jerk and a sharp whine spill from your lips. The praise in his bestial voice sent delicious tingles of delight dancing down your spine, but it wasn’t enough. 

“But you can beg prettier than that.”

“Please,” you mewled pathetically, your voice thready with need. “Master…” The word slipped so easily from your lips, you barely noticed it, until the creature growled a deep, pleased sound.

“Mm, good pet,” he praised, and you could hear the satisfaction in his animalistic growl. “More like that.”

Your heart clenched beneath your ribs and your pussy pulsed at the encouragement from the hellhound. You did as he commanded and begged as pretty as you could.

“I want to be yours, master, please—make me yours,” you pleaded, your voice thick with tears of desperation that wanted to spill down your cheeks. “Take me home, keep me forever. I’ll be so good for you, I swear, I’ll be yours, all yours, only yours!”

The hellhound hummed a sound of acknowledgement. He nonchalantly licked your slit, seeming to enjoy the way you bucked and trembled and mewled for him. After a long, frustrating moment, he flicked his tongue over you clit, making you choke on a gasp.

“Well, since you asked so sweetly,” he murmured, making your heart leap at the thought that he might finally allow you to come.

Your hope barely had time to take root before the hellhound was pulling away. You didn’t even have time to whine in protest because, in the next breath, he sank his sharp teeth into the meat of your thigh.

A scream so piercing, so ear-splitting it made your head ring, tore from your lips as pain sliced through your body. It twisted through you so violently, twining with the lingering pleasure of the hellhound’s tongue, that you came. 

You shattered apart like a glass bottle filled to bursting, your scream blending into the next as pulses of exquisite pain-edged pleasure coursed through your body. It was so overwhelming, so devastating, you had to cling to consciousness by your fingertips. 

All the while, your pussy clenched pathetically around nothing. Unbidden, you desperately wished you’d had a thick cock and bulging knot filling you up, giving you something for your cunt to squeeze. Something in the depths of your soul told you it would feel so good to be knotted by the hellhound…

“That’s a good pet,” the hellhound murmured against your skin, pulling his teeth free and licking the wound he’d left behind. “You come so pretty—made such pretty sounds while I marked you as mine.”

It took a moment for the beast’s words to permeate your pleasure-drunk mind, and when they did, you already felt a pleasantly warm tingling spreading from the place where he’d bitten you. It should’ve worried you, but you were too lost to the lingering bliss of your release to wonder what his words or that feeling meant.

Before your pleasure had fully begun to ebb, the hellhound pulled away from between your thighs, and you felt the crackle of magic in the air again. 

In the next breath, a cock plunged into your still weakly clenching pussy, and you screamed as you came again. It was a sudden, and more sharp release, tearing a broken cry from you, your throat already feeling raw from how much you’d sobbed and screamed for the monster.

“Oh fuck yeah, that’s good,” the hellhound growled, his voice sounding much more human. It was still pleasantly deep, a rich timbre that sent delicious tingles down your spine, and you liked it just as much as his bestial tone.

Belatedly, you realized he must’ve shifted into his human form, and you were surprised at the thoughtfulness of the gesture. He was big, even for a human, and if he’d still been in his monstrous form, you felt certain he would’ve torn you apart. But he’d chosen not to.

A more cynical voice in your head reminded you that demons never did anything out of consideration for others, which meant the hellhound must have a selfish reason for fucking you in his human form—though you couldn’t think of what it could be. Maybe he was just keeping you alive to torture you later…

“Your pussy feels as good as she tastes, pet.”

The hellhound’s words brought you back to the moment, and the warmth in his voice made you feel oddly proud for earning his praise. You offered a tentative, “Th-thank you, master,” in return.

A distinctly human, albeit much larger than normal, hand slid down your unmarked thigh, in what felt like an affectionate gesture. His touch was warm and almost gentle as it stroked down your soft skin, coming to a stop on your lower belly.

He pressed down, making you feel his cock more acutely. 

The hellhound was bigger than any of the lesser demons you’d had, and even though it was a tight fit, it wasn’t uncomfortable. His cock was thick enough to steal the breath from your lungs, and long enough to hit a spot deep inside your pussy that made you clench when his tip brushed against it. 

Altogether, he felt…perfect. More perfect than you ever hoped to find in hell, and you didn’t know if you could trust it. But you wanted to.

“Do you like my cock, pet?” the hellhound asked, as if he could somehow read your mind. 

For a moment, you panicked that he really could before you remembered that wasn’t one of a hellhound’s abilities. But there was one you’d forgotten about—his sense of smell.

“I can smell you, pet,” he explained when you didn’t respond. “I can smell the way you’re dripping with new desire just for my cock. So I’ll ask you again, do you like my cock?”

“I do, master,” you whispered, hoping your honesty would earn you some favor with the monster.

But, for some reason, you couldn’t leave it at that. The hellhound’s cock felt too good, and something deep in your heart urged you to continue, to tell him the full truth of it.

“You feel…” you began, trailing off as your hips squirmed, fucking yourself experimentally on his thick length. “Perfect.” The word slipped from your lips on a contented sigh, a smile curving the corners of your mouth as you settled back onto the platform.

You hadn’t felt such peace as you did while impaled on the hellhound’s cock since you’d been taken to hell. It was such a foreign feeling, it took you a long moment to name it. And once you did, you let yourself submit to it—submit to the hellhound himself.

“Good girl, pet,” the creature cooed from the other side of the wall, his thumb finding your clit and petting it sweetly, earning him a keening moan. “You feel perfect, too,” he murmured, his voice so low you wondered if he was talking more to himself than to you. “Almost too perfect to be real.”

Before you could gather the courage to ask what he meant, the hellhound began to move. He withdrew from your tight heat slowly, making you feel every inch of his thick, veiny shaft, before thrusting back inside and dragging a sharp cry from your lips.

“That’s it, let me hear you, pet,” the monster urged.

He set a brutal pace, his hips clapping against your thighs as he fucked you through the glory hole, every thrust smacking against the bite marks on your skin and sending dizzying pain-edged pleasure dancing through your body. 

“Tell me—tell me how much you fucking love being split open and fucked by your master’s cock.”

“I love it, master!” you cried happily, your hands rattling the chains holding your wrists. You wanted to grab hold of the beast fucking you, you wanted to wrap your thighs around him and hold him tight and never let him go. “I fucking love your cock, love how you’re stretching me open—it’s so good, master, ‘m gonna come again!”

The hellhound let out a delicious, devious chuckle. His thumb tapped your clit lightly, brushing it teasingly, winding you up with the barest of touches while he pounded into your tight cunt. All you could do was squirm, panting and whining for more, as you clawed closer and closer to your release.

“Do it, pet,” the hellhound growled. “Come all over your master’s cock, show me and everyone in this cursed place who you truly belong to.”

With his other hand, he pressed his fingers into the teethmarks he’d left on your thigh, and the sharp spike of pain twisted violently with the pleasure of his cock. You were weak to his dominating pleasure and pain, and in seconds, you were done for. 

Another wretched scream dragged itself from the depths of your soul, filling your small compartment on your side of the wall with the earth-shattering sound as you came. 

Your cunt clenched down viciously on the monster’s cock, sucking him deeper, as if your body was begging for the hellhound’s knot. The greater demon moaned loudly, obscenely, his satisfaction dripping from the sound, and even more pleasure pulsed through your pussy, feeling a perverse sense of pride at making him feel so good.

“Fuck, pet, you’re so tight, feels like you’re sucking me deeper, s’like your pretty cunt wants my knot,” the hellhound growled.

He was sounding less and less human by the second, but you didn’t sense the magic that meant he was shifting. He was just getting closer to his own release, losing control as he took his pleasure in your body.

“Do you want my knot, pretty pet, want me to stuff you full to bursting withe come, then plug you up so it doesn’t spill out?”

“Yes, master!” you cried without thinking. All the warnings the fiends had given you had long since fled from your mind, leaving only a bone-deep need to be knotted by the hellhound. “Knot me—knot my tight little pussy, master, make me yours! Please!”

“Fuck, you’re too fucking perfect—fuck!” 

The hellhound snarled, sounding furious as he pulled free from you still-clenching pussy. With a monstrous roar, the creature came, his come erupting from the tip of his cock and spilling across the same thigh he’d bitten. Rope after rope of come lashed your skin, coating both your thighs until you were dripping with him.

You were so focused on listening to rumbling purrs of satisfaction and the wet sounds of his fist stroking his cock, it took you a moment to notice the tingling sensation in your thigh. Some of the throbbing pain from the beast’s bite marks began to abate, and it almost felt like the marks were healing, supernaturally stitching together.

A low, mournful moan slipped from your lips at the feeling, and a desperate part of you hoped that whatever was happening, it wouldn’t remove the marks entirely. You wanted something to remember the hellhound by after he inevitably left you behind in the pleasure house.

After all, he was a greater demon and you were nothing more than a common whore of a soul. 

Even after all his talk about how perfect you felt, and how he wanted to take you home and make you his, you didn’t really believe he intended to follow through. Demons said a lot of things they didn’t mean during sex.

Besides, it didn’t matter whether he really did want to make you his. Asmodeus owned your soul and he’d never allow the hellhound to keep you.

So, you might never get to go home with the hellhound whose name you didn’t even know, but you hoped at least he’d leave his mark behind. It would be a reminder of the best sex of your life—and your afterlife. 

With a sad sigh, you closed your eyes, praying to keep the tears gathering between your lashes at bay at least as long as it took the hellhound to leave. His heavy breathing on the other side of the wall had evened out and you tried to prepare yourself for him to abandon you to your fate at the pleasure house.

To your surprise, though, he spoke. His voice had lost the animalistic growl he’d had while buried balls-deep in your body, and he sounded much more calm and collected when he muttered, “Asmodeus, come.”

It made you snicker to hear your demon master spoken to like a dog, the tears receding from your eyes as you curiously tuned in to what was happening on the other side of the wall. 

Though you’d tried to be quiet about it, the hellhound’s hearing was sharp enough that he must’ve heard your mirthful sound, because his hand dropped to your unmarked thigh, giving you what felt like an affectionate squeeze.

Your heart thumped happily in your chest in response, and you had to remind the silly organ not to be so fond of the hellhound. Even though he hadn’t left immediately after he was done with you, it didn’t mean he was serious about taking you home with him—no matter how much you wanted it to be true.

A moment later, the owner of the pleasure house—and your soul—stepped into the room. “What can I do for you, sire?” he asked, his voice seductive in the same way as a snake oil salesman’s.

“I’ll take this one’s contract off your hands,” the hellhound said, sending a jolt of surprise straight through your heart. You held your breath, barely daring to hope. “I’m taking her home with me,” he said, patting your thigh and leaving no room for confusion about who he meant.

Tentative excitement flooded your body at the prospect of escaping the glory holes and being taken in by a beast who seemed much more caring and attentive than your current master. Inexplicably, your soul yearned to belong to the hellhound, and you were so happy that it seemed to be coming true.

Still, the rational side of your mind reminded you Asmodeus was unlikely to give you up so easily. He owned your soul for eternity, per the contract with the men who’d sacrificed you to him, and it would require a steep price to sell your soul to another demon.

“That’s not—This isn’t…” Asmodeus stammered, seemingly caught off guard by the hellhound’s offer. He went silent and you heard him taking in a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was smooth, but cold. “My whores are not for sale, sire.”

The honorific was bitten off like a curse, but the hellhound didn’t seem rankled. In fact, he chuckled, like the other demon’s protests were nothing more than child’s play.

“This one is, and I’m buying her.” The hellhound’s words were friendly enough, but there was a bite to them, like he was snapping his sharp teeth, and you could practically hear Asmodeus recoil. “Either that, or I’ll take her by force. Don’t let it come to that.”

By the end of his warning, the hellhound had abandoned all pretense of friendliness, his words dripping with violence the way you imagined blood might drip from his sharp teeth. Something about the way the hellhound spoke filled you with an immense amount of pride—he was a fearsome demon, you could tell, and his warning wasn’t to be taken lightly.

Thankfully, Asmodeus was smarter than he looked and sounded, and he quickly acquiesced to the hellhound’s demands.

With a few snaps of his fingers, Asmodeus used his magic to unlock the cuffs binding you to your platform, and to transport you into the room where he and the hellhound stood. 

Your legs gave out as soon as your feet touched the ground, so unused to standing and so wrung out by your recent releases, you had no hope of keeping your legs under you. 

The hellhound deftly caught you around the waist before you could fall, and he gathered you up in his big, strong arms. Your bare, naked body was crushed against a hard body clad in silky satin, buttery soft cotton and deliciously decadent velvet—all in a deep, fathomless black.

Your eyes caught on the strong chest before you, lingering on the way the hellhound’s cloak draped so perfectly over his broad shoulders, the satin of his shirt clinging enticingly to the muscles beneath, unbuttoned enough to reveal a peak of dark hair against golden skin.

Lifting your eyes almost reluctantly, you looked up into the face of your new master—and couldn’t believe your good luck.

The hellhound was attractive beyond belief. Sun-kissed golden brown hair was swept back from his classically handsome face, a smattering of freckles dusted across the straight line of his nose. Crystal blue eyes, which looked like they were mined from the finest sapphires on earth, stared back at you, a spark of interest in their depths.

His human form wore a dark beard, which made him look equal parts distinguished and fearsome, even as it framed a pair of lips so inviting, you couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh of yearning. As you watched, the hellhound’s mouth quirked into a small smirk, like he enjoyed the way you were staring at his lips.

“I am Steve Rogers,” the hellhound said, his eyes roaming your face hungrily, and you were pleased to see he appeared to like what he saw. “What’s your name, pet?”

In a raspy voice, your throat still raw from all the screaming you’d done in pleasure, you gave him your name; he hummed in acknowledgement, turning it over on it his tongue, like a gem to be examined carefully. 

Unable to stop yourself, you asked the question that was plaguing your heart. “Are you really taking me home, m-master?” There was an eager note to your voice and you could tell Steve heard it by the subtle way he cocked his head.

“Outside the bedroom, you may call me ‘my lord’,” he said, calloused fingers smoothing over your face, gently rubbing the salt from the corners of your eyes where your tears had dried. “And yes I’m taking you home.” He cupped your chin, tilting your face up toward his so he could search your eyes. “You’ll live with me now, because I’m going to keep you forever, isn’t that right, pet?”

There was a somberness in his expression, and you got the impression that if you’d said no, or protested in any other way, Steve would’ve left you alone. But you didn’t want that—you wanted him. 

A tentative smile curved the corner of your mouth as you stared up into the eyes of the hellhound who would rescue you from the afterlife of your nightmares. He looked every bit your savior, even with the monster hiding within.

“Right, my lord,” you murmured, turning your head and pressing a kiss into his warm palm. 

Your eyes slipped closed as you inhaled his scent—something spicy and wild, as untamable as an whipping wind on an October night—and let the tension in your shoulders ease. The hellhound smelled right somehow, like he was yours just as much as you were his.

“Good pet,” Steve cooed, bringing you back to the moment, shifting his hand to stroke your cheek affectionately. 

Then he turned to Asmodeus, who was watching the two of you with a faintly sick look on his face. 

“Do what must be done to transfer her contract to me,” the hellhound commanded, taking off his cloak and wrapping it around your shoulders, swathing you in his warmth and scent. “Name your price—whatever it is, she’s worth it.”

You tucked your face into the plush velvet of the cloak at your shoulder, and breathed in Steve’s scent, letting it fill your lungs and bring peace to your mind. The gesture earned a fond stroke from the hellhound, his mouth curving into a smile as he looked at you. 

“At least let me wash her up a bit before you take her,” Asmodeus tried, and you stiffened in Steve’s arms, not liking the idea of being separated from him, even for a few moments to take a bath. 

Though your reaction might’ve surprised you, it paled in comparison’s to the hellhound’s response to Asmodeus’s suggestion.

“Leave her!” Steve roared, tucking you tighter into his body and turning away to hide you from the other demon’s sight. 

On instinct, your fingers undid a few buttons of Steve’s shirt and you slipped your hands inside, pressing against his hot skin. Your touch seemed to soothe the demon, and he visibly calmed, rolling his shoulders and swiping a hand through his hair while the other wrapped around the back of your neck. 

“I’ve marked her as mine,” Steve said, sounding just a touch sheepish. “She can’t be cleaned up yet or the mark won’t take properly.”

The teethmarks on your thigh tingled, and you almost snorted at the hellhound’s arrogance. He marked you as his before he’d even been granted permission by the demon who owned your soul. The master of the pleasure house could make things difficult for you and Steve if he wanted to—thankfully, he didn’t seem to want to.

Asmodeus heaved a heavy sigh, sounding like he carried the weight of the underworld on his shoulders, and gave a weary shake of his head. Then he flicked his wrist, conjuring a scroll of paper from thin air. He unspooled it, summoned a quill and handed the document over to Steve.

The demons completed the contract amendment transferring ownership of your soul over to Steve Rogers, signing their names, and then it was done. 

Before the ink was even dry, the hellhound lifted you into his thick arms, his supernatural strength and size making it easy. He gave you a moment to get settled, tucking his cloak in around your body, as he nuzzled your cheek. 

“Ready to go home, pet?” Steve asked warmly, brushing a sweet kiss to the apple of your cheek, teasing your skin with the roughness of his beard. 

You heard Asmodeus gag as he retreated from the room, and you couldn’t help but say a silent prayer the door would hit him in the ass on the way out. 

Once he was gone, you gave Steve your full attention, your fingers sinking into the coarse hair of his beard and pulling him close to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Yes, my lord,” you murmured against his mouth. “Take me home.”

If the hellhound bristled at being commanded by his pet, he showed no sign of it. Instead, Steve grinned fondly, and then he was whisking you through the pleasure house, bringing you to the portal that would take him anywhere in hell he wanted to go.

Steve clutched you tighter against his chest, then stepped through.

All the oxygen was sucked from your lungs, and if you’d still been living, you would’ve perished immediately. As it was, your head spun violently, feeling as though you’d been sucked up into the vortex of a tornado. 

It was a small eternity and less than a second before Steve’s leather boots landed firmly on the other side of the portal. 

“Alright, kitten?” he asked, his voice sounding fuzzy and far away. 

Your senses came back into focus slowly, your mind following the sparkle in Steve’s eyes and the curve of his smile back from the darkness that had threatened to drag you under. The hellhound waited until you gave him a nod and a smile in return before he began walking. 

Glancing around, you found yourself in a dark mansion, lit largely by the ethereal red-tinged glow that permeated hell. It had a vacant feeling, like it hadn’t been occupied in a while, but there were signs of life.

The dark wallpapered walls and even darker wooden floors were broken up by some pops of color—sensual art hung on the walls, violet and crimson plants on accent tables and shelves. Dark wooden furniture was upholstered with sumptuous black velvet, and gorgeous brocade curtains hung over the windows.

Altogether, it looked more cozy than dreary, and you hoped to get to explore, though it would have to another time.

Without stopping to let you look around, Steve strode through the mansion like he was on a mission. He carried you upstairs to the master bedroom, promising to give you a proper tour later. 

He tugged his cloak from your shoulders and spread you out on a massive bed, laying you down on black silk sheets and pillows that felt like the most luxurious clouds beneath your back. 

You took a quick, cursory glance around the room, finding it decorated in much the same way as the rest of the mansion, before returning your gaze to the hellhound. He stood at the foot of the bed, his blue eyes dark with hunger as they roamed purposefully over you body, taking in every inch of your naked form. 

“Gorgeous,” Steve growled, his handsome face twisting with a greedy sort of lust that had your heart pitter-pattering excitedly. 

When his gaze reached your thigh, it lingered. A dark, fathomless possessiveness flashed in his eyes as he stared at the marks he’d left on your skin.

Curious, you glanced down and saw it for the first time. 

Half of your thigh was dotted with the curved outline of teethmarks left by the impressively big bite of the hellhound’s bestial form. Something in your belly fluttered excitedly at the undeniable mark that had scabbed and scarred already, leaving what appeared to be a permanent brand on your skin the shape of Steve’s teeth.

Unbidden, and at perhaps the most inopportune moment, the warnings of the fiends resurfaced in your mind. All evidence seemed to indicate Steve wanted to keep you in sound health and mind, but you couldn’t help the little niggle of worry that the hellhound was just playing with his food before he devoured your soul.

“Are you going to kill me?” 

The question popped from your mouth before you could think to stop it, knowing how nonsensical it sounded—after all, you were already dead. Still, Steve was a greater demon, and he could certainly harm you more than a lesser demon ever could.

The hellhound’s head cocked to the side again and he looked at you curiously, his brows furrowed with confusion. “Why would you ask that, pet?”

His question was gentle enough, but you weren’t sure how to proceed—how much you should tell him about what the fiends had said. “I…”

Your gaze dropped from the demon’s handsome face to the satin shirt clinging to his chest. It was tucked smartly into tailored black pants, which revealed the bulge that had already begun to grow at the sight of you naked on his bed. 

You almost abandoned your question entirely, thinking Steve Rogers and his hellhound cock might be worth risking your entire being.

“You can tell me anything,” Steve said, his voice gently coaxing. Slowly, he climbed onto the bed, prowling up the length of your body until he face was above yours. His eyes searched yours intently. “Tell me.”

As if of their own accord, your lips parted and spilled your secrets to the hellhound. 

“Some of the fiends at the pleasure house would…tell me things,” you began, and once you’d started, the rest poured out in a rush between breaths. “They wanted to scare me, and they loved to tell me how lucky I was not to be fucked by a hellhound, because a hellhound’s knot would tear me apart, drive me insane, and destroy my soul—all of the above.”

For a moment Steve just stared at you, no doubt taking in the fear evident in your wide eyes and trembling lower lip. Then he heaved a sigh and lay down beside you, tucking you in against his chest while he wiped a hand down his face. You got the impression he was trying to tamp down on his frustration, and you waited for him to compose himself.

Once he’d regained control of himself, he looked down at you, his thumb stroking gently over your cheek. 

“It’s true that a hellhound’s knot is large—even larger when we’re in our hound form,” Steve admitted, his fingertips tracing the curves of your face and down the line of your nose, like he was learning the shape of you. “But it’s not anything you can’t take, I promise.”

You let loose a sigh of relief you didn’t know you’d been holding on to, anxiety melting from your body at Steve’s reassuring words and the gentle way he touched your face.

“Why would they say that, then?” you asked, your curiosity getting the better of you again.

Steve gave you a wry grin as his fingertips traced your bottom lip. You wanted so badly to nip playfully at him, but you were too eager for his answer to distract him.

“Fiends resent the way hellhounds evolved,” Steve explained. “We rose up the ranks of hell, and they’ve stayed at the bottom, even after a millennia.”

Before you could stop yourself, you huffed an indignant sound on Steve’s behalf. “Sounds like a them problem to me,” you muttered, rolling your eyes at the tiny egos of the fiends. 

Steve gave a deep, rumbling chuckle that had all the nerve endings in your body perking up, your nipples tightening as the gentle reverberations traveled down your spine. 

“Demons aren’t exactly known for taking accountability for their actions,” Steve teased, his voice light and sweet as he brushed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

Just that teasing touch had a soft moan slipping from your lips, and Steve pulled back, his sharp gaze watching you closely. Pouting, you turned your head and tipped your face toward him, wordlessly asking for more.

When he hesitated, as if wanting to make sure you knew what you were asking for, you whispered a soft, desperate, “Please.”

That one word from your lips made something in the hellhound snap; he closed the distance between you in less than a second, slanting his mouth to yours in a kiss.

Pops of color exploded in your mind’s eye at the first touch of his soft mouth against yours, delightful tingles cascading from the crown of your head down to the tips of your toes as you reveled in the perfect feeling of his kiss.

Then his tongue, hot and gentle, flicked playfully against the seam of your lips and you moaned, granting him entry to explore. Steve took everything you gave him, slipping into your mouth and stroking your tongue to tangle with his until the two of you were lost in each other.

For a long while, the two of you simply kissed, learning each other—what made you gasp, what made him groan—until the heat building in your body grew too insistent to ignore. Your arms circled Steve’s broad shoulders, fingers diving into his soft hair, and you pulled him on top of you.

“Clothes off, now,” you mumbled against the demon’s mouth, enjoying the delicious rasp of his beard against your cheeks. He broke away to brush tickling kisses down your neck and you whined, your fingers tugging insistently on the satin of his shirt. 

“Demanding little thing, aren’t you, pet?” he purred in that deliciously patronizing voice, and you hissed like a spitting kitten. Steve chuckled indulgently, like you’d lived up to the other pet name he’d given you, but was smart enough to strip quickly out of his clothes. 

When he was naked, Steve allowed you to push him onto his back. You straddled his body, perching on his thighs to get a good look at his human form. 

He was slightly larger than a normal man, but by no means as monstrous as the fiends would’ve had you believe. Still, he looked formidable, with broad shoulders and thick muscles cording his arms. There was a lurking danger to Steve Rogers that was a constant reminder of his status as a greater demon.

But sprawled on his back, a grin teasing at the edges of his mouth, he looked completely at ease. It made it easy to feel comfortable around him, to explore him.

Steve tucked an arm behind his head, propping himself up to watch as your hands wandered his body, tracing some scars lingering on his shoulders, fingers raking through the pelt of hair on his chest. He wheezed slightly when you dug your fingers into his abdomen, feeling the soft layer of padding covering the hard muscle beneath.

Then you reached his cock, which stood proudly between his tree-trunk thighs. 

It was so large, you could hardly believe you’d already taken it—and that you’d taken it so easily. Though, as you reminded yourself, you had been in the throes of a devastating release when he’d thrust inside you for the first time. No wonder it had set you off in a second orgasm when he’d done so.

Scooting forward, you pressed Steve’s thick cock against your body, the tip of him lining up with your belly button; your eyes widened, surprised all over again.

At the base, you could feel the slight bulge of his knot, which would inflate fully just before he came. Already, it was thick enough that when you wrapped both hands around it, your fingers didn’t touch. Your pussy gave an excited flutter at the idea of feeling his knot inside you, plugging you full while he filled you with come.

Still, you couldn’t help but voice the obvious question: “You’re bigger in your hound form!?” you asked incredulously, glancing up at Steve, who wore a self-satisfied smirk on his handsome face. 

“A little less than doubly as big, yes,” he said smugly, clearly very pleased with the size of himself.

You would’ve laughed at how arrogant he sounded if it weren’t for the tremor of trepidation that snaked down your spine. You knew Steve had promised you could take him, but you suddenly weren’t so sure. He looked so big already, you couldn’t imagine the cock and knot of his hound form fitting inside your human-sized cunt.

Steve must’ve sensed your hesitation because he sat up, gathering you in his arms and tipping your face toward his to look him in the eye. He gave you a reassuring smile.

“You’ve already taken me like this, pretty pet,” he reminded you in a warm, rumbly voice that had your toes curling in delight. “I promise it won’t hurt to take me in my other form—I’d never want to hurt you.”

He captured your lips in a sweet kiss, as if sealing his promise like a deal. 

You didn’t know if you should trust Steve’s word—he was a demon, after all—but he hadn’t given you any reason not to. Besides, something deep in your soul told you that he was someone you could count on. So you decided you were willing to take a leap of faith for the hellhound.

Having made your decision to trust him, you kissed Steve harder, pouring your faith into him until he was groaning, his cock twitching and leaking precum against your belly.

Without breaking the kiss, you rose up onto your knees, your fingers wrapping around his cock, just beneath the head, and lined him up with your dripping hole. You were wet again from making out with the hellhound and exploring his naked form, and it didn’t take much work to lower yourself on the full length of him.

Steve broke away from the kiss with a half-feral groan, harmonizing with the moans spilling freely from your lips. Then you began to ride him slowly, sensuously, taking your time because you had all the time in the underworld.

The two of you made the most of it, exploring each other further. 

Steve suckled on your tits, lapping the flat of his tongue over your nipples until you were whining in his lap, your hips jerking with each rough graze against your sensitive buds. The hellhound worshipped your tits in a way you’d never experienced before, sucking on your nipples and kneading your soft flesh until you were a limp, needy mess in his arms.

For your part, your hands roamed freely over the hellhound’s body, carding through his hair, down his corded neck and over his broad shoulders. You learned how his muscles bunched beneath his skin as he bounced you slowly on his cock, and how his eyes slid closed and his expression looked almost pained when you dug your nails possessively into his skin.

After what seemed like an eon, you felt Steve’s knot begin to inflate as he hurtled closer to his release, yours not far behind. Before you could be lost to the pleasure, though, you had a sudden need that took hold and wouldn’t let you go. 

“I want to try,” you gasped, the words bursting free from you before you could stuff the desire back down into the depth of your soul where it came from.

Steve lifted his head from your tits, revealing a smattering of hickeys that he’d bitten and sucked into your skin. It looked like the scatter of stars in the clear sky of an October night, and you were momentarily distracted while the hellhound blinked the lust from his dazed eyes.

“What’s that, pet?” he asked, his voice warm and a little slurred. 

Pride pricked at your heart and you couldn’t help the way your mouth curved into a smug smirk at the sight of him, the fearsome hellhound brought so low by your human pussy. It gave you the confidence boost you needed to tell Steve what you really wanted. 

“I want to take you in your hound form,” you explained, grinding idly on his cock, your hips restless and unable to sit still, especially at the prospect of taking Steve’s bigger, thicker cock and his monstrous knot. “I want to take your knot—your full knot.”

Steve went still beneath you, and he blinked a few more times, his gaze growing sharper each time. He looked at you closely, as if searching for any hint of the hesitation you’d shown earlier. But you knew better than he did that it was gone—he’d fucked it out of you with his human cock and you wanted more. You wanted all of him.

“You’re sure, pet?” Steve asked, one of his big hands pressing to your lower back to still your rocking hips. The other cupped your face, holding you like you were something precious and breakable. “We don’t have to do that today, we can do it whenever you’re ready.”

You were already shaking your head. Your mind was made up and your heart and soul knew this was what you needed.

“If we wait, the anticipation will eat me alive,” you told Steve, holding his gaze and imploring him to see the honesty in yours. “I want to take you now, I want to be yours—fully. Forever.”

Steve watched you for a moment longer, then a wolfish grin spread across his handsome face. He kissed you deeply, and you felt every bit of his passion and deepening affection as it poured past your lips. When you were breathless and restless with excitement, he finally pulled away and lifted you off his lap.

Magic crackled in the air of the bedroom as you watched Steve shift, the transformation so smooth and quick you could barely see the way his handsome face disappeared into the shaggy visage of a big, black dog. Still, you would’ve recognized those crystal blue eyes anywhere, staring at you with hunger and fondness. 

His hound form was massive and you suddenly understood the need for the big bed, but he didn’t look particularly scary—at least not with his familiar eyes and his tongue lolling adorably out of his mouth.

With a grin, you reached out and ran a had through the soft fur on top of his head, moving to scratch behind one ear. The hellhound’s eyes closed and he gave a contented, growly purr. 

“Mm, that feels good, kitten,” Steve rumbled, his voice more bestial again, like when he’d been eating you out in the pleasure house. 

For a moment, the hellhound reveled in your touch, and sat patiently while you petted him, exploring what spots were most likely to make him purr. But then you got a glimpse of his cock jutting out from between his hind legs, looking so big and thick and monstrous that you gave a sharp gasp.

Steve’s eyes snapped open and before you could get too intimidated, he pushed his snout against your shoulder, urging you to turn around. He arranged you on the bed on all fours, your head down against the silk sheets and your ass in the air.

You fought against the fear that wanted to sneak into your belly, reminding yourself Steve wouldn’t hurt you. You didn’t know how you knew, you just did. You had faith, you believed in him. 

Steve moved over you, mounting your body from behind, one of his forelegs wrapping around the front of your hips while the other pressed to the bed, holding himself up so he didn’t crush your much smaller form. 

His soft fur brushed against your bare back, the wild, spicy scent of him settling around your shoulders like his cloak had earlier, and you instinctively relaxed. Arching your spine, you presented yourself to the hellhound, smiling when he gave a purr of encouragement.

“Ready, kitten?” Steve asked, his claws digging lightly into the soft flesh of your hip. The mark on your thigh gave a throb, pleasure spreading to your core, and you nodded.

“Yes, master,” you purred, baring the length of your neck in the ultimate sign of submission. 

Steve’s purr deepened, sounding suddenly more satisfied, as he raked his sharp teeth over the base of your throat, sending goose bumps rising across your skin. But he didn’t bite down.

Instead, Steve pushed in from behind, and you gasped at the feel of him—he was so warm, so big and so…strange. His cock was hotter in this form, the tip of him more pointed. It made it easier for him to sink inside you, your body stretching to accommodate his thick girth.

“Good pet, taking my cock so well,” he purred, teeth nipping playfully at your shoulder in a way that made you smile and moan at the same time. “You’re squeezing me so good—fuck.”

The hellhound cut off on a curse when he bottomed out in your body, his monstrous cock buried to the hilt in your tight heat. For a moment, the two of you hung suspended in pleasure, in the rightness of the way your bodies joined together perfectly, like you were made for one another.

“Didn’t I tell you that you could take me, kitten?” Steve teased, his voice warm and growly and so self-satisfied you knew he was smirking, even in his hound form.

You huffed a laugh, though it sounded more breathless and desperate than you’d intended. It made Steve’s cock shift slightly inside you, the hot length of him rubbing against your sensitive inner walls and you forgot why you were laughing. All that mattered was the hellhound’s cock and the pleasure it promised.

“Oh fuck, Steve, you feel sooo good,” you moaned, trying to fuck yourself on his hard length. “I loooove your cock, master, love it so much, want to live like this, want to live on your knot,” you babbled, drool dribbling from your mouth to the silk sheets under your cheek.

“Careful, pet,” Steve purred, sounding much too pleased with himself—at least until his hips pulled back and he slammed forward, plunging deeper into your tight, hot cunt. “You’re sounding like a cockdrunk little slut already, and I haven’t even started fucking you properly yet.”

“Fuck me braindead, master,” you begged, the words spilling from your lips, all sense having fled from the first thrust of the hellhound’s cock. “Use my cunt for your pleasure, make me your perfect fucktoy, please!”

Steve gave a ferocious growl, snapping his hips and fucking you harder, more purposefully, but you knew he was holding back. Again, you didn’t know how you knew it, you just did, and it made you sob with frustration, even as pleasure mounted in your core.

“More,” you begged Steve, nuzzling against the paw planted beside your head. “Harder—please, Steve, I can take it!”

“That’s my fucking girl,” Steve purred against your cheek, his tongue licking the salty tears spilling from your eyes. “You’re such a perfect little fuckpet, aren’t you? And all mine. My perfect little fuckpet.”

“Yes, yes, yes, all yours, yours, yours,” you chanted, babbling nonsense as Steve pounded into you, imprinting the shape of his monstrous cock on the very fabric of your soul. 

It wasn’t long before you couldn’t form words any longer, your lips moving mindlessly as moans poured from your mouth, your body and mind submitting to the pleasure of being fucked by your hellhound. You’d never experienced such exquisite, perfect pleasure, and all you could do was give yourself to it.

“Come on my cock, sweet pet,” Steve growled in your ear, his snout nuzzling your cheek, tongue slipping into your mouth to taste your moans straight from your lips. “Let me feel you come before I knot this pretty pussy and stuff you full of my seed.”

The foreleg that had been wrapped around your hips shifted, his paw shoving between your thighs until his claw found your clit. He stroked your puffy pearl mercilessly, pounding you brutally with his cock, murmuring more words of sweet praise in your ear. 

The hellhound’s perfect cock and all that he did to you set you off like a rocket, shooting you into the ether and making you scream as you exploded into tiny, dazzling sparks of pleasure. For a moment, you lingered in heavenly bliss, unsure if it was real, before you came rushing back down to hell.

Your limbs were shaking uncontrollably, pleasure rolling through every muscle of your body, making your fingers and toes tingle with it. Wave after wave of white-hot ecstasy poured through you, the most wrecked, broken sobs of pleasure spilling from your lips.

It was only a second later, though it had seemed an eternity, when Steve roared his own release, spurred on by the way your cunt clenched violently down on his cock. He rutted deep into your body, his knot inflating quickly and stretching you to the point that you felt like you were being split open and stitched back together all at once.

With a scream that joined the roar of your hellhound, you came again, your bodies convulsing together, Steve’s forelegs holding you tightly pinned beneath his massive form while his cock twitched inside your pussy. He unloaded thick ropes of come inside you, so much that you felt beyond full with it.

For long moments, you floated in the aftershocks of bliss, feeling deliciously stuffed full, Steve’s knot keeping you plugged so none of his come dripped out of you. His cock kept twitching, emptying his balls deep in your cunt and flooding your womb.

When you were both finally sated, Steve rolled you onto your sides, where you could lay more comfortably together until his knot deflated. He pulled you close to his chest, your body tucked deep into his warm fur, the scent of him—even more wild in his hound form—making you hum happily and snuggle into him.

Glancing down your body, you saw your belly was slightly distended and round from all the come Steve had pumped inside you, and you stroked the little bump affectionately. 

Steve’s shaggy head lifted from where it lay and he watched your fingers, one of his forepaws joining you in petting the bump he’d made in your body. The rough scrape of his paw against your skin made you shiver, a soft mewl slipping from your lips.

“Careful, kitten,” he warned, his voice even lower and more rumblier with satisfaction. “You keep being so perfect, and I’ll have to put a litter of pups in you.”

Your heart thumped excitedly in your chest, and your pussy gave a weak, equally happy clench. Steve chuckled at your body’s response, the sound sending delicious little tingles of delight dancing down your spine.

“Oh, you like that idea, huh?” he asked, his voice warm with affectionate teasing. “Want me to knock you up with my hellhound pups?” You could hear a thread of uncertainty in his tone, and it made you eager to give him an honest answer.

“I do, my lord,” you murmured, barely having to think about it. Like everything else that came to your hellhound, you just knew. Turning your head, you pressed a kiss to Steve’s snout.

He panted happily, his tongue lolling out of his mouth at he gave you a particularly wolfish grin. Then he licked the side of your face, making you giggle and squirm, wringing a moan from your lips as you felt his knot tug inside your pussy.

Steve urged you to settle down again, and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence. It wasn’t long before the deep, steady breaths of the hellhound, his warm fur, and the perfect full feeling of his knot inside you lulled you to the edge of sleep. 

So this story ends on Halloween, with you falling asleep in the arms of your hellhound. It ends with the beginning of the rest of your afterlife.

Your life may have been cut short, and you may have started your afterlife as nothing more than a demon’s whore. But at Steve Rogers’ side, you build an afterlife where you’re endlessly happy, surrounded by the love and light you never knew in life.

The commute from the building where your last lecture was held to your off-campus department was 25 minutes on a regular day using your bike. In Bucky’s case, he took 15 minutes due to his way of driving his restored car.

You knew that.

Your roommate knew that.

That knowledge made it easier to predict when the other would arrive at the apartment. It helped to avoid awkward encounters, like the time he had found you making out and half naked, with your classmate on the couch. Or when you saw him butt-naked as he got out of the shower because he had forgotten his towel in his room.

The only flaw in this?

Yelena.

Yelena, your classmate and best friend, had started seeing a girl who lived near you. This meant that she could drive you home on her way to meet with her new fling.

The day that changed everything had been one of those days. Your lecture would be cut short, and Yelena had been texting Kate as soon as the professor had announced that the class would wrap up early. Leaving at that hour meant less traffic, and to your luck, every traffic light had been green.

“Is this our lucky day? Should we buy a lottery ticket?” Yelena exclaimed after the third green light.

Inside your building, your luck continued because Mrs. Park held open the elevator for you the moment you crossed the front door.

You arrived at your door 10 minutes before your class usually ended. You had just opened your mouth to let out your usual “Hey, Buck” to announce your arrival when you heard it.

A moan coming from down the hall.

You widened your eyes; your keys slipped from your grip, landing on the rug with a dull noise. You knelt to pick them up, eyes scanning the living room frantically.

You noticed Bucky’s books were scattered over the dining table. His reading glasses were there, forgotten by his economics book. A single can of soda was near it.

There was no sign of any other person inside the apartment.

Another moan.

You should have turned around and left, given him the privacy he needed, and come back later. But you didn't. You stood up, and with your keys in hand, you padded silently down the hallway to your room.

The door of his room was slightly open as you passed.

More whimpering, followed by a curse.

You should have ignored it, continued your path, and hid in your room. Instead, you froze, turning to the source of the noise.

Spread over his bed, Bucky was lying down over his covers; his sweatpants and boxers were rolled down to his knees, and his shirt was forgotten on the floor. His fist was gliding up and down his cock, neck exposed as he pushed his head back. His eyes were closed, mouth open, letting every whimper out freely.

Heat pooled in your stomach, your breath turned shallow and rapid as you watched him jerk off.

This was wrong.

You shouldn't be standing there, watching him, and much less getting worked up because of it.

He was your roommate. Your friend. Bucky wasn't even your type for fucks sake — he wasn't an athlete, with a chiseled body comparable to a Greek statue; he wasn't the most confident man out there either, smugly flirting with every skirt with legs.

Bucky was a textbook nerd. Always with his nose buried in a book, a cute stuttering mess, he triggered your cute aggression, not the I want to climb you like a tree and bounce on your cock type of aggression.

“Please, please —ngh,” He begged, tearing up.

You didn't know why you did it, but hearing his pleas broke your control. Carefully, you crept into his room until you were standing a few feet away from the foot of the bed.

In bed, his phone went off with an alarm he had set up before he had fallen into his lust. He reached his hand blindly, turning the alarm off, lost in whatever fantasy he had conjured behind his closed eyes.

You’ll be home in 10 minutes.

“Fuck, I need to — ah, please.”

“Do you need help?” You said softly, in the same tone you always used with him. Warm. Open. Sweet.

His eyes snapped open, finding you standing near him. Your name left his lips, neediness laced with each letter.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't — You're here early, you were supposed to…” He stuttered, covering his dick with his hand and reaching behind him to take a cushion.

“I can help you.” Your tote bag, filled with books, landed on the rug next to your feet with a thud, and your keys followed. He froze. “You said you needed something.”

His throat bobbed.

“Bunny…”

He said your nickname, the one he had started using after he had met you at Yelena’s birthday party in your first semester. You had been wearing a last-minute costume — white bunny ears with a simple white short dress — because your original one had gotten ruined early that day. Bucky had been hiding out on the second floor, nursing a can of beer and hoping that his friends wouldn't find him after dragging him to the party already. Since he couldn't register your name over the loud music, he had called you Bunny the entire party. From there, it had stuck.

“Tell me, Bucky. What do you need?”

“I—” He shook his head.

You tutted. “House rules, remember? Hmm? Always be honest with each other. Tell me.”

“I need… I need to cum. So bad…”

“Thank you for telling me.” You placed a knee on the mattress between his legs, and slowly, you climbed the bed. “Now, let me help you.”

“Bunny.” He whimpered when you removed his hand from his crotch.

“Let me. That's what friends do, right? Help each other out. Always.” You said, tracing your fingers along his leg, getting higher and higher. “Can I?”

“Bunny…”

“Bucky.”

“Please.”

You smiled, and then moved your hand over his length; his cock twitched in respond of your touch, beads of pre cum leaked out of his reddish tip.

“Tell me if you want me to do anything different, okay?”

He nodded, but he was still tense.

“Hey, you can close your eyes and imagine I’m someone else; I don't mind. This is just to help you finish.”

Bucky took a deep breath and threw his head back, closing his eyes. You leaned in, taking his cock in your hands; you began peppering kisses on its tip. Bucky moaned in response.

You dragged your tongue along the vein on its underside, and then you guided it into your mouth.

Bucky cursed, digging his hands into the mattress.

You bobbed your head up and down, slowly taking him inch by inch until you could take most of him into your mouth comfortably.

Bucky was big, with a girth that made your pussy clench in wonder at how it would feel inside you, stretching you until you were a babbling mess.

“Shit, I’m close.”

You hummed with him still in your mouth, agreeing with him since you could feel him throbbing. His hips jerked up in search of the warmth of your mouth; you increased your movements, your hands giving attention to his balls and stroking the rest of his cock.

“Bunny, bunny, I’m…” He groaned, and for the first time, he reached his hand to tap your shoulder.

You removed your mouth with a pop, and kept stroking him as you said: “It’s okay, you can finish in my mouth.”

Before Bucky could reply, you took him into your mouth again and down your throat until your nose touched his pubic bone. Tears gathered in your eyes at the intrusion, but you didn't care; you kept bobbing your head until he spilled inside your mouth with your name on his lips.

You kept sucking him until you swallowed the last drop of his seed, and he was too overwhelmed after who knows how much time he had been working himself up. You took him out of your mouth, feeling him softening in your palm as his breath steadied.

Once you were on your feet, you knelt down to take your stuff up and took his shirt with your hand. When he opened his eyes, he saw you wiping the fabric of his shirt on your mouth, cleaning every remaining fluid from your face. Then you turned around and walked to the door.

“Bunny, wait!” He rushed to put his boxers and sweats back on.

You looked at him over your shoulder, “Yes?”

“You can't go.” You raised a brow.

“You needed to cum, and you did. I helped you out, didn't I?”

“Yes, you did. But, don't you want to… talk about it?”

Even if his skin was all flushed, his pupils still blown, and his clothes were poorly on him, he looked at you with pure worry.

You smiled fondly at him. “We are friends, Bucky. Nothing has to change.”

“You sure?”

“Positive, now… can I go?”

He exhaled in relief. “Yes, you can. Thank you, Bunny.”

“Any time.” You grabbed the door to close it. “It’s your turn to cook dinner, by the way.”

“Right! Uh, pasta? My mom’s recipe?”

“God, yes, please. I’ll take a shower in the meantime; see you in a bit.” You closed the door behind you after hearing his goodbye and then rushed to your room.

Luckily for you, your room had its own bathroom, away from the door that led to the hallway, which meant that while Bucky cooked dinner, he didn't hear you masturbating in your shower under the sound of the running water.

Even if you tried to push the memory into a box and forget it in the back of your mind, you couldn't avoid replaying the scene in his room, nor the way he had moaned your name as he came. And you definitely ignored the way you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning his name as you fucked yourself with your fingers.

Once you were satisfied and clean, you left your room wearing your pajamas. During dinner, things were a little bit awkward, but it slowly got better as you fell into your familiar dynamic. He yapped about his next exam, and you ranted about your lecture that day. The conversation moved to the kitchen, as both cleaned before going back into your rooms.

You and Bucky just clicked together; you had done so since you met. Living together, even if it had been by pure luck — a month into your friendship, you had ranted that your landlord had raised your rent, and he had confessed he was looking for a place off campus; it had been a no-brainer to accept becoming roommates — had amped that. As the months and years progressed, you had gotten to a point where you understood each other and knew exactly what the other needed without the need for words.

He knew when you were stressed and needed silence, reassurance, or when you needed space. But he also knew when you were feeling homesick and needed a hug or a cuddle.

Two days after you gave him a blowjob, you learned that he also knew when you were needy and how to make you cum in record time.

You had been lying on the couch, reading a book on your e-reader after you had been stressing out over an exam. Bucky looked at you from his spot on the other end of the couch, where he had been playing a game on his phone.

“Everything okay there?” He asked, looking at you up and down.

You swallowed, shifting your legs again. “Yeah, why did you ask?”

“Bunny, house rules.” He rolled his eyes and put his phone on the coffee table.

“I'm not lying.” You scoffed.

“You are. You had been sitting there for the past five minutes, rubbing your legs together, and sighing like you're out of a romantic soap opera.” Bucky grinned. “Oh, my lovely Bunny, what are you reading? Is it one of those smutty books of yours?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Shut up.” You attempted to kick him with your leg, but he grabbed you by your ankle, stopping you from hitting him.

“You are.” His eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. “Are you horny, Bunny?”

You shut up, locking eyes with him as he angled his body towards you.

“Do you need help with that?” He lowered his voice.

“With what?” You croaked, mouth dry.

“To get off. I can return the favor right now.” His fingers, that had been wrapped around your ankle, moved up, stroking your leg. “Besides, you know what happens when you orgasm. How the neurotransmitters that are released when you climax help you reduce your stress, sleep better, and help you relax — we share a wall, Bunny. I can hear you on the other side, still up in the middle of the night.” He called you out.

He continued moving his hand up your thigh until his fingertips grazed the hem of your shorts.

You didn't stop him.

“So, can I? You can imagine it's one of the characters of that book… You can keep reading it while I taste you.”

“You’re joking. Making fun of what I said and did that day.” You huffed and shifted your eyes away from him.

He shook his head. “It's just me. We're just friends, right? Helping each other out. I love helping you, you know that.”

You met his eyes again and then nodded, “Okay, make me cum.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He joked and then positioned himself between your legs. “Go back to your book; you can even read it out loud. Guide me if you want to try something out.”

“Shut up.” You chuckled, and then returned your eyes to the screen.

Bucky grabbed the waistband of your shorts and pulled them down your thighs until they were dangling off your ankle. He leaned in and started kissing your now exposed skin until he was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath and his nose bumping over your panties.

You kept reading, pressing your lips together to avoid making a sound. He kissed over your panties, and then he removed them. The first drag of his tongue made you open your mouth in a silent cry.

Bucky held you open; his hands were under your hip, in full control of the angle. You had been wet as you read your book, wondering if the main character in your book would be a whimpering mess like Bucky was as the female character rides him; now you were dripping, clenching around nothing, begging in your mind to be fucked on your couch.

No.

No.

It's the hormones talking. I'm just horny.

Having his dick inside you would be too much. If the line in your friendship had blurred, penetration would mean total erasure. But to be honest, it wasn't as if his dick wouldn't be doing something much different than what his tongue was doing right now.

Oh God, where had he learned to do that?

“Fuck, Bucky.” You groaned. Loudly. Throwing your head back.

Bucky removed his head from between your thighs to stare at you when he heard your e-reader hit the ground.

“Is something wrong? Want me to stop or change something?”

You looked at him as if he had grown another head out of his neck, and with your hands, you pushed back between your legs.

“Shut up. Keep doing that. Don't stop.” You panted, treading your fingers in his hair as your hips jerked against his mouth. He lapped his tongue over your sensitive clit, alternating with sucking it and shaking his head to add more depth to his attacks. “Oh fuck, mmm, yes, yes, Bucky, that's so good.”

He shifted, sinking his knees on the couch. Then he grabbed your legs and placed them over his shoulders; after that, he pulled your hips up, half-strengthening his back. He pressed your thighs together against his face, suffocating himself.

The new angle made you gasp; you braced yourself on the arm of the couch. You were now openly mewling. Your loud moans were barely overpowered by the obscene sound of his mouth on you.

You came not too long after that, panting and with your legs trembling over his shoulders. Before he let you down, he grazed his teeth with a playful bite and then kissed the spot.

Your breath was still ragged when you accepted his bottle of water that he had offered. You took a sip of water and then looked back at him.

“Why the fuck did Dot break up with you if you could do that?” You asked, stunned.

He had the decency of looking shy, scratching the back of his neck.

“She broke up with me because I wasn't very social, you know me; she wanted me out with her every single week to a party, and that drains me too much. I can only handle too much socialization.” He explained with a shrug.

“What an idiot, believe me, I’d have compromised my social life if my amazing boyfriend could make me cum as hard as you just made me do. And with only your tongue!” You exclaimed as you put back your underwear and shorts. You would have to run back to your room to take a shower and change in a minute because the stickiness between your legs would drive you crazy.

He took a thrown pillow and hit the side of your leg. “Shut up, Bunny!”

You snorted. “I’m serious. I already knew she had lost a great guy; this just adds more stupidity on her side.”

“Thank you, I suppose.” He blushed.

“Just take the compliment, Buck. It's house rules.” You returned the hit with the thrown pillow and ran to your room, squealing and dodging another hit from him.

The agreement was made that same week, officially getting added to the house rules. You would help him take the edge off, and he would help you, too. Easy. Efficient. Complete trust and free use in the apartment unless stated otherwise.

There was one catch, though: no penetration, no kissing. You were friends at the end of the day, and you didn't want to mess that up.

So you let him do everything else, except put his cock inside you.

He would fuck your tits after hitting a wall while doing an essay, eyes closed as he fought the urge to come on the spot at the sight of your glistening skin and your eyes looking up at him as you pushed your tits together. He had made the mistake of looking down the other day, and after batting your eyelashes to him in an oh-so-innocent way, you had put your tongue out just as he pushed in and took an experimental kitten lick over his tip. He had come in that moment, painting your face and tits with his seed. Laughing, you had continued stroking him until he was overstimulated.

One particular time that you had been stressing because your teammates were useless, you were ranting about it with him sitting next to you after you had finished eating dinner while watching a series.

“Do you wanna forget about it?” Bucky asked after you had finished ranting, and he had already tried to cheer you up, given you his advice, and even offered to help you with your project.

“Please.” You sighed.

“How do you need me?” He asked.

“Just stay still.” You said, climbing into his lap.

“I can do that.”

“And stay quiet.” You added, narrowing your eyes.

“Oh, I thought you liked it when I talk dirty. I felt you clench on my fingers when I talked like that and when I praised you.”

You slapped his chest. “Since when are you this smug? What did you do to my best friend?”

“Since you complimented my oral skills.” His grin widened.

You rolled your eyes.

“What? You had been trying since we met to boost my confidence; it's finally working.”He said, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “Take the win, Bunny.”

“Fine, you can talk. Can I hump you now?”

“I’m all yours.”

You chuckled and braced your hands at each side of his head, grabbing the back of the couch.

You rolled your hips, feeling him getting hard under you.

“Fuck, Bunny, why do I feel this is helping me more than it's doing for you?”

“Believe me, it is helping.” You whimpered with eyes closed, leaning towards him. “So much.” Your voice cracked.

“You’re doing so well.” He praised.

“Thanks for the help, Bucky.” You huffed a laugh.

“I can help you even more, if you want.”

You straightened your back and stared down at him. “How?”

Bucky guided his hands and grabbed the hem of his your oversized shirt, taking it off and leaving you half naked, since your bra had been removed earlier that day.

“I can put my oral skills to use.” He cupped your breast and guided your nipple to his mouth, just brushing his lips against it. “I’ve been wanting to give them the attention they deserve since I noticed how… sensitive they are.”

With the tip of his tongue, he circled your nipple, keeping eye contact with you. You stared down at him, biting your lip to hide your smile, shaking your head slightly at his smug behavior.

You liked it.

Confidence suited him well.

He blew air over your wet skin. “Keep going, Bunny.”

You whined when he took your nipple into his mouth, sucking at it while playing with his tongue over it. You leaned into him and continued dry-humping him.

“Turn around.” He ordered after a few minutes.

“Huh?”

“You still have that frown on your face; you're still thinking about it. Let me help you.”

You sighed and then turned onto his lap, his hard cock snuggled under your ass.

“What now?”

He placed his hands on your waist and pulled you to him. “Lean back, Bunny.” You did so, until your back hit his chest, and your head could rest over his shoulder. “Now relax.” He kissed your naked shoulder.

He returned his attention to your breast, alternating to not leave any too long neglected. With his other hand, he traced lazy figures on your navel and, slowly, oh so painfully slowly, he guided his hand under your clothes.

Your hips jolted at the feeling of his fingers grazing your clit.

“Open your legs, let me touch you.” He mumbled in the shell of your ear, and you complied, spreading your legs over his, his knees under you, locking you in place. “That’s it, good Bunny.”

You whimpered, responding to each movement of his fingers with a roll of your hips, grinding on his cock. His ragged breath on your neck gave him away as to how worked up he was, so you decided to give him a hand. Literally.

You shifted forward to give enough space for your hand to sneak between your bodies, and began stroking him under his pants.

“Fuck, Bunny, this is about you.”

“I want you to feel good too.” You muttered.

He pushed two fingers inside you, matching each stroke you gave his cock with the pumping of his fingers. In. Out. In. Out. Each time you rubbed his tip, he curled his fingers, pressing them on your sweet spot.

“Oh, that feels good.” Your head lolled back, eyes fluttering shut as you got lost in the sensation.

“Yeah, bunny? That's good, you're doing so well.” He cooed.

Your free hand gripped the couch, as fireworks went off inside you; the lewd sound of his fingers inside you increased when you gushed around his fingers.

“That’s it, Bunny, let go.”

As you squirmed over his lap, your hold on his cock tightened; his hips jolted forward, fucking himself on your fist, and seconds later, he came.

Your breath was still uneven when you let out a soft chuckle, resting your head on his shoulder.

“You okay?” He asked, puzzled by your sudden laugh.

“Why was I even stressed about?”

He mirrored your chuckle. “I dunno.”

You turned, your nose slightly brushing his face. He did his best not to kiss you right there. To his surprise, you kissed his cheek.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

“The pleasure is mine, literally.”

You giggled and peeled yourself off him. You reached for the tissue box that you had placed on the coffee table since all this started, and cleaned your hands, as well as your inner thighs. When you were done, you passed the box to Bucky to clean himself.

“Shower and a movie in a few minutes?” You suggested, standing up and stretching, still topless.

“Of course.” He said, keeping his eyes down.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Don't make it weird; you're acting as if you didn't have your mouth attached to my chest like 5 minutes ago.”

“If I look up, I’d want to do it again.”

You thought he was joking, so you slapped his arm playfully. “Of course, Buck, whatever you say.” Your shoulders were still shaking with laughter as you walked to your room, leaving him in the living room to contemplate if all of this had been a mistake.

It became a regular thing then.

You got better at it, reading each other and finding stolen moments to get each other off. Trouble, of course, appeared sooner rather than later — because obviously, none of you had told any of your friends.

Steve was the first to almost catch you, and it had been your fault. That day, on your way home, you had texted Bucky, asking him if he was home after a stressful day. You made the mistake of not reading his text, and when you got to your apartment, you had walked down the hallway straight to his room.

“I’m home,” you said, removing your jacket and throwing it to the floor. You began undoing the buttons of your shirt as you pushed his door open. “You won't believe the day I had. I’m gonna need you to— Steve! Hi!” You widened your eyes and quickly covered your already exposed bra when you found Steve sitting at Bucky’s desk.

Steve blushed and said your name, gesturing a hello. You thanked God that you hadn't entered his room without pants, as you two had begun to wander inside the apartment in your underwear with nothing more than an oversized shirt in your case or sweatpants and a shirt in his.

“Bucky didn't tell me you would be here.” You said under a fake smile.

Bucky got back into the room, finding you standing by the door.

“I guess you didn't get my text,” Bucky mumbled in equal shock to you.

“I did not.” You turned on your heels, giving your back to Steve. “I’ll be in my room.”

Bucky mouthed sorry to you, and you quickly scrambled out of the room. When you took out your phone, his text mocked at you, reading that Steve had come to the apartment by surprise since he needed some tutoring, and that he would be more than happy to help you out as soon as he walked out.

Another time, not as embarrassing as that one, had occurred on campus. You and Yelena were eating some ice cream that the student committee had been giving out when Bucky found you.

“Hi, Bunny.” He greeted you, standing right in front of you.

“Hi! Want some?” You offered your cone as you had done multiple times in the past. He nodded, but instead of taking the cone from your hands, he leaned in, covering your hand with his as he licked a strip of melted ice cream and then sucked some more, all while staring right at you.

“Mmm, my favorite.” The tip of his tongue peeked out of his lips, collecting any residue of the cold dessert, as he kept eye contact.

Fuck me.

You might as well have combusted in the spot; you were horny as fuck since you hadn't had any action since your period started, contrary to him, who had been on the receiving end of your blowjobs.

“I’ll be staying after class at the library. Text me what you want me to get to dinner, okay?”

You hummed, still staring at his mouth. He dared to smile.

“Good.” He finally turned to see Yelena, who had watched the whole exchange like a hawk. “Yelena.” He nodded at her. “Catch you later, Bunny, thank you for sharing.”

And then he was gone.

“The fuck was that?” Yelena exclaimed.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” You busied yourself back into finishing your ice cream, ignoring the way her eyes were burning the side of your head.

“Are you guys fucking in your apartment? Is that why we haven't done a sleepover recently?” Yelena accused, making you choke on your ice cream.

“What the fuck, Lena?” You coughed. “We haven't done any sleepovers because you have been sleeping at Kate’s since you started hooking up.”

“Hey, we sometimes stay at mine. And don't change the subject; you didn't answer.”

“We’re not. We’re roommates, and he's my best friend.”

“I’m your best friend too, but you don't look at me like that, do you?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “If that wasn't sexual tension, I don't know what it was.”

“Maybe you're projecting."

She slapped your arm. "Shut up. But you might be right; thankfully, my period is over, so..." she grinned, already thinking of her date night with Kate.

"Lucky girl."

"Going back to you and Bucky. Why the hell does he even keep calling you Bunny?" She scoffed. "It sounds so… sexual, you know?"

"I already told you, he has been calling me that since your birthday. He couldn't hear my name over the music, so he called me by my costume."

"I know that, but that was during the first semester, ages ago, before you two lived together. He knows your name by now."

"It's just a cute nickname. I like it." You shrugged, but you couldn't lie; the nickname had begun to sound more intimate the last couple of weeks, especially since each time he said it with a much more sultry voice than he did before, it took you back to not-so-innocent moments.

"Dot and every guy you had dated hated it, which reminds me — Do you want to go out on a double date with Kate and me? She has this friend that I'm sure is your type. Who knows, Bob might give you a hand and break your dry spell."

You scrunched your nose at her suggestion. Something about someone else touching you in a sexual context made you sick. "I'm fine, Lena. I'm good with my own hands and toys, thank you very much."

"Ugh, you're no fun." She groaned. "The offer is there. Bob is a great guy, but Bucky isn't a bad choice either, if you two decide to finally start dating."

You gave her a shoulder check and resumed your walk towards your next lecture.

If only she knew.

You two were just having fun, helping each other out. You reminded yourself frequently.

You made each other get the edge off… in the kitchen, in the dining room, in the living room, in the hallway, in his room, in the laundry room, in the hallway, in his car. While, after, and before studying or going to work.

His gaming sessions weren't an exception.

Usually, even before you started this, while he was playing video games in his room, you would find your way there and read on his bed or play one of your cozy games on your portable console. Sometimes you would grab popcorn and other snacks, sit next to him, and watch him play.

It stopped being innocent one time you were reading another smutty book that got you so worked up that you ended up touching yourself on his bed. Bucky had looked over his shoulder after you let out a whimper before covering your mouth. He muted himself and asked you to approach. Once you were next to him, he patted his thigh and asked you to sit facing his setup.

“Grind, Bunny. Make yourself feel good.” He muttered before he lowered his mic again and unmuted, going back to his game. You rolled your hips over his thigh, leaving a wet spot on his skin. You leaned on his desk and buried your head in your arms to muffle your cries.

Since both of his hands were occupied, he gave you his attention by kissing your shoulder from time to time. Whenever he was killed in-game and had to spectate his teammates, he took you by the hips and aided you in your movements — sometimes he would die on purpose early on the match so he could play with your clit with one hand and cover your mouth with the other.

When you were close to your climax, he muted his mic, and with his warm mouth in your ear, he praised you as you came, ignoring the trash talk from Sam and Steve about how shitty he was playing that day. In return for the favor, you had sunk to your knees under his desk and suck him off while the other match started, making him lose again and bark an excuse to his friends to disconnect, and then took you to his bed to make you sit on his face while you kept his cock deep in your throat.

The first night Bucky slept with you in your bed after this agreement started hadn't been planned. You had slept together before; naturally, after so much time knowing each other, you had taken naps on the living room couch, or in his bed if you fell asleep there, but your room had been the exception — until that night.

"Hey, are you still awake?" Bucky asked from the other side of your door.

"Come in." You replied with a yawn.

"Did I wake you up?" He peeked his head out, opening the door slightly.

"You didn't. What's up?"

He was standing by the door, visibly nervous.

"Bucky?"

"Can I lie down with you?" He sounded tired. You knew he hadn't been sleeping well, too stressed about his projects. He always pressured himself; you had called him out many times, but he had been raised this way, and old habits died hard.

"Of course you can."

He climbed into your bed and lay down under the covers behind you since you were on your side. His arms quickly wrapped around you, one tucked under your head and the other around your waist, pulling your back into his chest.

You stayed silent in that position, caressing his arm around you, feeling his warm breath on the back of your neck.

“They will still love you if you don't get straight A’s, you know?” His hold around you tightened.

“I'm not so sure about that.” He replied, his voice sounded so… small.

“Well, I do. Because I don't care if you get an A or a C. You're still you, and I love you for that.” You said. “You’re kind, gentle, and yeah, you're a little awkward, and sometimes you forget how to socialize properly—”

You smiled triumphantly when he chuckled.

“Shut up.”

“You are funny, smart, and the best human being that I know of — not because you are perfect, but because you get up every morning and just… try.”

“Bunny…”

“And if your parents don't see that, fuck them, seriously. You don't need to go back there during the break. You can stay here, or go with me to my hometown, or even better, we can both take that trip you always tell me about.”

You couldn't see him, but you felt him melting around you, embracing you close as his breath eased.

“I'm so lucky to have you as a friend.” He mumbles

“Of course you are. I'm amazing.” You chuckled.

“Yes, you are.” He kissed your shoulder over your pajama shirt. "I hope you know all those wonderful things also apply to you. In fact, let's add it to the house rules.”

“What do you suggest?”

“No more stressing over school; we are allowed to fail. How about that?”

You hummed, “I like that. Took us long enough, but it's a good rule now that it's our final year.”

“Let’s try to sleep, Bunny.” He said, closing his eyes.

“I'm trying, but a big nerd came into my room in the middle of the night and won't stop talking.”

“Shut up.” He kicked your leg.

You returned the kick. “You shut up.”

“Shh.”

Stillness lasted almost an hour; you both were already drifting in your sleep when you shifted your hips slightly, brushing against his front. You stayed like that until you fell asleep.

In his sleep, Bucky jerked his hips forward in a sloppy rhythm, which woke you up eventually. Your eyes adjusted to the dark of the room, unable to move since he had you trapped against him.

“Mmm, Bunny.” You heard him whine; his hips were thrusting against your ass, his cock hardening with each movement.

You blinked away sleep and turned over your shoulder; to your surprise, he was asleep, mouth slightly open and chest rising in a steady rhythm.

He moaned your name, and you wouldn't lie, having him basically humping you from behind and moaning in your ear was making your panties wet.

His hand, that had been resting heavily over the curve of your waist, moved down, resting lower, dangerously close to your pussy.

“Bucky, wake up.” You managed to say, biting back a whimper from your part. “Bucky.”

“Mmm?” He hummed, keeping his eyes closed.

“You’re…” You squeezed his arm, but he didn't let you finish. As soon as he regained consciousness, his throbbing cock called his attention; the need to cum ran hot all over his body.

He tensed when he realized what he had been doing.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry, Bunny.” His voice was thick with sleep. He moved his hips away from you, but yours followed. “Bunny?”

“Wait. Do you need help with that?” You whispered, wiggling your ass against him.

He choked a moan.

“Bunny…”

“I can help.”

“We said no penetration.” He sounded pained.

You bit your lip and then shifted, angling yourself so his cock was nuzzled right below your ass cheeks.

“You don't need to put it in. Just… use my thighs.” You offered.

He was speechless.

“Did you read that in one of those books?” He teased.

“Shut up. Do you want to try it or not?” You wiggled your ass again, making him jolt forward.

“Fuck, wait, don't we need lube or something?”

You looked over your shoulder. “Bottom drawer, behind you.” He looked at you. You rolled your eyes. “I use it with my sex toys, dumbass.”

He would definitely ask about it later, maybe even ask you to give him a demonstration.

Bucky peeled himself from you to reach the drawer. When he opened it, he saw some silky bags of different sizes, a bottle, and a small towel. His curiosity won over, and he took one of the smaller bags, as well as the bottle of lube and the towel.

You turned on your back when you heard the shuffling behind you; he had turned on the lamp on your bedside table.

“I told you to grab the lube.” You scolded him.

“Which one is this?” He held the silky bag high so you could see it.

Your eyes trailed from the bag to his eyes. “My vibrating bullet.”

You saw the devilish grin that appeared on his face. He could picture you perfectly, on your back in your bed late at night after he had fallen asleep next door, holding the vibrator under your panties, your mouth hanging open in a silent cry, brows knitted in the expression he had come to learn like the back of his hand.

His cock twitched.

“Can you use it while I fuck your thighs?” He asked, even if the warm soft light only lit one side of his face, you noticed his heavy-lidded dark eyes; the bright blue was only a slim ring around his blown pupils.

You sighed through your nose, but nodded. The idea sounded really, really good. You lifted your hand and gestured for him to give you the bag.

Bucky let out a happy noise and then proceeded to free his hard cock. He put some lube on his palm and then smeared it along his length. He positioned himself back into position and then slid his cock between your thighs.

You were looking down, watching as his wet tip peeked between your plush skin. You lowered your hand and teased his tip when it peeked out.

“Fuck, Bunny.” He groaned behind you, resting his forehead against your shoulder as he rolled his hips. “Use it, make yourself good, please.”

You complied, taking out the vibrator from the bag after he handed you the lube.

The moment the added stimulation registered in your body, your hips jolted back, meeting his thrust and making both of you moan in unison.

Bucky gripped your hips, keeping you steady as he fucked himself between your legs. With the angle you held your hips, the bottom side of the vibrator brushed his tip when he rutted in.

“Fuck, Bunny, you're taking me so well.”

You whimpered his name, turning your head slightly and kissing his arm that was still tucked under your head.

“Keep going, don't stop.” You encouraged him, tightening your hold around his cock by crossing your legs.

He cursed, digging his fingers into your hips.

“Oh God, I’m not gonna last.”

“It's okay, cum Bucky, cum for me.”

He came with a groan, his hips jerked in sloppy thrusts until every drop dripped between your thighs. With his hand, he turned your face, and keeping eye contact, you came undone, with hot pleasure ripping you apart and pulling you back together for his eyes only.

Mouth hanging open.

Lips trembling.

Brows knitted.

Bucky really wished he could've kissed you in that moment. Muffle your cries with his lips, drink up your moans, and your taste.

But he didn't.

He just stared at you in awe, and if he hadn't just come, he was sure he would've reached ecstasy the moment your eyes locked in his.

He held you in his arms until you came back into your body, and after a few minutes, he got up with the towel in his hand. He emerged from your bathroom after cleaning himself, with your towel now warm in his hand.

Bucky climbed the bed, and mumbling praises, he cleaned the residue of his spent and lube from between your thighs, then he removed your soaked panties, and cleaned the evidence of your arousal.

He discarded the towel, and after roaming in the drawer you pointed out, he took a new pair of panties and, to your surprise, he put them on you, leaving a kiss on your inner thigh when he was done.

Back in your bed, he took his place behind you and cuddled you, holding you in his arms as sleep took over.

Those nights repeated, especially once the semester got to that point where both of you lived and breathed projects and heavy assignments.

Sometimes he would find his way into your room, giving you an orgasm or two before falling asleep. Morning with him also meant waking up with his mouth on you, kissing down your body, or tongue deep in your pussy.

“I like to taste you first thing in the morning. Works better than caffeine.” He had said the first time you had woken up with him under the covers.

You returned the favor, of course, waking him up, stroking him, or with his cock deep in your throat.

The mornings in your room together led to a shower together — only when your shower routine allowed it — and then to the kitchen, where both worked on breakfast. It was easy, the domesticity of all; it made your heart gallop and stop at the same time.

You knew things had changed; god, they probably changed before this whole agreement, somewhere between doing groceries and movie nights with your roommate.

Of course, you weren't the only one who had noticed that change.

“Okay, spit it out, tell me what's going on?” Yelena asked, rolling the grocery cart.

Bucky’s birthday was the following day, and you had been working on his surprise party, which meant an express grocery visit to buy all the last-minute items.

“I don't know what you are talking about.” You muttered, taking several bags of chips and dumping them on top of the napkins.

“Oh, but you know. You had been glowing this past week, and I know you; I know when you're hiding something.”

“Lena, just drop it; nothing is going on.”

She hummed.

You thought she had, in fact, dropped it. She didn't.

“You know,” she said once everything was loaded in her car, and she got ready to drive out of the parking lot. “Jason asked about you.”

“Jason?”

“Tall guy, huge biceps, dreamy eyes. You hooked up with him during first year.” She detailed, keeping her eyes on the road.

Oh.

Jason.

The one Bucky had found you tongue deep in his throat.

That Jason.

“I remember.”

“Well, he is a friend of Kate. I met him at a reunion with her group of friends.”

“Sounds like you're finally going steady.”

“Stop deflecting.” She said, giving you side-eye. “He recognized me, asked about you, and I invited him to Bucky’s party, so you can reconnect.”

You widened your eyes. This was the last thing you needed.

“Yelena Belova.” You scolded.

“Wow, full government name.”

“Why the fuck did you invite him? He doesn't even know Bucky!”

“Kate also doesn't know him, and she's going.”

“That's different! She's your girlfriend.” You slapped her arm. “Uninvite him! I don't care! He's not coming.”

“Jesus, woman, I’m just trying to help you out! Exams had been stressful; maybe you need to fuck the stress out, you know.”

“Well, don't. I'm totally fine, I do not need more help.” The words spilled out of your mouth, blinded by the successful rage bait that your friend just did.

Yelena grinned.

“So you are getting help with that. I knew it. You looked extra chirpy these last months.” You widened your eyes in horror. “So who's the lucky guy?”

She glanced at you for a second, a quick read of your face, and then her jaw dropped.

“Oh, my God! Are you and Bucky finally together? Is this why I haven't been at your apartment? You don't want me to disrupt your love nest!”

You buried your face in your hands. “Shut up.”

She squealed.

“That’s not a no!”

“Lena, we are not together… we are just having fun.”

“You don't sound like you're having fun.” Her brows knitted with concern. “Babes, what’s the problem?”

“We are fuckbuddies. But I’m not sure if he wants more.”

“Have you asked him?”

“No. Well — I suggested some rules at the beginning; he agreed.”

“God, babes, for someone so smart, sometimes you do be an idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“Haven’t you stopped to think that maybe he agreed and you put those rules, because both of you thought that was the only way the other would agree to be that close to actually being something real?”

You shook your head.

“Babes, that guy has been head over heels for you since that night you met. And you had been too!” You opened your mouth. “Don’t even try to deny it.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed a breath out of your nose. “I actually was about to agree with you.”

“That's a first. Continue.”

“I’m such an idiot, but how do I even start undoing it?”

Yelena parked her car right outside your building.

“Maybe start undoing all those rules of yours.” She shrugged.

And you took it literally.

Maybe it was a mistake, and you should have stopped to think about it more clearly, but you were desperate.

Yelena left after she helped you take all the groceries upstairs and hide everything out of Bucky’s sight — which, in retrospect, wasn't necessary since Bucky knew you always threw a party for him. The only surprise was the theme.

And this year, the last birthday being a college student, the theme was costumes.

Just like the day you met.

Bucky arrived at the apartment a few hours later, coming back from hanging out with Steve, who, as every birthday week of his, was tasked with keeping him busy and out of the apartment if needed.

“Bunny! I’m home!” Bucky exclaimed, peeling off his jacket.

“In my room!” You shouted without peeking out.

You heard him padding around the apartment, and just as you predicted, he opened your door seconds later.

“Bunny…” Bucky mumbled, flabbergasted.

You were standing just outside of your bathroom, resting with one hand extended towards the wall. You were wearing a white lacy set of lingerie, paired with an open silky translucent robe that framed your body. On top of your head, like a crown of a queen, were the same bunny ears that you had been wearing the night you met.

“Happy early birthday, Buck.” You said with a smirk.

“Angel…” He said, mouth dry.

“Wasn't I your Bunny?” You pouted.

“You look like an angel.” You chuckled, walking barefoot towards him. “I have died, and I’m in heaven.”

“Easy, you're not dead yet.” You stopped in front of him, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. His hands shot to hold your naked waist to keep you steady; he didn't remove them even when your heels touched the floor. “This ain't your birthday gift, though; this is a sneak peek at your party tomorrow. You have to pick a costume.”

His eyes widened. “You’ll be wearing this tomorrow?”

“The bunny ears. But this will be under the dress.” You winked at him.

And he whimpered.

He actually whimpered.

“That's torture. Do you know how hard it would be to keep my hands away from you, knowing that?”

Maybe you don't need to. You wanted to say.

“Someone will have to restrain me so I don't end up giving a show out there.” He added.

You laughed.

“Yeah, maybe you should keep that for the bedroom.”

“Or at least until we are alone.”

“Smart.”

“Is that why you're showing me now?” He asked, his hands pulling you closer to him, forcing you to look up to meet his eyes. “To taunt me.”

You nodded. “That, and because I wanted to try out something.”

“What?” He scanned your face, stopping for several seconds at your lips.

You took it as a green light.

You stood again on your tiptoes, resting your hands over his shoulder and the nape of his neck.

And then you kissed him.

He gasped in your mouth, but then he melted in the kiss, cupping your head to control the angle, deepening the kiss.

Heat spread all over your body, overheating you to the point you felt like you were on fire. Without leaving his lips, you removed your robe and then pulled him from his collar, guiding him to your bed until he was lying over you.

“Bunny… the rules.” He said, pulling himself away from your lips, a pained look on his face.

“Forget them.” You guided him back to you, and he surrendered.

Your hands traveled around his body, touching whenever they could reach, pulling at his clothes to remove them.

“I want to feel you.” You whimpered.

“Okay.” He nodded, kissing your neck. He removed his shirt; his jeans followed shortly after, landing near his shoes and socks.

“Boxers too.” You mumbled against the crook of his neck.

Kissing and nipping the tender skin and making him groan.

He lay naked over you, your legs parted and hugging his hips, pulling him close until he could feel the growing wetness in your panties. Bucky moaned in your mouth, as you bucked your hips; the friction over his erection made him see stars.

This was new.

You knew it. He knew it.

Even when he fucked your thighs, he was never that close to your pussy. And when you were in a similar position, there were always at least two layers of clothes between you.

His hips rutted against you, and then you guided your hand between your bodies, pulling your panties to the side.

He gave you a puzzled look.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“More than anything. I want to feel you.”

He whimpered, and after a nod, he resumed his grinding. You mewled as his heavy cock glided between your folds, kissing your clit with each dive.

“More, I need more.” You moaned. “Please, Bucky, give it to me.”

Bucky sat on his heels, looking down at your squirming figure, but you followed him up, meeting his lips in a passionate kiss. He got distracted, lost in your lips, to the point that when you pulled apart to lie back down, your panties and bra were gone, your glistening pussy exposed, weeping to have him inside.

The groan that left him was borderline animalistic. Knelt before you, he grabbed his cock with his fist and began rocking his hips, the tip of his cock hitting your clit with more pressure and precision. You spread yourself open for him, with your hands hooked behind your knees and holding your legs up.

“Bucky, please.” You groaned.

“What do you need, Bunny?”

“You, please, inside.”

He whined, “Bunny, no…”

“Why not?” You cried out.

“The rules.” He said simply.

“Fuck the rules.” You groaned. “I want you, all of you. Please, Bucky.” You begged.

He stilled his hips, needing to focus and think with his brain and not his other head. Because he wanted to feel you, too, bury himself in your heat.

“What if you regret it?” He searched your eyes, his concern only confirming what you already knew.

“I won't.” You worked to steady your breath. “Because I’ve been wanting these since I met you. Especially once I realized how much I love you.”

He shifted, too lost in his mind to realize he had done it, making his cock nuzzle between your folds and kiss your clit. You swallowed your moan.

“You love me?” His blue eyes, obscured by his desire, were bright with unshed tears.

You nodded frantically, and a chuckle escaped you, letting go of the strain of your legs but keeping yourself open. “So much it made me scared to lose you and stop myself from saying it out loud.” You confessed.

“Bunny —” He looked at you with a bright smile. “You don't have any idea of how much I love you.”

“I think I might have.” You smiled. “And I’m pretty sure that anyone who has met both of us knows how much we love each other.”

“Do you think that me gifting you flowers, any chance that I had, was too on the nose?” He scrunched his nose, leaning in and placing a hand next to your head.

You laughed, throwing your head back, making the bunny ears — that until that moment were forgotten — shift, and dig into your skull. Bucky noticed the discomfort in your face and reached out to place the bunny ears back in place.

“Yeah, probably. But me throwing myself in your arms right after might have contributed.” You said, lost in the tender way he looked at you.

“So we are both idiots, keeping each other away from what makes us happy.”

“Pretty much.”

“What now?” He looked at you.

“Well, right now we can continue what we were doing.” You bucked your hips, feeling the delicious drag of his cock against you. “After that, we can talk more about it, but let me tell you, I’m tired of the rules, tired of being a dirty secret, tired of loving you in the shadows.”

“I agree.”

“Do you want to be—” You clamped your hand over his mouth.

“Don't you dare ask me to be your girlfriend when we are about to have sex.” You threatened, and then you removed your hand.

“Later then.” He smiled. “Where were we?” He knitted his brows, feigning ignorance.

“I don't know, where do you think we were?” You teased.

“I think, Bunny.” He leaned in, brushing his lips against yours with each word he said. “I was about to fuck you.” His smug smile was bright when he pulled back enough to see your reaction. “Am I right?”

“Mhm.”

“Tell me if you need me to stop or change anything.” He instructed, lining himself with your entrance.

“Wait.” You gasped when you felt his tip tease your opening. He stopped, pulling back away from you. “Slow, please… You are big.”

He nodded, and then he pushed inside. Your mouth gaped, feeling your walls fluttering around him to accommodate his girth inside you.

“More.” You whined after a few shallow thrusts with only his tip inside you.

He sank deeper, your slick adding to the intrusion. Your hand shot to grip his forearm next to your head.

“You’re taking me so well, Bunny.” He praised. “My pretty Bunny, so wet and tight for me. Breathe, baby, you can do it.”

You mewled, feeling him reach deeper until he was buried to the hilt.

“That's it, so good, such a good bunny.” His voice cracked, pleasure ripping down his spine after a few thrusts.

Your legs returned to the initial position. Spread open, legs up. You felt him reach deeper, each drag adding pressure to your sweet spot.

“Oh fuck, right there.” You whined.

His pace fastened, tightening the coil in your belly with each drill of his hips. He rocked your entire body, making your breasts jiggle with each movement that made your ass hit his thighs, to the point that if he hadn't been holding you in place, he would've already pushed you out of bed.

You were creaming around him, mixing with his precum, forming a ring of slick at the bottom of his cock. The wet clap of skin against skin was loud, mixing with your moans and cries.

“Oh, Bunny, you feel so good. You're gripping me so tight, you don't want to let go, don't you? You want me to stay right there, nuzzled inside you.”

“Yes, ah, yes!” You cried out, wrapping your legs around him with a leglock, heels pressing his butt.

“Bunny, baby, I need to pull out,” Bucky said, groaning.

“Cum inside me, please, breed me.”

“Oh, Bunny.” He whimpered, his self-control snapping like a twig. “Is this why you said no penetration before — mmm, because you knew how much you'll want my cum inside you.”

You nodded.

“Please, I need it.”

His pace grew more erratic; he leaned in, arms braced so he could piston harder. Your arms wrapped around him, nails digging in his skin.

He knew very well that you were on the pill since long before you met him; still, the fantasy of getting you pregnant, marking you as his for the world to see, was making him dizzy in pleasure.

You were babbling now, too cockdrunk to even speak without slurring words that weren't yes, please, Bucky, fill me.

“Such a needy, Bunny.” He taunted you. “Come for me, baby, let me feel you.”

He felt you coming around him first, then he saw your pretty face contorted with pleasure.

Mouth hanging open.

Lips trembling.

Brows knitted.

Your legs trembled as you came, gushing around his cock. Your back arched.

And finally, he achieved what he had only been dreaming of. He kissed you, swallowing your moans.

Your climax triggered his, milking him as he spilled his seed inside you, filling you to the brim. His hips jerked; shallow thrusts made to pump his cum inside you and make it stay there.

“That’s it, Bunny. Take every drop.” He groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” You slurred, still on the peak of your climax that had prolonged with the joy of being bred.

You came down slowly, falling back into his arms as he cooed praises. He stayed buried inside you, just shifting enough to make you moan, and making sure not a single drop was wasted.

“That was…”

“Intense.” Bucky completed.

“Very much. When can we repeat?” You joked, making him laugh over you.

“My bunny and her jokes, I swear.” He kissed your lips. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you more.” You giggled when he kept peppering kisses all over your face and neck.

He pulled back slightly so he could see your whole face. “Are you okay?” he asked, straightening the bunny ears again.

“Never have been better, but I think my legs are cramped now.”

“Shit, Bunny!”

Bucky quickly straightened his back, bringing you up with him until you were sitting in his lap; the shift made some cum drip around his cock and down to the sheets.

“Better?” He kissed your shoulder, and as you got comfortable with your arms around him, he placed one hand on the curve of your ass, and the other caressed down your spine with lazy strokes.

You nodded, feeling sleepy and satisfied.

“Happy early birthday, Bucky.” You mumbled, reciprocating the caresses on his broad back.

“Thank you, Bunny. Best birthday present.” You nuzzled into his neck. “We are gonna have to explain a lot tomorrow.”

You considered lying, but you knew it would eventually come out.

“Yelena already knows.” You confessed. “She rage-baited me today until I spilled it out. I didn't tell her all the details — but she inferred we were sleeping together. She also helped me see how stupid I was not to tell you how I feel.”

He hummed.

“Why do you look so calm about it?” You narrowed your eyes at him, meeting his eyes and watching him blush. “Barnes?”

“Sam and Steve also know, superficially, nothing in detail. They've been nudging me to confess how much I love you for the past year, but I didn't want to risk our friendship.”

“Oh God, I can't believe our brain cells canceled each other.” You whined, mortified.

“If it helps, you're way smarter than I am; you at least made us progress — I was about to take my feelings to my grave.”

You slapped his arm. “Dumbass.”

He laughed.

“Ready to move?” You nodded against his shoulder. “What do you think about a bubble bath, soaking there until we look like raisins, and then we watch that movie you told me last time? I bought that ice cream you love.”

“Fuck me, you know me so well.”

“Of course I do, I’m your best friend.” He kissed your temple. “And your future boyfriend.”

“Yes, you are.” You smiled at him, and before he helped you stand up, you kissed him.

You were getting addicted to his kisses, you realized, which in part was great because you had so much time to make up for that you would be surprised if you ever were more than a few minutes without feeling his lips on you.

Time for new house rules.

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