Used to have the account of @clarawolf09 but tumblr wonât let me login and wont even let me contact support. So this account will possibly be temporary, if I can possibly get my other account back.
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I wonât be adding any more warnings as the title is already self explanatory so, MDNI +18 and fully smut ofc đđ.
I decided not to put the taglist everytime as it would be a ton of notifications for you all (the taglist will be the same for the other stories)
happy summer kinky october my dears <3
You shouldâve known when he pulled you onto his lap without a word.
That look in his eyes had already told you everything you needed to know.
He didnât speak, just sat on the edge of the bed thighs spread wide, hands sliding up the back of your legs until his palms were gripping your thighs like he owned them. His fingers pressed into the soft flesh possessively as he guided you down onto him, inch by inch, with that look.
The one that said youâre gonna take all of it no matter what.
Youâre still adjusting.
Still struggling to breathe.
Your palms press against his shoulders like you might be able to steady yourself, but itâs useless. The moment you sink down fully, heâs everywhere, so deep you swear you can feel him in your lungs.
âToo much for you, baby?â Bucky smirks, voice husky and rich, the sound vibrating through his chest into your fingertips. His hands slip under your shirt, rough palms against your warm skin kneading at your hips. âYouâre always so cocky until I get inside you.â
Heâs not wrong.
Your knees are shaking where theyâre braced on either side of his thighs. Your nails are dug into his shoulders hard enough to leave little crescent moons. Your pussy is aching around him, stretched and stuffed full in a way that borders on overwhelming.
Itâs too much.
Heâs too big.
Too thick.
Too long and he knows it.
âThatâs it,â he whispers, one hand sliding down to the base of your spine, holding you close so thereâs no space left between you. âTake all of me. Look at how full you are, sweetheart.â
Your breath stutters. Your walls flutter around him from just being filled.
âF-feels⌠fuck⌠itâs so much... Bucky...â you whimper, burying your face in his neck inhaling the smell of leather and soap and him. âI canât move.â
âYou donât have to.â He hums satisfied. âJust sit here a minute. Let that sweet little cunt adjust.â
He brushes a kiss against your jaw, then another at your temple. His fingers rubbing gentle circles into your back.
Itâs a confusing mix.
Softness wrapped around something utterly filthy because even as he holds you like glass, his cock twitches inside you and he groans, rough and low against your ear.
âEvery single time, baby,â he growls. âEvery time I fuck you, itâs like youâre not ready for it.â
âI never am,â you gasp, voice breaking.
He chuckles darkly, lips grazing your skin. âI know. Thatâs my favorite part.â
You moan.
Humiliation, arousal and disbelief that you still havenât gotten used to the way he stretches you.
He tilts your chin up with a finger, forcing you to meet his gaze. His pupils are blown, blue almost swallowed by black.
âLook at how small you are on me,â he whispers. âFucking made for me.â
And then he grabs your hips and rocks you forward. You cry out, hands scrambling for balance as he lifts you and slams you back down on his cock.
The stretch, the impact and the way he hits that spot deep inside.
Youâre already falling apart and you havenât even started moving on your own yet.
âThatâs it,â he hisses. âLet me see you bounce on it. Show me how good you can take it.â
Youâre a mess in his lap, trying your best lifting and sinking slowly, your movements shaky and desperate. Your walls clench hard around him, like your bodyâs trying to keep him inside even as you rise.
âItâs too deep,â you gasp. âYouâre hitting⌠ah... Bucky!â
âYou can take it,â he growls, voice like gravel. âYouâve done it before. Youâll do it again. Youâre mine. You were made for this cock.â
His grip tightens and then he takes over completely, bouncing you in his lap like a doll. Using his strength to drive you down onto him again and again, until your thighs burn and your eyes roll back, mouth falling open around a soundless cry.
âYouâre fuckinâ ruined for anyone else,â he mutters into your ear, the heat of his breath making you shiver. âNo one else is gonna stretch you like this. No oneâs gonna fill you the way I do.â
You moan helpless, breathless, loving every filthy word. His cock drags along your walls with every thrust, pushing deeper than you thought possible and keeping you open around him, stuffed full.
Itâs relentless heat, friction and pressure. Everything blurring until all you can do is hold on. Youâre already so close it hurts.
âFeel that?â He pants, pressing a hand to your lower belly where he bulges against you. âThat pressure in your belly? Thatâs me. All of me. Filling every inch of you.â
You nod frantically, eyes glassy. âCanât... canât hold it...â
âDonât.â He groans. âFucking come on it. I wanna feel you squeeze me.â
The command tips you over.
You fall apart in his lap, crying out as your orgasm crashes over you clenching around him like a vice, pulsing and shaking, thighs trembling as you writhe in his grip.
Bucky doesnât stop.
He keeps fucking up into you harder now, chasing his own high, hips snapping as he drives you through the aftershocks until tears prick at the corners of your eyes.
âThatâs it, baby,â he growls. âTake it. Take all of it.â
And then he slams you down one final time, grinding deep and groans as he comes thick and hot, flooding you so deep you feel it everywhere. His hands are gripping you so tightly you think you might bruise, but you need it.
Need to be held together.
Youâre shaking overwhelmed and full.
He doesnât pull out right away, just holds you there cock buried inside, breathing hard against your shoulder. âFuck,â he whispers, voice gone rough. âYou always do that to me.â
You slump forward, boneless in his arms. âBecause youâre huge, Bucky.â
He chuckles, breathless and proud. âYou love it.â
You nod, dazed. âI love you.â
His arms wrap around your waist, grounding you as your heartbeat slows. âI love you too, baby,â he says softly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. âYouâre so good for me.â
You nuzzle into him, still full, still twitching around his cock. âYouâre staying inside, huh?â You mumble.
He grins against your skin. âDamn right. Gotta keep all that come in there. Make sure it takes.â
You laugh soft and wrecked. âYouâre insatiable.â
âAnd youâre perfect.â
He shifts you slightly still buried in you, rubbing slow soothing circles on your hips as your body finally begins to calm.
The room smells like sweat and sex and him, warm and heavy.
For a long moment, thereâs nothing but the sound of your breathing syncing with his, your forehead resting against his jaw and even though youâre full to the brim and trembling, you already know that youâd let him pull you into his lap all over again.
you lactate for no reason (don't think about it too hard), and enjin is obsessed with your milk
tw: lactation, fem!reader, breast feeding, mommy kink, daddy kink, humping, open relationship, reader is married to gris, but gris does not mind sharing with enjin, brief mention of puke
a/n: this is inspired by this post by my benevolent overlord @lxnarphase. lunnie if you can hear me, i love you, please accept this offering. sorry if this is lowkey buns.
youâre laying on your back in the bed you and your husband share, upper body propped with a few pillows. enjinâs long, naked body is half-draped across you, tucked tightly into your side, his arms wrapped around your middle. his breath is warm where it fans over your bare breast, mouth hovering over your leaking nipple. gris lays beside the two of you. his large palm is running up and down enjinâs back, loosely tracing the dark patterns.
âyou can eat now, baby. go ahead,â you murmur softly. you card one hand through enjinâs unstyled hair, brushing it back from his forehead, the other cupping his flushed cheek.
âfuck, thank you mommy,â his head drops and his lips close around the damp, puffy bud of your nipple, eyelids fluttering shut. your breath stutters. his mouth is so warm.
gris hums next to you, the hand on enjinâs back moving to rest on the nape of his neck. âsuch a good boy, arenât you? mommy waited all day just to feed you, didnât pump at all."
enjin groans around the fatty tissue and milk in his mouth, little white bubbles escaping the corners of his lips and dripping down his chin. heâs always been a messy eater. you can feel how hard he is against your thigh, so you push it against his cock to encourage him to grind on you. when he rocks forward again, the movement is slippery with pre.
though the stimulation from his rapid sucking feels incredible, you know heâs drinking too fast. you giggle breathlessly, âenjin, baby, slow down. iâm not going anywhere.â
gris lightly squeezes enjinâs nape in agreement. thereâs a hint of amusement in his voice when he speaks, âyouâre gonna make yourself sick, greedy boy. what if you throw up when daddy fucks your throat later? you donât wanna make a mess, do you?â
enjin doesnât seem to hear either of you, if he does he doesnât acknowledge you. heâs too enraptured by the warmth sliding down his throat and the feeling of his two favorite people surrounding him completely. it had been over a week since heâd last been able do this, to let go and be taken care of.
âi asked you a question, enjin. answer me,â gris chastises, reaching down to pinch the muscled globe of enjin's ass, soothing the spot when enjin jerks his hips away and whines.
he releases his mouth with a wet pop, voice strained as he apologizes, âno sir, mâsorry.â
as soon as the words leave his mouth, he goes right back to drinking, taking long, deep drags and swallowing audibly. heâs rutting faster against your thigh now, having never let up since he started. there's hardly any friction with how much he's leaking. knowing he's this worked up from drinking the milk you created has your thighs clenching together, your hand on his cheek sliding down your body to circle your clit. gris notices and lays his arm over enjin to palm at your still engorged unoccupied breast, pinching and tugging at the dark nipple to provide you more stimulation. milk beads over his fingers, running down his wrist in pearly rivulets.
enjin pulls off, hips stuttering. his chin is slick with spit and milk as he looks up at you. he already looks ruined from just a little breastfeeding. "can-hah-can i cum? please? i've been so good, i promise i'll be so good just-fuck, oh fuck please!"
you look to gris and he nods. you turn your head back to enjin with a soft smile on your lips and stroke his hair, "yes, baby. you can cum."
he keens, high and whiny, and smushes his mouth back on your tit. he's sucking again, but it's so sloppy you doubt he's even getting any in his mouth. his hips jerk once, twice, before he's moaning long and loud. his spend smears across your hot skin.
"thank you thank you tha-"
"hush, sweet boy, it's okay. you did so good, we're so proud of you," you murmur. "i think it's your turn to take care of daddy now. i bet he would love to fuck that cute little hole, hm?"
Paring: Obsessive Captain John Price x Wife Reader
Description: When Captain John Price returns from a brutal three-month deployment, his only focus is reclaiming the quiet sanctuary of home and burying himself in the warmth of his wife. But the hard-earned peace shatters the moment he notices the subtle tension in her touch and the apprehension in her eyes. Learning that a new neighbor has crossed the line into obsessive, intrusive behavior while he was away awakens a dark, lethal territorialism in the Task Force 141 commander. Unflinching and dangerously calm, Price makes it glaringly clear to the intruder, and the rest of the worldâthat his wife is entirely off-limits, protected by a man who will tear through anyone foolish enough to threaten what is his.
---
The calendar on the kitchen wall had become a graveyard of red ink, every bold cross marking another day survived in the quiet, echoing house. Thirty days. Four weeks of sleeping on Johnâs side of the bed just to catch the faint, lingering scent of tobacco and cedar on his pillow. Four weeks of checking the secure phone every twenty minutes, waiting for an encrypted ping that rarely came. Deployments were always grueling, but this last month of his classified operation had felt agonizingly long, made infinitely worse by the heavy footsteps residing in the apartment directly across the hall.
The flat across from yours and John's had sat vacant for over a year, a quiet buffer between your life and the rest of the building. That changed at the beginning of the month when a towering, broad-shouldered firefighter named Marcus moved in. At first, he seemed harmless enough, polite, quick to hold the heavy lobby doors open, and always offering a warm, easy smile when you passed each other in the corridor. But it didn't take long for that friendly demeanor to twist into something claustrophobic.
It started with small, unprompted gestures. A potted plant left outside your entrance with a hand-written note wishing you a good week. Then came the fresh bouquets of flowers resting against your welcome mat every few mornings, accompanied by casual invites to grab a drink down the street or let him take a look at a leak in your bathroom. Every polite refusal you gave seemed to slide right off him, serving only to fuel his persistence. He knew you lived alone, heâd outright mentioned noticing that no one else ever unlocked your door, and with John off the grid on a high-risk mission, you had no way to warn your husband, no encrypted channel to type out the uncomfortable truth. You were trapped in a waiting game, counting down the hours until Task Force 141âs commander returned to claim his space.
The final red cross on the calendar felt like a victory. Today was the day John was coming back to you.
Wanting to look your best for his return, you pulled on a breezy, flowy white dress that brushed against your ankles, pairing it with low wedge sandals. You swept your thick, curly hair up into a high pineapple style, letting the curls spill over the top, before grabbing your purse and car keys off the entry table. It was time to drive to the base and finally bring your husband home.
Before touching the doorknob, you leaned forward to look through the peephole, a paranoid, skin-crawling habit you had unfortunately grown accustomed to over the last few weeks. The dimly lit hallway across from your door appeared completely empty. Marcus wasn't waiting at his frame. Breathing a small sigh of relief, you pulled the door open, stepped into the corridor, and pulled it shut behind you.
The sharp click of your key turning in the lock echoed in the quiet hallway.
Click.
The sound of Marcusâs front door unlatching across the hall was instantaneous.
You froze, key still in the lock, as his heavy frame stepped out into the corridor. He wasn't in his firefighter uniform; instead, he wore a fitted t-shirt that showed off his broad chest and arms, leaning his shoulder against his doorframe with a slow, deliberate grin. His eyes swept over you, lingering heavy and unashamed on the white dress, the exposed line of your neck, and the way your hair was styled.
"Well, look at you," Marcus said, his voice smooth and dripping with unwanted familiarity as he crossed his arms. "Where are you heading all dressed up like that on a Tuesday afternoon?"
You instinctively pull your purse closer, turning your body slightly away from him as you slide your car keys into your palm.
"I'm on my way to pick up my husband," you say, keeping your tone clipped and firm, refusing to offer him a smile.
Marcus doesn't budge. Instead, his grin widens into a patronizing smirk, his gaze dropping to your bare left hand. "Husband?" he chuckles, letting out a low, disbelieving huff as he takes a slow step into the narrow hallway, narrowing the space between you. "Come on, now. Youâve been living here alone for a whole month. No ring on your finger, no car in your spot, no guy ever coming through that door."
He leans his shoulder against the wall just a few feet away, blocking the direct path toward the stairs. His eyes trace the line of your dress again with an uncomfortable, possessive weight.
"You're not married, sweetheart," Marcus says smoothly, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial purr. "You don't have to make up some ghost story just to play hard to get with me. A girl as beautiful as you shouldn't be spending her afternoons lying to the guy across the hall."
You roll your eyes, the sheer absurdity of his arrogance cutting straight through your discomfort. Without giving him another second of your time or another word of breath, you sweep right past him. The hem of your white dress brushes against his jeans as you bypass his broad frame, stepping quickly down the stairwell before he even has a chance to reach out or stop you.
"Hey....wait a minute!" Marcus calls down the hall, his confident smirk faltering into confusion, but you don't look back.
You burst through the heavy glass doors of the lobby and stride straight to your sleek white SUV parked in the driveway. Beeping the unlock button, you hop into the driver's seat, toss your purse onto the passenger side, and slam the door shut, immediately locking it. You press the push-to-start button, the engine roaring to life, and shift into drive before pulling out onto the main road with a sharp press of the accelerator.
The anger and unsettling grease of the interaction fade with every mile you put between yourself and the apartment complex. As the city buildings give way to the sprawling perimeter fence of the military base, your heart rate shifts from agitation to sheer anticipation. Passing through the security checkpoint with your high-clearance spousal pass, you navigate the familiar roads toward the secure tarmac where Task Force 141's transport is scheduled to land.
---
The sleek white SUV had barely come to a complete stop near the edge of the tarmac before you were out of the driver's seat.
Standing beside a dark transport vehicle, surrounded by the deafening hum of idling jet engines and tactical gear being unloaded, was John. He was still in his dark combat fatigues, a heavy duffel slung over one broad shoulder, his short beard dusted with dirt and sweat from the long flight back. The moment his sharp blue eyes caught sight of you, a vision in white cutting across the grey concrete, the exhausted, stone-faced Commander completely dissolved.
He dropped his duffel bag to the ground with a heavy thud, taking long, forceful strides toward you. Before you could even utter his name, his large arms wrapped around your waist, hauling you effortlessly off your feet and pulling you flush against his chest.
"God, sweetheart," John rasped into your hair, his voice a low, rough rumble against your ear.
He held you with an almost suffocating intensity, his hands burying themselves in the small of your back and the nape of your neck, crushing the delicate white fabric of your dress against his heavy tactical vest. He pressed his face deep into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, grounding himself in the scent of your skin after weeks of gunpowder, dirt, and blood.
"Missed you," he murmured, his warm breath fanning against your collarbone as he set your feet back on the ground, though he refused to let go. His broad hands framed your face, his calloused thumbs gently wiping away a tear you hadn't realized had slipped down your cheek. His gaze swept over you, possessive and fiercely tender. "Missed you so bloody much. Look at you... absolutely stunning."
You slide your hands up his broad chest, framing his jawline, and bring him down into a deep, lingering kiss that tastes like dust and tobacco. John groans softly against your lips, his hands instantly tightening around your waist, pulling you so close there isn't a sliver of air between you.
When you pull back just enough to breathe, you wrap your fingers firmly around the collar of his uniform jacket, tugging him down to your eye level with a look that means absolute business.
"I missed you so much," you say, your voice soft at first before hardening into a sharp, uncompromising threat. You yank his collar just a fraction tighter. "If you ever leave me alone for that long again, you are done, Price. Do you hear me? I will lock the doors and you are never leaving the house again."
John blinks, his sharp blue eyes widening slightly as he stares down at his gorgeous, fierce wife in her flowy white dress. For a fraction of a second, the legendary, fear-inducing commander of Task Force 141 looks genuinely intimidated. A slow, bemused smirk tugs at the corner of his mustache beneath his stunned expression.
"Yes, love," John rumbles quickly, raising his hands in a mock gesture of total surrender. "Understood. Message received loud and clear."
He leans down to press a firm, fervent kiss to your forehead, his low chuckle vibrating through his chest as he wraps his arm securely back around your waist. "Now come on... get me home before you decide to start my house arrest early."
John tossed his heavy duffel bag into the back seat before rounding the front of the sleek white SUV to take the keys from your hand. He slid into the driver's seat, adjusting the mirrors to fit his broad frame, the familiar scent of leather, dirt, and fresh air filling the cabin. The engine hummed to life under his touch, but before shifting into drive, he turned his head to look at you, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand where it rested on the center console.
"So," John began, his low, gravelly voice filling the space between you, "anything happen while I was off grid? Everything quiet around the flat?"
You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around his big, warm hand. "We have a new neighbor," you said softly, your eyes fixing on the dashboard.
John raised an eyebrow, his sharp gaze immediately honing in on the sudden change in your demeanor. "Yeah? Across the hall?" He paused, his tone casual, though his military instincts were already quietly sharpening. "Are they nice?"
"A little too nice," you murmured, your grip on his fingers turning almost desperate, knuckles going white as a sudden wave of tension locked up your shoulders.
The moment the words left your mouth, John felt the sudden, rigid stiffness in your body. The warmth in his eyes instantly evaporated, replaced by a cold, deadly focus. He didn't pull his hand away; instead, his broad fingers squeezed yours back in a firm, grounding hold, his knuckles turning white as he processed the fear radiating off you.
"Look at me, sweetheart," John commanded softly, his voice dropping into that dangerously low, calm register he used right before a breach. His blue eyes locked onto yours, sharp as flint. "What does 'too nice' mean? What did he do?"
You opened your mouth to answer, the uncomfortable words forming on your tongue, when the harsh, jarring buzz of Johnâs encrypted satellite phone cut through the quiet cabin.
John didn't take his eyes off you for a full three seconds, his jaw clenched tight as the device vibrated furiously against the center console. Finally, with a sharp exhale, he reached down and tapped the speaker button without breaking his gaze on your face.
"Price," he grunted, his voice laced with pure, dangerous gravel.
"Boss, sorry to bother you so soon," Gazâs clear, accent-heavy voice echoed through the car's speakers, crisp despite the encrypted line. "Just wrapping up the debrief with Shepherdâs team. Intelligence flagged a potential leak tied to the safehouses near the district. Weâre doing a sweeping sweep of the surrounding grid. You clear of the tarmac?"
"I'm in the vehicle with my wife," John replied, his tone clipped, authoritative, and completely icy. "I'm heading home. Keep the line clear unless it's a direct threat to my coordinates, Garrick."
"Understood, Captain. Just wanted to make sure you were off the X. Weâll handle the paperwork from here. Get some rest."
"Right. Out."
John ended the call with a single tap of his thumb, tossing the phone onto the dashboard. The silence that settled back over the SUV was suffocating. He turned his torso fully toward you, leaning in closer, his big, calloused hand reaching out to gently cup the side of your neck, his thumb soothingly tracing your jawline.
"Gaz is handling the base," John said softly, his blue eyes searching yours with an intense, unwavering focus. "Now... tell me everything about this neighbor."
"I'll show you when we get inside," you murmured, keeping your eyes on his. "He's been leaving things. Gifts. I threw them out, took photos of everything just in case."
Johnâs grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned pale, a dark muscle ticking in his jaw. He didn't say another word on the drive back, his silent, suffocating aura radiating through the vehicle like a storm brewing just off the coast.
When you pulled into the underground garage of your building, John was out of the driver's side before the engine even cut completely. He grabbed his heavy duffel, his hand immediately finding the small of your back to usher you toward the elevator. The ride up to the third floor was thick with a heavy, dangerous quiet.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding.
John stepped out first, instinctively placing his broad frame between you and the corridor as he scanned the hallway with practiced, lethal precision. You followed closely behind him, the heels of your wedges clicking softly against the floorboards. But as you approached your front door, you froze.
Resting right in the middle of your welcome mat was a fresh, lavish bouquet of long-stemmed red roses, wrapped in clear cellophane with a small white card tucked inside.
You stopped dead in your tracks, stomach churning with pure revulsion. You pointed down at the flowers, turning your face toward your husband with absolute disgust written across your features. "See?" you whispered, your voice laced with irritation and discomfort. "He left another one."
John slowly lowered his gaze to the roses sitting on his threshold.
For three terrifying seconds, the corridor went dead silent. The Task Force 141 commander didn't move a muscle. His sharp blue eyes locked onto the bouquet, his chest rising and falling in a slow, calculated breath as the air around him turned icy cold. The sheer, possessive rage radiating off him was palpable.
---
Before the door across the hall could swing fully open, John grabbed the bouquet off the mat by its stems, unlocked your apartment, and ushered you inside, slamming the heavy front door behind you. The deadbolt engaged with a sharp, authoritative click. He tossed the roses straight into the entryway trash bin like a piece of hazardous waste.
You led him into the bright kitchen, pulling out your phone to swipe through the photo gallery. You handed the screen over to him, showing him clear, dated pictures of the various boxes of chocolates, handwritten notes, and potted plants Marcus had been leaving on your doorstep over the past month, along with the note explaining you had tossed every single one.
John stared down at the screen, his face an unreadable, stone-cold mask. But as he looked up from the phone, his sharp blue eyes caught the way you were standing. Even at your tall stature, your shoulders were pulled in tight, your arms crossed tightly over the chest of your white dress, a subtle tremor running through your frame as the built-up anxiety of the last month finally caught up to you.
The hardened, dangerous soldier instantly shifted.
John stepped across the kitchen tile, his massive, broad frame easily towering over you as he closed the distance. He didn't just step close; he completely enveloped you, stepping directly into your personal space. His heavy, calloused hands came up to frame the sides of your face, his thumbs gently sweeping across your cheekbones before sliding down to rest securely against your neck. He pulled you flush against his chest, shielding you entirely from the rest of the world.
"Look at me, sweetheart," John rumbled, his voice dropping into a low, thick register that vibrated straight against your forehead as he rested his against yours. His large hands moved down to wrap tightly around your waist, holding you with an intense, possessive grip that left zero doubt you were safe.
"Take a breath," he murmured softly, his blue eyes searching yours with a mix of fierce tenderness and lethal resolve. "You're done dealing with this alone. Explain everything to me, love. Every word he said to you, every time he looked at you. Don't leave a single detail out."
Taking a deep breath, you let the weight of the last four weeks spill out. You told him everything: how Marcus had started off seemingly polite, how the unsolicited gifts began to appear, the invasive questions about your schedule, and the lingering stares every time you left the flat. You described how he constantly brought up the fact that you lived alone, insidiously hinting that your husband wasn't coming back.
The tipping point came when you told him about what happened just an hour ago before you left to pick him up.
"I tried to tell him I was going to pick up my husband," you said, your voice tight with lingering anger. "And he just smirked at me, John. He looked right at my hand and said, 'You're not married, sweetheart. You don't have to make up some ghost story just to play hard to get.'"
The moment the words left your mouth, the temperature in the kitchen plummeted.
John didn't roar, and he didn't smash anything. Instead, he went utterly, terrifyingly still. The large hand cupping your neck tightened just enough to ground you, his thumb smoothing over your pulse point while his knuckles turned stark white. A dark, dangerous muscle ticked in his jaw, his blue eyes narrowing into two icy slits that held the promise of unspeakable violence.
"A ghost story, is it?" John rumbled softly. His voice wasn't just lowâit was a sub-zero, lethal murmur that made a shiver run down your spine.
He leaned down, pressing a firm, heavy kiss to the center of your forehead, inhaling deeply as if anchoring his composure before it cracked wide open.
"Stay in the kitchen, love," Price instructed quietly, his tone laced with absolute, uncompromising authority as he gently unclasped your hands from his chest and stepped back. "I'm going to introduce myself to our new neighbor."
Before you could even utter a word of caution, John turned on his heel. He didn't bother changing out of his dust-covered combat trousers or heavy tactical boots. He strode across the living room with the slow, deliberate stride of an apex predator, unlocked the heavy front door, and stepped out into the hallway, leaving the door wide open behind him.
Across the hall, Marcus's apartment door was still ajar.
John didn't knock. He simply used the flat of his hand to shove Marcus's door fully open, the heavy wood slamming against the interior wall with a crack that echoed like a gunshot through the corridor.
"What the hell..." Marcus started, stepping out of his kitchen with a scowl, his broad firefighter frame bracing for a fight.
That scowl instantly vanished the moment he looked up.
Standing in his entryway was Captain John Price. Towering, broad-shouldered, dusted in combat dirt, and radiating a suffocating, lethal aura that filled the entire hallway.
John stepped directly into Marcus's personal space, forcing the larger man to take an involuntary step backward into his own living room. Price didn't draw a weapon; he didn't need to. He placed one heavy, calloused hand against Marcus's sternum, arresting the man's movement with effortless, stone-wall strength, and leaned down so his face was inches from his.
"I hear you've been having trouble with your memory, son," John said, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly register that vibrated with raw malice. "Word on the floor is you think my wife is a liar. You think I'm a ghost."
Marcus went dead pale, his mouth opening and closing as he stared into the unblinking, terrifying blue eyes of a man who had survived a hundred war zones. "Listen, man....I didn't know....she never said.."
"She told you," John interrupted softly, his grip tightening against Marcus's chest just enough to knock the wind out of him. "And then you stepped onto my threshold. You left your trash at my door. You looked at what belongs to me like it was up for grabs."
Price leaned in closer, his mustache almost brushing Marcus's ear, his voice lowering into an absolute, chilling decree.
"So let me make this painfully clear so your firefighter brain comprehends it. You don't look across that hall. You don't leave another flower, another note, or another breath of air near my wife. If I so much as catch your eyes wandering toward my door again, I won't just consider it a nuisance; I will treat it as an active threat to my home. And I eliminate threats permanently. Am I making myself clear?"
Marcus swallowed hard, his throat clicking, his posture entirely broken. "Yeah," he choked out, nodding frantically. "Yeah. Clear. I'm sorry."
"Good lad," John rumbled darkly.
He patted Marcus's cheek twice, a patronizing, humiliating gesture, before turning on his heel and walking back across the corridor. He stepped inside your flat, pulled the heavy door shut, and engaged every single lock with a final, decisive clack.
John stood in the foyer for a moment, letting out a long, slow exhale through his nose. When he turned back toward the kitchen where you were watching, the terrifying, lethal commander instantly vanished. A dark, intensely possessive warmth flooded his expression as he unzipped his heavy jacket, tossed it onto a chair, and crossed the room straight to you.
Without a word, he scooped you into his arms, lifting you right off your feet and settling you onto the kitchen counter. He stepped between your knees, framing your face in his large hands, and brought his lips down onto yours in a deep, fierce, claiming kiss that stole the breath right out of your lungs.
"Nobody touches what's mine," John growled against your lips, his heavy hands gripping your waist through the soft white fabric of your dress, pulling you flush against his chest. "You're safe now, sweetheart. I'm not letting you out of my sight."
A soft, genuine laugh escaped your chest, the suffocating tension that had weighed on your shoulders for the past month finally evaporating completely. You reached up, intertwining your fingers with Johnâs large, calloused hand, and gently pulled him off the kitchen counter to lead him into the living room.
John allowed himself to be dragged along willingly, his sharp blue eyes never leaving your face, a subtle, fond smirk softening the hard lines around his mouth.
Once you reached the edge of the plush sofa, you turned around to face him, keeping your grip tight on his hand. You looked up into the eyes of the man who had just handled a threat with terrifying ease, feeling a deep, unyielding warmth bloom in your chest.
"I love you," you said softly, your voice completely genuine.
Before he could respond, your expression hardened into a playful yet entirely serious glare. You gave his hand a firm, uncompromising tug. "And I meant every single word of what I said at the base. If you ever leave me alone for that long again, Captain, you are done. I will personally padlock the front door, turn off your satellite phone, and keep you chained to this house."
John let out a deep, chest-rumbling chuckle, the sound rich and full of affection. He didn't pull his hand away; instead, he stepped directly into your space, wrapping his other arm securely around your waist to haul you up against him until there wasn't a sliver of air between your bodies.
"Is that a promise, love?" John rumbled into your ear, his heavy mustache brushing against your skin as he leaned down, his voice dropping into that dark, dangerously possessive register. "Because keeping me locked up in this house with you for the rest of my life doesn't sound like much of a punishment."
He pulled back just enough to look down into your eyes, his large hand coming up to cup the back of your head, fingers tangling gently into your curls. The humor in his expression melted into a quiet, fiercely intense devotion.
"I love you too, sweetheart," Price murmured, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips. "And you have my word... next time Command tries to ship me off for three months, they're going to have to fight both of us to get me out that door."
Synopsis: The Captain doesn't play about his wife.
A/N: Hello!! My second call of duty fic! Woohoo!! Working through some old drafts of mine too currently really trying to get more into this again! Requests for call of duty are open!
Warnings: mentions of gun use, cursing, angst, fluff, wife reader, mentions of violence,fighting, creeps
Masterlist
John had warned you that your forgetfulness would get you in trouble one day if you weren't careful.
You didn't think that would be today though and honestly this wouldn't have happened if he hadn't forgotten his document folder at home.
Due to him forgetting first you now sat in a military prison cell shaking from the cold air. Also terrified of the other people they had in here waiting to be moved out.
You tugged at the cuffs behind your back again wincing as they dug into your wrist. A man in his cuffs across from you smiled chuckling below his breath.
"How did a sweet thing like you get locked in here huh?" His gruff voice rung out through the cell. The other two men looked at you too awaiting your answer.
You nervously swallowed grimacing looking at the three men, thankfully, also cuffed behind their backs like you. They all gave a smile to each other as if coming to a consensus that they'd get along just to make you squirm.
It was a good question the man had asked though.
How did you end up here?
The day had started out normal enough, you woke up early to send John off to work. You always made sure to wake up just to send him off. Even though, he'd rather you sleep in.
You always did have trouble falling back to sleep after he left, but still made it a point to get up to kiss him goodbye.
A tradition you had no intent to break.
"You'll call me if you need anything?" John murmured against your lips pulling back to caress your cheek. A tired smile formed on your face as you nodded.
"Yes love you..Don't forget anything." You warned him. John shook his head gently slapping your rear before pulling back from the bed.
"I don't forget things. You do dear." He chuckled walking towards the door. "I love you." He called out closing the door after.
Your husband wasn't lying about that either.
He swore your head wasn't screwed on right sometimes. It would be your phone, your wallet, and your keys.
John hated when it was your keys.
There's been too many times he's had to go take the extra one to you because you locked yourself out, but he went each time no matter what.
Because of how much he loved you.
His sanctuary.
The calm that he needed after all the rough missions he did for work.
His forgetful wife.
John didn't care if you forgot even though he'd lecture you constantly. He would still go each time then let you struggle.
Struggling for you was a no no in his book. He had promised you that his wife would never have any troubles with him around.
Especially if he knew he'd be gone for a long deployment.
He always left an emergency fund in your purse incase you forgot your wallet. He had an alarm on your phone that would ring if you got too far from it so you wouldn't leave it.
His phone had an app on it that allowed your car to unlock if he was from a distance from you now. If on the off chance you managed to lock yourself out again.
You'd been getting better with it, but John more often then not had to still go help you sometimes. It made you feel guilty at times, but he always assured you.
No matter what he would come for you. Even if it was a paper cut and you called he would come home for that.
This morning though, he had been the forgetful one. John internally cursed himself once he made it to the base. The mission debrief paperwork for his afternoon meeting was sitting on his desk in his office at home.
He dreaded troubling you, but knew with his schedule he wouldnât have time to go get it. The papers being that important though, left him no choice but to call you.
Obviously you didn't mind. You were ecstatic to be the one going to help your husband this time.
"Now when you get to the front. Just tell them that you're there to see me alright love and then I'll go for you." John spoke warmly through the phone.
"Okay honey. I'll be there soon." You promised him. "I'll be okay too on the drive." You reassured him after already knowing what was coming.
"You minx couldn't even let me say it." He shook his head. "Humor me though and call me once you're here."
"I will now bye." You hung up before he could continue his lecture. That was your mistake though.
You set your phone down on the counter walking to his office to grab the folder. Too excited to go see John, you forgot to grab your phone again on your way out.
You hadn't noticed until you were already halfway there. It shouldn't matter though. John had told you to let them know you were there to see him.
Once you arrived, you walked to the gate smiling at the three recruits standing at the front. You made sure to come dressed nice too. It wasnât often you got to visit your husband while he worked.
One of the recruits smoking a cigarette raised an eyebrow though once you approached.
"Um hi so sorry to bother, but I'm delivering this for Captain John Price." You greeted them holding the folder on your side.
They eyed you suspiciously immediately on guard. No one ever came to see John Price unless they themselves were military. You adjusted your stance growing nervous under their gaze.
"What business do you have with the captain?" The one in the middle spoke up moving to stand in front of you. You looked up at him pointing at the folder.
"He asked me to bring this for him-"
"Lies." The one on the right interrupted you. "Captain wouldn't trust a civilian to deliver an item for him."
"No you misunderstand-"
"A pretty thing like you too? You have to be a spy." The one standing on the left moved closer. They were cornering you. You took an instinctive step back.
"Look listen I'm his wife! He asked me to bring these documents for him! You could call him and ask-" One of them moved closer ripping the folder from your arm.
"Hey give that back! It's his!" You tried to grab it yelping as the one who had spoke first shoved you back roughly. A small wince leaving you as your back hit the floor.
They opened the file reading it over. Their eyes widening. These paper works were mission reports for the task force. No one, but the captain should have these.
"How did you get these?" The recruit on the left yelled at you standing over you as you scrambled to get back up from the rough shove. You winced seeing the scrape on your arm bleeding.
"I'm telling you. He's my husband! I didn't even open the folder! He just asked me to come drop them off-"
"Nice try!" The recruit standing to the right began to laugh shaking his head. "A man like the Captain wouldn't have a wife."
Your eyes narrowed now. "Don't insult my husband that way. I am his wife. Look I have my wallet-" You dug through your bag realizing your wallet with your ID was sitting in your car.
You had taken it out when you stopped at the gas station to fuel up before driving up here.
"Yeah like I thought you're scrambling to come up with a lie. We'll have to take you into custody since you had highly sensitive information!" The one who had shoved you yelled in your face.
"No call him! Or Lieutenant Riley! He'll know who I am too!" You weakly spoke wincing as the other two grabbed your arms to hold you back.
The one who had shoved you moved behind you cuffing your arms uncaring of the scrape bleeding on your arm.
"Please don't do this.." You asked them shaking now in slight fear. They ignored your roughly dragging you to the cells. The guard watching the prisoners below you both had raised a questioning eyebrow once he saw you.
He swore he recognized you from somewhere.
"We have a spy who was holding secret documents." The recruit who had shoved you spoke showing the folder. "We'll tell one of the sergeants and the lieutenant when we see them for now keep this spy here!"
He pushed you into the cell. You looked around surrounded by three other people who had been taken in. Big burly men who were now looking at you like a meal.
That's what led to now.
You sitting in the cell shaking. You looked at the guard. "Please this is a misunderstanding just call one of the commanding officers since you won't call the captain. Don't I get a phone call actually too!"
"Not a normal prison m'am." The guard spoke standing outside.
Tears welled in your eyes now as you looked down. John had been right. Your forgetfulness did get you in trouble.
One of the men in the cell moved sitting two feet from you now. You scooted to the corner hoping someone you knew would come soon.
John was getting worried now. He knew from the time you should've made it to the base by now. His hand stayed on his phone in his pocket anxiously. Not waiting anymore, he pulled it out trying to call you just to receive nothing but your voicemail.
John didn't like this. Something was off.
The recruit who had the file and who had been one of the people who had you locked up smiled proudly as he walked into Lieutenant Riley's office.
"Lieutenant I am proud to say that we caught a spy at the gates." He spoke up smiling.
Ghost locked up instantly hearing his words. A spy here?
That didn't happen often.
"What was that?" He asked again wanting to make sure he heard correctly. Soap who had been sitting in the desk next to Ghost immediately looked up now catching the conversation.
"A spy? Why would a spy try going through the front gate?" Soap looked at Ghost. They both nodded moving to stand.
"Did you lock up this spy?" Soap asked him now reaching for the folder to look through it.
The recruit nodded eagerly almost excited to be recognized for his hard work. He handed the folder to Soap. "Yeah some stupid women. Thought she could lie her way in. Tried using her pretty looks to trick us." He scoffed.
"A women brought these?" Soap asked him immediately alert.
These files were the ones Price had informed them that he had forgotten at home. He said they were getting delivered.
"Yeah she put up a fight too. We locked her up with the other three prison mates. Hopefully those animals teach her a lesson." The recruit smiled unknowing of the mistake he was making.
There's only one person they knew who could deliver these. The same women who always sent extra food with Price's lunch incase one of them didn't have food.
The same women who invited them over and cooked them dinner at least once a week when they had time.
Ghost tensed once he read the folder after Soap passed them. "Johnny." He spoke once.
"On it L.T." He raced out of the room already rushing to the prison cells. The recruit raised an eyebrow watching Soap run out of the room.
Ghost looked at him grimly, "Sit down now. I'm calling the other two recruits." He ordered out. "And Captain." He sighed out knowing the hell that was going to break loose once Price heard about this.
Soap rushed into the prison cell. His eyes widened once he saw you. You looked terrified and battered. "Christ I was hoping it really was a spy."
"Oh thank god!" You stood up immediately seeing him. "Please-"
"I'm on it don't worry." He reassured you looking at the guard. "Let her out right now."
"What?" The guard asked in confusion. "She hasn't been interrogated."
"I wasn't asking." Soap looked at him angrily. "This women isn't meant to be down here. Now let her out. That's an order." He grabbed the keys from the guard himself opening it. "Come on lass."
The guard's eyes widened now recognizing you now. John had a small picture of you in his office in the back. He kept it small not wanting the risk of anyone fully finding you.
You sniffled holding your tears back standing up to leave. Soap winced seeing the bruises left on your arms and the scrape on your elbow. He undid the cuffs on you wrapping his arm around your shoulder to lead you away.
Once you left the cells you spoke again, "Johnny..I left my wallet in my car so I couldn't show my ID and they didn't believe me." Your voice cracked.
"It's alright okay. We're already telling Captain what happened." Soap explained gently guiding you to Ghost's office.
You tensed seeing the three recruits who had locked you in the cell sitting there. Their eyes widened once they saw you. Ghost let out a long exhale seeing the state you were in.
"I'm sorry we didn't get to you sooner." The recruits looked in shock hearing the infamous Ghost genuinely apologizing to someone.
"It's okay. Where's John?" You asked him wiping your tears away.
"On his way. Just need you to confirm. These the men that locked you up?" Ghost asked you. Soap moved to stand beside Ghost now glaring angrily at the men.
You nodded looking at them. "Yes they are..they shoved me to the ground and locked me up." A small cry escaped from you. Ghost nodded seeing the way your shoulders shook.
"It's alright Mrs. Price." He emphasized your last name glaring holes into the men. They all froze hearing him say your name before looking at each other.
"What?" One of them spoke up in shock. The other two grew tense. "You're joking right?" The one who spoke looked at them.
Soap laughed darkly just as angry as Simon was. The first thing John had ever told them when they met you was that your safety when you were on base and off base was their top priority above anything else.
You were beloved by the team.
"Oh my god." You looked up seeing John standing at the door in shock. Gaz was behind him having followed seeing John run this way after Simon's call.
"Love.." He breathed out immediately at your side. John let out a deep breath caressing your wet cheeks. "Who did this?" He growled out looking at the team.
Simon pointed at the three recruits. John glared at them watching the three men begin to squirm realizing the huge mistake they made.
"You made my wife bleed." His voice rang out through the quiet room. John inspected the scrape on your elbow and the bruises.
"They had her locked in the cells with the other prisoners too." Soap grinned staring at the recruits with a smug expression.
"You mean to tell me the three disgusting men we caught not too long ago were close to her?" John's voice boomed out angrily. His hands shook as he held your cheeks.
He took in a deep breath more to calm himself not wanting you to see him this way. Not his pretty wife who looked so shaken.
"C'mon love let's go." He gave you a small smile helping you stand. "Lieutenant. Keep them here until I return. Soap and Garrick if they try to run tie them down." John glared at the men again leading you out.
He walked you to his office gently sitting you down in his comfy chair he kept for himself to take naps in if he needed it. His hands inspected your skin.
"Oh my sweet love I'm so sorry.." He whispered seeing the wounds you sustained. "You're not hurt anywhere else are you?" He asked you.
"No no John I'm okay-"
"Don't lie to me. I can see it from here that you're not okay. I shouldn't have had you come out here." His hands cradled your cheeks wiping away your tears. "Seeing you upset like this kills me."
"Honey I'm okay. Just a bit shaken up. The cells were scary." You admitted looking down. John nodded kissing your head.
"I know they are for my sweet wife. I never wanted you to be anywhere near there." He let out a heavy sigh. "Let me patch up this cut for you and I'll have one of the lads take you home-"
"My car is here." You interrupted him looking at him worriedly. John shushed you kissing you softly. His bread scratched your cheeks as he pressed his lips to yours. He pulled back after running his hand over your head.
"But John it was my fault. I forgot my phone at home and my wallet was in the car-" John chuckled at your words shaking his head.
"Now you don't worry about that. It's not your fault you hear me? Even if you forgot it that didn't give them a right to touch you at all. You leave that for me to handle yeah?" He spoke firmly grabbing your chin for your full attention.
"Okay.." You gave in as he grabbed his first aid kit gently patching you up.
Your arm was wrapped in gauze now. John gently kissed the area after over the bandage. A silent apology for you getting hurt in the first place.
He wrapped his jacket around you after guiding you outside the base. "Order your favorite tonight for dinner and when I get home we'll watch your favorite movie."
"The princess bride? Wait you don't want me to cook?" Your eyes widened as a smile formed on your lips.
John nodded kissing you gently, "Yes even though I am sick of the movie. We will watch it. I'm not letting my bloody wife cook after she got hurt too. So order whatever you want." He caressed your cheek happy to see some of your spark return.
"Gaz is gonna take you home okay." He kissed you once more before sending you off with a soft kiss and a loving goodbye.
"John I know you..what are you going to do?" You looked at him growing worried. You knew how your husband was.
He held your hand helping you into the car bending down to look at you through the window after he closed the door.
John simply smiled at you kissing your cheek. "Nothing for your pretty little head to worry about love." He gentle gave you a smile. The husk in his voice you noticed almost immediately.
You had only seen this look in his eyes once. Only once.
John has done worse to men for a lot less.
He was already planning out the ways these men would pay. He knows Simon and Johnny wouldn't mind helping him either.
It's a shame too. He thought one of those men had actual potential.
These men weren't seeing the light of day.
The sight of your tears, the blood on your soft skin, and the bruises on the arms that held him every night. The same ones he kissed and worshipped when you were in bed and he had the honor of taking you..
Was all he needed to see to know these men would be lucky if they lived to see the next day at all.
"Now love go home and rest okay. We'll talk more when I get home." He turned to Gaz after nodding at him. "Get her home Garrick."
John turned after walking back in rubbing at his jaw letting out the heavy deep breath he had been holding. A smile of disbelief forming on his face.
He pushed the door open to Simon's office taking one look at the recruits. "You three on your feet now." He barked looking at Soap and Ghost.
"Stand behind them one of them tries to run shoot them."
This wasn't Captain Price.
This was John Price and his wife was manhandled without his knowledge and put near people vile. The filth he promised he would never let her see.
The recruits followed each of them pale in the face now. They looked down knowing they messed up. Even if they did think you were a spy he should've called their commanding officer before even thinking of putting hands on you.
John took them outside the base once they all were a good distance. He turned facing them asking one question.
"Who shoved her first?" He asked them.
They stood frozen yelping as Ghost and Soap shoved them down to their knees. John raised his hands. "Well then none of you want to talk?" He nodded once.
"No no sir it was Private James." The one on the left spoke up quickly. "I was the one who put cuffs on her and Private Lloyd grabbed her roughly."
John stared at them before pulling his fist back letting it swing across Private James face first. Afterwards he panted looking at his Lieutenant and Sergeant.
"Let's see if I decide to kill them or not." He spoke to them.
Later that night, John returned him sighing as he took in the smell of meatloaf one of his favorite dishes of yours. He walked into the kitchen seeing the perfect scene in his mind.
You were standing at the stove mashing potatoes. A smile on your face as you hummed softly not hearing him come in. He quietly approached you wrapping his arms around your waist
"Love didn't I tell you to order food?" He smiled pressing his head into your neck inhaling that sweet scent that was just you.
His wife.
John hummed kissing your neck waiting for you response. "Didn't want you overworking yourself. You had a long day."
"John.." You laughed squirming in his arms, "How could I not cook for you? I know you had an even longer day. Plus I had this planned from the beginning of the day."
He sighed swaying with you before turning you to face him. You reached up grabbing his hands. You didn't need to ask to know what happened the bruises on his knuckles proof enough.
"Hey don't look at that darling.." He pulled your head up kissing your lips. "Just made sure they knew they had the wrong person." He kissed your head.
"John.." You pulled back. He shushed you again kissing your lips.
"So long as I live you will not be hurt ever again darling. He pulled you away from the stove sitting you on the counter. "Now let me love my wife."
John kept kissing you not wanting you to worry about it again.
You didn't need to know that those recruits were in the infirmary. Two of them had broken limbs while the other's face was slightly disfigured.
They wouldn't talk either especially since the only reason they're alive was the promise that they wouldn't say anything.
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18+ MDNI can't stop thinking about married price x younger reader and how he fucks you...
the way john sinks into your warm cunt after a long day, letting out a sigh into your neck, relieved that he finally has you all to himself just like he's been thinking about all day...
the way the sheer girth of his cock splits you open like you've never experienced before with any man, making you feel every ridge and vein sliding against your sensitive walls that leaves you ruined and his completely...
the way he has you on your back, his giant form engulfing you entirely, bodies pressed together and drenched in sweat, his hairy chest squishing your breasts as he thrusts into you so soo deep and hard it reaches places that has you screaming his name just the way he loves...
the way he kisses you while slowly fucking you, claiming you with hungry, frantic movements, saliva everywhere as his tongue slips through your lips and explores your mouth sloppily while holding your jaw in a firm grip as if you're gonna move away, biting your bottom lip and licking the metallic taste of blood, leaving you breathless and your lips bruised and swollen...
the way he grinds into you, not thrusting in and out, just a deep grind and roll of his hips that has your toes curl and your eyes roll back into your skull, your legs closing involuntarily around his waist, nails raking all over his back and teeth sinking into his shoulder that would surely leave him bruised the next day...
the way he overstimulates you, thick cock drilling into your sloppy poor cunt that's feeling too sensitive and raw from all the orgasms he's pulled from you. "shh, it's okay, love. just one more." he coos, "you can give me one more, princess. right?" and you babble away some incoherent words in your dazed state as he pushes you over the edge for the nth time, "theeere you go. my good girl."...
but the bubble you've created bursts when his wife calls. "fuckin hell" he grumbles, head dropping onto your shoulder in disappointment as he slowly pulls out, shushing your little wince by a quick kiss before leaving to answer his phone...
Duo becomes a Trio | Beau Maxwell X reader x Dean Di Laurentis
Summery: Moving collage after a year is not easy. You know no one and no one knows you. that is until you're tackled by a guy on the football team in your first week.
WC: 4K
Warning: Cursing
AN: English is not my first language, I've never written anything with a poly relationship in it and I've never written smut so it's undecided if i will include any in this series.
Also This is like my 5th blog on tumblr at one point or the other i deactivate my blogs just so you're aware. I'm not very reliable when it comes to this.
TACKLED | NEXT >
Dean and Beau are very well known on campus for their friendship. The Hockey player and the footballer. Iconic due, iconic parties. Where one is the other is usually close by. Their families are friends, they are friends.
The unbreakable duo, they read each other very easily. No need to say anything, one look and they know. Nothing could ever tear them apart. well almost nothing. You happened. You came into their lives.
You just transferred to the Briar Art department. You were rushing to class one day with a big canvas in hand, and a big bag over one shoulder. The strap of the bag digging into your shoulder, while the canvas was hard to hold. Your muscles were straining and your hair coming loose and flying in your face wasn't helping you. Balancing everything while trying to rush wasn't the best thing, and for the millionth time you ask yourself why you decided to study art. Pausing to take a break wasn't an option, you just transferred and the professors are still not used to you, the last thing you would want is to give them a bad impression of yourself.
Dean and Beau were playing on the field, throwing a ball back and forth as they talked and joked around. Their friends have long since left them, leaving the best friends alone. They both didn't mind being alone, they liked each other's company, their laughter proof enough of that.
"Come on man, how can you call yourself my friend when you have a throw like that?" Beau teases Dean.
"I'm going easy on you, you wouldn't be able to catch the ball if I gave it my all." Dean throws the ball and Beau catches it with ease.
"Well catch this!" Beau throws harder than Dean and the hockey player walks backwards and catches the ball. "Looks like you can catch balls better than pucks." Dean scoffs and rolls his shoulders, Beau knows that look, he knows Dean will give it his all.
You were lost in thought when you heard someone shout "Heads up!" instinctively you look up and you see a football spinning through the air. Your eyes flick down and you see someone is running backward beneath it, the ball is heading towards you. The guy is smiling not seeing you.
It was as if time slowed down and sped up at the same time. You saw him too late, he was moving fast and you had no time to react. The football just inches out of reach and he's running backwards watching the ball. The moment it touches his fingers, his shoulder hits you, and you're both tumbling down. You let out a scream instinctively, and time seems to speed back up the moment you hit the ground... more like the canvas. That guy falls on top of your hand, the one that was holding the canvas. You heard the fabric tare and the wood groan and break. but so many things were happening at once for you to compute what's happening. You feel the sting in your fingers, the wood digging into your back and the canvas scratching your neck. The air is knocked out of your lungs, someone is swearing nearby and footsteps pounding closer.
The sounds, sensations and pain overwhelming your senses for a long moment.
A beat. Beau hesitates before...
"Fuck, shit, sorry, oh god." He's quick to scramble off you, you stay on the ground blinking slowly seeing the blue sky above you. Seriously? this is your second week, you were rushing and out of every person on campus this had to happen to you. Your hand throbs where his weight had pinned it. You flex your fingers, panic courses through you.
One.
Two
Three.
Four.
Five.
Breath.
Relief.
Then footsteps thunder towards you.
"Nice ca-!" Dean runs over smiling. You groan and the smile on his face slowly slips away. "Shit are you okay?"
Your eyes move from the sky to the two men in front of you, the sun coming up from behind them saving your eyes from the glare of the sun.
"I'm okay." You groan and sit up. Wincing when you place your hand on the ground to push yourself up. Dean and Beau are on either side of you in an instant. Beau's hand is on your back and side, while Deans are on your back and elbow, helping you sit up and stand. "Fuck." Your back cracks and you stretch, your hand is throbbing. "What the hell, you weigh a ton or what." You look at your red fingers open and close your fist testing your mobility once more.
It takes you a moment before you're aware of everyone else around you. Your face flushes as you see other students looking at the three of you, some have their phones up clearly taking pictures. Your second week, and you're probably making it on the uni's front page.
"I'm sorry, we should take you to the clinic." Beau looks guilty, and you can tell it's genuine.
"I have to go to class." You feel a twinge of pain but you have concluded that nothing is broken. You turn to the broken canvas and curse. "What's the chance my professor will believe me when I say a guy tackled me and broke the canvas?" You ask the duo not taking your eyes off of the expensive material.
"How about I tell him?" Beau asks and you look at him finally taking him in, he is good looking you can't deny it. His brown eyes are warm, his brows furrowed in concentration. Your eyes go up to his hair, fluffy falling on his forehead in soft waves, your eyes then drop to his strong nose, lips and then his cleft chin.
"I don't know."
"Come on, no professor can turn down our charm." Dean says and throws his arm over Beau's with a big grin on his face. You take him in, his blonde hair that is just inviting you to run your hands through, blue eyes and a smile that is to die for, and his physique. God both of them. They're athletes for sure, nobody has bodies like that from just the gym.
"I guess I have nothing to lose, come on then Prince Charming and Flynn."
"Wh-what?" Beau says confused.
"Oh sorry, I don't know your names." You say and hold out your hand introducing yourself.
"I'm Beau, and this is Dean." Beau shakes your hand and you take note of his muscular arm. Dean bends down and takes the broken canvas. Beau takes your bag.
"Good thing this was empty." Dean says and you hum.
"Yeah, but now I have to find a new one." You say and they flank you as you make your way to the art department. You're still aware of the people around you, the eyes that follow you, and you wonder just how popular these two are.
"I'll buy you a new one, the least I can do." Beau says instantly.
"That's kind of you but I ordered this online and it took a week to come, the art store close by didn't have any this size." You sigh. "I could make one if i was back home but I don't think i can make one before the rest of my things are shipped."
"We can help." Dean says and you raise a brow. "Maybe not us, us, but I know someone who is very handy with tools."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Okay it's a deal then."
There's a beat of silence before Beau breaks it.
"I'm sorry." He says again and again you can tell he means it.
"I know it's alright, accidents happen." You shrug. "And now we know that you weigh way more than you look."
"I'll let it pass this time." Beau winks and you giggle.
"I haven't seen you before." Dean comments he's been trying to rack his brain, thinking if he's seen you before.
"Oh so you know everyone around here?" You ask with a raised brow.
"No but I would've remembered you." He winks and you scrunch your nose up.
"Wow there, prince charming." You raise a hand and Beau laughs.
"Looks like someone is immune." Beau hits his shoulder with yours.
"I just transferred, so I've been here for all of two weeks." You tell them. "And I've already been tackled, I am late, and my things aren't shipped... also who the hell are you two, why is everyone staring?"
"I play hockey and he plays football."
"So which is bigger here?" You ask knowing that this question is bound to get any two guys into a debate, and this doesn't disappoint.
"Hockey." Dean says instantly.
"Hockey? are you insane, it's football." Beau says to his friend before he turns to you. "Definatly football."
"Like since when, it's hockey, I'm telling you it's hockey."
"We have a bigger crowd."
"Yeah every once and a while, we have a steady turn out, our bleachers are always filled." Dean fights back.
"Football has eighty guys on the roster."
"Half of them just stand there."
"Strategically."
"Doing nothing strategically is still doing nothing."
"Says the guy who skates around chasing a rubber biscuit."
"Puck."
"Rubber biscuit."
"Puck."
"Children." You interrupted. "You're both pretty."
They stopped.
Dean looked smug.
Beau frowned.
"...Did we just get parented?"
"I think we did."
You're fighting a smile and they stop talking but continue glaring at each other. You're rounding the last corner when you ask. "But who's more athletic?"
Before either of them can say anything you knock on the class door and walk in. Walking into class a few minutes late with both of them behind you was a sight not going to be forgotten soon by your peers.
"Miss y/n, you're late... and brought two guys with you." Your professor looks amused more than anything.
"It's my fault and I was trying to catch a football when I took her down." Dean moves the canvas showing how it's broken. "I might have fallen on her on the canvas."
"Everyone saw the whole thing." Dean said thinking your professor was still not convinced.
"I believe you, but I don't think you'll be able to do anything today." Your professor turns to you. "Your sketches were approved and you're good to start on your painting... I suggest getting a new canvas and starting, show me your progress in the next class."
"Thank you professor." You send him a smile and turn pushing both men out the door.
"That's good, we can go make a new canvas now." Dean said, sounding excited.
"Not so fast hot shot, we need to get the materials first." You say and he lets out an 'ah'. "So who has a car?" you ask and Beau turns to Dean.
"Let's go then Picasso."
"Ew no, not Picasso." You face twists at the neckname
"Okay, we don't like Picasso then." Dean notes. "Van Gogh? Farida? Angelo? Bob Ross?"
"Dean?" You say and stop, he stops and looks at you.
"Yes?"
"Shut up." Beau laughs and pushes Dean to walk.
Dean turns on the car and the music starts blasting very loudly, it has both you and Beau cringing and covering your ears, Dean rushes to turn the radio off.
"What the heck, how do you still have ears?" You ask Dean leaning between the seats from your spot in the back.
"It wasn't this loud this morning." Dean says and Beau scoffs.
"Liar."
Dean puts in the location for the arts store and drives off.
"So why did you transfer?" Beau asks, turning in his seat to look at you.
"It's a very long story." You give him a small smile hoping he wouldn't ask.
"We have time." Dean says looking at the GPS. "We have like 20 minutes."
"uh." You don't want to shut the conversation down and upset them but still you didn't want to talk about it.
"Maybe another time." Beau says, he gives you a smile when your eyes meet.
"Why-" Dean is still unaware of your discomfort so Beau hits his shoulder.
"Dude, shut up." Beau says and Dean spares him a look, and Dean knows to shut up. You can tell by watching them how close they are. Both lean in the direction of the other, the way Dean had his arms around Beau when they introduced themselves, the way Beau has his arm around Dean's back. Most guys would have their arms on each other's shoulders. The way one look seemed to be enough for each of them to understand what the other meant. you wonder, not daring to ask, but wonder if they're together.
Dean parks in front of the shop and you all leave the car and head inside. The guys walk after you down the aisles. Dean picks up soft pastel and holds it up.
"I didn't know chalk came in so many colors." He comments.
"That's soft pastel." You comment, not rushing to reach the other end of the store, as both guys look fascinated by all the unknown materials around them.
Beau picks up a paint thinner and for some reason decides to smell it.
"This smells disgusting." His face is twisted trying to get the smell out of his nose, it's a piercing chemical smell.
"It probably is, if you drink it." You amuse.
"Who would drink this?" Beau puts it down in an instant, as if just holding it would make him drink it.
"Art students surviving on 30 minutes of sleep and an ungodly amount of coffee during finals week."
"Wow, you're a survivor." Beau pats your back and you laugh.
Dean picks up a palette knife.
"So... butter knife?"
"No."
"Mini spatula?"
"No."
"Murder weapon?"
"...Closer."
Beau discovers kneaded erasers.
"What is this?"
"A kneaded eraser."
He squishes it.
"It feels illegal."
"It erases charcoal."
"It feels very illegal."
Dean steals it.
"It bounces."
"It absolutely does notâ"
He throws it.
It sticks to the ceiling.
Silence.
"...Well."
"Why is there a lot of white paper?"
Dean is standing in front of the paper stand.
"Different brands, and you have paper for charcoal, water color, gouache, mixed media and crafts, some are handmade and those are really expensive. there's this French brand that I love so much but it's so expensive." You say and point at the ones you love, the brand you love has raw edges but you've never tried any watercolor paper that is as good as that one.
"Come on, the canvas is at the back." Beau follows after you. You pass by the ready canvases and he looks over them, his eyes catching the prices as he goes.
"Why are they so expensive?" He's well off but he knows how much a college student usually has and this is way too much.
"Everything about art is expensive, always has been. They call them struggling artists for a reason." You tell him and he hums. You're aware of how close he is to you, following you and looking at everything in wonder.
"I have to say I am sorry again." Beau says softly and you stop, he almost crashes into you.
"Beau, please stop apologizing." You said and placed a hand on his bicep. He flexes instinctively and you raise an amused brow.
"Can't help it." Rolling your eyes with a smile you turn back around and find the canvas material. You inspect the quality, once you were satisfied, you asked the worker to cut the size you needed.
"Why not buy the whole thing?" Dean asked, coming up behind you he leaned down to whisper in your ear.
"Are you insane, that's a lot of money." You whisper and he raises his hands.
"We're going to get wood after, right?" Beau asks and you confirm. "We can get it cut there, and then we'll only have to put it together."
"I'll go look for pliers." You say and leave Dean with the worker, Beau follows behind you. You find them pretty easy, looking at the different ones with different prices.
"How many do you need?" Beau asks.
"One, but I already have one that will get shipped, I don't want to buy an expensive one."
"Which one is the best?" Beau asks and you point to the one you already have. Beau leans over you and takes it. "We'll get that one then."
"What? no wait, I was still comparing prices." Beau ignores you and walks to the front, where Dean was at the register. The plier is scanned in seconds and you take out your wallet.
"Woah what are you doing?" Dean asks and he blocks you.
"Paying." you say as if he's stupid.
"Sorry sweetheart, but Beau got it."
"No, what? we agreed to; you helping me build this, not pay for it."
"Too late." Beau turns around with the receipt and a smile.
"Thank you." You mumble and he smiles.
At the wood store, they have so much fun looking at the wood. At one point Dean started using wood as weights showing off his physique. You and Beau laugh at his antics. Once more Beau paid for the wood and you were all on your way to Dean's house that he shared with some of his team mates.
"You live here?" You asked walking up the steps.
"Yes, with three of my team mates." Dean opens the door carrying the wood in one arm, while Beau holds the roll of canvas. You walked behind them admiring them from the back. Having two guys carry your things is hot.
You follow the two inside, closing the door behind you, walking in it's a lot cleaner than you expected. It looks cozy.
"Hey man, heard you tackled someone today." Garrett says from where he sat on the stool leaning on the kitchen island.
"That would be me." You say popping your head from behind Beau and Dean.
"Oh, uh, hi, I'm Garrett." You tell him your name. "Not to be rude or anything, but what are you doing here?"
"I broke her canvas so we're helping her make one." Beau said.
"Best get Logan then." Garrett says. Dean places the wood against the wall and goes to the stairs before shouting for Logan, it takes a minute before a guy 'Logan' comes down.
"What?"
"We need you to help y/n with her canvas." Dean points at you and you wave your uninjured hand.
"Hi."
"Sure... I don't know anything about painting?" Logan was even more confused, he's never seen you before.
"She's the one Beau tackled." Garett interjects. "They're helping her make a canvas."
"Can we stop saying tackled, it was an accident everyone is making it sound like I meant it." Beau groans and Dean pats his back.
"I've actually done it before, i will need help though, my hand still hurts a little." You said, Beau and Dean both crowd you suddenly and start inspecting your hand. "Uh, guys it's fine, it's just bruised."
"I'll get ice." Dean said and turned to get just that in a towel.
"Ookay." Logan gave the guys a weird and confused look before he turned back to you. "We can make it out back, gives us more space."
"Sounds good, lead the way."
Now building the canvas frame was all Logan. But Beau and Dean just made his life harder, which made you even more grateful for Logan.
"Can one of you hand me the screws?" Logan asked at one point.
"I got you." Dean said confidently. A beat passed. Logan looked up slowly.
"These are nails."
"They're metal." Dean shrugged, you held your laughter in, amused.
"They're the wrong metal."
"Oh." Was all Dean said before he gave Logan the correct ones. Beau had a tutorial that no one asked for open on his phone.
"According to this we're on step five." Beau said, looking up from his phone.
"We've literally just started." Logan reminded him, Beau's face flushed.
"Uh yeah, makes sense." Beau sheepishly slipped his phone back in his shorts pockets.
"You know, watching you try and fix the problem you created is surprisingly therapeutic." You adjust the ice pack pressed against your hand.
"In our defense-"
"There is no defence." You cut Beau off.
"Also, what âweâ? I did nothing." Dean cuts off standing up, Logan breaths a sigh knowing he'll have a moment to work without interruptions.
"You threw the ball." You said and raised your brows in challenge.
"Exactly... actually if you weren't such a bad football player this wouldn't have happened." Beau crossed his arms and turned to his friend.
"Says the actual football player." Dean leaned in a little, giving his friend a sarcastic look. You laughed hard enough you almost dropped the ice pack.
"You know." You said. "This is actually making my hand hurt less."
"Glad we could help." Beau turns to her.
"You aren't helping." Logan cuts in.
"We're helping emotionally." It was Dean's turn to retort.
"You broke my canvas." You added.
"And now we're building emotional closure." Beau says with his hands on his waist.
Logan muttered. "I'm building the canvas."
The drill whirred to life.
For nearly thirty glorious seconds, nobody spoke.
Thenâ
"I have another question."
Logan closed his eyes.
"I preferred the silence."
"Hold the frame." Logan asks and Dean is quick to move
"Got it."
"I've got this side." Beau says also lending a hand.
Five seconds later...
CRASH.
Logan closes his eyes.
"I said hold it."
"We were."
"No."
"We were emotionally holding it." Dean gives his friend an innocent smile.
You showed Logan how you wanted the fabric placed and told him how to stable and use the pliers to stretch the canvas. Testing how firm it is when he pulls the fabric tight. Beau was there to stable once Logan pulled the fabric tight.
"How is that?" Logan asked once the last stable went in. you tapped the front and back feeling how tight it is.
"Amazing, even better than when I make them." You said with a grin. "Thank you guys so much... I have a feeling I won't be buying any ready canvases any time soon."
"Any time." Logan is proud of his handy work.
When you all went in, Tucker was finishing dinner.
"I should probably go." You said not wanting to intrude any further.
"No, have dinner first, we have more than enough." Tucker offered instantly, you were hesitant.
"Come on, what will you do? go to your dorm and eat alone?" Dean said and you sighed.
"Okay, sure."
Dinner was a lively affair, you got to know the other four hockey players more, they asked questions and you asked more. You didn't watch hockey so you had a lot of questions.
"What do art students actually do all day?"
You blink.
"...Art."
"Yeah but..."
"...Art."
Someone asks if your paintings are realistic.
Someone asks if you can draw them.
Dean immediately volunteers.
"I'll model."
"You?"
"I have great bone structure."
"You have confidence."
While you're talking to Logan.
Dean quietly nudges Beau.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You've apologized like eight times." Dean points out.
"I landed on her."
Dean shrugs.
"Yeah."
"I could've broken her hand."
Dean looks over at you laughing with Logan.
"You didn't."
"...Still."
Dean bumps his shoulder.
"You'll make it up to her."
"...Guess we are."
After dinner you gathered your things to go, Dean carried your canvas for you.
"Come on, I'll drop you off." You didn't argue seeing as you had no way of getting back to your dorm alone with the canvas.
"Thank you Logan for the help, Tucker for the food and Garrett... for explaining hockey." Garett laughed but they all waved off your thanks.
Beau took your bag and you all headed out.
It wasn't until you were halfway back to your dorm that you realized something.
Everyone on campus knew Dean and Beau.
The inseparable pair.
The guys who went everywhere together.
Somehow...
Without any of you meaning for it to happen...
There had been a third person beside them all afternoon.
The soft click of a lighter and you were already wet. Arousal zipping through your veins as your eyes darted towards your captain. He was already looking at you. Taking a lot drag from his cigar before blowing a cloud of smoke in your direction. Even though you were too far away, you swore you could smell it. The familiar smoky scent filling your nose and making your brain shut down. But this cigar wasn't for you. It was for John. A treat at the end of a long day. You hadn't earned it yet. But you would. He would always light one right before a mission. Knowing you would do anything for your reward at the end.
You'd actually beaten your record of confirmed kills. And gotten mighty close to Ghost's. But you didn't look at Price on the way back. You knew the rules. Sit straight forward. Head down. Do as you're told. Follow him silently back to his office. Strip down and drop to your knees in front of his desk until he was ready for you. Hands on your thighs, dripping steadily onto the floor below as need pulsed through your system.
You didn't raise your head as John stood. Didn't even twitch at the lighter click that made you ache with arousal. Cunt clenching around nothing. He stood above you. Close enough that you could smell him. Smoke and gunpowder and something so heady and manly it made you dizzy.
Ashes landed on your thighs as he tapped the cigar. You grit your teeth, but still didn't move. Letting the hot ash sit on your skin while it cooled. Following John's heavy boot with your eyes as he walked around you. Flicking more ash down your spine.
"You're so wet..." He teased.
Your shoulders tensed, it wasn't a question, you weren't supposed to answer. Even as the 'yes, sir' crawled up your throat. There was movement behind you as he crouched. Palm hand on your shoulder, then sliding down your back. You knew it was coming. But still the pain caught you off guard. Hissing between your teeth as hot end of the cigar pressed into your lower back. Burning a new brand right next to all of the old ones. It hurt. So bad. but so wonderfully good. The pain fully turning off your brain. Whole body trembling no matter how hard you tried to stay still.
"Such a good soldier. So good. My best soldier."
John fucked you like that. Shaking on the floor. Flicking ash and embers over your burning skin. Occasionally pulling out to slap your cunt when you got too loud.
WARNING. 18+. Mature content. NSFW without plot. Cannibalism mentionned. Taming kink. Bottom Character. Bottom Bucky. Top Male Reader. Both have cocks. Blood mentioned. Dom and Sub. BDSM. Use of Master and Pet. Degrading kink. Kinda short.
Vampire! Bucky Barnes x Cannibal! Scientist! Male Reader
The room was dark, curtains were fully down, and only a few candles ignited the dark walls that surrounded you and Bucky. It was warm, the atmosphere a mere caress on your skin. You sat on the edge of the bed, still dressed in that tuxedo you wore for tonightâs Avengersâ celebration, your bowtie was no more, already open and hanging around your neck. With a cigarette between your fingers and an old fashioned on your free hand, you stared down at your pet kneeling between your legs. Bucky was staring at you with lustful eyes, his mouth gagged and his hands tied on his back, his cock rock hard under his pants. He was pathetic. He is pathetic.
You took a slow drag of your cigarette before reaching to remove the ball gag off of his mouth, saliva drooled down his chin and his tongue immediately lolled out like a damn dog. Your cold stare never changed, heâs nothing but a dog in heat tonight. This was his punishment for trying to bite you at the party. You took your old fashioned and from a distance above Bucky, you poured the drink on him. The vampire just opened his mouth wide, taking all the alcoholic liquid he could get in his mouth.
Once there was nothing left, you threw the empty glass to the back of the bed, not caring if it fell from the bed and shattered on the ground. âYouâre so pathetic.â
âShut your damn mouth.â He obeyed your harsh words, yet his body wasnât under control. Bucky went to nuzzle his face against your inner thighs, breathing heavily, heâs supposed to be dead yet somehow thereâs a blush on his cheeks and heâs already sweating.
He bit his lip, his eyes locked on your crotch. You hummed, he was dying for it. You brought your cigarette close to his mouth, offering a drag, and he accepted it while his eyes met yours. He exhaled the smoke shortly later, his eyes still keeping eye contact with yours.
âYou want it?â you asked as you took the last drag of your cigarette.
âSo badly, master, I need it, Iâm begging you,â another whine, your pet was at the very edge.
âYou can inhale, kiss, lick and suck, but only through my pants. Do not disobey me.â
âThank you, thank you master!â Bucky said before launching at your crotch, his nose buried on it as he inhaled deeply, his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he was able to get some of that musky smell he was so obsessed with. âAhâŚâ small moans could be heard, they were slightly muffled, yet they kept coming as he nuzzled and did his best to get more of your scent. His hips were rocking back and forward, fucking the air. His mouth was all over your clothed crotch now, sucking, kissing, licking through the fabric. âIâm so hungry master, Iâm soooo hungry!â Another moan escaped his lips as he felt how you were slowly getting hard under the fabric, under his mouth. âPlease just a tasteâŚâ He nuzzled your thighs again. âJust a bitâŚâ But then, his mouth opened, showing his two sharp fangs, ready to bite your thighs. âJust a small taste..-â A cry came from Bucky when you grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back.
You leaned close to him, eyes full of frustration. âDonât you ever learn? Pathetic dog? Are you trying to anger me more?â Your words were venomous, Bucky couldnât help but whimper. Oh he hated how much he loved it when you were mean to him.
âHow do you do it?â he whimpered. Confusion interrupted your state of frustration, you raised an eyebrow, curious to what he could be possibly babbling about now.
âYouâll have to be more clear than that, pet.â
He chuckled, his gaze lost on the ceiling. âHow can you make me feel so worthless? So dependent on you?â His empty blue eyes met yours once again. âI donât know what Iâd do without you. I need you to tell me what I have to do. Oh master.â Hips started to fuck the hot air again. âMaster, I need you, I need you so badly.â
His words resonated in your head. You released his hair and moved your hand under his chin, tilting it in the perfect angle for you to kiss him with an open mouth. Both of your tongues danced together and once you were about to pull back, you sucked his tongue and slowly released it. Bucky was panting, your teasing wasnât helping his painful erection but he was loving the torture.
âArenât you a good pet, Bucky?â you asked with a slight smirk, the color of your irisâ turning darker.
A crooked smile adorned Buckyâs lips, you were driving him mad, crazy, so thirsty, so hungry, so everything.
You moved your foot under his hips and he immediately started to rut against it, humping your leg like a dog in heat. âMaster! Master, I love you!â He sobbed.Â
Your hand went to pet the top of his head as he kept grinding on your leg, the fabric of Buckyâs pants was growing wet with the mess of pre-cum going in there. The ex-Hydra assassin was moaning louder and louder, his mouth hanging open as he drooled on your knee, such a messy pet.
As much as you enjoyed seeing him all stupid at your feet, you were growing tired and in need of some action. âPet, on the bed, I want to fuck you now.â The vampire immediately threw himself on the bed, he opened his legs wide open and waited for you to come and touch him. You took your time to get on top of him, he whimpered from lack of patience, he just wanted to be fucked now.
The corner of your lips curled into a soft smirk before you lowered down to kiss the cold flesh of his neck. Bucky shuddered, his arms wrapped around your neck, bringing you closer as he whimpered more. âMaster⌠hmmph!â Your lips left wet kisses on his neck and you playfully licked some spots, sucked them and nibbled them gently.
Your hands roamed under his clothes, touching the skin of his stomach, his hips, his ribs, torso, everywhere your hands could reach. Your kisses went higher, now going along the side of his jaw. Bucky turned to catch your lips and kiss you back. The taste of his meaty lips made you hungry for more, you wanted to take a bit of him. Tear his flesh with your teeth and eat him alive, devour him, swallow him whole. Make your love share one body only. Buckyâs clothes slowly started to come undone with the work of your hands, and now he was half naked before you.
The need to mark him was hard for you to fight off, so you gave in, biting every spot possible, marking him forever. The taste of him was so pleasant on your tongue, heâd taste better cooked and accompanied with some expensive wine.
âMasterâŚâ Bucky moaned, which brought your attention back to his lustful eyes. âYouâre overdressed, in my opinion.â Cheeky bastard.
âIs that so?â You sat back on your knees and removed the top of your clothes slowly, letting Bucky crave for more exposure of your toned chest. âIs this better for you?â
The look of desperation just turned you on even more. You wanted to keep him wanting more till he breaks his sanity. His arms brought you back close to him for another passionate kiss, his hips now grinding against yours, your erection feeling his painful one.
Your hands went to remove Buckyâs pants, the large dark spot on the front made you grin slightly. âWhat a desperate pet.â Buckyâs cock immediately jumped out and fell on his lower stomach. âGoing commando, huh?â
âYes! Yes, âm so desperate sir.â Who would have thought the result of your own experiment would be a needy bitch underneath your attention?
A grin grew wider on your lips. âTurn around,â you ordered, and he obeyed immediately, presenting his plump ass to you like the good pet he is. He looked so splendid, the way you had full control on him was satisfying. An animal to tame, one who craves blood like no one else.
Once more, your hands traveled on his cold body, he shivered under your touch and arched his back seeking more. You squeezed his asscheeks in your hands, enjoying how soft they were, and gave them a soft spank, observing how they slightly bounced. âHmmph!â He grinded his hips towards you, more frantic, more desperate. âPlease, master⌠Master, please,â he sobbed out, tears building on the corners of his eyes. âItâs so painfulâŚâ
âPatience, pet,â you simply answered as you took a glance at his beautiful puffy hole, already winking at you, begging you to give it some wanted attention. You leaned closer and gave the soft ring of muscles a gentle kiss, which gained you a moan from Bucky. His hole clenched more and you licked it before forcing your tongue in.
âAgh! Ah..â He was moving a lot now, so you forced him to stay still by gripping his hips tightly in place. Bucky needs to let you savour him, he has too, he has no other choice. A kiss on his hole, a lick inside, pull back and give a soft bite on his cheeks. Youâd eat him alive if only you could. But if you do eat him, no other meal would satisfy you as much as this one.Â
Just like Bucky, you were growing tired as well, lucky bastard. You sat back on your knees and undid your pants, Bucky clearly got excited when he heard a zipper being open. Your cock rested heavily between his cheeks, throbbing from time to time, and your pet whined, whimpered, sobbed while he pushed his hips close to you, wanting nothing but your fat cock buried deep inside him.
The need to torture him some more was there, but it would also affect you, so playing around wasnât an option anymore. Not for you.Â
Bucky was ready, already stretched, you noticed it when you were eating him out, he probably fingered himself before meeting you in your dorm. In any other rare occasion you would have punished him for such action, but youâll let it pass for tonight, he saved you the trouble of readying him yourself. You just wanted to fuck him already.
With a sigh, you slowly sink inside him, and Bucky swore he reached heaven.
âFuuuuck masterâŚâ
âYou moan like a desperate whore, pet, have you no shame?â You spanked him again, for which he yelped and moaned louder.
âIâm a desperate whore, for you, master!â he answered with a lustful grin, his sharp fangs showing clearly.Â
Those damn fangs he always tries to use on you. Your hand went to shove the head of Bucky right on the pillow, muffling all of his moans as you started to move your hips in a rough pace against him. Why going slow? He is as hungry as you, and you want to hear him scream already.
So one hard pound, two hard pounds, three and he was already sobbing on the pillow.
âMaster! Harder! Iâm begging!â He cried out loud and you shut him up with another hard pound. Bucky bit the pillow, the fabric tearing apart with his fangs. Your cock throbbed at the sight, couldnât help but go faster. âUngh! Ugh! Ahn! Haaah!â His insides felt amazing, hot, tight, wet, clenching and sucking you on like an insatiable whore. âMaaaster!â
You moved your hands on each side of Buckyâs head, holding yourself as you started to move faster in him. His cries and moans were so sweet in your ear, combined with the sensation around your cock, you didnât have time to notice when Bucky grabbed your arm and bit on it hard. The pain was harsh, it hurt like hell, Bucky was drinking some of your blood as well as he moaned in delight. You spanked him hard to wake him up from his trance, but he didnât care, he was lost in your blood.
âYou idiot!â You yanked his head away by grabbing him from the hair and pulling him back harshly.
Bucky was whimpering, sobbing, wanting more. You quickly reached for the nightstand by your bedâs side and took a small container holding a liquid in your hand. You opened it and drank it whole. It was an anti-poison you created just in case a certain vampire would bite you. There was no desire in you to become one like him. Good thing you reacted quickly, another minute late and there would be nothing to do to save yourself from turning into a cold blooded creature.Â
âMaster, âm sorry, I couldnât control myselfâŚâ Bucky whined, his chin and mouth covered in your blood.
âOf course you couldnât control yourself, pet, animals never do,â your words were sweet to the ear yet venomous to the mind, and Bucky didnât care one bit. You caught his lips with yours, taking in the metallic taste of your blood in your mouth. Bucky turned around on his back and you kept thrusting inside him, slowly this time, savoring every spot of his tight insides.
Bucky could live like this forever, underneath you, under your control. He knows youâd keep him safe, youâll keep him far from danger, because deep inside he knew you wanted to keep him by your side. Heâs your valuable research, after all.
Hmmm, I feel like I'm losing my touch in NSFW writing.
And my hyperfixation on Bucky is slowly cooling off. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
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I decided to change it again because I couldn't come up with a plot for Robin so I'm sorry but I promise it won't change again because I'm sending it now...
Stepdad Steve Rogers x Male Reader
The Male Readers mom is Carol Danvers and his stepfather of 4 years is Steve Rogers. Carol and Steve go to the Male Readers house to visit him, the Male Reader doesn't like Steve but Steve really had a crush on him and during their visit Carol gets a call from work and they say they need her so she leaves town for a couple days but tells Steve to stay while shes gone Steve tries his hardest to connect to Reader but he refuses then one day after Steve walks into the kitchen shirtless in nothing but shorts from his run they get into an argument and suddenly Steve kisses the reader and immediately pulls away saying he should leave and he goes to his room and starts packing but the Male Reader walks in and when Steve starts apologizing again the Male Reader grabs him and slams him into a wall and starts kissing him until he pushes Steve to his knees and pulls his hard cock out and Steve sucks his dick while gripping his thighs until the Male Reader starts fucking his face in a messy blowjob as Steve is gagging and slobbering and drooling all over the big cock and it's leaking down his chin onto his chest but the Male Reader finds it hot and he keeps it up for awhile getting messier and messier (the messier the better) then the Male Reader pulls out and takes the spit dripping down his chin with his hand and rubs it into his chest and shoved his cock between his pecs and Steve gets the idea and squeezes his pecs together as the Male Reader pec fucks Steve hard after that the Male Reader takes Steve to the bed throws Steve's suitcases off the bed and lays down and Steve starts riding his dick in different positions making the bed shake as Steve whines and moans because the big cock up his ass then the Male Reader smacks Steves ass and tells him to get up and get on his hands and knees and he starts pounding Steve from behind and Steve says something like "My Step Son has the biggest cock" and during which the Steve gets a call from Carol and the Male Reader tells him to answer so he does but he's still getting pounded so he's whining and moaning and when Carol asks why he says it's because he's working out and she believes it and tells him she'll be back in a week so Steve says ok and hangs up as the Male Reader keeps pounding him sometime the bed breaks and after awhile the Reader pulls out and cums all over Steve's ass and says "I fucked my stepdad so hard the bed broke" to which Steve laughs and then they talk things out and the Male Reader says he likes Steve and that's why he acted that way because he's jealous and Steve reveals he also liked him and they start making out and they cuddle and fall asleep. Three days later Steve is naked cooking in the kitchen when the Male Reader walks up behind him and turns off the stove grabbing Steve bending him over the table as he drops to his knees behind him and eats Steve's ass like a starving man and then pounds him from behind spanking him while pounding him and of course while hes getting pounded he's whining and moaning about his stepsons huge cock slamming into his prostate after awhile of him fucking him he pulls out telling Steve to drop to his knees and he cums all over his face and when Steve's about to wipe the cum off the Male Reader tells him to keep it on as he starts fucking his face in another sloppy blowjob (sorry I'm into that) and Steve's again slobbering, gagging, and drooling all over the big cock, spit bubbles coming out of the side of his mouth with it dripping down his face until the Male Reader pulls out and cums on Steve's face again, seeing how sloppy he looks with 2 different loads of cum all over his face and drool and slobber all over his lips and dripping down his chin he takes a picture and sets it as his screen saver obviously showing Steve first to show him what he looks like.
Kinks: Dirty Talk (Dom Male Reader, Subby whiny Bottom Steve Rogers), spanking, sloppy blowjob, sex while on the phone, pec fucking, hair pulling while getting pounded, hate fucking
NO FEMINIZATION PLEASE.
PLEASE MAKE IT LONGER THAN YOUR OTHER 2 STEVE ROGERS FICS?!? đđ PLEASE.
Happy birthday dear @soundlyfasttavern
Our little secret
Warning. 18+. Mature content. Bottom character. Bottom Steve Rogers. Top Male Reader. Both character and reader have a cock. Stepdad x Stepson. Cheating. Dirty talk. Spanking. Hate fucking. Tbh, first layer of freaky stuff y'all usually like.
Stepdad! Bottom! Steve Rogers x Stepson! Top! Male Reader
You first heard the knocking at your door while you were in the bathroom.
"Coming!"
Then the loud and repetitive ringing of the door bell came next, and it wouldn't stop ringing, to the point you were forced to leave the bathroom in a hurry, rushing towards the door before your ears started to bleed.
"I said I'm coming!!" Your hand reached for the doorknob and opened the entrance door of your house. There stood your mother, smiling so cockily, it was definitely her who wouldn't stop hitting the doorbell. "Mom..." you groaned, but you weren't really displeased to see her, however... with the man standing by her side... "Steve." There stood the blond man with blue eyes who was, in fact, your stepfather, smiling, this time more gentle compared to your mother.
"What's with that frown on your face? I told you we were coming, now, where's my hug?" Carol, your mother, asked you as she stepped in and opened her arms to wrap them around your shoulders. You returned the hug, one arm around her waist, but your eyes shifted between Steve and your mom.
Steve just smiled, holding the luggages in his hands. "Nice to see you, Y/n, how have you been?" he asks genuinely.
You struggle to meet his eyes. "Uhm, fine, I guess." You move aside from the entrance, letting them enter your house, but you kept your head low so to not make eye contact with your step father. Why were you so distant to him? He didn't seem like a bad person, and he wasn't, Steve was in fact such a great man and you're glad your mom found someone as good as him... but the reason why you didn't like Steve was more... personal, almost childish.
It was something you didn't want to share, deeming it a quite uncomfortable subject.
"Wow, I'm surprised the house isn't on fire yet," your mother said jockingly, teasing you with an amused smile.
You rolled your eyes at her. "Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny mom."
"Y/n," called Steve who just stood at one side, smiling, blue eyes locked on you with love... but you didn't know if it was parental love or, something else. "Can you show us the room? It's the first time I've seen your house." Right, Steve married your mother after you bought the house, when they were still dating, you've never shown him your place.
"Sure, over here. Mom?"
"I'll go get a glass of water, I'm so thirsty, you go with your father," said your mother, sounding tired as she made her way to your kitchen.
Father. That word sounds so bad when it's meant for Steve.
"Yeah, sure..."
Steve followed right behind you as you guided him to the bedroom your parents. You could feel his eyes on you, which just made things even more uncomfortable for you. Why was he staring so much? Did he want something from you?
Both of you entered an empty bedroom, the bed was ready, set with clean sheets and pillows. "Here, made sure everything was comfortable for you and mom," you said, still not daring to look at Steve directly in the eyes. Your step father looked around, and nodded before returning his attention on you, still wearing that soft smile.
"Thank you, Y/n, I'm so excited to spending time with my step son." He approached you and gave you a strong hug, you tensed and blushed, feeling his muscled arms bulge around you, his large pecs press against your flat chest, legs brushing yours... Y/n wake up!"
"U-uh, yeah. Of course." The hug seemed to take hours for it to come to an end. The moment Steve released you, you quickly took a few steps back away from him, making your way out of the bedroom. "I- I should go back and check on mom."
However, Steve seemed to wanting to do the same, as he left the luggages on top of the bed quite easily, without much efforce needed, and returned to you. "I'll come with you."
Shit. You prefered not to say anything. As you two approached the kitchen where Carol was, you could hear her voice slighty risen and worried as she spoke at the phone, seems there's something urgent she must take care of. "What?! Now!? But I just got to my son's place! ... Ugh, this is unbelievable, alright, I'll go right now, I'm on my way. Tell them not to do anything before I get there." You came inside the kitchen and saw her hang up the call and put her phone back in her pocket. She turned to look at you, seemingly stressed and tired. "I'm sorry dear, there are important matters at work and they need me."
"What?" Fuck! Fuck, and more fuck. "But... you're returning soon, right?"
With the grimace she gave you, it seems that wasn't a possibility. "This could take a week or more. I'm sorry love, I promise I'll make it up to you." She then moved her attention to her husband, Steve. "Babe, have fun with Y/n, get along you two. Don't let my absence limit the experiences you two could have."
Steve nodded, his smile widening. Why did he seem so excited? "Don't worry dear, I'll make sure to spend a good time with Y/n, right?" He brushed his arm with yours, sending a shiver down your spine. The look in his blue eyes was so weird, a mixture of pleasure and... something more perverse.
Carol just nodded, relieved. "Good, I'll go grab my luggage. Again sweetie, I'm so sorry about this." She left the kitchen and after a few minutes, appeared walking down the hall with her luggage at hand, walking towards the door. "Take care you two, be nice!"
The entry door was heard being closed, and silence invaded the whole place. Great, this is just what you needed.
A deep sigh then interrupts the silence. "Well! What should we do today? asks Steve, excited to spend time with you.
You finally look at him directly in the eyes. Gosh, you hate being stuck in this situation. "Whatever you want, I guess."
It couldn't be said that Steve didn't try his best to socialize and get close to you, inviting you to go for a walk, perhaps cook together, and enjoy some bonding time. But you were too cold, too distant with him, it was so frustrating. You wouldn't even let him touch you... He craved your touch, craved your closeness. His eyes followed every movement you did, how your biceps bulged under your shirt every time you lifted something heavy, how your ass filled your pants nicely when you bent over to grab something from the floor, or how your shirt stuck on your chest with sweat due to the hot weather. You were so hot, so fucking hot, how did he not see you before? Damn, you look even better than Carol.
Steve had to restrain himself from growing hard, noticeably hard. But he wanted really badly to get close to you, have you look at him for more than two seconds at least.
Yet everything he tried ended up being pointless with you and your thousands of walls.
The next day, you were sexually frustrated. Last night you went to the kitchen and walked pass Steve's bedroom, the door was open... and you saw two, white, round, bubbly cheeks facing the entrance. Steve was asleep, naked on top of the bed. Why didn't he close the damn door like a normal person?
Since that night, you tried to avoid Steve, your cock semi-hard inside your pants.
Whistling approached the kitchen where you sat, lost in your memories, Steve appeared inside, shirtless, in nothing but his very tight boxers that left barely anything for your imagination. Your cheeks reddened again. Steve didn't seem to notice your frustration, he opened the fridge and bent down, ass facing you, and that was your last straw.
"Can you please wear some pants at least?" It came out more dry and rude than what you intended. Steve turned to look at you, eyebrow raised.
"Sorry?"
You stare at him, trying to look upset, because deep inside, you were just needy.
"Put on some pants, have some decency, this isn't your house for fuck's sake." Your voice grows louder, frustration taking the best out of you.
Steve frowns. "Jeez, I'm sorry, didn't think seeing a man in underwear would affect you, another man. It's not like I'm wearing a thong or something." His teasing and mockery just worsens your frustration. Does he take you for a joke? Is he doing this on purpose?
You stand up and come close to him, finger pointing at him in a judging way before poking his chest, his strong chest. "I'm serious! It's weird to have the husband of my mom walking around almost naked! And put on some pants when you sleep! Or at least close the door! Fuck! I don't want to see your naked ass!" The vivid images come back to your mind, and you can't help but blush for it.
Steve seems to have his cheeks a bit more pink than usual when you brought the fact that you saw him sleeping naked on the bed with the door open. He completely forgot to close the door, he was just so tired after the workout and the warm shower... But still, with your tone, it was impossible for him to not bite back. "I bet you would have wanted to kiss it instead."
His words hit you like a train going at full speed. "The fuck did you just say...?" you ask menacingly, daring him to say those words again.
The blond man just leaned closer to your face, his fresh breath hitting your face. "I. Bet. You would have wanted to kiss it-ah!"
That's it! "You bi-!"
Your rage was quickly interrupted when two hands grabbed the collar of your shirt, pulling you forward, forcing your lips to clash against his lips. Your brain stopped functioning as his lips moved on yours, deepening this kiss, your previous rage faded like magic, leaving way for confusion and... panic.
Your hands pushed him back abruptly, and you were trying to catch some air for your lungs. Many questions needed to be asked, but the only thing you said was, "you need to leave."
Steve seems to be as surprised as you. And he was, what took over him to just kiss you like that? Why did his self control snap that way? "I- I-... yes," that was everything he said before walking past you, leaving you so he could pack his things and leave. Everything was ruined for him, you'd probably tell what happened to Carol.
But when he left, your brain started processing everything that had happened slowly. The kiss, that kiss... you hate yourself so much, that kiss felt so good, and relieving.
Five minutes later, you reacted and went to search for him in the bedroom you lent him. You found him, now wearing a pair of jeans, packing his things on the luggage. Steve noticed your presence and turned to face you looking guilty. "Hey Y/n, I'm sorry for what happened, I-" You didn't let him finish, with long strides you pushed him against the wall. He was about to protest, but you kissed him back, tongue going deep in his mouth. Steve's eyes widened and his body tensed, before relaxing and deepening the kiss.
Once the kiss comes to an end, you push him on his knees with one hand while the other fumbles with your belt and zipper, opening it for your cock to be set free. It was already semi-hard, cock throbbing, tip already leaking. Steve was left impressed with your sigh, the musky scent coming from your cock made his own cock harden under his pants, you just made him hungry. Hands grabbing your thighs, he dived in and took your cock in his mouth, sucking it with passion as if it was the most delicious treat in the world.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head for a quick second, gosh, that mouth felt fantastic wrapped around your sensitive skin. His tongue hit every vein, every spot that needed to be hit... your hands grabbed his head and without mercy, you started slamming your hips on his face, your cock hitting the back of his throat.
Steve's grip tightened on your tighs, eyes closing shut as he tried to take your cock. "Gughh! Gluhg! Ghhh! Hmm-! Gofhh!" Tears formed in the corner of his eyes, trying to keep up with your harsh thrusts, but it went so deep, and you were so big. Saliva drooled around your cock, dripping from the corners of his lips down on his chin. "Hmmff! Blllu-!"
"Haa... haaa...hmm..." Your hips pulled back and your cock accidentally slid out of Steve's mouth, leaving him panting before your cock slammed on his face, smothering him with saliva and pre. Strings of saliva coated his chin and fell down his chest, making more of a mess.
"Oh-! Hmm... haaa.. Glu-!" With another thrust of your hips, your cock went back inside his mouth.
Your balls hit his chin, slick coating Steve and your thighs. His blue eyes met yours, dazed, he looked absolutely wrecked with the amount of fluids running down his mouth right on his chest. Once again, your cock slid out of his now swollen lips. Steve fucked under his breath and went to kiss and suck under your cock and balls. The both of them were covered in slick that just smeared all over Steve's cheeks, he didn't care in the slightest, the messier the better for him.
"Fuck... oh fuck..." he gasped before sucking lewdly the sides of your shaft and kissing your balls. He grabbed your shaft and gently slapped it on his cheek, looking right in your eyes with a drunk smile. "Such a big cock..."
Gosh, you didn't't know you were able to control yourself for so long, not when Steve looked so... so... fuckable, perfect to ruin. With your hand, you scooped some of the saliva and other fluids from his chin and smothered it all over his soft chest, giving them few squeezes that made Steve moan pathetically. Steve is confused at first, looking down at his chest, but yelped immediately when you pushed your cock between his soft pecs, pushed them roughly one against the other and rammed your cock in the crevice of his soft muscles.
"Look at you, what a whore, a married man fucking the son of his wife, his stepson, you couldn't have been more pathetic than this," you said with no deep heat in your words, this was also your fault, you brought him down on his knees and shoved your cock in his mouth. Your thrusts between pecs lacked compassion, going hard, your grip on his pecs reddened the pale flesh, Steve whimpered from the rough treatment, but couldn't deny that if felt insanely good to be used like this.
"Y-you can't blame-ah! me... I respect Carol... but you're so hot... and well packed..." he said, breathless, eyes focused on your hard cock and swollen tip pocking through the crevice of his chest. His hands moved to his chest, pushing them harder around your dick. Slick covered his skin, the movements becoming slippery, the sensation wet and deliciously disgusting.
You grunted, your cock loving the tightness and warmth around it. You could stay between his amazing muscles, and cum all over them, but you wanted to explore other spots. Your balls kept slapping below Steve's chest, and it felt as great as having your cock fuck his pecs, but you forced yourself to stop and step back. Steve was confused, again, before you went to the bed, pushed the luggage on the ground and laid on your back on the mattress, eyes still locked on him. "What are you waiting for? An invitation? Ride my cock, hungry whore." Steve almost came at your words in his pants, he clumsily stood up and removed his pants and ruined underwear, crawling on the bed and mounting you before sitting on your cock with the help of his own hand, guiding your shaft inside his tight hole.
No preparation was done, and it felt so painfully tight when it went inside. Steve cried outloud, eyes rolling back, mouth hanging wide open. "Fuck-!... Ffffuck!" Half of your cock was left out as he took a break, whining. "So big... unnngh... so fucking big..." Steve tried to relax himself, but it burned so good.
However, you were running out of patience. Your hands grabbed his waist and pushed him down, forcing him to take it all. A choked cried came out from him, you moaned, feeling like you reached cloud nine. "Fuck yess... oh shit..."
Steve didn't dare to move, everything hurt... painfully good. He panted, already sweating, face red. "Y/n... nghh... you're so mean... haaa... you're so mean to me..." he said, almost incoherently.
"Maybe don't go cheating on your wife- hmmm... with her son, now move," you ordered, feeling little to no mercy for him.
His hands moved to support himself on your chest, he lifted his hips slowly, thighs trembling. "Ungh... unh.. haa... Y/n... so big," he whined before dropping his hips on your cock, your cock hit another deep, and his back arched. "AHN! Ah... ahhh! Fuck! It hurts...!" But the pain didn't stop him, he lifted his hips again, pulling almost everything out, before falling again, a loud, wet clap resonating through the walls. Steve's eyes crossed, his asscheeks jiggled with the impact, fuck, he was about to lose it. "Shiiit..."
Each time he bounced, his hole clenched tighter around your cock with how deep it went. You bit your lip, it felt too good, if he kept with that, you'd cum soon.
Steve was growing used to your size, and worse, he was growing addicted to it, you just hit every right fucking spot. "M-more..." he whined as he lifted his hips again and slammed them back down, faster than before. His eyes were unfocused, dazed, lost, too high on the pleasure as he bounced faster on you, too needy for more. "Oh.. nhh...hunnhh... haaa... Y/n... big... haaa.. so full..." he kept saying and whining. His cheeks clapped and bounced, waves of flesh running down his round butt.
It was unfair, it was so unfair that something like this could feel soooo good. So addicting. His hole sucked your cock back inside everytime he lift his hips, not wanting your cock to slip out any time soon.
"Oh... ungh... fuck...haaa..." you were struggling a bit, but didn't want him to stop, it was the whole opposite. "Faster..."
And it seems he wanted the same as you, as he increased the pace. A sticky mess coating both you and him where your bodies connected was being formed, so wet, so slick, from pre, saliva and other fluids. Steve's cock bounced, strings of pre spreading on your lower abdomen and sometimes even reaching his own chest, it was hard and his balls clenched with each bounce he made. "So good... huuunnh... so good... hmmf-! Need more..." he whined.
"Turn around... huuh... wanna see that ass devouring my cock..." Steve listening to you, pulling out your cock out of him for a moment, even if he whimpered at the emptiness, he wants your cock back inside so bad. He hurried to turn around, back facing you, before bending over, showing you his open, red, puffy hole winking at you hungrily. You saw how he took your cock back inside him, your head disappearing first, before the rest slowly started to sink deeper inside him.
"Nghhh... aaaahh..." It didn't take him long for him to go back riding your cock fast, really fast, ass jiggling, and your eyes were hypnotized by the movement. So lewd. Couldn't help but squeeze them in your hands, winning a yelp from the older man riding your cock like a mad man. "Not 'nough... nnhh! Not enough..." Poor, pathetic, hungry thing, he needs more.
You moved your hips now, meeting his bounces halfway. Steve choked a moan before going harder on your hips, a moan coming out everytime you hit deep inside him.
But you had to agree with Steve, this wasn't enough. You spanked his ass, the soft cheek jiggling with the impact, the blond man crying at the burning, pleasurable pain. "Get up, get on four on the bed, now." Like a good pet, he got off of you, whining because his ass felt uncomfortably empty with the shape of your dick without your cock to fill it. You moved behind him, pulled his cheeks apart and spat on his greedy hole. "What a nice view." Steve whimpered at your words. You didn't care though, shoving your cock all the way in in one harsh pound.
"Hhhaahnn! Deep-! Soooo deep!!" Steve had to grip the bedsheets tightly, almost ripping the thin material.
You grabbed his hips and started pounding inside of him, slow, but precise and so deep for him to never forget how your cock feels. "Needy man, you're so needy, so hungry for fat cock!"
"Yes! Yes! So hungry! Love cock!" he gasped, voice pitched a little high with each moan that left his obscene mouth. "Love cock so much...! So, so much! My stepson... hunngh! Ungh! M-my stepson... has the biggest cock... I've ever had..."
It was hard for you to breathe properly, it felt too good, you could feel yourself on the edge of bursting. Each clap of skin got louder as his butt jiggled, catching your eyes, making you drool for them.
The sexy and sinful atmosphere was seen interrupted, as a phone started to ring, announcing an upcoming call. It was Steve's phone on the nightstand, you grabbed it, checked the name and a grin grew on your lips; Carol, your mom. You tossed the phone to Steve. "Answer the call," you order.
Steve looks back at you over his shoulder, worry invading his eyes, but the glare you gave him let him know he had no choice. With trembling hands, mainly because you continued to fuck his ass, he answered the call and brought it to his ear. "B-babe... hnn.. yes hun? N-need something?" Your smile widens, he sounds on the verge of crying.
"Hey love, how are you spending your time with Y/n? Hope he's not giving you a hard time..." You were definitely giving him something else hard, very hard, thought Steve as he felt another pound hit him deep to the point he had to bite his lip.
"N-no... no baby... ah-! We... we're having fun together... we mi-hnnn! miss you..." Steve prayed she wouldn't suspect him, nor that she would hear the loud clap of your hips slamming against his round ass. His mouth opened wide in a silent scream as you hit his prostate. "Oh fuck...!"
"Babe? What was that? Are you okay?" Shit! Shit, shit, shit.
"I-it's nothing, love... just... working out... with heavy weights." Heavy balls he should say.
Silence comes for a moment, before Carol speaks again. "Okay baby, don't overwork yourself, okay? Tell Y/n I'll be back in a week or so, things don't seem to be that terrible over here." Only one week? Aw, he wished he could spend more time alone with you.
"Okay love... w-will do-ugh! Haa... will do..." After that, he hangs up and toss the phone elsewhere in the room. "You brat... so mean to me... hnnn... fuck me harder! I need it harder!"
You just smirk and give him another spank, he cries, he loves it, he loves how rough you are to him. "Good job, stepdad!" You mock before pounding him faster, deeper, harder.
"Ahn! Ahn! Ah! Aaah! Ah fuuuck! Fuuuuuuckk!!" He moaned louder, more needy, the neighborhood might hear him if he continues to be a loud whore. "Yes! Yes! Just like that!" The bed shook under the weight of the two of you, fucking like wild animals in heat. As his cries grew louder, the bed creaked louder, and louder. "Oh god yes! Yes! There! Fuck me there!" And suddenly, the bed broke, making you trip and fall over him, sending your cock deeper on the spot where his prostate hit, making Steve cry out loud as he came undone all over the bed. "Aaaahhnn!!"
That was it, fuck. You pulled back in a hurry, cock slipping out of his wrecked hole with a lewd pop, and jerked off desperately until you came all over Steve's ass. "Shiiiit... haaaa..."
Once the high slowly cooled off, you laid on the bed by the side of Steve, both of you sweating profoundly, panting heavily.
"Shit..." you cursed. "I fucked my stepdad so hard the bed broke."
Steve gave a weak laugh, looking at you with tired, satisfied eyes. "Yes... yes you did..." After some minutes, he got closer to you and stared at your eyes. "Why were you so distant to me?"
"Huh...? Oh...." Your cheeks grew red, ashamed due to the reason. "I... I like you, okay? And- and it was wrong of me to do so, because, well, you and mom are together... but I was so jealous. I'm so sorry, Steve."
The blue eyed man chuckled and kissed your cheek softly. "I also liked you for a while." You turn to look at him in the eye, and Steve lean down to kiss you on the lips, tongues tangling together, sharing so many emotions that were hidden for a while. Then the two of you pulled back, and Steve nuzzled close to you, head resting on your shoulder while his arms wrapped your waist, your arms went to do the same, and you kissed the top of his head.
Finally... things came out to the light.
Three days have since then passed, and things in the house have changed. You two had sex almost all the time, having a hard time keeping your dicks inside your pants. You would blame Steve though, he always loves to tease you and tempt you into fucking him. Just like right now; Steve was in the kitchen, making dinner for the two of you, naked, completely naked. He hummed a song to himself, sometimes swaying his hips, and your eyes were on his round butt from the otherside of the kitchen.
You bite your lip and stand up from your stool, you walk behind him and reach to turn off the stove.
"What? Y/n what are you-?" You don't let him finish his question as you push him on the other counter and bend him over it. "Y/n!" You kneel down behind him, face to face with his perfect buttcheeks. You pull them apart with your hands and spit on his puffy hole before diving in, mouth all over his entrance, licking it, sucking on it, pushing your tongue inside to reach as deep as you can. Steve's ass clenches around your tongue, his eyes crossing, his hips pushing against your face. "Oooh... oh fuck..."
"Hmmm... slurp... unhmm..." You eat him like never before, he tastes so good, his buttcheeks feel so nice around your face. Steve wiggles his ass on you, enjoying the feeling of your mouth on his ass.
"Hmm.. that's it love, eat my ass..." His hand goes to pull one cheek apart, making it easier for you to go deeper inside him.
You motorboat his ass, giving long licks with your tongue, stretching his hole open with your fingers to expose his pink insides and shoving your tongue back inside. "Hmmm... haaa... I love your ass, Steve..." you say, kissing his soft, plump cheeks and giving them some sucks before squeezing them and standing up. You pull out your cock from your pants, hard and ready to fuck your stepfather hard again.
Now that his hole is ready, your spit working as a lube, and Steve is already whining, begging for your cock, you line yourself with his entrance and slowly sink inside.
"Ooooh... oh yes, mhmm, I'll never get enough of this ass," you say as you spank his ass, causing him to yelp.
"Fuck... so big..."
You're obsessed with his moans and whines about how big your cock is, it just pushes you to ruin him for real. You pull out until your head is the only thing inside, and slam your hips against his ass.
"Ahn! Y/n... haaa..." And again. "Uhngh! Unnh.." And again. "Shit! Y/n... don't be meaaan..." So whiny.
You move your hips faster now, setting up a steady pace, skin slapping together, the sound still as lewd as ever, yet you love it. You want to fuck him even harder, making him even louder. "Yes... oh yes... what a nice ass!" You spank him again.
"Hughh...Yesss..." Based from experience, you already knew where to hit his prostate. You made sure to hit the right angle, and a sob came from him, maybe you hit it a little too soon. "Unh... haa... baby..." That petname just made your cock throb.
"Yes?" You pounded inside him, he gasped.
"Harder... harder please," he whined, pushing his ass further on you. You don't waste another second, before pounding him faster, abusing and torturing his prostate. He moans loudly, without any control. "Fuck! Yes! Yes! Harder! Harder! Hnnnnghh... m-my stepsons big cock... fat cock... is hitting my prostate, ungh! So gooood, so fucking goood!"
He clenched around you tightly, and you were incredibly sensitive today, feeling your orgasm coming fast.
"I'm so sorry, fu- hmm!' You forced yourself to pull out, ignoring Steve's whining about how empty he feels. "Get on your knees, this is not done yet."
Steve does as he's told and kneels down facing you, you jerk off close to his face, and he opens his mouth. It doesn't take long for you to cum all over him, cum going inside his mouth and on his face. You pant, still hard, Steve swallows the thick cum and reaches a hand to clean the mess on his face, but you stop him.
"Not yet dear, now suck." The blond man smirks and goes down to suck your still hard cock, moaning at the taste hitting his tongue directly. You grab his head and start using his mouth like a cheap fleshlight.
"Guuugh! Hugh! Uhgh! Ngh! Hmm! Hmmff! Glug-!" His eyes roll to the back of his head, your cock going so deep in his mouth, hitting the back of his throat. You pull out, strings of cum and spit connecting your cock and his mouth. Steve spits on your head before taking it back inside. You don't slow down, you're not gentle at all. Drool runs down his chin and falls down on his chest. Spit bubbles form with your fast thrusts, Steve having a hard time keeping up with your rough pacing. "Nghh! Hmmm! Uhhn!" You looked down at him, a smirk on your lips, enjoying how wrecked he was. He was working so hard to please you, but your cock slipped out of his lips sometimes, hitting his face, smothering him in more fluids, making his face even more ruined.
You were close again, shit, you wish this could last a little longer. "Fuck.. here comes another big one." You pulled back, a long slurrrp could be heard as Steve tried to give it one last suck before you pulled your cock completely back. "Shit... shit, this is so good..." Once again, your jerked off, eyes rolling to the back of your head, and another spurt of thick, hot, white cum showered Steve's face, leaving him gasping and dazed.
Panting, you enjoyed the wrecked view of the older man on his knees for you, marked by you, covered in your cum. You took your phone that was on the kitchen counter, and opened the camera app before taking a nice picture of Steve's wrecked face.
"Heh... look at this." You show him the picture, now settled as your phone wallpaper.
Steve lets out a weak laugh. "Just... just don't let your mom see that..."
"Don't worry hun," you calmly say as you scoop some of the cum on his face with two fingers before sucking them clean. "That will be our little secret."
_________________________________
A little late, sorry for that, got distracted with Hopecore on instagram. :'') Also, sloppy blowjobs are yum... but how can you describe them?
Word count: 5.4k (almost 5.5k)
Proof read: No
Again, this is my last answer exceeding 5.1k words, as that number is reserved for paid commissions. This one is an exception because I did say I'd go further from 5k words to the requester before I mentioned paid commissions.
summary: you accidentally burn your hand while dean fucks you in the kitchen. for a centerman with all of the confidence in the world, he panics at your hurt more than he would like to admit.Â
word count:Â 1.6k
warnings: 18+ (fem reader)Â
(crossposted on ao3) // please send requests HERE :)Â
You look so pretty, Dean can hardly help himself.Â
Itâs 1AM, the guys are (blessedly) partying elsewhere, and youâre covered in one of his big shirts in the soft glow of the quiet kitchen, his favorite thighs peeking out from underneath the fabric. If he squinted, he might be able to see the indents his fingertips and rings left along them.Â
Youâre cornering Tuckerâs stove with purpose, hair haphazardly thrown back from your face as you handle the spatula with care. Your pouty bottom lip is held behind the sparkly row of teeth Dean often begs to be bitten and claimed by, and youâre so intently, adorably focused on the browning and sizzling in front of you that you donât hear him coming up behind you.Â
Dean skims his nose along the column on your neck, bracketing your ass with his hips. You hide a smile but wordlessly tilt your body into his, letting his hands wander down your shoulders and land possessively on your sides. You flip the pancake, ignoring him and teasing him all at once, and he groans.Â
âSmells so good,â he murmurs, but heâs not talking about the batter; his mouth opens along where your jaw meets your throat as he inhales you.Â
âD,â you chastise. "You specifically told me, and I quote, you âcannot go again without sustenance.â I know youâre not lying because thatâs a big word for you.âÂ
Dean lands a slap somewhere near the apex of your thighs in retribution for your mouth. Said lips part on a sound between a gasp and a moan, the spatula teetering just slightly towards the pan.Â
âI should spank you with that instead,â he grumbles against your skin, nudging his head and therefore yours towards the utensil.Â
Your soft laughs fill the room a moment later, him dotting kisses into your neck as you turn towards him as much as you can in his hold. The angle is a little awkward, especially with his height, but he greedily meets you in the middle with his tongue leading the way before the rest of him can catch up.Â
You find just enough space to whisper, âLet me feed you first,â tacking on a whimpering âpleaseâ when he bites your lip to coax you open. You canât be sure if the plea comes from truly wanting to take care of him before anything else, or from needing to be consumed by him again.Â
One big, warm hand cups the back of your head to dive into you deeper, the other fumbling with the knobs on the stove before Dean deems pancakes ruined forever. He dexterously flicks everything off in one smooth motion, simultaneously pushing you further to the left and into the counter with his hips without letting anything dig (too) painfully into your lower back.Â
Both of you would agree that just enough of a sting can be promised in other ways.Â
You push up against him, remnants of flour finding his flushing cheeks, his tousled hair, his squeezing hands. They are everywhere on you and still not enough, gripping and shoving impatiently until youâre on your tip toes with your back facing him again, bent over the counter with your hands struggling to find purchase of the granite on either side of you.Â
Dean slides his shirt up to the small of your back, revealing those little black panties he had sweetly dressed you back in earlier. He deftly pushes them to the side, grabbing ahold of your left wrist and using it as leverage between your bodies, before he enters you in one hard thrust.Â
You flutter so tightly around him he momentarily sags against you with a grunt. With one wet kiss to the top of your spine, he pries your legs further apart with his own and returns to fucking you in a brutal pace, trapping you tightly between him and the mess on the countertop.Â
You moan a mixture of his name and a prayer. Itâs still not enough for him.Â
Dean pulls out all of the way, slamming back into your heat. Your knees buckle at the force, and your right hand goes to find something, anything that will stabilize you against his power.Â
You cry out suddenly, the still too hot cast iron branding your palm. It immediately is not a noise Dean recognizes from you, and he steadies his hips instantly, releasing your other hand to take hold of your waist protectively instead.Â
âHey,â he manages, panic rising in his voice when you hunch forward without another sound. âBaby, baby, baby. Talk to me. What happened?âÂ
You stutter out a tearful, âOh no,â and Dean doesnât hesitate to tuck himself back into the waistband of his athletic shorts and cover up your modesty.Â
âCâmere, come on. Let me get a good look at you,â he murmurs, flattening his touch over every crevice of you until he pauses at your red-hot hand. He hisses at the contact. âSweetheart.âÂ
He turns you fully to him, letting you clutch your injury into your chest even though every hockey instinct screams at him to take it for himself.Â
âI got you,â heâs saying against the ringing in your ears. âIâll fix this. Gonna fix you up, sweet girl.âÂ
With all of the confidence and calmness in his voice, his actions are decidedly not. He almost stumbles to the kitchen sink with you in his arms, fumbling with the faucet until his shaking fingers are pulling you under the lukewarm stream. He grits his teeth at the same time you do, as if you are fused as one and he can feel every bit of pain you do.Â
Dean wraps a clean kitchen towel around your damp palm, continuously speaking to you in that low, soothing tone. He wraps one arm over your shoulders and presses firmly into your hand with the other, steering you towards the island. He releases you barely for a second (and he's counting) to carefully hoist you up with one hand, only placing you down once he has impatiently pushed everything else aside with a clang.
âIâm fine,â youâre trying to reason with him, but youâre doing a shit job with the big, sloppy tears that are threatening to spill down your cheeks. Dean thinks he might hear a hiccup, and thatâs even worse, so no - of course heâs not going to stop until youâre actually fine.
âYou poor thing, that mustâve been so scary,â he pacifies otherwise, slamming every door open and shut until he can find the first aid kit Tucker stored away so many years ago.Â
âDean,â you insist. âReally, Iâm a big girl, it just - it just hurts a little - "
He hits the pantry door a little louder than the rest, tugging at his hair. âWhere the fuck - did the kitchen-designated first aid kit - go - "Â
He is clearly panicking, and a part of you would find that so damn endearing if you werenât worried about him suffering a cardiac episode before you had a chance to heal your fingers.Â
You say nothing, sniveling a little less at the sheer hilarity of the situation and big, bad, sometimes downright mean Dean thinking the sky is going to fall on his girl if he doesn't act quickly enough.
He returns from the downstairs bathroom a few moments later, a tube of cream and gauzes in his hand. He still fumbles his hold on you but a little less than before, taking a deep, calming breath that somehow does wonders for both of your nervous systems.Â
With extra precaution, he unfurls the cloth from your hand and presses the sweetest of kisses against your unmarked wrist. Through his eyelashes, he peers up at you, settling himself slowly inbetween your bare legs.
"Everything's alright," he whispers. You fail to hide a smirk at knowing he's saying this more to himself than just to you. "All better now."
Dean doesn't even get to see the watery grin on your face because he's inspecting a thin layer of ointment with surgical precision. The burn is undoubtedly going to scab over, perhaps even scar, and he presses a defeated sigh into your soft tummy when he rests his forehead against you.
You thread your good fingers at the base of his hair, transferring every bit of comfort he provided you back into him.
"Baby," you breathe. "I'm okay now. Just shocked me, s'all."
"I hurt you," Dean muffles into his own shirt. "I'm so sorry."
Your incredulous giggle bounces off the walls and buries itself directly into his heart. He shifts so that his chin is resting on your thigh, practically with his knees to the floor now. He leaves open-mouthed kisses against every part of your leg, moving up and up until he's back to the curve of your hips. His hand cuffs loosely around your ankle like he's afraid you might bolt.
"You didn't hurt me," you promise, scratching your fingernails at the light stubble at his chin.
His response isn't an acknowledgement, but rather, "I fucking hate pancakes."
"We'll toss them all."
"...actually, no, I still need nutrients."
Dean's eyes suddenly zero in to where you're splayed open atop the kitchen island. You know him too well at this point, so you're really not surprised when he tells you, "But I know other ways to get them and still make it up to you."
Price fauxcest gets me so horny like I just want to get bred by him okayđ
"What was that, kid?" Price watches your throat flex, trying to hold back a cough as the smoke of his cigar puffs in your face. He loves it when you do that.
"Dad, please." You plea, keeping the whining tone out of your voice. "I'm aching between my legs again. I need your help." Your face burns with humiliation at the words leaving your lips. You watch as Price puts out his cigar and pulls you onto his lap, pushing your legs open wide.
"You're so dirty, you know that? Asking your Dad to touch you like this." He mutters in your ear, voice dripping with annoyance.
His hands were quick and rough as they unbuttoned your pants, yanking them down with your underwear. He pulls off your boots as well, tossing everything covering your lower half to the side and leaving you bare.
His hand settles on your aching crotch, groaning softly as he rubs the sensitive skin. "You let me touch you like this because I do it the best, huh? No one makes you cum harder than Dad, isn't that right kid?"
Youâve lived in the flat next door to John Price for nearly a month now.
You donât know much about him at all, when he introduced himself you learned he was an ex-soldier recently turned firefighter.
Other than that youâd only really exchanged names and small talk.
Price is woken up to loud banging on his door, having dozed off on the couch during a football match he didnât really care about.
He rubs his eyes, grumbling like a very tired bear, as he opens the door.
Heâs suddenly very awake as he comes to terms with what is in front of him. Youâre stood there holding what can only be described as a saucepan of fire.
You just stand there holding it, looking up at him in visible panic, until his brain finally kicks into gear and he takes it from you.
He brings the pan into his house, sets it on the kitchen floor, wets a cloth, and covers it.
Before you can thank him he starts a half an hour rant about fire safety, sitting you on his sofa and pacing the living room in front of you.
While you would like to say you were listening and reflecting on your actions, he had decided to sleep in a pair of grey sweatpants and no t-shirt.
Eventually he catches onto the fact your eyes donât leave his chest and waist and just stands in front of you, arms crossed, frowning.
âFire safety is serious.â
You just nod along, silently planning what else you can safely set on fire.
He lays you down on the desk and yanks your uniform down around your ankles, squeezing your ass through your panties with a satisfied hum. He's had a long day, and he wanted nothing more to check you over. You were hoping Price was going to fuck you, maybe eat you out and then fuck your throat the way you loved.
Instead, you heard the tell-tale sound of his desk drawer opening and the sound of latex gloves snapping against John's skin. You bite your lip slightly, feeling your body shudder instinctively. John had conditioned you so well. He slips down your panties, letting them pool around your ankles as well.
He walks around his desk, cradling your jaw in one hand so he can lift your face up slightly. "Open." He orders as he pats your lower lip with his gloved finger. You instantly part your lips, opening your mouth wider for him when he slips his fingers into your mouth. He rubs two fingers across your tongue, pressing down to see the drool pooling in your mouth and dripping down your chin.
"Looks good." He hums, pushing his fingers against your gums and rubbing against them. "Strong teeth and keeping them clean. That's what I like to see." Price continues as he thrusts his two fingers slowly towards the back of your throat. He locks his gaze with yours, studying every reaction in your face when his fingers tease your gag reflex. He pushes past it, ignoring the slight gags and the tears filling your eyes. "Ghost is taking care of that gag reflex... You can take my fingers even further this week."
When he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, he lets your head go as he heads to your exposed lower half. Settling down in his desk chair, he pulls himself close and kicks your legs further apart. "Did you touch yourself today?" Price asks as he runs his saliva slicked glove through your folds, teasing your swollen clit.
"No, sir." You answer honestly, focusing every fiber of your being into staying still. Price presses firmly onto your clit, feeling the nubbin throbbing slightly against the pads of his fingers. He slowly works his fingers up to your hole, finally using his other hand to spread your cunt apart. You hold back a whine at the cold air brushing across you, made worse when Price teasingly blows on your hole to watch it twitch.
"That's good. I'm so proud of you, Y/N." He coos as he spreads your asscheeks apart to see your puckered hole. He uses the slick he gathered on his fingers to tease your asshole, listening to you whimper a little. He presses down slightly, rubbing a slow circle against the tight rim of muscle. "I think you're almost ready for us to start anal training. You'll be so pretty when you take two cocks." He wonders outloud.
You rest your forehead against the desk as Price continues his through examination, hearing the click of a lube bottle. Price took off one glove to grab a notepad and pen, settling back in his chair. You'd passed your inspection, but it was time to take notes on your reactions to simulation. You'd be here for a while.
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Domesticing a man is so easy. Especially if you chose one a little closer to retirement. Most men are stubborn to the idea of it, not wanting to stop the work that keeps them busy, keeps them social. Keeps them outside the house untethered from you. So, of course, you suggest a desk job first.
"You just work so so hard, baby. Every time you get sent away on a deployment, you come back with new gray hairs." You pouted as you rub a hand through John's chest hair.
"Thought you liked my gray hairs, love." John chuckles as he huffs another cloud of smoke into your face. You pout, scrunching your face at the smell you actually don't mind much.
"I do, and I want to see more of them. Just not because you're stressed on the battlefield, John." You plea as you pull him into a needy, desperate kiss. Swirling your tongue inside of his mouth as you rock your hips against his, it makes John grunts eagerly. You know you've won your argument when he rolls you onto your back, the cigar hissing as John stamps it out.
After that, it's all so much easier. Every time he complains, you remind him of all the luxuries at home. Rookies don't rub feet and massage backs after they mess up paperwork or piss you off. Superiors don't make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for him every day, and they certainly don't fuck him within an inch of his life.
"When are you gonna retire, John?" You pout furiously as you bounce furiously on his cock, fingers pinching and flicking at his nipples. You couldn't leave them alone once you realized how sensitive they were.
"Fuck, love, no. I can't -" John throws his head back against his pillows, grabbing your hips tight as he jerks his hips up into you. "Can't just leave." He groans, eyes snapping open when you stop riding him, clenching tight around his cock.
"Please, John? For me? I promise I'll keep you busy.." You whine, using the tone he loves as you slowly roll your hips again. "Just want my Daddy home with me. Is that too much to ask?"
"Fuck, love, no, it's not its not too much." John shudders as he cums inside you, gently squeezing the fat of your hips in his hands. "I'll talk - fuck - I'll talk to Shepherd." The smile creeping across your face makes his heart flutter, and his cock twitch inside you.
You just love domesticing a man. Even old dogs are good for new tricks.
cw age gap (unspecified age but 18+, much younger than price)
John grunted softly as he slid inside you. Mind going blissfully blank as the tight heat of your cunt surrounded him. He only had a moment of peace before your whiny little gasps brought the guilt clawing back into his gut. Looking down at your face twisted in pleasure. Your perfect, soft face. So young. So sweet. Far too young and sweet for a man like him.
He shook his head to dispel the thoughts. It was stupid. You were an adult. Fully grown and more than capable of your own decisions. You just happened to be half his age. And who was going to blame him really. It was you who came up to him in the shitty bar. Practically begging for the man old enough to be your father to take you home and ravage you.
Then you whined again. Face pinched in slight pain as he built up a steady pace. Jesus chris you were tight. Were you a virgin perhaps? John's cock throbbed at the thought.
"John..." His name fell from your lips. Sickly sweet. Not innocent exactly, not with how you curled the word on your tongue like you would his cock. But naive. Pleading for this stranger to blow your mind like no boy your age could.
John leaned over you. Covering your mouth with his hand. Your breath hot against his palm.
"Shut up..."
He didn't need you reminding him what you were. Practically a kid. John had been the target of plenty of 'cradle snatcher' jokes in his time. But they were jokes. This was different. God he had tattoos older than you.
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