IronFist's Cam-Girl🐉📷🌸
Lin Lie/IronFist x f!reader | 8.6k word SMUT
show me who you are, pornstar
syn: in the night you're a popular pornstar streamer. in the day you're a hardworking girl pursuing her master's. what happens when the respectful, focused kid in your lectures turns out to be your top gifter [that you've been crushing on]? not only that, but reveals himself as ironfist? in short, a whole lot of crazed fucking.
tags: rough-sex, cunnilingus (m!recieving), brat-brat taming, superpowers, degradation, face-fucking, nerd lin, cocky ironfist, masturbation, a lot of plot, whump, this is fire, BARELY BETAREAD
an: I lost my soul and my will to write, and ive had this sitting in my drafts for like 4-6 months no joke...
Lin didn't know where the line of sex and love ended, not with you. For the past year and a half, he logged into your chat room, watching his favorite cam-girl work. Her name was BunnyFist, wearing his signature yellow mask, whatever lingerie you liked best for that day, and a fine collection of fake dicks.
He was curious. Twitter had all the raves for you, so he didn't check you out.
Never could he expect how enthralled he'd become with you. It was your soft skin, pretty cheeks, the way your lips pressed in pleasure, how you weren't afraid to show every angle of you, not plastic like porn, but alive, earnest. You did it for your pleasure, not caring to cultivate a plastic image.
You sponsored and reviewed toys with honesty; your work was erotic, fun, and of high quality. You tried to connect with your fans in a human way, something other streamers in your field failed to do. Or at least, not in the same kind of way you did. Lin was obsessed. Hard, horny, and obsessed. Hell, he's got your frustrated, sexy expression stuck in his head. You were magnetic, even when you were angry; you were insufferably seductive.
Every Wednesday at 10 pm, Lin showed up to support you. It started small, popping in to see your work, subscribing, and later, dropping his first donation, how you lit up at the small amount. He got hooked, wanting to spoil you. He even updated to your higher subscription service, 250$ a month for one private call per month.
Fuck.
He remembers the awkwardness of the first call. How he sat with his mic muted and video off, watching you, typing diligently while stroking himself. It was so embarrassing, it was hell. But you gave him so much grace, taking the lead, and giving him a good show (he gave you a fat tip afterward).
But he soon got comfortable with you, and you with him. You found he was funny, earnest, witty, and a relaxed natural outside of the tense aura. Hell, he treated you like an actual person; you noticed him long before he started his subscription. He was always late, yet never failed to ask how you were, no matter if you were 6 inches deep into a dragon dildo. Too cute!
You were starting to think he enjoyed watching you sobber out an answer amidst your sloppy moans.
However, you were nervous to see him upgrade to your highest subscription. You wanted to know what he sounded like. What he looked like. Only he and three others bought your service. You were an extremely popular cam girl; your price was hefty for a reason. To even attend the first private call, your manager set it up that you have to make a $500 deposit on top of the first month's rent.
A precaution to keep you safe, scare away those who couldn't afford you.
So suddenly, when sw0rdmasterLL, a loyal chatter, suddenly upgraded, your heart raced. He was rich. And now he was one of the 4 who supported and cushioned you.
Unfortunately for you, in the first three months of calls, sw0rdmasterLL completely covered himself. No microphone to ease your tension either. It's hard to read a chat while overstimulating yourself on a dragon toy, but he never burdened you. Never set off any scary alarms; most of the time, he was quiet.
You got him out of his shell 4 months into his free calls, getting him to turn on his microphone after a new round of teasing him.
And god.
Swordmaster's voice was delicious.
It was unwavering, airy, strong, deep, and charismatic.
You remember hiding your face, out of embarrassment, but also to hype him up, and he blessed you with his easy laugh.
Fuck.
A guy like him had to be…
Regardless.
He talked a lot during your time together.
Spending a good chunk of his paid 30 minutes talking to you while you're at work. Talking to you. Reassuring you as you pleasured yourself, talking you through it, commanding the way you worked, it was driving you fucking insane. Not with a voice like that, how soft yet so fucking horny he sounded.
And god help you. His moans were blissful. You were sure he never noticed, but you got so fucking passionate whenever you heard his groans. It was like he was trying to be quiet, but now and again, his mind would frenzy, and he'd release a deep, breathy grunt. It was light like the wind, but masculine, sexy.
He sent you pretty lingerie to your business address. Almost like a fetish, he loved having you wear lacey undies with nothing covering your chests, undies you were never allowed to take off. At the end of every call, you'd take it off, bringing it up to the camera and showing him how deliciously ruined your poor garment was. That's when you were able to milk the most sounds out of him.
Swordmaster was fucking hot. That's all you thought it was. After all, it was the truth. It made your job easier.
Somewhere along the way, the line blurred. Not just for you either. You knew the dangers of falling in love like this. You couldn't, not to a paying customer. But those red, warning flags were looking so green, so easily mistaken, or so easy to sin against.
The two of you got comfortable after a year, and you were chatting with Swordmaster naively in private messages. At first, it was about organizing his subscription, and then it was silly talks about studying, hobbies, gaming, and IronFist. You both adored the superhero. Lin even secured you limited figures, figures that slowly occupied the shelf behind in your setup.
You knew it was a real problem when his voice plagued your dreams. Hearing it alone, your panties were soaked. You were so eager to pounce on him in private calls that even Lin noticed how rambunctious you'd become-- only with him. He chalked it up to, "This is how you behaved with every peak-tier subscription."
Lin knew he made a lot from hero missions. He had endless savings, earning a fat stack of commissions and payment for every mission, especially when the Avengers sought out his help. So he had a lot to spare for you. He even created a "bunny" savings account, dropping 5% of his earnings into it, all to buy your shit.
It made him feel so proud whenever you opened his gifts on stream, so proud, looking in the back for any video or clip and seeing his figures. Watching you use his toys in streams. How you called out his name and welcomed him when he came into chat. He loved the way your voice lit up. The late nights, when he should have been studying, he spent talking to you in private messages or wanking himself off to you.
His body was so hard-wired that every Wednesday night, and every Tuesday (which was his usual monthly call date) night, he'd rut. Despite not seeing you every Tuesday, your private calls stayed in his system for weeks, fuelling his horny dick. Even on the Wednesdays when you couldn't work for menstrual reasons, he'd be helplessly horny, pawing at himself in your memory.
He's reminded how lucky he is to have his apartment off campus. Couldn't imagine how his poor roommates would've reacted to his antics.
You're a part of his system.
He needs you. He knows how wrong it is, you're just trying to do your job. Probably running into horrible creeps every day, trying to claim you, to keep you. He doesn't ever want you to stop being yourself, stop working. But fuck, the sweet conversations you have together, although he's aware you're just being nice-- you'd treat anyone the same way -- he feels so vulnerable afterward.
So needy. So desperate. His body reacts, and so does the unsettling lump in his heart.
So with all the guilt in the world, he shows up to every stream, every call, sending in much, just to keep feeding it.
Things were starting to get weird for both of you.
Midterms were coming up, and though at night you were a rambunctious Cam Girl, in the daytime, you were a graduate freshman pursuing your education. It was a tough balance to work, study, party, and be social too. But you learned how to master it well. You lived in an apartment off campus as well, funded by your work. It was hard work, but rewarding and satisfying for you.
You also took an international business class, a class you took unrelated to your major but out of interest, which was the biggest class your university offered. Undergrad and grad students alike. So when your mid-term arrived, you weren't surprised to get an email with your team of 5 in it, two of which had dropped out three days before, and the other simply never showed up.
Leaving you and an undergraduate student named Lin Lie.
Managing this project was going to be hard. Filling the gaps that the other three left was too much to think about, so over email, the two of you split work and sections. Not getting to the nitty gritty of the void and scheduling for the two of you to meet up at his apartment next Tuesday at 6 pm, after Lin's shift, and long before you meet with Sword Master.
It was the only day Lin said he had available. Though you'd never say yes to any sort of activities on a private call day, you were drowning in midterms. The stress of it, the hormones, all of it fell on your ovulation week.
No matter how shifty today turned, you were so eager to release some stress and shed a few tears under SwordMaster's overstimulation.
Shit. You can't think of that now.
You cleared your head.
Now, you were standing outside the campus, standing on the edge of the parking lot. It was a crisp evening, and the sun was beginning to set behind the clouds. The wind was soft and slow, a small moment of peace as a white car pulled in front of you. You looked down at it. The door opens and out steps a tall, muscular, handsome man.
He wore a dark blue hoodie, a red shirt poking just beneath, accompanied by dark wash jeans and red Converse. Your eyes followed his body as he rounded the car and approached you.
Fuck. He was handsome. Jet black hair slightly messy from his own, giant hands running through it, beautiful dark brown orbs complementing sharp, handsome mono-lids. A cute pink nose and pretty, plump lips. He was taller than you, shoulders bout as wide as a barn. And contrary to the frat boys you've seen, his lower body matched the strength of his upper.
He stammers, "Hey! You're (y/n), right?" You flinch, he continues, "Sorry, I'm late. Something came up, and t'uh-- So… How are you?"
That voice. It was smooth and unwavering, airy but masculine, deep and sexy. Strong, passionate.
A fierce gust of wind flies by, rattling his clothes and blowing late autumn leaves with it.
You flinch, gulping slowly. "Lin lie," you asked. "I'm well, thank you. How are you…"
He flinches. You didn't notice. Neither did you notice his eyes widening in shock, nor did you notice the way they shamelessly peeled down your body.
Somehow, this little undergrad had your face hot and your body squirmy, from a few simple words. You were just ovulating, that's it. And he was big and tall. Your hormones were tricking you.
"Yeah- I'm good. So uh… Ready to head over?" he asks, taking a hearty step back, gesturing to his car.
"Yep, ready," you say. He opens up the door for you, you slip inside, he shuts it, and runs to his side.
His car was clean, far cleaner than any man's you've ever been in. It smelled of aloeswood, a woody, vanilla-cedar musk with hints of black pepper. The spice, the warm scent, you clenched into your pants, leaning back into his deep with a troubled sigh.
Lin cranked up the car next to you, looking over with a hum.
"Gonna be a long day," you squeak.
He chuckles, "For sure. We got it, though. You finished your parts so quickly! You'll be done in no time."
Those compliments. They seemed so familiar. No. That fucking voice. You know that voice you swear you do.
"I'm not leaving you behind with the work, Lin," you hum, gazing over.
Your eyes meet, and he doesn't look away. He takes a sharp breath, squinting, analyzing you. His presence surrounds you, and your nails claw into your seat belt for security. Your stomach was growing warm. You look away, and he starts the car, driving off to his apartment.
The poor road sways beneath you, and his driving stays steady. You take the time to gaze over his car. You ask, "So… Lin Lie? Am I saying it right?"
"Yes… Lin Lie… You got it," he encourages.
Your face won't get any cooler at this rate. You quirk, "If you don't mind me asking, what's your ethnicity?"
He chuckles beside you, "I'm Chinese…"
Your eyes catch the dangling IronFist merch in his rearview mirror. You gasp, pointing to it, "You like IronFist! The second IronFist!" You almost shout, like a child with a special interest. "Oh- God that was really bad," the weight of your words hit you, blood rushes to your faces.
His breath hitches, then he snorts, shaking his head quietly. "Really bad."
"Super-- really bad," you mutter.
"Soo bad. I should kick you out of my car right now," he teases. "Make you walk..."
His tone is catty, and with a whirl, youre reminded of him again. You struggle,"M-Mmh, I'd deserve it."
He chuckles sweetly, "So you're an IronFist fan?"
"Fan? More like Fanatic," you gaze out the window. "He's so kind. It's my favorite thing about him."
His breath hitches, voice growing unsteady. He shudders, "I l-love that IronFist… He's a great successor…" You look over at him. Lin peers at you from the corner of his eye, his gaze narrowed. He had this sort of knowing gaze about him.
You felt tiny under that stare. Your lips parted, brows mingling into a mess. Your heart races. His tiger eyes dart away.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
Your thighs press tightly.
Your palm cups your face, body leaning against the window instead- anywhere but him. You close your eyes tightly, tuning in to the sounds of the wind against the car, the road beneath the tires, and the steady, quiet music Lin had playing that you failed to notice until now.
He asks, "What do you like about IronFist… I'm a super fan myself… I've got all the merchandise."
Fuck. Listening to him with your eyes closed was worse. Your clit throbbed.
Swordmaster and Lin sounded alike.
That is what's been driving you more haywire than usual.
Your eyes popped open, your breath seemingly heaved quietly. Still.
You feel like a damn dog in heat.
You gotta stop thinking about SwordMaster.
"IronFist is just… He's cute," you chuckle.
His thumb twitches on the steering wheel, and in a strained voice, he croaks out, "That's all?" He sounded tense, airy, and strained. He even breathed out a shaggy sound, flowing it, shifting in his seat. "O-Out side of his... the kindness thing."
Awkwardness coats the air.
You don't answer, fighting back the memories of Sword Master's strained grunts.
Damn, now you're ignoring him.
"-Sorry," he huffs.
You look up.
"Eh, it's fine," you whisper.
The rest of the ride was dead quiet. He pulled into his home silently, his driving skills so steady- so skillful- so handsome. You'd be lying if you said you weren't entranced by the way his tan, large hands handled the wheel. He was so confident in driving, putting a muscular hand behind your seat to peer back as he drove.
And you couldn't look anywhere but his thick neck, his plump lips pursed in concentration. Your heart was racing.
Fuck.
You were too turned on; you were making this interaction awkward.
You slipped out of the car long before he could run around and open the door for you, trying to dust off some of that awkward tension at the root. You followed him through to the elevators, noting how grand and large the complex was. He held open his front door like a gentleman, and you stepped inside.
His apartment was beautiful. It was definitely upper middle class, but still had this humble, considerate flair. His home was decorated suavely, with jade green decor, eye-catching reds, and deep navy blues being his favorite shades. For a man, his apartment had furniture! He had a mostly wooden, calm interior, with an open space connecting the kitchen to the living room. His feng shui was amazing; the space was open, and the energy was slow and tranquil, concentrated. He has nice moody lights and lamps instead of beaming ceiling lights. It was serene, zen, with splashes of boyish tastes and posters.
You giggled, slipping off your shoes at the door and placing them on his shoe rack.
He chuckles after you, "What?"
"Your home is so cozy," you giggle.
"Sacarsm?" He asks, obviously fishing for more compliments as he walks into the space, wooden floors creaking softly behind him.
"No way," you rush, "-and you know that too." You cut cattily. You follow him to the sofa.
"What can I say," he drags out a husk, "I like my ego stroked," his voice hazes over.
You shudder, eyelids hazing over for a brief moment.
Maybe you don't want to focus. But that part of you, the cautious one, stands tall.
Lin Lie had a low sofa with a large TV over the fireplace. To the left, in the corner, was a small round bookshelf, license burned from it. That delicious scent of aloeswood was stronger here, paired with a sensible taste of sandalwood.
Your shoulders drooped in security. Lin sat across from you, on a little cushion on the floor. The coffee table between the two of you was a large, square, wide coffee table that was low to the ground. He fished out his computer and notebooks and set them down. He stood shortly after.
Lin spoke, "Make yourself at home… How about some tea, hmm?"
"Oh," you hum. "Do you have anything relaxing?"
"Mmhm, coming right up," Lin grinned.
You took the time to set up your computer on the table and look around at the environment. Right above the sofa, he has a rare IronFist poster, the one IronFist took for the 2022 Dragon Punch figure collab! You knew it for how rare it was, and cause SwordMaster got the actual figure for you.
You never knew it came with a signed poster?
The sound of a kettle pot went off, and Lin returned with a tea tray with tall, handle-less tea cups. He poured the tea aroma into the cups, handing you yours and waiting before you ever took a sip.
"Let's get to work, yeah?"
-
Work?
The two of you barely did that.
Somewhere along the way, your tea was replaced with champagne, notes were scattered across the table, and you kicked back on the sofa on a much-needed break that lasted an hour.
"You'd think that, but I swear-- On my life! Iron Fist was there, two chill cheese dogs in his hand, my ankle in the other," you barreled out a laugh. "And all I could think about is, 'Damn, I'm so glad he saved my meal! That would've been 20 dollars wasted!"
Tears streamed out of your drunk eyes, your body half slumped over Lin's shoulder, half rocking back against the sofa backrest. Lin giggled along, his feet propped up on the table, slouching into the couch. His face was a red hue from alcohol, that pink-tipped nose of his seeming to glow… And those Obsidian eyes.
"Fuck, I'm glad you weren't offended…" Lin sighed awkwardly.
"Offended? The Ironfist touched my body! I mean- who wouldn't be honored?"
"Ooh, so you like him like that, huh? (Y/n). How naughty," he grinned.
"Oh yeah? You're not the same? He's a Greek god… No- Chinese God-- No, he's a dragon personified, sneaking around in a perfect human form…" You hid your face in his shoulder.
"No-- I don't like him like that."
"Righttt… So. How'd you get that 2022 figure, Lin…" Your voice was dangerously close, dangerously sexy.
The truth of the matter. Lin had already recognized you as BunnyFist. No, he realized it back in the car. Your body, your voice, the way you laughed and spoke. Your passion for Ironfist. He spent countless hours in your streams watching you, seeing all of you, Lin already knew. But, more than that, he respected you. You were a graduate student, going to the same massive, shitty university as him. Working an exhausting job yet ace-ing your school work.
You were so awesome.
He was lucky as hell to get assigned to the same project as you. He's still in denial that any of this was happening. The thing is, you came here to work and finish this project, and so did he. Nothing else.
But now.
Now you're driving him crazy.
He dodges the question, fleeing from your intensity, "I don't have the figure."
"Really," You drag tipsy fingers up his jacked arm, staring up at him from hazed eyelashes.
"I gifted to a uh… A friend," he gulped. You squeezed his biceps; his breath was failing beneath him.
(Y/n) He gifted it to you.
He gifted it to you.
Your hand slides from his biceps to his chest. His eyes are locked on you. You were like a panther, picking on its prey. "You know, Lin," the sofa beneath you creaks as you sit upright, pressing against him and leaning your lips into his ear. Your freehand takes his cheek, caressing it with your soft finger buds.
He's hard. He's hard instantly, and he whimpers into your touch.
Your voice. You were his BunnyFist.
Suddenly, though, you stop, flopping back down away from him. "Nah… I think it's just… My mind is playing tricks on me," You sigh. He instantly hunches over, hiding his lap from view.
A strained, awkward laugh leaves him as he discards his hoodie, dropping it in his lap, flashing those gorgeous arms of his that poked out of his red undershirt. "Want more tea-- (y/n)," he stammered, reaching for the empty tea tray, "Maybe we should switch back."
Did you just make a move on him?
Or were you just friendly??
"Yeah… Break's over… We do have more shit to do," You hum.
He sighs, relief budding on his shoulders. He collects the cups when you interrupt him again. "Wait… Hold on… That's a rare ass figure, Lin. Who'd you give it to?" you ask, shuffling behind him on the couch.
He looks back, and you're stretched out. Lying on your side, head propped up on the armrest, gazing at him with interest.
"Ah… This uh… Well," he says. He can't look at you and tell you this! "This girl I like…"
"Oh," your voice is laced with disappointment. "A classmate?"
"Mm-- Yea-- Well no… She's like… Kind of like a boss to me… I'm her client-- I guess? For a project," he says. He can feel himself ache in his pants. Mentioning you always had this effect, but talking about you to you. His mind was burning, self-restraint aching in his mind.
"Whoa? Scandalous, Lin! Falling in love with your contractor! That's dangerous," you sit up with a fervor. You ask, "You like older women?"
He nods, his eyes drifting down your body, clinging to your chest. He's not sneaky, you notice, your eyes hazing over again. So you weren't alone in the chemistry. He's sitting upright too, abandoning the tea set, his lips agape in a daze. Your hands reach for the hoodie in his lap. "Lin, I'm so cold," you whisper.
Your breath is close again, and your face is near. He's staring at your lips. You're staring at his. There's no shame here anymore.
"Take it," he says, without thinking. You slip it into your lap, not even using it, hands reaching up and combing down his wild hair. He's hard. You spare a glimpse of his giant print, straining in his jeans.
Fuck. He has to be huge.
You need it really badly. You need Lin.
You couldn't describe how he overrode your systems. Maybe it was the smell of him, being in his house, his muscle, his strength-- his voice. You'd been slick in your underwear for the last ten minutes, too slick to think straight.
It was just his voice.
You didn't know what it was, but every time he spoke, your mind stopped working. He was making you so horny.
You need to hear moaning.
You need to hear him while you pleasure him.
It's so primal. So primal, you don't care anymore.
You ask, "You two aren't serious, are you?"
You need to hear Lin's voice. You need to.
Lin goes quiet for a second. "What're you doing to me, (Y/n)," he whispers.
You whine, "Need me to stop?"
Lin turns to you, grabbing your hips, drawing in closer and closer.
"No," he whispers. Lin sinks into your lips, pushing you back onto the couch, large hands running up and down your frame. Lips crashed with a needy zeal, desperately brushing and slurping. Lin's legs sank in between yours, and pressed up against your clothed clit.
"a-aah," you cried out, dragging fierce claws through his mop of black hair. He sank into your neck, licking stripes, nipping, and sucking your bones. He panted like a madman, reaching lower and fiddling with his belt.
The sight was glorious.
You ask, "I make you that horny, Lin?" You cup and caress his cheek as he looks up at you.
"mf-- need you, (y/n)," he pouted, sitting upright and sliding his jeans off. His voice went straight to your cunt, and you shot up after him, sneaking on the floor as his pants hit it. He adjusted himself in anticipation, leaning his back against the couch and spreading out his legs. You crawled between each thick, meaty thigh, palming his wet boxers.
He'd been hard for some time, too; he's drenched with you.
His length was hot, fat, and girthy already. The print hung against his right thigh, seeping into the black cloth, twitching to be free. You stroked him slowly, licking a stripe up his thigh. His breath hitches in confusion.
"Wild girl," he pants out beneath shaded eyes. He collects the back of your head, guiding you closer to his dick, "Show me…" It's a plea.
You grab his hem, he aids you with slipping off his boxers, and out pops a hot, meaty cock. His tip is a fiery red, angry and alert, just as flushed as the tip of his nose. His middle shaft is fatter than the rest of him, bulging out to return to normal at the base. He was a lengthy, heavy thing; slipped back against his stomach, too much weight to stand up on its own.
You moaned out. He was just like those dragon cocks you used, but it was real- he was warm, veiny, and real. He was gonna be a chore to get in and out, but fuck, it's exactly how you liked it.
"Big guy… Whose been feeding you?" you whisper, taking a firm grip on his cock. He bucks out with a grunt, staring dead at you.
Your eyes meet. Normally, guys like him love to talk about whether you could handle these kinds dicks, but. Lin didn't do that. He stares down at you with intense, dark eyes. It was like he knew you could. Your pussy purred.
You collected his oozing juices on your palms, firmly stroking his length, reveling over how your hands spread out and shrank as you traveled past that fatty bulge in his middle shaft, his soft veins tickling the pads of your fingers. He was boiling with temperature, like a raging, unrelenting fire. Surely he'd burn you alive.
He was a dragon.
You leaned down, rolling out your touch. Lin braced for impact, breath picking up. He was dreaming. He was dreaming. BunnyFist was about to suck him off--
"Fuck Lin, that look is deadly… Mmhm, where's your phone? I gotta capture your beauty," you purred out. There you were teasing him more and more. He already knew how catty you were, but fuck, his cock was crying in your grip, needy.
"The table," he grunted.
You blink, taken aback, "Oh? You're okay with it? Me taking photos of you like this?"
"You want it, (y/n)… You offered," his eyes were so dark. You shivered delightfully.
You released his cock, it slapped back against his shirt, and you quickly grabbed his phone from off the table, polite not to smear his screen with his juices. You swiped right on his device, hopping into camera mode.
He was gorgeous. His tan, meaty thighs spread, his gut-destroying monster red and alert, following up a tart waist to broad shoulders. And the star, his glossy, hungry eyes, like a predator in waiting. He was going to pounce on you one day for sure. Oh, how you teased and delayed him.
It'll all run up. That patience won't spare you.
He was deadly.
You stuttered, "Fuck you're good, Lin."
You snapped photos, so sure the phone was shaking, getting the angles right, and his Obsidian pearls followed, lethally, dominantly staring into the camera no matter where it went. You lifted up his shirt, he helped you, taking it into his hands, then holding his shirt up with his teeth, dropping a meaty hand to clasp over his base. He adjusted his cock into the light, that red, fiery tip.
You quivered, "You're a natural… You belong on camera." His chest was still tan but significantly brighter than the rest of him. His shoulders were darker, showing how he often wore sleeveless shirts. How could he keep such a good tan up in the autumn? But his chest was chiseled, he looked like a fighter, and he could tank serious hits like it was nothing.
Just who was Lin Lie?
He growled, "Are you done?" His patience is running thin.
You snapped out of it, taking the last picture, and throwing his phone aside. "Shitt," he grumbled blissfully, collecting your hair as you sink into his monster cock.
You licked a fat stripe up his base, through his wide shaft, and to his tip. He hitches his breath, so warmly you invite his red tip into your mouth with kitten lips.
"Mm, so misbehaved… We'll fix that, Lin," you whisper. You cup his base with two hands, licking a pretty-looking stripe up his length. His taste is salty, faintly sweaty, and rich, too. Playing with the real thing was different, truly.
Lin only watches as you take his head into your mouth, your moist, hot breath grips him, and your tongue is polite in greeting him. You badger a sharp tongue into his hole, forcing him to buck in surprise. You flatten the hot muscle, aligning it beneath his dick, giving it appreciative licks before sinking.
You descend deeper and deeper, reaching his girthy shaft. Your jaw widens so large, so sure you'd choke to death on him. You grab his thick, warm hips, while your name is the only thing drifting out of his lips. You've deep-throated worse.
You bear through it, finding your nose pressed flat against a vein on his abdomen, his racing pulse beaming against your nose. Your throat was packed full, squeezed to no room, a true log in your throat. You slurp that tongue out of yours, as it curved down against his base and to a bit of his balls, so you lapped it greedily, bobbing your head slowly to match the rhythm.
"Shit-- (y/n)," he grunts. He dropped his head against the sofa, toes curling, heavy hand against your mop of hair. "Taking it all in… So good," he pants, never wanting to look away, but swept up by pleasure.
You took it seriously now, bobbing back to his middle shaft, how your throat stretched for the bulge, only to sink back down again, forcing that girthy part back deep. It was like your throat was getting fucked by him. Your hole ached painfully. Your spit and his precum built up sticky bubbles at the base of his cock, a shameful ring of combined liquid, paired with a sharp squelch for every bob on Lin's dick. And each time you made it back down, you licked up that area between his base and his balls.
Your speed quickened, swiping your tongue like a rattlesnake, feeling his tip poke at the back of you. Lin grew restless, panting, gasping out, gripping your hair knuckle tight, unable to praise you, slow you down-- hell, even get out coherent words. Seas of airy, deep moans, whimpers, and grunts bubbled out into the open air.
You were milking him dry, his precum like a ready faucet. Yet the only thing on his mind is that his long-time crush, the only woman in the world who he could get off to, BunnyFist was deepthroating him like he meant nothing. He's seen you suck the most monstrous things, fantasized it, even had it follow it into dreams, but to experience the gummy, lethal squeeze of your warm, soft throat, watch your pretty face eagerly Bob up and down- back and forth-- all with that fucking devilish gaze.
"Mhhhtt-- haa-- ah oh cumming, cumming b-bunny," Lin cries, his grip knuckle tight. It stings, but you slam down onto his base, humming intensely, shooting vibrations from your throat straight onto his cock, licking and lapping his base and balls, with a soft rock, ready to accept his salty shit straight into your body.
Lin whines out, the sound is strained, shot deep into the air, as hot wads burst into your throat. His chest is heaving, eyes lost beyond the clouds, pink lips red and parted tastefully. His grip steadies after his high, and finally, you can slide off, coughing at the burn in your throat, as spit and precum dribble down your neck.
Lin slowly leans forward, discarding his shirt and using it to wipe down your mouth and neck. His touch is gentle, despite his massive arms. "Fuck… Thank you… (y/n)," His face is flushed, and afterglow overtakes his tan cheeks.
He asks, cupping your dry face in his hands, pulling your face to him, "What do you need? Need some water?"
"Thank you?" you croak in confusion, a gentle giggle leaving you. "You're driving me crazy…" You gaze to your left, watching the night sky beam in from the windows.
What time was it?
He grins, "Come and get it, bunny." He's still hard.
Someone to finally match your stamina?
You grin, shooting into his arms as he embraces you, pulling you off the floor and into his lap. Your lips crash with a fire, messy and sloppy, lapping tongues against each other, scooping out his mouth, reveling in the sensual, wet touch.
His arms pull at your shirt, helping you lift it over your head. He dives into your neck, sucking and licking the space, while giant, warm hands caress their way up and down your body. They mingle with your ribcage before dipping to your back, snapping your bra free with a click. You pull back with a pant, and he's deadly quick with slipping the rest of the bra off you.
Your pretty chest, his gluttonous hands slide up them, cupping each to a hand, neither alone. "So pretty," he whispers in awe. His eyes were drowning in affection. Your heart skipped a beat.
"Kiss me, Lin," you whimpered. Not a second wasted, Lin dove in, guiding you, gripping your hips as you ground down on his cock. His fingers unbuttoned your jeans, unzipping the zipper.
He breaks free from the delicious lip lock, tasting your saliva on his tongue, he hushes, "We gotta get these off bunny."
"Mmh… Yeah, Sw--" you choke, "Bunny? Oh shit. Lin. Lin, what time is it?"
He flinches at first but steps into action. Lin reaches for his phone, tossed on the couch beside you, "It's t'uh… 9:30…"
"Shit! Listen-- Lin, I'm having so much fun, but I really gotta go." You dashed off, sliding to your feet, stuffing all the things you could into your backpack.
Lin reaches for his clothes, embarrassment tinting his cheeks. "Oh-- Okay... Y-Yeah..."
"Im so sorry I mean I-- Its nothing personal Im really having fun with you here," you choke up even mlre.
Lin's face is painfully red, as he bashfully cups the back of his neck. "No-- You're good I... I'll walk you out."
You smile, face heating up, "God thanks for being cool about this. Sorry well have to... You know. Link up again..." You chime.
Lin's eyes sharpen, "You know it, bunny."
You chuckle, boting your lips before refocusing on SwordMaster. "Mmh, yeah, hold on, I gotta send a text to my friends. Tell them I'm going to be a little late."
You pull up your chat log with Sw0rdMasterLL, stepping out of the way so Lin couldn't see your phone, your precious titties still hanging out.
BunnyFist: hi! sw0rdmasterLL!! smth urgent came up, im gonna b 10-20 mins late.
Ding!
Lin's phone chimes. He gasps behind you.
BunnyFist: i promise this won't take away from ur allotted time!! 💜
Ding!
Your eyebrows furrowed.
Sw0rdmasterLL is online.
You can hear Lin shift behind you.
BunnyFist: is that okay?
Ding!
Lin's phone chimed again.
Slowly, you looked up from your phone. There was Lin, his face a deep red, his pants barely thrown on, eyes staring frantically at the screen, then slowly, his eyes rose to you.
You waited a second, disbelief in your soul. You count five seconds.
Then you typed again.
BunnyFist: swordmaster
Ding!
"Lin," you huffed.
BunnyFist: Swordmaster
Ding!
"B-BunnyFist," Lin stammered.
Within seconds, you bounded forward, diving straight into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck, sucking his tongue up. His wild hands grazed over your back as you bucked and moaned into him from the kiss, sounds muffled by his lips. You broke apart with a heavy, primal whine, "SwordMaster, SwordMaster."
"Bunny," Lin grunted, taking your bottom lip and biting it with a drag.
"T-take my clothes off, fuck me, lin," you whined, head growing heavy and weak in his shoulder. You started grinding, whimpering like a dog fresh in heat.
He spared you, immediately picking you up by your ass and carrying you into his bedroom. He dropped you on his twin bed, which faced the corner of the room, and there he stood next to you, his tall foreboding frame looming over you, the exit behind him. With all this shade cast over him. His build reminded you of IronFist's pure, delicious mass.
You watch Lin's impossibly broad, large frame reach into the bedside table, pulling out a condom strip, and ripping one off with his sharp canine. It's a beautiful, anticipated sight, how dark-lidded eyes unwrap plastic with a frustrated, dead-flat expression, and guide a clear wrap over a leaky, monster dick.
"Please," you whine. Those dark eyes shot to you, all the stare of a dangerous force. Your body purrs out, bucking into nothing. He crawls on top of you, massive hands on either side of you, trapping you in his relentless gaze.
Those large hands roll down your shoulders as he kisses your lips, neck, collarbones, and tits in one go. Each press of his plump lips is a reaction to your soaked cunny, drenching the bedsheets beneath you.
"l-lin," you moan out, puckering your lips, trying to bring him back up.
He leans in slowly, eyes hazing. You shut yours, aching for a kiss.
Instead, with a mighty slam, your left leg is beside your head, knee dear to your elbow. You gasp, eyes shooting open, but before you could register, your right leg is captured the same way.
Lin leans into your ear with something delicious prodding your hole, "I know you're flexible…" He hushes lethally, airy and drunk, threatening. "I've seen your streams," he whispers, "You can take it."
Then, with no hands, Lin arches forward, his cock tip slipping through your folds, going up, badgering against your clit, right where your labia starts and beneath your hood. "S-shit, lin," you cry out. With no hands, he thrusts against the spot repeatedly, heavy breath above you, not breaking eye contact, thrusting against the same spot.
You've lost all control over your voice box, your toes curling in the air, your hole puckering, needy, clasping on nothing when you know it should be filled right now. Filled up to the brim by Lin. Your hand shoots up, grabs a chunk of his hard, muscular shoulder, nails baring into it. His precision continues on you, as he licks a fat stripe up your neck, your toes clenched.
"S-stop it-- mmmm lin pleasuh," you beg, feeling your juices dribble down your ass.
There's this evil grin splitting over his face, one mixed with pity and desire. "Alright, Bunny," he sighs, taking another wet stripe up your neck. With one far thrust, he slides the length of his boiling hot cock up your lips, preparing your senses for the fatness of it before it dives in.
Then, still with each of his hands pinning down your legs, he angles his hips downwards, dragging his tip across you until it hits your hole. "Welcome, welcome," he hushes out, "isn't that what you say?" Your body starts to squeeze, peppering kisses against his tip.
You whine and shiver, "creepy lin."
He laughs heartily, pecking a kiss of appeasement on your skin. His tip makes contact with your hole, the hot, round skin plunges in, as you suck in the full mushroom. He doesn't slow, sliding in at a steady pace, as your body sucks in his broad shaft, hymen stretching over its fatness, toes curling in delight, he's lengthy, just when you think you're about done, you finish over the fatness of his shaft, never meeting his base, as his fat tip plunges into your cervix.
"h-holy-- shit lin," you mewl, so sure it wasn't as big when it was all in your throat. You pick your head up, eyeing the space where your body connected, and only an inch hangs out of him. "N-no way," you mutter, but are silenced by sweet lips against yours, your legs brushing against his shoulders.
He tongue-fucks your mouth as he ravishes your walls, thrusting steadily, deep, intense thrust. His thickness splits you open, stretching you wide, plunging deep to kiss your cervix. Your toes clench, thighs trembling under his giant palms. You squeal into the kiss, but Lin is relentless, slurping up your tongue and muffling you.
His fat cock pounds into you, hitting the same spot in your gummy, spongy walls, the thrust echoing through your belly, your bladder trembling in the pressure. He finally frees your lips to groan out deep and slow, letting loose, letting hips fly. His obisidion colored eyes flee behind his lids, pink-tipped nose an erotic red, while his bruised, swollen lips take shape into a beautiful you. Your squelching takes up the room, decibel a kind to gunshots, your pussy seeming to live its high-life. All this filled up the room like an addictive drug, dousing out chemicals in your brain.
Lin can feel his balls start to surge, but neither of you wanted this to end. He slows down, pulling his cock out mid-way, admiring the ring of sloppy, pure white fluids around his base. "I can't pull out." Your pussy gripped him, sucking him right back in. He moans breathlessly, "You won't let me," he whines.
Your body shudders, savouring the minute to catch your breath. It doesn't last long as Lin collects your wrists, your legs still planted up in the air, he cocks his hips back.
"wu-- wait-- Lin," you stammer out.
And with one fierce thrust, he slams deep into you. Your head flies back into the pillows, your moan audacious.
He chuckles, "Be a good girl and keep your legs up there for me." His thrusts are swift and hard, like a bullet train or a jackhammer. So hard that he releases a pugnent, heavy grunt for everyone, his muscles straining, his breath controlled for his athleticism. Your palms meet his abdomen every thrust, his grip on your wrists secure.
You were being stretched to the max; the truth was, you weren't a built god the way Lin was. By now your legs were shaking, released to a wuivering, fatigued mess, body reacting uncontrolled, confused, a squirt sprays in the air. He laughs sweetly, "So pretty, bunny. Can't handle this?"
He released your arms, and you dropped your legs shortly after. He leans over you again, and your limbs wrap tight around him. His hands grab your hips, thumbs circling the bone. "It's s'all right, if I fuck you like this, I can hit your clit too," he hums.
"w'wu-ait lin--" he slams into you again, his abdomen bumping your clit roughly. You gasp sharply, hands gripping chunks of his beautiful, black locs. You were deathly overstimulated, the pressure of being manhandled built up in your bladder, pleasure turning your brain dumb. Lin, on the other hand, was so sprung, so athletic, you were confused he was superhuman. His rippling muscles weren't just for show, and neither was his flexibility. Your legs gripped around his hips for dear life, already sore but loving the way he murdered your pussy.
"Li-- Li-- ple..aahfu! Go-- mmff, gonna cum" you moaned out. His hammers hit your clit for every thrust, your sweet nub swells, filled with precious sparks, flavored in your erotic desire. It all bubbles up, bubbles up before you're seeing stars, and a sharp, circling orgasm takes your breath away. He fucks you through it, slowing down when you land back on earth, loving the way your body tremors as he kisses your neck.
"L-lin-nuh," you gulp, blinking slowly, soreness spreading up your ass and lower back. "So good-- m'pussy feels so good, babe," you whisper drunkenly.
"You did well, bunny," he mutters between his kisses. "But baby, 'm still so hard," he whimpers.
Your eyes shoot open, mouth hanging for flies. "My god… lin," is all you can manage as he pulls out, showing you his hard, red-tipped, fiery dick. He swings it; its length is mouth-watering. Your body surges in excitement as you find the strength in you to sit up. "I don't think I can take any more," you lick your lips, falling back against the bed frame, "But I can help you, darling." You open your mouth again, wide and erotic, your tongue lulling out, heat rising.
Lin chuckles, crawling up and straddling your chest. His knees were on either side of you as his cock aimed at your lovely mouth. The view was amazing, tall, muscular, tan skin as far as the eye can see, with rippling six-pack, complemented by deliciously full pecs. He was godly, and you swiped horny hands down his buttery rolls of packs. "My god, Lin, are you a super-hero or something? You're about built for war," you giggle as you kitten lick him.
His confidence is smug and sudden. "You would know. You've probably studied every picture of me on stream."
Your eyebrows furrow, "What--" Fat cock is shoved into your mouth, as your hands trail down his body and to his cock. It's tasty, hot, and salty, pumping to kiss your throat. After a few thrusts, he pulls out, rubbing his tip against your lips. "Mw'vhat d'ya mean," you muttered.
His free hand rises to his face, laying a hand over his eyes, "BunnyFist, don't you get it?" And suddenly it clicks.
"Iron--fii," the taste of him rolls on your taste buds as his cock glides right back in. your whole puckers around nothing as he uses your throat like a rag, its hotness restricting like a python around his dangerous length. You bob, suck, and hum, eyes shutting in bliss, excitement. Everything you ever wanted was blinding together like a blissful puree- to fuck sword master, to fuck lin, to fuck iron fist.
But hell, he was still in, that kid younger than you-- a girl pursuing her master's, so you pushed his hips, and he slipped out.
And with a deadly glare and blown-out eyes, you muttered, "Prove it."
A daring grin sliced up Lin's cheeks.
"我一往无前!"
Jade green burst out of his body, his forearms glowing an emerald color, supernatural swifts of dark matter circled his body, his heavy breaths going as silent as still water. "f-ffuck me-- lin," you cursed out, half in shock, half embracing yourself for the punishment he was surely going to deal to you. You had never seen such supernatural up close, not as Lin caressed your face and then grabbed the side of your hair, not as the green aura traversed down his cock, as its skin shimmered in a glittery, iridescent green glow.
"Lin?" he seems to get cocky, offering a scoff.
Your pussy sputtered, wetness all in your thighs again.
"What's my name, Bunny. Say it."
"I-IronFist," you moaned out, eyes fluttering behind your lids.
"Good girl," he purrs. He slaps his cock against your tongue, watching as your big eyes tremble between looking at him, his aura, and the sheen of his cock. "I think I'll finish like this," he mutters. IronFist lays his cock against your face, laying a thumb against his length to keep it steady. He thrusts against your face, his cock going up the side of your cheeks, your tongue, to your nose bridge, with its tip resting on the height of your hairline. You lulled out, eyes fluttering away as you absentmindedly licked up his length.
"Cum on me, IronFist," you sighed, heart skipping beats.
He grabs his length, jerking off so dear to your face, his tip poking your upper lip. "IronFist--" You mewled breathlessly. The gorgeous shot of him below at this angle, with his cock ready to spray you, marks you as the whore you felt in this moment. Wanting to be used by IronFist.
"ghn- Bunny,, shit," he groaned out, his voice sensitive and sharp.
His seed shoots out, spraying your face with an off-white filled with shimmering green. His aura weans before it's sucked right into him, flowing into his arms with an intense woosh. And for a minute after such fucking, the two of you sat there, out of breath, panting in an array of many emotions. Lin crawls off you, his face hot and embarrassed, staring at the mess he made of you. Your hymen was stretched, so visibly that he could see it, and your hair that was roughed up by his hands, how your legs twitched, still recovering from your heavy orgasm, and how you panted as if you ran a marathon.
A cheesy smile dashed his face.
He got to fuck his favorite pornstar, the woman he had been shooting shots with for countless months.
He crawls up close, wrapping you up into his arms, "(y/n), need me t--"
"You're IronFist? Like actually IronFist," you spat out, hands reaching up to cup his peck.
"I thought I proved it, bun'," he chuckled.
"I know, but," you squeeze his pec, "I think I'm in shock…" You gulp, sighing in airy bliss, "That sex was sooo good, Lin."
Lin smooths down your hair with a laugh, "It was amazing, (y/n)." He shifts to get up, but you grab him by his bicep, squeezing the thick meat there.
"I don't think I'll let you go-- ever. No, I won't let you go now, Lin," You command.
"Heh, I wasn't going anywhere, just gonna get you a towel."
"Don't need one."
"Really now? Sure." Lin leans forward, his tongue lolling out, lapping up his cum from off your face.
"So fucking hot, Lin," you laugh. "I wanna put you on camera."
"How are we gonna do that?"
"Maybe I'll do something like, 'Having My Boyfriend Stuff Shit Inside me Until I can't Anymore' stream," you grin deliriously. Lin pulls you into his lips; the kiss is possessive on both ends.
"So I'm your boyfriend now," he hums.
"They'll have to pry you from my cold, dead hands, Lin… Iron Fist," you moan.
"I love the sound of that," he says, sinking into you, kissing you deeply.
And as the night wanes, your project sits completely forgotten on Lin's table.
