Kirby

jake’s hand is heavy on the back of your neck, his thumb tracing the line where your hair meets your skin while he watches you struggle. being with an na’vi is a lesson in scale; his cock feels like a literal wall against your front, and even with you draped over his lap, you feel small, swallowed up by the sheer mass of him. the bioluminescent freckles on his cheeks glow a soft, steady blue in the dim light of the shack, contrasting with the flush on your own face.

"easy," he rumbles, his voice a low vibration that you feel in your marrow more than you hear in your ears. "you're getting ahead of yourself again."

his hands move to your waist, his long, thick fingers nearly meeting around your middle. he lifts you just a few inches, enough to break the rhythm you were trying to find, before settling you back down with agonizing slowness. his girth is a blunt, stretching pressure that leaves you breathless, making your vision swim as he fills you to the absolute limit. you can't help the way your fingers dig into his shoulders, your nails scratching against the tough, blue skin as you try to pull him closer.

jake lets out a huff of a laugh, a sound that's more growl than anything else, and hooks a finger under your chin to tilt your head back. your eyes are wet, hazy with a need that’s starting to feel like a physical ache. when he pushes a thumb into your mouth, you suck on it greedily, your jaw trembling from the strain of trying to stay quiet.

"that's it," he mutters, his eyes dark and fixed on your mouth. "just take it. i got you."

he starts to move his hips then, a shallow, grinding tilt that keeps the friction centered right where you're the most sensitive. it’s a slow, deliberate torture, and every time you try to buck against him to find a deeper angle, he just holds you firmer, making sure you feel every single ridge of him until you're nothing but a shaking, sobbing mess in his arms.

jake’s teeth graze the shell of your ear, his breath hot and smelling like the forest air outside. the slow, shallow grinding of his hips shifts into something more purposeful, more rhythmic. he isn't letting you go deep yet, just dragging the broad head of his cock against that one specific spot until your toes curl and you're whining into his thumb.

"you want it, don't you?" he asks, his voice dropping into a rough, jagged whisper. "say it. tell me what you need, baby."

you can barely get the words out. your head is lolling back, throat bared to him as you choke on a sob. "please, jake... i can't— just give it to me."

he doesn't wait for you to ask twice. his other hand slides from your waist down to your ass, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh there as he pulls you down hard. he meets you with a sharp, upward thrust that bottoms out deep inside you, hitting your cervix with a force that turns your world white. you let out a muffled scream against his hand, your body going rigid as the first wave of your orgasm hits, squeezing him so tight he groans, his forehead dropping against your shoulder.

"there you go," he pants, his pace turning fast and dirty now that you've broken. "take all of it. that's my girl."

he doesn't stop just because you've climaxed. he keeps driving into you, his massive frame shaking with the effort of holding back his own release while he watches you come apart. the sound of skin slapping against skin and the wet, messy friction of your arousal fills the small space, drowning out the sounds of the pandoran night.

jake's grip on you becomes bruising, his breathing turning into harsh, animalistic huffs. he tilts you back, his eyes locked on yours as he delivers three more heavy, soul-crushing thrusts before he finally stiffens, his own release hitting him with a violence that makes his tail lash behind him. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his weight sinking into you as he fills you with a hot, pulsing heat that seems to go on forever.

jake’s breathing is a series of jagged, heavy rasps against your skin as he keeps you pinned to his lap. he doesn’t pull out; instead, he stays buried deep, his hands still clamped onto your hips to keep your body sealed against his. you can feel the rhythmic, heavy pulses of him emptying into you, a thick, hot overflow that makes you feel stretched and heavy in a way that’s almost overwhelming.

"don't move," he grunts, his voice thick with the aftershocks of his own peak. "stay right there. i want you to keep every bit of it."

you're still coming down, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. the sensation of him filling you up leaves you feeling dizzy. he finally lifts his head, his pupils blown so wide they almost swallow the yellow of his iris. he looks at you with a raw, possessive heat, his hand moving up to brush a stray, sweat-soaked hair from your forehead.

"look at that," he murmurs, a ghost of a smirk pulling at his mouth as he watches the slight tremor in your legs. "good girl. took it all just like you were told."

slowly, he begins to ease back, and you let out a soft, broken sound at the loss of the pressure. the mess of it is immediate, a warm, slick slide of him and your own arousal coating your thighs and the blue skin of his lap. he doesn't seem to mind the mess; if anything, he looks satisfied, reaching down to smear a bit of the excess over your hip like he's branding you.

jake pulls you back against his chest, wrapping his massive arms around you and tucking your head under his chin. the frantic energy of the shack has settled into a lull. he doesn't say much else, just starts a slow, grounding rub along your spine, his tail curling loosely around your ankle.

"get some sleep," he whispers, his voice finally softening. "i'm not going anywhere."

"I can't do it like this" the straps around his upper torso shift with each flex of his muscles. "jake come on fuck me" you say in a soft tone, tracing your fingers over the detailed lines of his pecs all the way down to paw at the curve of his waist.

lifting your hips off the floor to rub your bare cunt right against his hardened dick. whimpering at the hot sensation. the thick girth wedged between your swollen lips. legs locked tight around him, ruining all his chances of actually being able to sit up. you know he could, if he wanted to but at the same time you know his body is craving for your warmth. your wet velvety walls wrapped tight around his dick.

"baby i can't..." his voice is strained, knees giving in and he manages to not drop his entire weight onto your smaller figure. instead his lower half traps yours. taking all the air out of your lungs. messy dreads falling all over your face, shoulders flexing when his hips start moving on their own accord. "f-fuck i don't think..." jake grunts out, tail moving from side to side in blurs of blue and black. his thighs flush against the underside of yours. muscles straining with all your grinding. eyes glued to the underside of his jaw. clenching and unclenching until he pants and drops his head between his shoulders to lock eyes with you. his expression troubled yet full of scorching hot arousal.

"mean...you're so mean" jake announces with a breathy whimper. handcuffed wrists slowly settling down as he accepts his position. thrusting up needily, craving that warm slide and delicious friction. "m-mh" he moans, as you trail your tongue over his chest. locking your legs tighter around his waist and his mouth drops open. "oh fuck" he curses as his tip slides a little past your entrance. and he nearly slips once again, his elbows digging harder into the ground, keeping himself hovering above you. maybe these handcuffs were a good thing-

....

You’re not casual. You’re obsessive, and quietly insane. You don’t become the top of your field like this while being anything else. It’s easy to contain yourself in this kind of work, in it’s order and chaos all at once. There are rules that you to follow, then break, and everyone praises you and you glow like a diamond catching sunlight.

Not absorbing it. Because it passes right through, and it’s never enough, and you get addicted to it. The praise, from these living gods. They all love you, and you bask in it, and then you look at him.

Bucky.

The only one who doesn’t praise you. Who doesn’t treat you like a good dog, bringing them treats and newspapers. When you met him, he barely treated you like anything at all. Tony had introduced you, he’d looked you up and down, shaken your hand, and walked away.

But you.

You’d been a fucking goner.

Bucky’s handsome in the way you used to only see in movies. Your exact type, from the hair to the eyes to the way he carries himself. Silent and in control, kind but not overly nice, polite without expectation. You’d made it two years without developing a crush on anyone. Somehow, surrounded by some of the world’s most handsome men, you’d maintained that tiny sliver of your sanity.

Then there was Bucky. And you lost yourself.

You’re not weird around him. You’re not a stalker, and you’re not that kind of insane. You’re perverted in the privacy of your head, drooling over his massive hands and muscles, but swallowing it before it leaks out of your lips. You don’t react when Tony says his name, save for a traitorous pulse in your cunt.

“You ready to look at his arm?” Tony asks, and you hum.

“Think so. Just maintenance?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tony sighs. “I’d work on Terminator myself, but Cap says I spend the whole time looking like I want to throat chop him. So,” he shrugs. “Don’t look like you wanna throat chop him.”

You laugh softly, and grab the tools off the bench. It’s not a big deal. You’re the only person besides Tony, in the whole building, who’s qualified to work on Bucky’s arm.

But that means you get to be close to him. Just the thought of it makes your skin hot, your heart buzzing more than thumping, your fingers fidgeting with the straps of your toolkit as you restlessly wait.

Bucky says your name, and your head shoots up. He’s there. He’s right there, and watching you with those careful, beautiful eyes.

“Hi,” you say, and it sounds so pathetically breathless.

Bucky tilts his head. His hair looks soft. You want to run your fingers through it, to pull on it, to feel it tickling over your face as he ruts into your drooling pussy-

He’s staring at you. He must’ve said something that you didn’t hear. Fuck.

“What?”

His lips twitch. Just the smallest movement up, almost impossible to catch. Your heart skips, and you almost miss his words again.

“You the one workin’ on me today?” His voice is low. It rolls through the air like thunder.

You wonder, if there’s any part of him that isn’t addictive.

You’re here for a job. You’re here to give him medical treatment. You plaster a sweet smile on your face, and gesture to the chair. You can be normal about this.

“Tony has bad bedside manner,” you say smoothly, and Bucky chuckles.

God, that’s worse than the smile. It echoes through your chest, and you almost choke on it. How fucking bad you want him.

“He does call me Schwarzeneggerevery time I’m here,” he mutters, crossing the room. “Don’t even know what that means.”

You hum, pretending to look at your tools. He’s sitting down next to you. Your knees are bumping. You’re normal. “Arnold Schwartzinagor. Actor who played the Terminator.”

“Ah.” Bucky pauses. “Sam calls me that, too. It a good movie?”

“It’s fine.” You shrug. “If you like stuff from the 80s.”

“I don’t know things from the 80s.”

You laugh softly, and look up with an apology on your tongue. You find Bucky staring at you, and your breath catches in your throat.

His eyes are so intense, you think they can see right through you. To the lust, pounding in your bloodstream. You have to open your mouth to breathe. Bucky’s eyes flick down. Just tracking a movement. Nothing about you.

You kick yourself internally, and push the casual smile back into place.

“I think you’d like some of it.” You reach for his arm, and Bucky turns it palm up, still staring at you. “I mean, any decade will have it’s ups and downs.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You run your fingers over the plates of metal, and for a second, forget all about the Bucky attached to them. It’s a beautiful artwork of technology. Overlapping, gold-inlaid, smooth under your fingers. You turn the wrist slowly, and there’s only a faint whir. No clicks. Shuri must be using a muffler, or some kind of fluid that moves the wires instead of gears-

“You want me to go?”

Your head shoots up, a panicked flush spreading over your cheeks. “No- No- I- I’m just-“

Bucky raises his brows, light amusement dancing in his eyes. Your words falter. He’s fucking with you.

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes, and Bucky chuckles again.

God, that sound. It’s going to be the death of you.

“It’s just- It’s amazing technology.” You mumble defensively, and Bucky shrugs.

“I can tell, from the way you’re eye fuckin’ it.”

“Eye fucking.” You shake your head, biting back your smile. “How do you even know what that means?”

“Too much time with Sam.”

“Hm,” you grab your screwdriver, running your hands up the mock muscle—he should be thanking Shuri even more, she didn’t have to give him biceps—looking for a panel. “Tony told me you weren’t going to talk.”

“Tony’s got that bad bedside manner,” Bucky shrugs with his good arm. “You gonna be nicer to me, doll?”

You just hum, ducking your head to hide your flush. Doll. He called you doll.

And Bucky huffs an amused laugh, at your non-answer. But he keeps talking to you. He tells you what Sam’s already gotten him to watch, and what Steve’s trying to get him to watch next, and what Steve’s saving so they can look at it together.

“Is Star Wars any good?” He asks, and you snort.

“Do you like cowboys?”

“I’m neutral.”

“Do you like space?”

“Yeah,” he pauses, then mutters, “I wanted to go to the moon. When I was a kid.”

You look up, and find a faraway look, etched over his handsome features. Your smile softens, and you lower your voice to a whisper, because this feels like a secret. “Yeah?”

Bucky nods, his eyes finding yours again. “I heard we got up there eventually.”

“We did. A few times.” It’s hard to hold his gaze. An unbearable ache is staring to pool between your thighs. “But now there are aliens on earth, so the final frontier is less… Coveted.”

Bucky’s lips twitch. It seems to be the closest he really gets to smiling. You want to see it over, and over, and over again.

“I think you’d like Star Wars.” You’re still whispering. You don’t know why.

“Alright,” Bucky says. And that’s it. He just… Trusts your words.

He asks for you again, next week. Tony claps you on the shoulder and thanks you, because Christ, he stares at me and I feel like I’m under surveillance. You roll your eyes and don’t respond. It doesn’t feel like that when Bucky stares at you, but he also does stare at everyone. So you’re not special. You’re just another person in his line of sight.

“I tried those donuts you were talkin’ about,” he tells you one afternoon, and you hum.

It’s the new routine. Bucky comes for you to work on his arm. You’re normal about it. You talk like people, and his lips twitch, and you feel something press on top of your chest, trying to gnaw your heart right open.

“Liked them,” he adds, staring at you. As always.

You hum, looking at him under your lashes. “Did you have the cookies and cream?”

He nods. “Just like you told me to.”

You smile despite yourself. It’s those small confirmations that he thinks about you, which get you the most. It means you mean something to him. It drives you insane.

“Sam says there are all kinds of ice cream flavors now, too.”

“Sam’s right.”

Bucky sighs. “Hate it when that happens.”

You laugh, a bubbly, pathetic sound that only Bucky pulls out of you. His fingers twitch under your hand, and you glance up.

It would be wise, if you stopped doing that. Every time you find him staring at you, you feel fucking insane.

“You should try cotton candy ice cream,” you murmur. “It’s fucking crazy.”

“That is my favorite kind of thing.”

“I know.”

Bucky’s lips twitch, and your heart almost bursts. “You got a good place? For ice cream?”

You shrug. “The grocery store?”

Bucky grunts, and his fingers twitch again. You focus back on his hand, because you don’t understand why they keep doing that. The rest of the session passes, and Bucky smiles at you before he goes, and you hold onto it like he just handed you a pearl-strung noose. Clutched between your teeth and priceless, but making your breathing short.

The rest of the day always passes in a daze, after you see Bucky. The seconds rush past you in an avalanche, and then you’re in your room, and  you let it take over.

How much you want him. How much you need him.

You lay, flat on your back in bed, and let your thoughts run wild. Bucky’s massive hands, one cool and one burning hand, would wander up your thighs. He’d shove your knees open, and kiss over the sensitive, hidden patches of skin. The stubble he’s been growing would scrape and tickle, as he kissed over your weeping pussy.

“All for me?” He’d murmur, and you’d nod helplessly. “You just walk around, pussy leakin’ because of how bad you need it?”

And you’d whimper. You do. There’s nothing you can do to help it, but save that desire for locked doors and hot, tangled sheets. Your fingers—smaller than Bucky’s, but all you have—rub over the swollen lips of your pussy, spreading your arousal as you picture that it’s Bucky instead. You push one finger in slowly, then a second one because you need them to stretch you like Bucky’s would.

“Messy girl,” he’d coo in your ear, and your back arches. You start to fuck yourself, slow and tentative as your thoughts run wild.

This is what just one of his fingers would feel like. Pumping in and out of you, his palm grinding down on you clit until you’re trembling beneath him. You’d try to push up into his hand, but he’d shove you right back down and kiss over your throat. Licking and nipping and driving you out of your fucking mind.

“Buckyyyy...” You moan at the air, and when you squeeze your eyes shut you can almost feel him.

“There you go, babydoll,” he’d kiss under your ear, his body pressing over yours. Warm and massive, pinning you to the bed, forcing you to just take it. “That’s it. You like that, don’t you. Like fallin’ apart on my fingers.”

You whimper and grab at the sheets. Your wrist aches, and you can’t hit that gooey, wet spot inside you, but god you just need to cum.

“I know,” Bucky would hit deeper. Wet, lewd sounds would fill the room, as he pounded his fingers into you at an unforgiving pace. “I know, sweet girl. C’mon, show me how pretty you are when you cum.”

Your back arches off the bed. Your hand shoots over your mouth as you moan and cry out his name, your thighs shaking and pussy squeezing down on your fingers. You lay there for a while after you’re done, holding the sheets in a vague form of Bucky.

Tomorrow, you’re going to see him again. Maybe just over breakfast, or passing in the hall. But you’ll see him. And you’ll have to look him in the eyes, and pray that he can’t see it just under your features. That all he’d ever need to do it touch your head, and you’d fall to your knees.

You’re devoted to him. He thinks of you as a friend, and he’s not your boss, but he’s boss adject, and there’s nothing about him that’s accessible. There’s no world where this ever goes beyond fantasy.

But god, you’re going to fantasize. You can’t hurt anyone, by just fantasizing.

That’s what you’ll tell yourself over and over, to avoid the guilt.

It’s all just a fantasy.

You‘re perfectly professional about it. It’s not Bucky’s fault that he’s so handsome it feels like you shouldn’t be allowed to look at him. You can keep your desire bottled up, keep in the warmest, wettest pits of your stomach. It can seep out between your thighs when it becomes too much to bare. It can breed into itself and spread up into your heart, festering in the dark. But Bucky will never see it. You’ll be good, and you’ll act sane, and that will be it.

He’s been through too much already, to add your insatiable, ardors devotion to his list of problems.

You’ve developed an easy friendship. That’s all you’ll allow yourself to have, all you let yourself think about in his presence. When you’re working on his arm, you don’t think about those big, cold fingers being buried in your pussy until you’re alone in your room. All your daydreams are trapped in your sheets, and your moans absorbed and locked in your pillowcase.

You think about Bucky pinning you down with a warm, splayed hand on your abdomen. About his smirk, as he bullies three metal fingers into your pussy, forcing a perfect stretch before fucking you like a toy. His cold thumb swiping over your clit, sending shivers through your body. His eyes gleaming and attention burning, as he drags out orgasm after orgasm.

That hand would be like having a personal fuck machine, and he’d act like it until the very end. All taunting and teasing until you were spent and limp below him. Then he’d kiss the corner of your mouth, your cheek, the space between your eyes. He’d coo about what a good girl you were for him, and you’d whimper, your voice lost from screaming his name.

“What’re you thinking about?” Bucky says, sitting next to you at the kitchen counter.

You swallow, and shrug meekly. You never feel small around anyone but him, but you’ve never been this lost in anyone but him. It’s a miracle no one’s noticed, how Bucky shows up and suddenly you’re all flushed cheeks and girly giggles. You might as well be twirling your hair and kicking your feet. It’s pathetic. You can’t stop.

“Nothing?” Bucky pushes a little, and you give him a close-lipped, full smile.

“Nope.”

“You looked like you were thinkin’ about something.”

“I wasn’t.” You look back to the sandwich you’d been working on. Bucky keeps staring at you. He always does. “Nothing going on up here, Barnes.”

Bucky’s lips twitch.

The whole world seems brighter, like he’s just like some holy kind of candle.

“I don’t believe that,” he murmurs, and you shrug.

“You don’t have to.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Good for you.”

“It is, isn’t it,” he chuckles. “I’m gonna love being right.”

You blink, shooting his a sideways look. “Being… Right?”

“I know you’re thinkin’ about something.” He shrugs. “I’ll figure out what.”

Oh. Under no circumstances can he find out what you’re thinking about. “It’s not anything interesting,” you try lamely, and Bucky smirks.

“Ah. So it’s something.”

“I- That’s-“ You sputter. “Why do you even care-“

“I like knowin’ what you’re thinking,” he shrug. “It’s always interesting.”

You blink at him. For some reason, that makes your throat close up, your eyes burning with embarrassing tears. Your knees are wobbling, and you’re sitting down. You grunt and look back to your sandwich, and Bucky chuckles.

“C’mon. Tell me.” He leans closer. There’s a gravity, from his heat, and it makes you want to just collapse over his chest.

You look at him from the corner of your eye, and you won’t tell him. That’s against the rules. It defeats the purpose.

But god, he’s looking at you. Really looking at you. You can count each shade of blue in his eyes. If you move just an inch, your noses might bump.

“I’m hungry,” you whisper, and Bucky’s brow knits.

He looks down to your sandwich. Then back to you. Adorable confusion flashes over his face. “You should… Uh- Eat.”

You nod, and he clears his throat, leaning back. You wish you could grab the collar of his shirt, and drag him back.

“You ever seen this thing called the Princess Bride?” He asks, not touching any food himself.

Just sitting there. With you. You try not to think about it too much.

You nod, chewing on your sandwich with puffed out cheeks. “’S a really good movie-“

“Chew then swallow, doll.” Bucky’s lips twitch, and you flush and obey.

“It’s a good movie,” you mumble, giving him a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

Bucky shrugs, his gaze dropping to your mouth. Your breath hitches. You go perfectly still, afraid that if you shift, he’ll look away.

His tongue darts over his lips. He tips his head, his forearm flexes as he curls his fingers, and your breathing gets shallow. Something electric has shifted in the air, and it’s making you dizzy. Bucky reaches up slowly, and if you weren’t rooting in place, you think you’d fall out of your chair.

His thumb wipes the spot right above your lips, and a shock rushes through your body. His nostrils flare, his eyes lock onto yours, and his touch lingers.

When he pulls back, the movement is slow. Controlled. Your tongue flicks out, to lick where his thumb had been. Bucky’s nostrils flare.

There’s something on his thumb. Tiny little breadcrumbs that must’ve been stuck to your cheek from the sauce. Bucky brings the finger up to his mouth, holding your gaze, and sucks the crumbs away. Heat pools in your tummy, and your thighs press together.

Bucky stares at you. You grab the edge of your seat with white  knuckles, trying to keep yourself from falling off.

“Crumbs,” he mutters, and you nod.

“Yeah.”

“I- Uh-“ He coughs, and looks away. Disappointment sinks like a boulder into your stomach.

You don’t know what you expected. Hell, you’ve told yourself what to expect. You’re not allowed to be disappointed by him. You’re not allowed to want anything from him, except for what your head can offer.

“Sam’s been tryin’ to make me watch it,” he mutters, and you blink.

“What?”

“Princess Bride.”

“Oh.” You’re still a little drunk on his proximity. He smells like something rich and spicy, and it’s fogging up your brain. “Cool.”

Bucky nods. “We’re gonna watch it next Friday. In that common room, where Stark makes us do game nights.” He gives you a sideways look. “I never see you at those.”

You shrug. “I’m not an Avenger.”

“Stark says you get invited.”

You do. But that would be a night of drinking and laughing and being closer to Bucky than you can handle, so you usually lock yourself in your room and pretend he’s fucking you stupid.

“You’re invited to movie night, too.” He adds casually, and you swallow.

Movie night. Where Bucky would be near you. In the dark. You can’t go there. You’ll lose your mind.

But he’s looking at you with such dim, cautious light in his eyes. There’s no expectations. Just hope. And it pulls the words out of you before you can stop them.

“Oh- Okay.”

Bucky beams, and that makes it worth it. The risk, that he might brush your hand in the dark and you’ll moan loud enough for everyone to hear.

He reaches up, and wipes a few more breadcrumbs from your cheeks. Time seems to stop, when he touches you. It’s dangerous, and you barely manage not to fall all over him before he pulls away.

“You get messy,” he mutters, and oh, God.

You shouldn’t have said yes. Why the fuck did you say yes. Now you’re going to have to sit next to him, after that.

You get messy. He has no idea.

That night, you end up back in your bed with a vibrator pressed over your panties. It makes the feeling stronger, with the friction of the fabric, and you toss your head back. It’s easier and easier to get lost in the fantasy, lately. The better you know him, the clearer it gets.

You can almost feel his hands, mapping over the curves and soft dips of your body. You can almost smell him.

He mouths at your breast, pinching and rolls your nipple between metal fingers. You make a broken, pathetic sound, and he smirks.

“I know, doll. Too much, isn’t it?”

You whimper, pressing the vibrator down. Bucky hums, his hand wrapping around yours, and your hips jerk when he angles it to shove right against your clit.

“Too much,” he coos, making out with the softness of your breast. “I’m barely even touchin’, and you’re already about to fuckin’ fall apart for me.”

Your eyes roll back, as Bucky starts to guide the vibrator up and down. Your mouth falls open in a long moan, as he grabs your hips and pushes them higher, further exposing your pussy. He bites at your nipple, then turns his attention to the neglected one. You writhe in the sheets, gasping his name, and he smiles.

“Dirty girl.” He pushes your hand back, just enough for him to rip away your panties, exposing your cunt to the cold air. “Look at that, pretty little pussy fuckin’ shining for me.”

You grind down, trying to find friction on the sheets. Bucky pushes the vibrator against your bare pussy, and your eyes roll back in your head. He starts kissing all over your chest, pawing at your breasts and swirling his tongue around you nipples, sending electric shock through your body. He licks the sensitive buds the same way he licked his thumb. Your hips start to roll mindlessly, as the coil in your stomach threatens to snap.

When you cum, it’s with a cry of his name. The coil snaps, and heat floods out of your pussy, all over the vibrator and your hand. Your body convulses with the sheer force of it, and Bucky kisses down. Over your abdomen, your hips, your inner thighs.

“What a mess, baby.” He mocks, before pressing the sweetest kiss to your clit.

You sob, trembling in the sheets, and grab at his hair.

But your hand finds nothing.

Because it’s just another fantasy, kept in the confines of your mind.

Movie night was a bigger mistake than you could’ve ever imagined.

You show up, and it’s just Bucky and Sam. Sitting on opposite ends of the couch, because men are strange creatures.

“Stevie’s on a mission,” Bucky says, staring at you like he’s seeing an angel. Like he didn’t invite you.

There’s an odd rasp to his voice, too. Maybe he’s just tired.

Sam says your name, that signature, I know something that everyone else doesn’t smirk on his face. You don’t think much if it. He always has it, even when he doesn’t know shit.

“Buck told me you’d be comin’. I didn’t believe him.”

“Sam.” Bucky grunts, and Sam shrugs.

“What? I didn’t.” He grins at you. “You never leave your lab-“

“She leaves her lab.” Bucky gives you an apologetic look, but you just laugh.

“No, he’s right. I really don’t.”

Bucky sighs, rolls his eyes, and pats the seat next to him. You smile to yourself, taking a long breath before you move. You’re going to be normal about this. Very, incredibly normal. So normal, they’ll think something’s wrong, because no one’s ever been this normal in history.

You last ten minutes.

The movie starts. You’ve seen it before, but you try to pay attention to every, tiny detail. The only other option is paying attention to Bucky. To the weight of him at your side, the way his knee brushes against yours and his arm is slung over the back of the couch. You’ve never seen him so relaxed and tense, all at once. He’s sunken into the cushions, but whenever you look over, his jaw is tight.

You could swear you catch his gaze, once or twice. If you do, he looks away immediately. And you feel it, that buzzing heat over your skin. But you’re supposed to be watching the movie. He’s supposed to be watching the movie. So you really, really try not to look over.

Bucky’s knee pushes against yours, and you swallow. His fingers trail near your shoulder, and you wrap your arms around your stomach to suppress the shiver. He’s warm. So fucking warm you can feel it, blooming in your core. You shift in your seat, and you’re already wet.

The movie isn’t even a third of the way done.

Bucky’s fingers rest on your shoulder. It’s so light, so casual, you’re not even sure he knows he’s doing it. You take the risk, and turn to fully look at him. He’s gotten even more relaxed, the knit of his brows loosened, pretty pink lips parted as he watches the TV. You want to reach up, and trace the stubble of his jaw. Maybe kiss up the column of his throat, dig your nails into his pecs and make out with that full, perfect mouth.

You let out a tiny sigh. Bucky doesn’t react to it. Too lost in the movie. Not paying you any mind.

And you should look away. You’re not here to Bucky watch.

You turn your head for three whole seconds, before your eyes start to ache. As if they can’t stand not to look at him. You try to resist it, but it plays over and over, on a loop in your brain. The image of him in the dark. The heat from him, almost penetrating under your skin and making you rise up like a balloon. Your head is in the clouds. You have to look at him.

You close your eyes, trying to fight it. Bucky’s hand drops from your shoulder, down to your upper arm, and your breath hitches.

Your eyes shoot open, and Bucky’s right there. Staring at you, with the same intense, focused need that’s clawing at your ribs and up your throat.

He grabs your chin, between strong but gentle fingers. You swallow, letting your gaze trail down his body. His massive chest, torso that looks perfect to hook your legs around, his thick thighs and his crotch.

The bulge, pushing through his sweats. It looks thick. Long and thick, demanding some attention. You look back to Bucky with your best, doe-eyed pout. He smirks, and leans down to kiss you. It’s slow and deep, his tongue swiping over your lower lip before pushing into your mouth. You moan, and Bucky weaves his hair through your hair, tugging slightly. Your second moan is downright pathetic. You grab his thigh, letting your nails brush against the outline of his cock.

Bucky hisses against your lips, and pulls back. You bat your lashes at him, and his lips twitch.

“Messy girl,” he mutters, before pressing a sweeter, mocking kiss to your lips.

He pulls away too quickly, but before you can give chase, you’re lost in a daze. Bucky’s pulling down his pants, taking his boxers with him. His cock springs free, thick and veiny, massive even in his own hand. He strokes himself slowly, giving you a prompting, amused look. You swallow, licking your lips.

“C’mon, doll,” he beckons. “Show me what you can do.”

Almost in a trance, you nod. Bucky’s eyes darken, as you crawl over his lap. You move his hand away, and fist his cock in one hand. He grabs the back of your neck, not to push, but for balance. A low, guttural sound rolls through his chest as you start to pump him, and you smile to yourself.

He really is perfect. A heavy, certain weight in your hand, jumping slightly whenever you squeeze him near the base. You shift back on your knees, using your other hand to massage his balls. He hisses, his grip tightening on your neck, and you smile. 

When you look at him, there’s nothing but pure devotion in his gaze. You squeeze again, then pick up your pace, and he groans out your name.

You kiss him, pushing his head back against the couch cushions. He grunts, but lets you guide him. As if he knows that it’s all just a show, before you let him fuck your face like an animal.

“Relax, baby,” you breathe against his lips.

Bucky lets out a deep, rough laugh. “Little hard to do that right now.”

You giggle, swiping your thumb over the slit of his cock. “Is it? Hard?”

Bucky groans, and deepens the kiss. You slide off of him, before he can just grab your hips, pick you up, and sit you on his dick.

You move back, lowering down to your stomach so you’re eye level with his dick. He’s pulsing in your hands, trying to hold himself back. You don’t want him to. You want him to cum everywhere. Down your throat and over your face and tits, claiming you in one of the most primal ways possible.

“Doll…” Bucky rasps, and you look up at him under hooded eyes. He’s a wrecked. Bulging muscles and sweat, slicking on his brow. “Don’t tease- Jesus-“

You wrap your mouth around him, and take him as deep as you can go. He bumps against the back of your throat, but you suppress your gag reflex, relaxing to try and get even more. Your nose brushes against the hair at base of him. Your tongue presses flat against Bucky’s shaft, your fingers still working his balls, and he fists his hand in your hair.

“So- So fuckin’ warm-“ He chokes out. “Holy- You’re somethin’, sweetheart- God-“

You hum, and Bucky’s hips jerk up. He stutters out an apology, but you just moan again. He tries to pull you off, muttering more apologies, and you dig your nails into his thigh. You want it. You want him to use you.

He gets it, after a moment. His grip on your hair tightens. He starts slow, jerking his hips up as he pushes you a little further down, before yanking you back. You moan around his cock, drool falling from your swallow lips. Your eyes roll back. He’s using you, god, he’s using you, and it’s the best fucking thing in the world.

Bucky fucks your face like a fleshlight, and you grind your ass up against nothing. He hits the back of your throat, over and over, salty and heavy on your tongue. The sounds he makes are beautiful and sinful, and-

“Something on my face, doll?”

You blink, and Bucky’s cock isn’t in your mouth anymore. You smack your lips, trying to find it. Bucky frowns at you, the light of the movie making him even more, impossibly handsome. Sam ignores you both, popcorn stuffed in his mouth.

Bucky looks worried. He said something.

“Hm?”

“You were, you were- Uh-“ He clears his throat, then shakes his head. “Never mind.”

He looks back to the TV, and your face burns. His thigh is pressed right against yours. You can swear, when you lick your lips, you can still taste his dick.

You’re so, so fucked.

It only gets worse.

Eating breakfast becomes a trial, because Bucky is always there, and you’re always thinking about his fingers while he eats. How they’d feel stuffed down your throat, gripping your hips, scissoring deep inside of you. He wipes cream cheese off your cheek, and you almost moan.

“You feelin’ alright?” Bucky says, always so caring and worried, and you nod weakly.

“Yeah. Just- Just tired.”

He looks at you like he doesn’t believe you, but lets it go. If you were smarter, you’d be avoiding him. But you’re not. And you still have to work with him, anyway. It makes avoiding him rather impossible.

For a while you cling onto the idea that work would be sacred. That while Bucky’s in your office and you’re examining his arm, it’s purely professional. Not a single dirty thought.

You last about a week, with that one.  Bucky startles you walking in. You trip, and he catches you around your waist.

“Careful,” he smiles down at you, all handsome and stupid.

“Uh huh,” you breathe out, and you could’ve sworn a flood gushed out between your legs.

Bucky’s nostrils had flared, and he’d helped you up to your seat. You’d already had the new fantasy, blooming in your mind like the little fucking pervert that you were. You’d tried to shove it down, swaying in the middle of the room, but then you’d looked at him. Sitting with his legs spread in your chair. And you’d been lost.

You imagined climbing into his lap. His arm wrapping around you as you sat down on his cock, grinding slowly, lashes flutters as he kneaded and pulled at your hips and breasts. He’d stand up, taking you with him like you weighed nothing, and pin you to the wall. One arm would stay around you, holding you in place as his mouth started to explore your dripping cunt.

His tongue would work you open, pushing in and out of your pussy. He would’ve already cum inside of you, and every stroke of his tongue would send a wave of your mixed arousals over his beard. You’d watch him, moaning his name, and his thumb would bully and flick and tease your clit, until your were dazed and gasping for air and-

Bucky says your name, and you could slap yourself. This is getting out of hand.

“Sorry,” you mumble, sitting next to him. He smiles at you, so kind.

Always so kind.

“You’ve been kinda out of it, lately.” His words are casual. You still daydream about shooting yourself and running away.

“Just getting lost in thought,” you murmur, and he hums.

“Anything I can help with?”

You shake your head, because if you speak you’ll start begging. Please, please, please, he’s the only one who can help you, you’re going insane with how much you need him, and he could save you, he could really save you-

“Movin’ usually helps me.” He offers softly. You almost don’t hear him. “Y’know. Using my body. Remembering that it’s mine.”

“Yeah?” You say softly, cleaning the panel near his shoulder. He looks at you, and you risk looking back.

You can’t read that expression. You’re not sure you want to.

“Yeah,” he mutters. His gaze might flick down to your lips, but you don’t trust your own mind anymore. “You wanna try it with me? I head to that gym in the basement every night. It ain’t bad.”

And you should say no, but you can’t help it. You nod, and Bucky’s lips twitch, and God, what you won’t do just so he smiles.

You will torture yourself, apparently. Bucky’s too hot to be allowed in a gym. Wearing a tank top that shows off his massive arms, smiling at you all lazy, in the way that’s more of a guard than the slip that you always crave, but a smile all the same.

First, you try walking on the treadmill and just watching him the mirror. He’s lifting weights, and his arms, they should be classified as weapons. You want those biceps keeping you in a head lock, against his chest or at his side. Keeping you still, while his cock pounds relentlessly into your pussy.

Bucky meets your gaze in the mirror. His lips twitch, and you look away, face burning.

You feel him, more than you see him coming over. The gravity of his presence, you think you’d be able to feel him blindfolded and dropped in a crowd of a million people.

“Come on,” he offers you a hand. “Lemme show you something.”

And you can’t say no to him. You really should learn how.

Because the something is training. Wrestling. Throwing fucking punches and trying to get the other down.

“Bucky, I can’t-“

“Yeah, you can.” He raises his fists, nodding to your own. “Up, doll.”

You sigh, raising them slowly. “You’re going to kick my ass-“

“I am. And then you’re going to get better.”

You scoff—he’s ridiculous—but listen. Bucky smirks, and lunges. You yelp and try to scramble away, but he’s too fast. You’re pinned under him in seconds, whacking at his arms and wiggling.

“Bucky- Get off-“

He laughs, standing up with a proud grin. You’ve never seen him so relaxed, so confident. It makes you hornier than you ever could’ve imagined.

He’d been over you. Everywhere over you. Pinning you down and manhandling you, and- Oh God-‘

“Up,” he beckons, and you swallow.

“I- I don’t know-“

“Yeah, you do.” He gives you a playful smile. “Get up.”

You sigh, and scramble to your feet. Bucky raises his fists again. You narrow your eyes, and match.

He chuckles. “Getting competitive?”

You shrug. “You wanted me to.”

Something flashes in his eyes. You’re not sure how to read into it.

“Damn right I do,” his voice is lower. You’re not imagining that.

You don’t get time to think about it, before he’s moving again. You hold your own exactly a second longer than before, but it ends the exact same way. You, pinned under Bucky’s broad, strong body. His face is pressed near your breasts, his fingers digging into your hips, his legs shoving yours apart to stop you from flailing around.

It goes on longer than it shoulder. This strange game that you like playing more than you should. Bucky starts trying to properly get you to throw a punch, but he gives up fast. Soon you’re more play wrestling than doing anything else. You’re giggly and dazed, charging at him like a bull, and he acts as bored and collected as always, but you can see the amusement dancing in his eyes, every time you try to climb him like a tree.

Then something shifts.

He gets you beneath him, and you try to shove at his chest. He catches your wrists and pins them up over your head. Your breath hitches, and he blinks. His hips drop against yours, and you can feel it. The bulge of his cock, pressing into your core.

He’s hard.

Not fully, but enough. Enough that you can imagine every ridged and curve of him, sliding between the puffy lips of your pussy. Your thighs clench, and Bucky grunts, rutting forward.

You both freeze, and your eyes lock. It’s one of those seconds, where you just stare hopelessly at each other. You almost apologize, but your tongue is limp. Bucky’s face is redder than you’ve ever seen it. His cock twitches in his pants.

And this isn’t a dream or fantasy. Bucky mutters your name, and it’s so real you think your heart might pound of your chest.

Bucky moves first. He clears his throat and moves to his feet.

“Better.” He offers you a hand. “That was…”

He trails off. You stare at each other, lost for words.

Bucky turns, and leaves without another word. You sway in the center of the room, breathing shallow, head spinning.

What the fuck just happened.

Bucky kisses up your spine, his mouth hot and possessive. His tongue flicks against your neck, and his fingers dig into your hips. He drags your ass up in the air and you mewl, pressing your face into the sheets.

“Ah,” he scolds, slapping your soaked, swollen pussy. “Lemme hear you, doll.”

You turn your head, moaning loud and shamelessly. Bucky chuckles, kissing a soft spot on your neck.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, notching his cock against your entrance. “Good girl.”

You coo like a baby bird, flushed and dazed. He’s big, so big that it almost hurts. He doubles over you with a groan, pressing his face into your shoulder as he slowly pushes every inch inside of you. The stretch burns in the best way, and you clench down around him.

Bucky hisses, hips jerking forward. “Careful,” he grunts. “Gonna strangle me.”

“S- Sorry-“

“No,” Bucky leans down, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Nothin’ to apologize for. Just gotta relax, babydoll. Lemme do the rest.”

You hum, and take a deep breath. You’re grounded, in the feeling of Bucky everywhere. His warmer arm wraps around your neck, forcing you up enough for his lips to trail open kisses over your face.  

“That’s my girl,” he mutters against your ear, bottoming fully out. “That’s it. Just take it for me, just like that.”

You mewl, pushing your ass back up, then crying out with delight as Bucky pulls out, and slams back in. He’s met with no resistance, from how your pussy is gushing out with every thrust, every touch, every hot kiss.

But there’s nothing else to be expected. Not with how Bucky’s using you, how worshipful his every touch and kiss is, all while he fucks into you so hard you think the bed is going to break. His breath is hot on your back, the head of his cock drill against that one, gooey spot deep inside you. His cold arm locks around your middle, and his fingers tease and graze over your clit. Rubbing in tight little circles, making your eyes roll back in your head.

Bucky grunts, hauling you up so you’re pressed against his chest. You’re pinned down on his cock now, wet and warm and tight. So fucking tight that it pulls a low, rumbling moan from his chest. His hips slam up in a barely controlled rhythm, chasing more of your heat. You’re limp in his arms. Dazed and smiling like you’re drunk. Bucky uses his arm around your neck to push your head further back, and you have the nerve to fucking giggle.

You’re so beautiful like this that he almost cums right there. Fluttering lashes and the sweetest sounds, you pussy milking him like a machine. He kisses you because he can’t help it, and you hum happily, grinding your ass down into him.

He needs you to cum first. He gropes at your clit, letting his fingers fumble for a second to work you up into a teased, messy frenzy, before he pushes down and rubs in a steady, unyielding rhythm. You cry out his name, squeezing down so hard on his cock, and Bucky buries his face in your neck.

He cums, so hard that his vision goes white. Thick ropes of cum spurt over his hand, squeezing hard at the base of his cock.

It’s not as warm as you’d be, he thinks.

And he thinks. All the time, Bucky just thinks about you. About how you’d feel, molding around him. About how you’d sound right in his ear, how you’d get smiley and drool, and he’s feed you his fingers just so you have something to do with that pretty mouth. You’d moan around them, and he’d thrust up into you so hard he’d knock the damn worries out of your head.

It’s his favorite time of the day, this. Your rooms are closer than you seem to think, or you just forget how good his hearing is.

And every night, right before bed, he gets to settle into the mattress and beat his cock into his hand, listening to you moan and call his name. He’d never tell you. You deserve better, than a broken robot like him. He counts himself lucky he even gets to be your friend, because he’s a man well practiced at restraint. At not getting what he wants.

But this space, where no one can see, he allows himself things. He allows himself you.

But only ever in his head.

✦End note: this might be one of my fave bucky fics i just got to be soooo horny with it✦

✦If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3✦

✦Buy me a coffee!☕️ (and get early access!)✦

You reach up, fingers brushing the chain at his neck. “Leave them,” you breathe, because the sound is filthy in its own way, the soft metallic music of him claiming you.

But Bucky’s eyes, stormy blue, pupils blown wide with lust darken further. He leans down, mouth brushing your ear, breath hot. “They’re distracting you from what I want you feeling.”

In one smooth motion, he catches the tags between his teeth. The chain pulls taut against the back of his neck, the metal plates disappearing into his mouth. His jaw flexes, lips parting just enough for you to see the silver edge glinting against his tongue. The sight alone rips a fresh wave of heat through you, Bucky, the Winter Soldier, reduced to biting down on his own history just so he can fuck you without anything getting in the way.

He groans around the tags, the sound muffled and raw. Then he drives into you harder.

No more clinking. Just the wet slap of skin on skin, the creak of the bedframe, and the obscene sounds of your body taking him. His metal fingers dig into your hip, cool and unyielding, while his flesh hand slides up to cup your jaw, thumb pressing at the corner of your mouth like he wants to feel how wrecked you are.

“Look at me,” he demands around the metal. His voice is distorted, rougher, sex-drenched. Sweat beads at his temple, dark hair falling into his eyes as he fucks you with punishing precision, long strokes that bottom out and grind against that spot that makes stars burst behind your eyelids. Every time he bottoms out, his abs flex against your clit, and the tags shift between his teeth with the motion, a constant, visible reminder of how much control he’s exerting just for you.

You moan his name and he bites down harder, jaw tight, eyes locked on yours like he’s memorizing every gasp, every flutter of your cunt around his cock. The chain trembles against his throat with each thrust. You can see the way his tongue moves against the tags inside his mouth, the way his lips are shiny with spit, and it’s so fucking filthy you clench around him involuntarily.

“That’s it,” he growls through clenched teeth, the words barely intelligible but vibrating straight down to your core. “Milk me, doll. Let me feel how much you love this.”

Your hands scramble up his back, nails digging into scarred skin and metal plating alike. He’s relentless, hips snapping faster now, the wet sounds louder, your slick coating his balls as they slap against you. The dog tags stay right where he put them, trapped between those perfect teeth, catching the light every time he pulls back to look at where you’re stretched around him.

You’re close. So fucking close. And Bucky knows it, he always does. He drops his forehead to yours, tags still clenched tight, breath coming in hot pants around the metal. His voice is a broken rasp:

“Come on my cock while I’ve got these between my teeth, baby. Want to feel you fall apart knowing I’d do anything- anything- to keep fucking you right.”

The orgasm slams into you like lightning under your skin, sudden, devastating, unstoppable. Your back arches sharply off the mattress, a broken cry tearing from your throat as your pussy clamps down hard around his thick cock, fluttering and pulsing in relentless waves. Pleasure rips through every nerve ending, white-hot and overwhelming, leaving you shaking uncontrollably beneath him.

Bucky doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even falter. He keeps fucking you through it with those deep, grinding thrusts, hips rolling relentlessly as he chases his own release, dragging out your climax until you’re a whimpering, sobbing mess beneath him.

Only then does he let the tags fall from his mouth, spit-slick and gleaming, dropping heavy and cool against your heaving chest. He buries his face in your neck, groaning your name like a prayer as he spills deep inside you, hips stuttering, metal arm braced beside your head so he doesn’t crush you.

For a long moment, there’s just the sound of your ragged breathing and the faint, final clink of the dog tags settling between your sweat-slick bodies.

Bucky kisses the side of your throat, soft and reverent now, his lips brushing tenderly over the spot where his teeth had been clenched moments before.

“Next time,” he murmurs, voice hoarse, “I’m putting them between your teeth. See how quiet you can stay while I ruin you.”

You laugh breathlessly, already aching for it.

— yours truly, ѕℓυtdιεr.

You pop your lips off his swollen nipples and halt your sucking for a moment just to look up at his teary-eyed face, admiring the pout he’s got on. “Zuko…” You purr with a slightly raised brow.

He angles his head back down to meet eyes with you, batting those dark pretty lashes at you as if he'd done nothing wrong, “Yes, love?”

“Are you burning through those ropes again?” You ask.

The fire lord shakes his head, “N-No..?”

“Then…" Your gaze narrows at him skeptically, "What’s that smell?”

Before he gathers his thoughts enough to answer you properly, you turn your head to see one of your nightstands on fire.

Damnit. That’s the third one this week!

Luckily enough for the both of you, the flame isn't as large as it'd been previously. Though, as you let your hand halt in jerking your lover off and try to pull away for a moment to go put the fire out, there's a stronger scent of fumes flying into your nose.

This time it's the smell of burning rope.

Followed by which is the sound of something snapping and suddenly—there's a pair of grabby hands meeting your arms and your body is being pushed right over.

A flutter of royal-red and gold fabrics scatter around your frame and drape your sides whilst your attention is redirected upwards. Panting above you is your needy husband Zuko, who's got his brows furrowed slightly and his eyes pleading as they land down on you, "Ignore it," He suggests.

You flash a confused look at him and then playfully swat at his chest, "I can't just ignore it, that's the third one this week!"

He shyly glances off to the side before muttering, "...So?"

"What do you mean so?" You scoff, "We'll have to rebuild the entire bedroom suite at this rate!"

His eyes find yours again and you feel his body coming closer to yours, flinching at the wet swipe of his drooling cockhead over your inner thigh as he adjusts himself. "You're the one who insisted on teasing me."

"You asked me to." You remind him.

"Well,” He frowns a little, “When I told you to use me, I was hoping..."

Your hands reach up to cup his face and pull him down impossibly closer—the warmth of his body enveloping you further. "Hoping what, my lord?" You whisper.

He shoots you a short-lived glare, "What'd I tell you about that?" You give him a cheeky smile and he rolls his eyes at it. "I was hoping you'd use me in here," To add emphasis to his words, his cock comes pressing against the soppy wet-spot in your panties.

"Zuko!" You gasp in surprise, earning a sleazy little smile from him.

Then comes a quick finger to swat that measly fabric out the way, his tip rushing to kiss the saturated lips of your cunt and smear the apart for entry.

Just before he can push into you, "Wait," You huff, "When and how did you break free?"

"Hm?” Zuko raises a brow, “Free of what?" He hums innocently.

Your expression is entirely unconvinced of his innocent act. Deadpanning, "You burned the ropes again, didn't you?"

Another smile paints into his perfect features before he grinds his hips down into yours, throbbing cock sliding ever-so-gracefully into you as if to distract you. Zuko leans down to your ear to whisper, "What ropes?" and you hear some sort of flame crackling in the distance.

He definitely just set something else on fire just from pushing himself into you, but it’s not like he gave you much room to care. Not with the way his dick felt easing your walls open and stretching you out in the same fashion you’d beg him to nearly every other night—if not every single night.

Surely the fire nation would be expecting an heir to the throne any day now. Though, you’re not sure this heir would come about with your bedroom in one piece…

Especially since Zuko has a bad habit of burning things when he cums.

(not proofread btw) || banner art by Rororogi Mogera || tags:

@stardewplz @muddiedlove @rain-market @mayashoee @kayxox123 @yoshinorecommends @whimsynojai @blcknebula @sukubusss @iiakithegoat 

@1ana22 @miss-f0rtun3 @helloxkittylo @p-plenitude @bunbun812 @cuffiescariche @ily24 @neoroneo88 @taemfvante @gracewinston

@shesthemanluver @kayxox123

first time writing outside the jjk fandom in years, if it's bad i'll just jump off a cliff sorry! <3

Snotlout

Oh he's in it for the love of the game

You couldn't tear him away from you even if you tried

Messy and inexperienced at first but boy is he confident!

He's trainable so that's the good news

Reallyyyy likes eating it while you're sitting down on a chair or something with him in between his legs, using his shoulders as leg rests

He can really get to work that way

Looks up for approval every now and then but mainly keeps his eyes focused between your legs

He wants to make sure he's doing everything perfectly for you so he is locked in

Will eat it night and day, breakfast, lunch, dinner, anytime, anywhere

Y'know that video of the guy that's like “wake up, eat it. go to work. come home from lunch. eat it. go back to work. leave work again just to eat it.”

That's Snotlout

Will beg for it

“Babe, I'm just saying - why wouldn't you want your super hot and talented boyfriend to eat you out right now?”

“Do we really have to show up to training on time? I can make it fast, I promise! They won't even realize we're late.”

Fishlegs

Fantasized about it for sure but never realized how sensual and intimate it was until he tried it

Soooo shy about it

You will have to talk him through it and give him directions

He wants it to be good for you but he's never done this before so the pressure is on

After getting used to it, he turns out to be pretty gentle and very attentive

Pays attention to your face and your body

Observes how your eyebrows furrow, your leg twitches, your stomach contracts - all of that

Uses that information to guide his next moves and drive you closer and closer to the edge

Not a certified eater like Snotlout but most certainly a certified pussy enjoyer

Loves making you feel adored and worshipped yk

Wants you to cum every single time and if you don't he will be very disappointed in himself

“No, it's not okay! I'm supposed to make you feel good. Just, show me what to do!"

Poor boy takes it personally even if you're just having a mental block day

He'll eventually understand not to take it too hard on himself

Wakes up craving it but he gets too shy asking for it

It's so obvious though

You'll just have to straight up ask him to go down on you

He will go so red but he definitely won't deny your request

"O-Oh, you mean right now? Well, I mean, sure, of course!"

Plays it cool but you can tell he wants it bad

Astrid

Knows what you like even before she tries it

Somehow naturally gifted at it

Service top vibes for sure

The first time she tries it she keeps asking you “is this okay?”

Will absolutely talk about how good you taste and will talk you through it in general

“Tell me how it feels, babe. How does my tongue feel on you?”

“So sweet and all for me. All mine, isn’t that right?”

Absolutely throws in a “Didn’t know you could get more beautiful” after you cum

Unless you ask her to she likes to keep things like this in a private setting

But very rarely she gets the urge to just push you up against a tree and get on her knees to taste you

It's rare though

Besides she can just make you wait until you both get back to her hut and spend all that time teasing you

Loves the build-up to it for sure

Like i mentioned earlier she’s nervous the first few times because she doesn’t want to give bad head

But after experimenting and seeing how you react to different things she has a game plan every time she goes down on you

Is a yearner in her own way and shows that though her lips and tongue

The type of head that leaves you breathless, sweaty, legs shaking, face flushed, and gripping onto her

I don’t think she has a preferred position

Whatever is most convenient or comfortable for you works for her

Tuffnut

Another trainable guy

Jokes about you letting him eat it but never expects you to actually let him

The moment you let him he's like “Wait, really? Like, really really? You'd let me?”

I don't know if i see him being super enthusiastic about it at first

He's mainly just trying to hype himself up because his jokes were all bite and no bark

He has no idea what he's doing

Will absolutely ask you questions during it

“Am I doing it right?” “So…I can put my tongue inside, too?”

Such a curious man

He would totally ask some of the other dragon riders for tips on giving head

He'll slowly start getting the hang of it after a little bit

As soon as you grab his hair to help guide him through it is the moment he starts seeing the appeal of it

He's in it for the taste and the being controlled by his girlfriend part

Will drop hints that he wants to eat it at the most inconvenient times

“So like, I was thinking after we finish this raid we could hang out at your hut, maybe show me some new moves or something?”

All the while you're in the middle of fighting off two hunters

The type of guy to literally eat it whenever and wherever

Will literally eat it behind a bush in the forest

Not even for the thrill of getting caught

He's just impatient like that

Ruffnut

Similar to tuffnut but definitely has more of an idea of what to do

I think she’d actually be kinda shy about it

To the point where you’d have to have one hand on her head guiding her while you tell her what to do and what feels nice

I think the first few times she might get frustrated since she’s not getting it

But she’s not a quitter

All she needed was a moment to regroup (and ask Astrid or one of the other dragon riders for some tips)

And boy does she come back swinging

She takes it slow and steady but confident

Still doesn’t quite know where to put her hands so she wraps them around your thighs

I think she’d have some wandering hands

She would melt if you pull her hair to guide her

After gaining some confidence, I think she would love having you sit on her face

I don’t think she’s super talkative but would occasionally throw in some comments when you pull her hair

“S-Shit, you love playing dirty, don’t you?”

If anything, I think she’d be the one responding to your dirty talk

“Fuck, Ruff. You always get me so wet and messy.” “Believe me, babe. I can taste it.”

All the while her mouth and chin are covered with your wetness

Hiccup

Again, another trainable man

Comparable to how Fishlegs is but with a tad more confidence

Will actually ask to try it instead of you bringing it up (points for initiative)

Wants it to be absolutely perfect but spoiler alert it isn't

No natural talent so he's kinda just fumbling around trying to figure out what to do

He'll be a bit stubborn at first and won't accept guidance but after some insistence he'll let you guide him

Alittle upset that he can't figure your body out himself

But puts his pride aside so he can make you feel good

He aims to make you cum every single time and is pretty good at doing so

Mentally keeps track of how many times he's made you cum and what you respond to most

Prefers eating it in his or your bed, classic style yk

On your back with him between your legs, maybe one hand holding your leg up

Not very sexually adventurous so he'll keep it limited to somewhere private and romantic

Maybe by a lake under the moonlight if he's feeling extra romantic and adventurous

I think he's a little talkative but not excessively so

He doesn't like to talk with his mouth full, yk?

But he also does want to tell you how amazing you taste, how beautiful you look - the whole works

"You're so gorgeous like this. Oh baby, I would keep you like this for hours if I could."

"You just taste too good. Can't get enough of you, never can."

I think he'd overstimulate you a little bit but nothing crazy

He'd like to see you squirm and jump at the feeling but wouldn't go much further (unless you asked)

Dagur

He and Snotlout are tied for the top eater in httyd

Both embody the “wake up. eat it.” dude

The difference between them is that Dagur has natural skill

He is naturally talented with that tongue of his and those fingers

Seesaws between nice soft dom and a teasing little jackass who somehow still has you melting in his arms

Will absolutely tell you to “cum for daddy” even if you don't have a daddy kink

Force of habit yk?

Likes being on his knees while he's eating it

You could be leaning against a tree with him in between your legs or on the edge of a bed with him between your legs

Encourages you to grab onto his hair

Intense eye contact that only mildly reminds you that he's slightly mentally unstable

Talks you through it every single time

If you guys are just chilling and he gets the urge, he'll definitely beg to eat it

But most of the time he just gives you a certain look

And you know what that look means

“Well, we have the next hour to spare. Whaddya say we go somewhere, just the two of us, so I can show you something special I learned with my tongue, hm?”

All while he's kissing your hand and up your arm

Eager to reach deeper and deeper inside of you his claws grip your plush thighs and hike them up over his shoulders, opening you up so he can start picking up pace.

Your pussy opens up like a flower and you can feel him stretching out your walls, molding them to shape of his dick. Never letting you forget just who owns your sweet heat now and who gets you feeling like this.

It answers to his every stroke, responding to his every moment as he stimulates your nerves and drives you almost as wild as him with lust. The sensation has him keeling over, his snout nuzzling into the curve of your neck. Burying himself in your warmth in any way he can. Needing to get closer, to feel more of you.

That’s when a wicked idea pierces his mind. Drool pools in his mouth and his fangs ache to finally sink inside your throat. There’s no closer way he could get than that. But would it be enough? No, nothing could ever be enough when you feel this perfect.

Almost as if you can read his mind you whimper, hips jerking up weakly after he’s pounded you into a puddle of mush on the bed. Then you bare your neck to him in submission like you were begging for more, begging for everything. He wants to give it to you, everything you ask.

Yet seeing how needy you are for it has his playful instincts flaring to life. A small smirk creeps up on his face and his thrusts even begin to slow. You immediately whine in protest, your arms too weak to do anything but grip and yank at the sheets. Babbles of complaints fall past your lips that he cant help but chuckle at.

“Not… yet,” he says breathlessly, forcing the words out no matter how much they pain him to say.

When you’ve both calmed down a few hours later he does get a very stern scolding from you about teasing and playing games. You get the strange feeling he’s not really listening and instead just staring at you with amusement and stars in his eyes.

His love of you or of driving you to the brink of insanity (in more way than one) so clear that it just makes you fume with anger, on the verge of a full blown explosion.

You’ll get him back. In some way. Deciding now that it’s the only way. You will. No matter what you have to do you’ll give him a taste of his own medicine. This time it’ll be your turn to tease and edge him. Then maybe he’ll finally start taking you and your wants seriously. Patience was a term you’ve long since forgotten and you’re ready to play ball now.

And you had just the plan to do it.

It was a fool proof plan honestly. Luring Werewolf Bf in under the guise of having a little smutty surprise for him. Something he was always up for. But what he didn’t expect was for you to suddenly pounce on him and wrangle him onto the bed. Slipping a few werewolf certified chains around his wrists and ankles to tie him to the bed.

At least the shocked look on his face had given you enough of that impression. Then it was finally your moment. The ultimate payback. Giving him exactly what he’s deserved.

You use him. In the most primal of senses. Probably in a way your bf would’ve respected in other situation.

Riding his cock you bring yourself to orgasm after orgasm, demanding he count every one that he ever denied you. After a bit of resistance he did. Yet you could see his expression grow darker, more feral, with each number that slipped past his lips.

Though you were far too busy to notice. Even if you did you don’t think you’d care. Far too drunk off his dick to think about the future consequences of your actions. Every inch of your body was buzzing with explosive pleasure. Mind nothing but a sweet fog that pulsed waves of sensation throughout your form.

As if you could ground yourself in him. The scratching of your nails down his chest as he thrashed and snarled beneath you, demanding back control did nothing but turn you on and drive you to ride him harder. All while denying him his own release like he had yours.

“Babygirl… that’s enough,” he growled, yanking against the chains. His eyes flashed as you merely giggled. “Let me go right now and I promise I won’t go hard on you. Much.”

But you were so so close. That specific heat that burned within you lit up, signaling your release. Just one more and then you’ll have mercy.

So instead of slowing down, of stopping entirely, you sped up. Your boyfriend snapped his jaws at you, basically foaming at the mouth. His claws dug into the chains, having been working them over as hard as he’s worked you this whole time. As close to breaking them as you are to cum.

“You have until the count of three. Then all bets are off f’you,” he warned in a low rumble, eyeing dangerously the place where your bodies meet with each wet plap, plap, plap.

You sped up a little more, determined to cum on his cock again. The low ‘one… two… thre—‘ only made you more desperate. But before you knew it he was saying the final number and the snapping of chains overwhelmed the moans that left you.

For a moment the both of you just paused. Then a slow smirk spread across his lips.

“Run.”

Your body moved before your brain could even catch up to what was going on. You scrambled off of him and started running, maybe for your life. This was a game and you knew he’d catch you and really give it to you now. But it also sent shocks down your arms and fueled you to go faster, to play into it. Making him go a little more crazy than he already was.

Of course you didn’t get very far. You were only a human while he was a whole werewolf. You only got out to the backyard when you felt it. The feeling of his claws pricking at your shoulders a moment before you both tumbled down.

Werewolf bf caught your fall and the two of you rolled through the grass. Your screams echoed through the night as you felt his cock slide back into your wet cunt with ease. It was so dark out you could see anything.

So all you could do was feel every drag of his throbbing cock along your walls. The way he stretches you and grinds his length in as deep as he can go. The friction explosive and undeniably euphoric.

“You just had to play around, didn’t you? Mess up all my plans, make me desperate,” he snarls and you jolt at the sudden sound of his voice.

But his claws dig into your plush waist, marking you and slamming you back down his cock as if you’re trying to escape.

“You’re finally gonna get everything you want, baby,” he purrs right in your ear, bringing back that knot in your belly so close to bursting.

It only took a few more thrusts to throw you over that peak. When you felt his knot poke and nudge at your entrance it completely undid you. With a roar he slams it in just as you climax around him, your cries heard probably throughout the entire neighborhood. Maybe the whole city at the way you scream and buck into the grinding of his dick and knot.

Werewolf Bf works you through it, holding out for as long as he can until he cums right after you. His entire frame covers yours and at the moment his knot expands, locking you two together as he starts to cum, his teeth sink into your flesh. Marking you as his. Permanently.

The two of you rock into each other like you’ve both gone completely mental. It isn’t until your orgasms have ebbed away and the night air is quiet does a bit of clarity come back to you. The only sounds are your heavy breathing which still manages to stir a little something up inside of you.