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god. i’m just so horny for jason rn idk. just jason with hyperspermia <33
he doesn’t know that much is abnormal. he’s jerked off, he thought it was just that messy and inconvenient for everyone. that’s why he doesn’t do it often, really, and why using something like a fleshlight is such a pain because of the cleanup afterward.
And then. You come into his life, and then you two go a little further, you start to grind and pet and finally he’s really ready to have sex!
He gets condoms. You tell him you’re both clean, you’re on birth control, whatever reason you need to ask to do it raw, but he shakes his head. “It’s gonna be a mess, ma,” He murmurs against your lips. “Don’t wanna make you clean up after all this.”
So you roll the condom onto his length, and he’s shaking. Leaking already, tip red and sensitive.
You straddle his thighs. His tip barely catches on your entrance, and- He cums. He cums, and he keeps coming, and he’s writhing and whimpering as the condom breaks from the sheer volume.
“Fuck, ma, I- I’m so sorry,” He gasps out, red with shame. “I’m such a fucking quickshot with you, you’re just so-“
You cut him off with a hard kiss. He gasps. You toss the stupid latex somewhere you’ll regret later, finally detaching from his mouth and admiring the mess he’d made.
“Fill me up,” You demand, starting to sink down. “Wanna feel it in me, baby, wanna be fucking stuffed.”
Jason’s hips snap upward, a strangled moan ripping from his throat. His hands are so tightly gripping your hips, so hard you’re almost sure it’ll be bruised in the morning, and he thrusts so deep inside that you feel it in your chest.
He cums enough that by the time you’re done, he’s dizzy and whiny, clinging to you as his cock keeps you full of his cum, bloating your stomach just enough to notice. He falls asleep like that, cock warmed by your tight, slick hole, satisfied.
fucking clark kent would involve so much cum it’s honestly unreal he’s too big, too pent-up, and once he’s buried inside he doesn’t know how to stop. he’ll hold you down by the waist, cock pulsing deep, and just spill into you over and over until you’re whining, tits bouncing with every desperate thrust, eyes glazed and rolled back from the stretch. it’s messy, sticky, dripping out of you in thick streams, slicking your thighs and the sheets beneath, and he still groans low like it’s not enough. he pushes back in, stuffing you full all over again, obsessed with the sight of you leaking his cum everywhere while your body shudders around him.
summary | your husband has always been obsessed with you. but he seems extra with all the looks he's been throwing at you feeding your daughter. whatever is on his mind?
word count | 4.2k
warnings | smut, 18+, total kinkfest, MDNI, sub!bucky, lactation kink, mommy kink, unprotected pnv (shoutout to lactational amenorrhea!), usage of nicknames (baby, sweetie, babyboy, sweet boy for him. mommy for you), no use of y/n.
notes | i heard there’s enough smut without plot, so i decided to rectify that problem by writing more smut without plot rubs hands like an evil fly. so, this is basically no plot, just vibes. please do not read if this is not your cup of tea (or milk, see what i did there, ehehe) seriously, this is just so much filth, i kinda went overboard. probably be the filthiest thing that ever came out me. tread carefully. based on this ask. hope you like this, anon!
d/t | @sheriff-bodecker obviously <3
you’re half-dressed and cradling your daughter against your chest. one of your hand cups her perfect little head while the other strokes her back in a steady rhythm.
her soft, wet suckling fills the quiet, punctuated now and then by that tiny sigh she makes when she pauses for air.
you’re tired now. but in that floaty, dazed way that’s oddly peaceful, like your body knows you’ve just made a whole human and is demanding your stillness.
the robe you’re wearing parts a little, when you shift on the bed, exposing the warm skin to the night air. one breast is out, full heavy and leaking, the other still tucked away. your belly is softer than before. your thighs, too. and yet you’ve never felt more powerful than in this moment: feeding someone that grew inside you.
something moves in your peripheral vision, and you don’t have to take another look to know that it’s your husband.
the wedding band glints at his finger, as he stares at you. again. and he’s not being very subtle about it.
he’s leaning in the doorway like he’s forgotten how to move. like someone pressed pause on his brain and he’s just stuck there.
you don’t look at him for a while. you just let him watch. it’s become a quiet game between you lately. he studies you, drinks you in like he thinks you’ll vanish. and you pretend not to notice until the weight of his hunger becomes impossible to ignore.
you clear your throat softly, but your eyes remain on your daughter. “you’re staring again.”
“i know.” there’s no apology in it. it’s just the truth, like it’s just a fact. his gaze slides down your body and drags its way back up, lingering far too long on the breast not currently occupied, albeit it being covered. “i can’t help it.”
you finally glance at him.
he looks like a man with his hands tied. like he’s trying to be respectful, like he’s trying to wait until you give him permission.
but there’s just something wild just beneath his stillness.
you tilt your head, just a little. “what is it, baby?”
you let your eyes drag down his body now. there’s the evidence of barely-there outline of his cock already thickening beneath the fabric of his pants. your eyes find his face again, he’s red in the cheeks, breathing real slow he’s trying to will himself not to get hard watching you feed your child.
you feel the wicked little grin tug at your lips before you can stop it.
“do you want a taste?”
you ask it so damn lightly. like you’re offering him a sip of your latte.
his mouth actually opens a little. but nothing comes out other than air. his arms uncross and his hands hover at his sides like he doesn’t know what to do with them anymore.
“what?” his voice is croaky, like he’s forgotten how to speak entirely, and english sounds more like an inconvenience rather than a language he’s fluent in.
“you’ve been staring for twenty minutes like you want to get on your knees and suck it.”
bucky makes a noise in his throat that’s somewhere between a gasp and a groan. his eyes drop again, then snap back up, like he’s afraid he’ll come just from looking too long.
“you’re—you’re not serious.”
“oh, but i am.”
you shift your daughter slightly, stroking her tiny back as she continues to suck lazily in her sleep-heavy rhythm. “you’ve been walking around this house like a kicked puppy for a month. you’re hard every time i take my robe off. flustered every time i bend over. and don’t think i didn’ notice how long you stood outside the door last night just listening to me pump.”
his lips part again. nothing. just breath, yet again.
“fuck.” he finally manages to drag one word out of his throat.
“you want to taste what your daughter gets, don’t you? you want mommy to feed you, too.” you say the latter like it’s a statement, not a question.
you don’t know what came over you when you uttered that word, what spurred you to actually say it. but the way he reacts tells you he’s into it.
in fact, he’s very much into it because he whimpers. actually whimpers.
“say it. say what you want, baby.” your voice is barely a whisper, excited to see what might come out of his mouth. because not everyday does a six foot super soldier look like the ground has been ripped away from him.
his eyes flutter close like he’s in pain. “i want—fuck. i want to suck your tits, mommy.”
you smile like you’ve won something. hearing him call you that is a different type of arousal, one that you hadn’t felt before, but now embraced it fully. he’s exactly where you want him.
“good boy,” the two words leave you way too easily.
your husband moves without thinking. crawls onto the bed like he doesn’t remember how his knees work. when he’s finally kneeling beside you, his hands hover again, like he’s uncertain.
you’re still feeding your daughter. she’s still latched, little sucks slower now, fading more towards sleep.
bucky, on the other hand, is breathing hard.
“you want to wait until she’s done? or do you want the other one now?” you ask sweetly, like you’re not short-circuiting your husband in real time.
his eyes flick down to your boobs, and then back to you, then down again, as though he’s weighing his options. “now.”
you reach up and tug the robe down off your other shoulder, letting the soft fabric fall completely. you’re bare from the waist up now.
you bring your hand to the full breast he’s been staring at and squeeze just slightly. a thin stream of milk beads at the tip.
a moan rips out of him. and you haven’t even touched him, nor has he touched you. yet.
“open,” your voice is way too soft for an order.
his lips part instantly, like he’s waited enough.
you guide his mouth to your nipple, and he latches as though he’s the one who’s starving. his hands go to your waist, gripping you tight like you might float away. the groan he lets out when he tastes the first trickle of milk is obscene.
there’s no hesitation in the way he suckles, it’s just him, his mouth, his tongue and soft suction.
“good boy,” you whisper again. “drink.”
you stroke his hair, like you’re petting something loyal. you can feel the tension leaking out of him with every suck. and the unmistakable strain of his cock against his sweats now that he makes no effort to hide it.
“that’s it,” you coo. “you missed mommy, didn’t you?”
he nods against your skin, mouth never leaving your breast.
“you’ve been so patient and sweet. helping me every day. putting our daughter down. kissing me goodnight and walking away with your cock hard, haven’t you?”
he pulls off for half a second with a gasp, mouth still wet and swollen with saliva and milk. “i tried to be good.”
you smile and guide him back to your nipple.
“you were. that’s why i’m letting you drink.”
his groan vibrates against your skin and your whole body spikes with heat. you’re soaked between your legs now, your thighs clenching every time he pulls more milk from you.
there’s precum leaking through his pants that you can clearly see now.
your daughter unlatches with a little sigh, drunk on milk and sleep, and you shift carefully to lay her in the bassinet beside the bed.
bucky doesn’t stop sucking. he just follows you, stays latched, hands on your hips like he thinks you’ll take it away if he lets go.
you chuckle breathlessly and run your fingers through his hair. “you’re really needy, huh?”
he just nods.
“you wanna make mommy come first?”
he looks up at you, with stark black eyes and lips impossibly pink.
“please.” he pops off your breast to utter the word and goes right back to it, like that’s where he belongs.
you stroke his hair again, watching his eyes flutter. his tongue moves slower as he sucks you, almost softer now, more worship than hunger. his grip on your hips is tight, like you’re his anchor.
“god, you’re a mess. look at you.” your voice is thick with both affection and arousal.
another groan slips past him as he pulls back slightly, tongue dragging along your nipple as he breathes out. your breast is wet with milk and spit, your nipple flushed and shiny and swollen. he looks up at you like he’s drowning in it.
“i c—can’t think when you say it like that,” he stammers, “you say it and my brain just… shuts off.”
you grin down at him. “good. i don’t need you thinking right now. i just need your mouth.”
you lean back against the headboard, spreading your legs slowly, watching the way his eyes drop and his jaw tightens at the sight of your bare cunt.
you’re soaked. well, no surprise there. you’ve been aching since the second he looked at you like that. since you saw his cock twitch behind the fabric of those old sweatpants.
“you still remember what i like?” you spread yourself for him with two fingers. “it’s been a while.”
bucky exhales like he’s about to cry. “i remember everything, mommy.”
the word, even uttered for the hundredth time today, brings a new wave of arousal between your thighs. “then show me.”
there’s no hesitation inn his movements as he crawls between your legs and settles there.
the first touch of his mouth is soft. his lips part and he exhales hot against your folds before dragging his tongue up in a wet line that makes you moan and buck your hips upwards.
“ohhh, fuck—yes, just like that, baby.”
he groans in response as he licks deeper, the tip of his tongue pressing just enough to tease before flicking against your clit.
he’s slower than he used to be. maybe careful is the word. like he knows your body’s changed and he’s not here to rush it. he’s here to worship every inch of you.
he spreads you with his thumbs and sucks your clit into his mouth slowly, and your hand flies to his hair.
“there’s my good boy—ahh—keep going.”
he moans again, hips rocking down into the mattress like he can’t help it, like he’s trying to grind through the fabric just to relieve some of the pressure.
his tongue slides down to your entrance to tease and circle, and then goes right back up to your clit.
“fuck, bucky, don’t stop—don’t you dare stop—”
he mumbles something into your pussy and it takes you a second to realize he said, “won’t stop, mommy.”
you tug his hair harder. “say it again.”
he obeys you in an instant as he looks up with half lidded eyes, “i won’t stop, mommy.”
your cunt clenches around nothing, and you laugh. maybe it’s a little mean what comes out of you next.
“you’re so fucked out and you haven’t even had your cock touched yet.”
he whines. genuinely whines. he actually rocks his hips down again like he’s going to lose it just from licking you. you decide to test that theory.
“you gonna come in your pants like a good little mommy’s boy?”
he lets out a strangled sound and sucks harder, tongue swirling over your clit until your whole body arches off the bed.
“jesus— yes, baby, right there, don’t stop—”
he’s locked in now, moaning into you and grinding down. very desperate and obedient of him.
you just ride his mouth like you own it. because you do. every inch of him. every twitch of his tongue and clench of his jaw belongs to you.
your orgasm hits like a wave. sudden and earth shattering after the abstinence.
you cry out and pull his face into your cunt, grinding down, letting him drink every last second of it from your body.
a moan tears off him like he’s the one coming.
when it finally passes, you loosen your grip on his hair and stroke his scalp gently. breathing hard, he pulls back slowly. his entire face is wrecked.
“did you…?” you raise your eyebrows in question.
he swallows. “i—almost.”
you glance down and see the wet patch on the front of his pants. cupping his face, you lift his jaw up, “you want to come, sweet boy?”
without waiting for his answer, you push his back towards the headboard. he leans back, sweats still on, cock still straining hard against it, like it aches.
“pull down your sweats, baby,” you order him and he obeys without wasting a second. there’s no thoughts behind his eyes, only desperation.
when his pants are discarded to the floor, you gaze over him. his cock stands proud, a little bent towards his abdomen, smearing precum.
the tip is flushed, a delicious shade of pink, begging to be tasted. but you have other plans for him.
you slide up higher to where he is, bracketing his thighs with yours.
he watches the whole thing like he’s watching the moon rise. his hands come up automatically, gripping your hips, trying to hold you steady.
your swollen, aching cunt is hovering over his dick. when you cannot support your body so much, you feel yourself sitting over him, more like, right over his dick.
a hiss leaves his lips as your pussy makes contact with his cock. but he makes no effort to move you, only supporting you by your hips.
“mommy, please i need to be inside you,” his voice is a wreck when it does come out.
you thoroughly ignore his request, as you drag your cunt over his cock once. he whimpers like it actually hurt him, and your hand flies to his cheek.
“are you okay, baby?”
“no—aah, fuck, mommy, i’m gonna cum if you keep—keep doing that.”
you trail your fingers up his abdomen, smearing a bit of cum as you go. his abs clench under your touch. you’re not even trying to be cruel, but the effect is devastating.
the flesh arm leaves your hip to find your tit, and he brings it to his mouth. even wrecked, he needs to be drinking.
you lean forward a bit, making it easy for him to nurse. carding your fingers through his hair, you pull him towards you, and he comes to you without hesitation.
he squirms a little under your touch, and you pull back to see his lips glistening.
“what is it, baby boy?”
“ah—fuck, mommy, it hurts! please— please do somethin’,” his voice is hoarse, and you grind down on him, maybe just to torture him a little more, thus pulling a whimper out of him.
he buries his face in your neck and mumbles, “please, mommy.”
you think he might cry if you keep this up.
“aw, you’re so needy, baby,” you coo and run your hands through his hair. a whine leaves him as he nuzzles closer to you.
you sit back up slowly, watching the way his eyes track your every movement. you reach for his cock and wrap your hands around the base, gently, so gently, that touch equals torture.
he lets out a soft, broken sound in the back of his throat.
“you’re so full, baby,” you marvel at your husband.
you stroke him slowly, barely moving your wrist. the pressure is feather-light, more tease than anything. the tip of his cock is angry-red, veins flushed up along the shaft, pulsing under your hand.
his hips twitch, like he’s trying not to fuck into your fist.
“i’ll come if you do that, mommy, aaah, please.”
“i thought you wanted to cum, sweetie.” your eyes flick up to his face. he’s flushed from the neck to his ears. his head tips back into the headboard, so much so you think it might hurt, but then you remember he’s a super soldier and that he can probably take it.
“i do—i do, i just— i wan’ to cum in you, mommy.”
“you poor thing,” you stroke him slow and steady now, your palm gliding over the slick head with every pass. “did i let it build too long? should i have let you cum sooner?”
“please please let me inside you—nnngh—please mommy.” he’s trembling now. his whole body is reacting, like you’ve bypassed his brain and gone straight to the part of him that just feels.
deciding that you’ve tortured him quite enough, you lift yourself from his thighs and let your cunt hover right over his cock.
his hands grip your hips, in an attempt to push you down, but you hold yourself together as you slide his cock up and down your pussy until it catches your entrance, earning another groan from him.
a broken sigh emerges from him when you finally lower yourself fully on his cock, and you’re seated snug on his lap.
his head slumps towards your body as you start slowly grinding on top of him.
greediness engulfs him as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, his tongue working circles over it until his lips wrap around it fully, followed by which there’s a soft suckle.
the dual assault on your body is too much, especially since this is the first time you’ve welcomed him inside you after delivering your babygirl.
like he’s read your mind, his metal arm grips your hip tighter, while his flesh arm snakes down between your legs to find your swollen clit.
the sensation of him rubbing slow circles on your aching nub is almost too much, and you feel yourself slipping away, falling into another mind blowing orgasm.
all while, he hasn’t taken his mouth off you, drinking languidly. you feel his cock twitch inside you, and your walls clamp down on him, both of you reaching the sweet release at the same time.
the milk let down increases when his latch doesn’t waver, but only strengthens as he spills hot cum inside you.
breathing grows heavy on both sides, until you cannot do anything. not even move. wrapped up in one another, like there’s no possibility of space between you.
he lifts his face from you, and that’s when you catch sight of him. utterly gone. milk and spit and the remnants of your cum adorn his face, lips flushed pink, and irises completely eclipsing his pupils.
you lean down and kiss him, tongue slipping into his mouth with lazy ease.
“you’re okay, baby,” you whisper. “you did so good.”
he doesn’t even speak. something like a groan comes out of him and you nuzzle against his cheek, still smiling.
“i love you,” he whispers, looking down at your chest, eyes dragging over the shiny, slick skin of your breasts. “you’re still leaking. fuck. mommy, you look edible.”
edible isn’t a word you’d use to describe yourself, but whatever floats his boat. you roll your eyes at him, but your thighs clench.
“wanna suck it again,” he mutters, dragging his thumb across the side of your breast. “lick it up and swallow every drop. god, you taste so good—so warm—”
you press your hand flat against his stomach. “you’re literally trembling.”
“i know.” he laughs breathlessly. “my legs don’t work. my balls are empty. my brain is gone. i’m just a mouth now. just a mouth and a cock actually.”
you snort into his skin.
“god, you’re disgusting,” you whisper, but there’s no heat to it, you punctuate the sentence by placing wet kisses to his collarbone.
he turns his face toward you, brushing his nose against your temple. “i mean it. the second you said i could have a taste—fuck, something in me just broke.”
you could feel his cock slightly harden in you by the second, and he looks at you like he’s just realised that too. but he also knows you don’t have enough in your body to give him another orgasm.
you try to nuzzle close to him, try to grind down on him despite being wrung out, but he gently lifts you off him and you both silently hiss.
"can we just lie down?" to which you reply with a kiss to his lips. he takes that answer eagerly and curls into your side.
he's half on top of you now, one arm slung across your waist like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go. his face is pressed against your chest, lips brushing the swell of your breast.
the stillness doesn't last longer as he twitches every now and then, little aftershocks still rippling through him.
you think he’s drifting. until he shifts slightly and murmurs, voice barely above a whisper, “can i…?”
you glance down. he’s looking at you with that dazed expression again. completely blissed out and somehow still wanting. he nuzzles your breast, dragging his mouth lazily over your skin, and repeats it, "mommy… can i just… can i nurse again?”
you smile and kiss the top of his head. “of course, baby.”
shifting slightly, you guide him to the soft weight of your breast, your nipple already stiffening at the feel of his breath. he’s gentle, so damn gentle it almost breaks something in you.
he opens his mouth slowly, presses his lips to you, and latches without a word.
you realise there's no hunger or desperation this time, like earlier when he was moaning and grinding and trying not to come.
this is something else. this is soft. and soothing. and soft.
his tongue drags lazy circles around your nipple. he sucks lightly, rhythmically and his cheek is pressed to the curve of your breast like it’s the only place he ever wants to live.
you wrap your arm around his head, fingers sinking into his hair, just to hold him closer.
you feel the letdown and the warm ache. the subtle sting that comes just before the release.
but you just watch him without a word.
he moans softly, the sound vibrating against your chest.
“tastes so good,” he murmurs, voice muffled. “so fucking warm. feels like you’re feeding me straight from your heart.”
quiet laughter ripples through you. “i might be.”
he sucks again, deeper now, lips sealed around your nipple, his tongue moving with slow precision like he never wants to stop. your other hand finds the back of his neck, rubbing gentle circles there, keeping him grounded. keeping him yours.
“i love this. i’d live here if you let me.”
you smile and tilt your head to kiss his forehead. “you already do.”
his hand slides over your belly, stroking the soft skin, fingers tracing the stretch of you, the weight you still carry.
“i love this body,” he whispers. “you made me everything in it. you feed me from it. you fucking break me with it.”
a slow exhale leaves you, and he just keeps nursing.
you can feel his cock— not hard, but not soft either —resting against your thigh. it twitches every now and then like it’s remembering earlier. like it’s responding just to the taste of you in his mouth.
he shifts a little, pulling your breast deeper into his mouth, moaning as he suckles like he’s trying to coax every last drop from you.
his tongue flicks gently, then presses firm. you can feel the tug low in your belly. your nipple aches, your core pulses, but you stay still and let him take what he wants.
let him keep drinking.
“am i gonna get addicted to this?” he mumbles around your skin.
“you already are, baby.”
“i don’t wanna stop.”
“you don’t have to.”
you look down again. he looks so peaceful. so full of want and contentment at the same time. he shifts his legs a little, then presses closer, curling into you like he’s trying to melt into your skin.
you whisper into his hair, “you want to switch sides, baby?”
he hums. “mmhm.”
you gently ease him off your breast. his lips make a soft, wet pop as he pulls away, and he actually whines. his tongue darts out to lick the corner of his mouth, already chasing the taste again.
you guide his head to the other side, lift your arm so he can tuck beneath it, and he latches just as eagerly as the first time. maybe even more.
this nipple’s still wet from earlier, still sensitive, and the moment his tongue touches it, you shiver.
he groans.
“god, mommy,” he mumbles. “still leaking.”
you run your fingers through his hair, stroke the curve of his jaw.
he keeps sucking. messy now. even drooling a little. he's moaning like it gets better the longer he stays latched. and it might.
you’re not sure where the pleasure ends and the intimacy begins anymore. it’s all blended together—this soft, sticky need that just keeps pulsing between you.
your thighs are slick again. you don't have to voice it out for him to know that.
he pulls off suddenly, just for a second, eyes dazed as he looks up at you. his lips are swollen, and you feel him shaking.
"i love you so much," it's a statement, that holds more love than it could ever express.
"i love you too, baby," you caress his hair and pull him closer to you.
a smile spreads on his lips and he kisses the side of your breast. then latches again, eyes fluttering shut. and drinks.
my masterlist .ᐟ
extras | aight i’ve been summoned to hell. i’ll see myself out. i genuinely forgot that the baby existed, so if we can collectively imagine it’s in the next room fast asleep, that would be terrific! taglist | @devililithh @buckyfmd @sheriff-bodecker @houseofhyde @umbreoni @bckyslover @kqtholins @54nboo @amoremarveloustime @barnesandashes @colettebarnes @barnes-babydoll @miraclediviner @of-sanguine-eyes @flockoff-featherface @biaswreckedbybuckybarnes @manly-man-whore @indigo123789 @wasa-bby @biggestfangirl @herejustforbuckybarnes @buckysbunnny @highhopes1008 @castielscaplan @grumpysunnybarnes @pinksplace @luvyoupxmimi @slutdier @yes-ilovetowrite @cautiouscas17 @astridphantom @delusionalwomsn @cinnamon-girl-writes @wherewinterblooms @stifflyspeedyquirk @sassandscribbles @marvelouslyme96 @tw1sters @stesha02 @floatingvalhallasea @goobers-mcgee @t1redphoenix @vickynguyennn @bluellamacheesecake-blog @serenityrjd @pitabread79 @galaxygoddess30 @biggestfangirl @chenoadouble-o7 + to get added to the taglist .ᐟ
TW explicit sexual content (no explicit anatomy is mentioned as per usual, but it’s still very explicit!) pegging/strap-on, fem!reader, sub! Bucky, praise kink, established relationship.
I simply cannot ignore @starsinmay ‘s comment on the Pillow Princess Bucky post (this could be a one shot, could also be a part two to the linked post) 🫶
The strap was already in him, and Bucky Barnes looked like he was liking the twenty-first century more and more with each thrust.
He was on his back beneath you, thighs spread around your hips, one hand gripping the pillow above his head, the metal one curled tight in the sheets. His face was flushed, lips parted, eyes unfocused every time you rocked forward and pushed in deep.
He had been so… hesitant when you first brought pegging up.
He wasn’t exactly disgusted or offended. Just… flustered.
He had been sitting on the edge of the bed with his hair loose around his face, looking down at the harness in your hands like you had shown him alien technology.
“People do this now?” he had asked, voice low with embarrassment, his cheeks slightly red.
You had shrugged, trying not to smile too much. “People have always done it. We just… talk about it more now.”
His ears had gone pink. “Oh.”
Still, he was curious enough to try, and trusted you to be the one to do it to him.
That was how he ended up like this, shaking under you, breath punching out of his chest every time your hips met his. It was too much and not enough at once. Too intimate, too filthy, too vulnerable. It was a new kind of pleasure for him; a new sensation he couldn’t grit his teeth through.
Fuck, it made him melt.
You leaned over him, one hand braced beside his head, the other sliding up his chest to feel the frantic beat of his heart.
“Still with me?” you whispered.
Bucky nodded, frantic and wrecked.
His voice barely worked. “Yeah.”
You kissed his jawline and moved again, slow and deep, watching his mouth fall open to give way to a silent gasp.
“There,” you murmured. “That’s it. Taking it so well, baby.”
His eyes squeezed shut.
“Nuh-uh,” You kissed the corner of his mouth. “Don’t hide from me now.”
He opened them again, glassy now, and the sight went down to your core. Big, dangerous Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier, your overprotective stubborn boyfriend, laid out beneath you and trembling because you had a strap-on in him and he liked it.
He liked it so much it almost startled him.
You could see it in the way his brow pinched, in the way his throat worked around words he couldn’t get out. His hips kept lifting to meet you even when his face burned with embarrassment.
“You’re so pretty like this,” you breathed.
He made a broken gasp and turned his face into your palm when you cupped his cheek.
“Don’t,” he rasped.
“Don’t what?”
His lashes fluttered. “Say stuff like that.”
You smiled and rolled your hips harder.
Bucky choked.
“Why?” you whispered. “Because it makes you needier?”
His metal hand twisted in the sheet until the fabric tore.
You kissed him before he could be embarrassed by it.
It was messy and filthy, his mouth open under yours, breath shaky against your tongue. You kept the rhythm steady while you kissed him, fucking him slow enough that he had to feel every slick drag, every deep grind.
Then your hand slid down between you and wrapped around him.
“Oh—fuck.”
There he was. A real word at last, torn out of him like a confession.
You hummed against his mouth, stroking him in time with your hips.
His head tipped back into the pillow.
“Too much?” you asked softly.
He shook his head immediately, almost panicked.
“No. No, don’t—” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard. “Don’t stop.”
You kissed his throat. And you weren’t planning on stopping till you finished the job.
You kept him pinned under your weight, kept the strap buried deep while your hand worked him, dragging every last bit of pride out of him. Bucky stopped trying to be quiet as pretty sounds started slipping out of him anyway: rough gasps, breathless little groans, your name broken into a million pieces.
He looked ruined and flushed and sweaty and shaking, mouth wet from your kisses, hair stuck to his forehead, body helplessly chasing both your hips and your hand. He held onto your waist like he needed you more than oxygen,
“You’re okay,” you whispered. “I’ve got you.”
His eyes found yours.
“Feels…” He stopped, teeth chattering.
“I know.”
He shook his head, desperate now, trying again. “Feels so—”
You pushed in deep, and the rest of the sentence disappeared.
His body bowed under you, thighs tightening hard around your hips. You kissed him through it, swallowed the helpless noise that left him, kept moving until he shattered completely beneath you.
Bucky came apart with your name in his mouth and his hands locked on you, shaking so hard the bed creaked under both of you. You slowed your hips but didn’t pull away, working him through it until he was trembling too much to take anymore, streaks of white painting his stomach and yours.
Only then did you stop.
You kissed his cheek, his nose, then the corner of his mouth.
“There you go,” you whispered. “I’ve got you.”
For a long moment, he couldn’t answer.
He just dragged you down against him, arms wrapping around you, face buried against your neck. His body was hot and wrecked and utterly surrendered beneath you.
You stroked his hair away from his damp forehead.
“You okay?”
Bucky nodded against your shoulder.
Then, barely audible, ruined beyond repair, Bucky whispered, “Wanna do that again.”
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Stretching a cute boy’s ass for the first time, letting him whine and cry into the pillows. It’s okay buddy, you’re making me feel so good- just behave and let me use you. Real boys get fucked like this, and you’re a real boy, aren’t you?
Leaving his cute little cunt neglected and dripping, covered in a layer of his own slick.., topped off with his adorable cock, twitching and begging for attention he won’t be getting.
Something about it seems too nasty not really in the bad way but in the way that he hadn’t allowed his mind go there with you, to think about all the filthy things he might desire. Doesn't want to be disrespectful or get himself worked up in fantasies. Many nights he’d be in his tent alone bulge twitching and he’d have to fight away thoughts of you nude, so he’s trained himself to tame his mind when it comes to you. He's hesitant and ashamed. He’s aware of his size and that he could easily wear out your jaw and bruise your uvula if he y’all aren't careful. Plus even after many long baths he doesn't think he's clean enough to be in your mouth. It puzzles him how you swallow him up and run your tongue over his skin like you're indulging in his taste. He doesn't understand it but he indulges you. He'd give you whatever you wanted, always. When your eyes well up with tears and you start gagging he tries pulling away every time but your hands hold his hips firm as you continue to devour him.
Eventually he begins to understand that you enjoy it and it's not just because you want to please him and at the very least he begins to relax a bit allowing you to move your hands to the base of his large cock; stroking the part that you can’t quite take it into your mouth. He leans back on his elbows but his eyes never leave you. Except, for when he gets close and then he starts begging for you to release him because he knows he won't be able to control himself. He won't pull away or deny you your desires but he’ll plead, caressing your hair in his hand, biting back his whines and pulling his eyebrows together as his eyes roll back into his skull. Every time he cums his hips rut up uncontrollably like an animal in heat. Even when he’s only jerking off he’ll cum like he’s breeding something. He knows you’ll choke, hell, you know you’ll choke but it doesn't matter because when his cum starts to spill down your throat it's all worth it. He’s mesmerized and apologetic as he watches you try and swallow up the large amount of cum he ejaculates EVERY SINGLE TIME. No matter how hard you try to contain every drop it spills down the corners of your mouth, your chin, down your neck and onto your chest. Arthur's large hand caresses your face and pets your hair wordlessly affirming that you’ve been so good for him. He’s breathless and a bit dazed but he’ll manage to pant out a mixture of apologies, and praises. Funny how he acts as though you weren't the one using him like a teether to satisfy your desires.
He doesn't understand the extent of your fixation until once when he came home from a long while away and you had him cumming down your throat, on your chest and wherever else you could think of for hours, just from your mouth alone. At some point he started climaxing without even cumming. What a sight it was, cum all over his abdomen, his happy trail soaked, his tip all red and dripping, wet lashes squeezed shut, and his mouth hanging open like he was passed out. He woke up past noon the next day still completely spent, he almost had a bone to pick with you, but when you entered with a fresh plate of pancakes, placing a kiss on his forehead, and whispering praises about what a good boy he’d been last night, any recollection of the nearly tortuous orgasms that shook his whole body again and again, and knocked him out, left his brain instantly. After that he knew when you settled in between his legs not to question you or squirm in the hesitant way he always had before.
So Jealous of this artist (@Altergoat on tiktok I believe)
Wrote way more on this idea than I expected. There's even more than this but it's still a little too rough.
a recent omo fantasy that won't leave my head, college house party edition!
the location is the shared house of some of my friends, and i've spent the evening talking and giggling with the girl i have feelings for as she downs drink after drink. it's not long before she's complaining about needing to pee but not wanting to break the seal yet. i shrug, putting on my best "who cares?" face and tell her to just go. this makes her get pouty, and she insists she doesn't want to be running to the bathroom over and over again for rest of the night, so she'll hold it as long as possible before going.
time passes, and her movements get more and more squirmy as the conversation continues. she's huffing and twisting her long legs together and it takes everything in me not to outright stare. eventually, she lets out a slurred whine and says "m sooo full, but i don' wanna stop talking to youuu~" i, again, suggest she goes to the bathroom, but she frowns before clumsily climbing into my lap and slotting my thigh between her own. i just sit there, stunned for a moment, before she demands i continue talking to her while she keeps holding. the alcohol mushes my brain as i start telling a completely random story, much more focused on the fact that there is a hot, desperate girl in my lap who is actively rubbing slightly against my thigh. she hums along in acknowledgment for a while before resting her head on my shoulder, mouth just inches away from my ear as i hear the shifting of weight pull a small whimper out of her. i stop rambling at this point and just gently rub her back, thankful that the party has settled on a rambunctious game of jack box and is not paying us any attention.
and then i feel it: a little gush of warmth. the girl gasps and tries to squeeze her legs together, but that only presses my thigh further into her core as she squirms and pants. "i need-- i need to go now i think" she says before stumbling back off of my lap. i almost pull her back down, beg her to let me slip my fingers down the front of her damp panties and wring every last drop out of her, but i don't. instead, i watch her hobble away to the bathroom with a sheepish smile and a wet spot on the front of her jeans.
Need a dom to put their hands down my pants, rub my tdick and tell me I’m such a good boy for getting hard for them, then they finger me and suck me making me cum over and over again even though I can’t take any more they tell me I’m doing such a good job and it’ll only be a little longer until they’re done with their toy
I wanna be collared down and get my leash pulled towards my owner while he degrades me and tells me to sit on his lap, and I do like a good puppy and he praises me in a sickly sweet voice, petting my hair before he lifts his thigh and I grind into it like the helpless mutt i am and he keeps praising me and petting my hair while I soak his pants with my wetness and he pulls my hair right as a cum all over his pants And than he forces me on my knees and shoves my face so far into his crotch I can smell his musk and I drool all over it And once he whips it out I just start sucking the ever living shit out of it and he grabs my hair and pulled my mouth out, doing a like tsk tsk tsk sound and scolding me for going to fast but being graceful enough to let me have a second chance and I just take my time while sucking it and tasting his musk and getting drunk off it while grinding my hips to the floor like a dirty little mutt for friction until he gives me permission to touch myself and I do and than he grabs my head and shoves it down my throat till I can smell his musk all around me and he fucks my face until I cum all over the floor and he cums inside of my throat and I taste him for days
And after all of that he picks me up and bathes with me, picks matching outfits, gives me water and food and cuddles with me, praising me and telling me how much of a good puppy I was for him and that he's so proud of me and that he'd always love me while kissing my forehead and we fall into a blissful sleep,,
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Shoving my knee between your legs and telling you to get yourself off. I’m not helping you, I’m not moving it for you. You can’t do it yourself or I’m leaving you with no release.
Thinking about having a girl with a remote control vibrator taped right against her clit or the underside of her glans and I take her out without panties on in a summer dress and we have a cute date, and I keep buzzing her randomly and at different intensities until she begs me to cum, but the trick is that we're not allowed to go into any enclosed spaces for that. She has to be discreet, find an alley or other deserted area that hopefully no one walks through, or give up and be a shameless little exhibitionist slut for me
puppyboy who is intentionally getting as high as humanly possible so that he can get all soft and stupid and desperate in his owner’s lap. all glassy-eyed and loose, pupils huge, skin hot, whining over nothing, twitching from every little touch. getting clingy and bratty at the same time, nosing under his owner's jaw, grinding down in slow needy little motions, making it painfully obvious what he wants without having to say it. getting so wet he can feel it, thighs shaking, body practically begging to be pinned down and dealt with.
his ftm owner looking at him and instantly getting it. seeing how wrecked he already is, how fucked-out he looks before anything’s even happened, and deciding to make it worse. holding him down, spreading him open, fucking him until he goes even dumber. until the whining turns into helpless crying, until he’s too high and too full to do anything but take it, until every thrust makes him jolt and gush and squirm. fucking the squirt out of him, exactly like he wanted, until he’s trembling and soaked and boneless afterwards, all dazed and happy because getting ruined was the whole point.
Your incubus boyfriend has a million ways to make you fall apart, using his cock like a sex toy to make you cum again and again until you have to push him off of you, clamping a hand between your legs to protect your overly sensitive pussy, unable to help your laughter even as you lose the contest of who cums first once again. He has stamina for days on end and you've tried everything. Faerie aphrodisiacs, naga venom, even triggering his rut outside of its usual cycle. He stays hard for you until you beg for his cum and while you love it, you really want to see him fall apart.
Then one night, you accidentally find his weakness when he's grinding his cock into your cunt which is still throbbing from your third climax, catching your wrists and kissing you sweetly on the mouth.
"Just one more, okay? Give me one more. Come on, I know you can do it," he murmurs.
Usually you wrestle him off with your hands but he has those pinned. In your desperation to get away from the insistent press of his cock into your weeping walls, you bite him, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. You may as well have pressed the trigger of a gun with the way he falters above you, gasping out a curse as he shoves his cock into you as far as he can and just explodes into you.
"Fucking hell." He sounds as surprised as you feel, staring down at you in shock. "I meant to do that."
"Oh yeah?" You feel your lips curving into a devious smirk. "I am going to enjoy getting you back for all the times you've forced me to cum."
"It's not going to happen again," he scoffs, but the next night you give it another go, and he cums before you.
It looks like you've just found his kryptonite and you have no idea why you didn't think to try it before. Now he has his delicious neck to protect and you have a way to give what you get, wringing orgasm after orgasm out of him until he's shooting blanks, much to his humiliation and your glee.
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Your butch werewolf girlfriend hates going into heat. She has an alpha disposition and doesn't like being vulnerable around others, something you have quickly learned. She prefers to fuck you till you're a drooling mess, not the other way around. Every couple of months she has to take a break from the suppressants and go through a full heat cycle if she wants to stay healthy and she hates it.
She gets moody and bitey and prefers to stay shut up in the home office, typing angrily away on her laptop until she can't bear it more and comes staggering out to find you, dripping slick down her muscular thighs, vibrating with need and barely suppressed animal hunger.
While you secretly love the way she falls apart and loses control and becomes even more dominant, you know there's a submissive side to her that only comes out during her heats, that she does everything in her power to suppress. You want to see your strong girlfriend bare her neck to you for once. Now, a male werewolf is out of the question--not that your jealous self would be able to handle someone else in your bed anyway--so you took to the internet to do some research, joining forums to ask other lesbian werewolf couples what they did during their heats. And oh boy, did you get some interesting answers.
The toy you've ordered has just arrived, and it's perfectly on time with your girlfriend's heat. It's the second day, where her control truly begins to frazzle and her usual gruff voice becomes whiny and soft, much to her chagrin. You unwrap the toy and walk into the bedroom. Your girlfriend is growling with frustration, fucking her hand while she holds a pair of your panties up to her nose. You raise your eyebrows.
"Struggling all by yourself, cutie?"
"Fuck!" She shouts. "I can't fucking cum."
"Aw," you giggle.
She narrows her eyes and bares her teeth at you.
"I bought you something," you announce.
"A pill strong enough to knock me out for the week?"
You shake your head and hold up the toy. It's a pink silicone dildo with a fat mushroom head and a thick shaft. It's daringly bigger than most of the toys you already have in your arsenal. The balls of the toy are the real kicker. They're larger than they need to be and hold a surprise you can't wait to give. Your girlfriend groans, her eyes shining with reluctant lust.
"Okay, fine. Get over here and fuck me with that thing."
You grin and hop on the bed fully clothed, yet another way you like to tease her. Her pussy is wet and puffy, dripping with arousal, already stretched out from her fingers.
"Think you can take all of this in one go?" You ask as you rub it through her wetness, smirking because you know she's too proud to say anything other than yes.
"Easily," she bites out.
You shrug and slam the toy into her in one smooth stroke and her back arches.
"Fuckkk," she whines.
"Too big?"
"Fuck you," she gasps, her hips jerking against the bed, fucking herself on the toy.
She tends to clench her teeth to keep from whimpering so you lean up and kiss her, prising her mouth open with your tongue so that every breathy moan floats out whorishly.
"I fuckin' hate you," she grumbles and you tug and pinch on her tender nipples.
"Oh yeah? Want me to make you beg to prove otherwise?"
"No, I'm sorry," she whines, burying her face in your neck, shuddering as you continue to thrust the toy into her tight cunt.
Her fingers pluck at your shirt and she stuffs her head under it. Since you're not wearing a bra, she's free to latch onto your nipples, sucking and biting at them. It feels good, but you can't afford to be distracted now, so you pause to remove your shirt and scoot down between her legs.
"Think I can make you squirt?"
"Squirting is for bitches," she huffs, although her whole body trembles at the idea.
You catch her clit between your lips and suck, coaxing her closer to the edge, waiting for the signs that she's about to cum. Her head is flung back on the pillow, eyes closed. It's perfect. She doesn't see the way you squeeze the balls of the toy, and the way it makes the base of the silicone shaft expand, pumping up into an artificial knot. You keep it well away from her entrance until the moment she tips over the edge, her claws sinking into a pillow as she lets out a rumbling groan. You push the knot forward and after a long moment it pops into her and she howls.
"What the fuck!" She hollers, trembling all over as her body kicks into overdrive.
You tug on the toy, fucking the knot into her body as she screams with pleasure. You've never seen her cum so hard.
"Wow," you murmur when she finally comes to a gasping rest, the toy still lodged deep inside her.
She flings an arm over her eyes. "Just wait, my love," she says. "The minute my legs stop shaking it's going to be my turn to do that to you."
It’s your Puppy!Hybrid’s first Christmas, and you can tell he’s excited. He’s kneeling obediently before the pile of presents, tail wagging in anticipation.
You hurry to unwrap your gift under his watchful gaze: an empty box. Huh? You look up, confused, awaiting an explanation. Did he forget to include the actual item?
“It’s your evening attire,” he shouts with enthusiasm.
Your cheeks begin to burn bright red as the realization sinks in. “Bad! Bad!” you scold, pushing his drooling snout off you.
This seems to be the only thing on his mind, holidays be damned.
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