Insatiable You*
Summary:Â The second part to Infinite You*
The one where Harry wants to know more about these smutty books you read. And maybe have a bit of fun, too.
Word Count: 5.8k
Content Warning:Â 18+, smut, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, spitting, Sir Kink
âBegin.â
âHarryââ
âBegin,â he repeats. Stern. Final. âIâm not gonna ask you again, Kitten. This is what we agreed on, yeah? Said you would. So go.â
Your hands shake as you hold the book against your chest. You nod quickly, eager to please him, and you feel relieved when he smiles.Â
You open the novel and flip to the bookmarked page. You can feel him watching you from his place between your legs and you attempt to cover your face with the pages before heâs quicklyâand easilyâpushing the book back down.
He gives you a certain look that makes you swallow, and you nod again.
âSorry,â you whisper.
âSâokay,â he says. Heâs trying not to smile. âBut I wanna see you. You know that.â
You swallow for a second time and flick your attention back to the page. âSoâŠjustâŠanywhere?â
He hums. âAnywhere.â
You straighten up and clear your throat. âDamien was quiet as he entered Elizabethâs bedroom. He could see her laid out in wait. Her familiar silhouette illuminated in the gentle light of the moon. Heâd know her anywhere.â
You glance at Harry. Heâs smirking. Intrigued. And you feel your cheeks warm as you look back to the story. Even if itâs not inherently smutty yet, you know itâs coming.
âHe walked closer, careful not to disturb her peace as he made his way into her space. Pulling the soft blanket away from her hips to reveal the silk nightgown underneath.â You take a deep breath. You feel Harry squeeze your ankle. âHeâŠhe could see her glistening cunt beneath the sheer fabric. Sheâd been waiting for him. Working herself up in anticipation for his return. So it would be easier for him to take her once he arrived.â
As you read, you feel Harryâs fingers travel up the length of your leg and toward the large shirt resting around your hips. He pulls it back to reveal your glistening pussy. Equally as worked up as the one in the story.
You hesitate, embarrassed and enamored, before he nods once to reassure you. Heâs far too amused to let you stop now. After all, this was your deal. You would read, he would reenact.
Your insides twist as you continue. âShe stirred the moment his cold fingertips made contact with her warm skin. Still, he was gentle. He stroked and he pulled and he situated her where he wanted her. She was good. Quiet. Allowing herself to be moved without so much as a whimper.â
In turn, Harryâs large hands tighten around your hips. Tugging you away from the headboard and closer to his face. You gasp and clutch the book as though itâll save you, but nothing can save you now.
âGo,â he murmurs and itâs anxious. He knows whatâs coming and he knows he canât begin until Damien does.
You continue. âHer body greeted him the way it always did. It was warm to the touch and seemed to call to him like a siren. Luring him closer until he had no choice but to take a taste.â
Harry scoots closer. Ready.
âHis tongue flattened against her and he savored her need until he was short of breath. Licking and nipping at her until she awoke and cried out his nameââ
However, you lose the rest the moment Harryâs tongue drags up your cunt and settles against your clit. And you decide that this is much better than reading alone because this is infinitely more vivid than the image in your head. Better than Damien, better than your own hand, better than a toy.
And Harry is beautiful. With his sharp, strong jaw that somehow looks sharper with the way he mouths at you. With his curls that are falling against his forehead and with the muscles that flex whenever he tightens his hold on your legs.
You drop the book onto your stomach and whimper, âHarryââ
He stops. Looks up.Â
âSir,â you correct quickly. âSir, pleaseââ
âKeep reading,â he nearly grunts. He juts his chin toward the novel. âGo.â
Your fingers are trembling as you lift the book back up. He expects too much of you when his tongue is lapping at your body the way it is. âHe did not waver. She was sensitive from whatever ministrations she had practiced before he arrived, but he carried on. He pulledâŠhe pulled her clit between his teeth and gave her something to cry about.â
Harry follows suit and your eyes roll back. Heâs perfect, considering heâs only done this once before. But he knows how to treat you, how to touch you, how to taste you. Better than anyone ever has. Heâs insatiable and determined.Â
âHe swallowed her down like a man dying of thirst,â you read through strained, shallow breaths. âShe was his vixen. His wet, perfect little dream. Already pulling him closer by her warmthâshitââ
He smacks your thigh. Wrong. You keep reading.
âShe pulled his hair and brought him closer. She lived within his lungs. He didnât want the air she hadnât touched. He wanted every drop that was wasted on the sheets below. The drops that belonged to him. Because her taste belonged to him. Always.â
Harryâs fingers curl around the backs of your thighs before he lifts them up. Creating more room and space for him to work. And he does. He takes and he groans and he licks a stripe from your ass to your clit. More intimate than you were expecting and you gasp before the book drops.
âNo,â he seethes against your pussy. He licks harder, sucks faster. âKeep going.â
âHarryââ
âGo.â
You can hardly see the words through the haze in your eye. Theyâre melting off the page, blurring together. Still, you try. You obey. âDamien teased her with his finger. He knew she could take him, but he needed to hear her beg.â
In turn, the tip of Harryâs finger begins to smooth through the wet folds beneath his tongue. The sensation is overwhelming and you feel yourself clench at the very thought of him sliding inside. The anticipation almost dreadful.Â
But he doesnât. Instead, his eyes find yours. âBeg me.â
Your breath catches. âHarryââ
He slaps your clit. Hard. âBeg me,â he repeats. âFucking beg me, baby. Beg me to touch you. Beg me to stretch you. Beg me to fuck this cute little hole until youâre coming all down my hand.â
You clutch the paperback novel so hard, you feel it dent. âHarryââ
âSir,â he corrects sharply. Thereâs something virile in his eye. A step past insatiable. Depraved. Like a wild animal with his prey.Â
And you arenât afraid. You arenât embarrassed or ashamed. Because you understand this hunger. It's the same hunger you felt after days of not being with him. Of knowing he was with Rebecca while you were alone with your pillow. Knowing he fell asleep in her arms instead of yours.Â
It's not just some itch you need scratched. It's him. His technique, his aurora, his presence. Mind, body, soul. Him. Nobody else will ever do it for you the way he can. Not even Damien.
âBeg me,â he repeats from below, ravenous attention locked on you. âBeg me, KittenâŠand Iâll give it to you.â
You hold the book in one hand and his curls in the other. âPlease,â you exhale. Itâs airy and faint, but filled with a kind of desperation you know he understands. âPlease, Sir. Please touch me. PleaseâŠit hurts.â
He hums and swipes his tongue over your clit. Teasingly. Temptingly. He thinks. âDoes it?â
You nod quickly. âAnytime Iâm not with you, it hurts. PleaseâŠnobody else can fix it.â
Thereâs a soft smile on his glistening lips. One you almost donât catch through the tears in your lashes. âNobody, hm?â
You shake your head.
âHave you been trying to find somebody else, Kitten?â He nips at you again. âHave you been going around, trying to give away whatâs mine?â
Your eyes widen and your skin warms. You hate how much you love the possessive undertone. Even if he doesnât mean it. âNever.â
He looks back up. âDo you promise?â
You swallow. You do promise, even though the truth isâŠyou arenât his. And you donât imagine you ever will be. Still, you whisper, âI promise.âÂ
And you mean it. More than anything.
Satisfied, the tip of his finger begins to push you open. Stretching the warm, quivering walls that are anxious to draw him in, effortlessly easing the ache in your stomach.
You let out a relieved sigh that makes him smirk and you adore his smugness. More than you should.
âKeep reading,â he repeats yet again while thrusting his finger in and out at a deviously slow pace.
The book shakes as itâs brought back up. âSheâŠshe pulled his hair and whispered his name. And heâd never heard something so beautiful. Her mouth was good for many things, but moaning his name was perhaps Damienâs favorite.â
Harry kisses everywhere he can. Your cunt, your thighs, your hip. Pulling at the skin and sucking it until itâs bright red and swollen before soothing it gently with his tongue.
âShe was trembling beneath him,â you read. âShe was sensitive and ready to give him her second orgasm. And he was ready to take itââ
âAnd are you ready, baby?â Harry says to you now. His grin is mischievous as he awaits your response. Because he knows you are. Knows that you were a good girl, that you did your homework and obeyed his instruction. That you touched yourself before he arrived, exactly like Elizabeth had.Â
You let out an unsteady breath and nod once. âYes.â
âGood. Keep going."
You go back to your novel. âWhen she came, she was loud. Her naked body gleamed beneath her nightgown, covered in those dewy beads of sweat that made his mouth water. He wanted to run his tongue up and down every inch of her. To taste her, fully. To have her inside of him the way he was desperate to be inside her.â
Harry suddenly crawls up your body and begins to drag his tongue along your shaky stomach. A trail of saliva follows in the wake of his mouth and you canât help but whimper as you watch him move toward your chest.Â
âRead,â he murmurs against your left tit, leaving you no choice but to oblige.Â
âWhen the light found her eyes, he saw what she really wanted,â you continue. âShe pulled on him again and pleaded, âDamien, please. I canât wait.â So, he took himself from her swollen cunt and pressed his mouth to hers. He gave her a taste of herself and she swallowed it all, gladlyââ
And before you can even ready yourself, Harry is taking your lips with his and sucking. Biting. Having. Feeding that hunger until you melt beneath him. Giving you the same taste Damien gave Elizabeth.
His tongue feels good against yours and the sensation is unfathomable. But not because of you...because of him.Â
He knows you canât read very well like this, but he doesnât mind. He draws back and holds your jaw in his palm until you open your mouth in acceptance. And thenâŠhe spits. Right down your throat, as though every drop belongs to you.
And you swallow it all. Gladly.
His kisses eventually move back down before he instructs you to finish the scene. And you struggle your way through it, despite how anxious you are to reach the end. âHer pussy welcomed him in and it felt like coming home. He held her throat in his hand and whispered, âTell me, my love. Tell me what you did while I was away. Tell me exactly how you touched yourself as you waited.ââ
You feel Harry nudge his nose underneath your chin before he says, âGo on, baby. Tell me.â
You close your eyes and allow the memory to find you. âI thought of you,â you tell him softly. Quietly. Youâre embarrassed again and you donât know why. âThought of how you knew what I was doing while I did it.â
You feel him smile against your throat.
âThought about what you told me to do,â you continue. âHowâŠhow you told me to take good care of your pussy until you got here.â
He hums and it seems to vibrate through the fingers still pumping inside your cunt. âAnd you did, didnât you?â
You nod wordlessly.
âTell me how.â
Another mesmerized inhale. âI was here,â you whisper. The noise he makes this time is greedier. âI was here and IâŠI remembered how you looked last time. I thought of you, and IâŠI tried to do what you would do.â
He grins a bit wider and it makes your chest swell. âIs that right, Kitten?â
âMhm.â You clutch the book to keep from writhing. âAnd I moaned your name when I came. Knew I couldnât come for anybody else. Didnât want to.â
He nuzzles his face in your shoulder and groans. âGod, youâre gonna fucking kill me, baby. You know that? My egoâs already too big.â
âMaybe,â you laugh breathlessly. âBut it should be. Youâre so good, Harry. Couldnât wait to see you. Think I came just picturing you walking through my door.â
He leans back now and your heart drops. Perhaps that was a bit too honest. Too intimate. Especially considering that heâs still not yours to have.
He studies you a moment and you wait. Timidly. Preparing yourself for the disappointment that might follow his reply.
Then, he dips down, and nuzzles his nose against yours. âYouâre too good to me,â he exhales. It sounds heavy. Scared. Sweet. âI donât deserve you, Kitten. I hope you know that.â
You drop the book and take hold of the curls against the back of his neck. You squeeze them tight in your fist as you shake your head. You hate the resolve in his voice. âThatâs not true. Iâm justâŠhere. Iâm just me. Youâre the one going out of your way to help me.â
Another smile but itâs softer. Sadder. âI think youâre helping me more than Iâm helping you.â
You lift up and kiss him. âWeâre helping each other,â you decide. âFor as long as we can.â
When he kisses you back, you feel limitless. âGood.â He smacks his other hand against the outside of your leg. âNow, finish the chapter. Weâre just getting to the good bit.â
You nearly whine but you do obey. Flipping through the pages until you find where you last left off. âElizabeth looked at him, unabashedly. âWhat would you have liked me to do?â she asked. Her voice was a silky purr. âHow would you have liked me to touch myself without you? Would you have liked me to be soft and tender? Or would you have liked me to be just as hard and relentless as you?ââ
Harry listens carefully, kissing a trail along down your chest while his fingers begin to work you closer. He knows youâre only moments away. Somehow, he always knows.
ââWould you have preferred that I soak our sheets? Would you have liked to see the aftermath of my lust for you?â She dragged her nails down his back. âOr do you like to know that I cannot touch myself the way you touch me? That my body does not respond to my hand the way it does yours?ââ
Suddenly, he adds a third finger and your mouth instantly drops open. It starts to unravel before you can stop it and when he thrusts to the knuckle, you see those stars again. The same stars that brought him to you.
âHarry,â you gasp. You clutch his hair and his tongue dives forward. âShit, Harry, waitââ
You come but he doesnât stop. Damien might have, but Harry is most certainly not Damien. He flicks and sucks and pumps until you begin to cry. Until your legs are shaking on either side of his head and youâve nearly yanked the curls from his skull.
Still, he pushes you toward a secondâor rather, a third. And itâs far too quick for your liking.
âHarâŠshit, Harry, pleaseââ You squirm and you fight against the almost painful pleasure radiating between your legs. âHurtsâŠhurts, Harry, pleaseââ
âDonât care,â you vaguely hear him murmur before heâs nipping at your clit again. âAgain.â
Your cheeks are soaked and your fingers move from his curls to the bed beneath. You clutch the sheets and arch from the mattress, but he shoves you back down.
âAgain,â he says. He slaps your pussy and you mewl. âYouâve done it before. Know you can do it again. Be good for me, come on. Be fucking good.â
And itâs almost sinister but it works. You come for a third time and your body feels wrecked. Ruined. Spent. You lose yourself in the sensation and by the time you find yourself again, heâs pulling his cock out and lining himself up.
âRead,â he demands next. He nods at the book. Heâs determined to see this through. âGo. This is what you wanted, isnât it? Told me you used to fuck yourself to these books, so I wanna fuck you to them, too. Wanna show you how much better the real thing is. So fucking read it, baby.â
You mindlessly reach for the novel beside you and drag it back open. You know heâs right and you plan to rush through the rest of the chapter so you can throw the book away and never open it again.
âWhen he pushes in, his breath becomes hers,â you whisper. âHer cunt accepts his cock and molds to it. And he knows, undoubtedly, that her pussy was made for him. That she was sewn together in the heavens and left on his lap for such a purpose. Because no one would ever be able to please her the way Damien could. No other man could even try. She was made for him. To be loved by him. To be fucked by him. To live and die for him. They were one.â
Harry waits for you to finish the thought before he finally pushes forward, the tip of his large head disappearing between your folds.Â
He braces himself against your hips and your lungs nearly give out. And he watches. He watches every fucking second of the way his cock stretches you open. Curses when he sees the way you accept him. Grits his teeth and fists your skin until heâs completely bottomed out.
And thenâŠhe kisses you.
Long and slow and it almost feels grateful. Like heâs thanking you for letting him inside and you sigh against his mouth.
Then, the book is suddenly snatched from your hand and chucked across the room before he kisses you harder. He growls, âEnough. You donât come for him anymore. You fucking come for me. Is that understood?â
You whine his name but itâs not enough.
âIs that fucking understood?â he repeats louder. âYou are not to pick up that goddamn book as long as youâre mine, do you hear me? You will not touch yourself to another manâs words or soak these fucking sheets for anybody else but me.â
And even if Harry isnât a possessive man by nature, you thrive off the instruction. The threatâthe demand. You imagine he doesnât truly mean it, nor would he be that cross with you if you were to do it again.
But it fits the scene and you want to be perfect for him. âI understand,â you whimper. You bite your lip but he bites it harder. âThough, technicallyâŠit was written by a woman.â
You like to think heâd laugh if it were any other time. Today, however, he merely yanks himself out of your pussy and flips you around.
Youâre on your stomach and spread before you can catch your breath. And you feel him push back in without a momentâs hesitation while his hand comes down in a firm smack to your ass.
You cry out his name and nuzzle your cheek against the bed. You miss being able to see him, but you happen to adore this side of him, too.
âDid I fucking ask?â he hisses before spanking you again. You feel your skin grow hot where his hand lands and somehow, it brings you even closer to release. âHuh? I donât fucking care who wrote it. It is no longer yours to read. Tell me you understand.â
âI understand,â you say again. âI do, Sir. I promise.â
He kneads the tender flesh in his palm before mumbling, âGood girl. Now, are you gonna take my cock, Kitten? You gonna let me show you how a real man does it?â
Thankfully, your fervent nod is answer enough and with that, he begins a harsh, unforgiving pace that turns your insides to jello.
The bed shakes and your body shakes and this is fucking. The kind youâve only ever seen in porn and you are so incredibly present in this moment with him. You drink in every detail, the way he holds your body, the way he fucks into your pussy, the way it sounds when he slips.Â
His hips feel good against your ass and his soft grunts are euphoric. A few rendezvous arenât enough, you realize. You thought you were addicted before but nowâŠ
You donât think itâs fair that he doesnât have to share you, but you have to share him. And you canât hide the pout that forms on your lips at the very thought of him leaving youâleaving your warmthâto go find it with someone else.
And you know heâs not like that. You know heâs not actively with anybody else but youâŠand occasionally Rebecca. Still, the chance is there. The offer is his for the taking, should he decide to take it.
When you go quiet, he weaves his fingers through your hair. âBaby, whatâs wrong?â Itâs still gruff the way he speaks but laced with tender concern. The kind youâre used to from him.
You replace the pout with a small smile. âNothing, Sir. I promise.â
âWould you like to take a break? Or change colors?â
You shake your head. âNo. I promise.â
He slows his thrusts. âAre you thinking again?â he asks gently. âDid I lose you to those ugly thoughts?â
You could almost cry from the way he notices. The way he cares. Still, you force a brave face. âNo, sorry. Just feels really good.â
Heâs unconvinced. âKittenââ
âPlease donât stop, Sir,â you whimper. You use the quiver in your voice to persuade him. To keep him in this moment with you instead of trying to yank you out. âPlease, IâmâŠIâm so close. Just wanna come with you.â
You hear him sigh and the firm grip on your hip loosens. âAll right,â he concedes, yetâŠhe pulls out.
You nearly wither.
However, before you can, heâs rolling you over onto your back. âI wanna try something else with you this time,â he says. âWanna see if youâd ride me.â
You feel your eyes grow larger while your head nods all on its accord.
And he grins when he sees how mesmerized you are, grabbing your hand to help you up as you both get situated near the headboard. An easier place to start.
He pulls you over his thighs before heâs slipping his hands beneath your large shirt to pull it over your head. And once he has full access to your chest, he takes advantage. Kissing and licking your tits while his palm flattens against your spine to keep you on his tongue. Â
Then, you sit.
You start slow, and he uses his other hand to guide your hips at a pace he prefers. A pace he knows will be easier on you. After all, youâve never taken him like this, and heâd like you to enjoy every fucking inch of the way down.
You gasp and cling to his shoulders as you go. This stretch is just as tantalizing, yet strangely more pleasurable. He feels deeper than he ever has and you glance down at where your bodies meet as though youâll be able to see just where he is.
He smiles and takes your hand. âRight here,â he murmurs, as though anticipating your wonder. He presses your palm flat against your stomach before nudging himself up into you andâ
The gasp melts into a moan, and he thrusts up once more but keeps your hand taut to your tummy. To the subtle bulge you can feel moving beneath.
âShâŠshit,â you manage, nails scratching at your skin. âIâmâŠfuck, Harry, Iââ
âI know,â he says gently. Heâs watching you again. Curious to your reaction and seemingly enthralled by your response. Happy. Content. âI know, baby. Sâgood, yeah?â
You surge forward and kiss him. Taking your hand away only so you can drag it down his chest and claw at his heart as though desperate to reach inside and take hold. To keep it. Forever.
You can feel it thumping against his ribcage. Going about as fast as you imagine yours is and thereâs something so incredibly wonderful about knowing heâs equally as possessed as you are.
He seems to realize heâs the first man to do something so intimate with you and he likes this idea. Likes that he will always be your first memory, forever ingrained in your past. He holds you harder and kisses you deeper and begins to move you faster over his cock.
You shift, and grind, and ride him until youâre both a mess of moans and incoherent praises. He helps lift you up and guide you back down, setting a strangely addictive pace of bouncing on his cock until youâre nearing a fourth. But you wonât succumb until he does.
Your body is spent, every limb tired and aching for relief. It almost hurts, this pleasure, but itâs oddly sweet. Everything always is with him.
âDoing so good,â you hear him say, and you peel your eyes open to watch the way he watches you. His face is magnetic, every inch of him just as erotic as the sex itself. Even the way he swallows and clenches his jaw in pure bliss. âSo fucking good, Kitten, you gonna give me another?â
You mewl pitifully and attempt to nod but itâs useless. The pressure is building and the ache is distracting and youâre close but somehow not nearly close enough.
Yet your tears and meek reaction only entertain him further. He grins wickedly as he rolls you faster, taking your nipple in his mouth before looking up. âWhatâs the matter, baby, hm? Sâit hurt?â
You nod again while your hands cement themselves to his shoulders for balance.
However, he merely hums while his fingers suddenly lift toward his lips and disappear beside his tongue. And he sucks. Loudly. Lewdly. Until theyâre soaked and dripping.
And thenâŠhe drops them to your clit.
The sound you make is miserable and pathetic. It does hurt but in the best way and you bury your face in his neck as though to hide from the pleasure.
You feel him nuzzle his cheek against your head. âShh,â he coos, and rubs his other hand up and down your spine soothingly. âYouâre okay. Youâre gonna take it, arenât you? Gonna give me anotherââ
âHarry,â you cry, gripping onto his curls as though your life depends on it.
âYouâre okay,â he repeats firmly. âYouâre fine. I know you can take me, so take me. Just like you took your little fingers before I got here. You come for me the way you came for him. Okay?â
Itâs mean and cruel and so incredibly sadistic but with one little pinchâŠhe tips you over.
Itâs quick but powerful and youâre drop kicked back into your body just in time to feel him twitch before heâs slamming you down and hissing, âCan I?â
You nod and he fills you. Completely and utterly, until your insides feel even fuller and your mind has gone numb.Â
His head drops back against the headboard, lashes fluttering shut with relief while you watch. You watch all of it. The way he dribbles out of your pussy and down onto his thighs. The way his cock sits snugly inside of you. The way his skin glistens from the sweat and exertion.
But you canât help the whine that slips out when you see those delicious pearlescent drops go to waste and you squirm when you realize how much youâre really losing.
Youâve never been one to care about keeping it inside. In fact, youâve never really cared about it at all. But nowâŠit feels like youâre losing him. Youâre losing this experience by letting it drip down and disappear, and you nearly start to cry.
He takes hold of your cheek and gently sweeps his thumb across the soaked, warm skin of your face. âBaby,â he breathes. âWhatâs wrong?â
You swallow thickly and attempt to relax. You don't imagine he'd understand. âNothing, sorry.â
His head tilts but heâs still smiling. âThen why are you clenching me so hard? Whatâs wrong? Are you in pain, does it hurt?â
âNo. No,â you assure him quickly. âNo, I justâŠI donât know. Feels likeâŠa waste, I guess.â
Heâs confused until you look down and the moment he realizes, he laughs again. âOh, you sweet fucking girlââ He tugs you in for another kiss and now your body is numb, too. âGod, I really donât fucking deserve you.â
You whimper against his tongue and he sighs.
âIâll give you more, donât worry,â he says before kissing down your throat. âNext time. I promise. But right now, I wanna clean you up and make sure youâre all right.â
Youâd likely protest if you had the strength, but instead, you allow him to care for you. He sets you down onto the bed as gently as he can before heâs rushing around your apartment collecting the things he needs.
He starts with a warm washcloth along your inner thighs to collect the sticky residue and add a bit of relief to your swollen cunt. And even though itâs sensitive and you try to squirm away, he soothingly talks you through it. Keeping you calm. Steady. Present.
Then, once heâs washed himself up as well, he asks if it would be all right to hold you. And itâs the easiest yes youâve ever given.
So you stay in his arms for hours, your head on his chest, his lips in your hair. You talk about everything and nothing, just listening to the sound of his heart as he recalls past moments that made him happy. Like this one.
Then, your favorite part. He asks what youâd like to do next time.Â
âI donât know,â you admit sheepishly. âIâŠIâm not sure what all I like.â
He thinks. âWell, we could do some research. Try a few things. You said you like things rougher, yeah? We could add some new dynamics. Degradation, harder spanking, punishments. Things like that.â
Your stomach flips. âYouâre into punishment?â
He laughs and the sound is beautiful. âYeah. Why, does that surprise you?â
âHonestlyâŠyes and no.â
âWe donât have to go too deep if you donât want,â he says. âWe can keep it light, but the option is always there.â
You nod. âAndâŠyou like being rougher? You likeâŠdegradation and all that?â
âYeah. Because I know my partner trusts me to take care of them even if Iâm being harsh. And thereâs something powerful in that, I guess. That their pain and their pleasure belongs to me.â
You feel yourself clench at the very thought before youâre scooting closer. âWellâŠthat sounds good to me. I like being taken care of by you. Even if youâre mean.â
He laughs. âWas I mean, Kitten?â
âNo. Just oddly possessive over that book.â
He hums before he looks toward the discarded novel on the other side of the room. âYeah, wellâŠfuck that book. I mean it.â
Now, itâs your turn to laugh. âHarry.â
âWhat? I do mean it.â He kisses your forehead. âYou deserve better than some half-assed attempt at sex on a page. You deserve to be fucked and looked after. And Damien isnât gonna do that for you.â
âNo, butâŠI have other books.â
He snorts. âOh, really?â
âYeah. I just picked an easy one since I didnât want you to get too jealous.â
âIs that right?â
âYup. Although that clearly didnât work very well.â
You feel him land a firm smack to your ass that makes you squeal before you settle again.
âWatch it,â he warns. âOr Iâll pull you over my lap right now.â
You grin. âMaybe you should.â
And when he chuckles, you feel whole. âNext time. Deal?â
âDeal.â
The room falls silent again as you exist in his hold. Against his heart. In his life in a way you never imagined.
And thenâŠyou ruin it.
âWas she surprised you were coming over again?â you ask quietly, breath already catching in anticipation of his response. âOr was sheâŠmad?â
Yet true to form, heâs calm. âNo,â he says easily. âShe was happy, honestly. Just surprised you didnât mention it to her yourself.â
You grimace. Right. âIâŠyeah. Sorry, IâŠI think I got scared.â
You feel his cheek roll across your head before heâs scratching his nails up and down your back. âWhy, Kitten?â he asks softly. âSheâs not scary, I promise.â
âI know. Fuck, I know. I know, IâŠI donât know.â You groan. âI think IâŠI just think Iâm still not used to this. To this idea ofâŠsharing? And I keep worrying that sheâs gonna change her mind andâŠand itâll be over. Just like that.â
He considers this for a beat before heâs kissing your crown again. âSheâs not like that. I promise. She never would have agreed if she thought sheâd change her mind.â
ââŠI know.â
âAnd even if she did, she doesnât get to make that decision for us,â he tells you. âIf we want to continue, thatâs our choice. And nobody elseâs.â
This makes you smile. âYeah?â
âYeah.â Another kiss. âBut you know she doesnât want this to upset you. She cares about you a lot, Kitten. She values your friendship more than anything and sheâd hate to know sheâs made you so anxious.â
And just like that, you feel dejected again. âI knowâŠâ
âI donât want to come between you two,â he whispers, and you know he means it. âAnd if I amââ
âNo,â you interject. âNo, youâre not. But I donât want to come between you two, either.â
âYouâre not,â he echoes smugly. âAnd I think thatâs why this works. Weâre good at sharing. At least with each other. And I like it this way.â
The contentment in his voice makes your heart swell and you reach up to kiss him firmly in response.
But the truth is, you donât think you are very good at sharing. At least not him.
Although, you suppose youâll have to learn.Â
Because next timeâŠyou donât plan to let him go.
Writing smut inside smut is no joke đ
~ Infinite You* (First Part)
~Â Main Masterlist
Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! đ
Taglist: Â @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs
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Miss jars can we have a teeny tiny itty bitty bit of degrading kink today đ«Ł
âŠ. Yea sure why not.
Patreon
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She was positive she was fucked dumb. There was barely a thought there that wasnât about how fucking amazinf she felt. On top of him with her hands bound behind her back, letting him do the work as she was rendered helpless. A thing she loved being when it came to him.
âAll you areâŠâ his lips brushed her ear, spreading against the love. âIs a pretty little hole to sink my cock into.â The thrusts up into her were deep, hard. Perfect. Making her squeak every time, her hands clenched around each other as she was jerked from the movement, left to his devices. The words made her cunt wet. As much as some people wouldnât get it, she didnât either. She just loved it. Being talked to as if he hated her.
âThis is what youâre good for, darling. Laying there and taking my cock.â His nose brushed against her cheek, the heavier breathing washing over her jaw to make her shiver. âItâs what you deserve. Have a smart mouth, a pretty face, and tight holes. Just for me to use this time. None of the others could make you feel this good.â He crooned, finger pressing into her ass. âRight?â
Y/N moaned weakly, nodding her sweaty head against him. âUh huh- uh huh. Only fâyou.â She could barely speak. He was getting all the right angles, finger in her ass, getting all the right places to make her melt for him. Harry was another level of good sex, one she feared she would never be able to find again. She had failed since.
âThatâs why you call me to stuff you full, make you go cockdumb for a while and clean you up. Donât know if you deserve it, since youâve let other people have it since I touched itâŠâ he taunted. âBut I donât neglect what belongs to me unless deserved. Youâve been good, havenât you?â He pushed the finger in deeper as he thrust into her again, smiling smugly at the hiccuped moan she released. âHavenât let anyone else have my cunt?â
âNo, no, no. No one else, Sir. No one.â She whimpered. âItâs yours, itâs always yours, Iâm your slut. Yours.â
âThatâs what I like to hear, pet. My darling little whore.â A sloppy kiss was gifted to her cheek as he picked up the pace. âNow lay there and let me hear how good you have it.â
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Sarah J. Maas Bonus Chapter Masterlist
Many people have posted images of the bonus chapters from Sarah J. Maas's books, and I thank you for giving us access to content we would have missed out on otherwise. However, no one has posted all of them, so I figure that I can collate the links in one place.
There are minor spoilers below the cut in the chapter descriptions, so be wary of looking too far ahead, if you have not read all the books.
Throne of Glass
The Captain and the Prince - A conversation between Dorian and Chaol before the start of TOG
The Assassin and the Captain - When Celaena arrives back at the castle from her first mission as the King's Champion between TOG and COM, Chaol is waiting to greet her
The Assassin and the Princess - Before the start of COM, once Celaena has been the King's Champion for a month, she and Nehemia do a little shopping in Rifthold
Untitled - Mistward is visited by noblesâincluding one of Rowan's exesâduring Celaena's time there in HOF
Untitled - A bonus chapter while Aelin and the rest of her court travel through Terrasen in EOS
Untitled - Chaol and Nesryn's sea journey before the start of TOD
A Court of Thorns and Roses
Wings and Embers - Cassian goes to visit the mortal world and ask Nesta to deliver a letter to the mortal queens in ACOMAF
Feyre's Perspective - In ACOSF, after Feyre and Rhys tells her sisters about their baby, they have a conversation
Azriel's Perspective - After the Winter Solstice celebration in ACOSF, Azriel is wandering the halls, unable to sleep
Crescent City
Ruhn's Perspective - Once Cormac comes to town in HOSAB, Flynn's younger sister decides to visit
Bryce's Perspective - Part 1 - Part 2 - Cormac invites her to a luncheon at Flynn's parent's villa in HOSAB
Tharion's Perspective - Part 1 - Part 2 - Tharion reminisces about first meeting Hypaxia during HOSAB
An alternative is here; the highlights contain all three chapters
If I have missed any, please feel free to let me know, or link them in the comments/reblogs :D
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Hello and hope you are doing well!! I was wondering if you could do smut story where the reader get more than she bargained for when telling Bucky that his dark side could do a better job at certain things. Also your stories are amazing â€ïžđ€
YESSS. Thank you bb, Im so sorry this took forever and I hope you see this, I loved this so much. And as always I got so lost in it. Good God. He is dirty, dirty here.
You loved the way Bucky loved you. He was so soft, gentle, took care of all your needs without leaving behind a single mark on your delicate skin. Bucky was nothing more than a soft sweet thing, slowly getting back into his boyish 40's charm, a gentleman at all times. If you didn't know about his past, you would've never guessed he'd have another side to him.
But you'd seen the shift in his demeanor whenever he'd train in the gym and even more so when he was out on the field. The way his eyes would narrow with laser like focus when hitting his targets, the way he wouldn't flinch when putting a bullet between their eyes. His face would be expressionless when his metal arm would wrap around their throat, slowly draining life out of them, parts of the Winter Soldier still running deep in his veins.
And how badly you craved to have that side of him take you apart.
"What is it sweets" Bucky watched you fidget with the buckles of his tac suit, helping him undress after he'd just returned after a mission. There was something about him in his all black straps, leather and weapons that made your knees weak. It didn't help that his beard had started to fill out, the ends of his hair starting to curl at the nape of his neck. "You okay?"
You adore how attentive he is even when he's exhausted after weeks away from home but you wished just for once, he'd choke you with his metal arm instead of just hugging you with it.
"I want-" You paused for a second before continuing, "I want more"
"More of what doll" Bucky's wide puppy eyes were filled with worry; he made sure to always pay attention to your needs and he'd do anything to make you happy. "Tell me, you know I'd do anything"
"Just- take more control, be more rough with me" You weren't sure how you wanted to explain yourself but your body knew exactly what it needed, growing hotter by the second the longer he stood there in his tac suit before you. He let out a soft chuckle when he realized what you meant, laying down his knifes off to the side on the dressed.
"I had you moaning my name before I left doll" Bucky playfully rolled his eyes while you huffed, your sexual frustration only growing more when he tossed off his Kevlar leaving him in his tight black tshirt.
"Well the Winter Solider would have me screaming" You shrug, not noticing the way Bucky froze, now staring at you without blinking. "I think that side of you would do a better job at certain things, Buck"
"You don't want to see that side of me sweets" Bucky tried to keep his voice neutral, ignoring the way his cock was already throbbing in his pants, straining painfully against the thick fabric.
"But what if I do?" you challenged back, taking a step back when he moved forward, slowly backing you against the wall of your shared bedroom.
"Doll..." He warned, squeezing his eyes shut trying to collect himself, his fingers twitching at his sides. "That's not a good idea"
"Why not, think the Winter Soldier wouldn't be able to make me feel as good?" You added a taunt to your voice, hoping to rile him up, his chest now nearly pressing against yours, caging you against the wall.
"Is that so" Bucky tested the water slowly, still wanting to give you an out if you needed one because he wasn't going to be able to hold back once he started. You nodded, heart hammering against your chest as he took in a deep breath, his jaw clenched.
"As you wish sweets" He whispered by your ear, the tip of his cool metal knife suddenly pressing against your throat. Your eyes grew wide at the fact that he'd slipped it into his hand so swiftly, you hadn't noticed. "If you want me to stop, say Brooklyn, understand?"
"Yes" You squeaked, while he dragged it till it rested under your chin, tilting your head up to look meet his darkened eyes. Without a word, he sliced down your blouse, ripping away at the material that caught in the middle. He didn't give you a chance to speak, his hands grabbing the edges of your bra, splitting it into two before tearing your leggings into pieces next.
You were complete naked within seconds, suddenly feeling exposed under his gaze, still fully dressed himself. Bucky had seen you naked countless times, in fact you'd change in front of him without a care in the world, always giggling at the cute blush he'd have on his cheeks.
But this wasn't the same.
Not even the slightest.
He tossed you over his shoulder and threw you on the bed letting you bounce off the mattress while he stood at the edge.
"Spread your legs"
It wasn't a request. It was a demand.
Bucky looked like he wanted to devour you. This was the same man that had his head between your legs more times than you could count but he was staring at you like he'd never seen you before. You shrunk back, squeezing your thighs together at the low growl he made, grasping your ankles and splitting them apart till you were completely exposed to him, your wet folds giving away how turned on you were. He fumbled with the button of his pants, unzipping them and pulling them down just enough to free his cock, his palm and fingers swiping up your pussy to gather you slick, slathering it over his erection.
"Such a pretty baby with such a pretty pussy"
You bit back a whine as he started to jerk his cock, circling the tip with his thumb, spreading his own arousal around. He took a step back to admire you, his eyes shamelessly raking up and down till he was satisfied with his fill. He moved to lay on top of you, his nose trailing along the column of your neck, inhaling your soft scent. There was something so feral about him, you stayed frozen in place while his hands found their way to your waist, squeezing the soft flesh.
"I'll show you exactly what you've been missing out on" He nipping your earlobe before crawling off you again to throw off the rest of his clothes. "God, I've wanted this for so long"
There was no prep, no foreplay, no soft kisses and sweet words. Bucky grabbed your hips, manhandling you till your face was pressed against the mattress, his swollen cockhead prodding at your fluttering pussy. He let out a dark chuckle, swiping his cock up and down through your folds, pressing his tip against your clit.
"Bucky, fuck me" You were desperate to feel him inside you, wiggling your hips as best as you could to get him to push it in you but you were instead met with a harsh slap to your ass, the cool metal making your skin sting.
"Impatient little slut" He shook his head, taking both your wrists and twisting them behind your back, He held them in one hand while the other snaked up tp grab your hair, tugging it tight from the roots. "Beg. Beg me to fuck you"
"P-Please Bucky, want it!"
"You want who to fuck you princess, say it, tell me exactly whose cock you want to ruin you"
"Yours soldat, please, want you, please fuck me solda-FUCKK" Bucky slammed his cock into you without warning, setting in a brutal pace that had you gasping for air. His balls smacked you with each thrust, the grip he had on your wrists and hair tightening for better leverage.
"I fuck needed this" His head was thrown back, his thighs meeting the back of yours as he fucked you harder than ever before, the squelching of your pussy making a sticky, dirty mess all over him. "You have no. Fucking. Idea. how fucking hard is it every time I fuck you"
His words were punctuated with harsh thrusts, growling at the way you'd already started to flutter around him as he hit your cervix. Your jaw was slack from surprise and pleasure, pathetic moans and whimpers replacing your words.
"Do you? Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to hold back kotenok? How hard is it for me to not fuck your brains out when I'm deep in such a tight pussy? How badly I want to rail you, YA tak dolgo khotel tebya trakhnut" [I wanted to fuck you so hard for so long]
You'd never hard Bucky speak Russian, not once but his filthy mouth didn't stop as he continued to rail you, foreign curses dripping from his mouth.
"You think I'm such a gentleman don't you, huh? You remember the first time we had sex princess? how I made love to you? How slow it was, how you moaned when I put my cock in you for the first time?"
"Y-yes" Your body was slack against the bed, only held up because Bucky was gripping onto you with a bruising hold.
"I made love to you that night, didn't I. But I like to fuck baby, especially you, I've wanted to fuck this pussy for so long, ruin it all just for me"
You were suddenly flipped over again, whining when you felt empty, only to be filled right back up again seconds later when Bucky laid on his back, pulling you to straddle on top of him. He planted his feet against the mattress, not giving you a chance to move, fucking up into you, the angle of his hips rubbing against that sensitive spot inside you.
"Oh-oh f-fuckk" tears streamed down your face as he tweaked your nipples between his fingers before wrapping his hand around your throat. He muffled your sobs, slipping his thumb between your lips, shoving it down your mouth till you drooled.
"You look so pretty when you cry kotenok, is it too much?" He taunted, squeezing your throat tighter, "Don't think I haven't noticed the way you stare at my arm princess, I always knew you were a needy little slut deep down You wanted this though, hm? Wanted my fat cock to ruin you till you wouldn't be able to walk?"
"I-oh god-fe-els good I-gonna cummm" You could barely formulate sentence, practically squealing when Bucky rolled over once again, this time tossing your legs over his shoulders, his hand snaking down to rub your swollen clit.
"Gonna cum, are you princess? Who do you belong to, say it, who fucks you this good?!"
"Y-You Bu-"
A harsh slap to your cheek made your pussy clench, Bucky's blue eyes dilated to rings, a feral expression his face as he smacked your face once more making you sob out of pleasure again.
"That's not whose fucking right now you is it?! Tell me, say it"
"YOU SOLDAT" You wailed as he continued to thrust into your puffy, overstimulated pussy, getting his teeth, grabbing onto the headboard as it slammed against the wall.
"That's right kotenok, you belong to him now" Bucky let his body weight fall onto you, bringing his knees up and pounding you deep against the bed, his own pace growing sloppy, balls pulling tighter towards his body. "Gonna give you all of his cum sweets, gonna fill this slutty desperate cunt with all of my cum, that's what you want isn't it? To be a little cum dump for the Winter Soldier?"
Bucky's mind went somewhere else, back to the first time he'd seen you, still as the Soldier, back when the team first discovered him. Back when his brain was fried but you had remined seared in his mind. Back when his mission was to finish you but some part deep down inside him wanted something else he didn't understand.
"God, where were you all those nights I had to touch myself alone, when I needed something warm and tight to cum in? huh? Bet you didn't know that huh princess? didn't know that the Soldier lusted after the pretty bunny that tried to take him down?"
Your eyes grew wide at his confession, pleasure desperate to snap within seconds.
"Did you know the winter soldier wanted to fuck you bunny? Did you know he'd jerk off when no one was watching? Had no idea what was going on Bunny, just remember my cock aching so bad, leaking so damn much. Nothing made it better until I touched myself. Didn't even know what I was doing, just fucked my fist while I thought about how pretty you looked in that tac suit, came all over my sheets like a little boy"
"I-fuck-Can-can I cum soldat?" You clung onto him, whimpering at the way you had to desperately hold back from gushing all over the sheets, his words too much, you couldn't take it any more.
"Go a head and cum princess, takoy khoroshiy kotonok" [such a good little kitten] He nipped up your neck, rubbing your clit faster, moaning with you as you started to cum around his cock. His movements didn't stop, fucking you through your high till your body jolted under him, the smell of sex heavy in the room.
"S-S'too much" You hiccupped while Bucky continued to fuck you like a man with no morals.
"Too much? It's too much for you kitten? Don't worry, gonna fill you up so good baby, where, where do you want to soldat to cum?!"
"Inside!" You cried out, locking your ankles around his waist, your slurred sob turned into a guttural moan when he pinched your clit between his fingers.
"Here it comes kotenok, got so much cum for you, it's gonna drip baby, get ready, here it comes, here it fuckin' comes- OH FUUCCKKK" Bucky roared against your neck before stilling, his cock throbbing and twitching, hot seeding feeling you up till it leaked. You were practically floating, too fucked out to realize He'd gently gotten off you and cradled you close.
"Are you okay pretty girl?" Bucky cooed, snapping back into the sweetheart that he was, the switch over leaving you reeling with your eyes still crossed. "My poor baby"
Bucky chuckled at your dazed expression, cuddling you up to his chest, caressing your sweat slicked skin.
"Come back to me princess" He pulled the covers up to warm you up in his arms, resting you carefully against the pillows. "My good girl, you did so good for me angel, m'so proud of you, so good"
You whimpered in response, curling up against him, your body still jolting and pulsing.
"Was it too much angel?" His brows furrowed with concern, cupping your cheek to look at him. He kissed away the now dry tear tracks that stained your face, his thumb swiping over your hot skin.
"Never" You rasped out, your voice raw from screaming, "Was perfect Soldat"
"You're perfect angel" Bucky grinned, stroking your spine while you continued to snuggle into him, his cock already twitching at the thought of another round. "My perfect little kotenok"
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god i love being humiliated for being turned on. "ohh, you like that?" "are you actually getting off on this?" "ohh did that do something for you sweetheart?" hhhbhhbbh
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halloween is the perfect time for tricksâand treats
pairing: soft!dark friend!steve rogers x female reader
summary: steve rogers is tired of being stuck in the friendzone and when he overhears you planning to pick up a one night stand at your mutual friend's halloween party, he decides to play a little trick on youâone where you'll both be getting a treat.
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, dubcon (because steve's wearing a mask), piv sex, unprotected sex, pervy behavior (both steve and reader are huge pervs tbh), BDSM themes, masturbation (m), dirty dancing/dry humping, ass play, fingering (f receiving, vaginal and anal), finger sucking, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, filming/recording/taking photos during sex, exhibitionism, breeding kink, super possessive behavior, talk of branding, talk of being friendzoned (even tho the friendzone is not fucking real), hair-pulling, aftercare, pet names (angel) â let me know if i missed something!!
word count: 19.4k
a/n: i think this remains the longest one shot i've written, even a year later, which is kind of wild!! this one really did get away from me. but man oh man does it have everything i love, most especially golden boy steve rogers who's actually, secretly, a filthy perv. god this might be one of my most favorite steve fics i've written. so i hope y'all enjoy it too!! ⥠(also again the friendzone is bullshit and not real and don't ever let a man tell you otherwise!!!)
halloween fics masterlist
-
âGod, I need to get fucked,â you groaned in a hushed voice in the living room of your friendâs apartment. The quiet that followed indicated you were talking on the phone, the soft tinny sound of someone else speaking reaching even to the hallway.
At your words, the apartmentâs owner, Steve Rogers, paused just out of sight in the hallway, shamelessly listening in on your conversation, his dick twitching in his pants at the desperate need in your voice. Heâd been friends with you for a couple years and, almost the entire time, heâd been trying to figure out how to make a move on you without being creepy.
Steve liked youâa lot. He liked spending time with you, he liked listening to you laugh and he liked how you seemed to feel safe with him. But he wanted more, and the things he wanted to do to youâŠHe thought youâd shy away if he said any of them out loud in your presence. The problem was, he couldnât tell if you liked him the way he liked you, or if you thought of him as just a friend. Youâd never told him you didnât have feelings for him, but youâd never hinted at wanting more either. And youâd dated other guys, but youâd never dated him.
No, Steve thought, you just tortured him and played innocent. You cuddled up to him on his couch, acting all innocent as you pressed your tits into his side and rested your head on his chest while you watched movies together. Youâd ask him to spoon you sometimes, your soft ass pressing against his lap, just laying there while Steveâs cock would get hard for you. Heâd lay there until you fell asleep, your sweet breaths puffing out against his bicep, then shove his hand in his pants and tug on his cock, thinking about slipping his fingers between your legs to find you wet and willing for him. Heâd imagine fucking you in your sleep, sliding into your warm, wet hole and filling you up with his cock. Sometimes heâd picture coming deep inside your pussy without you waking up, claiming you while you were none the wiser, and other times heâd imagine you waking up and the look on your face when you realized your friend was fucking you. Heâd come in his boxers like a fucking teenager with you sleeping in his arms completely unaware.
Steveâs friends had tried to help him get out of the friendzoneâBucky Barnes and Sam Wilson had plenty of suggestions for how to see if youâd ever think of Steve as more than just a friend. But Steve knew he had to play his hand exactly right or heâd risk coming off like a creep, and girls like you didnât date creeps. So heâd bided his time, heâd kept his need on a tight leash, taking what he could get when what he really wanted was to pound into you with his cock. But he was getting frustrated and he didnât know how much longer he could hold himself back, not when he knew you were lounging on his couch talking about how much you needed to get fucked.
âI mean, Steveâs hot as fuck and allâŠâ you trailed off in the other room and Steve perked up at the sound of his name.
Sure, youâd complimented him before. When heâd taken you as his date to his bossâs wedding, youâd told him how handsome heâd looked in a suit while you smoothed your hands over his chest. It had taken all his self control not to yank you against him so you could feel how hard you made him from just those small touches. Instead, heâd thanked you politely and offered his arm, like the gentleman heâd convinced you he was.
But, Steve realized, youâd never called him hot before. Heâd never known you thought about him like that and pride bloomed in his chest at the compliment. At the same time, something warned him he wasnât going to like how you finished your sentence. He was right.
âI justâI donât know if he can really fuck me, yâknow?ïżœïżœ you muttered into your phone, clearly trying to keep your voice down so he wouldnât hear. He was meant to be grabbing some snacks for your movie night, and they shook in Steveâs hand as he got more and more irritated by your words. âHeâs a gentleman, he doesnât exactly give off âIâll fuck you like a slutâ energy.â
Frustration blinded Steveâs vision for a moment. That was why youâd never given him a chance? You thought he couldnât fuck you properly? You thought he was too much of a gentleman to treat you like a slut? Heâd never known about this side of you. Even with how close youâd become as friends, youâd kept it carefully hidden from Steve. And heâd kept his own dark desires hidden as well, too worried theyâd scare you off before he had a chance to show you how good you could be together. But you were just as depraved as he was.
Frustration morphed into relief and then elation. If you wanted to be treated like a filthy slut, Steve thought, then heâd show you exactly what he was capable of. Having made up his mind to prove you wrong, he almost stormed into the living room and ripped the phone from your hands to bend you over and fuck you into the couch, but your next words stopped him.
âSamâs Halloween party it is, then,â you said, finality in your voice like youâd come to a decision. Steve already knew it didnât have anything to do with him. Youâd written him off as an unacceptable partner, but heâd show you how wrong you were, making a decision of his own. âYeah Iâll send you pics of my costumeâitâs so slutty, itâll be perfect.â You giggled, the sound shooting straight to Steveâs cock.
He gripped his hardening dick through his pants, stroking himself idly to the sound of your voice while a plan formed in his head. It hadnât taken him long to piece together your idea to pick up some guy at Samâs Halloween party, and Steve decided he could use that to his advantage. Besides, he wanted to see exactly how slutty your Halloween costume wasâand he wanted to see just how much of a pathetic, needy little slut you could be under the right circumstances. Steve let go of his dick, using his hand to get his phone out and order the perfect mask for his plan.
After all, what kind of friend would he be if he let you fuck some random guy? You could pick up someone who was dangerous, who didnât respect your boundariesâor worse, someone who couldnât satisfy you. Steve knew he could satisfy you, he reasoned, slipping his phone back in his pocket and returning his hand to his dick. He jerked his cock harder in the hallway outside his living room, listening to you laugh on the other side of the wall.
Really, he thought, it was his responsibility as your friend to make sure you were safe, to make sure you were fucked by someone you could trust. Who could you trust better than your good friend Steve Rogers? He stroked his cock harder to the sound of your voice, imagining you on your knees and staring up at him with your eyes wide while you sucked his length into your throat. He came to the thought of coating your pretty face with his come, your giggles echoing in his ears as he spilled himself inside his jeans.
As he turned away and silently padded back down the hallway, heading toward his room to change, Steve only grew more confident in his plan. He knew he could satisfy the filthy little slut in you and then, if you let him, heâd finally have an answer to how you felt about him. So what if he had to trick you into it? It was Halloween, the perfect time for tricksâand treats.
-~-~-
You walked into Sam Wilsonâs wild Halloween party on a mission, determination in your strut and conviction in the tilt of your chin. Ever since telling your best friends Yelena Belova and Kate Bishop about your need to get fucked and all three of you deciding Samâs Halloween party was the best place to find a guy to satisfy you, it was all you could think about.
After talking to them on the phone while you were at your friend Steve Rogersâ place for a movie nightâand waiting for him to come back with snacks, which took foreverâyou were worried youâd leave a wet spot on his couch from thinking about being bent over and railed in the woods behind Samâs house. You didnât, thankfully, since you werenât sure how Steve wouldâve reacted. He was such a polite gentleman, he probably wouldâve pretended he didnât see it. You couldnât imagine your blond-haired and blue-eyed golden boy of a friend shoving your face in the wet spot and fucking you hard enough to hurt as punishment for getting his couch messy.
Well, you could imagine it, and the thought made you wet as fuck, but the problem was you didnât think heâd ever actually do it. And that was exactly why you werenât looking to your best guy friend to satisfy your need to get fucked. Steve seemed like he would be a little too vanilla in bed for your tastes and you didnât have the energy to spend weeks and months introducing him to what you liked, what you needed. Better to find some random guy whoâd fuck you filthy and then fuck off in the morning.
Pushing aside thoughts of Steve and how you wished he was just as wickedly depraved as you, you refocused on Samâs Halloween party. Your eyes scanned what you could see of the first floor of the house from just inside the front door, looking for someone to catch your eye. The foyer opened up into a large living room where all the furniture had been pushed against the walls, making room for a DJ table blasting loud music and a big dance floor that was already crowded with people dressed in all kinds of costumes.
There were some fun creative ones, playing on the yearâs biggest memes, then there were the guys who put in barely any effort, dressing like a lumberjack or just getting a mask from a Halloween store. And, of course, there were plenty of girls dressed in all manner of slutty costumes. Not that you were judging anyone for dressing sluttyâyour costume was literally lingerie.
You wore a little white silk cami dress youâd found in the lingerie section of an online shop, the neckline dipped low and the bottom hem barely covered your ass. To turn it into an angel costume, youâd paired it with white patent leather mary jane heels, some small fluffy white wings strapped to your shoulders and a headband lifting a feathery halo above your head. Both Yelena and Kate had wolf-whistled when youâd finished getting ready, assuring you it would be easy to pick up a guy at Samâs party.
Before youâd found anyone in the living room that you thought might do the trick, Yelena and Kate each looped an arm through yours and led you down the hallway to the kitchen at the back of the house. It was crowded, but not nearly as bad as the living room. You and your friends made a beeline for the host, who was dressed like a kingâcomplete with crown and scepterâand holding court like one in front of a group of girls dressed like slutty nurses and sailors.
Sam greeted you and your friends warmly, kissing each of you on the cheek as he hugged you. After youâd hugged Sam, you turned to Buckyâtaking a short moment to appreciate the way he filled out his army costumeâhugging and kissing him on the cheek as well.
âWhereâs Steve?â you asked, half-shouting in Buckyâs ear to be heard over the thumping music in the living room. You had to brace a hand on his shoulder, going up on tiptoes to make sure he heard you.
Bucky smirked as you leaned in close, giving him a perfect view down your dress, and he wasnât above sneaking a peek. âHeâs running a little late, but heâll be here soon, doll,â Bucky answered, turning his head so his stubbled jaw rubbed against the soft skin of your cheek, all the while eying your tits without being too obvious about it.
You shivered at the bristly feel of Buckyâs rough stubble against your skin, ignoring the rushing thrill it sent through your body to pull away and pout up at him. âBut then whoâs going to hold my phone while I dance?â you asked in a teasing voice, holding up your phone and gesturing at your dress to show you had no where to put it.
Heat flamed in Buckyâs eyes as his gaze raked down your body, taking in your skimpy dress that clung to all your curves and left your legs bare from thigh to ankle. But when he looked back up at you, it was gone so fast you werenât sure if youâd seen it or not. Before you could decide if Bucky had really been checking you out, he snagged your phone and slipped it into the pocket of his army pants. âIâve got it, doll, Iâll give it to Steve when he gets here,â he said, giving you a charming smile.
âThank you!â you half-yelled, going up on tiptoe again to plant another kiss on Buckyâs rugged cheek, pressing your hand on his firm chest to keep your balance. For a moment, you lingered. Bucky smelled like fresh winter air and beer, the scent enticing on his skin. Your nipple grazed against his arm, sending a little shiver down your spine as you pulled away sharply.
When you caught Buckyâs eye, his blue gaze burned with heat that made you feel hot and flustered. âDonât mention it, doll,â Bucky said, a smirk curving his full lips. His tongue poked out and traced his lower lip and you didnât realize you were so focused on the movement until one of your best friends wrenched your attention away.
Yelena tugged on your arm, yelling, âSHOTS!â in your face as she pulled you away from Bucky. You laughed, joining your friends at the kitchen island. Sam had poured each of you a shot of tequila and you happily reached for one of the little plastic shot glasses.
Bucky pressed against your back, much closer than was technically appropriate between friendsâclose enough you could feel a bulge in the front of his pantsâand reached around you to grab a shot of his own. You shivered, feeling the heat and hardness of your friendâs body through the thin satin of your dress and wondered if you should abandon your plan to find some random guy and fuck Bucky instead. He had an edge to him Steve didnât and you wondered if that translated to him being able to give you what you needed.
But then Sam was raising his shot glass, everyone else following his lead, and you looked around at your group of friends. You realized if you fucked Bucky, there may have been a better chance of you getting the type of sex you wanted, but it would impact the rest of your friend group and you werenât willing to risk it. You werenât even sure Bucky could fuck you like thatâmaybe he was even more vanilla than Steve. Those were good enough reasons not to press back into Bucky, but if you were honest with yourself, the real reason was that deep down you knew if you fucked either Bucky or Sam, itâd ruin your chances with Steve forever, and you didnât want that. But you didnât have time to unpack that thought when you were surrounded by friends at a Halloween party.
Your attention refocused on your friends just in time for Sam to finish whatever toast heâd been giving, âLetâs party hard, fuck hard and have a happy Halloween!â Everyone laughed and you clinked glasses with Yelena and Kate before downing your shot. Youâd already started pre-gaming back at your own apartment with your friends, so the tequila went down easily, settling deep in your stomach and spreading warmth through your limbs.
âAnother!â Thor Odinson yelled, joining your group and snatching the bottle of tequila from Sam before pouring more shots.
You held out your cup for more alongside Kate and Yelena, and you all downed that round together without waiting for another toast. Thor and Sam cheered you three on, then threw back their own shots. The alcohol created a happy glow in your chest that had your limbs loosening, but when you held your cup out for another, a warm palm slid around your side to your stomach, pulling you back against a broad body, your angel wings crushing against a hard chest, and out of reach of Thorâs pouring.
âDonât you think you should take it easy, doll?â Bucky asked in a low voice next to your ear so only you could hear. âYou just got here.â He reached around you with his other arm, plucking your shot glass out of your fingers and tossing it down on the island.
Frowning while your friends did a third shot, you turned in Buckyâs arms, purposefully brushing your ass against the bulge in his pants to torture him for taking your cup away. You pouted up at him. âIâm just having fun!â you insisted, leaning further into his chest and giving him your best wide-eyed puppy dog look. Your hands landed on Buckyâs shoulders and you couldnât help but notice how broad and strong they felt under your fingers.
Bucky grinned as you pressed up against him. It wasnât the reaction heâd been expecting, but he wasnât going to complain when you pressed your soft tits against his hard chest. His arm had settled around your lower back, just above the swell of your ass and he wondered if he could get away with a little grope before Steve showed up. He was still debating it when he ducked his head so he could speak into your ear. âIâm just looking out for you, doll,â he said, innocence in his voice. âDonât want you to be a drunk, sloppy mess before Steve even gets here.â
Your friendâs deep voice rumbling through your chest and the feel of his breath on your neck sent electricity shooting down your spine, settling deep in your core. You knew youâd already decided not to fuck Bucky, but you couldnât help yourself from melting against himâhe just felt so good. Too distracted by dragging your palms down from his shoulders to his arms, practically feeling him up through his army costume, you didnât even wonder why Bucky wouldnât want you getting too drunk before Steve showed up.
A sharp smack on your ass shocked you out of your lust-drunkâand a little bit real-drunkâstupor. With a gasp, you looked up at Bucky in surprise. He wore a smug grin, no hint of remorse in his shining blue eyes for spanking you. And, if you were honest with yourself, you liked it. You wondered if you should reconsider Bucky as a potential one night stand or fuck buddy. Maybe itâd be worth itâŠ
Before you could come to a decision, Bucky eased you away from his body. âGo dance, doll,â he ordered in a quiet, commanding tone that had heat gathering between your legs.
Tongue-tied by your reaction to your friend, you nodded dumbly and turned back to your friends. You swallowed hard as you tugged on their arms. âTime to dance!â you yelled over the music, proud of yourself when your voice came out loud and strong. Yelena and Kate both screamed happily, waving to Sam, Thor and Bucky before winding through the crowd to the living room.
You shook off your attraction to Bucky, reminding yourself he was off limits unless you wanted Steve to be furious with you. And you didnât want that. Probably. Unless that was the key to getting what you wanted from him⊠You pushed that thought aside as you linked hands with your friends, dancing in a circle on the edge of the crowd. All the while, you kept an eye out to see if there was anyone at the party who looked like they could fuck you the way you needed.
-~-~-
Back in the kitchen, Bucky watched you dance until Steve walked in through the back door of Samâs house. The brown-haired man dragged his eyes from your ass and looked to his best friend, easily recognizing the costume heâd helped Steve assemble. Steve lifted the mask of his costume up, setting it on top of his head as he beelined through the kitchen to Bucky.
âYour girlâs already here,â Bucky said by way of a greeting, nodding to the living room where you were dancing to the thumping beat with your friends. You, Yelena and Kate were still on the edge of the crowd, in full view of the kitchen. Your hips swayed rhythmically to the beat as both men watched.
You hadnât been kidding that night in his apartment, Steve realized, your costume was slutty. The way the bottom hem of your dress fluttered while you danced, revealing glimpses of your plush ass, had his cock thickening in his pants. He wanted to bend you over where you stood and shove his cock deep in your pussy, claiming you for everyone to see while you squealed and squirmed under him. See if you call him a gentleman after that.
Shaking himself from his thoughts, Steve turned back to his best friend, who held out a phone for him. âShe gave me this to hold on to,â Bucky explained and for a moment, jealousy flared hot in Steveâs chest at the thought of you letting anyone but him hold onto your phone. Bucky mustâve sensed the shift in Steve because he was quick to explain. âDonât worry, man, I told her Iâd give it to you as soon as I saw you.â
That helped to soothe the jealousy a bit, along with the knowledge that Bucky knew better than to make a move on you. Steve wasnât oblivious, heâd seen the way his best friend looked at you sometimes, and heâd wanted to get to the party before you to ensure you didnât get any ideas about Bucky. But he knew his best friend wouldnât encourage or take you up on any offer that might piss off Steve. Bucky was a bit bigger, but Steve was tenacious in a fight and he knew he could beat his friendâs ass if he needed to prove a pointâthe point being that you belonged to him.
âThanks man,â Steve muttered to his friend, his eyes finding you again in the crowd. As you spun slowly where you danced, he got a better look at your angel costumeâif it could even be called that. The soft shiny material of your dress clung to your waist and the curves of your tits, barely covering your ass, making your legs look long and leaving them on display for everyone to see.
When you twirled again, he watched your tits jiggle in the top and bit back a groan at the realization you werenât wearing a bra. Were you wearing panties under that little dress, he wondered, or were you dancing on the edge of flashing your pussy to every guy in the room with each twist of your hips? What a fucking slut, Steve thought, sexual frustration and affection creating an intoxicating haze in his mind. The urge to make you his slut was almost overwhelming.
Steve was dragged out of his possessive thoughts by Bucky pressing a beer into his hand. The blond grunted a thanks to his best friend as he continued watching you dance until your friends dragged you deeper into the crowd and you disappeared from view. When he turned to Bucky, he found his best friendâs eyes following you through the throng of dancers. Steve knocked his shoulder against his friend to get Buckyâs attention.
The brunet shrugged unapologetically, taking a swig from his own beer before speaking low so only Steve could hear. âSheâs needy tonight, Stevie,â he said, glancing around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation before going on. âPractically humped my leg when I took her drink awayâfor you, mind you, so she wouldnât be too drunk,â he added quickly before Steve could jump to the wrong conclusion that Bucky was trying to make a move on you. Bucky pointed a finger at his best friend and raised his eyebrows. âYou sure youâre gonna be able to handle her?â
Steve smirked, not letting himself be anything less than self-assured that youâd end the night begging him to let you out of the friendzone. He couldnât wait to watch you come apart on his cock, bent over with your face down and ass up while he pounded your pussy until you were crying through your release. Although heâd clued Bucky in on his plan to fuck you, he hadnât told the brunet everything he had in mind for you, so he could understand his friendâs concern to a certain extent, but that didnât stop Steve from snorting derisively.
âI can handle her,â he answered confidently, flicking his gaze to his best friendâs. âWhy, you want a piece of her?â Steve had never confronted Bucky with the way his friend looked at you, and he was curious to see what Bucky would say when presented with the option.
Bucky gave his friend a long look, trying to work out if the question was a trap, but after a moment he threw back the rest of his beer and shrugged, deciding he didnât give a fuck either way. âYeah, man, you know Iâd be more than happy to volunteer if all sheâs looking for is some easy, no strings attached dick,â he answered honestly. âBut I know sheâs yoursâbut you gotta take whatâs yours first, before you go around offering to share, Stevie,â Bucky shot a meaningful look at Steve before he slapped his blond friend on the shoulder and stepped away to grab another beer.
Steve absorbed what his friend had said while he watched the crowd of dancers, catching sight of your halo and angel wings between the shifting bodies. He made a mental note that Bucky was interested in you and he didnât seem to mind sharing as long as he had Steveâs blessing. The blond was in the middle of figuring out what he could do with that information when he caught sight of you in the mass of people on the dance floor.
You were dancing with some guy dressed as a devil, grinding your ass back against his lap, arms looped around his neck in a way that pushed your tits out obscenely, your nipples peaked and poking through the shimmery white dress you wore. Angel wings hung from your shoulders in direct contrast to the filthy way you moved. As Steve watched, the guy slid his hands from your hips down to your thighs and Steve growled at seeing someoneâsome random strangerâtouching what was his without permission.
Steve finished his beer and fixed his Halloween costume mask back over his face before pushing off the kitchen counter heâd been leaning against. He stalked through the crowded kitchen with a purposeful stride, diving into the crush of bodies in the living room. With relentless intent, he moved toward you with the singular focus of getting to you and stealing you away from that fucking devil guy.
-~-~-
Your pussy throbbed to the beat of the pounding music and your arousal was slicking your thighs as you moved in the arms of a guy dressed like a devil, your wetness having already soaked through your tiny little thong. You were horny, needy, desperate, and the feel of grinding on a guy on the dance floor was only making you hotter. His hands were sliding down from your waist to your thighs, teasing the bottom of your dress, and you moaned softly, pressing your ass back into the hardness in his pants.
He didnât seem that big by your judgement, but you were hoping you were wrongâthough you still hadnât decided whether to risk it and find a dark corner to get better acquainted with what he was working with. Yet. But then he had to go and kill your mood.
âDid it hurt when you fell from heaven, baby?â the devil asked in your ear.
Something about the guyâs voice gave you an immediate ick and your face screwed up in a disgusted look as you shuddered, feeling like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over your desire. You didnât even realize you had such a thing for voices until this guyâs completely turned you off. It didnât help that heâd chosen probably the most cliched pickup line he possibly couldâveâzero points for matching it to your costume.
When you looked around, ignoring the question and looking for your friends to have them help you escape, your gaze landed on a man off to the side. He stood still in the throng of dancers, standing out in the crowd like a lighthouse standing sentry amidst a thrashing storm. Even though you couldnât see the manâs eyes, you could feel his intent gaze on your body.
The man was tall and dressed like Ghostface from Scream, but instead of the cheap black robe most guys wore with the hooded mask, he donned a black t-shirt that pulled deliciously tight over a broad chest and shoulders, the sleeves stretched to the point of nearly ripping across his bulging biceps. Your eyes trailed down, finding his t-shirt was tucked into black jeans slung low on a trim waist, the bottom of his pants disappearing into black combat boots. His arms were bare up to the wrist, showing off muscular forearms that were dusted with light brown hair, wearing what looked like black latex gloves on his hands. The overall effect had heat singing through your body, settling deep in your core and making you wet all over again.
The devil at your back either didnât care or didnât notice you hadnât responded to him, and his hands started to inch higher on your thighs, slipping under the hem of your dress and making you shudder in revulsion, an outraged frown marring your face. You were about to turn around and push the devil guy off you, but Ghostface was quicker, grabbing your hand and pulling you into his chest while he pressed his palm against the devilâs face and shoved him away from you.
âWhat the fuck!â the devil shouted indignantly.
You couldnât be bothered to even look back at the guy, too busy plastering yourself against Ghostface, your front flush against his strong chest, your nipples rubbing the inside of your satin dress teasingly. You shivered and pressed yourself harder against him, your arms winding around his neck and clinging to him while your hips swayed to the beat of the music.
Ghostface made a shooing gesture at the devil and the other guy stalked off in a huff, disappearing in the crowd. You barely noticed him leave, especially as the feel of Ghostfaceâs gloved hands smoothing down your lower back to your ass lit a fire beneath your skin. He shoved his knee between your thighs and hiked you up on his leg until you were grinding your wet pussy down on his muscular thigh. He bent his knees, working his hips in slow rolls to the thumping bass.
You let him manhandle you onto his leg and then leaned on him, draping your body over his and grinding to the beat. Pressing your face into his shoulder, you took a deep breath, inhaling his scentâwoodsy and earthy. Something about it seemed familiar, but you couldnât place it. Ignoring why it smelled familiar, you let Ghostfaceâs scent lull you into a sense of safety you didnât quite understand.
All around you, other people danced, but Ghostface worked your bodies to the music in a way that felt more like fucking than dancing. In no time at all, you were breathless and panting with need, clinging to his shoulders as your knees wobbled and slick covered your thighs, no doubt soaking into his pants. But though you wanted to spread your legs wider and grind harder until you came all over this strangerâs thigh, you forced yourself to hold back that slutty impulse. Instead, you made yourself spin around in his arms until your ass settled against his lap so you could get a hint at what he was working with and whether itâd be worth it to choose him to fuck you.
A sharp gasp caught in your throat as you felt Ghostfaceâs massive bulge twitch against your ass. He didnât even feel fully hard and he was bigger than any other guy youâd fucked. He felt like he was almost as big as Steveânot that you knew how big your friendâs cock was. But heâd get hard while you spooned sometimes. Youâd lay in his arms, silently praying heâd make a move, but he never did, and youâd fall asleep wet and frustrated, feeling Steveâs cock pressing against your ass. The feel of it was burned into your memory.
If Ghostface was anywhere near as big as your friend, you just had to fuck him. Before youâd even fully made your decision, your ass was grinding back against him indecently. You moaned softly and lifted your arms up to wrap around the back of his neck, fingers digging into the cheap fabric of the maskâs hood. Your back arched in a perfect curve, your angel wings crushed against his chest, your tits thrust forward, nipples poking through your thin dress.
Ghostfaceâs gloved hands gripped your hips roughly, fingers digging into your soft flesh hard enough to make you gasp again. The dull pain of his grip was quickly overshadowed by the heat of your arousal as he rubbed his thick bulge against your ass. âLike what you feel, angel?â the man asked, his voice low and rough in your ear.
Again, something about the manâs voice sparked a sense of familiarity deep in your brain, but you brushed it off as simple chemistry. You were so turned on by the stranger, you were imagining things that werenât there, wanting him to be someone he wasnât. Still, he had you so hot and bothered youâd be an idiot not to choose him to be the one to fuck youâso you made your decision.
Tilting your head back against his shoulder so your mouth was closer to his ear, you let out a low, wanton moan. âI like it a lot, Mr. Ghostface,â you rasped in a husky, needy tone, grinding your ass harder against his bulge. You could hear him breathing harshly through the mask and it only turned you on more.
âFuck,â he grunted, voice distorted through the mask but deliciously deep, sending a shiver down your spine to settle heavily in your core. âYouâre a dirty fucking slut, arenâtcha, angel?â he asked, sliding his gloved hands down from your hips to your thighs. When you nodded against his shoulder, he groped your soft flesh in an almost punishing grip, fingers teasing the insides of your thighs. âAre you wearing any panties under this slutty little dress?â he asked, his hands sliding up under the hem until the tips of his gloved fingers were mere centimeters away from your dripping slit. âOr were you planning on flashing this pussy to all the men here until one snapped and bent you over, fucking you in the middle of the room for the whole party to see?â
His filthy words were like electric currents shooting straight to your throbbing core, your clit pulsing with need as he spoke to you with such vulgar language in that deep, degrading tone. Ghostface was exactly what youâd wanted to find at Samâs Halloween party, a man who would fuck you like a slut, and you were almost giddy enough to turn around and jump him in the middle of the dance floor. You managed to hold yourself back, turning around in his arms until you were facing him again. âWhy donât you take me upstairs and find out for yourself,â you challenged, a smirk curling the edge of your mouth.
Through the black mesh of the Ghostface maskâs eyes, you could see the manâs gaze sparkle with hunger and though you couldnât be sure since his face was hidden, you felt certain he was grinning. He ducked his head so he could speak next to your ear. âI have a better idea, angel,â he growled, sending more shivers skating down your spine.
Before you could ask what he meant, Ghostface grabbed your hand, threading his fingers through yours and tugging you toward the sliding door that lead to the houseâs back deck. It was a warm night for October, but there was still a chill in the air and your outfit was incredibly skimpy, so when you stepped outside, a shudder wracked your body. You clung to Ghostfaceâs hand, winding yourself around his arm to try to steal some of his warmth.
He glanced down at you and you thought you caught a glimpse of his eyes shining happily at the sight of you clinging to him, but he looked away to navigate through the crowd on the deck. He didnât stop to talk to anyone, just tugged you along with him as he walked to the edge, then down the stairs to the yard. There were fewer people milling about, but some were circled around a fire pit. Ghostface ignored them, leading you down the sloping grass hill, holding your hand firmly so you didnât slip on the damp grass. The sounds of the party, the thumping bass from inside and the chatter of people by the fire pit, grew more distant the farther you got away from the house.
When he walked to the edge of the tree line where Samâs property ended and the woods began, you dug your heels into the soft earth beneath your feet and pulled the stranger to a stop. Even with how horny you were for this man, you had some sense of self-preservation and it was telling you not to walk into the woods with a complete stranger whose face you hadnât even seen. âWhere are we going?â you asked, a little bit of fear leaking through your voice.
Ghostface glanced back at the house and when you followed his gaze, you saw Bucky standing on the back deck, leaning on the wooden railing, smoking a cigarette. Though it was too far away to really tell, you had the feeling Bucky was watching you and the man. If you screamed for help, you were sure heâd come running, but you hadnât decided if that was necessary just yet. Tingles of desire were mixing with the little shivers of fear and creating an intoxicating mix in your body that you didnât want to give up unless you had to.
âBefore we get started,â Ghostface began in a low, rumbling voice. âDo you want a safe word?â
His words drew your attention back to the man in the Ghostface mask, and you couldnât help but notice he didnât answer your question. His voice distracted you, though. Without the loud music and crush of bodies, that sense of familiarity sparked stronger at the sound, just like when youâd heard his voice inside and when youâd smelled him. You tilted your head to the side as you considered him.
When you didnât answer, his shoulders stiffened like he was afraid he was losing you. âPick a safe word, angel, and Iâll stop whatever weâre doing if you use it,â he urged, a thread of desperation in his tone.
His voice niggled at your brain. You knew you recognized it, you just werenât sure who it belonged to. But your curiosity was piqued and you were still so fucking horny, so you threw caution to the wind. Even if he didnât respect your safe word, Bucky was within earshot if you screamed. So you gave him a word. âSidney,â you said, lips quirking at your cleverness while you stared at the Ghostface mask.
His shoulders relaxed and you could hear the grin in his voice as he responded, âSidney, it is.â He held his black gloved hand out to you.
For a moment, you just looked at it. Your eyes trailed up his muscled arm to the Ghostface mask and then over his shoulder to the pitch black woods beyond. You werenât sure what he had planned for you, but the way your slit leaked at the thought of being fucked in the woods had you making a decision. With one last glance over your shoulder, finding Bucky still standing on the deck, you slid your fingers into his hand and let him tug you into the deep, dark shadows of the trees.
It was even colder in the woods, and you pressed close to Ghostfaceâs muscled arm as he tromped through the fallen leaves and underbrush. He didnât make you walk far, maybe a minute or two, until he came to a stop in a little clearing, the trees overhead thinned enough for the full moon to shine down on the forest floor. Laid out over the ground was a thick blanket, or maybe a couple of layered blankets, and they looked clean, like theyâd only been put there earlier that day.
When you looked up at Ghostface, you caught that look in his eye through the mesh, like he was grinning beneath the mask. âWeâll have more privacy out here, angel,â he said, his voice low and rumbly and a little muffled. âSo you can scream as loud as you want.â
Maybe you shouldâve been scared, maybe you shouldâve used your safe word or tried to run back to the party, but at his sinful words, you pressed closer. âYou gonna fuck me hard enough to scream, Mr. Ghostface?â you asked in a teasing voice, your lips plumped up in a pout.
âOh, angel,â he growled, tugging you around to his front. He walked you back until you were pressed up against the thick trunk of a tree, your fluffy feathered angel wings protecting your shoulders from the bark. With a rough grip on your thigh, he lifted one of your legs up to hook around his waist, stepping in between and pinning you to the tree, the massive bulge in his pants pressed to your dripping core. You shivered at the feel of him, wondering for the first time whether it would fit. âIâm gonna fuck you until you scream yourself raw.â
With that sinful promise hanging in the air and stealing all clever comebacks from your lips, Ghostface reached down and shoved your dress up around your hips until your tiny white thong was on display. The meager scrap of cloth was the only thing protecting your wet little slit from his eyes. He let out a deep, guttural groan at the sight. âFuck, angel, I donât think you could even count these as panties,â he muttered, his black gloved fingers tracing the side of the garment. In a quick movement, he twisted his fingers around the thin fabric and, with a sharp yank, he easily ripped the thong away from your body.
A harsh gasp was pulled from your lips and you jerked in Ghostfaceâs arms at the feel of your panties being ripped off you. No one had ever done that to you before and it drove you a little wild, seeing the way this manâs muscles had bulged in his arm as he tore through your panties. More desire leaked from your slit and slid down to your ass. As Ghostface pulled your ruined panties away from your body, the fabric clinging obscenely to your soaking wet folds, it was replaced with the cold air of the night. Goosebumps raised all over your body as the October chill caressed your drenched pussy and slick thighs, highlighting exactly how messy you were already.
But a moment later, you couldnât care less about the cold because Ghostface was pressing his gloved fingers between your folds, sliding them against your slippery skin and circling your clit. Your hips bucked against his hand, trying to take his fingers inside your grasping channel. You were so wet and needy and you felt pathetically empty, every cell in your body demanding you be filled and fucked, but the man just tsked at you.
âSuch a needy fucking slut,â he gritted out like he was clenching his teeth while he played with your pussy. His head was tilted down like he couldnât get enough of the sight of his fingers sliding between your folds, and the way your body responded to his touch. âSo fucking wet and warmâthis cunt is begging for cock, isnât it angel?â
âGod, yes,â you answered on an exhale, your voice breathless with need. âNeed your cock.â You tried to reach between your bodies and tug on his belt to slide it open, but Ghostface batted your hands away.
He gripped your face in his free hand while the other teased your pussy, bringing his masked face close to yours like he was getting an up close look at your expression. âHmm, no,â he murmured, pinning you against the tree with his hand on your face. âYou donât sound nearly desperate enough just yet, angel,â he said and you could hear the evil smirk in his voice.
Your protest died on your lips as he let go of your face, shifting your leg up his waist so he could dig something out of his pocket. âI think we should record this, donât you?â he asked, but your pleasure-soaked brain was taking too long to understand his meaning. He pulled out a phone and opened the camera, flicking the flash on. The bright light shone in your eyes for a second before he moved it down your body to where his glove-covered fingers were still teasing your pussy.
Awareness prickled across your skin at the realization he was taking a video of what he was doing to you. It occurred to you that you could use your safe word, but when you looked down, you could see his fingers playing with your pussy on the screen and it looked hot, the sight making your clit throb in pleasure. You liked being recorded, liked the way it made you feel desired and on display. Rolling your hips against Ghostfaceâs fingers, you watched the motion on the camera and groaned, head thrown back against the tree.
After teasing you for what felt like forever, Ghostface finally slid one of his thick fingers into your tight hole, making you moan loudly. Your fingers scrabbled at the tree, trying to cling to something while he finally pressed inside your pussy. âYouâre gonna beg so sweetly for my cock, angel,â he promised in a harsh, almost distracted voice as he stared down at the camera, watching his finger slide in and out of your channel on the phone. âAnd I want to save it so we can rewatch it over and over and over again.â He punctuated his words with short, quick thrusts of his finger, making you cry out.
âPlease,â you begged, needing more than one finger, wanting to feel stretched out by his cock, but unable to form the words as he fucked you. It was so good but not nearly enough, and yet, you could feel an orgasm building slowly in your core.
âFuck, youâre soaked, angel,â Ghostface groaned, fucking you harder with his finger. âCan you hear the sounds your pussy is making for me while I fingerfuck your sloppy wet cunt?â
Of course you could hear it. âYes,â you groaned, a little humiliation mixing with the ruthless pleasure he was giving you as your body told him exactly how turned on you were. Even with your heart pounding in your chest and Ghostfaceâs harsh breathing in his mask, you could hear the lewd sounds of his finger pumping in and out of your dripping hole. He fucked you faster, and the sounds only grew louder, his palm slapping against your wet folds, the heel of his hand striking your clit with sharp little smacks. âMore, please,â you begged on a strangled sob.
âMmm, thatâs it angel, beg for me,â he urged, shoving a second finger in your pussy, drawing a ragged moan from you. Your head thrashed side to side against the tree trunk at your back, your hips writhing against his fingers.Â
âPlease, please, please,â you chanted in rhythm with his thrusts, his two fingers almost enough but not quite. You could feel yourself hurtling toward the edge, you just needed a little more.
Ghostface seemed to know exactly what you needed and when he stuffed a third finger in your tight hole, making you stretch around him, your back arched and the most debauched sound youâd ever heard left your own lips. He made a pleased sound.
âGood girl, angel, take my fingers,â he praised, his voice raspy and muffled through the Ghostface mask. âNeed to stretch you out so youâre ready for my cock,â he continued, almost as if to himself. When you glanced at him, his face was pointed down, like his eyes were transfixed on the sight of his three fingers pumping in and out of your tight channel on the phone screen. âDonât wanna hurt my pretty little fucktoy before Iâve even had a chance to use her properly.â
âOh god, fuck,â you groaned at his filthy words and the way he was so consumed with your body. Your desire flared hot at the way he talked about you like you werenât even there. Something about being so thoroughly used hit you with a staggering wave of pleasure. All of a sudden, you were on the precipice of your release. âGonna come,â you murmured. Through slitted eyes, you tracked the movement of the cell phone flash panning up your body to your face. You let your need shine through your expression, eyes looking into the light as you begged, âPlease make me come.â
âThatâs my girl, begging like such a good fucking slut,â he praised, fucking you harder with his fingers and drawing more moans from your lips, one tumbling after the other. âCome all over this strangerâs fingers like the filthy fucking slut you are.â
Something about the way he said the word âstrangerâ had alarm bells going off in your head, but they were distant with your mind too consumed by the pleasure he was giving you. You were too focused on chasing your release, a whine rising in your throat as your arms braced against the tree and you fucked yourself on his fingers. You were so close.
âTake my mask off,â Ghostface grunted, but you couldnât hear him over your moaning and panting. So he tried again, his voice louder and firmer with the command. âTake my mask off, angelâI want you to know exactly whose fingers youâre coming on."
The alarm bells were louder now, trying to warn you about something, but you still couldnât be bothered to care too much. With fumbling, eager hands, you curled your fingers around the edges of the Ghostface mask. You pulled the mask and hood off, letting it drop to the forest floor with a muffled thud. A loud, sharp gasp left your lips before it even landed on the ground.
âSTEVE!?â you cried in confusion, only vaguely aware of the camera recording your reaction. You were shocked by the sight of your friendâs handsome face, his blue eyes shining bright and wild in the moonlight, his full lips twisted up into a smug smirk. His usually neat blond hair was messy from the mask, and for some reason, that was the detail you focused on. Youâd never seen him without perfectly combed and styled hair. To see him so disheveled sent heat and desire curling through your body, your pussy clamping down on his fingers like you didnât want to let him go.
Steve only allowed you a moment to absorb the information it was him whoâd lured you into the woods to fingerfuck you against a tree. In the next heartbeat, your friend shoved his three fingers ruthlessly into your cunt, his thumb circling your clit. A feral grin pulled across his face as he watched you come apart.
It was all too much. Youâd already been dangling on the brink of your release and the shock of finding your friend beneath the Ghostface mask mixed with the pleasure he mercilessly delivered to your body, sent you flying over the edge. Your head thumped against the tree and your lips opened wide on a scream as you came all over Steveâs fingers.
âGood girl, being so fucking good for me, angel,â Steve murmured as he fucked you through your orgasm, stretching his arm holding the phone so the camera could capture both your face and his fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. He widened his fingers even as your walls clamped down on him, making you stretch around him. âYour pussy feels so fucking good coming all over my fingersânever felt anything so fucking sweet.â
Lost to the feeling of your ebbing orgasm, all you could do was moan for Steve, his praising words sparking a new kind of heat, this one in your chest as your heart squeezed. You didnât know if you liked his dirty talk or his sweet words better and a small part of you worried he was going to ruin you for all other men if he kept treating you like the most precious thing in the world and a filthy slut. âSteve,â you murmured, hands finding his chest and sliding up to wrap around his shoulders. You wanted him closer, needed him closer.
Steve mustâve understood what you meant because the bright light from the flash disappeared and in the next moment he was dropping your leg to the ground and gathering you up against his chest. He held you tight, easing you away from the tree and further into the clearing. With gentle but firm hands, Steve sat you down on the blankets on the ground, helping you take off your angel wings so you could lay down. He covered your body with his, holding you while you caught your breath.
Though your breathing was evening out, your mind was racing, processing the fact that your friendâpolite, golden boy Steve Rogersâhad been the man under the Ghostface mask. It didnât seem possible. Youâd known Steve for years. Youâd given him sign after sign after sign you wanted more from him, all of which heâd completely ignored.
When heâd taken you as his date to his bossâs wedding, and youâd seen how deliciously hot heâd looked in his suit, youâd practically thrown yourself into his arms, feeling up his hard chest through his shirt and jacket. The whole night, youâd dropped every hint you could think of, short of trying to grab his cock through his dress pants. Heâd still escorted you home and dropped you off at your door with a respectful kiss on your cheek. The fact that heâd fingerfucked you up against a tree in the woods behind Samâs Halloween party just didnât make sense.
âSteve?â you whispered his name, confusion coloring your tone. You pushed against your friendâs chest until he rolled to the side, stretching out next to you on the blankets.
His face was guarded, lips pressed into an impassive line and blue eyes wary as he watched your expression. But there was a wildness in his features youâd never seen before. Something he mustâve kept on a tight leash and buried so youâd never see it. All of a sudden, you were angry. You were furious that heâd kept this side of himself from you. All you could think about were all the orgasms youâd missed out on while heâd been busy pretending to be the golden boy gentleman.
âWhat the fuck was that, Steve?â you demanded, sitting up and pushing at his chest when he tried to rise up next to you, forcing him back on his elbows. âWhat the fuck was that, huh? Huh?â You punctuated your angry questions with more shoves to Steveâs chest.
With ease, he caught your wrists in one of his hands, holding you captive so he was able to finally sit up. Your friend loomed over you, blocking out the full moon in the sky. His blue eyes raked over your expression, and you squirmed beneath his stare, heat flooding your core. Steveâs gaze dropped down, catching the little wiggle of your hips and a dangerous grin spread slowly across his face.
âOh, angel,â Steve murmured in a low, sinful voice as he dragged his eyes back up your body, lingering on the way your thin white dress clung to the curves of your tits. âThat was just the beginning.â His blue gaze pierced your own, and you swore could feel the promise in his answer shoot directly to your clit, making it pulse with need.
You didnât have time to ponder how your friend was able to make your pussy throb with some innocuous words and a look because in the next breath, Steve pushed you back down into the blankets, pinning your hands above your head while he groped your tits roughly with his free hand.
âGod, your fucking tits, angel,â Steve groaned. He ducked his head down to suck your nipple into his mouth through your dress, getting the fabric wet so that when he moved to the other, it was left tortured by the combination of the damp satin and the cool night air. He did the same to your other nipple, every bite and lick and pull of his lips on your sensitive peaks shooting straight down to your clit. âSo soft and perfect,â he murmured against your skin like he was talking to himself.
Your hips bucked in the air against nothing, seeking the friction your body so desperately craved. A whine wrenched free from your lips. You couldnât believe how needy you were already, after the knee-shaking orgasm Steve had already given you, but you felt insatiable with your friendâs hands on your body. âSteve, please,â you begged, unsure what you were even pleading for.
Steve grinned against your chest, looking up at you from under thick, dark lashes. âYouâre getting the hang of that, angel,â he commented in a casual voice. At your look of confusion, his grin broadened. âBegging.â
Rising up, Steve held you pinned to the blankets with his hand and his gaze as he reached his other hand up to his mouth. His caught the edge of his glove between his teeth and pulled it off, the sight of it making you pant with need. It shouldnât have been so hot to watch your friend take his glove off, but it was. Then he was sliding his bare hand down your body and under your dress, finding you drenched againâwith your first release and your renewed desire.
You squirmed, your pussy still sensitive even as your body begged for more. When Steve dragged the rough pad of his finger over your clit, all you could do was let out a gasping moan. Your hands tugged against his grip, instinctively wanting to push him away from your oversensitive bud.
For his part, Steve seemed to be barely paying you any mind, his warm fingers sliding against your swollen flesh slowly like he was taking his time to explore you. âFuck, Iâve dreamed about this pussy for years, angel,â Steve admitted, his gaze fixed wholly on the juncture of your thighs. âIâd lay awake and jerk off to you when you were sleeping right next to me, thinking about what it would feel like to sink my cock into this sweet cunt.â Possessiveness shone bright in Steveâs eyes in the moonlight, making you shiver. âUsed to fuck my hand while you were right there, thinking about how wet youâd be for meâand look at you now, angel, fucking soaking my fingers like a good little slut.â
Anger swirled in your chest, battling the pleasure consuming your core, and eventually won out, driving you to speak. âWhy didnât you fuck me then?â you demanded in the same harsh tone youâd used before. That finally pulled Steveâs attention away from your pussy. âI was wet and willing and right fucking there, Steve, why didnât you fuck me?â
His fingers paused as he stared at you like heâd been struck dumb, but the expression was quickly washed away, frustration replacing it. âI didnât want to be a creep,â he ground out through gritted teeth. âI didnât know you wanted me to fuck you.â
âGod, Steve, why did you think I asked you to cuddle with me?â your voice was rising as your frustration matched his, all the time youâd lost to Steve being unable to read a simple signal pressing down on your chest, your heart beating for all the time youâd lost with him. âI shoved my ass against your cock how many times, hoping youâd take a fucking hintâbut you never did!â
A growling roar ripped free from Steve, the sound barely human, before he dove on top of you, his arms digging under your back to hold you so tight, it forced the breath from your lungs. In the next instant, your friendâs lips crashed against yours. The kiss wasnât sweet or gentle, it was rough and dirty as Steve poured all his months and years of frustration into you, shoving his tongue into your mouth and taking possession. But you met him with all your own frustration, your freed hands digging into his messy blond hair and clinging to the soft strands like only god himself would be able to make you let him go.
Steve trailed his lips down your jaw, then your neck, licking and sucking on your skin hard enough you knew he was going to leave marks, but you didnât care. You twisted your fingers in his hair and clutched him close to your body, not wanting to let him get too far away. But you needed more, you needed all of him, you needed him to fill you up until he was buried deep inside you. âSteve, pleaseâplease,â you begged in a ragged whisper.
Instead of responding with words, though, Steve growled and yanked the front of your dress down to expose your tits, the force of his hand too much for the thin straps and they tore easily. A shocked gasp fell from your lips as your nipples were exposed to the night air, but you couldnât care less about your cheap dress when Steve descended on your tits, sucking and biting your nipples until you were writhing beneath him, feeling every sting of his teeth like a pulse in your clit.
Frustrated by his lack of attention to your pussy, you snaked a hand down between your legs, managing to circle your poor neglected clit once before Steveâs hand closed around your wrist and he pulled you away with an angry growl. You whimpered as your pussy throbbed with need, looking up at Steve with pleading eyes as he shifted to kneel between your spread thighs. He dropped your hand at your side as if it offended him and you fisted your hands in the blankets to stop yourself from reaching for your needy clit again.
âLetâs get one thing straight, angel,â he said, before tugging his other glove off with his teeth so his bare hand could slip down between your legs, shoving three fingers into your tight hole without preamble. Your back arched up off the blankets and a desperate cry fell from your mouth. âThis pussy might be between your legs,â he started, hooking his fingers inside you and pressing against a spot that had you seeing stars behind your eyelids. âBut it belongs to me.â He growled, widening his fingers and forcing you to stretch around him, your eyes popping open and going wide as you stared up at him. âDo you understand?â His blue eyes were wild in the moonlight as he stared down at you.
Nodding your head quickly, you had to swallow to get your tongue to work again. âYes, Steve,â you answered, gasping for air while he stretched you out around his fingers. The stretch stung a little but it felt good to be filled up, even if what you really wanted was his cock. âMy pussy belongs to you.â
An evil smile tugged at the corners of Steveâs lips as he stared down at you, squirming under his hands. He shook his head slowly and for a moment you were confused. âDonât say âmyâ when itâs not yours, angel,â Steve corrected you.
At your enthusiastic nod, he grinned and bent down to press a sweet kiss to your lips, like a reward for being good for him. When he sat back up, his free hand held the phone heâd used to record you up against the tree. Your pussy clenched at the thought of being recorded again, splayed out on the blankets in the middle of the woods, your dress torn to reveal your tits and the bottom scrunched up around your waist. Though you couldnât see it, you were sure your hair was a mess and you could feel your headband and the halo askew on your head. Altogether, you knew you looked like a slut and the thought of having it documented for Steve to look at later made your skin tingle and heat all over.
He swiped the camera open and the flash went on, making you wince at the bright light in the darkness. âI want to hear you say it for the camera, angel,â Steve said as he held the phone close to his chest, angling it so he was able to get your face and pussy in the shot. âWho does this pussy belong to?â
With the knowledge that Steve would be watching this later, you were struck with the impulse to perform for the camera. So you stared up into the lens with hooded eyes and you let pleasure soak your voice as you spoke. âThis pussy belongs to Steven Grant Rogers,â you declared, spreading your thighs even wider for both Steve and the camera.
âGood girl,â Steve praised, making you smile dreamily. Your hips wriggled, trying to urge his fingers to move and give you some of the friction you desperately needed. But Steve had other ideas. He rotated his hand, his fingers still stuffed deep in your channel and making you cry out at the sensation. He pressed his thumb against the rosebud of your ass. âAnd who does this ass belong to?â he asked, blue eyes glittering with desire behind the glare of the flash.
Your chest heaved as you panted. For how much of a slut you liked to be, planning to pick up a guy at your friendâs Halloween party, youâd never taken anyone in your ass before. Youâd never even really explored it much, except an experimental finger once by yourself, finding it to be weird, thought not entirely unpleasant. But as your hands clawed at the blankets with need and Steve pressed against your tight little hole, sending pulses of delicious pleasure through your body, you thought you might just let your friend be the first to fuck your ass.
âSteve,â you gasped out, your brain shorting out a little bit at the feel of his fingers buried inside your pussy and nudging against your rosebud. âThis ass belongs to Steve Rogers.â You looked him dead in the eye when you spoke your next words. âAll these holes belong to Steve Rogers.â
âFuck,â Steve grunted, giving you a couple sloppy thrusts of his fingers in reward, dragging a rough moan from your lips. He watched you squirm on the phone screen, reveling in the way you responded to his touch. âBeg for my cock, angel, beg and Iâll give it to you,â he promised in a low, alluring voice. The permission in his command, like he was offering you an outlet for the desire that was building up inside you. It was all you needed to loosen your tongue.
âGod, Steve, I need your cock, need you to fuck me, please,â you begged, staring up into the camera as your hands fisted in the blankets, the heels of your mary janes digging into the ground so you could lift your hips and fuck yourself on his fingers. Your lust only grew, gathering in your body like an impending storm, and your voice turned pleading with a whine as you got needier. âPlease fuck this pussy with your huge cock, pound into this tight little hole until Iâm screaming for you, Steve, pleaseâplease!â
âThatâs my girl, thatâs my fucking girl,â Steve praised, pulling his fingers from your sopping wet pussy. He shoved them in your mouth and you sucked greedily, eyes slipping closed as you delighted in the taste of your arousal on his hand. You licked them clean under the bright light of the cameraâs flash and once you were done, Steve bent down to kiss you fiercely. His tongue swept into your mouth to taste you on your lips, groaning into you. Your fingers dug into his hair to hold him close, but he wrenched himself away, grinning cheekily down at you as he sat up.
Steve reached down to the belt buckle at the front of his dark jeans, pulling his belt free with a rasping sound that had you trying to clench your thighs closed to relieve the ache in your clit. But Steve shook his head. He pulled his zipper down slowly, teasingly, and you were practically vibrating with anticipation. When you tried to reach down and help him, he growled a soft, âNo,â shaking his head again. Finally, he reached into his jeans and pulled his cock free.
A gasp escaped your lips and your jaw went slack at the sight of your friendâs cock. You knew he was big, youâd felt him harden against your ass enough times on his couch to know that much, but seeing him in all his glory was another thing entirely. Steveâs cock was thick, his own fingers barely meeting as he fisted his dick and stroked up the length. You could feel your pussy gush with even more wetness as you stared at Steveâs cock, eying the veins running up the length to a wide mushroom tip. Almost dazedly, you reached down, wanting to see how big he looked with your smaller hand wrapped around his girth.
Steve batted your hand away before fisting his dick again and pressing the tip to your tiny hole. With his other hand, he held the phone closer to where your bodies met, getting a closer shot of his cock resting on your pussy. He looked so fucking big, you didnât know how he could possibly fit, but in the same breath you wanted him to make it fit inside your tight channel. You wanted him to fuck you hard and rough until you were screaming yourself raw like heâd promised.
You wanted him to put it in already, but he didnât, just held your wriggling hips down while he slid his hard length against your drenched folds, getting the full length soaked in your arousal before settling his dick between your spread thighs. He paused, gritting his teeth, and you watched his jaw tic as he stared at the phone screen, transfixed by the sight of his big cock against your pussy. He stopped recording and pressed his fists into the blanket on either side of your shoulders as he leaned over you, looking down into your face.
âIf you want me to wear a condom, you better tell me now,â he bit out through barely leashed need. When his blue eyes met yours, they were practically wild with desire.
It stole your breath, the way Steve stared at you like you were his entire world. But you shook your head as you looked up at him. âI donât have one,â you murmured. You hadnât had anywhere to keep it in your dress, so youâd given it to Kate to hold in her pocket, planning to snag it from her once youâd found a guy to take upstairs. But, of course, Steve had taken you outside and youâd been too curious and turned on by the stranger in the Ghostface mask to stop him so you could track down your friend.
Steveâs blue eyes flared with hunger and a little big of angerâbut the anger seemed to win out. âWhat were you gonna do if the guy you picked up didnât have one, angel?â he demanded, in a harsh voice. âYou were gonna let some random stranger fuck you with his bare cock?â he asked, leaning over you so his face was hovering above yours. Anger and a little bit of fear swirled in his bright blue eyes. âYou were gonna let some fucking guy raw youâyou were gonna risk him knocking you up?â
The way he spoke to you, the way he was looking at you, all you could think was that Steve was glorious with fury contorting his handsome face into something feral. It occurred to you that you should be scared, that you could use your safe wordâor you could explain that Kate had the protection youâd brought to the partyâbut all you felt was need. It was almost overwhelming how much you wanted Steve in that moment, your pussy flooding, your desire for him consuming you and holding your tongue. All you could do was stare up at your friend with a dazed look on your face.
When you didnât respond or defend yourself, Steve tsked at you, shaking his head. He wrangled his anger under control with some visible effort, shoving a hand through his hair, making the blond strands even messier. âSo fucking irresponsible, angel,â he admonished, his breathing heavy. Even at those chastising words, your need only flared hotter. âWell if you were happy to let a random stranger fuck you raw then you wonât mind if I do, huh?â he asked, his intense gaze reading your expression as he spoke, gauging your reaction to his words. âIf youâre gonna get knocked up tonight, itâs gonna be by me.â
A jolt of need pulsed through your body straight to your core, your inner walls clenching pathetically around nothing, begging to be filled. You moaned loudly at Steveâs words and their effect on you. You wanted him so badly you finally remembered how to speak. âPlease Steve, fuck me bare,â you begged. âKnock me up, I donât care, just fuck meâplease!â You were so desperate, tears were stinging your eyes and your hips were bucking up in the air, pussy sliding against his cock.
For a moment, Steve just stared at you, his hard jaw slack and his blue eyes dazed in the moonlight as if he were shocked by how much you seemed to want him and the filthy things he said. Then he seemed to snap out of whatever trance your words had put him in and he tilted his head back, squeezing his eyes closed while his hands gripped your thighs hard. He groaned up into the sky, sounding almost tortured.
âFuck, angel,â he grunted, dragging his head up so he could stare down at you. âSuch a filthy fucking slut begging me to knock you upâthen youâd really be mine, wouldnât you?â he asked, his voice so fucking eager. Your heart beat wildly, matching his enthusiasm.
Steve fisted his cock in one hand, lining it up at your entrance and teasing you by pushing the rounded tip against your little hole. âIs that what you want, want to be all fucking mine?â he asked, a feral grin curling the edges of his mouth as he caught your eye. âWant me to tattoo âProperty of Steve Rogersâ over this cunt?â Still holding your gaze captive with his own, he brought his thick cock down on your clit, giving it a hard smack and making you jerk as pleasure and a tiny bit of pain surged through you.
He chuckled darkly at your reaction, then refocused on where his cock pressed against your hole. He pushed until the broad head slipped inside your dripping pussy, your walls stretching and enveloping him, drawing ragged moans from both of you. âLetâs see you try to pick up other guys with my name branded on your skin,â he muttered almost as if to himself, gritting his teeth as he slowly pushed deeper, making you take inch after inch of his thick cock.
âOh god, Steve, fuck, youâre so fucking hot,â you babbled, his possessive words making you moan almost as much as the feel of him stretching your tight hole. Maybe it was the way it felt like he was reconstructing you, altering your body to fit himself inside, but the thought of having his name branded on you didnât sound half bad. It was possessive, but in that moment you wanted to be possessed. âNever knew you could be like this, never knew you could fuck me like this,â you confessed, staring up into Steveâs face. His expression contorted in determination and you cried out when he shoved the last few inches of his cock into your pussy.
âIâm the only one who can fuck you like this, angel,â he growled in your ear, not giving you any time to adjust to the feel of him filling you up before he was pulling out and pumping his thick cock back into you. âAnd Iâm the only one whoâs gonna be fucking you from now on, right angel?â He punctuated his question with a rough thrust, the tip of his cock battering the end of you, making you squirm and writhe, but Steve just pinned you down harder on the blankets with his hips.
Your thighs were splayed wide, riding up the sides of his body while you clung to his shoulders, one hand buried in his blond hair and the other fisting in his black t-shirt. You felt ruined, heâd ruined you and heâd barely even started to fuck you. âYesâgod yes, Steve, only you,â you answered easily, knowing no one else would ever be able to fuck you the way your friend could. âDo whatever you want with my body, itâs yours, all of itâevery hole, every inch is yours.â
A pleased grin pulled up the corners of Steveâs mouth and when he kissed you, you could feel it against your lips before he sank into you. The sweep of his tongue in your mouth was possessive and you melted into him, loving the feel of him claiming you with his lips. When he pulled away, he dropped a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth and only then did you realize you were smiling, so happy to be his.
Steve thrust into you hard, and your mouth fell open around a loud moan. âThatâs my girl, such a sweet little slut,â he mumbled as he sat up on his knees. From beside you, Steve snatched up the phone and he swiped to the camera, holding the device above your body and angling it to get all of you in the shot.
For a moment, you were puzzled when the flash didnât turn on, but you didnât have long to ponder it when he was working your body so expertly. Your friend pulled his cock out slowly, dragging his thickness against your stretched walls, making you feel every inch of him. Without warning, Steve thrust back inside, filling you up with a quick, brutal stroke. Your spine curved and your eyes rolled back in your head as your lips parted in a lusty moan. Distractedly, you were aware of a quick flash of light.
When you settled, as much as you could with his giant cock stuffed so deep in your pussy you felt like you could feel him in your stomach, you looked up at Steve. He wore an eager grin. âSee how pretty you look stretched out and cock-drunk for me,â he said, turning the phone so you could see the photo heâd taken.
There you were, and you looked positively debauched. Your legs were spread wide and forced open around Steveâs strong thighs, your pussy stretched wide around his thick cock. Heâd caught you at the exact right moment and your body was arched up toward the sky, your tits bared and nipples peaked. But it was your face that really conveyed how much pleasure you were in in that momentâyour mouth was slack, your tongue nearly hanging out over your bottom lip and your eyes were rolled back in your head so only the whites were visible. It was easily the most sensual photo that had ever been taken of you and you loved it, your eyes looking at it greedily as your pussy gushed with more arousal.
Too soon, Steve turned the phone back to himself, and you could see the same hunger in his blue gaze as he stared at the photo. He loved it just as much as you did, maybe even more. âLook so hot, angel, such a pretty little fucktoy,â he murmured. Then his gaze fixed on you, spread out beneath him and he tilted his head to the side as if considering something.
You squirmed, wanting him to move, but also wanting to know what he was thinking. Whatever it was, you already knew youâd agree. Youâd agree to anything Steve said or asked you to do if it meant heâd fuck you with that big cock of his.
âShould I send this to Bucky, angel?â he asked, and you froze. Steveâs eyes were bright and intense as he watched you for your reaction.
Of all the things youâd thought he might say, that wasnât one of them. Since entering the woods with Steve, youâd forgotten Bucky even existed and you couldnât believe youâd considered letting him fuck you instead of your closest guy friend. You felt a little ashamed at how youâd almost thrown yourself at the brown-haired man and you felt your face flush with heat.
âHe told me how needy you were acting with him, how you practically humped his leg in the kitchen,â Steve said in a conversational tone and you stared at him hard. For how possessive heâd acted, you expected him to be angry and jealous, but he just seemed amused. He mustâve seen your confusion written all over your face because he grinned and explained. âI know how he looks at you, angel, I know heâd love to get inside your sweet little pussy.â Steve placed his free hand down over your pelvis, the gesture so fucking possessive it took your breath away. âBut I also know he wouldnât touch you without my permission.â
You shivered at the certainty in Steveâs voice, goosebumps rising all over your skin at the implication of his words. Not only had he and his best friend both talked about how much they wanted to fuck you, but Steve had wanted you enough to lay claim to you to his friends. It was in that moment you realized this was far more than a one night stand to Steve and you immediately felt relieved. If he was telling his friends to back off, he wanted more and you decided you were only too happy to give him more.
Steve was grinning down at you as he watched you process what heâd told you, going on when it seemed he had your attention again. âBucky was nice enough to help me set all this up and get you out here,â Steve explained, gesturing around at the blankets in the woods. âI think he deserves a little thank you, donât you? Should we show him exactly how much of a needy little slut you are, letting me raw you in the woods?â There was a teasing curve to Steveâs grin, like he didnât expect you to say yes.
But, for how long you and Steve had been friends, he didnât know everything about you, and he clearly didnât anticipate how his words, his suggestion, would make you burn with need. The thought of him telling his friends not to touch you because you were his before heâd even had you was hot enough, but the idea of him rubbing it in Buckyâs face by sending his best friend the photo heâd taken of you fucked out on his cock was even hotter. âDo it,â you said, looking Steve dead in the eye. âThis body is yours, Steve, if you want to share it with Bucky, then do it.â
Steveâs face went slack with surprise and it was his turn to freeze. His face was still except for his eyes, which raced around your expression, trying to gauge if you were serious or not. After a moment, as if he came to a decision, he ordered, âRemind me of your safe word, angel.â
You titled your head in confusion but replied obediently. âSidney.â Then you pressed your lips into a firm line and raised an eyebrow in a challenge.
Leaning down over you, Steve kissed your lips until you relented, melting under him. When he pulled away, he didnât go far, pressing his forehead to yours and looking you in the eye. âYou can use it at any time about anything,â he reminded you. âIf you donât like something I say or something I say Iâm going to do, you have to promise me youâll use it."
Pouting, you said, âIâm not gonna use it, Steve.â When you lifted up, trying to capture his lips in another kiss, he backed off and you whined softly. âFuck, just send the photo to Bucky,â you muttered exasperatedly, flopping back on the blankets. âI want you toâthe thought of him seeing me stuffed full of your cock makes me so wet,â you groaned, your pussy clenching down on his thick length.
Steveâs hips rutted into you reflexively, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to still. âYouâre not thinking straight, youâre thinking with your pussy,â he accused through his clenched jaw, the words coming out harsh.
You bucked your hips, fucking yourself on his cock for a few strokes before he settled his weight more firmly on top of you, pinning you to the blankets. âHow is this different to me telling you to raw me?â you demanded, getting more and more frustrated with every moment he spent not fucking you. âSending a pic of me to Bucky is less risky, if you think about it.â
Expression contorting into one of irritation, Steve stared down at you. âYou think Iâd actually risk knocking you up?â he asked, but didnât give you time to answer before he went on. âI know youâre on birth control because you complained about it to meâyou also told me when you got tested after your last partner and were relieved it came back all good.â His blue eyes were wild with frustration as he looked at you. âIâm your friend, remember?â
Tears swam in your eyes at the realization Steve had been listening to you more closely than you realized. When you grabbed his face and pulled him down for a fierce kiss, he let you. He let you apologize with your lips for a moment before he took over, thrusting his tongue into your mouth and tangling with yours at the same time he rolled his hips against you. You moaned into his mouth, wrenching away to pant at the feel of his thick cock stretching you. âSteve!â you cried on a gasp.
He grinned and kissed you once more before leaning up and grabbing the phone. He held it up to your face and said, âLook at the phone, angel.â When you did, the screen lit up and unlocked. For a stunned second you thought heâd somehow added your face ID to his phone, but then the home screen appeared and you realized it was your phone. Steve had been using your phone the whole time, recording you to your own camera roll. Heâd only be able to see the videos and photos again if you sent them to him. Your jaw dropped a little at the realization, your heart warming and clenching in your chest.
Steve didnât seem to notice your reaction as he navigated to the camera roll. âIâm sending the photo to myself so I can make it my background,â he said, but looked to you, only doing what he said when you nodded. âWeâll talk about Bucky later,â he promised, before tossing the phone down on the blanket next to you and covering you with his body, his cock sinking deeper into your pussy.
âPlease, Steve, I need you to fuck me,â you begged, your legs wrapping around his waist as much as possible while you clung to his shoulders, holding him down on top of you.
His hips gave a short thrust and you both groaned. âFuck, you feel so good on my cock, angel,â he muttered, his hands digging under your body and gripping your ass in his big palms, fingers digging into your soft flesh. âSo fucking tight and perfectâlike you were made to take my cock.â His hands kneaded your ass as he fucked you, grunting with the effort while you sighed beneath him. When you felt his middle finger press against the tight rosebud of your ass, you jerked a little and he grinned down at you. âYou gonna let me fuck this ass one day, angel?â
Again, you marveled at how strange, yet oddly good it felt to feel Steve press against your tight hole. It took you a moment to gather your thoughts enough to speak. âNever done that before,â you confessed, catching his eye and letting him see how wild he made you. âBut yes, Steve, I want you to fuck my ass.â
The grin that pulled across Steveâs face was salacious, taking all the heat out of his tone when he tsked at you. âThere you go again saying this ass is yours when we both know it belongs to me, donât we, angel?â He raised his eyebrows and you bit your lip, trying to look chastened when you just wanted to grin right back at him. âI forgive you though,â he said, dropping a kiss on your nose. âSince youâre gonna let me be your first.â He slanted his lips against yours and gave you a deep, heady kiss, that left you dizzy and reeling.
You still hadnât recovered when Steve was leaning up and dragging his cock free of your pussy. With gentle but strong hands, Steve flipped you over onto your stomach, manhandling you into position, pulling you up onto your knees. Before you even realized what he was doing, Steve had you face down and ass up. In the next moment, he shoved his dick back in your dripping wet slit, making you moan loudly with your cheek pressed into the blankets.
Steve bent over your back and ran his thumb along your lower lip. âOpen up, angel,â he murmured. You obeyed immediately, taking his finger into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it, pulling a groan from deep in his chest. âGet it nice and wet,â he urged in a deep rumbling tone. With his chest pressed against your back, you could feel his warmth sinking into your skin even through his t-shirt and the remnants of your dress. âWeâll need to start getting you ready if youâre gonna take my cock anytime soon.â
Excitement had your pussy clenching down on Steveâs cockâyou were just as eager as he was. Everything your friend had done to you had felt amazing and you were sure Steve would make stretching out your tight ass feel just as good. Smiling around Steveâs thumb, you did as he said, letting saliva pool in your mouth and using your tongue to get his finger totally wet. All the while, Steve thrust lazily into your cunt, not hard or fast enough to be driving either of you to release, but enough to keep a low heat simmering in your body and lighting up your limbs.
When Steve was satisfied with how wet youâd gotten his thumb, he pulled it out, giving you a smacking kiss on the cheek, and then sat up. âHold yourself open for me, angel,â he ordered in a gravelly voice, still managing to soften the command with a sweetness that was all Steve. It helped that there was a thread of excitement in his tone that matched the feeling thrumming through your veins.
Reaching around behind you, you grabbed an ass cheek in each hand, spreading yourself obscenely for your friend. Steveâs cock managed to slip into your pussy another little bit, hitting a spot deep inside you that made you shriek into the blankets. With your hands on your ass, the side of your face was smashed into the blankets and you were thankful Steve had piled them thickly enough you didnât feel any rocks or anything underneath.
âGood girl,â Steve murmured, holding his cock still inside you. Over your shoulder, you heard him spit and a second later felt the warmth of his saliva hitting the crack of your ass, sliding down over your rosebud and to your slit. Steve circled his thumb around your hole, using both of your spit as lubrication to press his finger against you. When the tight ring of muscle didnât give, Steve murmured in a soothing rumble, âRelax, angel, relax for me, let me in.â
You took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the blanketsâthey smelled like Steve. Not like the scent of the woods and earth that clung to him tonight, but like clean laundry and fresh air. They smelled like Steve when you were on his couch, perfectly relaxed in the circle of his arms. It was easy to calm yourself when you were surrounded by the comforting smell of your friend, and when he was being so careful with you at the same time he was talking to you and fucking you like a dirty slut. Focusing on your ass, you relaxed yourself, letting your body unclench and open up for him.
Steve pushed the tip of his thumb past the tight ring of muscle, wringing a jagged, broken moan from your lips. Your fingers dug into the soft flesh of your ass so you wouldnât let go. He didnât stop to let you get used to the feeling of his thumb breaching your ass, but took his time as he pressed deeper and deeper. He only stopped once his thumb was fully lodged in your hole. His other four fingers splayed across your lower back as he held you possessively, his thumb hooked inside you.
You felt so full, almost overwhelmingly so, and that was just his thumb. It felt good, deliciously dirty even, but with how much a single finger stretched your tiny hole, you had serious concerns about whether Steve would ever be able to fit his cock inside you there. But you didnât have time to worry about that because Steve pressed his thumb down against the thin membrane separating his finger from his cock, drawing an obscene moan from your mouth.
âYa like that, angel?â he asked teasingly. His voice was slightly breathless, and you could hear his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, like he was trying to hold himself back. âLike feeling me fill up both these holes?â He pushed deeper with both his cock and thumb at the same time, making you scream at the feel of both intrusions hitting as deep as they could go.
âYes, god Steve, fuck, so good,â you babbled, your mind going blank at the feel of Steve inside your pussy and ass. It was all you could do to arch your back and hold yourself spread open for him, eager to feel everything he could give you. âI canâtâI didnât knowâfuck, please give it to me, Steve, please, I needâfuck me, please,â you begged, almost incoherent on his cock and finger. The way he filled you up was almost too much, more than youâd ever felt before with another partner or yourself, but the edge he forced you to walk felt so fucking good. You couldnât believe youâd misjudged Steve so badly, that youâd thought he was too much of a gentleman to give you the rough and dirty sex you craved, but he was exactly who you needed.
A dark chuckle rumbled up in Steveâs chest and poured past his lips, skating over your skin like the ghost of a caress. The sound was full of sin and promise and a little bit of awe, making you clench down on him with both holes. âAnd to think,â he began, pulling his cock out of your pussy oh so slowly to make sure you could feel how much bigger he felt with his thumb in your ass. âYou scoffed at the thought of me being able to fuck you like the filthy little slut you are."
âWh-what?â you mumbled. For one impossible second, you wondered if heâd somehow read your thoughts. The way heâd read your body all night and given you exactly what you needed made it seem kind of possible, though even your lust-drunk mind managed to bury that preposterous thought. You worried youâd accidentally spoken out loud, but it turned out it wasnât either of those things.
âI heard you, angel,â Steve bit out in a gravelly tone, frustration lacing his deep voice. âI heard you on the phone with your friends when you were at my place last week,â he explained. âYou told them you didnât think I could fuck you like a slut, but I knew you were wrong.â He punctuated his last word by thrusting back inside your pussy, making you cry out and jerk forward on your knees. Steve hauled you back against him with a firm grip, driving himself so deep you couldâve sworn you could feel him in your throat.
You felt silly for a second. Of course heâd overheard you, you hadnât been as sneaky as you couldâve been. If you were honest with yourself, youâd hoped he would overhear and do something about it. Even if you hadnât been actively trying to tempt Steve with your words, a small part of you had hoped to elicit a reaction. It turned out it had worked, itâd just taken Steve a little longerâand a pair of hot Halloween costumesâto prove you wrong.
âSo I figured,â Steve went on when you didnât respond, setting a furious pace with his hips thrusting his cock into your needy pussy. Your moans were so loud and uninhibited, you almost didnât hear what he said next. âHalloween is the perfect time for tricks, and Iâve earned a treat, donât you think?â Steve gripped your hair with his free hand, yanking your head back.
With your hands still on your ass, you were completely at his mercy, and it felt fucking divine. All you could do was take Steveâs cock and listen to his words, and what he said next only drove your need to new heights.
âIâve been such a good friend to you, angel, I deserve a little thank youâI deserve this,â he growled, shoving his big dick into your slick hole with a particularly rough thrust, making you shriek at the pleasure and pain of feeling him so deep. âLook at you,â he practically cooed. âBent over for me, taking my cock and thumb in these tight little holes,â he said, pulling his thumb out and shoving it deep at the same time he thrust his cock inside. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth opened on a strangled scream. âAnd youâre enjoying it just as much as I am, like a good little slut.â He repeated the movement of thrusting both his thumb and cock into your holes, driving you wild with the sensations. âMy good little slut.â
Your heart thumped at the possessiveness in Steveâs voice, but you didnât have time to think about how far gone you already were for your friend, not when Steve was treating you like his own personal fucktoy and your mind was overloaded with pleasure. âFuck, Steve fuck,â you babbled. His words made you so hot and you wanted to talk dirty to him right back. âYou do deserve this,â you said between gasping moans. âYou were so good to me, and I was so wrong thinking someone else could give me what I needed.â On one particularly brutal thrust, you let out a sob of pleasure, hardly aware of what you were saying, just knowing it felt right. âBut they canât, youâre the only one who deserves these holesâonly you, Steve, only you!â
âThatâs fucking right,â he growled, holding his thumb deep in your ass as his cock plunged into your pussy faster and faster. âYouâll never stick me in the friendzone again, will you angel?â
âOh god, no, never,â you answered immediately, not even able to fathom going back to just being friends with Steve. If you had to fall asleep in his arms one more time without getting his cock deep in your cunt, you didnât know what youâd do. Youâd have to take matters into your own hands because now that youâd had his cock, you couldnât imagine giving it up.
âYouâre mine, isnât that right, angel?â Steve bit out through gritted teeth as he fucked you. He was breathing heavily but his pace never slowed and you didnât know how much more you could take, he was pushing you closer and closer to the edge with every thrust. ââProperty of Steve Rogersâ?â
âYe-es,â you agreed on a broken moan, needing to swallow past your dry, scratchy throat before you could say more. âYours, Steve, tattoo it on my pussy so Iâll never forget,â you babbled, barely caring about what you were agreeing to, just knowing the dirty words made you hotter. âPlease, Steve, you own me, I belong to you.â
âThatâs my fucking girl,â Steve praised in a ragged voice. He drilled his cock into you fast and rough, his thumb still lodged as deep in your ass as it could go. âYouâre mine and I can do whatever I want with your holesâmaybe share you with Bucky, would you like that, angel?â
The thought of Steve and his best friend both fucking you at the same time nearly pushed you over the edge, but you held off, wanting to last as long as possible. You felt so good, you just wanted it to last forever. But Steve had burned into your brain the idea of being filled up by more than just Steveâs cock and thumb and it was all you could think about. âGod, yes, yes, wanna be filled by two cocks,â you groaned, admitting your fantasy all too easily to your friend.
Steve only chuckled and the sound was pure sin. His hand gripping your hair pulled you back up from where youâd slumped down on the blankets so you were dangling over the soft surface. âSuch a greedy little fucktoy, angel,â he admonished good-naturedly, the breathlessness in his voice the only indication of how your body and words were affecting him. But Steve proved once again he was exactly what you needed with his next filthy suggestion. âWhat if we ignored your sweet pussy, angel, what if I filled your ass while Bucky fucked your throatâwould you still be just as eager for two cocks?â
His words only made you gush more, your wetness dripping down his cock to his balls as he pounded into you. âYes,â you answered on a gasp. You were so close, you were pretty sure youâd agree to anything because everything Steve said sounded good to you. âUse any holes you want, just use me, fuck me, please, Steve,â you bit out around gasps and loud moans.
âRub your clit,â Steve ordered in a jagged tone. âRub your little clit so I can feel you come all over my cock like the filthy fucking slut you are.â
Immediately, you let go of your ass with one hand, eagerly sliding it around to your front to do as Steve said. You pressed tight little circles into your clit and, with how close to the edge you already were, it didnât take long for the pleasure to push you right up to the precipice of your release. But it wasnât until Steve growled out his next words that you fell over the edge.
âCome for me, angel, come for me,â he urged. His voice was low and sweet, with a hint of desperation that almost made it sound like he was begging. It was that thrum of neediness in your friendâs voice that did you in.
After everything Steve had said and done to you, his big cock pummeling your cunt and his thumb stretching out your ass, while he ordered you to rub your clit and practically begged you to come for him, it was all too much for you to take. You could feel your orgasm swell like a tidal wave inside you and, for just a second, you worried about the devastation it would have on your body, heart and soul. Then, with one last driving thrust of Steveâs cock, he sent you careening over the edge.
You came with a scream, the sound piercingly loud, splitting open the quiet of the woods and leaving your throat feeling raw. The pleasure swept over you, wiping away everything else until you didnât know where you ended and Steve began. For a brief moment, it felt like you were floating in a sea of pleasure, weightless and surrounded by it. But then you crashed back into your body and you knew youâd never be the same, your arms and legs shaking hard as wave after wave of pleasure flowed through your limbs.
âFuck, gripping me so tight, angel, âm gonna come,â Steve gritted out through clenched teeth, still thrusting into your spasming pussy, fucking you through your orgasm and drawing it out. âYou feel so good coming on my cock.â Steve groaned, muttering, âFuck, fuck.â His hips rutted against you in short, wild thrusts as he chased his own release, and he wasnât far behind you. âTake my come, angel, take itâtake it,â he demanded and with one last thrust, he shoved his cock deep in your pussy and came.
Steve let out a sound that was so animalistic, you didnât know if you could call it a groan, but it was so dirty, it made your pussy clench down on his cock. Then you could feel his dick twitch in your cunt, his load spilling into you and filling you with warmth. You moaned, pushing back on his cock and trying to take him deeper, the feel of him pulsing deep inside your core feeding the delicious aftershocks of your own release. For long moments, you and Steve hung suspended together in your pleasure, riding out your orgasms together while his come leaked from your pussy and dripped down to the blankets beneath you.
Gently, Steve disentangled his hand from your hair, guiding your head down to the blankets. With the same tender care, he eased his thumb from your tight behind and pulled his cock out of your still fluttering channel. Before you could fall over, unable to hold yourself up with how boneless and satiated you felt, Steve helped you roll onto your side. He laid down behind you, wrapping his arms around you and gathering you against his chest while you curled up in his arms. He held you tightly as you both calmed down.
The night had turned a little chilly but you felt plenty warm in Steveâs arms. Still, you couldnât relax fully when everything that had happened and been said between you and your friend kept replaying in your mind. âSteve?â you started in a tentative voice. Without being able to see his face, you didnât know exactly how he felt about everything, but you needed to know. âIf weâre not just friends anymore, what are we?â
Steve squeezed you tight with his arms, his faced buried in your neck. âFuck, angel,â he mumbled on a deep exhale, his voice a little muffled, but you still heard him loud and clear. âIâm trying really hard not to beg you to marry me over here.â
Your heart surged with happiness and you giggled, the sound light as air. âI might say yes,â you whispered, your hands clinging to his arms around you like you worried heâd try to escape after your admission.
But Steve didnât try to pull away, he only pressed his chest closer against your back, groaning loudly like you were killing him. âDonât fucking say that if you donât mean it, angel,â he warned.
Laughing so much your shoulders shook, you could feel the answering smile on Steveâs lips when he pressed a kiss to your neck. âI do seem to have a problem with agreeing to anything you want when youâre buried inside me, donât I?â you asked teasingly.
âMhmm,â Steve agreed with a rumbling sound, trailing little kisses up your neck until his mouth was right next to your ear. âDonât worry, angel, I wonât hold you to any of those promises,â he assured you, his voice low and thrumming with happiness.
You hummed happily, the corners of your mouth pulling up in an evil grin as you said, âI donât know, I think I might still get that âproperty of Steve Rogersâ tattoo.â
Steve froze, his mouth pressed against the underside of your jaw mid-kiss. Then he nipped at your skin, making you giggle. He shifted until you were on your back and he hovered over you, his blue eyes shining bright and excitedly in the moonlight. âDonât say that if you donât mean it, angel,â he warned again, his expression reluctant like he was too nervous to hope you were being serious.
Digging your hands into his soft blond hair, you pulled him down to you for a kiss. It started soft and sweet, but quickly turned filthy when Steve licked into your mouth, his tongue twining with yours. He kissed you possessively and left you gasping for air when he pulled away. His blue eyes were still guarded, and you wanted to reassure him. Looking him directly in the eye, you said, âYouâre it for me, Steve, Iâm yours for as long as youâll have me.â
He stared at you for a long moment, like he was trying to make sure you werenât just talking in the heat of the moment. But when you looked at him with all the seriousness of how you felt, a smile dawned over his face, his expression brightening as if he were lit from the inside. âThank fuck,â he groaned, ducking down for another kiss. You giggled against his lips, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist.
Steve rolled you both onto your sides while you made out on the blankets. When he pulled back, he looked at you fondly, stroking his hand down your face.
âYouâre mine, too, right?â you asked with a soft smile. You already knew he was, but you wanted to hear him say it.
He smiled right back at you, a little bit of self-deprecation in his expression. âAngel, Iâve been yours since the first time you fell asleep in my arms.â He sighed heavily. âI liked being your friend, it wouldâve been enough for me, really, but I had to know.â
When you kissed him, your teeth clacked against his because you both couldnât stop smiling. Laughing, you stared at him with all the adoration you felt clear in your eyes.
âDoes this mean youâre not angry about the trick I played?â Steve asked, a little hesitantly, as he trailed a finger over your lower lip. At your confused look, he explained. âWith the Ghostface mask.â
Realization hit you and for a second you didnât understand why you might be angry about that. But then, of course, you understood that heâd been pretending to be a stranger when heâd found you on the dance floor. Truthfully, though, you were glad it was Steve, and you told him as much. âNo, if Iâm honest, I wanted it to be you,â you confessed.Â
He looked surprised for a moment before his mouth widened into a happy grin. He pulled you tight against his chest, tucking your head under his chin. You felt his laugh rumble in his chest before you heard it. âGood, because Iâve got some ideas about some other tricks to play on youâsome that might involve Bucky if you were serious about that.â
Heat sizzled through your core, your clit pulsing at the suggestion, and your hips wiggled against Steve. âI was serious if you were,â you said, a bit of a challenge in your tone. You could hear the grin in Steveâs voice when he replied.
âOh I was,â he assured you in a darkly pleased voice. âNow that youâre mine, Iâll give you plenty of tricks and treats, angel,â he promised. You hummed happily cuddling into Steveâs chest, feeling the warmth of him soak into your skin.
After a little while, though, the cold October night penetrated the happy little bubble you and Steve had created and you shivered hard in his arms. Steve dropped a kiss to the crown of your head and then he was pulling you up. He wrapped you in the blanket from the top of the pile, pulling it tight around your shoulders and letting it hang down to your feet. He typed out a quick text to Bucky to ask his friend to gather up the rest of the blankets and store them in Samâs garage.
Steve led you through the woods, not back the way youâd come but in a different direction, until you broke through the tree line and onto one of the roads that ran past Samâs neighborhood. Steveâs car was a little ways away and he led you to it, tucking you into the passenger seat before getting in himself. He handed you your phone from his pocket, and you texted your friends that you were going home with him. Before they could even respond, you promised to fill them in later, then shut your phone off.
You fell asleep on the drive back to Steveâs apartment and only roused when he helped you out of the car. He was kind and patient with you as he helped you undress and clean up, both of you taking a quick shower. Then he gave you one of his shirts to wear and tucked you into his bed before sliding in behind you. Steveâs arms wrapped around you and you could feel and smell him everywhere. You fell asleep with a smile on your lips, safe and sound and happy in the arms of your friend, your man, Steve Rogers.
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in which Harry is an attentive CEO who likes to take control whenever he can, and Y/N is in desperate need of some affection but isn't kind enough to herself to ever realise.
pinterest board | spotify playlist | wattpad đ©â€ïžđȘ main masterlist
ONE *
y/n finds life difficult and harry just wants to make her feel good.
contains a nervous y/n, a harry that must be heaven-sent, and a sure case of opposites attract.
TWO *
harry is a little obsessed with y/n and y/n just wants to know when he'll have sex with her again.
contains a series of dates, some clarification, and reciprocated excitement.
THREE *
y/n starts to learn how harry likes to play and things take a turn when she visits him at work.
contains a first punishment (that hardly counts), a lot of teasing, and the start of some serious developments.
FOUR *
harry specifies a few things about their relationship, y/n enters a new headspace, and a few tears start to fall.
contains silly festerings of feelings, getting comfy with the D word, and a conversation that panics y/n far more than it should.
FIVE *
coming soonâŠ
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a @1800titz & @cherryjuiceblues collab
TWO PARTERS
HITCHHIKERRY Part 1 â @1800titz
The one in which thereâs an unsuspecting driver, a long, lewd drive, and a friendly hitchhiker with sunshine yellow nails and wicked intentions
HITCHHIKERRY Part 2 â @cherryjuiceblues
The one in which thereâs an alleyway, trailing fingertips and lingering questions, and the same sunshine yellow nails digging in
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Whose brand of soft!degradation would your prefer?
Lloyd and all his cooing about how needy and greedy you are, how drippy and shameless, until he has you whining and trying to hide, orâŠ
Andy, whoâs gonna tsk at how squirmy and desperate you are, how you canât even sit still and be patient like a good girl. But thatâs okay, if you wanna be bad, heâs more than happy to punish you đ
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style.
written by @lilystyles
my masterlist xx
authors note inspired by a dream i had about this boy HAHAHA so filthy but that's just him. (also i'm sorry if ur names emma! if it is it's still cute to best friends w ur name twin :3) ALSO it's also inspired by style (taylor's version)!
brief description y/n has had a crush on harry since they were kids but heâs off-limits. him being her best friendâs brother and all she has never made a move, knowing emma wouldnât approve. but lines are blurred one night and she doesnât know if she can follow the rules like a good girl.
warnings! slight age gap, SMUT (m!receiving, fingering, daddy kink, choking, missionary, doggy) sexual tension, mentions of drugs and alcohol abuse. wordcount: [around 11.4k words, also unedited sorry:(]
fratboy!older!bffsbrother!harry x younger!innocent!reader
* * * * *
Y/n wished she didnât fancy him. Oh, she wished it so badly.
On every shooting star or eyelash, she had to decide whether she would wish to forget him or for him to finally notice her, it was a constant tug of war between the two.
Honestly, there were so many things going against him. He was completely unavailable to her and she wondered if thatâs why she wanted him most. People always say you want what you canât have. He was older than her by a few years, he was hardly much wiser but liked to act as if he was.Â
Or maybe was it just that he was a total prick most of the time, like seriously, so mean?Â
She couldnât pinpoint what exactly attracted her to Harry the most. She knew why others liked him, it was because he was so fucking pretty you just wanted to cry. He was that kind of person. And obviously, she had noticed that slight minor detail.Â
She could agree that was one of the many reasons she had a massive crush on him. But sheâd known him for years before he was this fuckboy fratboy who wore backward caps with the body of a Greek god and the filthiest mouth youâd ever heard. She knew him before it all. She knew him when he was just her best friendâs goofy older brother, and sheâd liked him then too. Before he was smooth and his words had a sting, when he was just this little giggly loud guy.
She thinks to herself often that a piece of her would always belong to him, even if he didnât know that. She had tried to like other boys, many many times, and though she did like them she didnât feel even a smidge like how she felt when she saw Harry. The best way for her to describe being with someone who wasnât Harry was like being in a state of complete darkness, only this dull twinkle of stars without any moon, and then suddenly the sun came up, all these colours painting the sky as it rose. Harry was the sun for her and those boys were just the stars.
Nearly all the time she wished for a distraction from him but that was hard considering he was always around, Y/n saw him every time she went to their house it was like totally unavoidable. They ran into each other at parties even though he was a few years older, it didnât matter now they that all went to Uni together. She saw him everywhere! Even when she closed her eyes at night.
So tonight when she went out with Emma she was relieved and sad all at once that he wasnât at the party, it meant she let loose more than she usually did, completely free of the worry of his judgments. She had a few shots but not enough to get her as wasted as Emma was. They danced and sang, and enjoyed themselves. Exams had been stressful and they needed a fun night, theyâd spent months cooped up in the library using flashcards and reading the big textbooks. Y/n needed some time away from her laptop screen and desk. She needed to wear a tight dress, get flirted with, have some drinks and relax. She needed to fucking let loose.Â
She worked so hard and she was enjoying just forgetting all her worries, Harry included, for a few hours. Sweating and dancing to trashy music was something she had been dreaming of since the start of exam season.
However, the night had taken a slightly sour turn later in the evening when Emma took a few too many tequila shots in a row and spewed down herself, covering her pink dress and shoes and some of Y/nâs shoes too, in sick. She wished she could say this wasnât a recurring thing but Emma always took it a little too hard on nights out especially when her brooding older brother wasnât there to help team with Y/n and wrangle her home.
It wasnât too late probably only midnight, which usually meant they were only just getting started on their drunken shenanigans. But Y/n had to admit she was okay with going home, home being Emmaâs place she was roommates with Harry, they were fairly close siblings and their parents felt better knowing they were together. Y/n desperately wanted some water, maybe a snack and to lie down in Emmaâs comfortable bed.
As she was trying to find an Uber during the busiest time and hold Emma up from collapsing onto the floor a familiar Irish voice filled Y/nâs ears. She snapped her head around. Oh, thank god.
âBabe! Where are you two off to?âÂ
Y/n turned, âNiall! Hey, we are going home. Emma isnât feeling too well.â
Y/n had managed to clean most of the spew off in one of the bathrooms at the Uni share house the party was being thrown at, but Emma was all wet from being wiped down and Y/n knew she needed to get her home like now. She was fading and needed her bed and a bottle of water in her, she wasnât particularly worried but she would feel better if Harry was with her in case something happened.
âDâya want a lift? I havenât drunk anything Iâm on my way to Paddyâs place,â He said. He looked very sober.
Paddy was his most recent fling.Â
âYou are a gem, I could kiss you!â Y/n said squeezing his bicep in thanks.
Y/n was eternally grateful for him being her saviour, she slid Emma into the backseat and clipped her into the seatbelt, brushing the hair from her eyes. Even with sick all over she was still pretty, Y/n envied that the Styles family had such good genes it was ridiculous. They always looked gorgeous, Anne had created three beautiful children.
Niall knew where to go since he was friends with Harry too and Emma and Y/n of course.
Y/n kept checking through the mirror to make sure she was okay and when she saw the familiar home she sighed in relief at the sight. It was this fairly small duplex but their neighbours were nice and the house was one of Harryâs parentâs properties. So they had it pretty good for Uni students. Y/n was living in a big share-house with a bunch of other people. She wished she was this lucky.
She grabbed all their purses, jackets and keys before she kissed Niall on the cheek in thanks.Â
âLove you, Babe. Have fun with Paddy!â She winked, knowing Niall really liked this new guy.
Niall blushed a nice rosy colour. âNeed any help getting her in?â He asked diverting the conversation.
Y/n shook her head and the two girls stumbled to the front door. Emma was slightly more awake now, her arms slinging around Y/nâs shoulders making the straps of her dress fall as Y/n hunted for the keys in Emmaâs little clutch. Y/n had a key to their house for emergencies and she knew where they hid a spare, but she wasnât going to hunt around in the dark for it.
The door opened before she found them in the clutch which had ten lipsticks that she was rummaging through.
His eyes were so green she felt like they were glowing in the dark. He didnât say anything he just grabbed Emma and helped her inside. Whispering something to her kindly as Y/n made her way inside behind them. She toed her shoes off before she entered, not wanting to bring Emmaâs sick in any more than it already would be.Â
Y/n sighed shutting the door behind her as she placed all their things in Emmaâs room down the hall. Harry had put her on the bed and was taking her heels off for her. He was a good brother. He was protective over both his sisters even though Gemma was the oldest.
âShe always goes to fucking far,â He muttered more to himself than Y/n. Who was finding Emmaâs sleep clothes in her bedside drawers, knowing she couldnât sleep in the sick-covered ones.Â
He didnât sound annoyed at her or angry, just worried. He was a prick sure, but he cared about his family and friends. His small circle is what mattered most to him. Y/n knew his gruff and broody presence was the exterior of a very gentle soul. When he was at home drinking tea in pyjamas that was the real Harry, not some douchebag.
But she knew that he had a reputation for being a heartbreaker and a lot of people would warn you of him. But Y/n didnât think that was the real him.
Y/n nodded in agreement, tiredly pushing the hair from her eyes she wanted to tie it up it was sweaty from dancing.Â
âItâs okay, Niall helped me,â Y/n spoke softly as he stood up from the floor where heâd sat to take her shoes off. He was so much taller than Y/n, his face finally looking at hers now. She felt heat prickle up her back, and the hairs stand on her neck.Â
He had such an intense stare.
âI knew I shouldâve come,â He said. âI worry when you two are alone.â
Two? She thought. Heâd never really shown much protectiveness on his end over her, except when guys were being gross at bars or parties. Then he would give them a stern look and tell them to fuck off. But he did that for anyone, Y/n knew that she wasnât special. She always felt like Emma was his priority always and he didnât care what she did as long as Y/n got Emma home safe.
It was almost like he could hear her thoughts. âI donât like when either of you go without me. The stories Emma has told me about what they say to you Y/n, makes me feel sick honestly.â
She despised the way her stomach flipped. She was about to say that she managed okay without him. But his hand slid onto her shoulder pulling the little spaghetti strap back up over her shoulder.Â
She felt breathless but tried to snap back into her usual self. Feeling more pink than usual, Harry always seemed to have that effect on her.
âI- do your frat friends know how much of a softie you are deep down? Be careful now, Styles, I might go around telling them how nice you secretly are. Ruin that scary reputation of yours.â
He smirked in amusement, Y/n had this ability to melt away that hard shell, stripping him bare to his true self. He hated and loved it all at once, he felt like she saw right through him. Even when people said mean things about him, Y/n never wavered and sometimes even defended him. The only thing she didnât approve of was his restlessness towards women. He felt one was never enough, and was quite open about that with his hookups. Maybe he just didnât have the right one.
He left after that so Y/n could get Emma ready for bed. He was pottering about in the kitchen and making tea, she assumed. That was his late-night ritual usually.
Y/n shook Emma awake enough so she could help Y/n a little to get her into some pyjamas. She even got her make-up wipes out and removed all the makeup on Emmaâs face and tucked her into bed.
Y/n sighed tiredly at the effort of it all and felt sobered up almost completely now. Emma had an ensuite in her bedroom and Y/n decided to take a shower and wash the sick smell off her skin and the sweat from the club.Â
She washed her hair, face and body. Emma had a lot of really sweet expensive-smelling products, but Y/n had her own little section for when she stayed over. It was all coconut-scented. She felt herself begin to droop in fatigue when she finished cleaning herself. She got the last of the makeup the water hadnât washed off and changed into a random shirt from Emmaâs drawer and some fresh knickers from Y/nâs things sheâd left here.
Y/n was here more than she was at her own house. Emma always said sheâd kick Harry out and let Y/n take his place, but Y/n knew the siblings actually got on rather well. When Y/n was dressed for sleep she blow-dried her hair on the lowest setting so she wouldnât wake Emma up, but Emma could probably sleep through an earthquake she was a really deep sleeper. Then she plugged both their phones in and slid in beside Emma tiredly. She shut her eyes and turned off the fairy lights Emma had kept on, ready to lull off.
Y/n had been friends with Emma since they were little theyâd all grown up together in Holmes Chapel and it was the kind of place you were just friends with everyone because it was so small but Y/n had always been closest with the Styles family. They lived down the street from each other and Emma and Y/n were never seen without each other. So Harry was used to having Y/n around a lot too.Â
Growing up he had to make sure nothing happened to them, he was in charge but it was usually Emma giving him trouble Y/n was always a sweetheart, but she had a quick mouth with one-liners that almost knocked him over. He liked that about her, she was sweet but could challenge him feistily without much thought. Heâd met his match when it came to arguments.
Often when the parents went away Y/n would be over and Gemma and Harry would have to make sure neither of them got up to anything wild. But it was usually just a sleepover that consisted of them laughing until dawn. Harry was a much lighter sleeper so he would always tell them to shut up.Â
Harry woke up to the sound of a pin dropping rooms away, he didnât know how his sister could snore like a freight train and sleep through herself. He also didnât know how Y/n could share a bed with her. Sometimes heâd get up in the middle of the night for a wee or some water and would find Y/n on the couch with a pillow over her face trying to block out the noise of Emmaâs snoring.Â
So when he heard Y/n roaming about in the kitchen (he knew it was her because he could still hear Emma snoring) he pretended to need some water, wanting to see her. It was probably around 3 AM but he had been unable to sleep. And they hadnât talked much when she got home. He had wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, but he knew better. She had worn a dress that hugged all her features, it was black and simple. Hair done naturally, and makeup that was subtle but just made her that tiny bit more pretty. She always looked pretty though.
He came down the stairs from his room and walked into the kitchen. Y/n was using the fridge as a light to find things. She was making tea by the looks of things. She found some of the chamomile that she used every night, in turn, Harry added it to the weekly grocery list in case she slept the night there, and hadnât heard him creep downstairs.Â
She was in a big baggy dusty blue shirt that Harry actually thought was one Emma had stolen from him, and a pair of soft pink cotton knickers that were very small. Socks covered her feet making her practically silent. He stepped closer into the kitchen waiting for her to turn around and notice him.Â
She was trying to be very quiet in every step, knowing Harry was a very light sleeper, and not wanting to wake him. When she finally did look over her shoulder her body jolted in fright dropping the box of teabags onto the floor and a hand falling to her chest.Â
âJesus, H.â She whispered, raspily.Â
He let out a breathy laugh. âSorry, Lovie.â
She squinted in the dark trying to see him. His hair looked messy like heâd been sleeping and he was just in some boxers as PJs. He ran hot in the night.
âDid I wake you?â She asked a guilty look crossing her face. Her eyes softened as she nibbled on her bottom lip.
He shook his head. âNah. âAvenât been sleeping well.â
She frowned, not liking the sound of that. She didnât know why she cared, but she did. âDo you want a tea?â
He smiled, dimples showing. âYes please.â
She brewed two as he whispered the truth about why he didnât come out with them tonight. He was originally supposed to, and honestly, she had been slightly disappointed about it. Knowing sheâd have to handle Emma alone.
But he told her why, in a soft hushed voice. A few guys in his friendship group had said some really mean things to Harry. Not realising he would feel them so deeply, she thought, they must think he was as mean as he seems. He told the story like he wasnât phased by the mean comments, but Y/n could tell they had gotten to him. She knew better than his cold stone face.
âAlex said âI was a homewrecking prick and womanizerâ.â He explained when Y/n asked what the boys had said about him. He heard a hint of protectiveness in her voice when she asked with a pinched face, and he felt a tug in his lower tummy. Why did she care?
Y/n looked up from the mugs at him. The dim lighting of the fridge meant she could only see the outline of his body and the shadows of his features. She saw a glimpse of his eyes, and she could see the look in his eyes. He believed them, he believed those comments. They were glassy with discontentment.
Her eyebrows were pinched in empathy, and she was about to speak but he cut her off. âI know Iâm a total prick sometimes, butââ
She interrupted him, ââYou are a prick sometimes, but people who really know you know what you're like.â She tried to reason with him. Because she wasnât going to deny sometimes he would be just plain rude to her, and to others as well. But she also knew he did a lot of nice things too. He had a hard exterior and shied off people easily, if you didnât know him well he would seem rude. But all his close friends and family knew that he was just standoffish with new people. And loved to tease, and was brutally honest, which Y/n had to admit sometimes that hurt more than the teasing comments.Â
But he did nice things. Wonderful things, that he went out of his way to do. Like helped his sister when she was drunk, drove people home so they wouldnât have to walk in the dark after parties, picked Y/n up from the library at midnight if she was too scared to walk home, bought chamomile tea in case Y/n spent the night, made enough dinner in case Y/n was hungry, visited the girls when they were studying with snacks and coffee, and he even helped sometimes if they were confused on work. He called his Mum every day without fail and sent his Grandma photos of birds when he saw them.Â
He baked a new type of cookie recipe every Sunday and gave it to his friends. He adopted stray cats and played Scrabble with his grandparents every few weekends.
Yes, he was a prick, he said mean things and made fun of Y/n when she went on dates with idiots, and he called her names, filthy ones. And sometimes he would barely acknowledge her. But she knew there was a different reason for that, something she didnât understand. Something between just the two of them. She thought maybe it was just a way for him to protect his sensitive side from people. From her too, hide himself away.
And yes, he did have sex with lots of people, but he did always tell people the truth before getting involved with anyone. He was honest, and open when it came to his boundaries. Y/n thought that was better than lying and acting like you wanted a relationship just so you can fuck someone. She wasnât saying she approved of Harryâs constant line of girls coming over, maybe that was her jealousy talking, but she wasnât going to judge him for doing what lots of people did and owning that he did it. He would never kiss and tell, he was respectful and clear with his intentions. What more could you ask of a fuck buddy or one-night stand? If you wanted a good shag no strings attached Harry was your guy, and surely most people knew from the rumours? She just didnât understand why people put themself in that position if they knew what they were getting into with him.
He wasnât a devious person who hid behind a mask of fake sincerity to get in your pants. He was blunt, he asked if you wanted to fuck and if you didnât that was fine. He wasnât picky with it either he just liked to have a good time.
She felt differently about being with a person. She usually only wanted to be with someone she had an emotional connection with. But she had a smaller level of experience than Harry, so she thought that maybe she was coming from the point of view of a less experienced person. But the point remained, Harry had his flaws, like anyone but he was good at his core. His intentions remained good. No one is perfect, and she knew Harry was far from it but so was everyone she knew!
She knew her flaws too. Flaws made people human. And she appreciated him despite it all.
âAnd what is that?â He was standing closer now and she felt suddenly very aware of the fact she was only in knickers and a shirt her nipples could be seen through. The way he was staring her down made her aware of her appearance, he looked almost hungry.
âWell as someone whoâs known you for as long as I can remember. Youâre kind, honest, open, and a good person with a rotten mouth.â She looked away from him as she spoke, flushed by his close presence. She tried not to stumble on her words but was struggling and honestly felt her hands tremble when she felt his breath hit her neck.
âKind?â He scoffed eyes trained on her face, it was free of makeup. Her lips looked pouty and her eyes droopy in tiredness. She looked perfect. She always did. Even that one week during the bleak middle of winter when she had been sick as a dog; red nose, glassy eyes, snotty and nasally, hair unwashed, skin red, sheâd looked beautiful.
âHarry,â She said his name meaning she was serious, she usually called him anything but, âthese fucking friends of yours clearly donât see you like we do.â
âWe?â
She leaned back against the drawers sighing, âWe. Me, Emma, Niall, Gem, Anne. People who know you, people who love you.â
âYou love me?â He teased.Â
She rolled her eyes. Of course, thatâs what he got from that. He was so annoying. Â
âYouâre alright.â She replied, they both knew she did, handing him the tea. He said a quiet thanks.
He placed it back down, where Y/n was letting hers cool. The face she had made smile only seconds prior melted back to a stoic look, more serious.
He hugged her and Y/n was surprised, but she wrapped her arms around him. He pulled back when he started to get intoxicated on her sweet scent, her skin smelt edible and her hair was soft against his cheek.
âIâm sorry if Iâm a prick to you.â
Y/n didnât mean to but she laughed. A giggle bubbled from her tummy out of her mouth her as she crossed her arms over her chest.
âWhat?â He said, fighting back the smile that threatened to tug on his lips. It was contagious. He was trying to keep his attention very far from her chest.
She didnât know what made her say it but, but she told him the truth. âI like it. It's like a game we have. A Harry and Y/n one. I tease you, you tease me. You act like I donât exist most of the time and I act like I donât care. Youâre mean to me and I let you be.â
Hearing her say it out loud was kind of like being winded. It had always been their game, a game neither mentioned, some sort of unspoken thing they shared.Â
She could tell he was kind of speechless.Â
âI donât know why I let you.â Now that was a lie. She was trying to backtrack.Â
âI do.â He said stepping closer. His bare legs were pressing into hers. She didnât say anything, waiting for him to tell her. But he didnât.
âYou gonna tell me?â She said quietly, eyes widely looking up into his, as his hands rested on either side of her on the bench. He leaned in closely. So they were eye to eye.
She was trapped in his arms and had nowhere to look but at him, she squirmed under his smouldering eyes.
âYou know why too.â
She didnât speak. What did any of this mean? She had waited a long time to hear him apologise for being a dick to her, and he just did and sheâd told him that she liked him treating her that way. What she meant was, that she liked him, she let him treat her that way because for Harry she would do anything. She didnât care if that made her pathetic, at least she knew it was, at least she could admit it. I mean, wouldnât you let him treat you like shit under his shoe if it meant he was at least looking at you with those gorgeous eyes? Could hardly blame the girl.
âWhy did you have to meet Emma before you met me?â He almost whined with a soft scoff. As if complaining at fateâs hands for dealing them these cards.
She felt her heart rate speed up.Â
âWhat do you mean?â She asked, playing dumb. He was talking so much and she was practically drunk on his sultry voice. It was so deep and she just wanted to hold onto the sound forever and feel it melt into her spine like it was now, and listen when she wanted to sink into a state of lust.
He lifted one of his arms and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, âThen sheâd be the one who has to follow my rules, and stay away from you. I could be the one in control. Have you all to myself. No sharing.â
Y/n licked her drying lips, as she processed his words. He wanted her all to himself? âWait, wait, she has a rule to stay away from me?â
Y/n knew Emma didnât like it when her friends slept with Harry, it was just weird and they would always complain about how mean he was after, or even try and talk about how good he was in bed. She just didnât like her friends dating or having anything to do with Harry period. But she assumed it was different for Y/n since she knew Harry pretty well and would consider him someone in her close circle. Even if he did ignore her a lot. She assumed she was fine with Harry and Y/n at least being friends. Y/n had bottled all her feelings away for years, she didnât think that would ever change. Even if Harry liked her back, she wouldnât do anything to jeopardise their friendship.
âYouâre her friend, not mine.â He said, mocking Emmaâs tone, making his voice all squeaky and high-pitched.
Y/n frowned. Emma had always been weird about this. She could understand to some extent, but sometimes Y/n wished she could just have a normal conversation with Harry. âWhy canât we be friends? Iâve known you my whole life, and havenât slept with you. I think I should be allowed to have a conversation with you. I think I can handle that without pulling my pants down.â
Harryâs lips kicked up in a smirk, âYou arenât wearinâ any pants.â
âOh shut up.â She replied cheeks bleeding pink.
âShe trusts you.â Harry said trying to make Y/n feel better, âShe just doesnât trust me.â
Y/n smiled at that, trying to lighten the mood once again. âWho would? I mean this with respect, but you are a bit of a slut.â Her hand came up to play with the cross on his neck.
He giggled, âI simply enjoy myself openly. You should try, Y/n, itâs fun beinâ bad.â
She felt her cheeks warm further, âI can be bad,â Y/n argued but it was no use.
âOh thasâ such a lie, Baby.â He laughed at her statement rolling his eyes, and Y/nâs heart skipped a beat at the nickname. Heâd never called her that before and it brought a rose colour to her cheeks that Harry adored on her. She was so easy to make nervous. But he didnât think anyone was as good at it as he was.
âItâs not,â She pouted.Â
He cocked his head in challenge. âName one naughty thing youâve done then. Bet yâcant.â
She tried to think, that growing up she was relatively good and even now she hardly participated in much other than seeing Emma or Niall and studying. But she felt this urge to impress him, make him proud almost. Or at least shock him.
âI stole a lolly once.â
Harry found a smile slipping onto his face, heâd always seen Y/n as a fairly innocent person. And she was, for the most part. Soft and sweet in real life, like a bunny or puppy. So soft, and you just want to pick her up and put her in your arms and tell her how cute she is. But she had some mischievousness to her, like all people. Something buried underneath her innocent aura, Harry thought of that side of her often pondering what she was like when she wasnât hiding and sheâd been cracked open raw and teased beyond return.
âOh yeah? Anything else?â
She tried to think of what would shock him but she fell flat. Untilâbut no she couldnât say that, it way was too personal.Â
âI can see you thinking very hard, câmon tell me.â He whispered. Y/n shut her eyes. His voice sent shivers down her spine.
Fuck it. It was like she had no control over her mouth, the filth just slipped right out of her pouty lips. She wanted to blame the alcohol, but it was probably just his voice that had her feeling intoxicated.
âSometimes when I touch myself I think you.â
Harry practically froze, his lips opening to show he was indeed very surprised to hear that. There was a beat and Y/n didnât know if she regretted it or not. She was about to tell him it was a joke and run for her life. Change her name, and move to Mexico. Her Duolingo lessons werenât going to be enough to get by, sheâd have to start really learning how to speak properly now.
Until.Â
âWhat do you think about, Y/n?â
She felt herself getting hot, sheâd really fucked herself here. He would never let this go. Call it the tequila but Y/n wasnât lying. Truthfully the only thing that got her off was Harry, she couldnât cum unless his green eyes flashed in her vision. Which she did feel bad about like she was a pervert. But believe that sheâd tried to think of others, or watching porn. But she could only ever think of him. Otherwise, it wasnât as good, and she didnât get the release she was chasing.
âA lot of filthy things, H.â
He bit his lip, âLike what?â
He could sense her getting shy once more as she crossed her arms and looked at her feet, cheeks all pink and pinchable. âDonât get all shy on me now, Baby, whatever youâve touched your lilâ clit too Iâve probably stroked mâcock too.â
Y/n was surprised, head snapping up at his words, and though he was normally very honest even he seemed a bit more nervous to admit it. He was just as bad as her. And he had such a filthy mouth, but that was not a surprise to her. She was just surprised he thought of her, she never saw herself as particularly desirable. She always imagined Harry to like those people who look good running in slow motion.
It took a lot of courage as she began to speak. âI usually think about youâŠfucking my throat, using my mouth however you like. I like the idea of those hands pulling on mâhair.â
Harry felt his pants twitch. His expression and dark eyes egged her on to continue. He didnât know she was such a little minx. Heâd always imagine her to like soft, gentle caresses. Which wouldnât have bothered him, though he was fairly kinky, but he wouldâve done whatever she liked.
She didnât know if he would like this but she felt brave, âLike the idea of calling you DaddyâŠ.Want to be good fâyou, Daddy.â
Thatâs what made Harry unable to keep his hands by his sides. He grabbed her face forcing her to look into his eyes.Â
âWanna be good?â
She nodded coyly, eyes wide. His hands were warm and she practically melted into them.
âSleep upstairs tonight then.â He didnât ask her, he simply instructed her. And who was she to say no?Â
She nodded once again and he patted her lower back as if to say off you go then. She listened and walked slowly in front of him. She felt his presence close by, the sweet citrus and woodsy scent that followed him was right by her nose and she could hear his slow calm breaths.
Her beating heart was thumping against her chest and she wondered how it didnât fill the quiet house (besides Emmaâs window-rattling snores).
He noticed her shaky and anxious energy and his hand slipped onto her waist. âI jusâ wanna hear about yâdreams somewhere comfier, Petal, if thasâ all yehâ want thatâs all weâll do. Plus Iâm saving yâfrom mâlumpy couch.â
She couldnât complain about that.Â
As they walked inside she was welcomed to the scent of Harry, sheâd only been in Harryâs room a few times, but never properly. He ushered her to the bed and she sat down tucking her knees to her chest and resting her chin. Examining the walls of famous singers and art that covered it. In the corner by his desk where the only source of light in his room was a glowing lamp, other than some fairy lights above his bed, was a little picture wall.
In the mess of polaroids and film, she saw one of Y/n, Emma and Harry when the two girls had graduated school. He was between them arms around their shoulders and looking to his left at Y/n who was laughing happily with Emma at Gemma who made some joke about something. Y/n knew the picture instantly because it was one of her favourites of him.
âWhat else, Baby?â He said softly sitting in front of her, interrupting her thoughts of that day when heâd driven home to visit them for it, and looked over to see him leaning against the headboard, arms interlocked behind his head.Â
âYou go.â She said, which made Harry laugh.
âIâm pretty filthy Honey, you know me. I donât know if itâll be something you like.â
She looked at him stubbornly. âTry me.â
He shut his eyes and only now did she see he was nervous too, âI often find myself thinking about you on your tummy, underneath me, letting me stuff you full while my hands pin yours to your back so that youâre at my mercy.â
She liked that, her tummy twisted in yerning. âIâd like you to be in charge. Help me forget.â
He was looking at her like she was the sweetest most edible thing. âCan I kiss you?â
She nodded and he placed his hands in her hair, kissing her softly at first just a whisper of a touch of two mouths moulding into one. She leaned in further into the warmth of him and hugged her arms around his broad shoulders as the kiss began to deepen, he tasted like a hint of beer and minty toothpaste. Her chest burned with what only could be described as Harry.Â
He moaned into her mouth softly, sighing at the taste of her sweet tea-soaked lips. The warmth of her curves pressing into him was comforting, and though he had a desire to completely ruin her until she was crying his name, he liked taking it slow and enjoying this first kiss with her. Exploring her mouth, teasing his tongue against hers, and soft hands roaming up and down her back.Â
He rubbed her back under the soft shirt, no bra strap blocking his gentle scratches. She arched into his touch.
After all, heâd been dreaming of it for years and he wanted to take his time, even though he was crazy for her and felt this deep animalistic desire, he was gentle with her. Like she could break if he was too rough.
The kiss began to pick up as she slid into his lap, and he encouraged her to rub against his bare thigh. She ground against his tiger tattoo and he could feel the wetness between her thighs leaking onto him already. She moved slowly and uncertainly, his hands moved from her shoulders down to her hips forcefully moving her against him creating friction that made her create a soft whiney noise in the back of her throat. He swallowed the sounds eagerly.
He pulled his lips away breathlessly and dragged his mouth down the column of her throat, kissing sucking and biting wherever he could. Her skin was soft and she smelt like coconuts and something that was just her. He wouldâve eaten her whole if he could. She let out soft breaths and sighs, her hips had stopped moving â too distracted by his magical lips.Â
He stopped to look at her. Really looking.
Her lips were more red, almost like sheâd been nibbling on them, and they were all swollen from his kissing. Her cheeks were dusted in a warm pink. Eyes wild and doe-eyed looking up at him. She was picturesque. He wanted to remember her like this forever and be able to come back to this moment at any time. He soaked it in, hoping to remember.
âYou seriously are the most beautiful creature Iâve ever seen.â He said softly running his big hands through her messy hair. His rings were cool on her skin.
âHarry, donât.â She said bringing her hands to cover her blushing face.
He sighed. âIâm sorry for not telling you every second of every day.â
âDonât lie, H. Iâve seen the girls you fancy.â
âOnly ever fancied you.â He said his hands grabbing hers and moving them away she looked at him, shocked. âOnly ever look for your face in a crowd, Baby.â
She didnât know what to say so she kissed him and he moaned softly when she rubbed herself against him. He was getting harder and harder with each movement until eventually she stopped and moved away.Â
âCan I suck you off?â She asked, and the filth was shocking to hear from her soft voice and lips.
He nodded hand stroking her cheek. âYeah, âcourse.â
She moved down to her tummy between his thighs and looked up at him. âI donât really know what Iâm doing.â She whispered.Â
He laughed softly, there she was, there was his Y/n. âThasâ okay, Love, Iâll teach you.â
She slid her hand up his thigh and her fingers found their way into the waistband of his boxers and began to tug them down when he gave her a nod of approval. His stiff dick sprung out against his tummy, and he was completely naked for her. The head of his cock was oozing precum and it dripped down to his balls. Even his dick was pretty. Which she shouldâve expected.
It had a blush-coloured tip similar to the shade of his lips, he was veiny and long. So long that he reached his belly button. He was girthy too and as she moved her hand to wrap around it, he hissed at the contact, and she almost dropped her jaw at the fact her fingers werenât touching. He smirked down at her.
Her reaction was boosting his ego in just the right way.
âYou alright down there, Petal?â
She nodded, her lips grazing against his now throbbing cock. He ached for her. The sight of the swell of her ass and plush thighs was making him very needy.Â
And to the surprise of them both she pursed her lips and spat down onto his dick. She was basically drooling all over him, it leaked down over the length of him coating his prick and he practically whimpered at the sight â it was one of his dreams. She then took him into her mouth and began to suck and lick, slowly taking him deeper and deeper.Â
His hands had slipped into her hair holding it back from her face and he was letting out loud gravelly moans and sighs of pleasure. He was trying to stop his hips from rolling up into her throat. Her mouth was so deliciously warm and tight against him, he felt like a man deprived of water near a watering hole. Her tongue glided around swirling and sucking and teasing the tip of him. When she began to fondle his balls as well, gently massaging them, he let out a particularly loud whiney noise. She popped out off of him.Â
âShh, donât wanna wake Emma up.â She said before dripping another trickle of spit onto him and continuing her fast and merciless pace on him.Â
âCanât help it, when you take me like that. Sâfucking good.â He said, as his hips jutted into her throat roughly, without realising. âShit, fuck, sorry,â He said hearing her throat gag on him.
She just went deeper onto him, until her nose was tickled by the snail trail on his tummy. Pulling back when all her breath had gone. She hardly needed to be taught.
She took deep breaths of air and stroked him slowly in her hand, he was panting at her touch.Â
âYou can use my throat however yâlike, Daddy.â She said, voice all raw from his cock having stuffed it just seconds ago, before going back down onto him.
âJust tap mâleg if you need me to stop,â He said and she nodded making a noise around him. His hands pulled her hair up away from her eyes. âsuchaâ good fuckinâ girl.â He said pushing her head down once more. Again and again, until he was close to cumming. Which had happened fast, and he didnât have it in him to be embarrassed.
His balls ached for release and her teasing little hands that twisted and stroked him, along with her tongue, had him so loud heâd taken to biting his lip in an attempt to keep his sounds from slipping out. He pulled her off him stroking her cheek gently, swiping some tears away. Her eyes had begun to leak with tears from how deep she was taking him, and it made him throb.
âGonnaâ cum soon, Baby.â
She nodded. âLet me have it please, want your cum. Want it all.â
He stuffed her mouth once more at her words, rutting into her throat until she was gagging and coughing around him. His eyes squeezed shut, âOh fuck, cumminâ,â he hissed. Opening his eyes to watch the sight below him.
Her eyes looked up at him, and thatâs what sent him over the edge. With one last thrust, he was cumming, hard, so hard his eyes saw white spots and he shuddered into her. She pulled back coughing, sheâd swallowed as much as she could but some of it made its way out and dribbled down her chin. She swiped the rest with her thumb and licked it up.
She was just perfect.
He pulled her up by her chin and kissed her.Â
âThat was the best blowjob Iâve ever had.â He kissed her again before asking her, âLet Daddy take care of yaâ now, is that what yâwant sweet girl?â
She nodded. âYes please.â
âGood girl. So polite.â He said kissing her forehead. His hand slipped into her underwear circling her clit, which was slick with arousal. âSo wet for me.â
She sighed leaning closer to his shoulder, pressing her forehead into him to cover her whines. He started to circle her clit faster, and her hips squirmed against his hand he then started teasing her weeping hole. She moaned deliciously into his neck. Felt so good.
âCome rest against me, my love.â She shifted her body at his command and turned to face away from him. Pushing her back into his chest, her bum tucked right against his stiffy. His legs spread open for her to sit in front of him and he grabbed the waistband of her undies pushing her undies down and she threw them to the side with her ankle. She leaned into his shoulder head tipped back and he watched from over her shoulder. Just like the rest of her, her pussy was beautiful. It was glistening in slick and begging for his attention. Beautiful and spread for him like a flower, her swollen bud was puffy and eager to be sucked, licked, and teased.
His hand slipped past her tummy and began to rub her softly coating his finger in her slick, preparing her for him to slip his fingers in. She sighed breathlessly.Â
âPlease, Daddy.â She whispered which made his cock twitch from behind her, she felt against her back.
He slowly slipped one in and her mouth opened but no sound came out until he was all the way inside, knuckle deep, which made her let out a broken cry. âOh fuck, Harry.â
He began to thrust and curl his finger, moving faster and faster. Her tight pussy clamped down onto him, pulsing every few seconds, as she cried out softly into the room. Her cheeks bloomed with warmth and her body squirmed in pleasure as his other hand kept her legs spread for him. His thumb drew lazy circles on her puffy clit which had her pussy leaking even more onto his finger.
âLike when Daddy takes you like this?â
She nodded. âMm.â
âSay it, Baby, tell me you like it.â
âI lov-love it when you take me like this.â Her voice was so soft and airy.
He began kissing her neck and shoulder, sucking a mark near her ear. She was too distracted to care about it leaving a mark tomorrow. âMy pretty Baby, likes when I tease her little pussy?â
She made a whiney noise and her legs twitched almost shutting.
âSo sensitive fâme.â
He slipped another finger inside her and she dripped out even more onto him, crying out softly into the hand sheâd brought to her mouth, her slick trickled down her thighs too now and he didnât slow his movements only went harder and faster into her. Loving the way she melted into his touch.
âGunnaâ cum for Daddy?â
She nodded biting her lip. ââFeels so good. Iâm goinâ taâ cum soon, Daddy.â
He kept going kissing her skin and massaging her thighs and breasts and eventually her legs shook hard, and shut on his hand and she cried out and pulsed rapidly around his fingers, and he could only imagine how good heâd feel with her cumming on his cock like that. She looked so beautiful he felt like he might cum then and there on her back without having even touched himself. As the peak of her orgasm washed over her he slid his fingers out of her and brought them to her lips, giving her just the middle finger.
âSuck,â He told her.
She obeyed sucking dazedly still trying to calm down from her orgasm, when he pulled it out he brought the other one to his lips.
âMm.â He said softly, she tasted tangy and sweet.Â
She took some deep breaths as he held her close. âThank you.â She whispered softly, shutting her eyes and catching her breath, she canât remember the last time she came like that. So hard that she felt it in her entire body, so hard she saw stars and couldnât contain her noises.
âSuchaâ good girl, youâre welcome my sweet girl.â She turned her head to the side and kissed him, very softly and slowly. Nothing feverish and rushed like their previous actions and his hands massaged her bare hips, kneading her plush flesh contently. God, she was just so soft, so warm, so wet, and so perfect. It was like heâd dreamt but better, if that was even possible. He was drunk on her touch.
When she pulled away she looked up at him. âI want your cock, please, I need it.â Her little pleads made his balls ache, and he wouldnât have to be asked twice by her.
âOkay, Baby.â He said running a hand through his hair. She lifted her shirt over her head and threw it aside, completely bare, so perfect to him. Her nipples harden at the cool air, and her skin pimpled. Her body was perfect, every scar, mole, mark, and spot heâd have happily kissed and run his over for hours if sheâd allow it.
He grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed and placed it down in the middle of the bed right in front of her. âWhy donât you lie on your tummy fâme, Petal? Rest on the pillow.â
She nodded and put her hips in line with the pillow, her bum sticking in the air ready for him. His hands rubbed her softly, her skin was so smooth under his hands and he wanted to sink his teeth into her plush flesh. She was so fucking perfect, and the way their bodies knew exactly what to do to the other was just magic like they were made for one another. Just like a pair of contrasting colours splashed on a canvas together, it just worked.
âOne sec,â He said leaning over to his bedside table pulling out a condom and ripping it open. He slid it over his leaking prick that was already standing tall at the sound of Y/nâs soft moans and perfect, wet, pussy that was waiting to be stuffed full of him.Â
Before he slid himself inside her she turned to look over her shoulder. âI âavenât in a while. Be gentle please, Harry.â
He kissed her forehead, ââCourse, Gorgeous.â
He held her hand in his reassuringly as he slowly dipped the tip inside of her, feeling her begin to stretch for him. She was tight, from nerves and the fact he was just so fucking large. She wasnât nervous because of anything being wrong, she just wanted Harry to like her. She didnât know how, but he had this incredible talent of making her nervous always. He was just so much more experienced, older, and had much more sex than her. She just worried she wouldnât be up to his standards.
But when he began to coo her gently and rubbed her back and bum with his hands to relax her, she began to feel less nervous. Harry, though a prick with a filthy mouth and a bit of an attitude problem, would never want anything bad to happen to her and liked her for who she was, as she was. Theyâd been around each other for years after all, and with that sort of time, you just understand each other. He was a mean prick who had sex with just about anyone and she was a naive good girl who strayed from any attention. But they could still appreciate their differences. She was pleasantly surprised at how well their bodies understood each other too. His cock was the perfect fit for her, and she melted into the pain.
Her thoughts of nervousness were lost when he had stuffed her completely full of him, she could feel the tip of him teasing that spot inside her that she could only ever reach with toys, she let out a whimper. âFuck, Harry.â
It was millions of times better than anything sheâd ever experienced.
He hissed throwing his head back, feeling her stretch around him. âSo tight, Love.â
He began to move, keeping true to his word, slow and gentle thrusts. Remaining as shallow with his movements as someone could with a cock that big.
Y/nâs eyes watered in a mix of pain and pleasure. Her hand flew back again to grab his wrist. âSâbig, Daddy.â
He moaned at the name, it was just so fucking cute coming from her. He wanted to take care of her when she acted all needy like that, âYeah? Feels big inside your little pussy, doesnât it?â
God, he was filthy, he made her stomach curl with desire. She never thought sheâd like dirty talk all that much, before this sheâd felt it was corny coming from boys but coming from his lips it was the closest thing to heaven sheâd ever heard.
She nodded into the bed and took her hand back to grip the sheets but he grabbed her hands and held them behind her back. He used them as leverage to push her back onto him, pinning her hands back, just like he said.
âFeeling alright, Baby?â He asked.Â
And she nodded once more.Â
âTell me.â He told her.
âFeels fuckinâ amazing.â She said struggling to find the words, her orgasm had made her foggy and his cock bottoming out made it difficult to think of anything else.
âFeel so good on mâcock, fucking made to take it, Y/n.â
That made her shiver, the pain had started to subside turning into just pleasure now. âCan go faster, H.â She said just above a whisper.Â
As he began to go faster and deeper like heâd been desperate to, she got louder and louder, and her pussy made these filthy noises against his cock. He was ruining her completely and she was enjoying every moment. Her eyes turned glossy in pleasure.
He let go of her hands to grab her hips and push her back harder, she began to move her hips to meet his, and he cried out.Â
âFuck,â He swore, tossing his head back stray curlings falling over his eyes when he looked back down at her.
He squeezed the flesh of her ass and moved his hand forward onto her hair gently tugging it backward, as he began to pound into her even harder.Â
âSuch a pretty little thing, letting me ruin you, what a good girl.â He said his voice all rough and coarse.
She keened clawing at the bed, âFeels so fucking good, Daddy, I love it thank you.â
Even in bed, she was so polite and obedient, that he wondered what she would be like after being edged for a while. Would her obedience turn to brattiness? He would have to try another time. Made him speed up even more at the thought.
âWanna see thaâ pretty face while yâtaking mâcock,â He said deciding to turn her onto her back he got rid of the pillow, flipping her to face him. Her cheeks were flushed rosy pink, her hair a mess from his pulling, and her eyes were practically black her pupils had gotten so big. She was perfect, his perfect good girl, and so beautiful he couldâve cum just looking at her.
He leaned down kissing her lips, as he continued his thrusts. He dragged his lips down along her jaw and down until he had one of her breasts in his mouth. Her nipples were sensitive to his tongue and her hands moved from his hair to his shoulders, scratching along the peaks of his back. She felt so close, she couldnât control any part of herself.
He moved his attention across to the other nipple, massaging the one that had just been marked with his mouth. She was moaning breathily, back arching up into him. She was so sensitive to his touch, so much so that every brush of skin that he dared to touch felt like it was on fire.Â
âIâm getting close, Daddy.â She said and he began going even deeper, he could tell by the way her pussy was clamping down onto his prick harder and harder and more often that she was on the brink. It made his stomach turn.
âAtta girl, cum on Daddyâs cock.â Her legs were shaking and she screwed her eyes shut at his words.Â
âDonât stop, please.â She said, clawing his back.Â
He didnât dare change anything he was doing, he stayed hitting that spot deep inside her that made her scream out and claw him extra tightly. She pulled him closer so his mouth was hovering over hers, her legs wrapped around his back and she clawed his arms desperate for her release. She felt her stomach unravelling in the familiar feeling of her orgasm.Â
âGonna- fuck, gonna cum!âÂ
He felt her pulse rapidly on his cock and whined into her lips at the feeling. She made guttural moaning noise, all loud and high, as her legs squirmed and she shook around him. He helped her through her orgasm, stroking her cheek with his hands pecking her lips until she came down from it.
It was even more intense than her first and his cock greedily continued pounding her hardly giving her a chance to rest. He moved her leg up a bit higher against his hip and began to hit that spot even harder than before.Â
She whined hands reaching up to his hair, tugging it, and he moaned. He loved it when she did that
âCan you handle another, sweet girl?â He asked he had no shame in wanting to watch her cum once more. It was too beautiful of a sight you couldnât blame him, he was greedy for more.
And she nodded tiredly. âThink so. Might have to make me take it though, Daddy.â
Her voice drove him up the wall. âFuck, so fucking perfect fâme. Love this pussy.â He moved his hand down to rub her clit, he wanted to speed up this next orgasm to be in time with his, and he knew he wouldnât last much longer. Watching his cock disappear in her was a sight he hoped to hold onto in his mind. It made his eyes roll back in his head.Â
He kept throwing his head back and grunting as he continued the final stretch before his orgasm.
âCan you choke me, please? Wanna cum with your hand around mâthroat, please.â She asked and it took him by surprise. Little innocent Y/n liked being choked too? God, this really was his idea of heaven.Â
âPlease, what?â He asked sternly.
âPlease, Daddy.â
He smirked, and Y/n knew she was done for. He slipped his free hand around her throat, rings cold to her neck as squeezed the sides, he watched her become dizzy with pleasure and she start to show signs of cumming again, which was good because he didnât know if heâd last much longer.
âCum for me please, Princess, milk me with that perfect pussy.â He said his voice all rough and slurring, his pussy had him losing his mind. He was so far gone.
With a few more circles on her clit, and deep thrusts she was squirting all over his cock with an intense grip on his prick. He felt her drip down him around his cock making creating more friction for him to continue his merciless pace.
âCumming,â She cried out loudly lifting a hand to her mouth to cover it, and Harry had honestly forgotten they were supposed to be quiet. The only thing on his mind was filling her with his cum. She was still feeling the wave of her orgasm wash over her and was loose-lipped and limp as Harry started to feel the knot in his tummy unravel in a familiar feeling of complete pleasure.
Her pulsing pussy was squeezing his cock so hard he couldnât wait any longer. âGetting close, Baby.â
âCum for me Daddy, please want your cum so bad,â She pleaded. He released his grip from her throat and let his forehead press into her shoulder as she pulled him closer. Hands scratching his hair and hugging him close to her body. Craving him.Â
âFuck, cumminâ Y/n, cumminâ.â He said as his cock twitched hard while he bottom out of her, when his loud moans began to spill from his lips she brought their mouths together and he moaned against her swollen lips.Â
Even after cumming he stayed inside her for a moment, absolutely spent, head resting on her shoulder. She gently rubbed his back with her hands and didnât mind him staying close. Eventually, he lifted off of her and kissed her forehead before pulling out, she winced at the feeling of him pulling out of her ruined pussy.
âOne sec, Love.â
She nodded. And shifted her hips knowing tomorrow morning sheâd struggle to sit. Her hips would probably be bruised and her body would ache, but she did not care one bit. She wouldnât change what had just happened. She had the best orgasms of her entire life, and Harry seemed pretty content too. And it had been with Harry, of all people it had been with the one person she wasn't supposed to get with.
He tied off the condom and threw it in a little bin by his desk. He walked inside the en suite in his room (heâd won the coin toss), and wet a flannel. He came back with a warm cloth to wipe her down. She squirmed at his touch, feeling very sore and sensitive. âSorry, Love, I know, but canât have yaâ all sticky before bed can I?â
She just nodded once again. He put the flannel back in the sink and switched the light off coming back out to find Y/n limp and star-fished in the middle of his bed on the mess of his sheets. She looked completely spent, her three orgasms had tired her out so much.Â
âYâ want something to wear?â He asked.Â
She nodded. âThanks, Styles.â
He smiled at her usual name for him. âWhat happened to Daddy?â
âOh, shut up.â She said blushing, he was probably going to keep bringing that up whenever he could, just to tease her.Â
He grabbed a big baggy black shirt and some plaid boxers for from his drawer.
âYâso cute when you blush, you know?â
She frowned hands moving to her face. âStoppp!â She whispered loudly.
He handed her the clothes and helped her slide into them, and she half expected to be sent back to the couch downstairs and told thanks for the shag, but he pulled the duvet down the bed and patted the middle of the bed for her to sleep there. She moved to lay in the spot and Harry placed the duvet over her.Â
Sliding back on his boxers from before, and running a hand through his messy sweaty hair he looked over at her. âIâll get us some water, be right back.â
She nodded. âAlright.â
When he came back with two glasses of water he placed them on the bedside table and sighed before rolling in beside her. She turned to face him. âHi,â she said with a giggle.
âHi.â He replied with a small laugh too.Â
âYour bed's very comfy, Styles.â
âBetter than mâcouch.â He replied sliding a hand onto her waist to rub her side, soothing her into a restful sleep.
âMuch better, shouldâve shagged you sooner if it meant bed privileges.â
He scoffed playfully, âOnly using me for my cock and the comfy bed, aye?â
She laughed back. âYeah, obviously, why else?â
He pulled her even closer and turned the tone more serious. âThank you for before,â
She frowned confusedly. âThe blowjob?â
He laughed softly. âNo, in the kitchen.â
She laughed at herself. âOh right,â She said lifting her hand to stroke his cheek which he leaned into. âWell, I like your rotten mouth and shocking brutal honesty and all the rest of you. Donât worry about those guys.â
He leaned closer, a teasing expression lighting up his face. âYou like me?â
She just rolled her eyes, shoving his shoulder playfully.Â
âI like you too.â
This made her blush. âGo to sleep.â
âCâmere then,âÂ
She got even closer and fell asleep to the beat of his heart and gentle caress on her back.
The following morning, she woke up early, which was very unlike her, and in a total panic, that Emma might have noticed she was missing from the couch. Harry groaned grabbing her, âDonât go.â
âHave to, Emâs gonna notice, sheâd kill us both.â She said, voice all raspy and eyes bleary.Â
He whined not letting go. âStupid Emma.â
âShh. Iâll see you later.â She was about to leave back downstairs, but he grabbed her and she watched him waiting for what else wanted from her.Â
âKiss?â
She leaned down and pecked his lips which he smiled at shutting his eyes to go back to sleep, and she left sneaking back downstairs. Sluggishly wrapping the blanket around her and shutting her eyes, even though she was much too giddy to sleep.Â
When Emma woke up with a throbbing head she smiled at Y/n and she started making coffee quietly since her head couldnât handle anything loud. This made Y/n stir, sitting up and turning the telly on sleepily. A re-run of Friends was on and she wrapped herself up in the blanket and sat back watching.
Emma wordlessly passed her a coffee and sat beside her, stealing some of the blanket. They spent the rest of the episode in silence just huddling together for warmth and sipping away tiredly, until Harryâs footsteps could be heard creaking down the stairs.
âWant some pancakes, children?â
The pair nodded.Â
Y/n looked over at him smiling to herself, heâd changed into a loose navy crewneck and some pyjama pants. He looked gorgeous, and she was reminded of last night. She'd liked him for years, and now she'd done filthy things with him, would she ever recover?
When the pancakes were ready they all sat together at the table. Harry was a wonderful cook, he made a variety of pancakes.
Blueberry, chocolate chip, plain, some with strawberries and cream. He'd brought out lemon and sugar too because that's what Y/n liked on her pancakes, and lots of fruit for Emma. He'd brought out two big jugs of juice for them and a coffee pot.
âSleep well, Em?â Asked Harry, with a mouthful of blueberry pancake chewing lazily. How did he even look sexy eating?
She nodded. âYeah,â
âMe too.â He replied before turning to Y/n, who was mid-sip on some juice, it was a mix of berries and tasted sweet. âY/n?â
She coughed, choking on her juice, and Harry smirked knowingly. Emma patted her back, âYou alright, mate?â
âYeah, just wrong hole. I slept fine.â Y/n said.
âHate when that happens.â Harry teased, and she wanted to kick his shin but Emma definitely wouldâve noticed.
They all finished their pancakes and after the big breakfast, Emma had an aspirin and told them both she was going back to bed for a nap.
âI might head off then,â Y/n said, she wanted to go home and nap herself. Harry had kept her awake for a good portion of the night after all, and her body was very sore. âIâll get an Uber.â
âAlright, Babe,â She said hugging her. Y/n kissed her cheek and hugged her back.
âBye, Babe,â Y/n said with a soft smile.
âThanks for taking care of me. Iâll see you tomorrow?â
Y/n nodded. âOf course, we have to do our monthly movie marathon rain, hail, or shine!â
Emma smiled. âPerfect, get home safe.â
They parted, and Emma went back to her room to sleep. Y/nâs Uber arrived moments later and Harry watched Y/n leave waving with a big devilish grin.
She waved back hopping in the Uber tiredly, as the car pulled away and Harry shut the door, her phone buzzed with a text.
Harry Stylesđ
Can I come over tonight?
Y/n felt a big grin overtake her face.Â
what on earth for mr. styles?
Harry Stylesđ
Didnât get to give a you proper goodbye, did I?
Y/n blushed with a small laugh as she typed back.Â
see u at eight
Harry Stylesđ
See you then Baby X
Y/n bit her lip. What had she gotten herself into?
oh and bring snacksÂ
and that new film u were raving about to niall
Harry Stylesđ
Ok, done. See you tonight. XX
Y/n felt her cheeks heat up similar to last in the kitchen. This was not the Harry she knew, but she didnât have it in her to complain. She saw flashes of last night of them together and squirmed in her seat.
đđ
She replied.
When she put her phone down in her lap and stared out at the window she sighed to herself, knowing she was completely done for. Harry had ruined her, she'd never be able to stop thinking about him and last night. However, she had very few complaints about it. Her phone buzzed yet again. She checked it.
Harry Stylesđ hearted your message.
She smiled even more and shut her eyes, head resting against the leather seat, as she wondered if he was smiling this big too.
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Hi! I write this fic on Wattpad, but figured I would put it up on tumblr, too!
WARNINGS: THIS IS A BDSM FIC
WATTPAD ALTERNATIVE | TRAILER | ALPHABET PROMPT | tdiag things
DESC:
"My name is Eros," the masked male cocks his head a smidge at her, and, if only slightly through the shadow cast between the parted zipper, Isla catches sight of a smile tugging at his lips on the latter fragment of his statement, "But you already know that. I'd hope, anyways. We've had a chat. Or two."
His lips - his mouth. Isla ogles the latex through the peepholes of her own and wonders what shape the rest of his features take, what carves and forges his face, how his nose slopes, the assemblage of it all.
"Although we are acquainted," Eros smooths his fingertips over the arm of the chair, a lavish facade of plastic masquerading, "You will address me as Master."
Isla swallows. Despite her prior train of thought looping so intently on the tracks to decipher what she believes he'd look like beneath his mask, it's entirely derailed by the serious note in his previously light cadence. She wonders how a mere introduction manages to send such a thrilling rush rolling down her spine. Eros leans forward, forearms braced to his splayed thighs, almost as if to bend to her level.
"Or Sir. Master, Sir, it's all the same to me. Your preference."
CHAPTER 1
The one with Masks & First Meetings, Mr. Executioner (or Mr. Friendly??), and a scene feat. a blindfold and an unexpected participant
CHAPTER 2
The one with negotiations in a room that draws memoirs of therapy appointments (fancy chairs â comfy chairs), Harry: âCrying = enjoying... Got it,â testing the limits, face-fucking, and a glint of teeth
CHAPTER 3
The one with shoplifting grapes, drafting a contract feat. a debate on honorifics, creampies â according to Harry, generally too sweet, floggers, fear-factor-except-it's-kinky, and four too many orgasms
CHAPTER 4
The one with a manacle and a mean man who lends a helpful hand in a house hunt, the same mean man being nice .63737382 seconds later, sloppy cunnilingus, and a Series of Mysterious Knots
CHAPTER 5
The one with a Series of Mysterious Knots Part 2, sleeves caught in car doors and impromptu rope swing climbing, a pair of dress shoes, and sixteen minutes too many
CHAPTER 6
The one with the birth of the infamous yada yada, Isla âwhat happens at three?â Cleery, the glove (singular!) comes off, a very jittery ottoman, a cane, and some (unwholesome) late night talking
CHAPTER 7
The one with another house tour, a âŠvivid imagination, the rise of the green-eyed monster, Harry âyour actions have consequencesâ Styles, the importance of taking breaks, and emotions brewing and bubbling to the surface
CHAPTER 8
The one where (more) emotions brew, a ham and cheese croissant, an oat milk latte, and a book about pain-slut-ism, the discovery of villain origins, even more emotional brewing, and an exploration of boundaries
CHAPTER 9
The one with a sprinkle of consensual violence, the cane, feelings-ish (that Harry buries in pussy), and the D word
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Hi friends! @1800titz here. This is my contribution to the collaboration, and Iâd like to start off by saying that I am so, so, so beyond excited to work with the immensely talented @cherryjuiceblues!! Thank you for working with me Soph :â)
We have loads of goodies planned, and weâd like to kick things off with Mr. Hitchhikerry. (Sidenote: heâs a little late to the party, this WAS supposed to be a spooky piece for Halloween but SHDJDJCJDJD donât worry about it. Life got in the way a bit, but heâs finally HERE so WOOOO). A little idea based on this reddit post. This one has great big warnings. DARK HARRY. VERY DARK HARRY. With a piece like this, I want to really emphasize: this is purely for entertainment purposes, and there is 0 correlation intended to the real Harry Styles <3 just a spooky faceclaim.
With that disclaimer out of the way, hereâs some content warnings: dom/sub themes, choking, (light) spanking, degradation (and praise!) ((some good olâ LETâS PLAY SIMON SAYS)). THE WOOF WOOF is for humiliation purposes only <3 GREAT BIG WARNING FOR A DISTURBING CONFESSION OF INTENT TO HARM.
Also, I writhe in my seat as I write, wanting to put in lengthy context of prediscussion and safewords and aftercare and everything important I always talk about, BUT. Youâll see. Heâs an âŠinteresting character and I tried to keep hitchhikerry true to himself.
PLEASE DONâT HOOK UP WITH STRANGE MEN YOU PICK UP ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD AT NIGHT. PLEASE DONâT PICK UP STRANGE MEN ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD AT NIGHT. Enjoy Ù©(ââżâ)Û¶ (WC is 11K)
She doesnât do hitchhikers.Â
Not figuratively, not literally.Â
Y/N was raised outside of the scope of the seventies, post-Bundy and his hitchhiking antics, and since the evolution of serial-killer lore, sheâs never been fond of a stranger hopping into her passenger seat and then cutting her up into itsy-bitsy parts to hang around his back garden like string-lights, or something. An ear there, a palm with crooked fingers there. Morbid stuff.Â
Y/N doesnât do hitchhikers, but she doesnât think about that, hurtling down some back-country road, a poorly lit vale through a field of tall, boundless grass. Itâs not the first thought budding behind her skull when she sees his silhouette through the shone of her pearly brights â a blip by the line of tall shrubbery â even a good distance away. And from her distance, heâs just a little blip in a cream, hoodless sweatshirt, feet planted into a bed of patchy grass. Her first sane thought, as she squints through her windshield, has to do with why someone would be out on this road, at this time of night, with no feasible form of transportation, and how. As her Honda nears and passes some fork off, a dirt bend of clearing into the winding field of nature, the manâs hitchhiking, signature thumb morphs into a wave of his arms, and his foot steps out, toying at the edge of the road. It doesnât quite breach the threshold, but her speedometer decreases enough for her to catch baggy denim, distressed at the knees, and a slow wave of his arms, raised. He doesnât launch at her car, forlorn, as she passes â thank Christ. But even then, his frame swishes by, out of sight, coated by darkness. She casts her gaze to the rear-view, and the image of him scrubbing over his face with an exasperated palm shrinks in size the further she gets.Â
The young woman gets about a hundred feet before she nudges the break with her foot to a halt, sighing as the car settles with a subtle lurch. She makes another glance to the rear-view. Now, she canât see him, not in the shroud of night, but she squeezes her eyes shut for a second, and then twists the wheel until the car curves. A tire slips off onto gravel and grass with the U-turn, but she steers herself back onto the road and drives into the same direction sheâs just come from.Â
He looks surprised to see her reverse, form pivoted toward the same headlights thatâd just passed him with a crease over his brow bone. Y/N slows and breaks as she nears, absent-mindedly pressing a fingertip over the lock button on her door. TV Girl is still playing quietly from her car speakers when she cracks the window, stopped beside him across the road, and beckons with her chin raised just enough for her cadence to seep through the opening, âDo you need help?âÂ
âYes, yeah, Iââ the man makes a quick glance towards the side of the road where vehicles would be incoming, a sharp turn of his chin, and then a step towards her parted window as Y/N twists over the volume toggle. âI justâ my car broke down,â he raises an arm and points towards the dirt clearing that slips into the field, âI was coming this way, and my phoneâs diedââÂ
He pauses, shaking his head down at his converse, his voice a baritone croon with charming, foreign dialect, âI know this is so odd, and you probably donât want a stranger in your car. But fâyou could just order an uber or something, I could give you the cash for it?â the girl watches his ring-clad palm disappear into the front pocket of his denim hastily, only to retrieve a wallet, ââIf thatâs alright?âÂ
Y/N doesnât do hitchhikers.Â
And still, her pupils rove over the charming stranger, trailing from his soft dark curls, swiping over his lashes as his head ducks, down the slope of his nose, to the cushiony pink of his lips. Irises graze down his neck and catch a white tee under the collar of his cream pull-over, and they brush down his denim, to his battered, white converse. The young woman watches his hand stretch out, cautiously, a wad of neatly folded cash cupped by pads of fingers with short, yellow-lacquered nails.Â
âNo, donâtâ âŠI can give you a ride,â Y/N tells him, her tone soft as her gaze wanders over his frame.Â
A downward shift plucks at the corner of his plush mouth and his jaw flexes, a hesitant look shaping over his features, âItâsâ I couldnâtâ sâlike a thirty minute drive, and I donât wanna take you out of the wayâŠâ Â
His large hand is still stretched out toward her, and she admires the cross inked over the back of his hand, on the fleshy area between his thumb and forefinger. Her brows pinch together, and the window whirs as the glass partition sinks. The girl raises her hand and points back with her thumb.Â
âAre you going in that direction?âÂ
Wordlessly, the attractive stranger nods â a single dip of his chin.Â
âIâm going that way, too. I can give you a lift.âÂ
Another look of hesitancy flits over the curly-haired strangerâs face, a soft, dubious touch to his facial features. He purses his strawberry mouth.Â
âIf youâre sure.âÂ
Y/N doesnât do hitchhikers.Â
And still, she slips her hand over the unlock button, and the doors click to signal unshuttering as the man culls his wallet and stuffs the cash back in, sticking that back into his jeans. She watches him wind around her car, his gait trailing behind, and her eyes follow his side profile, bathed in the red of the brake lights, through the rear-view. The passenger door slips open. She rolls her window the rest of the way up.Â
âThank you,â the man tells her in his low baritone, raking fingers through his curls as he slides into the seat beside her and shuts the door.Â
He smells heady and fresh â expensive. But itâs not overpowering, by any means. A blend of tantalizing notes; cologne blotted in increments that mesh well with his natural musk. The pleasant scent is the first thing she notices when he climbs into her vehicle. The second is the sculpt of his side profile â lengthy lashes over the crest of his cheekbones, his nose, a plush, pink mouth, a stray curl splayed over his forehead. Heâs a little older than her, at least by a handful of years; thereâs this innate, aged quality to him, and she can witness it in the shape of his features, in the soft dusting of stubble over his jawline. Y/N catches glimpses of his side profile discretely as the music track shifts, eyeing the bob of his Adam's apple as he cranes his neck back against the headrest. The screen over the center console reads 1:02 AM.Â
âLong night?âÂ
Itâs a shit attempt at small talk, but the young woman turns the wheel in her palms, hopeful that the man is interested in something more than an awkward silence, sparsely filled with the mellow keys of electronic-indie leaking from the speakers. She heard him expel a breath more than she sees it in her peripherals, and as the car embarks on another U-turn, he tells her, with laughter suffusing his cadence, âYeah. Yeah, sâbeen a long night.â
She does make out that he pivots a bit towards her, and his tone is earnest when he says, âBut itâd be a little longer without you, I think. Thank you, again. Feels like I canât say it enough.âÂ
Her mouth quirks softly. The young woman keeps a haphazard left hand on the wheel, vision bouncing from the poorly illuminated road ahead and the phone in the cupholder. The LED display lights alive as she swipes her thumb over the lockscreen and toggles onto the maps app, cueing him by nudging the electronic in his direction.Â
âUm. If you could just type in the directionsâ Iâm sort of shit in these parts, to be honest.âÂ
She casts a brief gaze toward him and sees a soft divot pinch into his cheek as the corners of his mouth crook up. His fingertips, warm and rough â calloused â brush over the back of her hand with the handoff, and then his thumbs are working over the screen before an address and a winding blue line of directions with an eta of thirty-four minutes teems the screen.Â
âHi, by the way,â the man says in his honey-smooth cadence, âMy nameâs Harry.âÂ
âHi,â Y/N grins, shooting a bashful glance into the attractive stranger â Harryâs â direction, before fixing her irises up ahead. âIâm Y/N.âÂ
âY/N,â the man parrots â God. She could listen to him drone on about the most monotonous topics in that voice. He doesnât. Instead, he uses that same timbre again to say, âSâa pretty name.â And she has to ignore the flurry of butterflies that swarm her innards at the entirely innocuous compliment and the heat that suffuses her cheeks. âAre you from around here?âÂ
âIsh. Sort of,â she slows at a curve through the field. Her brows pinch, âI mean, Iâve lived here for a bit now, but I moved from Oregon.âÂ
âOregon? Thatâs sick. Any particular motive?âÂ
Y/N lifts a subtle shoulder, because there isnât. She pauses before she answers. âDunno. Just needed a change of scenery.âÂ
Harry twists the ring over his pinky and nods down at the motion, lips pursed with intrigue, âAdventurous.â
The young womanâs mouth crooks, because heâs, evidently, from the opposite hemisphere. Â
âThatâs admirable,â the man motions with his chin.Â
Her mouth is still smiley when she rounds another curve, in the opposite direction, and mirrors his dialogue, âWhat about you? Any motive?âÂ
âMy motive?â his inflection is cheeky and playful, âYou donât think Iâm a native?âÂ
The girl makes a wry sound of amusement; an obvious inclination of disagreement. The handsome man grins, all raspberry-tinted lips and friendly teeth. âJust âŠvisited, and never wanted to leave,â he declares with little expansion on the topic. Simple, short, sufficing.Â
Thereâs a little moment of lull between them when she straightens the car out and the track slips into the chorus.Â
Harry shifts in the passenger seat and asks, in that same deep timbre she could sink into and drown in, âWhere are you headed from?âÂ
Where is she headed from? Y/N blinks at the road ahead, digits flexing over the steering wheel. Truth be told, itâs a late hour to be out and about, especially in this deserted neck of the woods. Every cozy little farmhouse in these plains, distant beyond the fields of grass, has lights off. No other car passes.Â
âI was on a âŠdate,â the young woman tells him.Â
Harry nods and swivels in his seat to face her a bit. âGood date?âÂ
Y/N pauses, the fragments of the story rolling around behind her skull. And truth be told, âŠit wasnât a very good date. But it wasnât a date to begin with. In all honesty, sheâs not about to tell this attractive stranger that sheâd driven forty minutes for a routine hook-up with an old tinder match, only to be stood up outside his door.Â
He was a character whose path happened to cross with hers for purely carnal purposes, and their flings were like rolls through seasons, rendezvous blotted into her timeline where either had a smidge to make room. Sheâs not going to talk about that. Itâs piteous, basically. The young woman doesnât risk side-eyeing him. This man seems like heâs well off in that department, and she doesnât want to discuss her shit intimate life and the way that Cody decided, last minute, that he was more interested in going out for miller lites with his buddies than entertaining the idea of sleeping with her.Â
He didnât even have that impressive of dick game anyways â thatâs the brutal candor. It wasnât that he had this particular lack of satisfaction guarantee, but the sex was okay. It didnât tick all the boxes or leave her fulfilled, not in the real sense, but it was sex, and it was decent. Maybe the most brutal part is the way sheâd driven all the way to see him, even knowing that the sex wasnât going to be top notch.Â
Apparently, her silence stretches too long, and the pause gives away the answer she mulls tactics over hiding.Â
âBad date,â the girl hears from beside her â itâs in this thoughtful sort of way, like Harryâs slotting puzzle pieces together in the lull.  Â
Y/N shifts her fingers over the wheel, the sound of skin sliding over leather meshing with the starting notes of a Cage the Elephant track. Her thumb toggles over a button on the wheel. She skips it.Â
âNo,â the girl responds, eventually, but she doesnât even sound fully convincing to her own ears. Thereâs this high note to her cadence, and she hears it in her own waver of honesty. She wants to cringe up, a little, at the sound. âNot âŠbad. Just. Well, you know. What about you?âÂ
For the first time since sheâd gotten back onto the road, Y/N casts her gaze to him. A glimpse, a twist of her chin, enough to take in his side-profile for a smidge of a second, more in a way to incite switching the topic and pivoting the point of conversation than the inconspicuous stare sheâd made appreciating his features. The corner of his plush mouth curves up, and he makes a little sound; a puff of air through his nostrils like heâs bridling mirth.Â
âWas my date bad?â Harry says, in this playful sort of way. Like heâs teasing her.Â
âNoâ yourâ whatever youââÂ
Y/N huffs. She rolls her shoulders back against the seat, a heat teeming over her cheeks. Why was she so nervous? Why did he make her so nervous? Harry makes another sound of amusement, the cushion of his lips unsealing to display straight white teeth.Â
âI was at a friendâs,â Harry expands, opting to stop drawing out the teasing, enough for Y/Nâs shoulders (thatâd grown rigid) to relax a little against the seat. âWas actually having a good night, believe it or not. And then, you know.âÂ
Unfortunately, she does know. Heâs sitting in her car, after all.Â
âDo you know what went wrong with it?â she ponders.Â
âWell,â Harry the pads of his fingers over the door, and it takes every fiber in her not to sneak a glance at the motion, not to admire the yellow polish, washed with darkness, dim in the car, âthe check engine light was on for a bit, to be honest. Butâ no,â the man pauses with a little simper, shooting her a glance, âCars arenât my specialty.âÂ
They talk about loads of things â she learns all about his friends and the sort of outing theyâd had (game night itâd been, Uno, and heâd beckoned her opinion on a debate thatâd arisen â whether a draw four could be stacked onto a draw two). That had spawned another conversation on card games â
(âIs it like Go Fish, then?âÂ
âNo,â she snorts, ânot at all.âÂ
âNot at all?âÂ
âThereâs a board and itâsâ more complicated.âÂ
âThereâs a board,â Harry parrots, shifting with his elbow brace on the center console like an armrest, âAnd itâs just, like. Cards, like, in a deck of cards?âÂ
âYouâve never played cribbage?â Y/N repeats in disbelief.)
She learns about his job, and his cat, and his collection of vintage vinyls. Heâs amiable, and he answers every question she directs his way with this smooth sort of charm. Heâs easy to talk to, and the span of the drive cuts shorter and shorter through intriguing conversation. But she leads the way for the majority of the inquiries.Â
Itâs not until theyâre at the halfway mark before he asks his own, rather than redirecting one of hers.Â
âCan I ask you something?â Harry drums his fingertips over the plush of his mouth, and Y/N struggles to fix her eyes back onto the road once sheâs spared him a glance.Â
It takes her a second to hum out an agreement, too.Â
âIt was a bad date, wasnât it?âÂ
The girl expels a breath and drums her fingers over the wheel, casting her gaze onto the screen of directions.Â
âIt wasnât even a date,â she confesses, âhe was likeââ she blinks, lashes fluttering as exasperation at the reminder leaks through, âA tinder hook up, and we didnât even end up hooking up.âÂ
Before he can interject, Y/N tacks on, begrudged, âHe wanted to hit the bars with his posse of Mag-con wannabes, instead.â
And then thereâs this sort of pause that has Y/N thinking that maybe sheâs overshared. The man with the sun-polished nails isnât an old friend sheâs having a gab with, catching up on the phone â heâs a stray man sheâs plucked up off some deserted road, and if he judged her for her choices, itâd kind of be justified. Namely, the one where sheâd driven out in the middle of the night for impromptu cock.Â
And anyways, this all feels a bit surreal â the beginnings of a therapy session with a stranger whoâd hopped into her sedan for a lift, filling the void of a psychologist in a great, big leather armchair. Â
Except Harry sounds earnestly disbelieving when he says, âYouâre kidding.âÂ
She purses her mouth and readjusts her fingers over the steering wheel. âHe sort of âŠcanceled when I was already at his door? Forgot to text me that the plans changed. Thatâs what he said.âÂ
âWhat a dickhead.âÂ
âMm,â Y/N hums.Â
âHeâs a moron for passing up the opportunity,â Harry tells her. Itâs not in an awkward way, or anything creepy, either. Heâs got this air to him, she finds â an ability to make a comment like with effortless delivery of charm. Heâs not even looking at her when he says it, only risking her a brief glance that she catches in her peripherals. She still side-eyes him from her seat in surprise, the edges of her mouth curling up bashfully.Â
âMâserious,â Harry says, dimples pinching into place beside the upturned-curl of his plush mouth.Â
And the thing is, Harry is so friendly. Heâs kind, and interesting, and despite the way Y/N had assumed allowing for his presence in her car would be the worldâs greatest chore, sheâs pleased to be in his company.Â
Thatâs why she lifts a wry shoulder and tells him, âThe sex was bad anyways.âÂ
The manâs face pivots to face her, then. âYeah?â he coaxes for expansion in his molasses-slow croon of a timbre.Â
âIt was just a little boring.â
âBoring?âÂ
âNotâ maybe not boring. Just, you know. There was nothingâŠâ Y/N drums digits over the steering wheel, âI donât know.â
The man beside her clears his throat.Â
âWas he a missionary in the dark type of bloke, then?âÂ
âYes,â she responds, almost instantly. Because missionary in the dark is, perhaps, the best way to describe Codyâs sexual nature. Down to the T, practically. She canât fathom how many times sheâd lay there, hoping heâd switch up into something different, something where his hands werenât resting shallowly on the bed sheets beside her shoulders, something where his face wasnât tucked into the crook of her neck, his mouth biting back everything but soft hisses of air as his hips rocked at an mediocrely slow pace.Â
Harryâs mouth quirks.Â
âBut not even that, itâs like. He wasnât bad at foreplay, or anything. It wasnât the best. But, you know. It was all sort of⊠plain.âÂ
The young woman pauses before she continues with an apathetic, one-shouldered shrug, âAnd thereâs nothing wrong with plain. It gets the job done, and, you know. Thatâs what some people like.âÂ
Thereâs a shift in energy, from there. Itâs subtle, but Y/N can feel it, and she wonders whether the morph is a one-sided experience. It happens with the honesty of the context, with the way she swears jade winds over her figure from beside, with the rasp of his voice beckoning something playful.Â
âBut thatâs not what you like.âÂ
Y/N takes a second to answer. âNo.âÂ
âWhat do you like?âÂ
Maybe that phrase is where it hits her. Where she recognizes that the subtle shift in energy is not one-sided. Not by any means.
Y/N risks a haphazard glance into his direction.Â
âNot âŠthat,â the girl laughs. Itâs a nervous, giggly kind of sound, but itâs not because of him. Â
Itâs different now, she thinks. Heâd been so timid at first â all bashful gazes through lashes glimmering under the beam of headlights, hesitancy shaping his features. Friendly dialogue â alluring, but curt in anything beyond friendly. This is different. This is blunt and forward. This is his eyes raking over her, this is his tongue swiping out over the plush of his pink mouth, this is his dimples peeking as the corners edge up.
âWhat do you like?â Harry asks again, a note of flirty, lighthearted amusement to his smooth cadence. Â
Y/N sighs, the corners of her mouth tipping up. âI donât know. Oh my God. Why are you interrogating me?â
Harry laughs. His brows rise, and he tips his chin down so the green sparkles at her. âYou donât know what you like?âÂ
âI donât know,â she huffs, good natured. And then she gives. âSomething⊠rough. Something exciting. I donât know, pull my hair, make it hurt a little. Donât⊠lay there in the dark andâŠâ her speech morphs into giggles, âGroan into my ear about how tight I am while Iâm laying there like a dead fish.â
Y/N doesnât know how she ends up pulled over in some deserted parking lot. She doesnât know how her headlights end up off, how the strangerâs hands sew into her hair, how his lips mesh softly with hers, hungrily. Well. She does know, but she doesnât care about the details in between. Because heâs hot, and he tastes of mint, and the tips of his fingers press into her scalp and tug a little when they brush through, when he slips a palm over the nape of her neck through the work of his cushiony mouth. Itâs thrilling, and itâs sexy, and itâs dangerous, she thinks, but that thought becomes clouded and pushed back to the dells of her mind.Â
âSuch a pretty little thing,â Harry murmurs when they disconnect, fingers splaying over her cheeks. Her heart hammers in her chest, and his irises trail after the motion of his thumb, bumpily dragging over the side of her lips, all the way to her cupid's bow. That same pad of his thumb pauses and tugs, drawing her bottom lip down to show the slightly parted seal of her teeth.Â
And then heâs taking his thumb away and nudging the tips of his index and middle finger, coaxing, âOpen your mouth, open your mouth.âÂ
The pads of his digits meet the tip of her tongue and prod in, brushing over her taste buds, until heâs tapping onto the center of the muscle and crooning, âStick it out. Tongue out for me.âÂ
A little hum escapes her, plucking at her vocal chords when she complies, only for him to trace further with his fingertips and nudge until he strokes the back. He holds them there and makes a little motion with his chin and a soft tut when her irises stay pinned on him, glazing with a sheen of watery protest at the depth of the intrusion.Â
âAhâ donât you gag,â he tells her softly, every syllable of every word coated with these notes of dominance that almost seem âŠinnate â like the headspace is a pair of shoes for him to slip into with ease.Â
Itâs filthy, itâs so filthy â this strangerâs fingers in her mouth, this man sheâs never seen a day in her life, a complete, nameless stranger, not even an hour prior, prodding into the warm wetness behind her lips. And her, following his aimless direction, just to please him. She doesnât gag through the way his fingers crook, her tongue twitching and her throat bobbing, her sight growing blurry with the coating of sheen. Itâs worth it, immensely, when Harry hisses out a soft curse and groans softly, his brows pinched.Â
Itâs worth it when he takes his fingers away, and Y/Nâs jaw is coated with her drool, when her tongue is still out, when Harry says, in this soft, strained voice, like itâs praise, âChrist, youâre a filthy thing.âÂ
She finds that this impromptu rendezvous sort of gives her whiplash. Sheâs parked in some empty parking lot with her lights off, and an alluring strangerâs just untucked his fingers from her mouth. Maybe someone would deem this a new low â having a shag with some hitchhiker sheâs scooped off the side of a back-country road. But heâs eyeing her like sheâs prey, and he rolls from one action like pages flitting and flipping in a book, and every detail keeps her on her toes. She canât keep up. Y/N pants wetly, like sheâs not sure whether to slip her tongue back into her strawberry mouth, because sheâs not.Â
Not until he swipes another thumb over the tip of the lax, twitching muscle and beckons, like heâs a little amused, âArenât you?âÂ
Slowly, her tongue retreats, and thatâs when his hand slips and cups over her throat, and thatâsâ
Her pulse thunders like itâs straining to beat out from below her skin, and Harry adjusts his grip, that same, wet thumb drawing short, slow lines over the point like he wants to test the race of her heart, like he wants to know that the pattern has skyrocketed since his palm has made homage over her windpipe. The man hums, pupils trailing and lingering slowly.Â
âTell meââ Y/N shifts in her seat, spine straightening out against the cushion, and something wracks down every individual knob when his blown gaze pins her the same way his palm pins over her neck, âTell me youâre my filthy plaything.âÂ
The press of his hand isnât harsh by any extent, not until she parts her lips to answer â thatâs when he nudges a little firmer. A little harder. He cocks his head at her in this condescending way â like her stifled sound of surprise entertains him, like the subtle, almost unnoticeable jolt of her eyelids, widening, pleases him. Judging by the slight quirk at the edges of Harryâs plush mouth, it does.Â
Her tummy coils with unanticipated desire. This feels almost scary. This feels like traipsing over a rope, like teetering over dangerous territory, and the sudden spike of adrenaline only has her thighs clenching together harder. Because this is sweet Harry, the friendly hitchhiker, in his cream sweater with his nice smile, and his charming dimples, and his loose, clean curls, with his warm palm cupped over her throat and the pad of his thumb digging into her pulse. He looks fucking hungry.Â
âIâmââ her statementâs muzzled by the press of his hand, an increase in only a slight increment. Itâs enough to wrest a garbled sound from the back of her throat. He tips his head.Â
âWhatâs that?âÂ
âIâm yourâŠâ she pauses when he presses harder, again, and this timeâs enough to have her feeling lightheaded, her bleary eyes wandering over his face and every muscle of her face battling the light flutter of her lashes. She thinks a dimple peeks from his cheek. Harry lets up.
Y/N siphons breaths like her lungs have been deprived for ages, and not just partly for the timespan of a short fifteen seconds. Still, his palm is glued over the front of her neck â just there. His thumb strokes over her pulse gently.Â
âIâm your âŠfilthy plaything,â the young woman confesses in this pathetic little voice thatâd have her ashamed in every other setting. But in this one, it doesnât.Â
Arousal creeps through every fiber of being, instead, crawling through her arteries and settling into her veins like a twisted, dark goo. It thrums through her and sinks through to the trench of her tummy, frothing as chills teem down her back. Heâs got this glint in his eye, like a dance around a bonfire in the deep of the night â but itâs just a stray street light that casts its shone as a spotlight when he ducks forward a tad, just enough for it to. When he tips forward, his gaze growing half-lidded, lower and lower the closer he gets, it feels like he starts to siphon every breath from her own mouth as his cushiony lips ghost over her cupidâs bow. Even for the smidge of the second it takes for their mouths to mesh again, it feels like the movement is in ultra slow motion.Â
The mold of their mouths together, this time, feels a lot less like sheâs got her hands on the wheel â the first time had been almost testing, sweet â something soft thatâd shifted into something headier, something firmer. This feels like something he guides, something he takes the clear lead in, from the pace of his hungry lips to the exploratory nudge of his tongue against the seam of her own mouth. Her fingers flex over the center console aimlessly, palm straying, and fingertips catching on a part of his cotton sweatshirt. They twist into the fabric softly when Harryâs tongue strokes over her own. A hand settles onto her thigh. Itâs not her own.
âGet in the backseat,â he hums into her open mouth, squeezing over her flesh when she doesnât immediately comply. Heâs got this way of dulling her reflexes, crumbling the semblance of her mind to mush, and Y/N is convinced it has more to do with his touch than it has with the time of night, despite the way exhaustion wears at her tired muscles. âGet in the fuckinâ backseat.âÂ
When her arms strays and she reaches for the door handle, though, he squeezes at her thigh again, and hums out a displeased note of disagreement. âNot like that.âÂ
Bemused, Y/N shifts in her seat. A glint of something playful glows in the jade when Harry tells her, âYou can find another way, canât you, pet? Go on.âÂ
Y/N sits in confused silence for all of three seconds before the man sits back a tad and cocks his head, irises flashing towards the backseat with a playful, little grin quirking at his lips. Like heâs suggesting.Â
It takes her longer than three seconds to clamber into the back from the driverâs seat, through the slot over the center console, but it satisfies Harry, evidently, judging by the way he palms over the globes of her backside through her stretchy mini-skirt. Itâs not very graceful, and if she was less aroused sheâd probably find it in her somewhere to be a bit embarrassed, but. She doesnât. She wriggles over the cushion, instead, settling back.Â
Harry has smarter ideas. He toggles the gear on the side of the passenger seat and sets the whole top of it back, like a makeshift day-bed, and scoots into the back of the sedan through the opening. And thereâs not much leg room â not for the two of them, not with the whole back of the seat splayed â and thereâs not much room for their heads, either, but they manage to squeeze back, and heâs gripping onto her shoulders and twisting her on his own whim before the young woman has a chance to shift around, herself.Â
âGetââ the way Harry manhandles her with a grip on her hips, (once heâs got her slumped, at least somewhat) â with ease, like heâs flipping a page in a book rather than rearranging her whole position in the cramped space of a sedan backseat â that lights something fiery in the pit of her belly. âHands and knees, baby,â Harry tells her, grunting softly while her limbs scrabble over the pleather. He pulls her back into him, by the hips as sheâs physically molded into it, parroting, quieter, âhands and knees.âÂ
âItsy bitsy skirt⊠so easy to justââ Harry hums, this sort of mischief to his cadence â and it becomes blatantly obvious, the reason for it, when his digits creep under, from behind, and his colossal palms hitch it up, âOops.âÂ
Sheâs wearing tights under it. Theyâre not the fleece-lined kind, despite the bite of chill in the air outside, but they are there, and Harry spans the pads of his fingers over the barrier like he doesnât have plans to discard them the practical way.Â
He doesnât. The man stripes a fingertip down her core, from behind, over the fabric and the faint hue of cheeky purple that peeks through, and makes this devious sound of mirth when her whole body twitches. And then he draws the same fingertip back up, in the same line, and nudges a bit.Â
âWhat am I gonna do with you?â Harry coos. The third, slow drag has her arching her hips back. âHm? What am I gonna do?â He takes almost a thoughtful second, tongue peeking out to swipe out over the cushion of his pink bottom lip, before Harry splays his palms over her bum, âPretty girl⊠pretty arseâŠâ
And itâs so calm â heâs so calm, so casual, so nonchalant â Y/N doesnât even sense it coming until he sighs, and then heâs digging the tips of his digits into the nylon, stretching it from her core, and just tearing. Casually. Nonchalantly. The sound of fabric ripping apart coaxes her jaw to slip open, and her pupils stick to the inside of the door, unblinking, as he just tears, and tears, and tears.Â
And sheâs not even upset, is the thing. Sheâs not irritated that this strangerâs just torn the crotch of her tights apart â she canât be, not when he hums devilishly and strokes over her core, a layer closer. Maybe thatâs pitiful. Maybe thatâs sad, that sheâs so fucking horny that she doesnât care that her tights have been split open with no prior discourse on the topic, but this direction of impulse â the way sheâs not even able to try and guess his next move, it kindles something hot and hungry.Â
And if she ever has Cody to thank for anything, Y/N thinks maybe itâd be that heâd inspired her to shave and slip on a pair of decently attractive underthings.Â
âThese are pretty, too,â Harry tells her, thumbing at the crotch of the thong, just over one side. The young woman gives this dreamy little sigh and arches back up into him further. âWhat dâyou want, sweetheart? Want me to give some attention âŠhereââ
Her spine jolts when he nudges the pad of his index right up against her clit, lightly, over the purple fabric, âMaybe? Is that it? Eager girl.â
He draws a featherlight circle over it, and then another, and another until her thighs are trembling. The tip of his digit taps. She nudges back, and he takes it away altogether. An amused sound slips from his mouth. Â
âSay please,â Harry demands.Â
Y/N jumps as his fingertips trail to her inner thigh, crooking and tickling in the line they draw.Â
âPlease.âÂ
Again, he makes a disapproving tut, and Y/N rolls her cheek onto on a forearm, tucked over the seat.Â
His eyebrows climb up his forehead, and his fingertips drift up and down the back of her thigh, drawing closer and closer where she needs him most with every lap. Each word is covered with notes of firm dominance. âNot like that. Like you mean it â like youâre pleading.â
Y/N mulls over the words, her heart thundering.Â
âHow dâyou beg?âÂ
It takes a second for his words to sink in, but then when they do, she croons out, softer, more desperate, âPlease.âÂ
Thereâs a soft sound of a breath being expelled, the seat crinkling quietly as, she assumes, Harry sits back on his haunches, head ducked. Like itâs not good enough. Her tongue traces out over her lips and she beckons, âPlease, please,â each plea prompting a spiral of unfamiliar humiliation â glazed with arousal â to unfurl.Â
âPlease, please, pleaseââ each word emphasized with a rock back of her hips. And finally, he touches her.Â
His palm cradles a cheek, and he doesnât sound even slightly impressed. Instead, his voice comes out exasperated when he tells her, âThatâs not convincing. Youâre desperate. You want something â you need it, youâre pleading.â
âPleaseâ pleaseââ
âLouder,â he scoffs, âBeg. Beg.âÂ
âPlease,â she tries, desperation creasing her voice strained on the syllable, and Harry drags fingertips, airy, across her inner thigh, from bottom to top. âPlease, please, pleaseââ
And finally, something clicks. Something slots together, at some point, when she ditches the inhibitions and her cadence starts to border on a delirious sort of desperation. Finally, something works.Â
âThatâs better,â Harry says softly, swiping his thumb over her clit, âMuch better.âÂ
She doesnât pick up on that, though, and sheâs still begging, pleading, quietly. Quieter, quieter, quieter â the words growing more sparse the longer he spends time honing on her clit, the firmer his touch becomes.Â
âGood girl,â Harry coos, his fingertips latching up under the hem at the crotch of her panties, before he tugs, âGood girl. You ask nicely, and Iâll give it to you. Sâthat easy.â Â
He slips a thumb against her gushing entrance and drags it down, tracing careful shapes over the bud of nerves, before he tugs down on the hood and emphasizes on the new exposure by reigniting the touch with the thumb on his opposite hand. Two hand task â very dedicated.Â
âSâthis all for me?â the man teases, pinching her clit, lightly, between the pad of his thumb and the side of his index. He sounds a little self-satisfied when he declares, quietly, âIâm flattered.âÂ
Her lips part as a silent, breathy moan wrests from the back of her throat. It happens when the pad of his long middle digit prods at her entrance and nudges in. The thumb on his other hand sweeps, side to side, over where sheâd most sensitive, and he stuffs into her further. And they are lengthy â his fingers. Sheâd seen them drumming over the center console, and smush over the raspberry tint of his lips, felt them coat her tongue, and felt them press against her throat. They can reach further than her own, crooking against her spongy walls, curling when he adds a second before straightening out and scissoring for the stretch.Â
âChrist, youâre gushing,â Harry says, and as if on cue, the pornographic squelch of his fingers working crowds the cramped space, âJesusâ dâyou hear that?âÂ
Y/N buries her face in her arms to muzzle the little sounds of bliss that he pries from her mouth. Itâs not until heâs proper fucking into her with his digits, the pad of his thumb dragging tight, little circles over her clit, that those sounds escape her. And when they start, they pour in a flood. Because he works so expertly, so deftly â from the pace, to the angle, to the way he hones on her clit with his other hand, and the filthy dialogue he spews in his honey-smooth baritone. Itâs everything, everything, and it prompts the coil in her belly to circle and squeeze, tighter, tighter â a telltale prior to its inevitable snap. She clenches over his fingers helplessly.
But then he justâ stops.Â
The nudge of his digits skirts to a stand-still within her, and his thumb stops drawing circles, and Y/N just squeezes over him like a silent plea. He makes this sound â this mirthy, deviously pleased hum, like her displeasure at his pause amuses him. Itâs pure sadism.Â
Itâs not until she rocks her hips a bit, a shallow, desperate kind of back and forth, that the amusement seems to slip from his tone.Â
âDonâtââ Harry tuts sharply, taking his thumb off her clit altogether to grip at her hip harshly, âStay still. Naughty, little minx.â
And she does. She stays still when his voice gets hard like that. Thereâs a bit of quiet between his snap and the subtle freeze-up of her rocking. Soft breaths sew through the lull, but then he talks again, his tone a little nicer.Â
âWeâre gonna play a little game, yeah?âÂ
Thatâs âŠintriguing. Y/N shifts over the cushion. His grasp over her hip has softened considerably, but thereâs still this humiliating heat that swarms her face at the fact that the crotch of her panties is still tucked against her skin, that everythingâs out in the open, that Harryâs practically ogling in lieu of touching her.Â
âItâs a bit like Simon Says. Except, when you play Simon Says, you hesitate a little, right?â
The manâs thumb presses back to her clit, and she buries her face in her folded arms.Â
âAnd I donât want you to hesitate. Iâll tell you something to do, andââÂ
His fingers sink into her, and her shoulders grow tense from the bliss. Y/N muzzles her groan.Â
âYouâll do it. Sounds easy enough?âÂ
It does. Itâs easy enough instructions, and when Harry pats at the same hip heâd been clutching over and beckons, âHands back here,â Y/N obliges easily enough.Â
Her cheek presses to the cushion, cool against the warmth teeming beneath her skin, and she lets him manhandle and move her splayed fingers to his liking, arms stretched behind.Â
âThatâs good,â Harry croons in his low timbre, the warm, lewd praise of it drawing chills up the nape of her neck, âNow spread a bit for me.âÂ
Y/N does that, too. Her finger pads nudge and press into her flesh, coated with the tights, and her digits crook as the tips dig in to splay â to follow his direction, to please him. And itâs shameful, a pinch in her shoulders as her arms reach back, fingers twitchy, imprinting into her own backside with little divots as she opens herself up for him to do nothing. But his satisfied little hum sends an unfamiliar sense of accomplishment spiraling through her veins. The way his warm palm rests on and pets over the back of her thigh along with it feeds something new and starving.Â
âGood girl. There you go. See? Sâeasy.âÂ
Y/N makes a little sound into the seat, and her fingers flex as Harry pumps his own digits, a steady rhythm of in and out, paired with a hum from him that sounds absolutely pornographic.Â
âSuch a good girl,â the man tells her, fingers crooking, but the praise isnât enough to muffle the bemusement that wracks her when he says in this devious hush, âLetâs try another. Bark.âÂ
Bark.Â
It takes a second for the command to register past the immediate threshold of the pleasure curling in her belly as he strokes at her spongy walls. And when it does click together, his word settling past the membrane of bliss, her initial thought is that sheâs definitely misheard him. Because thatâs âŠsort of a ludicrous request. The young woman sounds strewn between groggy and muzzled when she cranes her neck a bit over the cushion and beckons with a confused hum.Â
âBark,â Harry repeats, âlike a dog.â Simple and nonchalant.Â
Bark like a dog. Sheâs midway through creased brows, a strained raise of her head, and a baffled what, before the man stills his fingers and takes a grip over her wrist, sliding her hand away.Â
And then he smacks her, hard, with his palm on one side, in the same place where her digits had dug in to spread herself open.Â
Itâs loud, and it stings, and it sends a shockwave through her nervous system, strong enough to have everything buzzing on alert as her forehead pastes to the seat and the parted gap of her mouth struggles to mute a gasp. Maybe the most surprising part is that the hurt feels good, that the sting morphs into something else as it fizzles and ebs, that the hammer of her heart spikes this famished, unfamiliar arousal coursing through her when he doesnât even bother stroking over the bruised skin. Itâs definitely hard enough to leave a ruddy mark under the tights, and Y/N blinks down at the faux leather, wordless and a little gobsmacked.Â
And then Harry sighs in this way thatâs so âŠdisappointed. And the calmness of his inflection, grouped with the irony of the harsh hit⊠that has a chill climbing up her spine.Â
âThatâs not how you play the game, pet.â
He says it in this eerily nonchalant note of disdain, like heâs not just casually tattooed the shape of his hand onto her backside with a blow. Like he expected better. Like itâs a little mishap theyâll gloss over. She doesnât even realize sheâs still got a vice clamped over his fingers until he shifts the digits in her, coaxing her core to flutter around him. Harry sighs again.Â
âDid you forget the rules, baby?â he asks, cadence soft and basked in condescension. The man strokes over the heated skin, the same spot where Y/N is sure a subtle welt has peaked to the surface below the thin veil of the sheer tights, âI tell you to do something and you do it, right?âÂ
Her knees are starting to ache a little, a soreness settling into the joints, but she doesnât even mind it when his fingers pump again, slowly.Â
âThatâs how the game goes. Right? I need an answer.âÂ
She makes a soft sound. A little sound thatâs not protest. A little sound thatâs not outright agreement. Itâs a whimper into a void, but everything about him and his touch lights something alive in her. And she wants more. Sheâs dizzy off of it when she manages out a breathless, âYes.â Itâs a short word that comes out in a breath, like sheâd been holding the air in her lungs.Â
Maybe thatâs why sheâs dizzy.Â
âAre we on the same page? Letâs try again, then. Bark.âÂ
Y/N shifts over the seat. The hand heâd moved has splayed helplessly to her side, and the fingers curl and uncurl as the weight of the suggestion hits her. Because thatâsâ itâs humiliating. Itâs demeaning, and itâs strange, and the fact that he demands it has the tips of a fire licking up at her insides. The young woman makes an uncharacteristically pathetic noise.Â
Harry sighs.Â
The split second of hesitation is enough, apparently, for another slap, just as hard, in the same spot. It has her rocking forward and clenching over his digits again. Harryâs quick to correct her posture with a hand on her hip, guiding her back in a way that lacks gentleness.Â
âI said, bark.âÂ
This time his voice is harder. Meaner. Y/N gives.Â
She gives because the tips of his fingers prod at this heavenly spot inside her, because her skin smarts in a way that has her practically drooling, because sheâs dizzy, and hungry, and desperate. Her thighs are quivering when she gets out a half-hearted woof, her lips shaping over the word like the task is a chore to get out.Â
âBetterââ another slap, aimed lower onto the back of her thigh, has her hips jutting and the straight line of her spine twisting up, ââbut not what Iâm looking for. Try again.âÂ
She doesnât even aim to please, is the thing, when her yelp overlaps with another smack. But it morphs into something surprised and deliciously pained, and evidently, itâs enough, judging by the way his touch smooths over the stinging skin.
âOh, baby,â Harry tells her, his fingers stroking like heâs smudging the pink-tinge of bruising, âThatâs pathetic.âÂ
And it dawns on her then, that thereâs no winning with this game. When he tuts and tells her, absolutely patronizingly, âSo desperate for it, sheâs barking like a stray.âÂ
It dawns on her that she doesnât want to win. She doesnât care, because his filthy dialogue, as demeaning as it is, just draws her wetter and closer. As if to highlight on it, Harry crooks his fingers and tacks on, âYouâre leaking all over the seats, pet.âÂ
And she is, sheâs sure. Itâs a dirty game he plays, and she loves every part of it and more. It has her writhing when he draws circles over her clit, it has her aching for more when he guides her hand back to her backside with a squeeze and a wordless coax to keep spreading.Â
âGonna let me fuck you?â Harry pulls the digits out, dirtying whatâs left of her tights and smearing sticky wetness over the back of her thigh, âHm? Gonna let meââ his belt clinks as he unbuckles it, and then comes the soft sound of a zipper, its teeth unlatching, ââfill you up?âÂ
âGlovebox,â Y/N mumbles, hips shifting back when he pets at her thigh.Â
His pupils flit, sticking to the back of her head, before they jump back down to his handiwork. Harryâs tone sounds absent-minded and mirthy when he asks, âWhatâs that?âÂ
âThereâs condoms in the glovebox,â she expands, a little louder than her prior murmur, bracing on her forearms to cast her gaze back at him over her shoulder.Â
And he looks rugged in this boyish, youthful way, then, is the thing. The corner of his mouth jolts, lopsided, and a stray tendril has flopped over his forehead. His hands are on the undone buckle of his belt, and his flyâs down, and he sounds absolutely amused when he says, âAre there?âÂ
There are.Â
âYouâve prepared for this, then, have you?â Harry sets a palm onto her hip, squeezing as a dimple pinches into his cheek, âCondoms in your glovebox âŠlike a proper dirty whore?âÂ
Coyly, she blinks, cheek nuzzled to the seat, and she watches him stretch his arm out for the glovebox as he knees away.Â
âIâm always prepared,â Y/N settles on, softly.
The glovebox slips open. Thereâs rummaging â his torso turns to face it entirely, and then he gleans a shining, golden little packet, tucked between the pads of his digits. The young woman wriggles her hips. Thereâs this glint of fiery âŠsomething. Something playful, something lewd, something hungry in the jade, when he clambers back over, steadying himself with a palm on her tailbone. It coaxes her spine into a pretty, sharper arch.
âYou do this a lot, do you?â Harry teases, âPick up strange men, let them fuck you?âÂ
She hums in agreement as the man takes the little gold square, snug between his teeth, fingers working quickly, pushing buttons through slots and tugging his cock out.Â
âMaybe I do.âÂ
He tears at the wrapper with his teeth. She knows, because his next words come out a little muffled.Â
âIs that right?âÂ
Itâs not. Itâs so out of the norm, so far from the usual, but Y/N would be a masochist to string out the arousal thatâd built between her thighs in lieu of letting Harry span his palms over the globes of her ass in the backseat. Harry, with his cheeky smile and his sunshine, short-trimmed nails. Harry, with his denim-tethered bulge dragging over the back of her thigh and his filthy tongue shaping crude dialogue. Â
She doesnât see him as he tuts from behind, but she can picture it; his palm cupped over the base of his shaft as he rolls the condom over and then presses the tip against her teasingly.Â
âWanted to be fucked like a dirty whore, is that it?â
Her âyesâ stretches and ebs and splinters into a whispery hiss when Harry nudges forward and stretches her out. And then heâs beckoning for her hands, one hand splayed over her hip and the opposite coaxing at her shoulder, tugging and jolting in gentle nudges, mouth shaping over firm, âHands, hands, give me your hands â behind your backâ thatâsâ just like that.âÂ
Barred from scratching at the seats with his firm, warm grip binding the joints hostage, Y/N presses her cheek to the cushion. She slumps into his willpower, gives into him, the smush of her face sweaty on the cushion, jolting with every rock forward. The young woman clenches over him helplessly. Soft sounds slip past her lips, pried out by the nudges of his hips, over and over, again and again. Her fingers stiffen and flex, and the arch in her spine shifts when the head of his cock bumps that delicious ridge so deep in her â and itâs like Harry senses it, the way her entire body grows taut like a string. He goes at that too, prodding, again and again, until a whine plucks at her vocal chords. Every shallow jolt of his hips sends waves of paralyzing bliss licking over her insides. Every nudge forward has her slumping more. And when he talks, Y/N barely registers it over the rush of blood in her own head.Â
Thereâs been little things that fall from his mouth â soft curses and hisses as he slides in, hums and groans when he bottoms out, readjusting his grasp over her wrists. Words, though â now heâs saying words. Theyâre still in that gentle baritone, this sort of luring croon.Â
âCome on, baby. Come on â got a strangerâs cock in your pretty, little pussyââ Harryâs voice catches on a strained note as he pulls outâ
âŠA sigh as he rocks back in, ââand âŠyouâre not gonna struggle?âÂ
A warmth stems from his grasp, behind her back, and as if on reflex, her digits crook and flex. The danger of the words donât even register. Because, yeah, heâs right. Sheâs got a stranger holding her restrained, rocking up against her, and all that peaks in her at the filthy dialogue is a bud of deranged arousal. She doesnât shoulder forward though, doesnât try to pull her hands apart, doesnât sag forward, not even a little, too concerned that even a minute shift will alter the delicious intensity of the angle.Â
âNot even a little bit?â Harry tuts, grinding forward, one more time, slow, and then he squeezes over her wrists hard and picks up in pace. Just until he settles into a hard tempo of short, deep thrusts, and her shoulders are aching from the way he pulls her arms back.Â
His words blanket her with this patronizing sort of humiliation â the kind that has her spongy walls pulsing over his length and chills erupting from the nape of her neck to the creases between her shoulder blades. âYou make it so easy.â
So easy for a stranger to fuck her â so easy, pulling over in some desolate parking lot. So easy, letting him wrap a palm over her throat and stick his fingers past her lips. So easy, following his every command for the reward of his hips pummeling against her own.Â
And itâs easy to get close with the way he works into her, tip bumping into a spot that sends waves of pleasure coursing through every millimeter of her nervous system. The kind that has every muscle stiffening to stone until the wave ebs. Itâs so easy to lurch higher and higher, closer and closer, when his touch digs into her joints, rendering her helpless to his crude affections. When strained grunts and sordid words fall from his mouth, when his other hand slips from her hip and knots into the hair, at the roots, on the back of her scalp, only smushing her cheek into the seat with more pressure.Â
âFuck,â Harry groans, the pace of his thrusts stuttering as he picks up the tempo into something merciless, his digits flexing into her hair and his body weight sagging onto her frame.Â
Every time his balls slap against her clit, teasing where she wants that attention the most, she feels the spring draw tighter, lips smushed to and gaping against the seat. And then he readjusts his grip, lets one of her hands free while he keeps the other pinned, and he coaxes, âTouch your pretty clit, baby. Make yourself cum all over my cock.âÂ
Y/N makes it to the crest before he does. Itâs her fingertips sloppily winding loose shapes over the bud of nerves, itâs his cock hammering down into her, itâs the pinch in her shoulder, and the way Harryâs grip grows harsher over the hand he still has pinned, the closer he gets himself. The way his digits are still flexed at the roots of her scalp, the way his moans and curses are garbled with pleasure with each pump. The way her helpless fluttering, when she tips over the peak, draws this long, sordid groan from him as he cranes his neck back. And then he slows, ducking his chin to watch below through slow thrusts.Â
âDirty girl, cumming all over a strangerâs cock,â Harry swipes with a thumb where the mesh, toying at the seam of her hole when he goes deeper, again, slow.Â
And then his grip on her wrist gets hard again as his fingers flex, and he holds onto her hip and guides her in a steady-paced, back and forth bounce over cock. He chases his own releases, every motion rough, and full of control, and so brimmed with this unfamiliar hunger. Sheâs mush by the time his head tips back, and he gushes ribbon after ribbon into the condom. Sheâs mush when his grasp over her wrist grows lax, when he knees back clumsily on his knees, when he discards the condom, wrapping it into the confines of its wrapper, when he fixes her purple panties back over her crotch and strokes over the back of her thigh with an amused huff.Â
âAlright?â Y/N vaguely hears Harry say from behind when she doesnât instantly sit up, his voice bordering on amused.Â
Thatâs. Yeah, Y/N thinks. Sheâs great. Thereâs still this rush of blood in her ears, and an ache in her joints that interweaves with the soreness of her muscles, but itâs all in such a good way. She makes a barely coherent hum of agreement and rolls her shoulder forward, planting her palms onto the seat to sit up and glance at the time over the display in the front of the car. Itâs nearly three in the morning now, and it hits her then, that sheâs so tired. Sheâs so tired, she feels like every piece of her energy had been strewn up and pulled tight on a rope, and now itâs all wasted away.Â
Harry gets it. Or he seems to, at least. Sleep beckons her with a whispery croon and a soft touch. The corners of his mouth crook up, and he pats at her hip.Â
âHop up, pet. Dâyou want me to drive the rest of the way? Sâjust a little bit, now.âÂ
Y/N doesnât do hitchhikers. She doesnât let strangers into her car in the middle of the night from some empty road, she doesnât fuck them in the backseat, and she certainly doesnât let strange men drive her car to some unfamiliar location, only lacking being undisclosed from its visible street name on the GPS. Y/N doesnât do any of that. But she nods weakly and lets their roles flip. Sheâs mid-raising the back of the passenger seat by the time Harry jogs around to the driverâs seat and slips in.Â
In the rear-view, her reflection greets with her unshed tears and bloodshot eyes, mascara smudged below. He turns to face her and strokes a hand down her thigh. He picks the same hand up and sets it onto the gear-shift. Switches to reverse.Â
The first thing he says from the front of the car, strawberry mouth quirking as his eyes direct to the back-up camera, is, âIâm sorry about your tights. I hope that was alright.âÂ
When they pull up to the motel, Y/N doesnât ask questions. Thereâs only been a span of, maybe, ten minutes passed between the parking lot and their final stop of the night before Harry pulls into a parking spot and shuts the car off.Â
He tells her, âThis is my stop.âÂ
Y/N doesnât do hitchhikers, and exhaustion wracks at every sinew of muscle in her body. She half-expects him to wordlessly hop out of the car. He doesnât. The man fixes her with a smile, and says, âCould I get your number, maybe?âÂ
Itâs not an odd request by any means, but if she werenât so tired, maybe sheâd ask more questions. Her pupils would wend over the shoddy motel sign, and the shit cars parked beside them, and sheâd wonder what the hell they were doing parked in front of some abandoned-looking motel. Sheâd ask why this was his stop, and not a home. Instead, she pulls a napkin from her glovebox and digs for a pen. She scribbles her digits and hands them off. In the brush of the cool air, from the night, when she clambers out to swap spots with him, she wraps her arms about herself. When she takes a seat into the driverâs side, she expects him to walk away. He doesnât do that either. Instead, she rolls her window down when he beckons, and Harry leans onto the car and tells her, âGet home alright, yeah?âÂ
Itâs a miracle when she hobbles up the steps of her apartment complex, when she pries open the front door and crashes into her sheets. The blankets envelop her like a warm hug, and she doesnât even bother pulling off her tights.Â
Itâs a week before she gets a phone call. Thereâs no texts, and the morning after, when sheâs greeted with radio-silence, she thinks that maybe sheâd dreamt the whole thing.Â
Her tights, ripped at the crotch, prove otherwise.Â
Sheâs in bed, days later, when her screen lights up with a call. Itâs an unfamiliar number, and curiosity peaks before she swipes over the answer toggle.Â
âHello?âÂ
A gap of silence, a breath, and a familiar, smooth baritone on the other end of the line.Â
âY/N.âÂ
Thereâs a little sound of the bedsheets stirring as she freezes up. Heâs caught her off guard. A little laugh plucks at his vocal chords, tinny on the other end of the line, like heâs amused by the stretch of lull. Her lips part, the corners of her mouth inching up as she hears a sigh from him that seeps in all the way to her eardrum. But she doesnât have time to contemplate what to say or how to say it, because he doesnât let her get a word in before heâs talking again.Â
And his next words are not a playful jest at her lack of response, or anything friendly, really. In fact, the confession, said so nonchalantly, causes chills to erupt down her arms.Â
âI was going to kill you that night.âÂ
The chills arenât the initial reaction. The initial reflex is the crook of her mouth to morph bemused, the pinch between her eyebrows, and this sullen feeling of dread that twists up in her stomach. A laugh bubbles in her chest, because, what the fuck?Â
But then he keeps talking.Â
âThought about draining the life from those pretty eyes the second you rolled your window down,â the voice on the other end sighs, and itâs got this sort of âŠreminiscent quality to it. Like heâs tracing the steps of the night back to its starting point. Reliving it when he tells her, âItâs such a thrill, you know. Taking that from someone. So intimate.âÂ
The young woman doesnât make any sounds, kind of appalled by the sick joke. Because it is sick, itâs disturbing, and itâs a twisted way, at the least, to strike up a conversation if heâs âŠlooking to do what they did again. This isnât the Harry sheâd met on that night. This isnât the same one whoâd worn the cream sweatshirt, and talked all friendly with this smooth, wholesome charm â this wasnât the man sheâd let into her car, this wasnât the man sheâd let do all those filthy things to her, in the backseat of her sedan. This doesnât feel like the same man at all, and she wishes sheâd been aware of the sick sense of humor to his character before sheâd let him âŠviolate her. Y/Nâs just about to budge in with a disgusted comment, tell him off for calling her so late at night to mess with her, but he beats her to the edge of the gap, yet again.Â
Except this time, he sounds sort of frustrated, and the phrase comes out like a scolding, the tone of his cadence firm and irate. âDidnât your mum ever tell you not to talk to strangers? âŠDidnât anyone ever tell you not to trust strange men on the side of the road? Sâjust âŠbloody stupid.âÂ
He laughs. Itâs this soft sort of chortle sheâd been so charmed by that night â itâs identical, except then, it was this sweet sound full of wholesome mirth. Now, it feels cold. Odd and detached. Surreal.
âBut you⊠you made it so easy,â Y/N listens to every word that comes through the line, hanging onto every syllable of the empty threat as dread churns her stomach. His words from that night crowd behind her skull. You make it so easy. âSo friendly, so sweet. Just wanted to chat on and on. I was going to kill you, and you wanted to have a shagââÂ
Harry tuts. Her heart hammers behind her ribcage, and she only realizes that her breathing has slowed and that her grip on the smartphoneâs grown white-knuckled when it shakes against her cheek. Sheâd let him drive her car. Sheâd let him get into her car, sheâd let him lure her into pit-stopping in a deserted parking lot, sheâd locked the doors, and dimmed the lights, and let him open her up with his fingers and his cock. And then sheâd let him drive her car, and take down her number. Thereâs a moment of mortifying silence.
Harry sounds deadly serious when he tells her, âDonât you ever pick up another hitchhiker.â
The line goes dead.Â
Y/N calls back. The number she reaches belongs to a payphone, unanswered.
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being talked through an orgasm >>>
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Hear Me, See Me, Use Me
A/B/O Cassian x Reader
Summary:Â Cassian is in heat. He won't fuck anything except for you.
Warnings:Â Smut, breeding kink, biting kink, PRIMAL Cassian.
Word Count:Â 2,012
Notes: No idea what came over me but this is the Cassian I've been needing in my life tbh.
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âCassian?â your voice slips through the incorrigible thoughts cleaving through his mind. Itâs soft, sweet, and a little afraid. He fucking likes that. The brush of your voice in his ears makes the hair clinging to the nape of his neck stand, his back curve inwards, and his painfully raging cock spurt precum onto the pillow heâs fucking wildly.Â
His chest heaves and his fingers are curled so tightly into the stiff pillow on his bed that itâs torn. It has served him well thus far, but itâs a poor replacement for your soft cunt he wishes he could plunge himself into. His rut courses through his veins like fire. Heâs sweating with it, sharp teeth torn through his lips as heâs tried to get himself offâto take any of the suffering awayâpretending the pillow is you.
But itâs not your pliant body. Itâs not your smooth skin or your drenched cunt wrapped around his aching cock. Thereâs none of your pleasure-filled noises ringing around the room as he draws orgasm after orgasm from you, fucking into you as if you are no more than a plaything for him; a home to his cock and his cum, to the babe he desperately wants to fuck into you because heâs recessed into nothing more than that. He has one base need and itâs to plant a child in you and raise it to be another strong alpha, just like him. He has succumbed to his most rudimentary, primal needs. And he needs to fuck. And he needs to fuck you. Right now.
Heâs fucking hearing things now, he realizes. Youâre not really here, as Azrielâs already told him. The shadowsinger walked in on him while heâd been mid-fuck, rutting into his bed like a shameless teenager getting hard for the first time. You were in with another alpha, helping them through their heat, Az had recounted carefully. His stance was braced in the doorway, ready should Cassian leap off of the bed and come at him like the rabid beast heâs acting like at the news.
Cassian had seen red after that, banishing Azriel from his room. Heâd all but clawed the paint off of the walls, destroying nearly every piece of furniture in the room. Carnage surrounds him from where heâs curled over the pillow, almost seeming to smother it with that large body of his. The sight of it makes your cunt clench, wetness dampening your panties. For a fleeting moment, youâre frozen, heart racing as you watch the way Cassianâs powerful body moves. You imagine yourself held down to the bed like that as he breeds you, filling you with so much of his seed thereâs no way a babe wonât take.
And you wouldnât want him to be soft with you, not like the last alpha you helped had been. You donât want kind words and soft kisses, you want to feel Cassianâs sharp teeth gnashing at your neck, marking you, scenting you, filling you for all to see. You want to bear his litter, you want to slide to your knees before him, never part from him or his long, shiny length.
Shit. Maybe your heat has come early.Â
Your scent reaches him. You can see it in the way his back spine straightens and his thrusts into the quickly disintegrating pillow halt. Feathers line the bedâthe poor piece of fabric has taken quite the beating. You swallow thickly, wondering if your cunt will be able to survive the raw, primal actions of Cassian on his rut.
You clench your thighs at the thought, and Cassian slowly turns around.Â
His hazel eyes are all black, pupils so dilated you wonder if he can even see or if youâre just a blur. Most of the faelights did not escape his wrath, except for the one glowing dimly on the floor, surrounded by splinters of wood from the armoire, or was it a weapons rack? His favorite chair?
âCassian,â you breathe again, and his trance breaks.
He stumbles through the disaster heâs made. Cassian doesnât care if he steps on debris from his rage, his attention is locked on you and his raging cock that stands stiff from his body, bobbing with each step. Heâs so full of need he can hardly stand straight, spine curled as he towers over you, hot breath on your face, you sweetness on his tongue.
âThis isnât real,â he murmurs in disbelief. Youâre not here, you canât be, youâre supposed to be helping someone else. Cassianâs lips part and he takes a heavy inhale. Youâre not intimidated by his presence, even this far into his rut, but you might be once he catches a whiff of the last alpha you were helping on your scent. He growls, harsh and low, fingers curling into fists and your body coils on its own accord, but Cassian only snarls. âMine.â
You squeak as he scoops you into his arms, slamming and turning the lock behind you. His hands are everywhere, holding you with ease as they work your way through your clothes, tearing from your body as he makes his way towards the already destroyed bed, one leg kicked off, but the mattress is still good, and he doesnât care if he takes you on the fucking floor or against the wall or in the fucking bathing room connected to his space, he needs you desperately.
âYouâre here,â Cassian says, palming your exposed breasts. Your clothes are nothing but scraps now, but you donât have the slightest care in the world as his bare body presses flush to yours, pinning you to the mattress. His cock is heavy and hot against your soaking cunt, and he doesnât hesitate to push in. Heâs hardly in his right mind, this you know, but he feels so good, stretching your tight cunt with a growl that has your body relaxing into the plush bed beneath you, one filled with such protectiveness, the noise is one laying claim to you.Â
âYes, alpha,â you agree, gasping as he presses all the way in. Cassianâs hands are planted on either side of your head and his head is buried in the side of your neck scenting and marking you as he pleases. Heâs not gentle as he slips in, nor when he pulls back out and fucks his way back in again. But the noises of encouragement heâs drawing from you fill him with pride anyway.Â
Gods, does he want you. He wants to fucking chain you up with the thickest, most warded pieces of ropes of cuffs he can find. If he could detach himself from your writhing body right now heâd go for his belts, strapping each of your limbs to the four posters of his bed until he can find something stronger.Â
He wants to fill you up with his cum, eat it out of you and spit it back into that tight cunt while he waits for his cock to grow again. It wonât take much, you touch and taste and smell is fucking intoxicating. He wants to see your stomach swollen with his seed, his litter, his pups. He hooks his hands in the bend of your knees, lifting them so he can fuck himself deeper.Â
Cassianâs fingers dig into your skin and you moan loudly. His cock stretches you, fills your body perfectly. You squint your eyes open, but heâs not looking at your face. The blacks of his eyes are setted on your lower stomach, where he watches your body poke with his cock as he jerks into you. Your gaze dips lower, watching the press of his cock inside of you. It sends shivers zipping up your spine and you melt into the bed, growing wetter with need.
He wants to take care of you too. Keep everyone away from you so that youâre all he sees. All you smell and taste. No one is allowed near you. Not after this.
âYouâre mine, you hear that?â he growls, using his alpha voice. He knows itâll make you submit, but youâre well on your way, arching up into him as your cunt chokes his cock, cumming with such pleasure your vision whites out. Cassian doesnât slow, he speeds his motions, prolonging your orgasm.Â
You look ethereal while you cum, fingers clawing into his skin, the marks heâs already left on your neck shining bright. Your mouth is slack with euphoria but your body is tightly wound against him, as if trying to absorb his entire being into your soul.Â
âThatâs my girl,â Cassian praises, but it still sounds like a threat. In fact, the other side of your neck isnât looking marked enough. Blood dribbles down onto his sheets and he dives forward, lapping it up. You moan weakly, his tongue rough against your sensitive skin. The noise sharpens into a cry when he sinks his teeth into your flesh, following the same strokes of his cock as he gnaws at your body. âSo hungry for my cock, arenât you?âÂ
âYes, alpha,â you pant. You can feel his knot growing, dragging inside your walls. It heightens every feeling coursing through your body. The room is hot with sex and Cassianâs body covers you so thoroughly you can hardly even breathe in the best way.Â
âWant my pups, donât you, you greedy little omega?â he asks, but itâs not really a question. Heâs spewing his inner thoughts, too far into his alpha headspace to notice. Maybe youâre not even here in his mind, maybe he wouldâve acted this way with any omega heâd cross paths with, with how long he tried to stave off his rut.Â
No, you scold yourself, clinging to him. The thundering of his heart against your chest is reassuring. Azriel came to find you himself, said that Cass wouldnât have an omega if it werenât you, even if it killed him.
Both Rhysand and Azriel had been on standby, the High Lord and the shadowsinger willing to see Cassian through his rut, even though theyâre alphas themselves. The three of them have been through too much not to be able to see one another like this and help if needed.Â
But luck was on the shadowsingerâs side, as he found you just as you were to set off into the night, freshly showered from the rut youâd seen another alpha through. Heâd told you the predicament, and as tired as you were, the opportunity to not only see but assist Cassian through that torture of his own was a dream come true. Your body had been begging for him ever since youâd laid eyes on him and it made your heat come early back then.
Cassian grunts, knot swelling inside of the warm cavern of your cunt. You are everything he imagined and more, and you feel a million times better than that fucking piss poor pillow heâd had to use in your place. But it was worth it, not having another omega. He doesnât want anyone but you from here on out. He wants you, and so does the alpha trying to claw its way through his skin and into yours.Â
âGonna fill you full of my pups,â he grunts, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he ruts his knot into you. Itâs painfully hard, sticking to the walls of your cunt as it tries to attach to your womb, but heâs not had enough of you yet. âYouâre going to give me so many. As many as I want, right?â
âYes,â you moan, because itâs the only thing you can say, the only thing youâve ever wanted to hear. âYes, yes, yes!â
âThatâs right,â he agrees, shuddering as his cock locks deep in your cunt. His cock spurts, and his body constricts so tightly Cassian squeezes his eyes shut, hooking onto you tightly and rolling you both over so his arms donât give out and he crushes you with his weight. âFucking take all my cum, baby. Going to give you so much more of it tonight too.â
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Day 18: Sex Pollen - Bucky Barnes
Summary: It was your first mission out with your mentor, Bucky, but not all goes to plan when you stumble across an old Hydra laboratory and accidentally trigger a trap.
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dubious content (kinda), mentor/protege, grumpy/sunshine trope, sex pollen, fingering, begging, crying, rough sex, multiple orgasms, praise kink, creampie
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âCan you stay close to me?â
âBucky, if I was any closer to you, I might as well be your shadow. Will you chill out, please?â.
All the response that you are given is an exasperated sigh from your team leader, who was directly in front of you, his gun raised and pointing in whichever direction his eyes followed. You were so close to him that the head of his body seeped through his uniform and into your back as you followed his steps, almost like a choreographed dance with the synrosy.
It was technically your first mission today; even though youâd been over comms for Bucky countless times, he finally gave in and agreed that you could join. It wasnât that he didnât trust you; in fact, he trusted you more than most. It was more due to his intense mentorship and protectiveness that heâd developed for you over the years, which had everything to do with your clumsiness.
Yes, you were an agent, but there were only so many times that you could accidentally hurt yourself before they called in your experience and practice. You were moved to a behind-the-desk job, which pained your heart, but soon, Bucky was your partner, digitally through the headset and then in person, as you begged him daily for training and a chance to prove yourself.
He was reluctant, but you were like an incessant fly, always buzzing around him with that chirpy personality that even managed to draw a smile to his grumpy old - yet handsome - face. The more time he spent with you, the more you could chip away at his heavy exterior and mask, which only hindered your chances of returning to the field again, as the thought of having you so close in the danger zone had him near palpitations.
He blamed it on your clumsy nature, tripping over your own feet or dropping vital machinery, but in truth, Bucky had wanted to prioritise your safety, which was hard when he had a job to do. However, after months of pestering, you wore him down enough to agree that you could attend the Avengers to a sweep of a supposed deserted Hydra base.
âIf you continue down this corridor, I can check the roomsâ, you say quietly, hardly audibly over a pin drop, but with Buckyâs increased hearing, you knew he could hear.
âAbsolutely not; youâre staying with me; weâve discussed this. Weâll check the rooms together and finish the rest of the corridorâ. Buckyâs word was final, so you didnât argue back, restraining violently to not eye roll at his authoritative tone.
âYou two are like an old married coupleâ, Natasha quips over the comms, which was enough for both you and Bucky to roll your eyes. It was a comment frequently shared with those around you, and it warmed you to hear such pleasantries, and then the realisation that Bucky would never go for someone like you had the sensation of ice coursing down your spine.
âI think youâll find heâs the old one, not meâ, you retort sarcastically as Bucky leads the way into the first room. âThis looks like Bruceâs office or something. Do you recognise any of these experiments?â
It was an old, decrepit office laced with dust and thick cobwebs, similar to something from Frankenstein with the number of attempted experiments that seemed littered around the room. Endless stacks of paper, vials of dusky-coloured liquids, and photographs stapled to the walls that were decaying with age.
âNo, I donât recognise any of this, but whatever it is canât be good news. Stay close and donât touch anythingâ. You once more refrain from the eye roll, knowing he means well, but youâre not a child who needs to be reminded to hold their parent's hand all the time. Taking a step away from him, your eyes scanned the various objects, noticing that it was in a language you didnât quite recognise.
âThor, I think we have some voodoo stuff here thatâs from your neck of the woodsâ, Bucky announced through his earpiece.Â
âYou think so?â you ask over your shoulder towards the man with his back to you.
âYeah, I recognise some of these markings from his hammerâ.
âHuh. maybe itâs one of the bases Loki was hiding in; he did like dark and damp places- SHIT!â
To your credit, you hadnât touched anything or even tripped and knocked something over; potentially, a trip wire or a sensor was trapped in the room, but a light drizzling mist sprayed into your face halfway through your sentence. As you were talking, the concoction settled on your tongue but also seemed everywhere else: your eyes, nostrils, and ears felt wet.
âWhat? What happened?!â Bucky snapped, standing in front of you in seconds as he assessed you, wiping your eyes.
âIâŠI donât know, something sprayed me in the faceâ. As soon as youâd explained what had happened, Bucky was cradling your face more harshly than youâd have liked, tilting your face in all directions, even sniffing close to see what had covered you, but it had already absorbed into your skin.
Buckyâs eyes were frantically searching over every pore of your face like it would give him answers about what had sprayed you. His gloved finger and thumb holding your chin tightened as he swore. âFuck! I told you to be careful and stay by my side! Why would you touch anything?!â
Pushing his hands away from your face, you gave him an incredulous gaze, âI didnât touch anything! Iâm not an idiot, so you donât have to talk to me like Iâm one, bucky! Stop- stop trying to touch me, Iâm fine,â he had been reaching for your face to examine it again, ignoring your sassy, angry tone. Still, you stepped back out of his reach, becoming frustrated with his lack of trust.
As Buckyâs mouth opened to probably further chastise you, the door ricocheted off the wall as The Avengers swarmed into the uncomfortable small room. Natasha was by your side first, examining your face just as closely as Bucky, but at least she had listened when you explained that you felt completely fine. Tony then scanned your vital signs, which were also fine.
âI told you! Itâs probably some mouldy old water or something; I feel fine now can you all give me some space? Youâre making it hot in hereâ. You were fanning your face to try and cool yourself like someone had just turned on the heating, but it was primarily because the small room was full of warm-blooded people.
âLetâs head back out, and weâve nearly finished the sweep on the North sideâ, Tony began, the face plate of his suit sliding back into place. âWeâll continue and finish the rest.â He lifted his metal-covered hand and pointed a finger towards Bucky. âBarnes, take her back to the Quinjet, keep an eye on herâ.
âNo! Donât send me back to the jet like a child. I told you, I feel absolutely fine!â you quickly tried to rationalise with Tony. Still, he ignored you, hovering off the ground and flying out into the corridor. You looked to the other Avengers with the hope that one of them may find some pity for you, but all you had in response were close-lipped smiles that notified you that there was nothing that they were going to do.
Letting out a frustrated shout, you stopped, admittedly like a child, in the direction you and Bucky had walked down. Even though his steps were silent, you knew he was behind. You could feel his stare burning into the back of your head.
As you returned to the Quinjet, Bucky continued to stay silent as you both sat on opposite sides of the seating bay. Your anger spiked as you shrugged off your jacket, still feeling slightly warm and needing air to reach your skin.
âWhere are you going?â Bucky asked as you moved across the jet with determined steps.
âThe toilet, or do I need you to hold my hand as Iâm doing that too?â you snap, cheeks heating as anger bubbles deep in the centre of your chest. Bucky, for once, looked taken aback by your tone as he shook his head and allowed you to go to the bathroom.
Once inside the small compartment, you rushed to the sink, turned the tap onto its coldest setting and began to scoop it over your skin, sighing in contentment as your skin began to cool down. Pressing your fingers against your face, you felt uneasy with the temperature of your skin, and it was like you were starting to get the flu but also not quite at the heat that concerned you. You decided it was probably from rushing back to the jet after a few minutes of deep breathing.
A rush of guilt settled heavily in your stomach as you thought about how youâd spoken to Bucky. Youâd never broken rank and been that rude to him before. Not once had you ever raised your voice or even been angry with him, even through all the times that heâd declined your joining for a mission; it was always for the best, but now, everything just seemed to have escalated. You couldnât calm yourself down like you were buzzing from the inside out, affecting your temperature and mind.
Three swift knocks on the bathroom door had your head snapping in that direction. âEverything ok in there?â Bucky asked tentatively.
âYes! Canât a girl pee without being interrupted?â you snapped, and immediately, you regretted the nasty tone youâd spit out.
There was a pause from Bucky before he continued to speak, but this time, he had lowered his voice in a soft and calming way. âItâs been half an hour, and I just wanted to make sure youâre okay, Sweetheartâ.Â
Half an hour?! You could have sworn it was only a couple of minutes. Rubbing your hands over your face and shaking away the tension, you nervously opened the door, tentatively looking up at Bucky through your lashes.
âSorry, I didnât mean to be rude. I just didnât want to let you down, and I promise I didnât touch anything in the lab-â.
Bucky pulled the door open entirely, his eyes roaming over your body to check you were still in one piece before he sighed. âItâs fine, Doll. I just wanted to make sure youâre ok⊠Are you⊠ok?â
His blue eyes flicker over your face as he notices that there's something not quite right with you, but all you can manage is a shrug of your shoulders, wiping your eyes that were feeling a little irritated. âI feel mostly fine. I think I need a lie-down, thoughâ.
Bucky looked unsettled by your words but didnât stop you from walking over to the onboard bunker, where you rolled onto the thin mattress and promptly fell into a deep sleep.
âSo, are we just going to leave her here?â Tony sarcastically asked the other Avengers members, who were now watching you sleep.
âNo, asshole. Iâll take herâ, Bucky grunted, moving past the billionaire to squat beside your body. Youâd been in a deep slumber since collapsing onto the bed. Bucky had stayed by your side the entire journey home, which was a fair length, so he was surprised to see you still asleep. Tony had set up the screen to display your vitals, which he watched like a hawk and other than the fact that you werenât waking, everything remained normal.
The other Avengers didnât argue with Bucky, knowing how protective he was over you, as they shuffled out of the loading hatch. Bucky shimmied one arm underneath your knees and the other to support your back as he carried your bridal style. You moaned at the disruption, arms circling around his jacket-covered shoulders.
Bucky contemplated taking you to the medical bay for a thorough check, but seeing your peaceful face, he didnât want to disturb you. Heâd stay with you to ensure you were checked as soon as you woke up. It wasnât like it was the first time heâd stayed with you as you slept, as there were many times youâd either fallen asleep on his arm during a movie or gotten too drunk during an Avengers event that he stayed just to make sure you didnât choke on your vomit.
As he walked through the Avengers headquarters, he ignored the call for a debrief by his teammates and continued until he arrived at your bedroom, booting the door closed behind him.
Your bedroom was just as messy as he had anticipated it to be, stepping carefully over the shoes, clothes and books that you liked to say were carefully placed into piles on the floor, but youâd simply just left them there to clean up another time. Your bed was just as bad with mountains of pillows that you insisted on having, even though Bucky thought it was severely excessive.
Trying to reposition his hold on you, he hoisted you higher to spare one of his hands to throw the numerous pillows you owned onto the floor. In doing so, your forehead rested against his cheek, and you released an unsettled whine on the impact of his skin touching yours.
Bucky froze at the noise, trying to look down at your face, but in his position, he couldnât see properly as you were thoroughly tucked under his chin. Finally having enough space, he ever so carefully led you out onto the soft mattress.
Your eyebrows were furrowed as if you were having a nightmare. Bucky sat beside you on the bed, counting your breaths and frowning when he noticed that you were breathing more rapidly than you had been when he was in his arms.
Sweat began to gather along your temple, causing your hair to stick to your forehead, which he quickly moved to move away. As the tip of his fingers connected with your skin, many things seemed to happen simultaneously.
For one, you released a deeply pained groan as you curled your body into a ball on your side, beginning to breathe in quick succession like you were hyperventilating.
âSweetheart?â Bucky asked with rising concern, now cupping the side of your face with his flesh hand, but this seemed to trigger the pains enough that you awoke.
Your eyelids fluttered open just to clamp shut again, squeezing as you cried in unbelievable agony. Your skin was burning as if all your nerves had been individually set on fire, causing sweat to come to the surface of your pores drenching your clothes, which was still mostly your uniform.
âIt hurts. Itâs too hotâ, you whimpered, lower lip wobbling as eyes effortlessly tracked down your cheeks. With trembling fingers, you attempted to undo your trousers, but the stabbing pain in your abdomen caused you to curl further into a ball like you were trying to shield your stomach from anyone touching it.
âLet me help. We need to get you to cool down. JARVIS, inform the medical bay that we need some assistanceâ, Bucky shouted Tonyâs AI that ran throughout the building.
As Bucky managed to undo the button to your trousers, JARVIS responded with news that had Buckyâs heart almost stopping. âThey are aware of the situation as Mr Stark has requested that I record her vitals from returning to Avengers headquarters. You are both officially in quarantine until they can find out what it is that was sprayed and affecting herâ.Â
The sound of the bedroom locking echoed louder than any of your sobs as Bucky cursed, running up to the barricade and attempting to break out. âYou canât just lock us in here! Sheâs going to die, Stark, you piece of shit! Open the door!â
âBucky!â you cried pathetically, still attempting to remove your clothes even though all that remained was your t-shirt and underwear. Bucky didnât immediately rush back to you as he removed his jacket, giving him more freedom to swing his metal arm back and punch his way through the bedroom door, but all it did was bend; it still wouldnât open.
âFuck!â Bucky shouted, seething with unending rage as he rushed back to your side, helping to pull the shirt over your head. âChrist Doll, your skin is warmer than mine. Come on, Iâm going to carry you to the bathroom; we need to cool you downâ.
Bucky carefully carried you to your en suite bathroom in the same bridal style as before. He tried not to grunt at how warm your body was against his flesh arm as he carefully placed you into the bath, but as he tried to move away to turn on the shower, you screamed out, grabbing onto his arm to keep him close.
âDonât leave me; it feels good to have you close, please!â Bucky frowned, not entirely understanding what you meant, as surely his higher-running body temperature didnât feel good when you were burning up so significantly.
âI need to turn the shower on. Iâll be two seconds, and Iâll be back, I promiseâ, he explained and then didnât wait for your response as he pried your nimble fingers off your bicep. As soon as some of him didnât touch your skin, the symptoms worsened.
Bucky flinched at the pitch and volume of how you screamed. He scrambled to reach over the bathtub to switch on the shower head high above the wall and hastily turned the temperature down until cold water was running out.
âSweetheart, you need to move further under the water; please work with me here. Youâll feel better, you just need to move for meâ.
Your whole body was shaking with such force that you found it difficult to suck in air as the heat of your skin was the last of your worries. The pain in your abdomen had turned into pure agony, and if you were to describe it, it was almost like you were cramping, waves of stabbing pain but exaggerated to a level that made it impossible to breathe, think, or even want to survive. It was so severe that you couldnât hear what Bucky was begging because you were desperate to try and hold your abdomen as it would in some way ease the pain, but not only this, your body was reacting in an extreme way to try and fight the unknown sensation coursing through your veins.
As if to relieve the cramps, your cunt produced an obscene amount of fluid to the point that it was dripping out of your hole and pooling beneath where you sat. If Bucky turned off the shower, youâd probably appear just as wet with how much of your juices were coming out.
âFuck thisâ, Bucky whispered under his breath as he failed to get you to move by yourself. Awkwardly, due to the limited space, Bucky climbed into the bath, hoisting you forward to sit behind you and force your body further under the cold water. This, in turn, means that he began to get soaked, including the tactical gear he still wore on his legs, his combat boots and the black t-shirt. He didnât care though, not when you were deteriorating so significantly.
Bucky put it down to the water, but as soon as he was in the bathtub, his body pressed against yours and arms wrapped around your waist so that the bare skin of his arm and metal touched yours, the screams reduced to stuttering whimpers.
Your head rested back on his shoulder, out of the way of the flowing water, but as your forehead turned and met his chin, you turned further to nuzzle closer.
âMoreâ, you whispered, fingers digging into his forearms to hold him closer.
Bucky readjusted your body so that it sat fully between his thighs. âMore what, Doll?â he asked gently, his thumb rubbing in circles along your rib cage. It was only now that he contemplated that you were in your underwear, but it was an emergency, even though some part of him deep down was awakening in some deep-seated emotions heâd been trying to keep locked away.
For the first time since youâd been in pain, you responded to his voice by turning your head slightly but only to rest your lips against his neck. âMore!â It was like a siren was sounding through your mind, and the sensation of Buckyâs skin against yours was quietening it to a soft buzz; even the cramping had eased somewhat to a dull ache.
Bucky frowned, confused by your demands, but he squeezed his arms around you further, deciding that maybe it was the comfort that was helping you.
âIt hurtsâ, you sobbed against his neck, âwanna feel more of your skinâ.
âMyâŠmy skin?â Bucky asked, completely confused by your request and deciding that youâd probably entered the delirious stage of whatever illness you were experiencing.
âMr Barnes? Are you there?â came a voice from the speakers in the ceiling.
âJARVIS? Is help coming?â Bucky asked with hope pleading in his voice.
âNo, sorry, Mr Barnes, but we have an update. It seems that Mr Odinson has read through some of the markings found in the footage taken from the lab. The mist sprayed was, in fact, from Asgardian origin. Mr Odinson informs me that it is most likely planted there by Mr Laufeyson as a trick he has played many times in their lifetime.â
A prank? It sure didnât look like a prank with the way you were trembling and crying in Buckyâs arms. âSo what the hell is it? How do we stop this from getting any worse?â
âThis is of a delicate matter, Mr Barnes, so forgive me. Mr Odinson informs me that the chemicals used in the mist are an aphrodisiac used during specific parties in Asgard to increase the user's arousal. Still, due to the amount of time that this substance had been left in this hydra facility, it has caused the ingredients to age and the symptoms to increase in intensity. However, Mr Odinson has reassured me that the symptoms should reduce if you were to consummateâ.
Bucky was speechless as he looked down at your precious, unwell body in his arms. âYou canât be fucking seriousâ, heâd meant to shout, but all that came out was a doubtful whisper. âWhat would happen if we left her? Would the symptoms lessen? She doesnât seem to be in as much pain when touching my skinâ.
âUnfortunately, after some time, the symptoms will reduce. The chemicals used are designed to last as long as possible, and as they are all out of date, Mr Odinson is unsure how long this may last, but with her vitals as abnormal as they are now, it is unwise to leave her. Mr Stark has suggested that if you cannot fulfil the role of consummation, then he would find someone who couldâ.
Buckyâs reaction to Stark's comment was to shout in rage, and he could picture him now smiling at his sarcastic comment. There was no way he was letting anyone else touch you. âWhat if she doesnât want that? Iâm not touching her if she doesnât want-â
âI doâ, you gasp whilst still resting your face on his neck, calming your cries enough that you could hear JARVIS. âI want it so bad; I need the pain to go away. Please help me Buckyâ.
Whether it was the way that you begged him for the intimate act or the thought of potentially what was happening, Bucky regretted to say that his cock twitched in the confines of his underwear as he sat up further. âSweetheart, do you understand whatâs being asked? To do this-â
âI want you to touch me, Bucky; I donât need to tell you how long Iâve wanted this. I know you know how I feel, but please, I canât feel like this anymore; it hurts everywhereâ.
Buckyâs eyes glazed over. All the time of knowing you, he had somewhat of an inkling of the shared feelings. Still, it was firstly unprofessional of him to act on any feelings, but his self-conscious bias of being undeserved of love due to his past as the Winter Soldier stopped him further.
However, now, you were led out before him, ready to live the dreams and fantasies heâd been stuck on for so long, but whatâs worse was the pain you were experiencing. It seemed he took too long to answer as he could feel the shift of the heat radiating from you once more.
Your back arched as your fingers delved between your legs, cupping your mound as the pain increased; this time, it wasnât just the cramps but also white-hot tingles beginning in your clit, over every little sensitive nerve that ran throughout your core.
âPlease help me!â you cried, tears lining your eyes.
Bucky had to decide then and there if he would potentially watch you suffer with unimaginable pain or help in the only possible way. Heâd agreed, had from the second Jarvis had suggested it, knowing that he couldnât lose you.
Sitting up slightly, Bucky reached behind his head to pull the black t-shirt off and onto the floor, the wet material squelching on impact. With his chest bare and kissing the skin of your back, you sighed in relief, but the throbbing between your thighs didnât cease.
âOff, I need these off!â you referred to your underwear, the bra and panties restraining the areas that hurt you the most. Using his metal hand, bucky quickly tore through both garments and discarded them onto the floor to join his shirt.
The sound of relief that you made caused his heart to beat with a more affectionate rhythm as he looked down at your now naked body. The shower continued to coat you with cool water that glistened off you. Your nipples were the first thing that he noticed, impossibly hard and aching to be touched, and it seemed he was reading your mind as you grabbed his metal hand and used it to cup the squishy mound, directing his thumb and forefinger to pinch the sensitive nub.
You released a heavenly cry, back arching and thighs clamping shut at the lightest of touches. With his warm hand, he did the same to your other breast as he carefully squished both in his palms before rolling your nipples between his fingers.
âYes! Feels so good, just like thatâ, you beg, eyes still shut, but your head had rolled back onto his shoulder, giving him the space to respond to his desire of gently kissing the column of your throat. Even this sparked more moans from you, needing to feel the plumpness of his lips, needing the electrical tingles that came from his touches to continue.
The kisses were soft, like he was scared to touch you, but as your sounds of pure elation continued, so did his confidence as his mouth opened, applying wet, open-mouth kisses to your skin.
As if on instinct, responding to these touches, your hips began to rotate, pushing down harder against his groin until Bucky was moaning in pleasure.
âMore, touch me moreâ. Bucky responded to your demands by smoothing his flesh hand down your abdomen, feeling the skin taunt, reacting to him. He moved over your mound as he watched closely from over your shoulder. This was when he felt it, the wetness that was continuing to be produced and pour out of your cunt. Even though the shower was still coating you, the substance was different, verging on feeling slimy, more slippy and seemed to cover everywhere from the waist down.
Bucky contemplated licking his fingers to taste you, especially as his mouth filled with saliva with the need pulsing through him. Still, it wasnât about him, so he continued lower until his fingertips were parting your labia.
The second his middle finger stroked your clit, it seemed a wild animal took over you like you knew how close you were to receiving what you truly wanted but not quite going at the speed you wanted.
One flick of his middle finger against your swollen, throbbing clit was all you allowed before you were turning in his arms, pushing his arms away momentarily as you raised onto weak knees.
âNeed you now. I canât wait; it hurts so much Buckyâ. As you explained your reasonings, your shaking fingers were reaching for the waist of his tactical trousers, trying to undo the belt but grunting when you struggled to do so. Bucky thankfully helped you then, ignoring the evident trembling in his fingers from all of the adrenaline as he unfastened his belt, button and zipper.
With this new freedom, you were able to reach inside the space and grasp his hard dick, pulling it out of the confines of his clothes. You marvelled at it for a single second, enjoying the softness of the skin but the firmness of the shaft, the bulging veins and tip that was bulbous and aching to be stroked. It was like your prize, your pot of gold at the end of the tunnel, and you needed it inside of you right that moment.
Seeing and hearing your desperation to be as quick as possible, as the cramps continued to pulse through your abdomen, Bucky quickly grabbed your hips, pulling you over his lap to straddle him, even with the awkwardness of the squished space in the bathtub.
Your hands rested on his shoulders as you lowered yourself. Neither you nor Bucky had ever experienced anything like it. The agony catapulting through your veins completely shifted to one of pleasure, like a switch had been flicked throughout your body as you took inch after inch of his delicious cock. Bucky, on the other hand, was having to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from cumming, but he did moan in an animalistic way. Heâd never been inside a cunt that was so perfect before, so deliciously warm and unnaturally soaked; you squeezed his cock in pulses that he soon realised was the thump of your heart.
âThatâs it, youâre taking me so well.â Bucky couldnât help but praise, wrapping his arms around your back to provide further support.
As your body naturally seemed to adjust to the size of his cock, you didnât waste any time before beginning to ride him with the help of Buckyâs strong arms.
The shower still coated you both in refreshing cold water for the heat, devouring the two of you. Bucky is still wearing his tactical trousers and boots, and you are completely nude and riding him like your life depended on it. Well, it did, in a way.
Up and down, you bounced, your tits jumping on your chest, which caused your pebbled nipples to rub against his, giving extra stimulation. You were so incredibly out of breath with the momentum of fucking him, but you didnât stop, only occasionally softening the bouncing to a soft roll which always caused Bucky to moan and squeeze the cheeks of your arse together.
In no time at all, you were finding your peak, cunt pulsing dangerously tightly around his cock as you came, face hiding on his shoulder as you slumped against him for a second. Bucky thought this would be over, that he would have to carry you to bed and hope you felt better soon, but then he began to feel the wetness flowing around his cock and the throb returning. Shortly after, you were whimpering.
âIt hurts again, please Bucky, I need you againâ.
Bucky didnât need telling twice as he thrust his hips up to snap into yours, causing your delicious moan to echo around the room. He needed to hear it again, so he repeated the action, but it was difficult to find any sort of leverage in this position, so with his metal arm positioned beneath your arse, he supported your weight and stood. His boots were now the objects to be squelching as he moved towards the shower wall.
There, he pushed your back against it and began to fuck you with deep, fast penetrations. Your head fell back against the tiles, nails digging into the skin of his shoulder blades as you didnât want this pleasure to end.
âHarder, Bucky fuck me harder!â you cried out, knowing he was still holding back. Bucky grunted, shifting so that both of his hands were beneath your arse cheeks, holding you more securely so that he could fuck you without any restraint.
Each thrust had you almost blacking out; they felt so good. The tip of his cock smashing into your cervix, which any other time would have potentially hurt, but for now, it was just what you needed.
You came again, spluttering and quivering from your mouth and cunt as he helped you over the edge. However, once more, the pains returned.
Bucky had once thought that his increased libido due to the super serum was a hindrance, but for the only time in his life, he was thanking whatever asshole had experimented on him for this moment.
His trousers and boots had been removed as he had carried your dripping body out of the shower when he realised your temperature remained low if he was fucking you. Into the bedroom, he continued his impressive and thorough fucking. Pushed onto the bed on all fours, in the spooning position, even missionary, and he wouldnât change positions until you were a cumming bumbling mess. Wherever he decided to bend you over, it was always him on top; your legs were shaking too much to support your weight anymore, but he didnât mind, not when he could take full control and draw orgasm after orgasm from you.
After god knows how many orgasms, Bucky finally couldnât edge himself anymore and came with a gruff moan against your collarbone from where he lay over you, his seed seeping into your swollen hole, warming and massaging internally. This finally seemed to settle you, like it was the one missing ingredient your body needed, as you slumped onto the bed without any more cries of pain.
Bucky collapsed next to you, pulling your exhausted, limp body on top of his, your face resting on his chest as you both tried to calm your breathing.
He thought youâd fallen asleep, but then your face was tilting up to look at his, which, in turn, he looked down to look at yours. Even though you looked thoroughly exhausted, he could see that you were beginning to return to your usual self as you smiled so gently that it caused his heart to beat harder. Something you could hear as your ear rested over his heart. Tilting your head up further, your lips caressed his before Bucky could contemplate what you were doing.
The kiss was light and delicate, and it finally dawned on Bucky that this was the first kiss shared between the two of you, having been so distracted with fucking your brains out that he thought kissing would be too intimate. Neither of you said anything, just continued to smile before sleep finally captured your conscious minds.
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you ever listen to a song 47 times in a row and every time youâre like wow what a good song. Iâm gonna play it again.
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no because i have had this thought since this years met and i NEED to tell someone
imagine like influencer!reader who is doing interviews at the met (kinda like emma chamberlain) and sheâs like a very known fan of harry (and was very open ab having a crush on harry online because she was so sure this man would never see it) and she interviews him and is lowk nervous becauseâŠ.. heâs harry styles and maybe he somehow (definitely) KNOWS. she has a massive crush on him and just
basically that!!! so if you could could you write something w that? iâve had the idea for months it was driving me crazy
lingering
Summary: Everyone knows Y/N has a crush on Harry. But she didn't expect him to know about it too. She could have never imagined things to unfold this way...
Warnings: Y/N has a very obvious crush on harry, fangirling ig???, Harry is a tease, suggestive language, anxious Y/N, oh Harry is also a huge flirt, kind of a fast pace way to a one night stand (no graphic description)
Words: 2.3k
A/N: Gosh, I love that idea!! Influencer!Y/N x Harry is one of my favourite dynamics ever. This turned out way longer than planned but I hope you still have fun with it!
Masterlist | Request
The Met Gala was the event of the year. For everyone. Not only for her. But for her it meant so much more. It was her first opportunity to make the jump from being a simple Influencer to being a real presence in the world of fame and celebrities. Of course, she wasn't just seeking fame and attention, but more possibilities. Open up new ways of life for herself andâ
There was a light tap on her shoulder. She turned around in an instant, looking at a familiar PR manager she had talked to a few weeks ahead of the gala.
"I'm so glad you could make it. We were really blown away by the podcast you did and we're excited to see how the interviews on the red carpet will turn out," the blonde woman said, giving her a soft smile. She was wearing a tight black dress, a clipboard in hand, but the blush on her cheeks, combined with the small beads of sweat on her forehead, were the only things telling of today's pressure on her.
Y/N could understand. She had paced up and down in her hotel room earlier today, changing her outfit three times and making sure every little strand of her hair would be in place perfectly. Today was not for imperfections. Today was a step into the future â hopefully.
"I need to thank you for inviting me. This opportunity is really one of a kind andâ"
"I'm so sorry, dear," the manager interrupted her as she fumbled around in her small Valentino bag, following the ringing of her phone. "No problem," Y/N replied, giving her a reluctant smile.
She could hear the camera shutters go off in the distance, probably due to the arrival of the first guests. Her palms were growing sweaty. She was getting closer to her "big" moments. Soon, she would be talking to all these famous people, ones she had always looked up to, others she had admired for years.
"It's time to go," the manager said quickly, pushing Y/N into the direction of the carpet. The camera man followed close behind, probably being on her tail the entire day. A microphone was pushed into her hand as well as she stepped out onto the long red carpet, hundreds of photographers waiting on the sides. Their lenses were focused on the few celebrities already on the carpet.
Ryan Reynolds was one of them which made her feel giddy inside already.
But the real surprise came around the corner just a moment later. Flashing lights were going off left and right as he appeared in his lace outfit. It was way more see-through than she could have handled in any other situation.
Harry Styles looked stunning.
Her grip around the microphone became tighter as she watched him pose in front of the cameras, earring dangling on his sides, his hair styled perfectly.
A part of her wanted to rush over immediately. Ask him a million questions and record all of it. Because when would she ever be face to face with the Harry Styles again?
Another part of her, a much stronger one, felt the urge to run backstage and escape this moment. She was way too afraid to embarrass herself in front of her biggest celebrity crush. The worst thing was â everyone knew she had this huge crush on Harry for years. She was quite open when it came to talking with her community about people she thought of as attractive or had a crush on. But she was also usually a thousand miles away from said crushes. It had always been a quiet admiring through her phone screen and giggles exchanged with friends over dinner.
Harry wouldn't know this, of course, but it surely didn't make the situation easier for her.
He seemed to be a walking reminder of what people knew about her and testing her own awkwardness in the process.
Before she could turn around and make her escape to probably lock herself in the bathroom as to not embarrass herself in any way â because that would truly be a tragedy in front of him â he was already right in front of her.
There was the charming, witty smile he was giving his fans or interviewers all the time. His eyes looked a deeper shade of green as she was standing right in front of him. Of course, she had looked at a thousand pictures of him over the last few years, but nothing came close to this moment. Maybe it was the heat that was rushing into her face or maybe the overwhelming urge to present herself from her best side â but it was all so different than she had ever imagined.
Y/N took a long breath. She needed to focus. Or else millions of people would see her shocked expression all over Instagram, Twitter and National TV. So she did what she always did best. Entertain.
She turned towards the camera. "Harry Styles just joined us at the Met Gala!" She said excitedly and none of it was part of her acting. Genuine excitement was bubbling uncontrollably in her belly.
Then she turned back around and shook Harry's hand. It was enough to make her legs wobble for a moment, but she was a grown woman and she would stay calm. On the outside at least.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N."
He knew her name? How did he know her name?
Something had to be wrong. She tried hard to stop herself from pinching her arm in an attempt to wake up from this dream or nightmare â whatever you wanna call it.
"You're looking amazing tonight. Do you mind telling us more about what you're wearing?" She smiled and held the microphone into his direction.
Harry gave her an enthusiastic nod and then started to talk all about the designer of his outfit and how it was composed. She listened carefully, bound to his lips as she had been so many times before through the screen.
He continued to keep eye contact with her, continuously making her nervous. It wasn't his fault. She just wasn't prepared to get any attention at all from him.
"Thank you so much. Are you looking forward to tonight's after show party?" She had so many more questions to ask. About his music. Even about his favourite food. But none of that was expected of her right now and she didn't want to lose herself in the admiration she had kept for that man for so long.
"Definitely. Will you be there too?" Harry tilted his head to the side, slightly â a small sign of curiosity.
The thoughts in her head stopped for a moment. Was he really asking her...? He was just making friendly conversation. Nothing more. The slight smirk in his face was nothing. Nothing to think more about.
"Probably. Maybe we can share a drink if we see each other?" She could feel her palms growing more and more sweaty. Was this really not just a dream?
"That will be on me. See you later then." Then he shook her hand again and she prayed that he wouldn't feel how sweaty she had become. How her nerves were running wild inside her body.
"See you later."
Her face felt like it was on fire just a few hours later. She was looking at herself in the mirror, her hair having turned messy and her eyes almost screaming the truth at everyone.
She was nervous and out of her mind.
The music outside was loud. Giggles and laughter echoed over into the bathroom whenever the door opened and a new woman came in. She had seen so many celebrities today that she had lost count. Some of them asked her if she was alright, if she needed help with her make-up, while others just continued on with their day.
When she was alone for a brief moment, she took a deep breath. "It's gonna be alright," she muttered under her breath before she pushed herself off the sink and went back into the crowded room.
The bar was illuminated with purple lights and that's where she was headed. On her way there, she could see him following her in the corner of her vision.
This was really happening.
"What would you like to drink?" His voice was deep, but loud enough for her to make out his words in the packed room. A shiver ran down her spine when she felt his arm brush hers as he made his way to her side.
Harry leaned against the counter casually, his outfit catching her interest immediately. He had changed into a white shirt with a huge red bow at the front.
And he still looked as good as earlier.
"A Martini is just fine," she answered with a smile, pushing herself to sit on the barstool. Harry ordered two drinks for them, before he sat down on the chair next to her.
"You're enjoying yourself?" His voice was laced with curiosity once more, his hand resting on the bar. She had a hard time not taking a closer look at the rings adorning his fingers.
"Oh yeah, a lot. What about you?"
"The evening is about to get a lot better now that I finally found you," he admitted with a low chuckle and accepted the drinks from the bartender when he came back over.
Y/N could feel her head spinning. What did she do to get all this attention from him? Did he know what he was doing to her? Did he know about her crush on him?
"Those are some pretty heavy words if you acknowledge the fact that we have never met before today," she replied, a simple attempt to cool down herself and ground them both in reality again. Or more so herself.
"That's true, but I like to make people happy."
She almost choked on her drink. He had to know something. How would he know that talking to her would make her day?
Knowing that Harry Styles had probably seen a video of her made her feel even more dizzy.
She needed to loosen up. This would be her only chance at spending an evening with her favourite singer and long-time celebrity crush. Another sip from the Martini as a way to gather some liquid courage as quickly as possible.
"Me too. I hope talking to me makes you just as happy as it makes me," she answered with a smile, gathering all the confidence she had.
Harry's lovely smile as he took a sip from his straw was all she needed as confirmation. Maybe she was in for a good time if she came out of her shell and was able to push her anxiety to the back of her mind.
"It definitely does. I've seen your video on 2010's fashion just a few days ago. It was a really good watch."
She couldn't hold back her huge smile. Harry had seen her videos and liked them. That was more than she had ever hoped for. More than she had ever allowed herself to dream about!
âOh my god, that means a lot to me, I-â
âIâm so glad you didnât include my too tight skinny jeans in there, actually. That would have been embarrassing,â Harry joked casually, his eyes wandering from her hands to her mouth and then her eyes.
While his eyes were filled with joy and curiosity, his gaze still seemed to keep her trapped under his spell. There was something undeniably charming and menacing about Harry Styles.
She had known it all along, but seeing it in real life, actually being under said spell, was a different experience entirely.
"I believe they still looked decent," she admitted with a small shrug, taking another sip from her drink.
"You certainly don't look decent tonight. That can only be described as stunning."
She was so taken aback by the compliment that she was close to spitting out her drink. Her hand wrapped tighter around her glass and she was thrown into a spiral of nerves and anxiety. Was Harry Styles straight up flirting with her? He definitely was and she had no idea how to act.
"Have you looked at yours-"
"I don't need to look at myself if I can look at something better." His voice had grown deeper and he moved closer ever so slightly.
She was at a loss for words now. Where was this going?
But she quickly decided that she liked it, despite her initial anxiety.
So Y/N took a step closer as well, her fingers brushing past Harry's as she was setting down her drink on the counter.
"You're really a flirt," she whispered, wondering if he had even heard her over the loud music.
But his eyes seemed fixed on her lips, a smirk resting on his own.
"As you have suspected in a video or two..."
It sent a shiver straight down her spine to get more and more confirmation that he had been watching her stuff. He knew exactly what he was doing to her and she wanted to let him do whatever he wanted.
This was what she had been waiting for.
"Maybe you can prove a bit more of my assumptions right?" She replied, fingers brushing over his forearm, under his sleeve and feeling the soft skin. She wanted to see him without the top. She wanted to finally see that naked chest up close, take a look at every little line of his tattoos and count them all.
"Why would we waste any more time then?" He grinned, his right hand coming up to wrap around her wrist slowly. He took her hand away from his skin, intertwining their fingers slowly before he slid off his chair.
They left their unfinished.
But there was more important business to get to.
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