Love Is Blind- Loki

Love is blind- Loki

Summary: You join an experiment for Shield Corp’s new dating app. You must see if you can find the one to spend your life with sight unseen. Your heart is set on Loki, but will your differences outweigh your love? Will you stand at the alter and say I DO? 

Pairing: Loki X Reader (Plus Size) 

Warnings: Talk of grief, Fluff, Eventual smut, Mutual pining, some angst.

Chapter 1:

               “Is love blind, can an emotional connection be strong enough to last a lifetime? Over the course of this experiment, we hope to not only find the answer. Over the next 2 weeks the 14 of you in this room will be dating 14 other individuals in another section of the estate but will never see their faces. That is until you find the one you think is your perfect match, get a proposal, AND a yes.” Nick Fury stood imposingly in front of the group of women, while his colleague Maria Hill was giving us a hopeful smile. “Are you ladies ready to meet your potential husbands?” Fury smirked at all of us like a cat does a mouse. And I couldn’t help but question what I had gotten myself into.

                 Six months ago, I lost my dad. He was my best friend and the person I could always rely on. My mom was devastated, he was her other half. I’ve never seen a connection like theirs anywhere else, they understood everything the other needed without question. They moved as one and finished each other’s sentences, they made it look so effortless. I’ve spent my whole life looking for that connection, my equal who will understand me completely.

In today’s world of “dating” apps where love = dick pics and messy one night stands that end in you being ghosted, my view on love isn’t exactly the standard anymore. It doesn’t help either that most of the guys are superficial pigs who neg woman for their skin color, fashion sense and most commonly, their size. As a size 22, I’m not exactly what most go for. I can’t count the number of comments I’ve received over the years on dates. “Don’t worry, you’ll lose the weight”, “You’d be so pretty if you just ate a salad”, “You looked smaller in your pics, stop fishing using angles.”

Fuck them! My diet is balanced, and I do cardio and strength training. I’m just curvy. Not my fault that they can’t handle all I have to give. I love my body, now I just need to meet the man who can handle all of me. And that’s when I got the ad, an email from the ShieldsDown app, the dating app made by Shield Corp. designed for serious relationships only. I had applied and was pending approval, only to get an invitation to participate in their latest experiment. Why not? Let’s just hope I don’t get my heart broken; a gal can only take so much. I smiled at the screen as I press accept.

               Now I’m one in a room of 14 beautiful women, all shapes, sizes, and shades, all awaiting the green light to enter their pods. Some of them seem great, like my roommate Nat, a beautiful red head with a light creamy complexion, she has a slight accent, but I can’t place it. Then there’s Pepper, a gorgeous and very thin woman dressed in designer clothing, such an elegant poise to her. A few others seemed nice enough, a young red head named Wanda, an enchanting woman with mocha skin, a shaved head and serious expression named Okoye, those are just a few that I’ve bonded with. But not everyone is very supportive of the “competition” as some put it. One being a blonde girl next door type named Sharon, her face is pretty, and her hair is a nice style, but her personality is so toxic. I’m already done with her, and we only met 4 hours ago.

               A buzzer sounded and the lights by our doors turned green, signaling that our pods were ready for our first dates. I turned to my new friends and looked them each in the eye with a nervous smile. Wanda looked excited, Nat looked bored, and Pepper was so nervous she was wiping her palms on her Gucci pantsuit.

“Good luck ladies” I forced passed the lump in my throat as I opened the door to my future.  “Wish me luck Daddy, I think this is it.”

                                      ------------------------------------        

               “Hello Darling, who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?” a smooth silky monotone voice greeted me. I couldn’t help the flush rising in my cheek.

God, why did the first one have to be British? I love accents! I can already feel my knees getting weaker. SHIT!! How long has it been since he spoke? Get it together Y/N!

“Y/N, and the gentleman with the delicious accent would be?” I replied, grateful that my voice wasn’t as shaky as my legs.

I heard a deep chuckle from the other side of the wall. “Loki darling, a pleasure.”

Inspecting the room as a distraction, I realized it only contained a large sofa and a coffee table, both facing a wall with a light up blue stained-glass wall with a speaker on each side. I got settled in while I asked him about his room, to which he replied with similar descriptions. After that topic was used up an awkward silence started to creep in.

“Ok, I’ll just say what we are both thinking. This is weird.” I break the tense silence and hear another chuckle. “Admit it, it’s true. I mean we are talking through speakers near a wall to a Stanger, who may or may not be our spouse in one month.”

“It is quite odd, never really thought this would be how I’d find my partner. Or that I’d even get a say.” The last sentence was almost mumbled, as if it was an after thought spoken aloud.

“Wait, so is your family into arranged marriages, is that what I’m hearing?”

“Technically yes, the only exception being that my parents, well adopted parents, chose each other. So, they felt like it was fate that they were paired together.” His voice sounded so wistful when he spoke about them, you couldn’t help but pick up on certain things.

“You lost them.” It wasn’t a question, he spoke about them with a love and sadness that you understood completely, the same way you sounded when you talked about your dad. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

There was a stunned pause, “How?” he questioned. “You too.” In that moment he felt at ease, someone else understood his pain. They didn’t pity him for his loss, they just felt a shared pain of their own.

“Yeah, my dad. He passed back in July.” The tears were falling silently down your face. You laughed the pain away. “And this is why I suck at dating! First 5 minutes and I’m talking about death. So romantic.” He laughs with you, “I think the blame for this interesting turn of conversation rests on both of us Darling, not just you. And as far as death, I’ve delt with my fair share of loss. When opening up to someone it’s inevitable that the topic with take a grim turn at some point. I rather like that we got it out of the way early on.” I could almost feel his warm smile as he spoke to me.

               Over the next hour we stayed on lighter topics, do we have any siblings, our favorite subjects from school, and even most played song this year. Loki has one brother and one sister, both his father’s biological children, but the oldest, Hela, was from a previous marriage. Loki’s favorite subjects were English, theatre and music, very unsurprising as he seems highly educated and elegant in his speech. His most played song, however, was very surprising. Hank Williams’ Hey Good Lookin, which I got a rendition of as proof. He even makes my southern accent sound sexy, damn.

               We were interrupted by the buzzer and red light near our separate exits. I let out an involuntary sigh, my disappointment evident.

“I don’t want to leave either Darling, but rest assured you will be hearing from me again. Very soon.” Loki smiled at the glass on his side.

A smile light up my face, “If we must. I fear I may be bored until then Loki, so try to make it quick.” Our light banter coming naturally as if we had known each other for years instead of minutes.”

“Until then darling.” He heard the click of her door closing and with that sound his heart sealing on her. His Y/N, she was the one. He just knew it. Mother help him, is this how Odin felt when he met Frigga? If so, he understood why his father made the nine realms bow to him to keep her safe. He would do anything for this witty, energetic, and enchanting woman, and he had yet to even see her face.

Avengers Masterlist:

Love Is Blind:

Summary: You join an experiment for Shield Corp’s new dating app. You must see if you can find the one to spend your life with sight unseen. Your heart is set on someone, but will your differences outweigh your love? Will you stand at the alter and say I DO?

Whatta Man

AN: Well folks, I've beaten my own record for length of a one-shot. I could have posted this as a mini-series, but didn't want to tease y'all.

This is full of filth and I am not sorry in the slightest. This is a no-powers AU.

Mood board by me, dividers by @firefly-graphics and beta'd by my dream team.

Master list here

Pairing: CamBoy Sam x Fem Room-mate reader, Nat x Steve (Background)

Word count: 11k

CW: Fluff, Angst and SMUT!!! (inc both male and female masturbation, the former described in a lot of detail)

MINORS DNI

Do not copy/transfer/transform this work. If you see it posted anywhere but here or on my AO3 (Late_to_the_party_81) it has been taken without my consent.

“You want me to do what?”

Your voice rose to a high squeak as you processed what Nat had just asked. Your roommate at least had the decency to hide her face behind her hands, and peek at you from between her fingers.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, but Steve’s place is rented, and I own this apartment. It just makes more sense for him to move in with me than the other way around.”

You weren’t angry with her; far from it. You were pleased that her relationship with Steve had progressed to the next level and they were moving in together, but the fact that it meant that you had to move out had your head in a spin. You’d moved in with her two years ago when her younger sister, Yelena, had left to go to college and you were desperate to get out of your parent’s house.

You twisted your sweater sleeves around your hands as you tried to process everything.

“So, erm, I suppose I ought to start looking for somewhere else?”

You really didn’t want to have to move back in with your parents; you and your mom were too alike to be able to get on for longer than a few days.

“Well… about that. Steve and Sam have still got 9 months left on their lease, so Sam will be looking for someone to share with. Gives you a bit more breathing room and would make moving much easier.”

Nat’s suggestion made sense. You didn’t know Steve’s roommate Sam that well; he tended to keep to himself, but you’d never heard any complaints from Steve about him. Could you move in with a man you barely knew, even if his friends and yours could vouch for him? Well, when the other option was your parents, the answer was a resounding “Yes!”.

“Let’s hang out, the four of us. If I feel that Sam is someone I can live with for the short term, then we can set up a moving date.”

Nat squealed and threw herself at you, wrapping her arms around you and knocking you back on the sofa cushions. She peppered kisses all over your face, leaving red lipstick marks.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her over-enthusiastic gratitude. And anyway, how bad could living with Sam be?

Bad, that’s what it was.

Okay, maybe you were being a bit over dramatic, but compared to what you were used to with Nat, living with Sam was, well, lonely.

With Nat, you ate meals together, watched films, and binged box sets together. You went out shopping, and whilst you know those trips would still continue, they were currently on hiatus as Nat and Steve were presumably christening every single surface in the apartment. That was an image you really wished you weren’t having.

You'd obviously seen a lot of Sam on the day that you moved in. He’d smiled genuinely at you, thanking you again for saving him from the horror of posting for a roommate, and you’d answered in kind. Then he used the impressive muscles that he (unfortunately) kept covered up under a t-shirt to move your boxes from the hallway into Steve's old, and now your new, room.

“I, um, made Steve bleach and vacuum before he left.”

You’d chuckled at that, and he’d continued to smile. He was a very charming man, and you’d have been blind not to notice how physically attractive he was. However, since that day, you’d barely run into him. He left the house early every weekday morning for a run, a routine that he’d had before he’d met Steve, and which he and Steve had continued together. You had no idea if Steve was still joining Sam or not.

By the time he came back, you were on your way out to work. In a sweet gesture, he always seemed to come back with a coffee for you, and as you weren’t a morning person, it was greatly appreciated. You knew he had a day job, some kind of cycling delivery person, and you guessed that was one of the ways he stayed in such excellent shape. He also had some other kind of job, something computer based that he did a couple of evenings a week, including Friday evenings. He glossed over it, saying it was rather mundane and boring, but paid the bills.

Three weeks in and you’d only shared a handful of meals together and two movies. Oh well, it was a different dynamic, and it would take time to find your feet. You vowed to make more of an effort, and that would start tonight. You went grocery shopping on your way home from work, picking up the ingredients you would need to make your signature dish: sausage and red wine casserole with creamed potatoes, a selection of greens and a baked cheesecake, New York style of course.

You were just testing the cheesecake with a skewer when the door opened, heralding Sam’s return.

“Hey Roomie, what’s smelling so good?”

You’d planned to answer eloquently but you were momentarily struck dumb. Sam’s cycling gear, white and red in colour, was skin tight, showing off his muscular frame. The skin that wasn’t covered had a slight sweaty sheen to it, evidence of Sam’s hard work. His protective eye goggles were pushed up on his head, and the cords of his earphones dangled over his chest as he removed them. Jesus Christ, you could see his nipples through his shirt, it was that tight…

“I… um…”

Your brain finally rebooted, and you managed to process his question, plastering a smile on your face as you answered.

“Sausage casserole and cheesecake. I was thinking, you know, we haven’t had much time to hang out; maybe it would be nice to eat together tonight. I’m not sure what your and Steve’s routine was, but Nat and I would eat together fairly regularly.” You looked away from him to slide the cheesecake back in the oven, glad that it gave you a moment to compose yourself. Your appreciation of his attractiveness could not be allowed to morph into a crush. That would not be good.

“Sounds good, Squishmallow.” You turned back to face him and rolled your eyes.

“Really, Sam? Just cos I have a few…”

He chuckled at you, the sound deep and melodious and somehow making your core vibrate with want. Shit.

“A few? Girl, you got more of those things than Toys 'R' Us.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, gesticulating with the spoon you’d been using to stir the casserole.

“Hey… they’re cute and nice to cuddle.”

He leant over the kitchen counter, grabbed a fork and pinched a piece of sausage out of the pot on the burner.

“You need to get out more, Squishy. I’m gonna go have a shower. Looking forward to dinner. A guy could get used to this, you know.”

He sauntered away towards his room, and you couldn’t keep your eyes off his ass as he walked away. Maybe spending more time together wasn’t going to be the best idea…

The front door closed with a bang, galvanising you into action in your bedroom, where you had been laying, post shower, tired from work.

“Squishy? I’ve got the take-out.”

You pulled on your sleep shorts and shirt and walked into the living room.

“Stop calling me that, Sam.”

“Nope! Now it looks like you haven’t picked a film for us to watch, so you forfeit.”

He placed the bag of take-out on the coffee table and flopped down, full-length, onto the sofa, grabbing the remote and starting to flick through the channels. You picked up one of the cushions and smacked him with it.

“Hey, no fair!”

“Way fair! But if you make me a cup of coffee, I may relent.”

A disgruntled snort was your reply, but you still moved to the kitchenette and put the kettle on the stove for your tea and turned on the coffee machine for Sam.

“Don’t pick anything too scary, Sam. You know I’m a wuss.”

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll protect you.”

You were glad he was facing away from you so he didn’t see the shudder that ran through your body at the use of the pet name.

Over the last month, after the dinner that you’d made, you and Sam had been spending more time together. Whilst it was never going to be the same as living with Nat (you missed having someone to review your outfits with), you and Sam had settled into something… well, nice.

A couple of times a week you’d take turns to either making or picking up dinner, and when your schedules allowed, you’d watch a film together. It was Thursday today, and tomorrow night you were heading on out with some of the girls at work, and Sam had his evening job.

Finishing the drinks, you carried the mugs through. To celebrate having had you as a roommate for a month, Sam had brought you a mug, covered in pictures of squishmallows. In response, you’d bought him a bike mug with double entendre statements across it, which had made him laugh.

You placed the mugs down next to the takeout bag and then motioned for him to move his legs so you could sit on the sofa.

“So, what are we watching?” You questioned him as you unpacked the white cardboard containers from the bag. “And did you get my noodles?”

“Yes, oh Mallow dictator, I got your precious noodles! What about a classic? Fifth Element? Or the Mummy?”

“Ooh, the Mummy! I’ve not seen it in ages.”

With your noodle box in hand, you tucked your legs up under you and watched as Sam selected the film.

“Question for you, Sammy. Rachel Weisz, Brendan Fraser or Oded Fehr?”

Sam caught you in an amused glare and let out a huff.

“What kind of question is that? The answer to that question is always ‘yes’, but you forgot about Patricia Valazquez.”

“Gold body paint!” You chanted together before collapsing into giggles.

“Correct. Any other answer and I would have had to disavow you as my roommate.”

As the opening credits began to roll, you cosied down next to Sam to enjoy the misadventures of Evie, Rick and Jonathan with Ardeth rolling his eyes at them every chance he got.

Lights flashed and the bass-line thumped as you made your way across the night club towards the ladies room. Friday night and you were out with your girls. God, you’d needed this; it had been too long, and whilst Sam was great to hang out with, you couldn’t have a good gossip with him in the same way. You hoped work wasn’t too onerous for him tonight. You were glad you didn’t have to do a tele-marketing job from home to make ends meet; your office job might not be the most exciting, but it paid enough and was good and steady.

There were about eight of you out from work, and it had been a riotous evening so far. You were all well lubricated with wine, vodka and gin and had now come to the club to dance off your drunken energy. You and your friend, Sophie, finally found your way through the cavernous space to the washroom, and after doing the necessary, you both fixed your make-up before heading back to the rest of the group. You found them at your table, all giggling and half leaning over each other to look at the phone that Helen, one of the others, was holding.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

Cassie lifted her head, grinning.

“Helen was showing us this Camboy feed she discovered, and -phew-ee- is this guy hot! Come on, Hel; show her.”

The group shuffled around in the booth as Helen rewound the video and passed it across so you and Sophie could watch. The video started with the camera pointing at a backdrop, a light orange colour, which you thought was a strange choice until the man walked into frame. His face wasn’t in the shot, but the background showed off his skin tone to perfection. He wore a white shirt, sleeves rolled up and the buttons straining against his broad chest. Tan leather pistol holders were visible across his shoulders, with matching bracers on his lower arms and brown pants held up with a leather belt.

“Wooooo, he’s doing a Rick O’Connell cosplay.”

Sophie let out an appreciative whistle. Something niggled at the back of your mind, but you couldn’t drag your eyes away as the man swayed and rolled his hips to the camera in time to the music he had on in the background. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, dragging it out from where it was tucked into his trousers, the fabric fluttering. One broad hand slid down his front, drawing attention to his pecs and abdominals. He slid the holsters off his shoulders so that the shirt could follow. It stopped briefly when it was half off so he could flex his biceps and show how the fabric tightened around them.

You shuffled in your seat. He hadn’t even got to the good part yet, and you were already involuntarily clenching your thighs together for some relief against the pulsing inside your underwear. Next the guy, USFalcon, according to his handle, slowly unbuckled his belt, pulling it slowly from the loops, before folding it in half and snapping it together, making a cracking noise. The sound made a dart of electricity zing straight to your clit.

“Fuck; imagine this guy tying you up with that belt!” It was like Sophie was vocalising your inner thoughts.

With the belt discarded, he ran his thumbs around the waist band of the pants, teasing his viewers as his fingers ghosted over the button, a button that was starting to show the strain against the now obvious bulge under the fabric.

“Come on. Come on.”

It took a moment for you to realise that it was you talking under your breath. Christ, it was obviously far too long since you’d last gotten laid if you were getting this wound up watching some anonymous guy do a strip tease on the internet.

Your attention was brought back to the screen as he finally, finally, popped the button and lowered the zip. The pants clung to his thick thighs, and he pushed them down to reveal a pair of somewhat anachronistic white boxer briefs, but at this point you didn’t care. The stretch cotton showed more than it revealed; it might have well been painted on. God, it reminded you of Sam and his cycling gear.

“Fucking Christ!”

Helen leant over to you. “Wait until he takes them off…”

You didn’t have to wait that much longer though. He teased himself and the viewers first, his hands running over his body again, including his clothed cock. When a small wet patch appeared on his underwear you swore you almost came in your own panties. You wanted to lean inside the screen and suck on the fabric. Then he pushed them down and off, letting his cock bob unimpeded for a few seconds in front of the camera.

Fuck, you’d never felt this level of desire before, and you could feel your cheeks heat. USFalcon’s cock could only be described as beautiful; slightly longer than average, but the girth! Just thinking about it had you clenching, imagining being split apart on it. The tip of it was cut and weeping salty pearls.

You felt a finger on your chin and your eyes darted to the side. Helen pressed under your jaw, closing your slack mouth. “Girl, you’re drooling. Do you and USFalcon need some alone time?”

“I’m telling you now; this guy has a new fan!”

“I can tell.”

You returned your attention as USFalcon drizzled some lube over his gorgeous cock before wrapping his hand round it. He slowly moved his hand up and down his length, coating it in the slippery fluid. His movements then became firmer and faster, his spare hand trailing over his body, teasing his dark, pebbled nipples. You wished you had earbuds in, so you could hear the sounds he was making, but you already knew you were going to watch this again when you got home; you were dying to get your hand inside your panties.

You could almost imagine the breathy moans coming from him as he worked his cock. You could see his defined abdominals clenching, his heavy balls twitching. You crossed your legs under the table, squeezing your own thighs together as you watched him cum, ropes of his white spend running down his cock and fingers as he worked himself through his orgasm.

You slumped back in the booth.

“Damn!”

You heard everyone around you chuckling at your outburst. Someone, you weren’t sure who, placed a shot down in front of you, and you knocked it back, shuddering as the alcohol burned your throat.

You slammed the glass down on the table.

“Okay, ladies. Time to dance! I’ve got some frustrations to work out.”

You all laughed some more, before heading across the rather sticky floor to continue partying until the small hours. When you finally got home you were too drunk and tired to make good on your promise to yourself to watch the video again, but if you happened to have an interesting dream where USFalcon, dressed as Rick O'Connell, but with Sam’s face rescued you, dressed like Evie, from evil mummies - well that was no-one’s business but your own.

“I’m never drinking again…”

Your pathetic moan fell from your lips as you wrapped your pillow around your head in an attempt to keep your brain from running out of your ears.

There was a series of soft taps on your door, but to your hungover senses it sounded like a series of gunshots. You hunkered down under your bedding, squeezing your eyes tight, letting out a pathetic moan.

You heard your door open and a soft chuckle made its way across to you.

“Feeling a bit delicate, Squishy?”

“Fuck off, Wilson.”

Another chuckle and then your sensitive ears heard him making his way across the room. A clunk and a rattle sounded on your bedside table before your mattress dipped, indicating he was now sitting on it. You pulled back the covers enough so Samuel could see part of your face and you opened one eye.

“Loving the panda-eye. You too drunk to take off your make-up last night?”

“What do you think?”

You glared at him the best you could with one unfocused eye.

“I’m surprised you didn’t wake the whole building when you came in last night. I think you were shouting that you were Evie, and you were wondering where Rick was. I don’t think you should watch The Mummy again anytime soon…”

You groaned in embarrassment and pulled the blanket back over your head.

“Anyway, I’ll leave you to suffer. I brought you some water and some meds. Let me know if you need anything. I don’t have a delivery shift today, so I’ll be around.”

You mumbled out a thanks and heard him leave, pulling the door gently closed behind him. You shuffled yourself out of your cocoon enough to take the painkillers, nausea rushing through you as you sat up enough to not choke on them.

“Fuck..”

You collapsed back down, the world still spinning and you closed your eyes, passing out again in a matter of minutes.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍☕️🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

It was late afternoon when you woke up again. There was another glass of water, a glass of apple juice and a wrapped sandwich on the table beside you. Bless Sam, you thought. After sitting up and eating your snack, with more hunger than you thought you had, you realised that you were also feeling better than you had any right to.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way to your en-suite, grimacing when you saw your dishevelled state in the mirror. Not only did you have an amazing panda-eye going on, one of your false eyelashes had moved itself to adhere to your eyebrow. You peeled it off with a hiss, wincing as it took a couple of hairs with it.

You turned on the shower as you peeled off the t-shirt you’d somehow made your way into last night and your underwear. As you waited for the water to warm, you giggled to yourself remembering the video you’d watched and how it had made you feel.

Making your way under the scalding spray, you relished in the feeling of the water cascading over your body. You scrubbed away the sweat and the dirt of the night before and as you did you ran over what you remembered of USFalcon’s video. The snippets you recalled made you warm and tingly all over. You exited the shower and secured your towel around you, returning to your bed. You wrinkled your nose as it got a waft of sour alcohol sweat; you’d need to change your sheets before going back to bed later, but it would wait for now. You grabbed your tablet and typed in the address of the internet site that hosted USFalcon’s videos.

In order to view them, you’d have to sign up. You tapped your finger against your lips as you pondered an anonymous username that suited you. Inspiration struck and you typed it in, popped in your card details and smiled as you made it through the entry portal. It seemed that this guy had been posting videos one to two times a week for the past eight months. That was a lot of material.

You grinned to yourself. This should keep you occupied for a while. You scrolled up and down. The video you’d watched last night was his latest, streamed live and then posted earlier on in the evening. Getting comfortable on your bed, you connected your earbuds and pressed play.

It was as good as you remembered, and it wasn’t long until your fingers were working feverishly over your clit. Your cunt clenched around nothing as you watched that strong hand working up and down the cock of your dreams. With your earbuds in, you could now hear the sounds this man made, and they were delicious. Small grunts accompanied the movement of his hand until he came with a long moan. You bit your own lip as you came, not wanting Sam to be aware of what you were up to, because that would just be utterly embarrassing.

Yes, you thought. You were going to have great fun watching this guy’s videos. You wondered what sort of ‘show’ he would do next. You checked his schedule and saw that he was due to post again on Monday. Until then, you’d just have to manage with his back-catalogue…

Sunday you hung out with Nat, meeting her for brunch, although you just stuck to orange juice, your hangover having only just left you.

She asked how you were getting along with Sam. You admitted he was good fun, although not a patch on her, but that you were adjusting. You didn’t mention how he was distractingly attractive, because you didn’t want her trying to take the mickey or set you up. Nor did you mention your new wank bank material, you didn’t want her to think you were pathetic, lusting over some anonymous guy you were never going to meet.

In return you quizzed her about whether she and Steve were out of the honeymoon phase. Her coy smile and the way her cheeks pinked showed they weren’t, and you cackled so loudly other patrons stared at your table. After stuffing your faces with English muffins, smoked salmon and eggs multiple ways and earning the disapproval of the maître d', you said goodbye with a lingering hug and a promise to meet up again soon.

When you got home Sam was lounging on the sofa, watching football. You hadn’t seen him yesterday afternoon after your ‘self-care’ session, or this morning when you’d headed out to meet Nat.

“Hey Sam, whatcha doin’?”

You lifted up his legs, sat down on the sofa and placed his socked feet back on your lap.

“Chillin’. Watching the Saints whup the Falcons.”

If he felt you start at the word falcon, he didn’t show it.

“Like, the Saint’s are my boys, but really, the Falcons fucking suck this season, and it just makes it boring for everyone.”

He decreased the TV volume and turned all his attention on you.

“Have a good catch-up with Nat? Steve texted me and we went for a run while you two stuffed your faces.”

“Yes, it was great! She and Steve are still sickenly in love…”

Sam snorted. “Don’t I fucking know it. He needs another topic of conversation…”

“But we did agree that we should all meet up to do something together. What are your plans for next Saturday?”

“Nothin’ at all, Squish.”

“How about a day out on Coney Island? I haven't been there in ages.” You barely waited for his answer before you were texting Nat to set up the plans. You didn’t notice Sam looking at you as if he were trying to observe the very depths of your soul.

“There we go”, you announced. “All organised. They’ll come here at 10am and then we can all catch the train together.”

“I have to say, you’re looking a lot better today than you did yesterday.”

You dipped your head, embarrassed. “Um, yeah, not my finest hour. Thanks for not taking the piss too much and bringing me that snack.”

Sam shifted, swinging his legs off your lap and turning so he was sitting next to you, bringing you into a side hug.

“No problem. I gotta look after my Squishy, otherwise how will I get awesome food cooked for me? And anyway, I thought you might need energy for whatever you were gonna get up to once you woke properly. Was I right?”

You peered at him, slightly confused. What was he getting at? A jolt of panic shot through you; had he heard you ‘entertaining’ yourself?

“I…um…well it gave me the energy to have a shower, change the sheets and go back to bed, so…um…yes, you were right…”

He looked back at you and for a moment you were lost in the depths of his eyes. Then, without warning, he got up, heading over to the kitchen and putting the kettle on.

“Tea?” He asked as he got your mugs down from the cupboard? “I’m gonna make a coffee then I got some prep work I gotta do before work tomorrow evening.”

“What about the game?” You turned to look at the screen, only to see that the match had come to end, the Falcons having suffered the most embarrassing defeat at the hands of the Saints. For some reason you were a bit sad, part of you had been rooting for the team. Get a grip, just because they have the same name as your current obsession…

Sam placed your mug on the coffee table, and then to your surprise dropped a kiss to the top of your head. “See you in a bit, Squish. You doing dinner or am I?”

“I’ll do meatloaf - if you go out and get some red wine. We’re all out.” You answered without thinking, head still reeling over the soft kiss.

“Sure thing, later.”

He closed his door firmly, and you sat there, somewhat dazed at the moment of domesticity between you. Fuck. You needed a boyfriend, or at least a good dicking down; you were starting to get housewife fantasies over your roommate…

Monday afternoon and you knew you had to get a handle on yourself. You knew you had a tendency to hyper-fixate on new things, but you’d spent nearly all day preoccupied about USFalcon’s stream this evening. You’d treated yourself to watching another of his old ones last night; from Halloween, where he’d been wearing a white leather harness with wings attached and a white, shiny thong. He made dressing as an angel so sinful.

But tonight, as you were going to watch live, you could tip him in real-time, send messages about what he was doing and what you liked. Yeah, other folk were going to be doing that too, but it still felt more intimate.

There had been something though, as you’d watched last night. Some kind of niggling feeling. It teased at your brain like a familiar smell, or a word that was on the tip of your tongue but you couldn’t quite get out. Familiar and unknown all at the same time. You tried not to worry; your brain liked to play tricks on you on a regular basis and you knew it would come to you eventually.

When you got home, Sam was in his room, his cycling shoes with the cleats discarded in the vicinity of the shoe rack. You tutted your yourself and straightened them, mainly so you didn’t cut yourself on the sharp metal. It was 6pm and the live stream was due to start at 8.30pm. At least you wouldn’t have to come up with an excuse to abandon Sam; his evening job started at 8pm so he wouldn’t be around to walk in on you. You knocked on his door though.

“Sam, I’m back!”

He opened his door slightly, sticking his head through the gap. He looked a bit stressed, which wasn’t normal for him.

“Hey, Squish… I ordered for pizza, if that’s okay? I’m right in the middle of something important, so when it gets here can you just pop mine outside my door? Might be able to talk later if you’re still up when my shift finishes.”

You had to admit you were taken aback. This wasn’t the normal Sam you knew, but then again, work kicked everyone’s ass on occasion so you decided to cut him some slack.

“Um, yeah. Sure thing. Have a good shift, and you know, if you ever wanna vent, you know where I am.”

He grinned, and your stomach flipped.

“You gonna be my Mallowy therapist now?”

You stuck out your tongue in reply and made your way down the hall to your room, all to the sound of his deep chuckle and click of his room door closing.

An hour later and you’d had your shower and dressed yourself in a comfy sleep set. You’d make a drink whilst waiting for the pizza to arrive.

You took your mug off the draining board and dried it with a dish cloth before deciding to make Sam a drink to go with his pizza as well.

The kettle was squealing as the doorbell rang so you quickly turned the stove off before going to answer the door. Luckily, Sam had paid when he’d ordered and you took the boxes from the delivery guy with a smile before kicking the door closed. You made the drinks and went and knocked on Sam’s door.

“Pizza’s here!”

You shouted through the closed door. Your ears picked up some shuffling sounds and a strange scraping and then a somewhat muffled response.

“Ah, just leave it outside the door. I’m just a bit tied up for a moment.”

“Want me to bring it in?”

You swore you heard a strangled squeak, before his muffled voice sounded again.

“No, no, that’s okay. Outside is fine…”

He really was acting strange this evening.

“Well, okay then. Have… um… have a good shift.”

You placed his pizza and mug of coffee outside his door, collected your own from the kitchen, and retreated to your room. As you ate, you set up your laptop, your good headphones, and your favourite toys and lube from your bottom drawer. As the clock approached 8.30, you cleared away your pizza box and mug, washed your hands, and then returned to your bed, laying out a towel.

You clicked on USFalcon’s page and a video window popped up with a countdown timer. You whipped off your pyjama shirt and shimmied out of your shorts, comfortable on your bed in just your underwear. The countdown hit zero and the video faded in to show the familiar backdrop and what looked like a velvet draped high backed chair. Music started to play, something exotic and evocative.

When USFalcon’s distinctive body sashayed into the frame your mouth dropped. His skin, so delicious looking normally, was covered in a layer of gold body paint, stylised black geometric patterns gracing his arms, chest and thighs, some kind of furred cloth covering his groin.

His head was in shot this time, but he had a mask covering his eyes, with a fine gauze attached to it, reminiscent of belly dancers, so that all his features were hidden. Then it hit you- apart from his mask and veil, he’d recreated another outfit from The Mummy; this time Anaksunamun.

The part of your brain that housed the niggling feeling started up again. You watch the Mummy with Sam and then you discover a sexy cam boy cos-playing the characters? What were the chances? No, it must be just a coincidence; with Brendan Fraser back in the public consciousness there had been a resurgence in interest in the film. That must be it.

A shake of USFalcon’s hips made you return your attention to the screen. He was putting on a little dance swaying to the music and rolling his hips. Fuck, you could wash laundry on his abs, should you feel so inclined!

He ghosted his palms across his nipples making the dark nubs pebble up, and all you could think about was biting them. His thumbs danced delicately around the thin cord holding up his furry ‘thong’, drawing attention to the gold metal cuffs around his wrists and the rings on his fingers. You could imagine how the cold metal would feel against your skin; taking hold of your arms, stroking up your thighs, wrapping around your throat…

You slid your hand down across your stomach and into your panties, finding your pussy already dripping. You started to slowly circle your clit as you turned your attention back to the screen. The thong dropped away, and you sucked in a breath; the gold body paint and black line work extended down that beautiful cock. The lighting in the room made it shine and you couldn’t hold back your own moan as you took it all in. You leant across to the laptop and clicked the button to send a tip.

He didn’t immediately take hold of himself, but slowly shimmied around in a circle, showing off his tight buttocks and the design that extended over them. He definitely got points for maximum effort and dedication to his fans. When he finished his turn he backed up, seating himself on the edge of the chair, legs wide apart. Reaching briefly out of frame, he pulled his hand back to show a small gold ewer. He tipped it up, a drizzle of oil spilling out into his palm. He placed his hand between his splayed legs and you swore your heart stopped as he started to circle around the furled muscle of his hole, smearing the oil over his flesh. He leant back in the chair, abs tensing, cock bobbing as he let out a salacious moan as his finger pressed in.

“Fuuuuck…”

Your own finger pressed into your wet pussy, your rhythm matching his. His free hand rubbed across his chest, the black lines of paint smearing as he squeezed his pec and plucked at his nipple. You copied that action too. When he added a second finger, you did as well, the coil of desire inside you tightening. He trailed his hand down his body, across his abs, until he took hold of his cock. He looked so debauched, head thrown back, fingers pressed tight inside him, body paint smeared across his chest and now his engorged length. Your own hand moved to your clit.

Another punched out moan came from him as he pressed a third finger into himself, an answering whine falling from your own lips. His hips rolled on the chair as he fisted himself in time with the thrust of his fingers. His sounds were so restrained; you wished he would let himself go, let himself fully vocalise his pleasure. You imagined how he would sound, in tandem with you, your cries merging together in an erotic symphony as you worked yourselves together towards your peaks, eyes locked…

You couldn’t stifle the sound that came from you as your orgasm crashed over you, your cunt clenching on your fingers, your hips snapping up as each wave of pleasure rolled through your body. As you sagged back into your pillows you realised that USFalcon was still somehow going. The man had stamina!

Wiping your hands on the towel, you deposited another tip on his account. You couldn’t be certain, but you were sure his head turned to the side briefly, as if he was watching his computer screen. He twisted the wrist between his thighs, that deep grunt signally he was nearing his own end. You imagined he was having to bite down on his lip as the hand on his cock stuttered once, twice and then he was cumming, the sticky fluid destroying the rest of the body paint on his cock.

He lay replete for a few moments, probably gathering his thoughts before he withdrew his fingers from his body and sat up. He stared into the camera and there was something about his eyes, the way they felt familiar, and as though he was staring straight at you. He got up from the chair, sauntering towards the camera, before moving behind it. His body paint was smeared from sweat and from being rubbed against the velvet covering the chair, and he looked like sex personified.

As the screen faded to black he must have nudged the camera a bit, as a different bit of the room came into focus for a moment. You froze, hand reaching out to close down the browser window. You felt the blood drain from your face.

No…

I couldn’t be…

Your eyes must have been deceiving you…

You didn’t just see the handle of a very distinctive mug in the edge of the shot.

You couldn’t rewind to check; you’d have to wait until USFalcon uploaded the video to his archive page. Then you’d be able to freeze frame that point, that’s if he didn’t edit it out. You got up, went to the bathroom, and washed yourself up before returning to your room and tidying your bed. Navigating to the archive, you pressed the refresh button, but the latest video didn’t appear. To be fair, he was probably still recovering himself.

Leaving your room you snuck down the corridor on tiptoes. Pausing outside Sam’s door, you pressed your ear against the wood. You could hear some kind of music, but it was so faint you couldn’t make it out. Should you knock? But if you were wrong, and he was working, you’d be disturbing him.

You carried on down the hall to the kitchen, grabbing yourself a glass of water and quietly returning to your room. It was getting on for 9.30pm by now, and you had to be up early for work.

Flopping down on your bed, you grabbed your book and tried to read, breaking off to refresh the web page every few minutes. You picked up your phone, pondering, before sending off a text. You placed down your phone and worried the tip of your thumb with your mouth. An insistent buzzing a few moments later had you snatching it back up.

You peered at the screen, willing it to give up some more information of its own accord. Was he just being his usual friendly and cheeky self, or did he mean anything specific with that comment? You were confused and anxious.

You tapped refresh again to no avail, going back to your book and reading the same paragraph over and over. Eventually you threw it to the side in frustration. You went and cleaned your teeth and face and on your return were finally rewarded. The video was loaded.

You clicked on it, muting the sound and moving the scroll bar along to the last minute. You tried not to focus on the sight of his cock and his hands working himself, your brain telling you to feel embarrassed, not horny, as you watched him come. You tried to focus on the parts of his body you might recognise. The hands maybe?

When you rewatched him gaze into the camera, you were almost 100% certain, there was no mistaking those eyes. Then he got up and the camera jolted and you paused the video. And there it was.

Not a figment of your imagination.

You almost felt as though your throat was going to close up. The black bicycle shaped handle, attached to a grey mug.

There were too many coincidences now for it to just be your imagination. Sam’s second job wasn’t in tele-sales or something like that.

He was a Camboy.

He was your Camboy.

You’d been getting off on watching your roommate - the roommate you might have a teensy crush on - well, getting off too.

Oh fuck.

Did he know you were subscribed? Is that why he made the comment? How were you going to look him in the eye now?

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍☕️🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

You managed to get out of the apartment without seeing Sam on Tuesday morning. You heard him go out for his run and threw yourself into gear, making sure you got ready and out, onto the bus at the local stop before he returned. Your colleagues knew something was up, even if your earlier than usual appearance in the office wasn’t a massive clue. They kept needling you but you weren’t talking.

You weren’t sure how you managed not to give yourself away when Helen and Sophie started talking about USFalcon’s latest stream when you all went out to get lunch.

“Well, he obviously enjoys doing it all. Just look at all the time and research he put into his outfit and staging.”

“I wonder if he has a partner and what they think about it.”

“If I was his girl, I’d find it hot and jump him as soon as he finished streaming.”

“I might even ask to join in!”

The pair fell about cackling, no longer noticing how reserved you were.

You spent the rest of the afternoon thinking. Sam was putting himself out there; he was doing this because he wanted to and in the expectation that he’d be seen. You weren’t doing anything wrong in enjoying the material that he was putting out into the public domain. You were a grown woman with a healthy libido and you had nothing to be ashamed of.

Was it awkward?

Okay, a bit. And now you knew it was him you weren’t going to watch again, cos that would just be weird, right?

You still managed to avoid him during the evening, not entirely on purpose. Your mom rang you to catch up and was in one of her chatty moods. The only time you saw Sam was when he knocked on your door to deliver your tub of chow mein. You smiled at him, too distracted by your mom telling you all the details of your second cousin’s latest job venture disaster to remember to act awkward as he passed you the white box, your chopsticks, and your Squishmallow mug full of tea.

You woke on Wednesday morning determined to act more normal with Sam. He was your friend and your roommate and didn’t deserve this cold shoulder treatment from you just because you’d discovered his secret. You greeted him at the door as usual as he came in from his run with your coffee and you were heading out to get your regular bus.

“Hey, Squish, didn’t really see you yesterday. You alright?”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I had a load of work on, and then my mom needed to tell me all the gossip from back home. Wanna eat tonight?”

“You cooking?”

He smiled at you, broad and bright, and your stomach flipped. The attraction you’d had for him, that you’d brushed off as just a healthy response to being so close to an attractive man, increased in magnitude. You ducked your head away, trying not to imagine hearing his moans close up, feeling his skin against yours.

“Um, yeah. Thinking something simple like steak and fries?”

“Sounds great. I’ll pick up a tub of ice cream on the way home from that place you like.”

“Thanks, Sam. I’ll see you later; gotta scoot for the bus.”

You were still somewhat reserved throughout your evening together. There were some awkward silences when you’d get lost in your thoughts, staring at him, or you’d get too close to him in the small space of the kitchen and just freeze, feeling the heat crawl up your cheeks.

After the meal, when you both went to eat your ice cream whilst sat on the sofa, you kept to your end, legs tucked up, instead of one of your lazy sprawls where you and Sam would end up with your legs tangled together, or you pressed up against his side, using him like a pillow.

Every so often you thought you caught him watching you, a small smile on his face. He couldn’t know you were one of his subscribers, because surely he would’ve mentioned it by now?

As it got late, you got up from the sofa and went to make yourself a bedtime drink. When you walked back past him, towards your bedroom, he reached out his hand and took hold of yours.

“You okay, Squish?”

He thumb rubbed over your knuckles, and he tipped his head back to look up at you from his seat on the couch.

God, why did he have to be so handsome?

“Yeah, um… just tired I guess. Got a lot on my mind.”

“You still up for movie night tomorrow? Thought we could get Indian for a change?”

“Sounds great, Sam. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Sweet dreams, Squishmallow.”

He slowly let go, almost as if he were reluctant to stop touching you, and as you made your way to your room you swore you could feel the prickle of his gaze on your back.

You bumped the front door closed with your hip, hands holding the carrier bag containing your feast. Meandering your way across the lounge, you placed the bags on the coffee table and started to unpack the various tubs.

“Sam! Can you get the plates and cutlery from the kitchen?” You shouted through to him, knowing he’d ducked into his room when he’d gotten home to get showered and changed.

“Sure thing, Squish.”

You yelped, standing up straight and spinning on the spot as his reply unexpectedly came from closer than you expected. A lot closer. In fact he was right behind you, or rather now, right in front of you. Your nose was almost touching the dip in his collarbone and you were suddenly aware of several things.

Firstly, his skin was still slightly damp from his shower, a few small droplets clinging to him. Secondly, you knew this because he was shirtless. You’d never been this close to him shirtless before, hence why you hadn’t recognised him in that first video, but still, there was no way this beautiful body could belong to anyone else. Thirdly, whatever shower gel he used had a scent in it that was doing things to you. You wanted to breathe him in, rub your face over his chest, scenting him like an animal. Then fourth, and finally, you were aware of the throbbing between your legs, the pulsing of your clit in time with your heartbeat.

“I… um… you…”

He took a step back, a coy smile forming on his lips.

“You alright? You look a bit….warm.”

He turned, going to get the bits from the kitchen, and you just gaped at his back like a fish. He had a pair of grey sweatpants on, hanging low on his hips, showing off his muscles and clinging to his ass. All you could see in your mind’s eye was him touching himself, his abs clenching, makeup smearing…

Get it together, woman.

You shook your head to snap yourself out of your thoughts and finished opening all the containers before withdrawing to your corner of the couch, feet tucked up under you. As Sam returned from the kitchen, he tapped against your knees with his hand.

“You can’t eat like that.”

You unfolded with a sigh and then started slightly when he sat down right next to you, his thigh pressed up against yours. He placed a plate in your lap and leant across to grab the first foil container, dishing out some of the fragrant food to you before placing the remainder on his plate. Next, he grabbed the remote, quickly flicking to the right streaming service with ease.

“I thought we could continue our appreciation of Brendan Fraser and watch George of the Jungle, whaddya think, Squishy?”

With a mouthful of fish pakora, all you could do was nod.

As you ate and watched the antics of fish out of water, George, you found yourself starting to relax, the awkwardness melting away. Full of food and plates abandoned to the coffee table, you didn’t really notice Sam putting his arm around your shoulder, pulling you to relax against him. When he laughed along with the film, you could feel the rumble in his chest under your head and your hand where they rested on him. As that awareness came to you, you also realised how smooth his skin was under your fingers and your cheek.

“Which outfit looks sexier? The billowy white shirt and black pants combo, or the leopard-skin loincloth?”

Sam’s question jerked you out of your reverie and you turned your head to look up at him. Which you quickly realised was a mistake. Your faces were close together, his eyes looking directly into yours.

“Um… I think an argument could be made for either. Cos you know, there’s um… something quite erotic about someone being partially covered, you’re… err… teased by what you can’t see. But then the loincloth, yeah, that’s also … umm… good.”

“Girl, are you just constantly horny on main?”

His teasing lightened the air of tension.

“You started it, Wilson!”

You poked him in the chest, and he tightened his arms around you, resting his head against yours. He shifted his body and you settled closer, allowing yourself the indulgence.

“Watch the film, Mallow-girl.”

You tried not to notice how his thumb brushed back and forth across your arm.

You weren’t going to watch. Nope. You’d only logged on so you could cancel your subscription.

Liar.

It was just a total coincidence that you hadn’t had time to do so until five minutes before his Friday night stream was due to start. Total coincidence.

Liar.

Maybe you’d just wait long enough for it to start and send him a last tip, then you’d unsubscribe.

Pants on fire.

Whatever remaining fragment of good intention you’d had went out of the window when the stream started. The background music was ambient jungle sounds, and when his body moved into shot you didn’t know whether to cuss him out or melt into a puddle, because now you knew why he’d asked you about George’s outfits last night.

Framed without his head in view, he wore a billowy white shirt and tight, black dress pants, that were already straining. He circled his hips as he slowly undid the buttons on the bottom half of the shirt. He ran his hands up and down his body and round his waist in an imitation of a lover's touch. The shirt fluttered to the floor as he continued to caress himself, teasing his nipples into stiffened peaks.

You couldn’t draw your eyes away now. You’d touched that chest, albeit innocently. You knew how warm his skin was, how soft, yet also firm, it felt.

His hips swayed from side to side as he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, quickly shoving them down his thighs to reveal a straining leopard print thong underneath. You felt like you were gonna have heart failure.

He turned sideways to the camera, bending back slightly, hips thrust forwards, as he drizzled oil over his pecs, and slowly started to oil up his body. His hand slid inside the thong, cupping and caressing himself, but then pulled back out without really revealing anything.

He then turned his back to the camera, and once again, swinging his hips, showed off his firm, high buttocks as his fingers slid under the thin waistband of the thong. He teased the camera by pulling it down slightly, then back up, before bending forward to show his back, shoulders and back of his head, and pulling the scrap of fabric down. Fuck, you wanted to eat his ass; it looked fucking delicious.

Turning back to the side, the oiled front of his body shining under the lights, he reached off screen, hand returning holding a masturbation sleeve. He must’ve already prepped it because he slid it over his cock with a moan, and started to thrust his hips up, fucking himself into the lubed, textured silicone. The sleeve was opaque, and you got a thrill from watching him move through it, the tip of his cock every so often making its way out of the end.

Sam USFalcon moaned and grunted as he jerked himself. You watched his hips snap, and imagined he was fucking up into you, that it wasn’t a sex toy wrapped around cock, but your pussy, clenching down on him and soaking him with your arousal.

You hadn’t even really registered what you were doing until you realised that your own orgasm was almost upon you, that you had one hand down your shorts and the other up your top.

The idea of watching him knowing who he was, gave you a thrill. Knowing that he was just a few feet down the corridor, working himself…

You cried out as you came, curses falling from your lips as you watched him reach his own peak, the snapping of his hips losing rhythm and that delicious restrained noise falling from his lips.

You were breathing hard as you watched him move off camera, the screen fading to black.

This is wrong.

The voice in your head nagged at you, and you knew you shouldn’t, couldn’t do this again.

You already had inappropriate feelings for your roommate, and there was something so voyeuristic about watching him like this that it made you feel like a Peeping Tom. Before you could change your mind, you reached out and pressed the unsubscribe button. You slid off your bed and into the bathroom, feeling so down, despite the post orgasm endorphins.

You washed your hands and splashed cold water onto your face and walked back through to your room. You’d barely sat back down on the bed before there was a loud thumping on your door.

“Squishy, open up. I gotta talk to you.”

Your heart plummeted.

“Go away, Sam, I’m not feeling good. Just wanna be left alone.”

“Open the goddamn door, MarshmallowSquishy99.”

Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.

So he did know. Time to face the music. You crossed the room, drew in a deep breath and straightened shoulders, before opening the door. Sam stood there, wearing a mid-thigh length red silk robe, haphazardly tied at the front. His eyes pinned you like a butterfly to a board.

“You really thought I wouldn’t recognise your username?”

“I didn’t know it was you when I first signed up. I saw a video when I was out with the girls drunk and signing up was a hungover, bad decision.”

He took a small step forward, making you instinctively step back further into your room.

“Such a bad idea that you watched my live stream on Monday and tipped me, twice.”

“It was only at the end I worked out it was you.”

He stepped closer again and raised an eyebrow, questioningly.

“You… you knocked your camera at the end, part of your mug, the one I bought you, ended up in frame for a split second.”

“And you noticed that? But you didn’t unsubscribe then did you? No, you decided to act odd all week, watch me when you thought I wasn’t looking, then watch this latest stream - which I did for you, by the way - and then unsubscribe. A little rude, don’t you think?”

“Rude? Now hang on a minute, I… what do you mean for me?”

The sound of the door closing made you realise that he’d backed you fully into your room. Your legs bumped into your bed, and you sat down on it, with a squeak.

“Well, baby, you inspired last week’s video, and when you signed up on Sunday night I couldn’t believe it. You made me want to get the one on Monday just right.”

He leant over you, hands on the mattress, each side of your hips, caging you in and making you lean back.

“The two tips made me think that you really liked it. So I decided that I would do tonight’s stream just for you, pick something you liked, then what do you do? Unsubscribe on me. Makes me feel a little unwanted, to tell you the truth.”

“It’s not like that, Sam. I meant to unsubscribe as soon as I realised it was you, and then I thought that was silly and… I didn’t mean to watch tonight, but it started and… “

He lifted a finger and dragged it down the side of your face, and you shivered under his touch.

“So you liked what you saw then? I’m glad. I like you, Squishy, and I’m hoping that, maybe, you like me too. We have fun together, and now you’ve seen me naked and kept watching, so it can’t be all bad.”

His voice was soft and low and thick with lust.

“Tell me, did you like what you saw? Did it turn you on? I imagined it was you with me so many times, and fuck, when I realised you were watching…”

His face was so close to yours, his voice hypnotic. Your eyes fluttered closed and your breath was ragged in your throat. His hand was resting on your shoulder, thumb stroking your neck.

“Come on, sweetheart, tell the truth now…”

Your voice came out, barely louder than a whisper.

“Yes..”

“That’s not a proper answer.”

“I liked it. Okay?”

“Did you touch yourself? Did you cum, watching me?”

His hand trailed down, off your shoulder, across your collarbone and down towards your breast.

Your back arched, pressing yourself up into his hand, and a whine escaped you. He pressed forwards, forcing you to lie down on the bed, his body covering yours. Your hands came up, fisting into the red silk.

“Sam…”

“Yes, Squish?”

“Shut the fuck up and just kiss me, please.”

“Whatever you want…”

His lips were soft on yours, so warm and gentle and right. Your hands slid under the silk, and ran over his skin, letting yourself explore everywhere you could reach.

His tongue begged entry to your mouth, and you granted it, sucking on the intruding muscle and scraping your teeth along it, enjoying the hiss he let out. You came out of your lust-addled stupor then, your desire turning passionate and primal.

Your hands fought briefly with the knot holding his robe closed before you pushed it over his shoulders, fully baring his body to you. You shimmied out of your shorts, and his hands pulled your top over your head. There were no words, just sounds of pleasure as you explored each other with mouths and lips and fingers.

You playfully tussled for dominance with him as you tried to kiss down his body towards his cock.

“I swear to god, Sam, I will end this here and now if you don’t let me do this…”

He laughed, taking hold of your hips and turning you around, before lifting you, settling your core over his face and diving right in. His cock twitched in front of your face, a rivulet of pre-cum running down it, as he took his first taste of you. It danced again as he heard you moan and felt you grind down on his face.

It took you a moment, but then you had his cock in hand and were licking the salty drop off the side of it. His moan vibrated into your pussy as you took him in your mouth, hot and silky and hard.

Sam deployed every trick, using his tongue and fingers on your sopping pussy until you had to abandon your own task, just letting his cock lie heavy in your mouth and muffling your cries as you came.

He gave you no respite, flipping you onto your back on the mattress and turning himself to align with you, lips pressed to yours, your fingers entwined as your hands lay up by your head.

“You need me to get a condom, Squish?”

His cock pressed up against your stomach, wet from saliva and pre-cum.

“No, please, Sam. ‘M on the pill, ‘n trust you.”

One of his hands left yours for a moment as he guided himself into you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, and his hand came back to yours, you foreheads pressed together as he slowly pushed inside you. Your breath stuttered out of your lungs as he filled you, a feeling just as right as that first kiss.

“You’re so perfect, baby. Fuck, feels so much better than I could imagine.”

“It’ll feel even better when you start to move, Wilson.”

“Oh, so this is how it’s gonna be? You gonna be bossy in bed?”

“Hey, I’ve been dreaming about this dicking down for a week. Can you blame me after you’ve been flaunting the goods?”

“Well I’m about to rock your world, baby girl. You’ve seen the moves, now get ready to feel them.” He punctuated his words with a couple of small thrusts of his hips and your muscles clenched down on him.

“Big words, Sammy, little action.”

He shut you up with a deep kiss, and then started to move. You clung onto his shoulders, nails digging into the muscles. Then Sam did something you didn’t expect; he made noises. Not the small grunts and moans from his videos, no, but loud, salacious sounds of pleasure, peppered with curses and praise.

“Fuck, baby, that’s it. Squeezing me so tight. I ain’t ever gonna leave this pussy, I swear.”

His hips snapped up, and you saw stars, the feeling almost overwhelming you. Carefully, he moved your legs, one at a time, up from his waist and onto his shoulders, almost folding you in two as he drove into your weeping hole.

“Oh God, Sam…yes, fuck, yes.”

“Touch yourself. Touch yourself for me; make yourself cum around this dick.”

He changed the angle of his hips, as you slid your hand down between your bodies. His cock grazed over that sensitive spot inside you, and you drew tight circles over your clit, causing your eyes to roll back in your head, your mouth slack, each of his thrusts punching a moan out of you.

Now there was just the sound of skin on skin and the sighs and groans that went with it. Sam kissed at your neck as you clung onto him with one hand, grounding yourself to him as you chased your pleasure.

“Come on baby. Come on; cum for me. Cum for me; fuck.”

“Sam, I… I… oh fuck. Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”

You crashed over the precipice, your body shaking under him. In response, Sam moaned into your neck, his hips snapping up a few more times before you felt him twitch inside you, filling you with his cum.

Somehow Sam managed to roll the pair of you so you were lying half on top of him, still joined for a while until your body let him go. He pressed kisses to your forehead and brow, stroking his hand up and down your back, both of you just enjoying the afterglow and being held by the other. Eventually, though, Sam broke the silence.

“Squish…”

“Mmmm.”

“We gotta clean up. I’m actually still a bit oily.”

“Like you oily…”

“Perv. And you gotta go to the bathroom. Whilst I very much like the idea of you leaking me through the night, the reality is never as pleasant. Also, we’re the wrong way round on the bed and it feels weird. Let’s wash up, and then, if it’s okay with you, I’ll come back here, okay?”

You turned yourself in his arms, cupping his cheek and kissing him sweetly.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍☕️🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

“Why aren’t they answering? We organised to meet them here at 10 and it’s already quarter past.”

“Have you still got your spare key? Open the door. What if there’s a problem?”

Steve huffed at Nat and dragged the key out of his pocket, opening the door to his old apartment.

“Guys, where are you?”

Nat strode through the living room into the quiet apartment. She stopped by Sam’s room, the door uncustomarily ajar and stuck her head in. She turned to Steve, grinning.

“He’s not in there and his equipment is all still out.”

The pair tip-toed down the hall to Steve’s old room, and pressed their ears to the door, making out the sounds of two people sleeping. Steve turned to look at Nat.

“Took them long enough. Do you think she found out or he told her?”

“Well I’m guessing she found out after her big-mouthed co-worker Helen discovered his page.”

“How did she find it?”

Nat smiled at Steve mischievously.

“Oh, you sweet summer child.”

Then she dragged him out of the apartment, shutting the door behind them.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍☕️🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @tinnedowl @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @beelicious-barnes @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @turbolisedcomet @goldylions

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

MU!Bucky

You’ll Always Have Me---- Coming Soon

Demon!Bucky

Guardian---- Coming Soon

Baby Deal-

Summery: Under the full moon on a bed of rose petals sat a beautiful woman. A woman so desperate she was willing to place an open call into the universe to get the only thing she wanted, a baby. And she was gonna have one at any cost.

Biker!Bucky

SugarPlum---- (Series) Coming Soon 

BFF!Bucky

Longing Hearts-

Summary: Y/n was rescued by Bucky when she was younger leading them to a beautiful friendship. But will the friendship evolve into something more with distance and time? Y/n is all grown up now and the boys are back from war. Will their longing hearts finally become one?

Hey guys, sorry I haven’t posted anything for a few weeks. Work has been crazy! 🫣 I have the next few days off so, in between cleaning up my messy house and other errands, I’m gonna do a writing binge.

Hopefully I’ll have some chapters and drabbles that I can post over the next week or so to keep you all entertained. 🤞🏻Now that work is easing up I should be making a schedule for story drops. Keep an eye out! 😘

Chapter 1

Summary: Y/n was rescued by Bucky when she was younger leading them to a beautiful friendship. But will the friendship evolve into something more with distance and time? Y/n is all grown up now and the boys are back from war. Will their longing hearts finally become one?

Warning: angst, eventual smut, talk of assault, fluff

Moving to Brooklyn seemed like a nightmare to you at the time, you were 8 years old and Texas was the only home you had ever known.

Growing up in your small town everyone knew everyone, and no one batted an eye at your chunky frame. You had just always been that way. But here, in the big city full of strangers, you could feel the judgemental stares and the hear the whispered criticisms. Never before had you felt insecure in your own skin, but New York had a way of making everyone feel out of place. And you absolutely hated it.

After a while a group of boys a few grades above you started to harass you on the way home from school. They were maybe 12 or 13yrs old, and would follow you around making rude comments about your weight and the clothes you wore.

This went on for years until you were 15, and the harassment took on a new tone. The stares became lecherous and the comments more sexual. You became very afraid, always kept pepper spray and your dads pocket knife on you just like he told you. The day came were one of the older boys tried to corner you into the wall and touch you.

He didn’t get very far, as you reached for the mace in you pocket you heard a deep voice growl out at the boys.

“You punks better back away from the dame.” You could see him over the assailant’s shoulder, blue eyes dark with rage and jaw tense. If looks could kill, the boy trying to pin you to the wall would be dead.

James “Bucky” Barnes, the guy every girl in Brooklyn wanted, and who could blame them? He was kind, charming and practically a white knight, he rescued girls all the time from creeps like these, and rescued his best friend too. Here he was standing in the alley about to fight 3 guys all on his own, and he didn’t even know who you were. At least you didn’t think so.

“Back off Barnes, this don’t concern you!” Sneered the boy in front of you.

“Well I think it does punk. Now back off the dame and leave.” Bucky’s eyes narrowed into a glare, fists clenched at his sides. You were baffled, he was really gonna do this, was gonna pick a fight, outnumbered, for a complete stranger.

Getting your whits together you tighten your hand on the mace in you pocket. You met Bucky’s eyes and gave him a look, glancing at the other 2 silent goons. You prayed he’d understand, and it looked like your prayers were answered when his eyes brightened with understanding and his lips lifted in a smirk.

Tapping your would be attacker on the shoulder you sprayed him in the eyes as soon as he turned to face you. Then you kneed him in the balls with all your strength, and shoved him back. His ass landed groaning on the asphalt in agony, while you could hear the pained moans and grunts from the other two near the alley entry. Glancing up you see Bucky with blood coming from his lip and the other two knocked out cold on the ground.

Bucky offered you his hand and guided you to safety, Penny’s dinner just a few blocks down. He stayed with you to make sure you were ok, helped you through the shock. You ended up staying the rest of the evening drinking milkshakes and eating burgers with both him and Steve. It was the start of a beautiful friendship.

Sadly, your boys went off to war, you had to watch Bucky leave first, followed by little Stevie, who wasn’t so little anymore. You spent 3 years writing your boys letters and praying that you’d get one back. You always did, some times they’d take months to get to you, but you’d get just as many as you’d send. Once you didn’t get a response for 6 months and all at once got 20 letters from each of them, responding to each and every question you had asked in detail.

Steve met a gal named Peggy, a pretty British thing that loved him for who he was on the inside, not his new muscles. You liked her already, and couldn’t wait until he brought her home. But this also worried you, if Steve could find someone over seas, then couldn’t Bucky? You kept you feeling locked away, but it was there and it was all consuming, you’d been in love with him since that day when you were 15. But you knew he couldn’t feel the same way, he was older, mature and could get any pretty girl he wanted. Why would he go for the young, thick girl who happened to be one of his best friends.

The day came when the war was over, we had one. Your boys were coming home. You got the news of their arrival and racesd home from work to change. You slipped into you summer dress with the roses and gold sandles, curled your hair and put on your favorite burgundy lipstick then raced to the airport to see your boys.

The tall mop of blonde hair was easy to spot first, and next to him the brunette who held your heart. Grinning so large, feeling as if your face would split open, you yelled for them.

“BUCKY! STEVIE!”

*Bucky*

Their heads whipped in your direction and their eyes grew big. Standing by the luggage carrousel was y/n, but not the y/n they left 3 years ago. No, this y/n was all grown up. Bucky’s heart practically stopped, she was gorgeous. All curves and legs, her hair was wild and her full lips were painted a deep burgundy. She was a vision, an angel after the hell of war.

Before he left for war he had a small crush on her, his delicate bunny. So sweet and pure, he vowed to protect her from everything that would ruin her, including himself. So he kept it locked away, was there for her as a friend. But after 3 years of nothing but letters and longing, he was so worried he would lose her to someone else, that she would meet some punk while he was gone and this faceless guy would take away his bunny.

He kept reminding himself the whole way home that Y/n is just a friend, that he had no claim to her and no right to be possessive. But the second he saw her he had trouble remembering how to breath, let alone why he shouldn’t have her. That she wasn’t his bunny, but damnit, yes she was. And he was gonna prove it!