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jtthompson · 3 months ago

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Yeah, that chuckle followed by, "Guess I found it," changed me at a molecular level. I am a changed being.

99% thank you and 1% first of all how dare you.

Unleashed - Avengers!Bucky/Fem!Reader

✦ Pairing: Avengers!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~4,2k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings/tags: Sex pollen adjacent kinda, smut, a bit fluffy, one shot, possessive!Bucky, co-workers/friends to lovers, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, orgasm denial, dirty talk, praise, creampie, pet names (doll).

✦ Summary: During a mission, Bucky is exposed to something that removes his inhibitions and all he wants is you.

✦ Note: Previously posted on AO3 since I have basically no time or energy to write new stuff. It was titled You’re what I need before but I always hated that title so I decided to re-name it. Bucky is kind of an asshole in this, but it's just because he wants you! As always, reblogs, comments, and asks are very welcome ❤️

Masterlist | AO3

The worst part about watching from afar as a mission goes to shit is that you feel useless. Even as you dispatch medics for the team all you can do is tell them, "Help is on the way."

Captain America shouts orders that you hear through the comms. The wait feels endless until the crew of the quinjet declares that they have spotted the team and there's not much else for you to do but look at your monitors and wait for an update. When you get the call back that the team is secure you breathe a sigh of relief, but then the next message is to prepare the medical staff to receive multiple injuries and chemical exposure. You ask the crew to clarify, but they are too busy, so when you notify the medical center, they prepare a quarantine room.

Sometimes you wish you had a superpower and could be there with them instead of staring at your monitors and doing endless calculations on whatever the team needs. But then when they return they always compliment your work and tell you they don’t know how they managed without you. You try to remind yourself of those moments at times like this.

Once the quinjet is docked and everyone has been accounted for you push away from your desk and remove your headset, taking deep breaths and trying to calm your heart. A moment later a message pops up on your screen, probably because they couldn’t reach you through your comms. [Bucky wants you to come down here]

Your heart does a little flip in your chest, making you scowl. He is your friend and probably injured, you have no idea why he would be asking for you, but it’s not because he feels the same way you do. You grab your tablet and head to the MedBay.

When you get down you take stock of the situation. Nat and Steve have some scratches, Sam's arm is broken and Wanda has a few cracked ribs. Tony is bruised, his suit had taken most of the damage. You look around for Bucky but don’t see him anywhere and quickly deduce that he must be the person currently in quarantine.

When you get to the wing, you’re almost too scared to go in, afraid to see what could have happened to him. Inside, you find a team of medical personnel discussing Bucky's condition with him through a glass wall. His hair looks damp and he's wearing standard-issue quarantine clothing, soft black pants, and a black sweatshirt. When he sees you standing patiently at the side he says. "You can come back later. I need to talk to her more than I need to talk to you. Go away." His voice comes from speakers in the ceiling.

You're shocked by his behavior but smile apologetically as the white coats pass you on their way out. When you get up to the glass you hiss. "Bucky, what is wrong with you, don't be rude.” "You make it sound like I'm never rude otherwise," he laughs. "You're not rude to healthcare professionals, you know better." You glare at him as you wake your tablet. “Now what did you need me for?”

"Do you like me?" he asks. Your mouth falls open and your heart starts to beat faster. You’re happy your vitals aren’t monitored as you quickly collect yourself and try to deflect his question. "Of course I like you Bucky, you're my friend." But now it feels weird to look at him and you find a spot on the wall far behind him to focus on.

"What if I want more than friends?" is his next question and despite your best efforts, hope warms your chest. This is not happening. Of course you toyed with the idea of you and Bucky, he is always sweet to you, and if he has the chance he brings you gifts from the missions. But you’ve told yourself repeatedly that he needs someone stronger, who can keep up with him in the field and you’re not that person.

"Can we have this conversation when you are not high on some HYDRA drug?” you ask, trying to keep your voice from betraying you. They are monitoring everything in the room. And there is a sheet of unbreakable glass in between you both. If you're going to confess your feelings, it won't be like this.

"I'm not high," he huffs. "My mind has never been clearer." "I still think we should have this conversation later." "Doll, look at me." The command in his voice is so strong you don’t think, you snap your eyes to his and they are so blue and soft.

"I will feel the same tomorrow, and the day after, whenever this drug wears off but now is the only time I can't hold my tongue," he explains. You place your hand on the glass and he does the same on the other side. "It will be fine Bucky, I promise," you say just as the door opens and Steve walks in, making you pull your hand back to your side. He's showered, in a fresh pair of clothes and he swings his arm over your shoulder.

"Stop hogging her time Bucky, I know for a fact that she also needs to debrief," he smiles but Bucky looks as if he's seeing red. Through gritted teeth he presses out, "Get your fucking arm off her, punk. She's mine."

You and Steve burst into laughter because it has to be a joke, but then Bucky punches the barrier with his vibranium arm. The glass doesn't crack but both you and Steve stop short and step away in shock. Steve removes his arm and says, "I'll meet you upstairs." Before quickly heading out.

You turn to Bucky and point at him, anger rising in your chest. "What is wrong with you? Steve is your friend!" "That is what it’s like in here every day,” he points to his head. You're taken aback by his statement and his wide feral eyes. Clearly, whatever he was exposed to had messed with his head and he's not himself. “Bucky I need to go,” you tell him, and before he can protest you continue. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smile feebly at him and are out the door before he can say anything else.

After debriefing and having dinner you go to bed early. Your head is spinning with the day and most of all, Bucky.

It's way past midnight when you wake to the soft closing of your door. Since you always sleep with a night light the soft warm glow reflects off his left arm and leaves no doubt about who has entered your room. You blink at him but before you can ask a question he rasps out, pleading. "I need you. So bad. Please doll, help me." He moves closer to your bed.

You quickly remove your covers and get up, glad the giant t-shirt covers you to your thighs, ready to spring into action. "Anything Bucky, what do you need?" You stop an arm's length from him, but all he does is reach his hand out to cup your face, letting his thumb stroke your cheek. There is a wild look in his eyes but you keep calm. "I can't get you what you need if you don't tell me," you whisper, meeting his eyes and watching as his brow furrows.

"I need you. Right now. If I don't get to touch and taste every inch of your body I'm going to lose my mind," he confesses in a low voice. His words shock you and you hitch a breath. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. You have this great friendship. If things were different you would not have minded taking it to another level, but with the day in mind and the fact that he somehow got out of his containment room you say, "Bucky, you’re not yourself, you need to get back to-”

"Doll,” he interrupts with a hard voice. “For once, I feel more like myself than I have in a long time. The only thing the drug did, I think, was remove my inhibitions. For once I feel free. My mind isn't controlled by HYDRA or by fear that you'll reject me. All I know is that I crave you and I can't be quiet about it anymore.”

"Bucky… I…" your whole body is flushed with warmth from his words and you're not sure how to respond. "I dreamt about you and couldn't stop myself from going over here. I don't want to hurt you, doll, but I'm not sure this drug will let me leave. All I wanna do is move closer to you.” You swallow hard as he continues, thumb still stroking your cheek. “Ask FRIDAY to get Steve, or the Hulk if you want me to leave."

Instead, you step into him, making up your mind in an instant and resting your hands on his chest. "Stay, I'll be glad to help you with anything you need," you whisper honestly and by the way his eyes widen there was still some doubt in his mind that you would reject him.

Instead of saying anything his vibranium hand grasps your waist and pulls you closer. There is no escaping the smell and size of him and his hands on you got your pussy throbbing for him already.

"I hope you understand what you've agreed to," he whispers, leaning closer. "Once I have you I won't stop, you'll never be rid of me. I'll claim you against every surface of this fucking compound if I need to." That makes you whimper and press harder against him. "Fuck you'd like that huh? Are you a kinky little thing? Like getting fucked where people can see you and hear you moan, do you want people to see my hard dick spread you open?" "Fuck Bucky!" You exclaim and lean your forehead against his chest. Maybe that idea excites you or maybe it is just that the word ‘claim’ sounds so primal.

"You're going to tell me all your little secrets later, doll. But now, I'm going to take what's mine." And with that, he crushes his lips to yours. He backs you towards the bed, kissing you the whole time, letting his hands explore you. When you land on your back, he stands over you with eyes like a predator about to devour its prey.

You shuffle up until your head rests on the pillows, spreading your legs for him. Without taking off any clothes he crawls after you, settling on his knees between your legs and placing his hands on the headboard, crowding you with his large frame. "Mine," he whispers and it makes a shudder pass through you. He ruts his clothed cock against your core, slicking your underwear even more and making you whine, gripping the sheets under you.

"Yes," he almost hisses as the length of his dick presses on your clit and forces a mewl out of you. It's been a long time since you've gotten laid. "Bucky," you plead. "No doll, I'm going to enjoy every fucking second of claiming you, from the outside in. Did you think this would be hard and fast and that I would be gone before you knew what happened?"

He lets go of the headboard to put his elbows beside your head instead, his weight on you, pressing you down into the mattress. "When I leave you will long for me, spend every waking second wishing I was still inside you. I want your cunt to be permanently drenched so I can fuck you whenever I please." He kisses you forcefully and any coherent thought that was left in your head flees. "And when you're too sore to take more of my dick in your pussy I'm going to do the same thing to your mouth and ass."

He rids you off your t-shirt and instead of having to move from between your legs to pull off your underwear, he rips them apart. "Ah!" you exclaim when the force of his movements jolts you but he takes no notice, he just stares at you, letting his hands roam up and down your sides, up to your tits, cupping them and caressing your nipples with his thumbs.

Whimpers are coming from you with every pass of this touch. Then he moves down and lays on his stomach, not saying a word as he sweeps his tongue over your pussy before he starts devouring you with a throaty moan.

It doesn’t take long for the first orgasm to take you, his movements are precise and his words and actions have made you hornier than you’ve ever experienced. Or maybe it's because he is the hottest person you’ve ever laid eyes on and he only wants you.

When you’re finished and sensitive he dips his tongue into your hole to taste you and groans loudly, lapping up the wetness from your orgasm. "Better than I've dreamed of," he says when he pulls away. Now you’re the one that must be high because you can't help but giggle. "You seriously dream of me?" "All the time, doll. Every night when I go to bed I wish you were with me and then you plague my sleep with your soft curves and radiant smile."

You're about to tell him how his laugh makes you warm and fuzzy on the inside but at that moment he sucks your clit into his mouth, cutting out every thought in your brain. He's gentle but not hesitant, it's as if he's feeling you out and when you make a particularly loud sound he continues the same movement, making your whole body go hot.

The second orgasm is intense enough to send aftershocks through for a long while afterward. Bucky lays his head on your thigh as you tremble, caressing your skin and letting the fingers of his right hand skim over your opening.

Despite what he's already given you, you still crave more. His fingertips never come close to where you need them and when you whine at the back of your throat Bucky smiles up at you. "Don't worry, I'm not even close to done with you, but I don't want you to pass out on me.” One of his fingers glides inside, making you take a sharp breath just because it feels so good. Once again he is careful, moving slowly, listening to your breath and your body.

"Please Bucky, I need more.” "No need to beg, I'll give you everything you want… in time," he breathes and kisses the skin on the inside of your thigh. Slowly he moves his finger in and out. You're sure it's a form of torture. The sweetest kind there is. Your breathing is labored and when he finally adds a second, you start to quiver.

He nips at your skin and then kisses it before speaking. "You look like a goddess, doll, eyes filled with lust, your skin is gleaming. I'm going to worship you until you're tired of me.” "Never gonna happen," you whimper. Then his thumb lands on your clit, making you cry out. Everything is so sensitive and overstimulated.

"I don't- Bucky, I don't think I can again," you tell him even though his touches are causing your insides to melt. "Yes, you will," his voice is soft but the command is clear. So instead of trying to speak again, you sink further into the madness that is him playing with you. The third one takes its sweet time but you never feel rushed or stressed that it's taking too long. Bucky isn’t in a hurry.

Then it’s suddenly there, crashing through you. "Fuck Bucky, fuck you're gonna make me come." "So good for me, let me feel you come on my fingers," he urges. "I'm going to lick them clean afterward so make sure you get them nice and wet for me. I want as much as you'll give me." The climax reaches its peak and you come with a cry of his name, body convulsing and your hand shooting down to tangle in his hair.

"Just like that doll," he smiles up at you and holds your gaze when he pulls out his fingers and sucks them clean, moaning while he does. It's a filthy sound, but it turns you on as if he didn't just make you come for the third time. Then he dives in between your legs again, licking at your skin and your soaked hole. Letting go of his hair all you can do is just lie there, writhing, as he somehow coaxes a fourth orgasm out of you.

“Fuck me,” you plead when he pulls back. “I need you inside me Bucky.” This time he takes pity on you and moves away to take off his clothes. When he’s naked he kneels between your legs again and you spread them as wide as you can. "Want me, doll?" he asks with a smirk. He swipes his cock through your mess and then uses his hand to coat himself with you. "Yes," is all you can say. Both you and Bucky stare as he pushes his dick into you, filling you up completely. Of course, he takes it torturously slow this time too.

"This feels better than any dream I've ever had," he whispers almost in awe. You grip his biceps and arch into him, pushing him deeper, faster. That makes him tsk but smiles at the same time as he pushes the rest of the way, finally seating himself. Without giving you a chance to relax he starts fucking you, his cock pushes perfectly against your insides, pulling sounds from you that you haven't made in years.

He sits back on his heels lifting your ass effortlessly until your weight is resting on your shoulders and neck. It's like he is in a trance, pulling you onto his cock over and over again. Your body is his, your mind has fled, and all you see and feel is just him all around you. His eyes keep changing between his dick filling your cunt, your bouncing tits, and your half-lit eyes as if he is not sure where to look. "Mine," he rasps and thrusts hard to empathize the word. "All mine. Say it."

It takes some time for your brain to connect to your mouth and form the words but his gaze never leaves you. "Yours," you whimper. "I'm yours, Bucky." There is a familiar heat low in your belly that's steadily spreading through your limbs. It makes you wiggle and move because it's overwhelming. He is overwhelming in the best sense. Whining you reach down to rub yourself but he slaps your hand away. "I thought I told you, it's mine. I own this cunt. If you wanna touch yourself you have to ask permission." It's as close to a growl as is humanly possible and you don't understand how he can be so cognizant right now, because your brain is like putty. "Can I please rub my clit Bucky, I wanna come on your cock so bad," you cry.

"Good girl," he praises, and when he calls you that, your mouth falls open with a keening sound, gripping the sheets even harder, pulling at them because you want to come so bad. "Do it, show me how you get off when you're alone in bed without me." Everything is slippery and sensitive when you start with your fingers and you immediately know it's going to go fast. With his previous words in mind, you ask. "Can I come?" He meets your eyes with a wicked smile. "Fast learner. Yeah, you can come… when I tell you."

You rip your hand away, afraid you might fall over the edge at any second. The sound out of your throat is almost a sob. "Don't be like that, doll, I thought you said you couldn't do it more times?" "I can-I can! As many times as you want just please let me come." "Fuck, I like it when you beg with my cock in you." But he doesn't say anything else, just continues fucking you. He's not even winded while you're straining your entire body. Your hand wants to move back, anything to relieve the pressure inside you but Bucky was very clear and you don’t want to disobey him.

Then he pulls out and drops you onto the bed, but you don't get to relax because he flips you onto your stomach and pushes one of your knees up to the side before he presses in. His dick hits your G-spot dead on and you scream into the pillow under you. Bucky chuckles right by your ear. "Guess I found it." He's merciless, his hips hit your ass hard and if it weren't for his weight pressing you down you would soon hit the headboard.

"Bucky!" you wail because it's too much. You're losing the last pieces of your mind to the sheer force of the pleasure and you're scared you're never going to be able to come back to yourself. Then his hand presses in between you and the mattress. "Rub yourself on my fingers, make yourself cum. Fuck my cock and come all over me doll." You brace yourself as best you can and move your hips as he keeps almost completely still, just shallow thrusts in stark comparison to what he was doing to you just moments ago.

His fingers slide along your clit, his cock brushing your G-spot over and over again. You're breathless, sweat breaking out along your skin, but the climax you're chasing will be well worth it. You just know it.

"I can't fill you up until I’ve felt you come around me," he grunts, his voice tight with holding back. You whimper, the feeling of fire flushing your whole body, and building up to an eruption like no other. "Yes, yes, yes," he chants low in your ear. "That's it, come for me, make me proud. Fuck it feels so good." And he starts moving again "I'm going to fill you fucking full of my cum. That's it!"

The heat in you breaks and you come with a shout of his name, shaking under him. It gets even more intense when Bucky finishes right behind you, groaning your name. He collapses on top of you but his hips are still moving, slowly, as if he doesn’t want it to ever end. Neither would you but your body is wrecked.

When he finally rolls off, you're so close to falling asleep, but he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. "Pee." He points and you want to tell him that you know the drill, this isn't your first time, but all that comes out is a grumble before he closes the door behind him and you sit down on the toilet.

When you're done, you stumble out and have a moment of panic, thinking he left. But then the door opens and Bucky returns with two bottles of water, handing you one before leading you to the bed and sitting you down on the edge. Gratefully you drink and lean against his shoulder before asking. "How do you feel?" "Better than I have in a long time," he answers, kissing your forehead. You chuckle. "Yeah I have a magical pussy, it can cure anything," you joke and it makes him laugh. "You should get back to quarantine," you comment. "Before anyone notices." He shakes his head. "No I'm staying here, I'm never leaving you again." He takes the bottle from your hand and places it on the bedside table together with his own. Then he crawls beneath the sheets and you go after him, letting him envelop you in a tight embrace before you fall asleep.

Alarms blare and you wake with a start. "FRIDAY what's going on?" you ask out into the room. “Sergeant Barnes has escaped his confinement.” The voice echoes through the room. You sigh and glare at Bucky grumbling beside you, like the loud signal is just a regular alarm clock. "FRIDAY please inform the team that Bucky is here and everything is fine."

A second later the sound dies and with a sigh you get up to pull on yesterday's discarded t-shirt and find a pair of pants. Right when you're done there is a knock on the door and Steve asks, "Everything okay in there?" You open the door enough to show yourself. "We're fine, he broke out during the night and came here." "Oh," Steve says and there is a hint of blush on his cheeks.

Then you feel a presence behind you and Bucky’s arm goes around your waist. "Mine," he says and you can't see him but he's probably glaring daggers at Steve who backs away. "We'll be okay, I'll alert FRIDAY if I need help," you tell Steve. When you close the door Bucky turns you before pushing you up against it and kissing you hard. "Mine," he mumbles against your lips. "Fucking caveman," you tell him. He grabs you around the waist and throws you over his shoulder. "I'll show you caveman," he says and carries you to the bed

#that moment!#when you read a line or 2 in a fic and have to pause #that fucking Paul Rudd meme gif #when he scrunches his face then goes okay im okay #or something similar- THAT.#that energy #will i survive this moment.......hm......hm??.....hm..#I will #then just keep on reading!#this was too good #why would you do this to mee PERSONALLY #I had a blast #fics #damn!#smut

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duckybarnes1917 · 2 years ago

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Forbidden Fruit (DBF! Bucky x F!Reader)

18+ ONLY.

Summary: Bucky knows he shouldn't want this, but he can't resist taking a bite.

Warnings: plot what plot? smut, age gap (undefined), unprotected sex, daddy kink, Bucky's dirty mouth. The only physical description is the reader having a small tattoo, if you don't have one, pretend it's fake.

Word count: 4900

A/N: NO ONE LOOK AT ME. I am that Paul Rudd meme. Who woulda thought?

Guilt. That’s what Bucky felt every time he looked at you. His neighbor’s daughter that he had only found out about two weeks ago. Everything had been going so well. His new house in the suburbs was shaping up nicely, thanks to Sam and Clint’s help. He had made the move to help himself find some inner peace. It was working; he slept better; he ate better, he even got a cat and started doing yoga every morning. He made friends with his neighbors. Ms. Rose was an elderly (though still technically younger than him) widow who lived across the street. She brought him muffins every Sunday morning. Mark and Angela lived to the left of him. They were newlyweds and spent most of their evenings in the backyard getting high and laughing at everything the other said. Bucky thought they were sweet. And to his right, that’s where your dad lived. A single man who appeared to be about the same age as Bucky. He did something in finance and had to take a train to the city every day. He was nice enough and since they were both alone in their big houses, they became friends. Shared beers and sports games, Bucky would come over to meet his work friends now and then. But all of this, all of Bucky’s hard work, washed down the drain the second he saw you running down his sidewalk.

He had just finished his morning yoga and was about to sit down for a nice muffin and some coffee when he heard a scream. He dashed to his front window and saw a big black dog charging down the sidewalk, it’s leash flopping along behind it. And then there was you, sweaty and bleeding, and chasing this beast like your life depended on it.

Bucky opened the door and called to the dog in German. It immediately stopped and dropped its head, slowly walking up Bucky’s driveway to sit at his feet.

“How—how did you do that?!” You huffed, your hand holding your side.

“This is Bert, he belongs to Greta a few houses down… he only understands German.”

You sent an annoyed glare toward Greta’s house. “Well, that would have been nice to know before I took him on a walk.”

Bucky chuckled, “dog sitter?”

“Not really. I’m just helping her out for a few weeks while I’m in town.”

Bucky deflated a bit. You were temporary. But even so, you were standing in his driveway with a nasty cut on your knee.

“I can fix that–if you want.”

You looked down as if you hadn’t realized you were bleeding and quickly nodded. “Please.”

“I’m James, but you can call me Bucky.”

When you introduced yourself as you walked past him into the house, your name tickled something in his brain. He wanted you.

“The bathroom is right around the corner.”

Bucky followed, keeping his distance, as not to breathe down your neck. And also to check you out. It had been a while–he had needs. That’s what he told himself as he struggled to tear his eyes away from the backs of your thighs.

You walked into the small bathroom and turned to him. The sudden hesitancy on your face made him take a step back.

“You can just show me where your first aid kit is…”

Bucky nodded and stepped into the bathroom with you; you stumbled back a bit when he knelt in front of the cabinet. “Here you go. Are you sure you don’t need a helping hand?”

Bucky remained on his knees, offering the first aid kit to you. But you didn’t take it. You stared into his impossibly blue eyes and squeaked out an intelligible answer.

“Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t quite catch that.” Bucky stood up to his full height and enjoyed the way your head tilted back to maintain eye contact with him.

“Help. Please.”

Bucky smiled and patted the counter. You understood and jumped up onto it.

“Let’s see here…” Bucky cradled your calf as he lifted your leg. He rested your foot on his thigh as he got to work on your bloodied knee.

It was just a scrape, but he took his time, enjoying the way the bend of your knee offered him a lovely view. He was so lost in looking at your legs in your short shorts he didn’t notice the way your demeanor had changed.

The look of desperation in his eyes bolstered your confidence. Yes, you had been nervous. He was hot, incredibly hot. And intense. His presence had overwhelmed you, made you so desperate for him you couldn’t think straight. But now–as you watched him unabashedly stare at the bit of white lace you knew he could see up your shorts–you knew you could take him.

As he reluctantly moved on to the scrape on your elbow, you admired his weathered face. He was talking about something, but you weren’t paying attention. You noticed the cute crinkles around his eyes when he laughed, though. The salt and pepper beard, the smoothness of his pink lips, and he smelled good too. Like sandalwood and something spicy. As your eyes moved lower, you noticed the bob of his adam’s apple as he spoke, the little freckles on his neck that you wanted to bite, and lower, the muscles under his shirt… and it was only then that you noticed his arm.

“Holy shit… you’re… you’re Bucky, Bucky?!”

Bucky straightened up, looking a little worried. “Is that a problem?”

“No! I just can’t believe I didn’t recognize you until now. Fuck, you’re even hotter in person.”

Bucky’s smirk made your cheeks blaze. You hadn’t intended for that thought to come out of your mouth. But he was moving to stand between your legs, his lips inching nearer, so you weren’t about to beat yourself up over it.

“So you’re saying you weren’t driving me crazy because you knew who I was? Just because you think I’m hot?”

“Driving you crazy?” You whispered, trying your best to remain still while his nose grazed over your cheek on its path to your ear.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what you’re doing to me, sweetheart.” His voice was gravel in your ear, a chill shooting down your spine. “Besides, I can smell you.”

“Fuck me,” you breathed out and his lips instantly attached to your pulse point.

“With pleasure, kitten.”

“That was–” you were trying to explain to him you hadn’t meant it literally, but his tongue was very distracting, as were his hands, which were sliding up your little shorts to grasp your ass. “Oh god, I don’t even know you.” Your hands tangled in his hair and you brought his lips to yours.

Just as a pathetic moan was leaving your throat, your ringtone blared through the bathroom, making you both jump.

“Sorry, sorry, just let me turn it off.” You scrambled for your phone, accidentally dropping it on the floor.

“Got it, sweetheart.” Bucky bent down to pick up your phone and froze when he saw the picture on the screen.

It was a photo of you and his friend, his neighbor… and the name on the phone said ‘dad.’

“This–he’s your–fuck.” Bucky handed you the phone and stalked out of the bathroom, nearly tripping over Bert, who had fallen asleep outside the door.

“Wait! I’m not answering it. Where are you going?!”

You scrambled after Bucky, trying to keep up with his long strides and not get distracted by the way his ass looked in his gray joggers.

“You gotta go,” Bucky said emotionlessly as he opened the front door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?”

“Fuck, how old are you?”

Your brows furrowed, confused at his sudden change in demeanor. “Old enough to fuck a stranger in their bathroom. What the fuck, Bucky?”

“I’m friends with your dad, okay? We can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

You stared at him dumbfounded for a moment, before shrugging and walking past him. “Your loss, Buck. Come on, Bert, let’s go. I have some energy to work off now.”

As you and Bert walked down the sidewalk toward the park, you felt Bucky’s eyes glued to you the entire way.

The guilt only lasted so long. The universe forbid you from him. Made you off limits. So fucking young. He should have never touched you. Not because it was wrong, but because now the feel of you had burned into his memory. It came to him every goddamn night when he tried to sleep. And every goddamn morning when he inevitably woke up hard from his increasingly filthy dreams.

Avoiding you proved to be impossible. As hard as Bucky tried, you were always just there. He tried to relax in his backyard and there you were, swimming lazily in your dad’s pool. When he tried to go to the park, you were laying in the sun or running laps. The day he was across the street, helping Ms. Rose in her garden, was when he realized you were fucking with him.

He was minding his own business, having a lovely conversation with his elderly neighbor, when suddenly you appeared in your dad’s driveway. A little white bikini top and cutoff denim shorts were the only thing you wore. Bucky swallowed hard. The beads of sweat running down his neck were no longer just from the scorching sun. He thought maybe you were going to lie out. But no, it was worse. So much worse. You walked to the side of the house and bent over as you turned on the water house.

“No,” Bucky whispered to himself, his eyes wide as he watched you spray the hood of your little sports car.

Ms. Rose was oblivious, talking even though Bucky was clearly not paying attention anymore. His eyes watched every move you made. He swore he was dreaming. There was no way you just squeezed your sponge over yourself, but you must have, because Bucky was watching the soapy water seep through your now sheer top, and trail down your legs. When you bent over on your tiptoes to cleanse the back window of your car, he knew he hadn’t imagined the flirty looks you had been giving him throughout the week. You still wanted him. And goddamn, he wanted you more than anything. Just as his cock was urging him to get up and go do something about the way you were displaying yourself for him, your dad pulled up in the driveway.

“Fucking shit,” Bucky muttered, spinning away from you and focusing on the garden he was supposed to be attending to.

What worried him now was the complete absence of guilt he felt. He should be ashamed. Horrified at his behavior and thoughts. But the more he tried to tell himself that you were forbidden fruit, the more he wanted to take a damn bite.

He stayed confined to his house for the next two days. Curtains shut to avoid the temptation of peeking into your backyard. Your dad–his friend, kept texting, asking him to hangout and Bucky felt horrible ignoring the messages. But he couldn’t do it, not until you were gone. He thought about going to visit Sam and Clint in the city for the next week, just until you went back to wherever you had come from. But that would be too pathetic. He just needed a distraction, something to help him stop thinking about your ass in those little shorts, the water dripping between your breasts…

Bucky’s ringtone brought him back to the present, and he yanked his hand out of his shorts, cursing himself for losing control yet again. It was your dad. He sighed, pulling his large hand down his face as he answered the phone, trying to sound as normal as possible.

“Buck! I was worried you wouldn’t answer!”

“Yeah, sorry, been busy.”

“Are you coming tonight?”

Bucky was silent, trying to remember what he could be referencing.

“The game is tonight; my daughter went out with some friends, so I invited the usual gang over. Thought you’d bring that beer we all like.”

Bucky’s heart sank a little at the news that you wouldn’t be there, but maybe that was a good thing. “Sure, sure, I’ll come over soon.”

Bucky hung up the phone and looked down at his lap… first a cold shower, then the party.

The night air was crisp, and cool as you wandered through your large backyard. You were still a little tipsy from the night out with your friends, but your vision was clear enough to spot Bucky leaning against the fence talking to some of your dad’s friends. He was a vision in his French blue t-shirt and pants; his beard was scruffy with spots of gray, his hair fluffy and just untamed enough to make you imagine your fingers in it. When he laughed, his nose scrunched, and his head tossed back just a little. Was he a god? Apollo himself, here to bring you the sun? You didn’t even realize your feet were carrying you in his direction until he caught your eye. The look of panic on his face made you stop where you were, a few feet away. He mumbled excuses and avoided your eye as he made a quick exit, heading for the gate on the side of the house.

Determined to get what you knew you both wanted, you took a deep breath for courage and chased after him, glad everyone appeared too drunk to pay attention to you.

Once in the dark shadows and hidden on the side of the house, you called his name. He froze, his hand on the gate, likely debating if he would run or answer your call.

“You’re being very rude, you know.”

He still didn’t move.

“Can I at least thank you for your help the other day?”

His shoulders tensed. “You weren’t supposed to be here.”

“Well, I am.”

Bucky turned around then, inhaling sharply as his eyes roved over you. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“Oh, but I have so many ways I could say thank you.”

He took a step closer, and you pressed your back against the brick of the house. Heat prickled over your skin as he advanced on you, nearly touching you now.

“Don’t you wanna hear your options?” You whispered, eyes flicking between his pretty lips and his even prettier eyes.

“We can’t,” Bucky swallowed.

“But I’ll be real good for you, I promise. Let you do whatever you want.”

“Christ,” Bucky muttered, inching even closer, his thigh slotting between your legs.

“Touch me,” you whispered, afraid you’d scare him away.

His fingers trailed up your thigh so lightly you barely felt them. Bucky stopped at the hem of your dress and you were about to complain when he pressed his hips against you, his prominent erection digging into your hip.

“Oh god, I wanna suck your cock so bad, daddy. Please, please let me.”

Bucky closed his eyes, just barely rutting against you. The veins in his neck were strained as he tried to remain in control.

“God dammit, we can’t. It’s wrong.”

“You keep saying that.” Your hands skimmed up his broad chest and over his shoulders. “I think it turns you on.”

Bucky shook his head, and you pulled him closer so you could whisper in his ear. “I think your cock gets hard every time you think about how you’re not supposed to fuck me.”

“You drive me fucking crazy,” Bucky breathed against your neck, his fingers digging into your thighs. “You’re all I think about. I want to ruin you, claim every piece of you with my fingers, and my tongue, god I wanna taste you so bad.”

“Please, daddy.”

His cock throbbed against you. “Stop, you gotta stop calling me that, kitten.” Bucky pushed away from you, still caging you in against the brick. “I’m serious. We can’t do this. I’m trying to be a decent guy here.”

You weren’t listening, and Bucky’s eyes trailed down your body to where your hand had slipped under your dress. Before he could say anything, you held two glistening fingers in his face, taunting.

“Just a taste.” You gently swiped your fingers over his plush bottom lip and his eyes went so dark you were almost afraid.

And then he was gone; disappearing so quickly that he was a blur in the night.

Bucky couldn’t breathe. He literally held his breath for as long as he could to avoid inhaling your sweet scent. He nearly broke his backdoor down trying to hurry and get inside.

“Fuck!” He shouted as finally got the door to open and he stumbled inside, drunk with lust.

His cock was so hard, he was already unbuttoning his pants and yanking the zipper down as he hurried through his kitchen. He just had to make it upstairs, but the temptation on his lips was too much, his clothes were suffocating, he need to fucking come. He braced himself on the wall by the stairs, his right hand quickly pulling his heavy cock out and pumping it with speed and efficiency. He was already so close; it was not a time for teasing. He got off on the smell of you on his lips, the feel of you pressed against him earlier that night, the dirty things you had promised–god he was an idiot, he could have you on your knees right now. He could hardly remember the last time he had a hot little mouth wrapped around him.

He cursed under his breath, fumbling for a tissue as his balls tightened and he swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, coming hard as the taste of you exploded in his mouth.

Bucky had reached his limit. He was done. Today was the day he was going to ruin you. He decided this as he watched you over his fence. You were lounging by your pool, completely nude, and posed to tease the fuck out of him. One leg was bent at the knee, blocking his view of your cunt. His eyes trailed up the length of your body, only to be disappointed that your book was blocking his view of your tits. But he zeroed in on the bit of side boob he could see, licking his lips as he imagined kissing the little heart tattoo he didn’t know you had there.

He cleared his throat, and you lifted your gaze to smile at him.

“Oh hello, looking for my dad?”

Bucky’s gaze darkened. “Over here. Now.”

You froze, and Bucky wondered if you really thought he could resist you forever.

“Now, kitten.”

You nodded, turning to grab your sundress before quickly making your way to his side of the fence.

“You didn’t need to bother with the dress.” Bucky grabbed the back of your neck and pulled your lips to his.

Finally.

Fucking finally.

His tongue invaded your mouth aggressively, making up for lost time. You gasped when he nipped at your bottom lip, his frustrations spilling out. He pulled back enough to look you in the eye, both of your breaths ragged.

You opened your mouth, probably to say something cocky. But Bucky silenced you by pushing softly but firmly on your shoulders. You dropped to your knees so fast that Bucky chuckled.

“Eager?”

You already had his fly open, your tongue pressed against the wet spot his cock had made in his underwear, and he shuddered.

“And you aren’t?”

“No teasing.”

You answered by pulling his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock. It was thick and curved, his pink tip begging to be sucked.

“Holy–fuck,” Bucky dragged out the last word, reaching for the fence for support as you took him into your throat.

It had been so long since he had experienced this. While he longed for your pussy, this was different… looking down at you on your knees for him–lips wrapped tight and your tongue moving so perfectly–he wouldn’t last.

He should have taken you inside. Now he had to be quiet, had to contain the moans and gasps he wanted to let out every time you took him deeper.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky groaned as your nose pressed against his pelvis. “Wanna fuck your face, sweetheart.”

You moaned, and his dick throbbed in tune with his rapid heartbeat. But as he wrapped his vibranium hand in your hair, prepping himself to come down your throat, your backdoor opened and shut loudly.

“Shit,” Bucky cursed as your dad stepped out onto the patio and waved at him. He nudged your shoulder, and you pulled back, keeping his tip in your mouth.

Bucky gave you a warning look as your dad approached the fence.

He should have known better. As soon as he started talking to your dad, trying to get rid of him, your hot mouth slid down his cock again, slowly, but it still made him stutter. You froze once your nose was pressed against him again, and Bucky breathed a sigh of relief, until you swallowed and he nearly groaned out loud. Somehow your dad was still clueless, rambling on about-well, Bucky didn’t know what he was talking about anymore. He bit his lip hard as your tongue lapped at his balls, the tip of his cock still in your throat. A curse slipped through his lips. He was sure he looked like he was in pain–he was about to come and you wouldn’t stop–he didn’t want you to stop.

Your dad frowned. “You, okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky choked out, annoyed now that you had completely pulled back, licking his tip teasingly. “Just playing with my kitten. She’s being a bad girl.”

Bucky smirked as you clenched your thighs together.

“But I think she just needs attention. I’ll see you later.”

With that, your dad finally left and as soon as he was safely inside your house, Bucky tucked himself back into his pants and squatted down to look you in the eye.

“What happened to being a good girl for daddy, huh?”

“Couldn’t help it.”

Bucky kissed you fiercely, before bringing you to your feet. “Inside.”

You didn’t hesitate, running to his backdoor as he slowly stalked behind you.

Bucky’s tongue held power. You were sure of it. It tortured, teased, and pleased all in one firm, wet swipe. And he did it for what seemed like hours. Not letting you go until you begged for a break. When he finally lifted his head from between your trembling thighs, you groaned at the sight. His handsome beard glistened with your arousal, and his blue eyes were dark with need. Your legs spread further for him and he smirked as he climbed over your body to reach your lips.

“Good girl; gonna take my cock, kitten?”

“Yes daddy, give it to me,” you nearly whined as you felt him press the tip against your entrance.

He was quiet as he slid in, but you could feel the tension in his shoulders. You gripped them tight as he split you open slowly, every throbbing vein rubbing you in just the right way.

“Oh god, you’re so big,” you whimpered once he was fully inside you.

His breath was ragged against your neck, and even your feet pressing into his firm ass wasn’t enough to get him to move yet.

“Please,” you begged, and finally he pulled out. Bucky fucked slow but deep, making sure you felt everything he gave you. Every drag was heaven, every thrust euphoria. His vibranium hand was cradling the back of your head, tangled in your hair, his other gripping your hip to keep you in place. You climbed quickly, but you needed more.

“Faster, please, I can take it.”

Bucky’s head dropped against yours for a second before he obliged. He moved his hand from your hair to the headboard, slowly building up the speed of his thrusts.

You could feel his control slipping, his thrusts felt more frantic, the muscles in his arms bulged, and his breaths grew even more ragged.

Yet you still needed more.

“Talk to me,” you finally whispered, almost embarrassed to ask.

Bucky froze, and you feared maybe you had ruined the moment. But then he gave you that ridiculously hot, lopsided smirk and pressed his lips to your ear.

“You want me to tell you how good you feel?”

You nodded, swallowing thickly as he resumed his pace.

“Want to hear how badly I wanna ignore your pleasure and fuck you hard and fast?”

“Yes!” You groaned, lifting your hips to urge him to move faster.

“Want me to tell you how I have to masturbate every fucking day thinking about your lips, your cunt, your ass?”

“You touch yourself, wishing your cock was up my ass?”

“Fuck yes.” Bucky sounded truly broken, and you lifted his head to see the desire in his eyes.

“Next time,” you managed to speak before his pace turned even more punishing.

“Gonna fuckin’ kill me. Tell me what else you like, sweetheart. Wanna feel you come.”

“Suck my tits, daddy, I’m so close.”

“With pleasure,” Bucky immediately moved his lips to the little tattoo on the side of your breast. Swiping his tongue over it a few times while his big hands squeezed your tits. His pace slowed slightly as he lost himself in worshiping your breasts. His tongue teased until you were nearly frantic with desire. With one last slow lick over your nipple, his warm mouth wrapped around it. Your back arched, and you came almost instantly, drawing a deep groan from him as he continued to suck hungrily.

You knew he had to be close. He was putting off his own release to draw more and more from you.

“Wanna ride you, daddy.”

He didn’t argue, flipping the two of you over so you were on top of him, your hands planted on his muscular chest.

You didn’t think he could get any better, but this angle made your eyes roll to the back of your head. Yeah, there would definitely be a next time, and a time after that. As many times as he’d allow.

His fingers gripped your hips hard, and you fluttered around him at the thought of the bruises he would leave behind.

“I’m close,” Bucky said, almost reluctantly. “Gotta stop.”

“Can’t,” you said breathlessly, moving your hips faster.

He groaned, arguing with you even as his hand moved from your hip to your breast and his hips jerked off the bed.

“Come inside me, daddy, need it.”

“Jesus fuck,” Bucky’s head dipped back. “You can’t–can’t say shit like that.”

“Why?” You questioned, leaning down to his ear. “Because you’re not supposed to be fucking me? Because you’re not supposed to want to fuck me?”

“Stop,” Bucky groaned, thrusting faster.

“Because you’re not supposed to have your fat cock balls deep in my little pussy?”

A strangled noise left Bucky’s throat, and he threw you onto your back. You were disappointed, expecting him to finish himself over your stomach, but before you could even pout his was back inside you. If you thought he was needy before, this was frantic. He hugged your body tight to his, his feet scrambled against the sheets, looking for purchase so he could fuck you deeper.

He couldn’t string together a sentence anymore, but you no longer needed him to tell you how good he felt. You could feel it with each throb of his cock deep inside you.

“Can’t stop–” he gasped, and you grabbed his ass, pushing him deeper.

A hungry, desperate sound left his mouth, and you knew you had him.

“Give it to me,” you whispered in his ear. “Fuck my little pussy, daddy, it’s yours.”

Bucky’s hand gripped your ass hard as he shoved his cock as deep as it would go. His teeth bit your neck as he came. You yelped at the pain, but tangled your hand in his hair to keep him there.

His thrusts became more frantic at first as he fucked himself through his orgasm, but eventually he slowed, the static in his brain clearing just enough to speak again. You were both keenly aware that he’s still coming, fucking you slowly as he does.

“Fuck, such a good girl, taking it so well.”

All you could was whimper, entirely spent.

“Shh, it’s okay. You did so well for me.” Bucky kissed you gently, distracting you from the loss of his cock.

“Should have done it sooner,” you mumbled, and Bucky nipped your bottom lip.

“I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart. Promise.”

You were about to give a sarcastic answer when he deliberately pressed himself against your hip and your eyes went wide.

Bucky nodded, a cocky smile on his lips.

You lifted your head, looking down to confirm with your own eyes before flopping down onto the bed. “God, you’re a fucking wet dream.”

“You’re one to talk, kitten. Now let me take care of you so you can be good and ready for that round two you promised.”

Bucky squeezed your ass before leaving the bed, leading you to the shower.

His guilt was no longer present, completely replaced by fiery lust.

#bucky barnes smut #dbf!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky smut #bucky x reader #mcu smut #fatws #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan smut #dilf bucky

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mickeyswhore · 1 year ago

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Condescending

Summary: Mickey is your boyfriend and he realises something about you and takes full advantage of it.

Mickey Altieri x Reader

Warnings: dumbification, Mickey is VERY patronising here, Clueless slander (I'm so sorry), just overall smut ig, overuse of the word bunny, let me know if I forgot anything else

Want me to make a Tag List? Here!

GIF by @coppoladelrey

Mickey loves to talk down at you, no matter what the subject is. But his favourite one is films,

he loves to talk about how your tastes in films is too common and how you need to learn more about it. You pretend that is simply a joke every time he does it, but the thing is that

you know he isn’t and the worst part it? You love it, you love every single insult he throws at you and it makes you wet just thinking about it.

You loved Clueless, so you wanted to watch it tonight. You and Mickey are currently in his dorm room by yourselves, Derek went on a date with Sidney. Mickey had a serious problem in picking apart your taste in films and he wasn’t subtle about it, it came to a point where you hid your favourite films from him and only watching his “classic” films.

“Come on, bunny. This film is incredibly subpar, Paul Rudd was alright but other than just a convoluted plot that is kinda creepy.” Mickey still didn't let you put the tape on, he grabbed it from your hands and was keeping it away from you. “Underage girl that falls in love with her older step brother? You should know better than that, I can’t handle this. It’s kinda stupid coming from you.” He had his free hand on your thigh and he was looking at you with his head tilted forward, a low key Kubrick stare.

“I just want a good feel film that is pretty, alright?” You took a deep breath and looked at him, Mickey had huge grin on his face.

“Of course you do, you need to turn off your brain don’t you? Thinking is too hard for you, isn’t bunny? You need me to make all of the decisions for you, right?” Suddenly Mickey was behind you and he was pulling your dress and he pulled your panties to the side and he felt how wet you were. “You love when I talk to you like this, right? You love when I think for you, right bunny?” You nodded and Mickey laughed. “Oh, bunny you’re so fucking wet.” He inserted a finger in your cunt and you moaned putting your head on his shoulder, you opened your legs even further.

“Look at you, you can’t even reply to me. I only need my fingers to fuck you dumb, imagine how dumb I’m gonna make you after I pound your tight little pussy with my big fat cock.” He whishpered in your ear and you whimpered. “Oh, bunny.” He laughed condescendingly, and added a second finger and his thumb started making circles on your clit, you started moaning even loude, you tried to close your legs but Mickey didn't allow that. “Come on, bunny…you can take it.” His other arm grabbed your leg and kept it open, he picked up the rhythm and fingered you even harder.

Mickey could feel you clenching around his fingers, he looked at the mirror that Derek had on the dorm and he had full view of your cunt. “Come on bunny, cum all over my fingers.” The noises were so loud and as if it was on cue, you came hard. Mickey helped you ride out your orgasm, he slowly removed his fingers and put them on his mouth. “So tasty, bunny.” He hummed, after that he got on his knees and you felt his tongue on your clit and you moaned.

“Mickey, please…too much.” You groaned but he didn't stop, he kept eating you out and your hands went straight to his hair and Mickey pulled you closer with his arms around your hips, he was feasting on your pussy.

“You can take it, bunny. Cum on my tongue for me.” His ministrations were quick and he was watching you fall apart, your back was arching, your breath was shallow and Mickey was loving every second of it. He grazed your clit with his teeth and that made you jump but Mickey kept you in place. “You look so cute like this, bunny. Completely on my mercy, you look so fucking hot.”

Your pussy was clenching over nothing, and you could tell that another orgasm was approaching. You were pulling Mickey’s hair and he groans, he loves when you do that. You came again, and Mickey didn't waste any time and started slurping on your pussy and he never stops looking at you, while you can’t keep eye contact. After riding out your orgasm again, Mickey gets up and you see his huge cock hard on his trousers, it looked like it hurt.

“Can I suck your cock, Mickey? Please?” Your mouth was watering looking at the outline of his cock, and Mickey laughed.

“You’re so cock drunk, aren’t you bunny? Come here.” He started removing his trousers and his cock sprung free and you quickly put his cock in your mouth and Mickey loved to see you so desperate for his cock. “Just like that, bunny.” You hollowed your cheeks and started sucking his cock, Mickey started groaning, your mouth felt like heaven, he held your hair in a makeshift ponytail and he started fucking your throat.

Tears were started falling and Mickey wiped it with his thumb, you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second. “Keep your eyes on me, bunny.” You readily obey and kept your eyes on him, he looked so hot with his mouth in an o shape and messy hair. Mickey threw his head back and started fucking your throat in with a reckless abandon again. “Fuck, bunny your mouth feels like heaven. FUCK.” Mickey felt that he was going to cum, and he only cums deep inside your pussy so he pulled your head away from his cock, as soon as you lost contact with his cock you started pouting and Mickey laughed.

“Sorry, bunny but you know that I only cum on your tight little pussy.” Mickey pulled you and started kissing you. “I want you on all fours, bunny.” You quickly got on your hands and knees, Mickey slapped your ass and you moaned at the sensation.

He rubbed the head of his cock on your clit before thrusting inside your cunt and you screamed and moaned, his cock always streched you out no matter how many times Mickey fucked you it always streched you out so well. Mickey grabbed your hips and started fucking you hard, you grabbed the sheets and bit your lip and he saw that and did not like it. “Don’t you dare hide those noises from me, bunny.” A needy whine and moan escaped you and Mickey growled, his thrusts were getting faster, he grabbed your hair pulled you closer, your back touching his chest.

“Look at how dumb you get when I’m fucking you, bunny.” Mickey pointed at the mirror and you saw how disheveled you looked with your mouth open panting and moaning. “I know how much you love being my dumb slut, bunny.” You whined at his words and you clenched around his cock. “See, I can feel your tight little pussy clenching around me. You always think too much, bunny. And I love fucking you stupid, you need it, you crave it don’t you bunny?” You whined again and nodded your head, unable you speak and Mickey loved every second of it.

“Need to cum, Mickey.” He knew exactly what that meant, but he loved to see how desperate you to cum.

“You want me to play with your little clit, bunny?” You nodded desperately, Mickey’s thrusts never faltered and it was too much but at the same time not enough. “I know you’re gonna cum all over my cock as soon as I start playing with you little clit.” Mickey started rubbing hard circles on your clit and watched you scream and moan through the mirror.

“Mickey.” You screamed and started squeezing his cock cumming all over it, Mickey’s hand went on your throat, not squeezing it but as a sign of ownership. After he helped you ride out your orgasm, Mickey started chasing his own, you choked on your own throat and you were starting to get exhausted.

“Bunny, look at you…you were made to be mine, you were made to be fucked. You’re too dumb to think on your own, you don’t need to think about anything, you just need my cock slipping you open.” You felt his thrusts getting sloppier and he was grunting and moaning.

You felt the thick ropes of cum inside you, that’s when Mickey stopped and you felt his cock pulsating inside you still. He finally disconnected from you and Mickey grabbed some wet wipes and started wiping the cum off of you, you hissed at the cold wipes on your abused pussy but after a moment it felt good.

“Are you alright, bunny?” Mickey your head and looked at you with nothing but devotion and love in his eyes.

“Yeah.” You nodded smiling at him and he kissed you, it was slow and passionate unlike a few moments before.

“Aren’t you such a good girl?” You got hot over the praise and you hid on his chest, you were starting to get tired so you yawned and Mickey knew that you gone for the night.

“I love you so much, Mickey.” You confessed already closing your eyes.

“I love you too, bunny. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He kissed your forehead again and sleep overtook you quickly.

After a few minutes, Mickey got up from his bed and started to get ready. He got his mask and voice modulator ready, it wouldn’t take too long he only needed to kill one person tonight and it was on campus. Whilst Mickey got ready, he observed you sleeping and he wasn’t ready to fall in love with you but you took him by surprise by warming your way into his heart.

Mickey was going to talk with Mrs. Loomis, he doesn’t want to get caught anymore, he wants a life with you. And after finishing killing he went straight to his dorm and you were still sleeping peacefully, and he didn't break his promise, he was there when you woke up.

#mickey altieri x reader #mickey altieri #mickey altieri smut #mickey altieri x you #scream 2 #slasher fanfiction #mickey altieri imagine

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tieronecrush · 1 year ago

Text

꒰ა ONLY ANGEL ໒꒱

javier peña x f!reader

chapter two: lips of an angel

series masterlist

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: After his return to the US, Javier is trying to settle back into a normal life without the pressures of Colombia and the DEA, but he finds himself feeling isolated with no one to spend his nights with. Now a newly appointed criminology professor at Texas A&M, he is drawn to you, a post-grad student in one of his classes. You’re intelligent and witty, sweet and kind, and he can’t get you out of his mind. To cope with his growing loneliness and to rid himself of thoughts of you, he signs up for an “arrangement service” to connect him with somebody—a sugar baby—he can care for. After he is matched up with Angel, he finds himself developing feelings quicker than he ever expected, but what happens when he finds out Angel is really you?

series warnings: power imbalance (prof and student), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, discussion of money, criminal activity, judicial systems, graduate school, smut, daddy/papí kink, praise kink, degradation, self deprecation, discussion of self worth, multiple sexual or romantic partners, sex work, cursing, use of spanish, likely more warning so read at your own risk!

word count: 5.1k

a/n: thank you @northernbluess for beta-ing this series for me <333 love you bestie, the only one i'd wanna be a sister wife with

To: TheOnlyAngel

Subject: Nice To Meet You?

Hey,

I got an email that we were matched for Sweet Temptations. I figured I would reach out and introduce myself, maybe get to know you a bit if you are alright with that.

Feel free to call me Javi. I am honestly not sure what else I’m meant to do in an introduction like this. I promise I am normally much smoother than this, or at least more human and less awkward.

It’s nice to meet you, and to be matched up with you, Angel. If that’s what I should call you?

From: TheOnlyAngel

Subject: Re: Nice To Meet You?

Hi Javi!

It’s nice to meet you too, and hopefully, we get to meet in person. These first emails are always awkward no matter how many I’ve sent or received, so please be assured that, honestly, that was one of the better ones I’ve gotten. :)

I normally like to ask what you’re looking for out of this “arrangement” (I hate calling it that, it sounds so impersonal) and maybe you can tell me some fun facts about you if you want to share!

I can go first for the fun facts:

Green is my favorite color

I unironically love the song MMMBop by Hansen (which is unexpected if you saw the rest of my tape and CD collection)

My current favorite movie is Romeo + Juliet that came out a couple of years ago cause Paul Rudd <3

That’s about all that I can think of as I sit in bed and type this so hopefully that is sufficient enough!

TTYL Javi,

Angel

To: TheOnlyAngel

Subject: Re: Re: Nice To Meet You?

Hey Angel

Paul Rudd is pretty likable, I’ll give you that. Is he your type? Cause I hate to break it to you sweetheart but I don’t really look like him. Both have dark hair but that’s about where the similarities stop. And Romeo + Juliet huh? Must be a bit of a romantic.

And MMMBop…it is catchy. I have to stop myself humming it at work these days.

As for what I’m looking for, I guess I just want someone to spend some time with. Whatever comes of it, comes of it, but I don’t want to really have any expectations. Just wanna get to know you, Angel.

Took me a while to think of some fun facts:

I grew up on a cattle ranch right on the border of Mexico in Southern Texas

When I was little (like 9/10 years old) my primos dared me to enter a rodeo for Mutton Busting (chasing a sheep around to try to catch it)

A CD of Selena stays in my car at all times, and yes, I know all the words

Hope those were fun enough for you, Angel.

And I hope you have a good day today.

The emails continued for about a week and a half, Javier slowly became more comfortable with the virtual communications. Angel was bubbly, and sweet, always asking him questions and always interested in hearing about his day or what his favorite book was. It was either his loneliness or a newfound desperation that had his heart skipping when the sound of new mail pinged from his desktop.

It felt a bit strange to have such normal exchanges with Angel and be reminded of the circumstances with his bank statement for the charges that the service takes monthly. With how personable Angel has been even via email, he finds himself forgetting what exactly brought them together. Maybe all the mystery and excitement will wear off when the two of you meet, but something deep in his gut is telling him that isn’t going to happen.

He drags himself away from his desk, no response from Angel yet today. All he can think about is how he hopes there’s a new message when he comes back, gathering his things to head to the lecture hall for the third week of Sociology of Deviance.

In the beginning, he thought this class was going to be a chore to do. Stuck onto his schedule last minute, had new material to cover, and had an annoying Dean of Faculty checking in on him much more often because of it. However, a handful of sessions in, he’s got a bit of a skip in his step to rush over there, the familiar jump in his stomach when he thinks about you.

The pretty fall floral dresses you’ve started wearing with the change in weather, large cardigans pulled over the top. You’ve worn a few flannels over your shoulders, clearly oversized and he feels a prick of jealousy whenever he sees you in them.

Do you have a boyfriend? Are those shirts his?

What would you look like in one of his button-downs?

Christ, the thoughts won’t stop no matter how hard he tries. Another reason why he is attempting to completely throw himself into this new “arrangement”, hoping it would be a means to an end to his crush on his student.

That’s what it is. He has a fucking crush.

He hasn’t had a crush in years.

Laying everything out for the class session, he starts writing the discussion points on the board. At the sound of the door violently swinging open and a rumble of loud footsteps rushing, he looks over his shoulder to see you, belongings in your arms and clearly flustered. His jaw drops open to ask if you’re alright, making a burning flash of eye contact with you before you drop your head, embarrassed, and find your seat.

Turning back to the chalkboard, he shakes his head minutely, rolling his shoulders before continuing his writing, white powder from the chalk coating his fingers. Instead of his normal thoughts of you, he keeps fighting the urge to ask if you’re okay. In the short time he’s known you if you could even say that about your dynamic, he knows it’s very unusual for you to come in that incomposed. He wipes the residue off on his pants, facing the class.

While he teaches, his eyes continue to wander to you, oddly quiet when you would normally be engaged in the discussion. That kid Alex, obnoxious from the jump, is taking up far too much air time in this class, and Javier can’t help the annoyance on his face as he leans back against the desk, arms crossed over his chest as he waits for this kid to finish his long-winded, and incorrect answer.

You scoff audibly at a point that Alex made, piquing Javier’s attention. The two of you make eye contact again, and Javier suddenly unravels one arm from his chest, holding it up toward Alex.

“Excuse me, Alex, I respect your points but I think there might be some counters to your arguments. I want to be able to hear them before we move on,” Javier calls out your name, and his head snaps to you, nodding encouragingly, “What were your thoughts?”

“Oh, um, I was going to say that I don’t think that socioeconomic or social standing is the only explanation for the makeup of the prison system. And I think it’s pretty naive to think that it’s only rich people that get off with less severe punishments.” Javier watches your shoulders tense a bit at the obvious eye roll from Alex, the pen in between your fingers bouncing with nerves.

“Do you mind expanding on that? I’m interested in what you think is another reason,” Javier holds eye contact with you, the slightest smile on his face to reassure you to stand your ground in the argument.

“I mean, to me, It’s pretty obvious that the biggest reason is racial discrimination in the legal process. White people dominate the political landscape and the prejudices, even unconscious bias, contribute to the makeup of the incarcerated population. Judges will give favorable or less severe punishments to white defendants, and of course, class biases are a thing, especially because of the cost of criminal defense, but I think the overt, umbrella reason is racial discrimination in the legal process. It’s built into the systems of government, which is pretty depressing…”

You trail off and laugh awkwardly at the silence in the room, some classmates nodding in agreement while some are unphased, uninterested.

“That’s good. That’s exactly what I was hoping would be brought up by someone,” Javier nods to you, pointing in your direction before he rounds the desk to start writing on the board for students to take down in their notes.

In your seat, you start to copy down into your notebook, glancing up to see him look over his shoulder at you. One corner of his mouth lifts, a smile in his eyes as you try to bite back your own grin that threatens to expose how much you enjoyed his short praises.

From: TheOnlyAngel

Subject: Wanna Meet Up?

Hiiii Javi

I’ve had such a shitty day today, but honestly, I was still excited to be able to come home and talk to you. :)

Do you think you’d be interested in meeting in person this weekend? I’m free Saturday night if you are. LMK!

Hope your day was better than mine!

xoxo,

Angel

Plans were made to meet Saturday night around eight o’clock. Javier had chosen a bar he’d become familiar with on those nights when he couldn’t sleep, when the memories of Colombia were too much when he couldn’t stop thinking about those damn boats that were in his backyard.

The place is small, intimate, and quiet enough to hold a conversation — which he knew from the one or two times he’d picked up someone and brought them back to his apartment. There was always some sort of live music, usually some jazz or folksy blues, that could fill any first-date awkward silences.

In his last email to her, Javier told Angel that he’d be in the back of the bar, at a table for two, wearing jeans and a red short-sleeve button-up shirt. He makes sure to arrive first, getting there a bit overly early at 7:30 to snag a table and order himself a drink to calm his nerves. Pounding the glass back on the bar top, he orders another whiskey neat to nurse until she arrives.

This is a different feeling than he’s had before a date. Nerves aren’t normally his thing when it comes to women, but something about this night feels higher stakes than before.

Get it together, Javi. It’s a date, if it goes horribly, you don’t have to do it again. Plus, she doesn’t even need to be interested in you, this is her job.

When you arrive at the tiny, hole-in-the-wall bar, you nod thanks to the man holding the door for you, rolling your eyes when you get a comment from him that you didn’t ask for.

“Nice tits, sweetheart.” He slurs and sends you a wink that is definitely more of a blink. You slip past him without issue, scanning the small area for the man with dark hair and a red shirt on. At this point, with how many times you’ve done this, you’re normally not nervous to meet these men in person. It’s something you’re obligated to do, like showing up for any other job, and that’s how you treat it.

But this time around, something’s different. Talking with Javier has actually been….nice? He’s responsive and wants to get to know you, never taking more than a day to get back to you. He’s asked you more questions about yourself than anyone else has before and he always, always wants to hear about your day. If you weren’t careful, you could see yourself getting attached.

Well, getting attached if he’s anything like you’ve imagined him. Or who you’ve imagined him to be.

The only red shirt you can spot is on a man sitting at a table toward the back, facing away from the door and toward the stage in the corner where a jazz trio is playing a low, crooning song. Biting back a smile, you start to make your way over to him, admiring him from behind.

It’s broad shoulders and a strong neck, muscles flexing as he adjusts in his seat. His dark, chocolatey hair is combed nicely, so much so that you can’t help but have the thought of running your fingers through it and messing it up.

Dressed in a black dress with blotted red lips, you weave in between people, ignoring anyone else as you keep your eyes on the man you’re here to meet. Javi stays facing forward, watching the band play even as you stand behind him, cheated to his side a bit. Holding your breath, you lean closer and tap him on his shoulder.

“Um, excuse me, Javi?”

At the sound of his name, Javier turns over his shoulder to his right, a smile on his face already from the honeyed kindness in her voice. She did really sound like an angel for a second there before he realized where the sound was coming from.

“Yeah, I’m Ja—“ The sound stops in his throat when he is facing you. Your supple lips with the dainty Cupid’s bow, rouged cheeks, and gentle smile; normally in a nice dress or cardigan in class, but here you’re wearing much less material, more of your skin on display.

What would it be like to kiss it?

No. That is not ever going to happen.

Those doe eyes hold an innate tenderness that he couldn’t imagine ever being privy to, but here he was, under the stare of those and it was making him sweat. He can only imagine what he looks like to you at the moment, eyes wide and mouth blubbering to speak like a fish gasping for air.

You recognized him at the same time, biting the inside of your cheek to hold back the word vomit threatening to come out. If it did, you know you would end up spilling how honestly excited you are that the man you’ve been emailing with has turned out to be Professor Peña. You’ve harbored a bit of a crush on him for the last few weeks, ever since that smile he gave you when you introduced yourself after the first session. It had been burning moments of eye contact, and those gentle encouragements from him.

Hell, after class this week when he praised your counterarguments, you thought about his voice saying “That’s good” over and over while you laid in your bed that night, coming with the image of him over you in record time.

The first word out of his mouth is your name, tone flicked up at the end in a question. He grumbles to himself as he moves to stand up, forgetting his drink on the table.

“Fuck, this is bad…” He whispers under his breath, shaking his head at himself as he runs his hands on the sides of his jeans. “I’m so sorry.”

He steps back to further the distance between you two, awkwardly avoiding your eyes as he attempts to recover his professionalism.

“It’s alr—“

“I had no idea it was you. This is completely inappropriate, I apologize. I should leave, uh, and I completely understand if you need to change out of my class. I know it’s past the cut-off date, but I would help if you needed—”

“Javi — can I call you that?” He considers it for a moment before nodding, rigidity evident in his body, “Javi, it’s alright. You don’t need to apologize, neither of us knew before this moment…But I do have to say, I wouldn’t tell.”

“Uh, I’m sorry — what?”

“I wouldn’t say anything. If you wanted to sit down and have a drink, or a few, and get to know each other like we planned to, I wouldn’t say a word. Even if you weren’t interested after this, I promise, the secret’s safe with me.”

Javier can’t deny how much he was looking forward to meeting the woman he was emailing with. And he can’t deny that he’s had his eyes on you since that first meeting. Hell, he can barely control his thoughts around you.

Of course, it had to be you. The two people he can’t get out of his head have turned out to be only one person, and of course, it’s you.

“If it informs your decision, I would love to get to know you more, Javi.”

He stutters through his thoughts out loud before resigning with a sigh, taking a breath as he forms his response, “Only if you’re comfortable with it.”

“Definitely. Wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise. Now, may I join you?” You gesture to the empty chair and Javi nods quickly.

“Yeah, of course. Here, let me get that.” He visibly relaxes a bit, falling into a routine he knows well. Rounding the small table, he pulls your chair out for you before settling in the seat opposite. Shortly after, a server comes around and takes your drink orders, Javier looking to you to go first. After the order is placed, the server leaves the two of you in silence at the table.

Another beat passes before Javier speaks, saying what you both are thinking, “Sorry, I just, cannot believe it happened to be you.”

“Why’s that?” You ask with a lilt of humor in your voice, sitting up in the chair to move toward him, “Don’t think I would be into all this?”

“Yeah, I guess so, but—Actually I should not say what I was about to say,” he chuckles and shakes his head.

“Oh, c’mon, what were you gonna say?”

“Nope, definitely not going to tell you, sweetheart,” he smirks at you and then adjusts in his seat awkwardly, “Oh, ‘m sorry, I shouldn’t have sa—“

“Javi. It’s fine, just relax. You’re not making me uncomfortable at all if that’s what you’re worried about,” you give him a sincere smile, reaching across to hold his arm that’s lying on the table, “It’s actually kind of nice to have those nicknames coming from you and not some other creepy men who contact me.”

“Why’s that?” He echoes your question from moments before, eyebrows raising in curiosity and the same smirk growing on his face, glancing down at your hand on him.

“I shouldn’t say what I was about to say,” you attempt to imitate his voice, laughing at the end when he gives you a look that says ‘Really?’.

“I don’t sound like that, cariño. But that’s a good try. Now what is it that makes me nicer than the other men you’ve seen?”

‘That’s a good try.’ This man.

“And how do you know that? I could be nailing what you sound like to other people. You hear your voice differently.” You poke his arm pointedly, moving your hand toward your lap again. Before it leaves the table, Javier stretches his arm across, catching your fingers with his. He holds them loosely in his, running his thumb across your knuckles as he keeps eye contact with you.

“I’ve heard my voice enough in press conferences that were televised, angel. I don’t sound like that,” he uses his free hand to take a sip of his whiskey, “And don’t try to change the subject. I wanna know what you are gonna say.”

“I could say the same thing to you. We both have our secrets tonight,” you take a sip of your drink and shrug, “You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”

“Nice negotiating, cariño, but I think I’d have to have a few more of these if I was going to share mine.” He raises his glass a couple of inches off the table, the amber liquid sloshing around before he sets it down again.

You’d say anything to get him to keep giving you praise like that all the time.

Grabbing your own glass, you lift it to him and smile, “Well, only one of these and I’ll be spilling all my dirty secrets.”

Javier’s jaw notches to the side as you say that, biting his cheek before he takes his hand from yours and runs his thumb across his bottom lip to the corner.

Inside his chest, he feels his heart beating faster and feels his blood rushing south, that same damn smile of yours that you give him from rows away in class doing the same damn thing it does to him there.

Half of him is wondering how he can make you smile like that all the time.

The other half wants to wipe that smile off of your face and have you whimpering.

What would you look like under him?

Jesus Christ, he’s way far gone.

Javier’s had three more whiskeys on top of his previous three. You’ve had about four drinks yourself.

The evening has devolved into something much more casual, breezy; conversation has flowed between you two, finding things in common and swapping stories that have the other laughing. From the serious professor in class, this more easy-going Javi is refreshing to see and definitely makes your crush a lot worse, somersaulting stomach and warm, syrupy flood across your whole body.

The subject has returned to the evening’s secrets, you asking him again to share what he was going to say.

“Please, Javi, it can’t be any more embarrassing than what mine is. I’ll tell you what I was gonna say if you promise to tell me.” You extend your arm, fingers closed into a fist beside your pinky.

He looks at your hand, debating internally before deciding ‘fuck it’ and links his little finger with yours.

“I promise, cariño,” he smiles and nods for you to share, “What are you dying to tell me so that you can hear what I was gonna say?”

“The affection from you is nice cause, I don’t know, you feel…safe. When I first started, I was getting some weird men that wanted to meet, and—This has just been fun,” you resign with a soft smile, “Plus it helps that you’re hot. Got the whole smoldering cop with the porn stache thing.”

“Smoldering cop with the porn stache? I didn’t realize that was a thing,” he laughs, the crinkles next to his eyes deepening before he takes your hand lying on the table, “I’m glad this has been fun for you. After all that shock and awkwardness at the beginning, I think it’s been really nice to get to know you, angel.”

“Alright, I shared my little secret, you share yours now.”

Javier sighs, his thumb rubbing back and forth across your skin. He takes a moment to speak before he meets your eyes, a resistant smirk on his face, “You are really gonna make me say this?”

“You pinky promised! I didn’t make you do that, there’s no coercion here, Javier.”

“Fine, fine. You’re too quick, cariño,” he squeezes your fingers with his, “I was gonna say before that I couldn’t believe it happened to be you ‘cause—It’s stupid, really, but I’ve had a bit of a crush on you since that first class, querida.”

“A crush? The sexy Professor Peña has a crush on me?”

“Couldn’t keep my eyes off of you. Can’t keep ‘em off of you, cariño. Too beautiful. And you’re fucking on it all the time, so goddamn smart. I really am convinced you should be teaching for me,” he glances down sheepishly, feeling exposed from his tipsy confession.

The surface of your cheeks heats up, feeling a tingle down your spine when his eyes meet yours again. Leaning forward across the table, you bite your bottom lip as you drink him all in.

“D’you think I’ll ever be able to properly pay attention in class again after that?”

“You better, sweetheart. Just cause I’ve got a crush on you doesn’t mean you’ll get a good grade. Not gonna go easy on you. Fair’s fair.”

“Mm, I don’t mind it hard. I prefer it that way, actually. Makes it much more satisfying when you finish.” Your tongue wets your lips before you take your bottom one between your teeth, watching as Javier’s eyes darken at your double entendre.

He shakes his head, giving you a knowing look about your mischievous word choice, “Better be ready for a challenge then, angel.”

“Always, Peña.”

It’s late now, verging on turning into Sunday; the hours flew by with each other. Javier noticed the time on his watch, the crowd in the bar was sparse in spots that were full when he got there. When he looks at you, your eyelids look heavy, and those normally wide and bright eyes, eager and excited, look drowsy and content, so close to slipping closed and turning your mind off for the night.

“You ready to head out, angel? We’ll go find you a cab.” He asks with a subtle smile on his face, scooting out of his chair and standing, offering a hand to you.

“Yeah, m’ready.” You rise after taking his hand, hiking your small rectangular bag over your shoulder and stepping closer to him as he switches which hand is holding yours. Right in right, he grips yours from the outside of your palm, fingers lacing together as he presses his left into the small of your back, weaving between the patrons and out the front door.

The air is crisp when the door breaks open, cool air surrounding your warm, alcohol-blanketed bodies. Javier's touch still surrounds you, your right shoulder pressing into his chest when you turn to say something to him.

He takes a step back, allowing you the space to rotate fully in his arms, meeting his eyes and feeling a grin toy at your lips.

“Tonight was nice.”

“It was. Think I should be saying thanks to you. M’glad you had me stay.”

“Yeah? Well, m’happy to hear that cause I was gonna say, if you wanted to keep this up — meeting up, the arrangement all of that — if you wanted to keep it up for the semester, I would happily keep the secret. Y’know, you help me, I help you kind of thing. We just have fun.”

Javier considers the offer, ticking his jaw as he debates internally. On one hand, it’s a massive risk. The two of you could be seen out with each other, or if anyone noticed anything different in class, it could jeopardize his job, and possibly your degree. But on the other hand, if every night with you is like this one, he’s hard-pressed to say no. You’re funny and intelligent and beautiful — sure, there’s the element of how you two met and what happens behind the scenes, money taken out of his account monthly and forwarded to you through the service — but with the way you’ve had his heart pumping from your sweetness and his cock half hard at how turned on you have him constantly, he really can’t find a fuck to give about the risk.

“Alright. If you are in for it, I definitely am, angel,” he grins at you, his tongue poking out to wet his lips when his eyes flit to yours, the faint red lipstick of yours still holding strong.

“Good, Javi. That’s good,” your voice is a purr, a smug smirk playing at your lips when he leans in closer, walking you back towards the brick facade of the bar. His knees nearly give out when he hears those small praises, already waiting for the next time you speak them to him.

“Can I…?” he trails off, the tip of his nose only an inch from yours.

“You can kiss me, Javi.”

Without wasting another second, he catches his lips with yours, gentle at first with soft, delicate kisses exchanged. His tongue slides along your bottom lip, a breathy whimper parting your mouth enough for him to lick into it, melting his tongue with yours. One of his hands moves to hold your jaw, the other stagnant at your hip. A step closer brings him flush against you, quiet moans muffled into each other’s mouths.

The roughness of the brick is harsh against your bare skin on display, the contrasting sensations pooling arousal in between your legs. Javier tastes like tobacco, whiskey, and mint gum; an interesting combination but an intoxicating one. His hand at your hip moves around to your ass, pulling you off the wall slightly and against him, his growing bulge felt against your torso.

Before the two of you can get completely lost in each other, you pull away, hands on his chest. A taxi pulls up at that moment, honking its horn in question if you need a ride. You wave to him and ask for one minute with your fingers, turning back to Javi standing in front of you a bit breathless.

“I should go. Got some reading to do for this class on Monday that I’ve got.”

“Oh, yeah? Hope your professor hasn’t been killing you with the readings,” he smirks back at you.

“Nah, he hasn’t been killing me but seems like he does really wanna give it to me. Must have some high expectations,” your voice is coated with a lilt of teasing, winking at him as you slip from his arms.

He follows close behind to walk you to the cab, a hand finding your back and dropping down to graze his fingers across your ass.

“Think you’ll have no trouble exceeding those expectations, angel. Plus you could always ask for one-on-one tutoring or some extra credit.” It’s his turn to wink, opening the rear door for you and helping you in.

“Glad I have your confidence, Javi. Here, gimme your phone I’ll give you my number.” You reach out and he fumbles it from his pocket, passing it off to you. The information is quickly entered and saved, handing his device back to him and looking up at him from the seat of the cab.

“I’ll be waiting for a call, Javi. And I’ll see you Monday, Professor Peña.” You give him one last look, giggling as you shut the door and he hits the top of the taxi before you drive away, standing there with an idiotic smile on his face.

Javier grew up religious, his mamá dragging him to church every Sunday. He’s only been back to church at the major holidays he’s been home, leaving behind any spiritual side of him. All the concepts of eternal souls and heaven and hell meant nothing to him.

However, tonight, he felt an inkling to believe that heaven was real, and he had met an angel.

His angel.

tagging those from last time: @northernbluess @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsquill @yazsos @cartoon-garbage04 @sugadolly @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel

IF YOU WANT TO BE ON THE TAGLIST, PLEASE FILL THIS FORM OUT! thank you!

#javier #writing #only angel #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña smut #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fic #javier peña fanfic #javier peña x afab!reader #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fanfic

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bluebirdsboi · 1 year ago

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MCU Masterlist | Last Updated: 7/24/23

Key

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Augustus “Pug” Pugliese (Josh Segarra)

Coming soon...

Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan)

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Clint Barton (Jeremy Renner)

The New Guy 🥰(🥵) | 📘 | 💙

Dane Whitman (Kit Harington)

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Daniel Sousa (Enver Gjokaj)

Coming soon...

Druig (Barry Keoghan)

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Everett Ross (Martin Freeman

Coming soon...

Frank Castel (Jon Bernthal)

Coming soon...

Helmut Zemo (Daniel Brühl)

Coming soon..

Howard Stark (Dominic Cooper)

Coming soon...

Ikaris (Richard Madden)

Coming soon...

Jack Russell (Gael García Bernal)

Coming soon...

Joaquín Torres (Danny Ramirez)

Coming soon...

Kingo (Kumail Nanjiani)

Coming soon...

Leo Fitz (Iain De Caestecker)

Coming soon...

Marc Spector (Oscar Isaac)

He Won’t Have You 🥵🩹 | 📘 | 💙

Solace 🩹 | 📘 | 💙

Matt Murdock (Charlie Cox)

Coming soon...

Namor (Tenoch Huerta)

Coming soon...

N’Jadaka (Killmonger) (Michael B. Jordan)

Coming soon...

Peter Parker (Tobey Maguire | Andrew Garfield | Tom Holland)

Coming soon...

Peter Quill (Chris Pratt)

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Pietro Maximoff (Aaron Taylor-Johnson)

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Quentin Beck (Jake Gyllenhaal)

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Sam Wilson (Anthony Mackie)

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Scott Lang (Paul Rudd)

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Stephen Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch)

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Steve Rogers (Chris Evans)

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Steven Grant (Oscar Isaac)

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T’Challa (Chadwick Boseman)

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Thor Odinson (Chris Hemsworth)

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Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.)

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Xu Shang-Chi (Simu Liu)

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#marvel #MCU #masterlist

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peachambrosia · 8 months ago

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PEACHAMBROSIA - a private, selective, independent smut-forward multimuse blog. written by shaya ( sh-eye-uh ), she/her/herself, 21+ dash-only, using beta editor & x-kit extensions.

my general rules are as follows.

○ you must be over 18 to write with me in general. ○ if you do not have your name/alias and your age listed somewhere visible on your blog, i will not follow you back. ○ activity will fluctuate depending on replies i have and how my mental health fares. ○ i can format to fit your aesthetics, but otherwise, i tend to work in regular-sized font, single spaces, and regular-sized gifs for replies since i have vision problems. ○ banned plots, banned faceclaims, and anything that might trigger me or generally give me the ick are case-by-case and can be spoken about privately.

and, of course, if there's anything that you might need from me - things tagged a certain way, to talk about a plot point or dynamic, or just to say hello and see if we can write together - my IMs are always open and i'm honestly always lurking, so please feel free to stop by !

muses & their faceclaims, aesthetics, tropes, and more under the cut ! updated : 4-11-24 !

jack foster. paul rudd. he/him. 50-55. ○ feels like… the headrush after having kissed someone for a little too long, morning sun on fresh and untouched snow, laughing so hard your abdomen aches, long road trips through mountains. ○ choice tropes : teacher and single father, fake dating/marriage, brand-new neighbors.

dante salvador. pedro pascal. he/him. 45-50. ○ feels like… freshly-chopped cedar wood, shades of blue on a white canvas, reuniting with your dog after being away for so long, when the lights go down just before a concert begins. ○ choice tropes : small town man meets big-city love interest, businessman and call girl/escort, the artist and their muse.

atlas montague. alan ritchson. he/him. 35-40. ○ feels like... gentle fingers pressing into a fresh bruise, a house shaking with thunder, midnight roadtrips, the strum of an electric guitar, flower petals held in calloused hands. ○ choice tropes : bodyguard and celebrity, flower shop owner & tattoo shop owner, football player and cheerleader.

siobhan kingston. madelyn cline. she/her. 25-30. ○ feels like… bass pulsing from music speakers, ripping open gift wrapping paper excitedly, lace against skin, ice skating on a frozen winter lake in the early morning. ○ choice tropes : prolific academic rivals to secret lovers, roommates with benifits, rich kids who only have each other.

annabelle han. lola tung. she/her. 21-25. ○ feels like… moving into a brand new house in a brand new city as a young adult, ripe gala apples pulled from a backyard tree, quiet beach towns holding too many secrets, spinning around in a sparkling dress until the euphoria makes you dizzy. ○ choice tropes : childhood friends to lovers, corruption of the innocent, the princess and the underling.

#indie rp #indie mumu rp #indie oc rp #indie smut rp #indie bi rp #indie kink rp #ooc ! ♡ pinned #ooc ! ♡ likes are okay on this but please do not reblog!

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groupiewhoreee · 2 years ago

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howdy everyone! i'm neveah, i write things heres the bands i write for and what i wont write !

metallica

lars ulrich

kirk hammett

james hetfield

Jason newsted

robert trujilo

ron mcgovney

motley crue

vince neil

nikki sixx

tommy lee

mick mars

guns n roses

axl rose

steven adler

duff mckagen

izzy stradlin

slash hudson

kiss

paul stanley

eric carr

ace frehley

peter criss

tommy thayer

gene simmons

vinnie vincent

van halen

eddie van halen

david lee roth

alex van halen

micheal anthony

ac/dc

bon scott

angus young

malcolm young

cliff williams

brian johnson

phill rudd

megadeth

dave mustaine

david ellefson

marty friedman

nick menza

and other bands/rockstars if you request it!

i can write,

smut

fluff

angst

fantasy

mystery

horror

etc

i won't write,

pedophilla,

rape

eating disorders (i have nothing against it, i just won't write it.)

just basic won't write stuff.

feel free to message me about requesting! please have some idea/plot prepared but if not its all good!

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raisedbyheathens · 1 year ago

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I 100% HC bi Warren. He even has a few (imo) tells over the course of the show. Hew doesn't do the middle age straight cis guy hedge about Paul Rudd. SO MANY cishet dudes can't just admit some actor is good looking. there's no 'well I'm not gay but...' just a full on "I'd choose Paul Rudd". In his tapes from WYWH one; he mentions Rodrigo's thighs, which- weird. It's not "Rodrigo is very muscular" in general but specifically the size of Rodrigo's thighs. Also; while Gordon was worried about George and Betty thinking they were a couple, Warren was just like: shrug. Darker thought, but the show definitely implies pretty heavily that the 'rampant domestic abuse' was also CSA; and I cannot imagine that leads to a healthy relationship with being on the queer spectrum. He was bullied and small and absolutely lonely and I just want to hold Warren like a baby bird; and there's a reason I write really gentle Garden romance and smut.

Hi, could you tell us about your red valley headcanons? Would love to read them c:

hi!!! i have many red valley thoughts, but only a quarter of them are coherent lol

FIRST...not a headcanon, but man, what a show. The way they depict different personalities and themes...ah, it makes me very emotional.

Additional thoughts and headcanons below the cut !

Okay, SO. Warren Godby. The man, the myth, the incredibly traumatized legend. I am rotating him in mind microwave like 24/7.

Bisexual Warren is true and canon in my heart lol. I don't know how actual show canon will shake out, but he's a bi king in my heart.

I imagine that, whether or not his parents were actively religious, he comes from a culturally Christian background. I can so easily imagine him coming from a Catholic background, for many reasons but also bc it would be so thematically tragic for him.

In canon, he makes an offhand comment that the "original Sega MegaDrive" was like his best friend when he was a kid. This comment makes me! Insane! Thinking about how fucked up his childhood must have been. Especially considering that his dad bought him game consoles and stuff as a poor excuse for rampant domestic abuse.

^^ From those two pieces of information, I imagine Warren as a just...chronically lonely and isolated kid. Like, even if he had friends, I don't imagine he had many or that the ones he had were ones he felt emotionally close to.

Also, as a kid who grew up around domestic abuse and was heavily traumatized, Warren probably did not have an especially great handle on his emotions throughout childhood and teen years. I can so imagine him like, ages 6-8, really struggling to contain and deal with negative feelings, and as a result probably getting in a little trouble at school sometimes

Annnnnd, I will stop there so I don't ramble too long. Warren is my special little guy!! His story makes me so sad, even before the cryonic nonsense lol

#warren godby #blorbo #red valley #Gordon had better wake up #so they can kiss #and heal together

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b3ans0up · 2 years ago

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Ready for my babies movie 🥰

#paul rudd #paul rudd smut #scott lang smut #scott lang #scott lang x reader #marvel #marveledit #ant man #new movie #hot tiktok

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skeletoninspace · 5 years ago

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I’m the Ant-Man!

... I know, it wasn’t my Idea.

Marvel (18/?)

Series Masterlist

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dangerousstrawberryshark · 3 years ago

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Behind Closed Doors Masterlist!

DISCLAIMERS: Minors DNI and female readers, I'll let you read my fic but do not fetishize it! If I find out about it, all-female readers will be banned. REMEMBER! This is fiction. I mean no offense, harm, or disrespect to these celebrities.

Pairings (Yandere for all): Chris Evans x male reader; Chris Hemsworth x male reader; Tom Holland x male reader; Robert Downey Jr. x male reader; Aaron Taylor Johnson x male reader; Sebastian Stan x male reader; Anthony Mackie x male reader; Paul Rudd x male reader; Jeremy Renner x male reader; Benedict Cumberbatch x male reader.

Rating: Contain explicit content.

Warnings: bottom male reader, top male celebrities, obsession, possessive behavior, dark themes, murder, description of murder, blood, blood kink, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, innocent/oblivious male reader, gaslighting, mention of a past relationship, double penetration, threesome/tensome, rough smut, daddy along with master kink, Stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, breeding kink, pregnancies kink, pits/musk kink, and biting kink.

Summary: When you first join the production crew, you never expected to gain all the attention of ten males. Then all those actors would soon develop sinister thoughts about what they could do to you. What would you do if ten crazy people fell in love with you?

PART 1

PART 2... COMING SOON

PART 3 (SMUT)... COMING SOON

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sadadaptive-daydreaming · 3 years ago

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Dessert Before Dinner | Scott Lang x Reader

A/N: I haven't seen quite a lot of fics about Scott Lang so I wanted to give it a try. Hope y’all like it! ;)

Summary: Scott surprises you with a homemade meal following a work promotion, but the garlic butter salmon and roasted asparagus aren’t the only things steaming up your kitchen. You're enjoying your heated moment together until your parents unexpectedly show up for a visit.

Word count: 2534

Warnings: Fluffy, light smut.

The excitement inside you was bubbling over, you could barely contain it in your body as you dialled Scott’s number. It rang a few times before he picked up.

“Yello?” Scott answered, his slick voice projected loudly in your office.

“Scott, it's me,” you said, your words trembling with your over-spilling emotion.

He was quick to detect it. “Baby, what's wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” you assured him. You took a deep breath to get a hold of yourself. But it does very little. You're still audibly elated on your end of the line. “I got the promotion, Scott!”

“You got the promotion?!” he shouted, echoing you as if you weren't in an eight-foot by eight-foot private cubicle but instead were in an auditorium with thousands of empty seats.

“Mmhmm!” you squealed.

“Oh Y/N, that's amazing!” he said. “Congratulations baby, you deserve it.”

And that you did. You had been working your ass off at the marketing firm you had given the majority of your adult life to, and finally you we're receiving the position you always dreamt of: senior marketing director.

“So you get the bigger office and manage the department?” Scott asked.

He was always so supportive of your dreams and you were so grateful that he believed in you, even when you didn't share that same optimism for yourself.

“Yes, and yes,” you answered, your body still full of happiness.

“I'm so proud of you, Y/N,” he gushed. “We have to celebrate tonight!”

You smiled. “I’d like that.”

The rest of your workday went by fast. It saw you busied with department meetings and the beginnings of internal interviews to find your replacement. By the time you hopped on a cable car to start your trek home, it was already a quarter past five. The San Francisco Bay was shrinking behind you as the car glided along the cable away from the waterfront and towards the inner city. You lived in a small Victorian townhouse around the neighbourhood of Lower Pacific Heights, buying it for no other reason than the fact that it looked like the Tanners’ home from Full House. It was perfect for just you, and you heard no complaints whenever Scott stayed the night. And you were hoping he'd do the same this evening as you recognized his car parked in your driveway.

“Scott?” you called out once you’ve climbed your steep porch steps and unlocked your red front door.

“How did you know I was here?” he whined loudly from the kitchen.

“Maybe it’s my ant tingle!” you teased back, shrugging the jean jacket off your shoulders and hanging it on the coat rack in your narrow entryway.

You hear him before you see him—Scott had turned the corner out of your kitchen, dashed through your living room and slid to a stop inches from you.

“First off, I don't have a tingle,” he said before pecking your lips softly. “That’s Spider-Man’s thing.”

“Oh is it?” you questioned, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck.

He snaked his hands on your waist and dipped you backwards.

“Yeah, I have more of an ache in my spleen,” he said against your lips.

“In your spleen?” you laughed, your body bobbing in his arms from giggling so hard.

Scott pulled you back up until you're both stood upright.

“Uh-huh,” he replied, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Well, my ache”—you began, squirming against his lips on your skin, your fingers laced in his hair—“is a little lower than my spleen.”

“You mean down here?” he asked, sliding his hand on your behind.

He gave it a squeeze roughly making you gasp at his firm hold on your tush.

“Sorry, my spleen made me do it,” he taunted.

“There's something my spleen wants to do,” you said.

Your fingers swept down his back, sneaking around to the front of his blue jeans. You undid the button and pulled down the zipper. It was achingly slow the way your fingers worked. You wanted to tease him as much as he did you, and it was working. Scott tossed his head back when your hand reached into his boxers and brushed against his growing bulge.

“No,” he breathed out, grabbing your hand. “Not yet.”

“Why not?” you pouted. “I want you.”

He shimmied his pants back up his waist and buttoned them again.

“You won't be able to keep your hands off me when you see what I did to your kitchen,” he said, starting towards the end of the hallway and into the living room around the corner

“Scott!” you groaned after him.

“Kidding!” he yelled back, and then popped his head back around the corner. “But not really.”

You could only imagine the disaster that awaited you. Scott's culinary repertoire hadn’t advanced past frozen chicken nuggets and Hamburger Helper, so expectations weren’t high but you always appreciated his effort—even if it meant more clean up for you afterwards. And today was no different. As you walked into your kitchen, you were greeted with an array of dirty pots and pans tossed into the sink, used utensils littering the wrap-around marble counter and a stack of porcelain bowls so high they started to arch. The havoc before you activated your fight or flight, but you chose to do neither when you finally noticed your dining room table that had been set for two complete with candles and rose petals.

“Scott,” you began, almost choked up by his dedication, “you did this all for me?”

“Nope. I did it for my other girlfriend,” he replied. “You're gonna have to leave now because she doesn't know about you and I don't want things to get awkward.”

“Imagine the catastrophe,” you played along.

“That's what I'm talking about!”

Scott grabbed your hand and walked you to your seat at the table. He pulled it out for you to sit and then pushed you closer to the wooden edge.

“Thank you,” you said, as he took his seat opposite you, “for everything.”

A grin widened on his face. “You're welcome, baby.”

You looked down at the plate in front of you and then cocked your head to the right hoping a different angle might help you discern what he's made.

“So what are we having, Mr. Gordon Ramsay?” you asked after a while of staring.

He picked up his butter knife and swung it in the air as he taunted, “Well, I'm so glad you asked.”

Scott used the knife to point at the pink clump resting on a bed of soggy rice. “This is salmon on a beautiful mattress of jasmine rice.”

Your eyes widened at the rosy blob on your plate. “That's salmon?” you wanted to say, but it came out as: “Oh, I see it now.”

Except you didn't, nor could you make out the asparagus he had diced into little bits and roasted in the oven that looked more like soft broccoli mashed into a paste.

“Yum!” you gushed politely as you struggled to swallow a piece of salmon that was drier than sandpaper.

“Be honest, is it good?” he asked, watching you chug down your glass of wine to dislodge the fish glued to your throat.

“Mmhmm,” you smiled through closed teeth, your tongue working overtime to get whatever bits of salmon that didn't go down your esophagus lose from the roof of your mouth.

Scott flaked off a piece of his salmon. You held your breath as he brought it to his lips.

“God, this is terrible,” he choked out after swallowing it.

You shook your head, your mouth preoccupied with another bit of stuck fish.

He looked up at you and sneered, “And you're a horrible person for lying to me.”

“It is good!” you rebutted after forcing down the chunk.

“Yeah, and I'm Oprah Winfrey.” “What?” “I thought we were saying things that aren't true.” “Scott!”

He reaches over and stops you from putting a fork-full of asparagus in your mouth.

“They're much better things I'd rather watch you put in your mouth than that,” he said, lowering your arm down towards the table.

Your cheeks went red as you inferred his words. He didn't need his spleen to tell him what you wanted.

“Let me at least clear the table, you animal,” he teased.

He worked in lightning speed, collecting your plates and glasses, and then candles and petals until only the bare tablecloth remained. You rolled it up into a sausage and tossed it on the counter.

“You get me so turned on when you throw things,” he scoffed, lifting you up on the table

“Shut up!” you laughed.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, and then his lips were on yours.

He was kissing you fervently as if he had been deprived of you for years.

“But seriously, how did you know I was here?” he asked, in between breaths.

“What?” you sighed into his mouth utterly confused.

“Earlier,” he said, following another kiss, “you knew I was here.” His fingers began unbuttoning your blouse. “How?”

You shrugged the material off your shoulders and it dropped to the ground.

“Your car parked outside gave me an inkling,” you answered, starting to undo his jeans again.

He peeled his pants off his legs and then tore off his t-shirt. You ran your hand down his bare chest, feeling his firm skin under your palms.

“Dammit,” he said, tugging your black leather pants down your thighs. “I knew I should’ve walked here.”

It didn't take long until both your undergarments were scattered on the kitchen floor with the rest of your clothes. Scott was in between your thighs working your core and then soon, you were between his.

“On the table,” he commanded, and you were happy to comply.

You fastened your arms around the nape of his neck as he positioned himself at your entrance. With one quick thrust, Scott had you gasping his name. His tempo was steady and you swirled your hips with his rhythm to have him in all the places you needed. He snaked his fingers down to your center and moved them in swift circles on your sensitive spot.

“Scott!” you cried out, your body shaking as you released onto him.

Scott groaned his own enjoyment and you knew he could cave at any second. You matched his uneven breathing as the doorbell sounded loudly behind you, and then a knock followed. Scott didn't stop or even slow his pumping at the noise.

“Scott,” you whispered into his neck.

“Shhhh,” he silenced you.

The doorbell sounded again with another knock.

You clenched around him as you turned your body towards the front of your house intrigued by who could be outside.

“Just leave it,” he said, tugging you back into him.

He holds your body tight to his while he continued throbbing in you. And then your phone rings, making the both of you halt in your tracks. You scanned your kitchen knowing that your phone was lost somewhere in the mess where you had dropped it when initially surveying the disaster zone.

You freed yourself from his grasp and rummaged through the havoc until you located it.

“It's my mother,” you gasped.

“Shit!” Scott moaned. “Answer it.”

And so you did.

“Hi mom.” “Honey, are you okay?” she asked immediately on the other end of the line. “Yes, I’m fine,” you lied as Scott helped you pull your pants up your legs.

You put her on speaker as you yanked your blouse over your head.

“Your father and I are outside and we’ve been ringing your doorbell.” Your mother’s voice boomed out of your phone. “Dave, do it again.”

She instructed your father to ring your doorbell, which sounded loudly from your entryway. “Can you not hear it?”

Scott shook his head no.

“N-no,” you stuttered out. “I’m not home.”

“But your car’s in the driveway,” your mother said.

“My car?” you questioned. Just a few moments with Scott could make you forget anything, even your own name.

He nudged you in the side and then mouthed to you, his fingers frantically pointing to his chest and then the front of your house, “My car! In your driveway!”

You choked down the lump forming in your throat.

“It’s my neighbour’s,” you lied, spinning out webs of deceit as quickly as your brain allowed. “I’m letting her park it there.”

“Okay...” your mother responded.

She was far to well-versed in smelling out your bullshit. That’s precisely the reason you kept your relationship with Scott a secret from your parents. You knew they’d never give their blessing to a man nearly twice your age who was a convicted felon. And you could only imagine the confusion on their faces when you mentioned the whole Ant-Man thing. You couldn’t tell your parents about him, that you were certain. What you weren’t sure of initially was how Scott would feel about all the lying and secret rendezvous. But surprisingly, it meshed well with his chaotic lifestyle.

“Tell them you’ll be home in a bit,” Scott whispered to you, but not nearly as quiet enough as he should have.

“Who’s that?” your mother asked. There was suspicion in her voice, there always was with you.

You pushed Scott’s face away from you and then spun around with your back to him.

“Just a coworker,” you began as Scott slapped your behind. You stifled a gasp. “I’m still at work.”

“That’s what you get for tempting me with that ass,” he breathed against your neck.

Scott clutched you to him as you melted into his chest.

“Listen mom, I really have to go,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm as Scott slipped his hand into your pants. “Why don’t you guys go get something for dinner”—you interrupted yourself with another muffled gasp—“then come back to my house for dessert. I’ll be home later.”

“Y/N, are you sure you’re fine. You sound kind of funny,” your mom asked again.

You elbowed Scott in the stomach and his fingers stopped moving against your folds for a brief second. “Never better.”

Your mom bought it. Or at least she did enough to get her off your back for the time being. “Okay, we’ll see you later then.”

“Bye mom.”

You hung up quickly and then turned slightly to kiss Scott’s neck as he returned to his handiwork in your panties.

“You’re such a jerk,” you breathed into him. “Would I still be a jerk if I went to check that your parents are gone?” he asked, his body swaying side to side with yours. “Maybe. Maybe not.” “Then I’ll be right back.”

He pulled his arm out of your pants and spun you around so you both were face to face.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he said before pressing his lips to your forehead. “I wouldn’t imagine it.”

You watched as he marched out of the kitchen, your mind inferring his trek to the front entrance. You imagined him peering out the slightly-opened glass door, a few quick glances in either direction being enough to confirm that your parents were nowhere to be seen. And as he strolled back to you in the kitchen, you fell even more in love with the man you wanted to spent the rest of your life with.

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