Same Mate

my favorite movie forever🤍

Matilda (1996) dir. Danny Devito

dang

NEEDY THING

lily exans x reader x James potter

warning! innocence kink, sub!reader, dom!james, dom!lily, dacryphillia, fingering, clit play, nipple play, finger sucking, cockwarming, penetrative sex, rough sex, subspace.

I was slotted between Lily’s legs on her bed as the redheads fingers worked at my clit, whines and cries leaving my mouth. She found me crying and bought me back to her dorm to calm me down and then pulled a confession of my hysterics from me.

I had been aching for days on end and had zero clue how to stop it, I was always wet and kept waking up after having certain dreams, my sleep shorts soaked as well as my sheets.

“There you go, baby. See? How nice does that feel?” I grabbed at her arm as I threw my head back and ground my hips up into her hand. “So good, miss.”

She giggled, eyes not even glancing up as e door open, nor did mine.

James Potter, Lily’s boyfriend, walked into the room and smirked, hanging his coat up. “What’s going on here then? Who’s this pretty thing?” He asked as I sobbed and cried.

“She’s just the neediest thing on earth, were so lucky I found her. Doesn’t even understand anything when she’s all subby like this. Doesn’t have to be subby to not understand, just a dumb baby.” Lily teased, slipping her two middle fingers into me as I let out a strangled cry and let her put her other two fingers in my mouth.

“Found her outside, crying her heart out. Just felt so bad, I had to take this pretty girl in. Just look at her pretty little cunt.” Lily said, ignoring my cries as she pulled my legs open more and exposed my dripping pussy. I sucked on her fingers, sobbing whilst my tongue suckled and flicked. “After I’m done playing you can fuck her.” Lily said, brushing my hair back. My cunt fluttered at the filthy words and I screwed my eyes shut as a knot swirled in my tummy, whines growing louder.

“Please, please, please!” I basically screamed around her fingers, legs shaking as lily pumped and curled her fingers faster, her thumb circling my clit whilst James kissed my shoulder. I finally came undone, letting out choked sobs as my ears rung and my vision went black, body thrashing. Lily giggled, holding my hips down as a wet release stained her sheets, finding her own wetness slicking her cunt.

When I finally came down, I rested my head on her chest with her saliva covered fingers and release covered fingers on my thighs, breathing heavily with my chest heaving up and down. The redhead sucked my releasenoff of her fingers before putting her arms under mine to hold me in place, giggling as I whined and tugged agaisnt her grip. “Stay still so jamie can fill you up, mm?” She mused, kissing my head.

“Yes, miss.” I whimpered, watching as James began to unbuckle his belt, looking intensely at me as I bit down on my lip so hard that a pearl of blood formed on my lip. Lily tilted my head up and smudged the blood down my chin before kissing me, her tongue prying my mouth open. My eyes shut as I responded and used my tongue to delve into her mouth, beginning a sloppy make out session between us. Heat built in the bottom of my tummy, soft whines leaving my lips as she laced one arm out of mine and grabbed the back of my hair, kissing me rougher.

James pulled my legs back open, “baby, needa be ready so you don’t get shocked, yeah?” He hummed, lily and I pulling away from the kiss with a lewd slap of our lips. “Yes, sir.” I purred, laying my head back on Lily’s chest. James pumped himself whilst lining up on my entrance, slowly easing into me. I let out a string of whines and whimpers, trying to get away from his throbbing cock. My walls stretched painfully as he bottomed out and I dropped my head back, letting out a wail as he began to thrust.

“Sir!”

He let out a chuckle, “god, you sound so needy. Doesn’t she, lils?” He looked at his girlfriend and she nodded in agreement, hooking her arms under mine again. “Really does, darling. Come on, fuck her harder than that, she can take it, can’t you baby?”

I sniffles and nodded. “I can take it harder, miss.”

That was all James needed to start fucking me even harder, hips clashing into mine as i cried out and pressed my heels to his back, knees on either side of his waist. “So good! So good—oh!”

My eyes screwed shut in pleasure as I bared against him, pushing against his cock. Ecstasy bloomed in m stomach at the feeling and I let out a somber sob, sounding so upset but I was so lost in pleasure.

“There’s my good girl.” Lily coed, brushing my hair out of my face as tears ran down my face, ruining my makeup. “No, she’s my good girl.” James argued, thrusting harder.

“I’m the one who found her,” Lily purred with a proud smirk, reaching down the front of my body and to my chest to grab at my perky little breasts, pinching at my nipples. The two drowned out my feeble cries as they argued and ended up getting James all riled up, so he fucked me even harder.

I screamed and cried, finding myself closer and closer to my brink. “Oh god—mm!” I squealed, hips jolting as his tip prodded my g-spot over and over.

“Go on baby, cum for us.”

I came again with a wail, gasping for air as I clenched tightly around james’ cock, making him come undone on top of me, groaning out profanities.

We all just laid there, sitting in each other’s comfort. But then lily chuckled.

“I just came,” she admitted, causing my eyes to widen as James looked up at her with confusion. “What, how?”

“Her pretty little arse was just rubbing against me because you fucked her so hard and I came at the same time as her.”

I chuckled softly and laid my head back on her chest, whining and protesting as James made a move to pull out. I used the heels of my feet to fully sheathe him back inside of me. “Stay.”

“If you say so,” he laughed, pulling the covers over all of us, soon we fell into a deep sleep, limbs tangled and body parts joined perfectly.

———

im-

Smut request with 15, 80 and 106 with Bully/Jock!Wanda from the prompt list! I hope this is a okay request and feel free to not include a prompt etc.

For the past four months, you’ve been assigned to photograph Wanda Maximoff, a model in high demand for her sculpted face, her high cheekbones and bright green eyes, freckles that were soft as they spread across her delicate face. She was the ideal client, and you’d been working for her for several months.

But it had been no less than hell.

Wanda was a piece of work. She took every chance to belittle you, to insult your work and put herself above those who worked with her, but you, especially.

‘You consider yourself to be a professional?’ Wanda barked at you when you’d shown her the photos you took of her for a spring magazine issue. She got in your face and pointed at your work on the screen. ‘I look completely washed out and I have no presence in any of these pictures. You expect to be paid and to have me recommend you to other agencies?’

Not knowing quite what to say, you stayed silent and drilled holes into her skull. 

‘If you’re hoping to get anything from your privilege working with me, you’d better fix this shit,’ she demanded, pointing at the screen of your computer so hard the display warped into pixelated, abnormal colours under her finger. Wanda left the set, but not before pushing at your equipment and nearly having your tripod tumble down onto your keyboard. You stuck your hand out just in time to catch it.

In lesser words, Wanda Maximoff was a bitch. 

She was a woman who had peaked in college and had never truly grown out of her highschool-mean-girl act. Her pretty face was the only reason she’d ever gotten where she was now, and that thought soothed you when your blood boiled after spending twelve hours a day or more with her.

Tonight, it was only you and her in the studio as you photographed her for a large event she would be attending, so it was a very important shoot. You’d been going at it since before dinnertime, and it was now midnight. Everyone else had gone home, and unsurprisingly, Wanda let everyone go but you.

You yawn from behind your camera as you snap photos of her from different angles. 

“Sorry, is all of this boring you?” Wanda snaps as she looks down on you while you’re taking a photo of her from a lower angle. You take a picture in the middle of her scolding you with a scowl on her face and hold back a smirk at imagining releasing the photo without her knowledge.

“Frankly, yes,” you answer and stand up, flitting through the photos on your camera. “We’ve been at this for hours, Wanda. If I hadn’t gotten a good shot of you by now, there’s not going to be one.” You step off of the studio’s platform and walk to your equipment to look at the photos on your laptop.

Wanda trails after you, hot on your heels as she continues to shout insults at you. “No wonder why we’ve been here for so long. You’re a half-grade photographer who can’t work for shit,” she laughs. “There’s a reason why you’re failing at working with America’s top model, Y/N, and why you have to work late nights away from your shabby little studio apartment falling through, time and time again, to make someone like me look good on camera.”

You don’t know what, after months of listening to Wanda’s whining, finally made something snap deep within you, but before you knew what you were doing, you spun around and slapped the model across the face.

She stumbles back, gasping and raising a hand to her stinging cheek. She doesn’t shout at you, nor does she become angry, but instead her shoulders rise and fall shakily, her face shrouded by her hair. You step forward and take the bottom of her face in your hand, squeezing painfully.

“What?” you hiss, your face so close to her she can feel your warm breath on her nose. A sliver of humour flashes across your face. “Does that feel good?”

Wanda flushes immediately and tries to push you away, but you wrap your other arm around her waist and slap her again, stilling her body and making her look up at your face defiantly. Despite the way she breathed through her nose furiously, green eyes laced with rage as she looked at you, Wanda didn’t say a word.

You look down at her body, her low-cut dress and the angle at which you looked down at her exposing her breasts to you. She watches your eyes as they travel down her dress, and her breathing quickens. You step back from her and hook a finger around the neckline of her dress, exposing the bra she wore underneath.

“Take it off slowly,” you command.

Wanda’s body trembles with restrained anger, and something else you cannot place a finger on, but she listens and begins to strip in front of you. When she’s in nothing but her bra and panties, you tell her to take those off too. She argues, but you threaten to take your camera out and force her down onto the floor to take photos of her bare tits and spread them to every modelling agency. 

She unclips her bra and slips her panties off.

When she’s completely naked, you step forward and place a hand on her shoulder before shoving her down to the floor so she’s on her knees. Wanda yelps out but you cover her mouth with your hand and dig your fingernails into her cheeks. With your other hand, you unzip your jeans and pull your own panties down. “Open your mouth,” you say simply.

Wanda’s breathing is rapid now, shaky, but her cheeks are flushed and she can’t look away from your glistening core. Before she can wonder at what point you started getting wet, you take a bunch of her hair and force her face between your thighs. She tries to pull away at first, but you pull at her hair painfully. After crying out against your clit, Wanda gives in and darts her tongue out to run up your slit.

As you buck your pussy down onto her face, you take your camera from your desk while Wanda’s distracted. You lift the camera to your chest and angle it down to the model on her knees. Her hands are on your ass, pulling you against her face and moaning as she laps her tongue against your soaking cunt. 

When a bright flash flickers from on top of her, Wanda pulls away, her eyes wide and her lips parted in shock. She runs through her entire career in her mind, her life and her reputation. If the photo of her naked and on her knees, her face buried in her photographer’s pussy came out, everything would be ruined for her.

Needless to say, Wanda never snapped at you again, and never even dared to look you in the eye if you didn’t give her permission to.

i want to live above a bookstore café and have a little balcony garden you can see from the street that is all

IN RUINS

PAIRING: spencer reid x fem reader

SUMMARY: spencer reid has always had something against you. during a particular case, spencer snaps and says something he shouldn’t have said leaving you in ruins. but what happens when your in danger and he still hasn’t explained why he reacted the way he did. will he have the time?

“ what happened?” hotch says standing infront of the big white board that had some very gruesome pictures of 5 victims splayed out on a park bench. he’s standing tall and strong with his hands crossed in his dark grey suit. he’s looking at you and spencer, who’s walking in right behind you slamming the door close.

“ It’s her fault.” spencer says quickly moving to the other side of the room opposite you, trying to get as far away from you as possible.

you take a deep breath in trying your absolute hardest not to roll your eyes and cross your hands in annoyance and disappointment. “ it’s not my fault reid-”

“ woah woah what the heck happened?” morgan says pushing himself back in the precinct chair watching you and spencer. he looks at spencer, he sees the strong look of disgust and annoyance spencer is shooting at you. he looks at you, he notices you looking at spencer with a disappointed look.

“ she told the unsubs family we are after the unsub-” spencer spits out looking over at hotch, waiting for him to yell at you or lecture you.

“ wait spence we don’t even know who the unsub is. what do you mean?” jj says turning her head to look at spencer confusion written on her face. “ exactly! thank you jj!” you reply throwing your hands up.

“ michael miller is our unsub hotch.” spencer says completely ignoring your attempt to reason with him, his eyes stay on hotch waiting for him to snap at you or just lecture you. “ wait a minute i thought michael miller had a solid alibi.” morgan says laying back in his chair resting his arms on the arm rests. “ he does have a solid alibi it checks out-” spencer cuts you off. “ it does not check out!” spencer says.

“ yes it does! hotch we asked his dad who confirmed his son came home at 8:30 pm from football practice.” you say growing impatient looking at hotch, hotch’s eyebrows are furrowed tightly. his arms are still crossed listening to you and spencer bicker back and fourth.

“ just because his dad showed the tiniest bit of concern about his son when the fbi showed up to his doorstep does not make him a reliable source, just because you never had a dad who showed any bit of concern and now when you finally see a dad care about their kid does not mean you should not fall into their trap just because you never had a trap to fall into.” spencer spits out finally looking at you.

he watches as your expression hardens. he watches as humiliation and embarrassment fill your once determined eyes, the determined eyes who tried to reason with spencer at-least 4 minutes ago. 4 minutes, that’s how long it takes for your perspective of someone to change. he watches as your eyebrows tremble, a habit you have when your trying to fight back tears. he watches as your throat trembles too, probably trying to fight back that agonising choke you get when your about to cry.

the entire room goes quiet. spencers gaze remains on you, slowly watching your soul shatter because of his words. your gaze remains on spencer, slowly feeling your soul shatter because of his words.

the door that spencer slammed close 4 minutes ago opens, rossi and emily walking in. “ michael millers alibi checks out. we’ve got pictures of him at football practice from 5pm to 8:25pm. he wouldn’t have had the time to commit the murders.” rossi says opening the door for emily. “ also his teammates described him as an extrovert and outgoing which is not what we profiled the unsub to be.” emily says with her hands inside her pockets nodding looking at everyone surrounding the table.

“ i feel as though we interrupted something.” rossi says eyeing everyone in the room raising an eyebrow in confusion. he could feel the tension. emily could too. which is why she immediately looks over at morgan for answers. morgan looks at her for a split second before returning his gaze on you.

“ y/n-” spencer attempts. he tries to bring himself to take a step towards you, but it’s like his words somehow built a barrier between you and him that he now can’t even physically cross. or maybe he’s just scared that if he takes a step towards you, you’ll take a step back. away from him.

you swallow the gut wrenching feeling of tears crawling up your throat. you look down to your converse. “ i’m gonna go…uhm get coffee.” you say turning around immediately walking towards the door. “ excuse me.” you whisper pushing past rossi and emily.

“ oh wonder boy..” garcia says through the tv screen, her bright purple tinted lips which usually wear a bright smile on her face now wearing a frown. her tone disappointed as she presses her heart eye fuzzy emoji pen into her cheek. “ i uhm did my usual background checking on the uhm..list of potential unsubs and a uhm…scott anderson has a sketchy background. i’ve just sent his file to you my pretties.” garcia says stuttering quite a few times finding it hard to sneak her usually bubbly nicknames into the conversation after what had just happened. “ thank you garcia. jj take y/n and check out scott anderson.” hotch says looking at jj his arms finally by his side.

jj nods standing up walking towards the door “ i-i can go” spencer says turning his body towards jj. “ stay.” hotch replies his voice stern and bold. he looks at spencer his eyebrows furrowed.

jj closes the door. “ sit.” hotch says to spencer pointing to the empty seat at the table, spencer slowly walks towards the seat sitting down. “ you shouldn’t have said that spencer.” hotch says crossing his hands. “ hotch-” spencer attempts but is quickly cut off, “ i’m not finished. I get it. your worried spencer. your scared-”

“ hotch-” spencer is cut off once again. “ you may think your hiding it well spencer but your not. we know the unsub is targeting female victims which have similar features to l/n. if your too close to the case spencer-” it’s spencer’s turn to now cut hotch off. “ but i’m not too close to the case hotch!” spencer replies. he wanted the similarities between you and the victims to only be in his head because he wanted only him, himself to notice the similarities between you and the victims. you both have the same hair color, hair length, both considered to be attractive, both have similar personalities, and similar taste in clothing. he didn’t want it to be true. but now he knows that they are, and they’re not just in his head he’s even more worried.

“ your stuttering spencer. you do that when your worried or nervous.” emily says pulling a chair from the table. spencer shoots his eyes away from hotch to emily’s. his gaze softens a bit, emily’s tone wasn’t like hotchs. it wasn’t as stern or bold. it was rather understanding and gentle. “ i just cant control myself around her.” spencer says looking down at the picture of the fourth victim who had been wearing the exact same pair of converse your wearing now. “ well your going to have to learn how to control yourself pretty boy. you shouldn’t have said that.” morgan says looking at spencer. spencer sighs hiding his face in his hands. “ i just..god i’m so stupid.” spencer groans rubbing his tired eyes.

“ stupidity is what ended my third marriage.” rossi says crossing his hands leaning against the bulletin board with a small chuckle, morgan looks at rossi and laughs. “ well thank god pretty boy isn’t married. he’d be the new rossi.” morgan says tilting his head to the side looking at spencer trying to lighten the mood, spencer who still has his head in his hands. there’s a million thoughts going through his head, all of them are about you. all of them are about how he should apologize. is he even allowed to apologize? will you let him apologize to you? would you accept his apology? what if you didn’t? did he just ruin his friendship with you? no screw friendship, he doesn’t just want to be friends. he wouldn’t be as sensitive as he is to this case if he just wanted to remain friends. he’s in love with you. spencer reid is in love with you. and he just potentially ruined any slight chance of ever having you know that he loves you. just because he’s stupid and didn’t think before he spoke.

“ are you okay?” jj says both hands on the steering wheel turning around to look at you next to her, in the passenger seat. your heads turnt towards the window, your picking at your nails. a habit of yours. you turn to look at jj and nod. “ yeah i’m fine why wouldn’t i be?” you ask tilting your head to the side with a confusing smile. you know exactly why your not okay. but for some reason, you just can’t bring yourself to actually be upset over it. what’s there to be upset about? what spencer said is true. he’s not wrong. why are you making excuses for him? what he said was not okay. totally not okay. why do you have to make excuses for every male figure in your life for when they’ve done something wrong? why do you always make them the victim and you the villain. you just don’t wanna lose them right? because you know that if your the victim and their the villain they’ll never apologise and the entire relationship will disappear, it always does.

“ what spencer said-” jj is talking in that tone, that tone that she would speak in whenever something was wrong. in a motherly kind of tone. you immediately shake your head, “ it’s- it’s fine jj really, i don’t care. can we just please forget it ever happened? lets just work on the case.” you say running a hand through your hair biting your lower lip trying to stop your voice from trembling, you know when your about to cry and you have that heavy feeling in your throat? you swallow it hard. you turn your head to look at the window not waiting for a response from jj. jj clears her throat, “ no yeah of course.” she nods smiling turning her head back around.

“ this should be it…” jj mumbles stopping the car, parked infront of a 2 story cabin. you unbuckle your seatbelt and open the car door. “ it looks like no one’s home, there’s no car. we profiled that the unsub would have a van or a truck..” jj says closing the car door looking at the house. “ maybe he wouldn’t leave something so valuable to him outside, to the eye of the public. he’s possessive he thinks the entire world revolves around him he probably thinks someone would try to steal it.” you reply reaching in your pocket for your id. jj doing the same thing. you two walk to the front door, you in the front,

you knock on the door. you put your hand against your hip waiting for the door to open. “ we should ask the neighbours. maybe they’ll know-” you knock on the door again. “ scott anderson. fbi.” you say knocking on the door again. jj puts both of her hands on her waist. “ looks like he’s not home-” your cut off by the door swinging open.

you immediately turn your head around. “ scott anderson?” you ask looking at the man infront of you. you know it’s scott anderson, penelope had already sent his id picture on the drive over. he looks at you, then looks at jj. “ who are you..” he says looking directly at jj. “ i’m agent l/n with the fbi and this is agent jareau. do you mind if we come inside?” you ask smiling holding up your id.

he doesn’t even bother looking at your id. “ yeah whatever.” he moves to the side, making room for you and jj. you nod turning around to look at jj. she nods. you step inside jj following you.

“ do you live alone?” you ask analysing the house, its organised. weird for someone that’s his age. “ uhm yeah i do. what’s wrong with that?” he asks crossing his hands. you chuckle, “ no no nothings wrong with that, i also lived alone when i was 17.” you reply smiling. “ i’m 19.” he says looking at you, eyeing you up and down smiling. “ your pretty organised for a 19 year old.” jj says raising an eyebrow also crossing her hands smiling. “ guess i was just raised that way.” he replies rubbing his lips together. you nod. “ how were you raised scott..if you don’t mind me asking.” you say looking around the house. “ yeah scott how did you manage to score such a house at your age. do you work?” jj asks grabbing a picture frame. “ no i don’t work-” he turns to look at jj. “ put that down.” he snaps speed walking to jj. you immediately reach for your gun.

“ right..sorry. you don’t like people touching your stuff.” jj replies throwing her hands up in defeat. he snatches the picture frame. he grabs it caressing it gently, jj looks at you with wide eyes. you raise an eyebrow in confusion. “ scott. why do you have a picture of my colleague framed?” jj asks looking at the frame scott’s holding. your eyes widen.

“ oh god oh god. where’s y/n and jj?” penelope says aggressively tapping on her keyboard. “ what? what’s wrong?” spencer is the first to respond shooting up from the office chair just at the mention of your name. “ they’re at scott anderson’s why?” hotch says turning around, away from the white board to the tv. garcia starts tearing up, “ i-i did some deep digging and scott anderson has a blog about y/n..” garcia says in a shaky tone. no. no. no. no. no not again please.

his heart stopped for a split second. his hand start sweating. the air has been sucked out of his lungs. why is it so hard to breathe? why is there no air to breathe? there’s a million thoughts running through his head, they’re still about you. but now they’re worse. your in danger. your with the unsub. the unsub who has already killed five people. your in the same house with the unsub. the unsub who has a blog dedicated to you. and the last time you saw spencer you were teary eyed. no it can’t be the last time. no. please be safe.

his sweaty shaky hands reach for his phone. he clicks on your contact. hotch grabs his phone and immediately calls jj. spencer immediately puts the phone up against his ear. it rings. rossi and emily immediately stand up, “ penelope send us the address to scott’s house now.” emily says walking to the door. it’s still ringing. spencer starts biting his nails. his hearts pounding. the ringing of the phone case is haunting him. what is happening on the other side of the phone. why aren’t you answering. you always answer the phone. why is it still ringing? y/n why aren’t you answering.

“ god damn it!” spencer shouts into the phone as it keeps ringing. morgan stands up, “ hotch we gotta go.” he says standing up shoving his phone into his pocket.

the ringing stops. spencer’s heart stops. his breathing stops. everyone in the room looks at spencer waiting for any kind of confirmation. “ y/n you’ve gotta get out of there with jj!” spencer says stuttering with a shaky voice. hes scared. hes so so scared. hes never been more scared in his life. it’s quiet. why is it quiet? why aren’t you answering? what’s wrong. god y/n.

“ hey mom.” you reply. spencer takes a deep breath in. he stops biting his nails. he wipes his wet fingers on his pants. his hearts racing. your in danger. why are you calling him mom if your not in danger. oh god. he feels like he can’t breathe again. he can’t focus. he can’t do this. he can’t do this. he can’t do this without you. breathe spencer. she’s in danger spencer. she’s all that matters.

“ y/n. god i…” he chokes. “ you already figured it out didn’t you.” he says his throat feeling scratchy. he hears you giggle on the other side of the phone, your laugh erupts the butterflies in his stomach. under any other circumstances he would absolutely hate the butterflies in his stomach and would be mad at you for making him feel such way. but now they bring a sense of comfort, they make him feel normal for a split second. that this is not that big of a deal, he’s just calling the girl he really likes and he got butterflies from hearing her beautiful laughs.

“ yeah of course. i called aunt lizzie for her birthday mom i’m not stupid.” you respond. god your voice is so beautiful, but he can hear it. he can fear the slight fear in your voice. maybe other people wouldn’t hear it, but he can. spencer can. and it’s killing him. it’s tearing his heart apart. it’s making his legs shake. “ d-did he hurt you- is he gonna hurt you?” spencer says gripping his jeans tightly. he hears you laugh again, “ yeah mom.” you say.

he feels his legs going weak.

seriously part 3 please😍

Stacy’s mom pt 2

My Masterlist

Pt 1 here

A/N: Hellloo👀 it wasn’t planned but…here’s a pt two of stacys mom because, well…no reason. I just really liked the first part and a few people wanted another part so😉😋 please reblog and leave feedback 🙏

Summary: Steve finally turned 21. And he still remembers your words. Come back when you’re 21. So what next?

Warnings: older reader, Steve is 21, teasing, alcohol consumption (just one wine glass each), oral sex m receiving, slight daddy kink, cum play, cum marking, squirting , p in v, unprotected sex, doubts, insecurities

“Steve? What-“ “You said to come back when I’m twenty one…so, can I take you out on a proper date now?”, he interrupted you, holding out his ID for you to look over.

He was indeed twenty one. Today was his birthday.

And that’s how you found yourself here. Getting ready for a date with Steve Rogers. Your daughters old highschool friend. God, was that pathetic? Was it weird? You couldn’t decide how you thought about it, but with every word it got worse and worse.

Sighing you looked at yourself in your favourite blue dress. You had worn it years ago to a date-which had turned out into you being dumped. From then on you hadn’t worn this dress but you also remember how much Steve had liked it-yeah, he had never been subtle about his crush. Not even a bit. A smile crept onto your lips when you remembered his many compliments, and also hated how your ex-husbands surname sounded from his lips.

“Oh wow, Mrs Dupont you look amazing. This colour makes your eyes pop-and the make up, incredible. Any man would be happy to take you out on a date. I’m sure he’ll- ouch Stacy! Don’t kick me-“

“Aren’t you tired of wearing high heels all the time? I mean, I get it, your legs are beautiful with them but even without you’d look good-“

“Is that a new haircut? It suits your face so good, Mrs Dupont”

You also remembered how Stacy had pulled him away or kicked him under the table at that, making you cringe slightly. What would she think of it? What if she’d be mad? That’s not even a question. Of course she’ll be mad. You’re twice his age and to that he was Stacys friend-or is? You had no idea. God, you had no idea what the hell you were doing.

Ten minutes before eight a car pulled up at your house and the door bell rang only a few minutes later. Walking over to door you looked one last time in the mirror in the hallway, pulling your eyebrows slightly together. God…People would rather assume you’re his mother. Which you could be looking at the age gap. Sighing you brushed your hand over your cheek to the corner of your eye, where already some smile wrinkles appeared.

Why was Steve so attracted to you? He waited three years to go on a date with you…

For some reason it warmed your chest a bit. It was actually really flattering.

Opening the door you gasped in surprise, a huge bouquet of roses beeing held up tight to your face. “Hello”, Steve’s gentle voice and smile made your heart flutter. “Hello, Stevie, you got me flowers?”, I asked in surprise, not remembering the last time I become a bouquet like that, probably somewhat in the begging of your marriage with Stacys father.

You saw a little blush creep over Steve’s face, even though most of it was hidden by the beard. “Yeah, you deserve nice things…”, he smiled when you took the bouquet and walked back into the house, leaving the door open for him. He followed you into the kitchen where you looked for a vase, after finding one filling it with water and putting on the table with the roses, “thank you, they’re beautiful”, you smiled, your gaze falling from the flowers to Steve.

Steve was eye candy from the higher shelf, he looked incredible, dressed in a suit and black button down. His beard was trimmed and the hair in a neat hairstyle . Nothing was out of place, not one small wrinkle or hair strand. But what him made look so good was probably the bashful and nervous smile as he looked you up and down. Steve loved your dress years ago and still did now. He had always dreamed of you at his arm in that dress. The colour was one of his favourite, maybe after tonight his favourite.

Coming closer Steve carefully placed his hands on your waist and leaned down, giving you a kiss on your cheek.

You had to be honest…it made your heartbeat quicken like never before from just a single kiss, to that on the cheek. It was sweet. Innocent. Just a small peck. He wasn’t demanding or trying to be in any way pushy.

“Let’s go, I made a reservation for us”, steve smiled, holding out his arm for you to take. A smile crept onto your lips as you wrapped your fingers around his biceps, unintentionally squeezing a bit more than necessary. Jesus, his arm felt- no, stop lusting over him.

Head shaking over yourself you let Steve lead you to his car-a truck, not something you liked driving in, but you wouldn’t complain. You knew the young kids liked trucks-god, did you just refer to him as young kid?

It actually surprised you when he opened the car door for you and helped you step into the car-but you were really thankful for that seeing how high the car was.

When Steve started the engine the radio immediately turned on, some older song playing. A few seconds later you recognised the melody to be ‘a long, long time’ which made you smile to yourself. Steve listened to that kind of music? Oldies? Huh. That was quiete the surprise…but a good one. An old soul in a young body, maybe.

“I like the song, Is it your Playlist?”, you then asked, looking form the side at the blond man. He smiled lightly, nodding. “Yes, I love that type of music…it’s just…I dunno, it’s calming”, he explained, turning the volume a bit higher.

Most of the car ride was spent quietly with both of you humming to the music that was from his surprisingly good playlist.

Around twenty minutes later you arrived at a rather higher praised restaurant that you definitely hadn’t expected from him, but it did make you feel nicely treated-not because of how classy and expensive this place was-more because of how much Steve wanted to impress you on the first date. Not that it was necessary because…this wouldn’t be going any further, right? Just one date and that’s all.

Just when you wanted to open the door Steve took your hand. “No-wait”, with that he quickly left the car, before walking around and opening the door for you and holding out his phone to you.

A chuckle escaped your lips as you placed your hand in his palm, for a second a thought occurred to you; how long did it take for Steve to stop being such a gentleman in a relationship? You’d never find it out….but it still made you curious. Your ex husband had stopped treating you like that soon after the pregnancy.

When you stepped out of the car Steve closed the door and you both walked to the restaurant, where a waitress walked up to you and lead you to your table. Steve pulled your chair back for you, then sat down in front of you. All this time he had a big smile on his lips as he watched you.

Happy and completely content about finally having you taken out on a date. It was a indescribable feeling.

The waitress gave you both menus, her gaze glued to Steve so long she nearly hit you with one of the menus. Of course she was watching him. She had no idea he was your date. She maybe even assumed he was…your son. God, this was a mistake. A huge mistake.

Sighing you looked down at the menu as the waitress asked what you’d want to drink. “Please the [_____] red wine for me and for Appetizer the fried jalapeños with breadsticks”, you said and looked back at Steve who was already looking at you. “Is it okay if I Take something alcoholic? We will be here for a while so you don’t have to worry about me being drunk or anything”, he made sure before ordering.

You thought about it for a second and nodded, then. If your evening would turn out shorter you could drive, you weren’t planning on anything besides the glass of wine. “Good, then red wine for me, too. And bruschetta for Appetizer”, Steve ordered, smiling at the young woman.

She furrowed her eyebrows slightly, before smiling at him bashfully. “Well…Im sure you’re allowed to drink but I have to follow the rules, so may I see your ID?”, she asked making the both of you blush. You immediately looked down, hiding your face a bit behind your open menu.

Steve took out his wallet, reaching for his ID which she immediately took and looked over for longer than necessary-you could feel her gaze on you for a moment, but when you looked up she was already smiling at Steve again.

“Okay Steve, a wine it is, I’ll bring you your food and wine soon, if that’s all. Anything for you, ma’am?” Hearing her refer to you that way made you feel even worse than before and you were 100% sure she did it on purpose.

It was a huge mistake to go on a date with a man this mich younger. Closer to being a teenager than a man, if you had to be honest. And Steve had to know it too. How could he feel comfortable with you on a date? The waitress probably assumed you were his mother. Or maybe she was now laughing with her friends about-

Steve’s gentle touch at your wrist made you look up from the menu, which you hadn’t been even really looking at. You had no idea for how long you’ve been staring at the same page without having read a single word.

“Don’t do this…don’t overthink it, please…let’s just enjoy the evening”, said Steve gently, holding your wrist. His own menu was already put aside. “I’m sorry Steve, it’s just…you’ve seen how she looked at us-or rather me. At you she was looking with heart-eyes”, you mumbled while putting your own menu now aside, too.

Steve bit his bottom lip at your words, hiding a small smile. It sounded a bit…like you were jealous. Of course he knew you meant the age difference, but he couldn’t stop himself from slowly grinning more. “Oh come on, I don’t care about what she said-and you shouldn’t either”, he said, slowly brushing his hand over yours and squeezing.

“You have no idea how happy I am that you agreed to the date, I…actually thought you would have changed your mind at this point-or maybe that you’d already be with someone. A woman like you should be alone. You should be cherished by the right man”, he kissed your knuckles, all this time looking in your eyes.

And for the first time since you couldn’t remember when, you blushed over a man’s compliment.

A quiet ‘oh’ escaped your lips while you slowly started smiling a bit bashfuly. “Thank you, Stevie, that’s…really kind.” You wanted to add something more when the waitress came to your table, putting down the wine glasses forcefully making you both pull back in surprise. You both hadn’t even noticed her coming.

“I’ll get your Appetizer in a minute”, she smiled at Steve, not acknowledging you before once again leaving you two alone.

Steve watched her with furrowed eyebrows before scoffing quietly. “That was rude”, he said, his gaze back on you. He slid his hand along the table closer to you, his palm up. Inviting. You were uncertain if you should take his hand, knowing the young waitress would be back soon, but in the end you decided to gently place your hand in his.

He smiled at you happily, his eyes carrying a happy glimmer in them. “What have you decided to order? For the main course?”, Steve asked, adding after, “I’m thinking about the steak with fries.”

“Hmm, at first I thought about the salmon but steak sounds good…maybe I’ll take the steak instead”, you thought, looking into the menu once again. “Oh or shrimps…god, I don’t know I’ll take what the chef recommends. That way I won’t have to decide”, you laughed, shaking you head at your own inability to choose.

Steve chuckled and opened his mouth to answer but the waitress from before came. “So what would be for the main course?”, she smiled at Steve, before looking at you for a second but then quickly back at the blond.

“For my beautiful lady what the chef recommends and for me the steak”, said Steve without hesitation, squeezing your hand when he noticed how unsure and insecure you seemed because of the young woman.

She seemed to be speechless for a second, before nodding and writing the meals down. “Of course. Anything else?”, this time her gaze was stubbornly glued to her little notebook, not wanting to look at neither Steve or you.

When she finally left Steve couldn’t hold back the small giggle before winking at you. You still were slightly speechless from what he had said…his beautiful lady. That was…

He was really a sweet guy.

A part of you knew you shouldn’t feel this thrilled and happy, but another part was falling for him faster than you imagined possible.

———————

You stayed at the restaurant for about two hours, enjoying your meal and the many interesting or silly conversations you had. All this time you weren’t interrupted anymore, or if you were then by a different person than the girl from before.

After you two ate your food and even dessert Steve paid for everything-surprising you, which you tried not to show. You hadn’t really expected him to pay for everything even if he was the one who had invited you to the date.

While leaving the restaurant Steve wrapped his arm around your waist, leading you to the car. Once again he opened the doors and helped you into the car, a true gentleman. On your way back home he turned on the same playlist as before, this time a bit quieter.

Even when you arrived at your home he helped you out of the car, walking you to the door and waiting till you opened the door. He didn’t pressure you into walking in after you when you opened the door, he just stood there and smiled at you, his hand burried in his pockets.

“I…I had a really great time tonight”, he said, now much more nervous than during the whole evening. That was the part where you’d tell him it couldn’t happen again. This was there part where you broke his heart, this time for real, without any hopes for the future.

And yet something different left your lips. “Do you want to come in?”

It seemed to have caught you both off guard, but Steve nodded slowly, once again starting to smile at you. “Yeah, I’d love to”, he said and stepped into your house when you walked in. He closed the door behind himself and turned around to you.

Once again to your both surprise you grabbed his button down and pulled him closer to you, your chest touching, his arms immediately wrapping around your middle as you crashed your lips into his, kissing him passionately.

He gasped in surprise, but kissed back, even though slightly more sloppy, not having been prepared for it at all. You leaned back for a second, searching for any sign of discomfort or reason to stop, but before you could change your mind Steve leaned down again, kissing you even more enthusiastically.

You couldn’t stop the quiet gasp that escaped your lips when your back hit the wall with a light thud, Steve’s hands sliding to your behind before lifting you onto his hips. Automatically you wrapped your legs around his middle.

The last time someone had lifted you like this was a long time ago-and never did it happen so effortlessly, which kinda gave you a little confidence boost and also woke some primal part of your brain up that wanted to feel his strength in every position possible.

God. You were so lusting over him.

“Holy shit, Stevie-“, you gasped when he started kissing your neck, walking with you to the living room, his shoulder bumping into the door frame. “Wait-bedroom, go to the-the bedroom”, you gasped out, pressing his face further into your neck.

He looked up at you, pulling his eyebrows together. “Really?”, he asked quietly, confusing you slightly. “Yeah, really. It’ll be more comfortable.”

In the bedroom Steve carefully put you down on the bed, leaning over you and once again kissing passionately. This time it was a bit softer than before. When he let go of you once again he smiled down at you, standing up again and taking off his suit jacket, throwing it on your armchair.

He then looked back at you, his hands trembling as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “Everything okay, Stevie?”, you asked, sitting up and pulling him a bit closer, still looking up at him.

“More than okay-I’m-I’m really happy about this evening, I’m just…nervous. I’ve never been with an experienced woman like you and- ""But it’s not your first time ever, is it?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking.

He slowly shook his head, his hands stopping unbuttoning the shirt as he got to the middle. “No, not my first time but…I only had sex two times”, he said, burying his hands in his pants pockets.

You slide to the edge of your bed, your hands brushing over his thighs up to his stomach and you slowly open the rest of his shirt. “Do you want to continue?” Before you even finished the question he was already nodding furiously, watching as your hands slid down, over his bulge. A quiet moan escaped his lips and you couldn’t stop the grin creeping on your lips.

“Have you ever had someone suck you off?”

His face took on a dark shade of red as he slowly shook his head. “No”, he mumbled, watching as your hands slowly opened his belt and zipper, pushing his pants down.

“Would you like me to do it?”, just like before he nodded furiously, making you laugh quietly. Your giggles quietened as soon as you pushed down his boxershorts, his cock springing free, not even fully straightening from the weight. Fuck. He was huge. Definitely not how you had imagined him-not that you have done it often but…still.

It was a surprise.

A good one.

You wrapped your fingers around his cock, your palm not even fully closing around him as you slowly pumped him, the pre cum immediately leaking from his tip into your palm, making the movements a bit smoother.

His hand brushed through your hair when you leaned down and licked over his slit, making him moan quietly. The feeling of your wet and warm tongue indescribable. You licked along his shaft to his balls, pushing his cock against his stomach to have better access to his tense balls.

You hadn’t done much and he was already ready to burst. How cute. “Stevie you gotta hold it back for a bit longer so I can really make you feel good”, you grinned seductively, before sucking one of his balls into your mouth, your tongue playing with him before once again letting go with a loud plop.

He gasps quietly, nodding. “Y-yeah. I’ll try to”, he moaned again when you slowly started suckling at his head taking him deeper and deeper with every movement of your head, your hand rhythmically moving with your head making sure no part of his Beautiful cock was left out. Your other hand played with his balls, palming him gently.

After tonight your jaw would be sore for days, sof be your throat but it was definitely worth it. You couldn’t wait to feel his load fill your mouth-but not yet. First you wanted to make sure he’d for ever remember every second of his first blow job. Maybe you also wanted to make sure it’d be his best, too. No other woman was supposed to make him feel good. Definitely not better than you. Maybe…you should be thinking that way, but you couldn’t stop it. You wanted for him to always remember you when another woman would suck his cock poorly.

“Oh my-fuck, can you please suck my balls again?”, he panted, stroking your hair again. When your eyes met he couldn’t stop himself from moaning quietly again, his grip on your hair tightening. He imagined this view a few times if he had to be honest with himself-but never had he imagined it would look this good.

You slurped at his cock head for a second more before licking to his balls, suckling and pulling at them. His cock rested against your face, the pre cum leaving a glistening and wet trail behind, messing up your make-up, some even dripping onto your dress.

“God you’re so beautiful-and so fucking hot”, his hand started trembling, his panting getting faster. You could already tell he was coming closer to his orgasm.

It definitely made your chest feel tinglish, for some reason you were a bit proud of what was happening. You were the person giving Steve his first blow job.

“I think-I’m close-yeah, I’m close-take off your dress-I wanna come on your tits”, he moaned, stepping one step back, his own hand wrapping around his cock as he slowly started to stroke himself, his gaze glued to you.

Fuck. This was hot.

Grinning, you opened the zipper of your dress, pushing it down till you could throw it into the floor. Steve’s gaze slid over your body, stopping at your breasts when you took off your bra.

His lips twitched upwards as he watched you play with your breasts, pulling and pinching your nipples. “You’re incredible”, he moaned, stepping a bit closer to you again-his cock leaking pre cum onto your tits and then stomach when you leaned back on your elbows.

He closed his eyes for a second, trying to calm his breath before looking once again at you. His pupils were blown wide, his mouth slightly agape, his grip around his cock quick and tight. “Open your mouth for daddy’s load”, slipped past his lips, making him immediately blush. Just when he wanted to open his mouth again you chuckled quietly.

“Sure, daddy, I want your cock. Give me your cock, daddy”, you whispered back, keeping an amused grin to yourself. At least you tried to, but seeing Steve blush deepen you knew you didn’t succeed.

A silent moan escaped him as he was thrown to his peak, your words still freshly in his mind. He liked the sound of the word ‘daddy’ on your lips. “Oh fuck”, his cum hit your stomach and chest first, before he aimed higher for your face, especially your open mouth. The view of your cum stained face and body could make him bust again. This was definitely a view to remember.

As soon as he stopped orgasming he leaned down to you, cupping your face with his hands and pulling you into a breathtaking kiss, licking the cum from your lips and following the taste of himself in your mouth, “you’re fucking incredible”, he gasped into your mouth, slowly leaning over your body and pressing you further into the bed.

You grinned against his lips, pushing down his button down from his shoulders, revealing his beautifully sculpted body. “Oh god” “just Steve is enough”, he giggled at his pun, making you laugh quietly too. Your hands slid along his chest. “Wow, I remember-“ you bit your bottom lip at your next words. “I remember when you were still so skinny and rather…lanky”, you mumbled. How quickly time had passed…

Now that you were once again reminded of the age difference you weren’t sure if you really should be sleeping with Steve. You tried to tell yourself it would be just a one time thing. Something that wouldn’t matter to both of you, but….you could tell it was a lie. You weren’t sure what exactly feelings you had for Steve, but it was definitely more than just something platonic or lust.

During the whole evening you had a lot of fun with him-and you knew you’d have more, but not only sexually. Just talking and laughing was enough when it was with Steve.

“Are you okay?” Steve's quiet whisper brought you back as he gently brushed his palm over your arm. You hadn’t even noticed when he had laid down next to you instead of being above you. A small smile twitched over your lips as you nodded slowly. “Yes, it’s just ....I'm not sure what happens next-” Steve opened his mouth, slightly confused looking, but you quickly shook your head, “-not the sec part, silly. What would happen after? we can’t be together-I’m too old for you. People would watch our every step, everything we’d do together in public-they’d judge-and I don’t think you’d like to be with me forever. The difference is already noticeable, I have already some gray hairs and you-you’re so young and good looking.”

Sighing you closer your eyes when Steve brushed over your hair and pulled you closer. “I really don’t care about that…I like you. It doesn’t has to be…labelled…let’s just be with each other, we don’t have to be together…”, he mumbled, slowly kissing your cheeks down to his neck.

“Don’t think about it…let’s just enjoy it”, he smiled against your skin, leaving soft kisses behind. You couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto your lips as he pulled you even closer, your bodies pressed together, sharing the warmth of your skin. “This night is ours and what happens next…doesn’t matter”, he kissed you on the lips, passionately and rather…loving.

You slowly pushed him onto his back, throwing your leg over his hips. The feeling of his already hard cock poking against your leg made you grin a bit. You forgot how it was to be with a guy Steve’s age.

“You feel so good…Daddy”, you grinned against his ear, feeling a bashful smile on his lips as he kissed your neck again. “Stop it…”, he giggled looking at you again, his cheeks being already deep red. You smiled smugly, kissing his cheeks. “But it’s true, daddy”, you mocked him quietly, letting his dick side between your folds as you started grinding against him.

“Such a big cock for me, daddy”, you moaned into his ear, once again, mocking him. It was cute. Steve having a daddy kink…seeing how big the age gap was.

You wrapped your fingers around him, positioning him at your wet cunt. “Come on, make me feel it, daddy”, whenever you addressed him mockingly his blush deepened, a bashful smile crept onto his lips which was quickly replaced by a frown in pleasure as you slowly sank onto his cock.

When you were finally seated, his cock stretched your cunt perfectly, hitting and rubbing against every sensitive spot. “Oh fuck-so good”, you moaned bouncing lightly, trying to adjust to his size. You really couldn’t remember the last time you had been with a guy like Steve.

A few seconds later you started moving more, lifting yourself nearly fully up before slowly coming down again, gasping as his cock head rubs along your walls.

Steve himself couldn’t stop his moans anymore, grabbing your hips and fucking into you quicker, harder. “Oh fuck-yes-just like that”, you moaned in surprise, supporting yourself with your hands against his chest, your nails digging into his sculpted pecks, leaving behind red marks.

A small grin crept onto his lips as he noticed your surprised reaction. Steve wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you down onto his chest and slamming his cock deep in your quivering cunt, hitting your g-spot every time.

“Steve-I’m close-“, you moaned into his neck, your hands grabbing everything in reach-mostly his chest or the sheets. You felt your whole world collapse when the sudden g-spot orgasm rushed over you, your whole body shaking in Steve’s arms, your cunt squeezing him and pulling him in. Your juices gushed around his cock, making a mess.

You felt overwhelmed with every coming thrusts, still brushing your overstimulated g-spot. Steve’s grunts and moans close to your ear letting you know he was also getting closer to his orgasm.

It took Steve a few thrusts before his own body twitched, his load painting your pulsing and sensitive walls, all the cum leaking around his dick making an even bigger mess than before. Your and Steve thighs were covered in a mix of your releases, your sheets were dirty with cum.

And you felt better than ever.

A quiet laugh escaped your lips as you buried your face into Steve’s neck, inhaling his cologne. The smell being the same as years ago when Steve had hugged you to wish you a happy birthday-you remembered liking his smell. You still did.

Steve’s hands brushed along your back, scratching you gently before he slowly turned with you onto the side, his softening cock slipping from your messy cunt, making both of you gasp in pleasure and sensitivity.

“Let me get you a bit cleaned up”, Steve whispered against your forehead. You could feel the smile on his lips, the happiness in his voice.

And you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.

A blush crept to your cheeks when Steve pushed you onto your back and admired his messy work. The cum was still leaking from your cunt every time your walls throbbed, pushing out the mix of releases, “that’s so hot”, he mumbled, before leaning down and licking along your slit, getting a surprised moan from you.

“Wait-what-“ “I told you I’d clean you up-“, Steve grinned from between your legs before once again continuing, licking along your slit, dipping his tongue in your sensitive cunt. Quiet and needy whines escaped your lips as you grabbed onto his hair. “I thought you meant-something different”, you were interrupted by your own moan when his nose brushed your clit.

You hadn’t been eaten out in a long time, especially not with someone who actually wanted to do it-and Steve seemed very eager about laping and slurping at your cunt, his tongue pushing into you as deep as possible, following your taste. There was definitely lack of experience, but his eagerness made up for it. You were curious how many times he had done it before-but it was no time to ask.

Even though you felt unbelievably good, you also felt too overstimulated and another orgasm felt like it’d be too much for you, so you gently pushed his head away.

The sight made your cunt throb again. His cheeks were covered by a small blush, probably from the lack of oxygen since he really didn’t want to let go for a second from your cunt, his beard glistening, his pupils blown wide. Just when he wanted to dive in again you held him back by the hair. “I’m too sensitive”, you said apologizing, making you both chuckle quietly.

Steve nodded and sat up again, his cock already being half hard again but he ignored it. “I’ll clean up a bit, bring us some water and then we can…sleep? If you’d…if you’d like for me to stay. I get it if you’re not interested in more and if so, then I’ll leave-“ “stay…Steve, please stay tonight”, you interrupted him, taking his hand gently in yours.

He looked down at your hands for a second before coming back to your face. His lips twitched to a smile and he nodded. After giving you a quick peck on the lips Steve went to the bathroom, cleaning himself a bit before grabbing a water bottle from your fridge.

When he walked back into the room you had changed the sheets and were laying beneath the comforter, already being close to falling asleep. A bashful smile crept onto his lips as he slowly sat down at the edge of the bed, not being sure what to do.

You smiled up at him, pulling the comforter back and patting the space next to you. “I like cuddles after sex”, you whispered, the two of you blushing like teenagers after their first time. In a way you felt exactly like that.

Steve pulled you into an embrace, kissing your head gently before closing his eyes.

You both had no idea how happy you both were right now. After years of pining and fantasies Steve finally had his dream woman in his arms and you felt happy having a man who actually cared about you. The last time you felt this happy was in the beginning of your marriage…which would now be over twenty years ago, “good night”, whispered Steve into your hair, interrupting your thoughts.

“Good night, Stevie…or should i say daddy?”, you whispered, a smirk creeping on your lips. Without looking up you knew Steve was blushing. “I…got carried away for a moment”, he chuckled slightly embarrassed but still smiling into your hair.

It didn’t take you two long to fall asleep after the amazing, yet exhausting date. You haven’t been with such an enthusiastic man in a long time and it did take a turn on you.

Your sleep was interrupted in the morning by the slam of the front door. “Hi, mom! Are you home?”, you heard Stacys steps coming closer to your room.

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it!

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their greed truly sickens me (IT SHOULD BE MEE)

Hope Tumblr is ok with this one

Their greed sickens me.

THIS WAS SOOO🤪😗😌😇🙂😘😛😋😂🤣🥲😃☺️😋😛🤪😎😝😝🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 SPEACHLESSSSS

honey don't feed it, it will come back (Joel x F!Reader)

Pairing: Bodyguard!Joel x Sex Worker F!Reader

Summary: You run a brothel in the Boston QZ, devoting yourself to taking care of your girls. When the safety of one is threatened, you hire a bodyguard in the form of the surly Joel Miller to protect them. Little did you know that you were going to become his new favorite vice, and him your favorite addiction.

Warnings: MDNI Explicit Smut (oral f receiving, v fingering, Joel jacks off while going down on Reader, dirty talk, bit of a sir kink, bit of a brat tamer dynamic). Pet names (baby, darlin’, sweetheart). Alcohol/drug use. Sex work (Joel listens to Reader). Age gap (20 years). Mentions of physical assault (towards minor characters, never from Joel. Not stated to be sexual assault but it can be inferred as such, so please take care of yourselves).

Wordcount: 9.6k (how the fuck)

The world was fucked to all hell and back, and so what did men do in those circumstances?

“Oh fuck,” your customer was grunting as he fucked into you from behind, your hands on the headboard as it rocked against the wall to keep yourself up, breathy moans expertly leaving your lips to spur them on, even if you hadn’t felt an inkling of desire in years.

Yeah.

They fucked.

Fight or flight were often referred to in the first years following the Outbreak, a default of survival instinct that most everybody resorted to in order to survive.

But fucking was the much less talked about, incredibly prevalent third option.

It became clear in the Quarantine Zones that there was a need to be filled here, a way to satisfy that urge in a way that wouldn’t cause a barely held-together society inside high walls to erupt into chaos.

From this need, brothels made an appearance. While FEDRA had nothing to do with the establishments officially, they turned a very convenient blind eye to the street corners where women trying to make some kind of a living in the QZ took up their stations, tempting any lonely man who may wander by into a night of needed release.

It was a dangerous profession, in its own way. Contraceptives were long expired twenty years after the society collapsed, and even if a client pulled out at the best time and you were keeping track of your cycle, there was always the risk of being put out of work for around 9 months if you were unlucky.

And then came the obsession.

Clients could become far too eager far too quickly, addicted to the touch and feeling of a certain girl, mistaking lust for affection and lurking around those street corners before the night even came or, worse, outside the brothel doors.

You’d experienced it first-hand and through other girls, but it wasn’t until one of the younger ones came to you with a black eye and bruised jaw that you had had enough.

“Who did it?” you said in a low tone, breathing deeply in and out through your nose as you tried to control yourself, reigning yourself back in from the need to grab the gun you kept tucked in the top drawer of your rickety old nightstand and find who the fuck had laid their hands on one of your girls in such a way.

After years of being in the business, you had gone from only taking clients to keeping a watchful eye over the other women who made the same living you did. Your glory days were mostly behind you, but you still had your reputation, even after the incident that left you with a jagged scar that stretched vertically across the right side of your face, from above your eyebrow, down across your eye to just below your cheekbone.

Those clients you did still have preferred to fuck you with you facing away from them now, but you weren’t complaining. Not seeing their ugly faces as they used you to cum helped you dissociate, focus your thoughts on how well you were going to eat the next few days because of a few minutes of sacrifice.

The young woman whose lip was trembling as you held her hands gently in yours now was hardly past her early twenties, a sweet young thing who you had taken under your wing when she confessed needing a way to get some extra ration cards for her little brother who had gotten sick recently.

You had snuck Isabel some of your own ration cards with each of her payments, not caring that you had a bit less to eat each night, especially when she had come to you a couple weeks later with a bright smile and the news that her brother’s health had improved.

Now that smile that could light up the whole goddamn QZ was nowhere to be seen, an abject horror darkening her gaze, making her angelic face gaunt as you reached up to gently hold it, tilting it so you could assess the extent of the damage.

Her eyes, a deep honeyed brown that had drawn in the most clients your brothel had seen in years, were avoiding yours as you searched for her gaze, and you gently directed her face back towards you, voice softer as you implored her, “Isabel. Please, talk to me, babygirl.”

A choked sob was the first sound to leave her mouth then at the sound of your genuine affection. The world may be fucked, but protecting these girls was your purpose. And the thought of not being enough to protect them, for one of them to come to you like this…

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you whispered as her petite form collapsed against yours, holding her close as you smoothed a hand over the tangles in her hair, gently combing them out with your fingers as your other hand rubbed at her back. “It’ll be okay, love. You’re safe now. You’re safe.”

Even as you assured her, a fear was creating pressure in the back of your mind, causing the first of many sleepless nights as you tried to figure out how to make sure this could never happen again.

You sat at your little makeshift desk in your tiny room on the top floor of the brothel, a cheap cigarette you had just gotten from a couple smugglers perched between your fingers as you slowly exhaled the smoke, staring down at your incoherent scribbled notes.

With a groan, you pushed yourself away from the desk, standing to cross over to the small window on the wall, gazing out in paranoia to make sure there were no dark shadows lingering nearby, waiting to get a hold of one of your girls if they didn’t want it.

Glancing back down at the lit cigarette, you pondered your few options.

FEDRA was not a viable source for protection. Yes, they turned a blind eye on your activities, but they would never risk their image by offering guards for your girls. Besides, you didn’t trust anybody in one of those uniforms within an inch of your life.

Fireflies weren’t a fucking option either. Those jackasses were so far up the proverbial ass of justice that they couldn’t see the actual struggles of the real people around them, subjecting them to be collateral in whatever useless statement they were making lately.

The cigarette was raised halfway to your lip when you paused, staring down at it as you suddenly had a small epiphany.

Who did you know that had not an ounce of a moral code, but a strong work ethic and determination to get the job done for a good deal that promised a stack of ration cards?

A smirk curled onto your lips then as you brought the cigarette back to them, placing it in your mouth as you took a long drag, exhaling it towards the window and watching it fog up the glass as you realized exactly who you were heading to.

“We don’t do protection,” your smuggling contact was saying, her voice as gruff and no-nonsense as always, and you sighed, meeting her sharp green eyes straight on as you shifted to cross your legs.

“Don’t bullshit me, Tess,” you said flatly back, your voice not harsh, but definitely firm, calling her out on her bluff even as you saw her ever-present guard dog shift a ways behind her at your tone. “You’ll do anything for a good trade. And I have that.”

“I don’t wanna fuck your girls,” Tess dismissed, waving her hand as if to brush the thought away, and you rolled your eyes, even as you couldn’t help a smirk, glancing at your associate with a small hint of mirth that matched her own.

“I’m not offering that,” you replied honestly, slowly drumming your fingers at the small table you were both seated at in one of the back alleys where these deals tended to go down. Public enough to avoid a shootout, but private enough to avoid FEDRA breathing down your backs. “My girls get paid for their work. So would you.”

Tess raised an eyebrow then, leaning in just a fraction, and you knew that you had captured just a fraction of her attention.

Good. You could work with that.

“What are we talking?” she asked in a low tone, voice still disinterested, gaze still closed off, but you knew that would change when you laid out the conditions of the deal.

When you did—offering a heft of ration cards (that they didn’t need to know was almost your entire cut of the brothel’s proceeds) for an able body to keep watch at your brothel during active business hours—Tess leaned back again, eyes flickering over your face as she processed the information.

“You know I’m good for it, Tess,” you implored, allowing a bit of emotion to creep into your tone now as you meet her gaze, hoping she would hear what you were asking for, woman to woman. “And these girls…they need it.”

She frowned then, sympathy flashing over her face as she glanced over yours, hearing what went unsaid.

Tess began to turn her head slightly over her shoulder, though she didn’t bother sparing a glance back as she called, “Joel.”

That was the first time you think you’d heard the name of her silent, watchful companion.

You knew that they were a package deal, but whenever you met with Tess, he lingered in the background, making sure you didn’t lay a hand on her.

Good, you thought to yourself, glancing over at him as he pushed himself off the wall and strolled over just at the unspoken order she gave for him to approach. If he’s who she has in mind, hopefully he does the same for the girls.

It was also the first time you really got a look at the man who Tess finally introduced you, explaining to the both of you how this was going to work at the same moment.

With those thick arms that could be around your neck as fast as you could blink, hardened dark eyes that were already measuring you up and calculating at least six ways to take you out before you could even open your mouth to say hello, you knew that just the sight of him in your brothel would strike fear into the depraved hearts of meeker, cowardly men.

He was older, too. Maybe had twenty years on you, and if somebody had lived that long in the apocalypse, they had to know how to get their hands fucking dirty if they needed to.

“I’ll take him,” you said back to Tess after appraising the man who would be your brothel’s bodyguard, your attention only pulled back to the hunk of muscles when you heard him scoff at your words. “There a problem?”

“I’m not a piece of meat,” he grunted, expression flat as he stared at you, and you arched an eyebrow, unamused by his comment that came right after you and Tess had agreed to the terms of the deal.

“Hate to break it to you, but a bodyguard is nothing but that,” you replied as you gracefully uncrossed your legs, rising to your feet as Tess collected their first payment from you off the table, pushing it into her front pocket as she rose from her own seat as well. “Muscle that can drop a man at a moment’s notice.”

You watched as Joel’s strong jaw ticked, your other eyebrow rising with the first as you stepped around the table, getting closer to the man than you probably should, watching as his tense shoulders bunched up even more around his ears when you approached. 

“And now, you’re my muscle, Mr. Miller,” you said in a perfectly conversational tone, a practiced smile pulling onto your lips as Joel glanced down at them briefly before looking back into your eyes, his gaze narrowing as you added, “Pleasure to be doing business with you.”

Spinning on your heel, you strolled away from the smugglers towards the exit to the alley, but not without saying back over your shoulder before you got too far, “First shift’s an hour after curfew. Don’t be late.”

There was the sound of low grumbling behind you, followed by the smooth low tones of Tess’ voice, and you didn’t know why you felt the urge to laugh at that moment.

You didn’t know why, because you hadn’t laughed in years.

But you brushed that feeling aside, heading back towards your establishment to ready your girls for the change that would be coming in their worlds tonight, hoping that it would give them the peace of mind you all so desperately needed.

Whether you would be able to relax all depended on if Joel Miller could actually do his job.

He could.

One of the very first nights Joel had taken up station in the main hallway in the brothel that led off to private rooms, he had proven his worth, and then some.

You had been down the staircase in an instant when you heard the loud crash, heart racing in your chest, breath quickened from panic as you rounded down to see what had caused the loud sound.

Some thumps and bumps were common in an establishment like yours, but that sounded very much like a body not only hitting the ground, but being thrown down onto it.

What you saw then was an image that etched itself deep into your brain for the rest of your days.

Joel, your brand new, stoic bodyguard who hardly gave so much as a grunt to you or any of the girls he was hired to protect, had a half-naked man pressed to the old floorboards, knee digging right into his back to pin him down, a large hand keeping a tight grip on his neck to stop him from moving.

But what got your attention even more than the struggling client who Joel was snarling at as he roughly kept them down, was the girl who was standing behind him, arms wrapped around herself and subconsciously shifting to stay behind the bodyguard, eyes wide and relieved at the sight of him catching the out of hand customer.

You walked towards the scene that had drawn spectators in the form of clients and workers alike, peeking their heads out into the hallway to watch as you slowly knelt down in front of where the bastard was pinned so roughly to the ground that you weren’t sure he could even breathe.

Good.

You glanced up at Joel then, meeting his hard gaze with one of your own, and you gestured with a jerk of your chin towards the staircase leading down and out of your establishment that he could throw them out.

After rising to your feet, you paused next to Joel, watching from the corner of your eye as he grabbed the man roughly, yanking them to their feet and halting in his task only when you briefly laid your hand on his shoulder.

“Let him know not to come back,” you muttered under your breath, sending a sidelong glance full of unspoken things towards Joel, a tiny smirk curling onto your lips as the whimper of fear from the sick bastard and your bodyguard’s short nod let you know you’d been heard.

You walked straight towards your girl who had nearly been treated in a way you would not tolerate towards any of your women, wrapping your arm around her shoulder and pulling her against you, letting her sink into your warmth as you addressed the rest of the brothel that everything was fine, to resume their activities while Joel shoved the guy down the stairs as they started to beg for mercy.

Luckily, there weren’t many similar incidents after that one, letting you know the investment into a well-abled bodyguard for your girls had been more than worth it.

Because more than the concrete evidence of their safety, it was the palpable shift in energy at the brothel that reassured you that you had made the right choice not only in having a bodyguard, but in who you hired.

Joel never really warmed up to anybody, but all the girls had certainly grown fond of him. There were more than a few crushes on the emotionally unavailable older man who stood like a statue in the halls, ranging from innocent love to lustful fantasies.

There were a handful of times one of your girls had offered their services to him, some even trying to get him into a room free of charge, but Joel turned down every one—interestingly enough, it was never without kindness. Each time a proposition was offered, the detached bodyguard would give a slight shake of his head, mumbling a “no thank you, ma’am” in that deep Southern drawl that soon made almost every girl in that building buckle at the knees.

The fondness your girls had for Joel Miller became ingrained in the way the brothel functioned, and you knew that you couldn’t get rid of him even if you wanted to, even if that meant continuing to share a large portion of your personal livelihood with him.

And maybe you were crazy, but you thought that maybe Joel had a bit of warmth in that tiny, shriveled up heart for your girls, too. Sometimes he’d eye a client up and down before giving the girl with them a respectful nod and a polite murmur of their name as a greeting, and you didn’t know why the familiarity of the stoic man warmed your own barbed wire heart, but it did.

Maybe it was because after all the shit they’d gone through to survive long enough to reach this point, they deserved to experience an ounce of genuine kindness from a man, without having to think about what they had to offer him.

Still, Joel irritated you. Any hint of kindness he had for your girls was never shown towards you, but you didn’t let it get to you. You were his employer, and the only times you ever really interacted with each other were the few short seconds it took him to head up the stairs to your office, collect his payment with you and leave.

Besides, you weren’t exactly the most gentle with him either.

You’d taken up a habit of poking fun at your bodyguard, a little teasing here and there about things like his face getting stuck if he never unfurrowed his brow, a comment that only made him scowl further, the sight pulling forward again that urge from deep within your bones to laugh.

But you never laughed, even as you smirked up at him before turning on your heel and going on about your work keeping the place running smoothly.

That work mainly involved management and finances, but when you began to realize you soon wouldn’t be able to keep supporting yourself with keeping Joel on as a bodyguard, you knew you’d have to start doing something a little extra.

Time to go back to your roots.

For all his time working at the brothel, Joel had never seen you take a client.

In fact, he could probably count on one hand the amount of times he had seen you in the hallways, only to check on a few of the girls from time to time.

But most of the time you were holed up in that small office upstairs, the one he entered for a minute or two at a time, long enough for you to gather his payment and give it to him so he could be out of your hair—or, more accurately, to get you out of his.

Because fuck, you were irritating. You knew exactly how to get on his nerves, and Joel suspected you actually enjoyed doing so, for whatever goddamned reason.

Still, the job paid well. He was living with a bit more comfort in the QZ than he ever had before with those cushy extra ration cards.

And besides, he was actually, maybe a little bit attached to the girls who worked these streets. They were kind, just making a living in the best way they could, and needed somebody to protect them.

Maybe there was also a part of Joel that needed somebody to protect.

He had to admit though, for all his aggravation towards your mere existence, Joel did respect you. You were the person who kept this place up and running, the one who looked after every need of each woman, the lady who had cared for them enough to search for a protector to keep them safe.

Joel had honestly assumed that you didn’t do sex work at all, just judging from how you were never in one of those rooms.

But tonight, you were walking up the staircase from the base floor instead of down from your office, drawing Joel’s attention and subsequent confusion when he saw what you were wearing.

Gone were the baggy jeans you usually wore around the brothel, replaced by thigh-highs that enveloped soft skin he had never seen before. There were just hints of lace at the top of the hosiery from where the tight black dress hugging your curves rode up with each step you took.

It had to have been one of the least scantily clad outfits he’d seen down these halls, but something about the sight of you wearing it caused a lump to form in Joel’s throat, an itch curling inside his veins that needed to be scratched when you turned your head back, offering a sly smile different from any you had sent him towards somebody behind you.

When you ascended to the top of the stairs, Joel saw the man following you, his back stiffening for more than one reason.

The first reason was that he knew this man. Not personally, but he had seen them around—on wanted posters, specifically. They were a higher up in the Fireflies, one who had their eyes on every covert deal around the city, a puppet master pulling the strings.

But it was clear now that you were pulling his, a coy batting of your cunning eyes tugging him after you down the hallway, your body turned slightly towards him in a way that accentuated every curve of your body in its side profile, illuminated in the lowlights of the hall.

When you passed by Joel, eyes meeting his as they shifted into something darker—not lustful, but with clear intent—he knew the other reason he had suddenly snapped to attention.

This man was your customer.

That look you had given Joel, it was an unspoken order to keep you safe in case anything went south with this considerably more…“exclusive” customer, for lack of a better term.

You didn’t spare another glance back as you moved to a door at the end of the hall, one Joel didn’t think he had ever seen another girl enter, slipping into the room as the man followed behind you, and the door quietly clicked shut.

Joel stared at the spot where you had just been in the hallway, feet frozen to the ground until he slowly stepped forward, moving down to lean against the wall next to the room you had entered, following your silent order to stay close and keep an eye out for trouble.

All his time working in a building full of the sounds and smell of sex at every moment, Joel had been unbothered. The moans, the grunts, the cries of “oh fuck” and “I’m coming!” that would echo through the halls, the overpowering scents of sweat and cum when a door next to him would open and a satisfied client would walk out—he couldn’t give less of a fuck. It neither bothered him, nor turned him on to any degree.

But at the very first soft, breathy moan of yours that drifted through the thin wall his back was pressed to, Joel’s breath was catching in his throat, entire body stiffening at the alluring sound.

A few seconds later, there was another moan, longer than the first, and Joel’s head tilted back, resting against the wall as his jaw clenched to the point where it was almost painful.

He didn’t care, he told himself.

Joel had never cared before, he didn’t care now.

But it had never been you before.

You, the stalwart image of the establishment, all business and no pleasure, putting every other person’s needs before your own.

So at the thought of you giving into pleasure now, satisfying your own needs as the sounds of slow, rhythmic squeaking of a bedframe carried towards him through the door, your whimpering echoing the steady echo of skin slapping against skin—

“Fuck,” Joel whispered under his breath, eyes fluttering shut at a particularly loud moan of yours that reached his ears that had tuned in through the walls, and he snapped his eyes back open, straightening back up and realizing with a quiet groan from the movement how painfully hard he had grown in his jeans at the sounds of you being fucked.

He reminded himself then that this was your job. There was no guarantee you derived any real pleasure from it—to think that you did was a delusional male fantasy, and made him no better than the rest.

But his dick wasn’t listening to logic, only growing harder in his pants with the more lewd sounds that you made, and Joel sucked in a deep breath, rubbing a large palm over his face and shaking his head to himself.

You were no different from the others.

Just another girl to protect.

Joel didn’t want you.

“Oh, god, yes!” you were gasping in between keening moans now, and Joel bit down hard on his lower lip, feeling the chapped skin break and bleed a bit as his hand twitched at his side, the urge to do something about the erection straining against his pants so incredibly strong.

He could do it. None of the other girls were close to finishing with their clients. Joel could pull his cock from his pants right now and fuck into his own hand as he listened to you having sex, get himself off from the sounds you were making, imagining he was thrusting into you instead of his palm as you—

“Yes,” you whimpered, the sounds of skin slapping against skin rapid now, the bedframe inside your room slamming against the wall as you repeated yourself louder and louder, higher and higher, “Yes, yes, yes!”

Then you were crying out at the same time your client did, and Joel grunted, hips bucking up into his palm at the same moment he realized his hand had drifted there, subconsciously seeking relief from the ache of burning desire before he snapped his hand away.

“Fuck,” he huffed, shaking his head sharply and cursing himself at how he had nearly jacked himself off at the sound of you having sex without even realizing what he was doing. “Get it the fuck together.”

But his erection hardly eased up even as the minutes passed, and Joel had to fold his hands together, trying to casually hold them in front of the obvious bulge constrained by his jeans when your door opened.

The client walked out first, and Joel stared straight ahead at the wall opposite him, jaw clenching painfully once more as the man walked down the hallway, glancing back to send you a wave as you leaned against the doorframe, bending forward out of it to wiggle your fingers back towards him in goodbye.

Joel’s eyes snapped from how relaxed the gait of the man now was before looking over at you, sucking in a sharp breath at the tattered silk robe you were wearing, seeing the dip of your collarbone down to the soft curves of your cleavage, nearly catching a glimpse of the tempting pillows of your tits from the way you were leaning forward before he forced his gaze away.

You were watching him now—he could feel the familiar intensity of your gaze on him, and Joel resisted the urge to swallow thickly, struggling against the lump in his throat as you pushed yourself off the doorframe.

He expected you to head back up towards your office, preparing himself to keep his gaze off you when you walked past him in that temptation of thin fabric, when you surprised him by speaking.

“Want a smoke?”

Joel froze, his head tilting towards the sound of your voice subconsciously before your words even dawned on him.

When they did, he glanced towards you from the corner of his eye, seeing you were watching him with a thumb pointing back over your shoulder towards the room behind you.

The room you had just fucked a client in.

Oh fuck.

Joel cleared his throat, brows furrowed deeply as he looked back at you, and he half-expected you to make a comment about it like usual, but you were simply watching him with an impassive look, not a hint of emotion or motive he could try to decipher.

Before he knew what he was doing, Joel nodded, feet automatically moving after yours when you walked into the room.

“You can close it,” you said over your shoulder as you walked towards a nightstand next to the bed where—

Joel spun around, trying to control how rapidly he was breathing as he grabbed the door handle, pulling it shut behind him before slowly turning back to face the room again.

He had never actually been in one of them before, but he still should have expected the smell to be so much stronger in one—especially right after it had been occupied.

Still, the scent of sex pulled his attention right back to the bed you stood next to as you perched a cigarette between your lips—one he thinks Tess got you, he realized somewhere in the back of his mind—and Joel’s eyes lingered on dark spots on the mattress, forgetting how to breathe for a moment before your voice brought him back.

“Mr. Miller?”

His head snapped forward, eyes meeting yours to see you looking at him in a question he didn’t know that you were asking.

“Huh?” he mumbled so eloquently, wincing internally as your lips twitched into a small smirk around the cigarette in your mouth before you pulled it out, blowing it into the heady air of the room, nicotine joining the smells of sex and making the space tighter, hotter, before you paced towards a window on one wall.

“I asked if you wanted one,” you said slowly, and Joel just then noticed how scratchy your voice was—from the cigarette, the moans you were making not that long before, or maybe both.

“Uh—no,” Joel shook his head, watching with bated breath as your smirk towards him grew. “No thank you.”

His heart skipped a beat in his chest as you beckoned with the cigarette held delicately between your fingers for him to join you at the window. 

Joel did, almost automatically, cursing himself internally at his blunt eagerness to be beside you while you lifted the window to let some fresh air in, and he turned, resting his back against the open window pane, arms crossing over his chest as he watched you instead of observing the room any longer.

Not all that fresh, considering the perpetual staleness of the QZ air, but it did cut down on how overwhelming the aroma of sex currently was in that room.

If somebody was going to break the tense silence that had fallen between the two of you, Joel had expected it to be you, so he was surprised when the quiet words fell from his lips, “Didn’t know you took clients.”

You huffed out a laugh then, the stream of cigarette smoke leaving your plump lips in puffs with the action.

“The Mistress has to earn her keep somehow,” you muttered, pulling in another drag of nicotine to blow back out the open window, and Joel’s gaze snapped back towards you.

“The Mistress?” he repeated, eyes flickering over your face as he recognized that name in an instant.

Being a man in the Boston QZ, it was impossible not to hear about The Mistress. An elusive sex worker who was very selective about her clientele, but even still, the stories about her stretched far, the name representing the countless fantasies of every horny man who dreamed of a chance to get their cock wet with her.

His recognition must have been noticeable in the tone of his voice, because you lazily rolled your head back to look up at him, smirk growing fully across your lips, swollen from whatever you had been up to, and Joel nearly swore under his breath as he felt his cock stirring in his jeans again.

“You act like you’ve heard of me,” you murmured, tongue darting out to wet your lips before you placed the cigarette between them again, and Joel’s brain short-circuited for a moment before he could find the words to reply to you.

“I just—” Joel cut off, brows furrowed as he shook his head, as if trying to jumpstart his mind, get it to string coherent thoughts together again but Jesus fuck why were you looking at him like that, with dark hooded eyes he’d never seen from you before. “I mean, I’ve heard about her, but I didn’t think—”

“Why not?” you interrupted him before he could finish. The cigarette was back between your fingers, gesturing with it up towards the scar that stretched down one side of your face. “Because of this?”

Joel frowned then because, to his own surprise, he was offended that you would think he’d care about such a thing. That he’d judge your attractiveness off something as inconsequential as a scar, especially in such a time where such marks on your skin were proof of hard-earned survival.

Attractiveness. 

No, no, oh, fuck.

“Just didn’t know it was you,” Joel muttered gruffly, shrugging in a way that he knew must have looked incredibly stupid as he turned his face away from you, only to see the mess of shabby sheets on the bed, and those same dark stains on the fabric.

“Oh, so you have heard of me,” you were nearly goddamn purring the words now, in the same moment his mind was recalling those sweet, sweet moans you were making, the ones that had left your lips and resulted in the cum stains he was now staring at. “What have you heard?”

“They say you have the ti—” Joel cuts himself off again, feeling blood rushing towards his cheeks and somewhere lower, somewhere he should not be feeling any heat as he realized what he was about to say without thinking.

That you have the tightest, hottest cunt you could get in the whole QZ.

“They say I…?” you trailed off as you quietly repeated his words, and Joel’s attention flashed back to you to see you drifting closer to him, one arm crossed over your chest to prop up your elbow as you smoked your cigarette.

The way your arm pressed to yourself pushed your cleavage together to make an alluring dip, lifting your tits so they were almost spilling out of the open collar of the silk robe. Although the fabric was faded and tattered from the years it had survived, it may as well have been the richest texture in the world with the way it caressed your soft skin, taunting Joel as he struggled to look away.

When you shifted just an inch closer, one of the sleeves of the robe tumbled down your shoulder, and Joel sucked in an audible breath as more of your body was revealed, tempting him with how bare you were under that flimsy fabric.

He tried to look back up towards your eyes then, he really did, but the sleeve slipping down to hook around your elbow nearly revealed half of your chest to him. The only thing keeping him from seeing one of your tits completely was the way your forearm was pressed against your nipple.

Was it a peak right now? Were you as aroused as he was? Did you need him like he needed you?

Joel finally pulled his eyes up to yours, and when he saw the smug, knowing look in the heat of them, his desire flared into a fever pitch.

“They say you make sex an art,” his voice rumbled out from deep within his chest, and Joel hardly recognized it with the way his every word was coated in a thick need. “That your body feels like heaven, and you taste even better.”

You laughed at that, head tilting back with the action, and Joel was as distracted at the gentle, husky cadence that left your soft lips—how soft exactly, he wondered—as he was focused on the curve of your exposed neck as it led his eyes down your collarbone to the valley of your breasts.

There was a thin layer of sweat there, he just realized, and he wanted to dip his tongue between the soft pillows of flesh, tasting and tracing you, when your words pulled him out of his fantasizing that was quickly spiraling out of control the longer he was in this sex-tainted room with you.

“Those men don’t know a single fucking thing about how I taste,” you muttered, not bitterly, but simply matter-of-fact as you gazed out the window towards the dark lit streets of the QZ, taking another long drag of the cigarette.

Joel’s brow lifted, glancing over your side profile, noticing the way the deep red lipstick you had been wearing was almost completely faded, smeared a little at the corner of your mouth and down your chin, and coupled with the confession you had just made, he struggled with a sudden surge of an emotion he couldn’t name—or didn't want to, as it would surely become dangerous if he dared to entertain it.

“Seriously?” Joel found himself saying, and you turned back to him, your own eyebrows arching at the odd tone of his voice—almost appalled, but not towards you. “None of them?”

Your lips pulled back then, showing teeth in a grin that was nearly predatory, and Joel’s pulse raced as you answered with your own question, “You really think any man still alive wants to pay to go down on a woman?”

“I would,” Joel said in a heartbeat, and you blinked, surprise flashing through your eyes, and Joel hated the way his stomach flipped at the knowledge of catching you off-guard, as you were usually the one doing so to him.

“You’d pay for sex,” you repeated slowly, and although it was a question, you said it in a flat tone, disbelieving as you glanced up and down his body. “You. Mr. ‘I hate everybody and wish they were all fucking dead’ Miller?”

What surprised him the most out of everything tonight was the way you just made him laugh.

The sound was pulled from him so easily, tugged from his lungs towards you, and he sucked in a breath, as if trying to pull the sound back in as a dark look twinkled in your eyes from where they had fixed on the front of his jeans.

“Maybe you would pay for it, Mr. Miller,” you murmured, and Joel stiffened, his mind filling with a variety of curses in every language he still knew as you surely noticed his erection that still hadn’t fucking gone away.

Your eyes flashed back up to his, long eyelashes fluttering as you leaned forward, and Joel struggled to breathe as the forearm still covering the nipple of your almost completely revealed breast grazed against his chest.

“How would you prefer to take me, sir?” you asked breathily, and Joel’s chest began to rise and fall rapidly, brushing with your own nearly exposed chest with every fast breath he took as he tried to reign himself in, even as you started fucking seducing him. “Are you a fan of foreplay? Would you take your time and go slow with me?”

Your head tilts oh so slightly, hair tumbling down in a way that begged Joel to wrap it around his fist, as you continued to mercilessly tease, “No, I don’t think you’re one for taking it slow. Are you, Mr. Miller?”

Fuck, if you kept calling him that, he was going to lose his goddamn mind and take you right against that window sill if you would let him. He’d pay you all the fucking food rations in the world for a taste, just a taste of how sweet you’d drip for him when you came.

Because if Joel was fucking you, you were going to come.

“You like it hard and fast,” you whispered, your arm finally dropping from your chest, and Joel swallowed down a strangled sound as he finally saw half of your chest completely, your nipple hardened in the air before you pressed it against him and fuck, oh Jesus fuck, “I bet you’re rough too. Big man like you, you like to be in control. Probably gets off on taming brats, hm?”

Goddammit if you didn’t shut up he was about to show you just how well he could tame you, shutting up that pretty mouth by making you come again, again, and again, until all you knew to do was cry out for him every time he wracked your body with pleasure.

“But you’re not a missionary man,” you shook your head as it tilted the other way, bringing your face to hover inches away from his neck, and Joel shivered, actually fucking shivered when he felt your breath caress his skin as you teased, “You like a cowgirl, don’t you, Joel?”

That was the first time his name fell from your lips.

And at the sound of it, Joel lost any ounce of self-control.

His hands were on you in an instant, enveloping your waist in his large palms as he pulled you flush against him at the same moment he turned to push you against the wall.

You gasped, the dwindling cigarette falling from your fingers, and Joel lifted a foot to stomp it out, using his knee to nudge your legs apart with the motion. When his hips nudged against yours, erection pressing against the spot between your open thighs, he moaned at the feeling of your heat against the impossibly tight fabric.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized the robe you wore was completely open now, and your exposed cunt was pressed right up against his clothed erection, but his entire mind was focused on the way you also moaned at the same time he did.

“You keep running your mouth like that, I’ll show you how fucking good I can tame a brat,” he growled into your ear, one of his hands easily lifting your hip, dragging your folds across the bulge in his jeans, and he sighed as he felt wetness seep against the fabric. “Fuck, you this wet for me already, baby? Just from talking about how I’d fuck you?”

“I-I–”

Suddenly, no words were falling from your lips other than incoherent stuttering, and Joel smirked as he ducked his face against your neck, licking a path along the curve of it, groaning in need and irritation at the salt of sweat from your previous sex that still clung to it.

“Did you come for him?” Joel growled the question against your jaw, now directing your hips to grind against him in a way that put pressure to your clit, his eyes fluttering shut at the soft moan that left your lips—it sounded different than the ones he heard you make before, quieter, a bit huskier as opposed to so high-pitched—before he nipped at the skin just below your chin. “Answer me.”

“No,” you gasped, and Joel loosened his grip on your waist just a bit, wanting to see if you still chased that friction he had been providing against your clit.

When you did, grinding yourself against his clothed erection, Joel smirked against your jaw before asking his next question, “When’s the last time a man made you come, sweetheart?”

A shuddering breath fell from your lips to fan across his face, and Joel pulled back, looking down at how blown-wide your pupils were, his thumb brushing a strand of hair from your face as you muttered, “I—long. Too long.”

Joel wanted to smile at how you were already struggling to form full sentences before he had even started with you, but the anger he felt at you going so long without feeling an ounce of pleasure from being with a man made his jaw tick as he frowned deeply instead.

“Do you wanna come tonight, darlin’?” Joel murmured, his calloused thumb finding your bottom lip to gently pull it out, caressing the wet inner part of your lip while he searched your gaze. “I need you to answer me, sweetheart. I’m not doing anything unless you want me to.”

“Yes, Joel,” your voice nearly broke with the husky whisper, head bobbing in an eager nod, but Joel still waited to hear you say it clearly before he began. “I want you. Want you to make me come, please.”

A shuddering breath left Joel then, and he returned your nod, brushing his thumb across your lip again before pulling it back and leaning down to replace the digit with his own lips.

You were both moaning from the first moment your lips touched, kissing in a way that was much like how you always acted around each other—a battle for dominance, adding gasoline to the fire, but with an underlying respect that neither of you could shake even if you wanted to try.

“Fuck,” Joel mumbled when you allowed him access to slip his tongue inside your mouth, exploring every inch of it with a quiet moan that you echoed with your own. “Taste so good already, sweetheart.”

Every time he tried to pull away, you brought him back in with your lips chasing his, trapping him in another hot kiss, passion he didn’t think he could ever feel again building between you until he needed to taste more.

Joel finally tore himself away from your mouth fully, hands finding the opening of your robe to make sure it was pushed open completely, giving him access to every inch of your soft skin as he pressed kisses down your neck towards the perfect, perky tits that had been taunting him since you leaned out into the hallway.

His large palms cupped them, fingers stroking the soft flesh as he pressed them around his face, groaning into your skin at the feeling of being surrounded by them before turning his face to lap a path up the curve of one with his tongue until he reached that goddamn nipple that had been pure torture to nearly catch a glimpse of during your entire conversation.

Joel flicked his tongue over it, hips nearly bucking up as you gasped at the sensation, back arching to press further against his tongue when he flattened it against the stiffened peak. When he sucked it into his hot mouth, your fingers found his hair, tangling in the strands as you pushed his face further against you, and he moaned through a mouth full of your breast, teeth grazing against the sensitive peak before he pulled back to quickly do the same to the other.

Despite your teasing, he would take his time with you eventually. But tonight he was desperate, a drowning man gasping for air—but no, even that wasn’t accurate.

You were not the air Joel needed, but rather the unfathomable depths that he was drowning in.

He dropped to his knees between your spread legs, grunting quietly at the pain that ricocheted through his old bones at the action, but he couldn’t care less as he found himself facing your hot, dripping cunt.

Joel leaned forward, letting his breath fan across your sensitive folds as he lifted two fingers to run across your wet entrance, dragging the digits up to where you clit was already swollen with the need to be touched, to be pleased by him, and he smiled to himself at the sigh you exhaled above him from the sensation of his touch.

His fingers slid back to your entrance, dipping the rough pads of his fingertips into you just enough to collect more of your desire, spreading it along the lengths of his thick fingers as he swiped them up to your clit and began to rub in slow, tight circles.

You gasped quietly, hips rolling into his gentle ministrations, and Joel smiled against your skin when he ducked his face forward to press soft kisses along your inner thigh and up.

“Gonna take care of you, darlin’, don’t you worry,” Joel murmured against the mound of trimmed hair above where his fingers were slowly working at you, his lips moving down to replace them as he added breathlessly, “Gonna make you feel so good.”

Your hips bucked against his face when his tongue found your clit, a louder, breathless moan tearing from your throat at the heady sensation of his hot, wet mouth sucking around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Joel,” you gasped, nails scraping against his scalp as you grabbed his hair tighter, and he groaned around your clit at the feeling, pulling a delicious whine that sounded so much more real, more feral, more needy than the perfect, practiced ones you had made through the wall. “I—oh, fuck, that’s so good…”

He hummed around your clit before flattening his tongue against it, alternating motions until he found the rhythm that made you grind yourself against his face, and his palms found your hips to pull you up against him further, encouraging you to ride his tongue until you found your high.

“Come on, baby,” he murmured in between the moments when he’d suckle your clit, teeth gently grazing it as he resisted the urge to palm himself at the steady stream of moans and muffled curses that were echoing above him. “You can do it, come on. Soak my face, wanna taste your sweet cum.”

When you did just as he told you, Joel thought he really did see the gates of heaven, a sight he was convinced would never grace him after the lifetime of hell he had lived and caused.

He lapped up every gush of wetness that dripped from your folds in your release, dipping his tongue inside your entrance to drink you up, his thumb replacing his tongue on your clit, rubbing gently to prolong the waves of your pleasure.

Once the gyrations of your hips against his lapping tongue slowed, Joel pulled back from your cunt, your release glistening on his mouth and down his chin as he gazed up at your slack-jawed expression.

Your head tilted down, gaze meeting his as a lazy smile curled onto your lips, and Joel tried to ignore the way his heart lurched in his chest at the sight combined with the feeling of your grip loosening on his hair, fingers combing gently through the strands.

“Good?” Joel mumbled, turning his face to press a soft kiss on your inner thigh, and your head dipped down in a nod, humming in satisfaction as Joel smirked against your skin. “Good.”

His mouth opened, teeth gently nipping at your soft flesh, pulling an endearing squeak of surprise from you as he rasped, “Not done with you yet, though, sweetheart.”

When his tongue found its way back to your clit, his fingers went back to your entrance. This time, when he dipped one fingertip in, he didn’t stop, sinking into your tight, wet heat until the first knuckle, smiling against your swollen bundle of nerves as you rolled your hips into him at the sensation of his digit slowly filling you.

He gave a few slow pumps of his finger when he had sunk it in completely before pulling it out, chuckling around where he had sucked your clit back into his mouth at your whine at the loss of his finger before he added it back in with another.

“Fuck, can you feel you squeezing my fingers, darlin’,” Joel grunted against your cunt, lapping desperate licks against your clit, eating you out with increased fervor as his fingers pumped you faster at every mewling moan that left your lips, encouraged by the rolling of your hips to curl his fingers until he found the spot that nearly made your knees buckle.

His other arm wrapped around your waist, giving you support to stand while keeping you pressed to his face, not allowing you a moment of peace as his tongue worked mercilessly at you until you were coming around his fingers this time.

“Oh, fuck,” Joel was whimpering against your cunt this time as he continued to fingerfuck you through your high, sucking at your clit and drawing out every aftershock, his arm around your waist the only thing keeping you up now as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

“Joel,” you whispered hoarsely, fingers tugging at his hair again, and he pulled back to look up at you, his fingers stilling inside your cunt, but not sliding out of you just yet.

“What is it, darlin’?” he rasped, breath trembling as you stroked his lips with your thumb, collecting your own release combined with his saliva on it before raising it to your mouth to suck on, pulling a moan from Joel’s throat at the sight.

“Want you to touch yourself, sir,” you murmured, and Joel’s eyes widened, his fingers finally slipping out of your heat, reaching down to fumble with the button of his jeans at your permission he didn’t even know he was desperate for. “Make yourself cum just from the taste of me.”

“Jesus—” Joel couldn’t even finish whatever he was going to groan out as his hand wrapped around his cock once he pulled it out of its fabric constraints, eyes rolling back into his head at the relief of finally, finally doing something about the erection that had plagued him since he guarded you outside the room while you worked.

“Mouth on my pussy, Joel,” you ordered, and he was diving back into your folds without a second thought, sloppily thrusting his tongue inside your wet heat as his hand pumped his cock, your release still coating his fingers spreading across his length as he felt himself already rapidly approaching climax. “That’s it. You like the taste? You wanna come because I taste so good?”

Joel was nodding against your pussy, groaning into your folds as he lost any rhythm towards making you feel good now, but you didn’t seem to care, your hand in his hair still keeping him pressed to your cunt as you encouraged him this time around, “Do it then, Joel. I want to watch you cum for me.”

If you said anything else at that point, Joel couldn’t hear it through the blood rushing through his head as he came harder than he had in years.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he had felt an orgasm so intense, his vision darkening at the edges as he sucked mindlessly at your wet folds, hips bucking up into his fist as his cum shot out to paint the wall behind you before leaking out steadily over his hand.

You loosened your grip on his hair, allowing him to pull back with a gasp, sucking in air he needed to not black out as Joel’s blurry vision focused back in on your face above him.

There was a small smile on your face, satisfied in more ways than one, and Joel couldn’t help but match it with his own half-smirk as he focused on catching his breath before slowly pushing himself back up to his feet.

“Mm,” Joel moaned quietly as his lips met yours in a lazy kiss, one he wasn’t sure who initiated as he mumbled against your mouth, “Heavenly.”

You laughed then, and he felt himself brighten at the sound, though he tried to ignore it as you gently pushed him away from you.

“Come on,” you sighed, straying away from the wall towards the door on shaky legs while you tied your robe back up, making yourself decent enough as he tucked his dick away and zipped up his jeans. “I’ll get you your payment for today.”

There was a brief moment where you made sure nobody was lingering in the hallway before beckoning him out, and you both made your way towards the staircase towards your office while Joel tried to ignore the foreign thrill at the chance of being caught with you after what you had done together.

When you passed his payment to him, he counted out a generous portion before holding it right back out, earning a scoff from you at the offer.

“You’re not paying me for making me come, Mr. Miller,” you said with a sly smirk, and Joel tried to ignore how oddly disappointing it felt for you to resort to calling him that after tonight. “That wasn’t work.”

Joel slowly arched his brow, but nodded at your insistence, tucking his payment in his back pocket before rumbling out a quiet question of, “One-time thing?”

It wasn’t an offer, nor was he insisting that you did or didn’t do it again.

In fact, he was secretly hoping it would happen again, and Joel felt the treacherous anticipation for even more of you when your exhilarated gaze met his.

“Guess we’ll have to find out.”

taglist: @darkroastjoel @thetriumphantpanda @cupofjoel @dinsdjrn @cavillscurls @tightjeansjavi @sinsofsummers

Hii, In case you’re still taking requests, could you write about Bucky having wild, kinky, loud sex with innocent!reader and shocking the rest of the avengers because they had no idea the innocent reader was not as innocent as they thought?

yes. i absolutely can

protect her innocence

18+

Content Warning: Bucky x Avenger!Reader, bi!buck is a sexually frustrated oaf, reader is a closeted slut, sweaty post-workout!bucky, smut (breeding kink, daddy kink, mommy kink, rough sex, choking, spitting kink, degradation kink, face slapping, crying kink (is that a thing? it is now), dom!bucky x sub!reader, excessive amount of cum, creampie).

"God, I'm fuckin' horny."

The others burst into disgust and anger at Bucky's admission, while he slumps down in his seat.

"This mission is hard enough without your overly personal comments, Barnes," Natasha states with a glare. "We're stuck on this island for another week; control yourself."

"Yeah, keep that shit to yourself," Sam adds, before pointing at you. "Y/N's still here, ya know. Can you at least try to protect her innocence?"

You simply sit back and laugh, not bothering to say anything at all while they chastise Bucky for talking sexually in front of you. To be honest, you're fuckin' horny too, but you know your team would explode if they found out you actually have those feelings. To them, you're still just the newest, youngest recruit who probably doesn't even know what a dick looks like, and it's much easier to keep up that appearance rather than have your private life all laid out for them - like Bucky's is.

"I haven't had sex since I fucked that Bennett guy on New Year's," He goes on to complain, throwing his head back. "Fuck, I need to rail someone."

"Alright, Buck, that's enough," Steve says sternly, patting his shoulder. "Let's keep the downtime conversation a little more family friendly, how about that?"

Reluctantly, Bucky agrees and keeps his mouth shut for the rest of the evening, and the rest of you have a pleasant chat about future plans for once this damn mission is over.

Later, after dinner and once most people have gone to their rooms, you creep downstairs to find Bucky where you know he'll be: in the kitchen, post-workout and pre-shower, sipping on a protein shake. Tonight, he's wearing a sleeveless, black tee and some basketball shorts, looking as hot as ever.

Of course, you'd never admit that out loud. Having inappropriate thoughts about a teammate would be unforgivable.

"Work your arms again?" You ask, walking into the dimly lit kitchen and poking his biceps. "Why do you bother? Doesn't your body just... do that naturally? I thought that was the magic of the serum?"

He puts down the shake and side-eyes you, a small smirk pulling at his lips. "Not exactly, tulip. What are you doing up so late?"

"Can't sleep," You complain, leaning your back against the counter and looking up at him. "What about you?"

"About to shower," He answers, taking another sip from the shake.

You watch his throat bob as he swallows, and lower your voice, moving closer to him. "Wanna put a baby in me, instead?" You ask him softly.

Almost choking, Bucky widens his eyes, his lips parting. "What?"

Taking another step closer, you take his hands and place one on your waist and the other on your belly before standing on your tiptoes to reach his ear. "Please, daddy, give me a baby."

His breath hitches in his throat as he tries his best to process the situation, before deciding that trying to rationalize it is futile. This may just be a really vivid dream, Buck, so stop thinking and do as the woman asks before you wake up.

"Is that what you want, tulip?" He asks, bringing his hand up to cup your face as his eyes burn into yours. "Want daddy to fill you up, hmm? Fuck a baby into you?"

Your legs squeeze together at his words as you nod quickly. "Yes, please."

"Fuck," He whispers with a shudder. Without wasting another second, he brings his tongue to yours, kissing you hurriedly as though he's running out of time. His hand slips under the band of your shorts and he bypasses your panties, dipping his fingers into your honey-soaked cunt.

A shaky breath leaves your mouth as he starts to rub circles on your clit, making your pussy throb. He continues to press kisses down your neck, sucking on your pulse point. "Daddy," You whine, bucking your hips up as your hand moves to rub his hardening boner. "Please."

"What do you need, baby?" He murmurs into your ear. "Tell daddy what you need."

"Need- need you inside me," You answer him desperately. "Now."

Groaning, he fumbles with his shorts, pulling them down and letting his big cock spring out. Your mouth waters at the sight and you gasp when he brutishly rips your shorts and panties apart, leaving your bottom half bare for him. Lifting up your leg, he wraps it around his waist and brings his cock to your folds, covering it in your moisture.

"So fucking wet for me," He grunts, his eyes darkening. "Want me to make you a mommy?"

"Yes, daddy," You whimper, cupping his neck in your hands. "Wanna be pregnant with your baby."

Biting his lip, he falls forward to rest his forehead against yours. "Oh, shit, you're so fucking hot."

"Stop teasing me," You whine. "Fuck my tight, little pussy, daddy."

Unable to hold back any longer, Bucky does as you ask and presses his cock to your entrance. By now, he's 99% sure you're not a virgin, but he still takes his time in inching his way inside you.

"Fuck, daddy," You cry, throwing your head back as his girthy length stretches you out. "Haven't been fucked in so long."

Well, she ain't a virgin.

"No?" Bucky asks with a mutter, his eyes glued to the look on your face. "Want daddy to rail you, baby?"

"Yeah," You say coyly, biting your lip.

He smirks down at you, his lips parting as he bottoms out inside you. "Look at you. Taking my cock so well. You're a dirty little slut, aren't you?"

"Yeah," You agree between giggles.

His lips brush against yours as he chuckles, "Mmm, yeah. Filthy fuckin' whore." With that, he begins to rock his hips, fucking in and out of you. The sound of his balls slapping against your skin fill the kitchen, and likely echo all around the cabin. But you can't give a fuck about who can hear you right now. He pulls off your t-shirt, hypnotized by your tits before latching his mouth onto one of your nipples. Sucking it, he groans, sending electric waves through your body. "Can't wait until they're full with milk for me," He groans, rubbing your nipples with his thumbs. "Mommy's milk is gonna be so fuckin' sweet."

"Harder, daddy!" You cry as your eyes roll back in pleasure.

Growling under his breath, Bucky happily complies, slamming his cock into you. "That's it, baby, take my fuckin' cock," He orders lowly. "Gonna fill you with my seed, make you a mommy."

"Yes, Bucky!" You all but scream, before grabbing his face in your hands. "Spit in my mouth, daddy."

Slightly taken aback, Bucky raises a brow, never once slowing his thrusts. "Is that what you want, baby?"

"Yes," You reply instantly.

With an arrogant smile, he grabs the back of your neck. "Only good girls get daddy's spit. Fuckin' beg for it, slut."

"Please, daddy," You cry, feeling weak. "Please spit in my mouth."

"That's my girl," He grunts before pulling your head back. "Open."

Obediently, you open your mouth wide, buzzing with anticipation. Bucky leans forward and squeezes your cheeks together before giving you what you want, letting his saliva slowly pour onto your tongue. You moan immediately, your stomach fluttering with delight. He spits once more into your mouth before clamping your jaw shut, grinning when he sees you swallow.

"Fuck me," He mutters lowly, grabbing your throat as he thrusts harder. "Your filthy little pussy feels so good wrapped around me, tulip, so fucking good."

Taking his free hand, you bring it up to your cheek. "Slap me," You beg him with glossy eyes. "Please, daddy."

A glint of darkness flashes across his face as he presses his chest to yours, stroking your cheek. "You gonna be a good girl for me?" He asks you lowly.

Instantly, you reply, "Yes."

"Gonna let me fuck you whenever I want?" He questions you. "Use you like a fuckin' sex doll?"

"Yes, daddy," You cry out.

"Gonna let me get you pregnant, huh?" He presses, fucking you faster as his cock brushes against your cervix. "Gonna be a good mommy for me?"

"I promise, daddy," You swear, tears filling your eyes as every inch of your skin is drenched in pleasure. "I'll do whatever you want, whenever you want. Fill me with your baby, please."

Groaning, Bucky tightens his grip around your throat. "That's my good girl," He mumbles sweetly, before slapping your cheek with his free hand.

You moan at the sensation as the tears finally fall from your eyes. "Thank you, daddy."

"Yeah, that's it," Bucky grumbles, thrusting harder into you. "Fuckin' cry for me, you stupid little bitch." With that, he slaps you again, and you think you're in heaven. Leaning forward, he licks a stray tear from your cheek. "So fuckin' pretty when you cry for me, tulip."

"Oh, daddy," You moan melodically, feeling your pleasure build up. "I'm gonna cum."

Roughly, he grabs your face. "Not yet, you stupid slut," He growls. "You don't get to cum until daddy tells you to, got it?"

Frustrated, you whine. "Please, daddy, so close."

To your surprise, and utter delight, he slaps you again, glaring down at you. "Don't you fuckin' dare, little girl," He says gravely. "You wanna be a good little slut for daddy, don't you?"

Oh, you'd do anything for this man.

"Yes, Sir," You mumble, your mind totally blank. All you can process is your pleasure, and him.

"Louder, bitch," He spits. "I want everyone in this fuckin' cabin to know what you really are."

Throwing your head back, you cry out, "I wanna be daddy's good little slut!"

"That's my girl," He says proudly, slapping your cheek a couple more times, leaving your face sore as your cunt tightens around him. "You've been so good, baby. You wanna cum for me?"

You gasp with relief, meeting his eyes. "Daddy."

"I know, baby, I know," He coos softly, rubbing your clit while your legs shudder. "I know my little girl wants to cum, doesn't she?"

"Please," You squeak between sobs, burning for him.

The softness leaves his face as he clenches his jaw, slapping you once more before grabbing your face and fucking you deeper. "Cum, you fuckin' slut. Now."

His command tips you over the edge, and all you see is white for a second as you cum, hard. The breath is stolen from your lungs, the strength from your muscles, the thoughts from your brain. For a moment, all you are is the product of Bucky's desire; coming apart at his words, destroyed by his actions.

As you cum around him, Bucky groans, feeling his own orgasm hit him. "Shit, that's it, baby. Take my fuckin' seed, all of it," He grunts, thrusting sloppily as he cums hard. "Gonna make such a pretty mommy for me, tulip, such a pretty mommy."

Meanwhile, as you come down from your high, your blurred vision clears and you return to your senses. You can feel his jizz pouring inside you as he shudders, and your eyes widen at the feeling. "That's so much - so much cum, daddy," You whisper, gasping as he fucks it all into you.

Chuckling weakly, he rests his head in your neck, slowing down his thrusts. "Magic of the serum, baby. Shit."

The both of you take a few moments to recover, breathing heavily in the now-silent kitchen. Slowly, Bucky pulls out of you, making you wince.

Patting his chest, you give him a smile. "Thanks for that, Buck. I really needed it."

He nods quickly, eyes wide. "Yeah. Yeah, no problem. Any time- seriously, any time," He rambles while doing his best not to gawk at your naked body.

Grinning, you lean up and kiss his cheek. "Thank you. I appreciate that."

Letting out a shaky breath, he quickly pulls off his t-shirt before helping you put it on. "There you are, tulip," He murmurs, pulling it down to cover your ass.

"I'll, uh, see you in the morning?" You say, slowly making your way to the exit.

"Sure," He replies, rubbing the back of his neck. "Unless I come for round two after my shower?"

Smirking, you back up to the door. "You know where to find me, daddy."

With that, you leave and make your way to the stairs - where your other team members are all standing, wide eyed and horrified at what they just overheard.

"Hey, gang," You greet them casually, walking past Natasha with a smile.

"Hey... Y/N," Sam replies with a mixture of fear and bafflement in his eyes. "You all good?"

You nudge his arm when you pass him, "I'm absolutely perfect. I feel so much better than I did after today's mission."

Clint and Tony remain silent, unable to even look at you as you walk by them.

"Well, good night, everyone," You say softly. "Sweet dreams."

Steve can't bring himself to make eye contact with you as you limp up the stairs to where he's standing, his brows furrowing nervously. Once you're in your room, he looks at the others and mumbles, "I don't think there's gonna be anything sweet about my dreams tonight."

Bucky then emerges from the kitchen, shirtless, sweaty, and holding your panties in his hand. Grimacing, Sam steps forward. "You monster."

With a scoff, Bucky holds his hands up in surrender. "Woah, there," He says. "She came onto me!"

They all burst into disbelieving grumbles, refusing to accept that you aren't as innocent as they believed and turning away from him to make their way upstairs.

Alone, Bucky lowers his hands, chuckling at the situation. "Tulip, you absolute slut," He mumbles, looking down at your panties with a smirk. "My fuckin' slut."

writing that made me horny

bucky masterlist

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much more relatable

Old Disney and Pixar movies be like: you have trauma because your parents are dead

New Disney and Pixar movies be like: you have trauma because of your parents