Tom Hiddleston(on first seeing the Iron Man movie in 2008): I was not part of this [comic] world at all. I was still back home in London, and I thought to myself “I’ll probably never be in a film like that.” And I’m still pinching myself, three years later, I’ve actually thrown Iron Man out of a window.
When I was a child my sisters and I and my cousins used to write plays in the summer for my parents. It was just a, you know… this in the years before Xbox and Play Station and all that stuff, so we just wrote - we just played - and I was always the bad guy for some reason. So…nothing’s changed.[x]
Prompt: "All the way down, good girl.. nose to the base, show me you can take it.” Day 23 of the Sexy September Scribbles
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Word count: 297
The mat is cold under your knees, digging into your skin, but the heat in Bucky’s eyes bursn hotter than anything else you’ve ever encountered. You’d been sparring - or pretending to, you both knew this was a gateway to something darker - but he had you pinned before you could even get a punch out, his metal hand forcing you down until you were kneeling between his thighs.
“Pathetic,” he drawls, cock already hard and out of his pants, the tip brushing against your lips. “Can’t even last five minutes on the mat. Maybe you’re better on your knees.”
You open up for him, drool sliding down your chin as he fills your mouth. Bucky doesn’t ease you in, doesn’t offer time to adjust; he just grips your hair tight and slams forward, choking you on his length.
“Fuck, listen to you,” he groans, hips thrusting forward. “Gaggin’ like a little slut. And lovin’ it.”
(He pauses a second later to ask ‘Color?’ and you tap his thigh once for green. He keeps going.)
Your throat convulses, a few tears spilling when he forces you down, vibranium hand clamped around your jaw, unyielding, keeping you exactly where he wants you.
“All the way down, good girl,” he snarls. “Nose to the base, show me you can take it.”
You gag but don’t stop, chest heaving, drool soaking the front of your shirt while Bucky fucks your mouth for his own pleasure (and yours. Definitely yours, too).
He pulls you away from his cock to let you breathe for a few seconds, a taunting smile on his lips.
“Look at you, fuckin’ made for this, baby.” he says while his thumb smears spit across your swollen lips. “Training’s over. You’re nothin’ but my own cock sleeve now.”
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