#MARRIED ASS BEHAVIOR | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gutsby · 11 months ago

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Wedded Bliss

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.

Warnings: 18+. Dubcon. Corruption kink. Virginity loss. Arranged marriage between enemies. Brat taming. Breeding kink. Beefy, mob boss Bucky devolving into a fall-to-his-knees-just-to-fuck-you kind of horny mess.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

You kissed him and wished him dead in the same breath. You said ‘I do’ and meant ‘I don’t,’ exchanged your vows like your own last rites, and felt him slip the ring on your finger as if he’d just tightened a noose around your neck.

You didn’t want to be a bride, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be the bride to Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.

Frankly, you were mortified.

And terrified, too, now that you knew your groom might actually kill you in the kitchen of your honeymoon suite.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

“I walked down the aisle, didn’t I?”

Another plate went crashing on the wall behind your husband’s head just as he managed to duck. He side-stepped a spray of porcelain and glass and probably crushed several hundred shards beneath his polished black oxfords when he walked—stalked—over to you.

You’d just reared back to hurl a serving plate at his face when you found your speed swiftly outmatched. Bucky had your elbow gripped between his forefinger and thumb in less than a second, and, pinching the bone like he might readily break it, he said, even as always,

“Put it down.”

You did as he told you and dropped the platter to the floor with a crash.

Rather than berate you for the broken china—or the four other pieces before it—your husband only smiled.

“Are we done?”

Hell, you wanted to be. Slide over a pen and a one-way plane ticket to someplace in BFE, and you’d be signing those divorce papers in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, your dear husband was just referring to the temper tantrum.

You weren’t totally sure if you were finished on that front, so you looked him up and down and shrugged.

“Now darling—” he started.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Light of my life—”

“I’ll kill you.”

Your cool, level-headed groom took each gibe like it was his sworn duty, and only when he yanked your wrists behind your back and shoved you toward the bedroom door did you sense that he might not be too pleased with your behavior.

Your knees struck the edge of the California King at the center of the room, and before you could will yourself not to fall face-first, Bucky nudged you hard again.

Still pinning your hands behind you, he followed your collapse on the bed and leaned over your prone body.

His breaths were hot on your ear; you could tell he was smiling as he started to hike your dress up your legs.

“It’s all part of the deal, doll.”

You wriggled under his hold and tried to angle yourself better to see him, hoping he’d see your scowl.

“The deal was to get married,” you reminded him.

“Mhmm,” Bucky hummed, just then starting to trail a finger up the uncovered skin of your calf with his other hand, “And what is it that married people do?”

You kicked your foot reflexively, paused, then said,

“Fight. Constantly. Probably resent each other for the better part of two decades before we finally decide that ‘making it work’ for the kids isn’t worth it at all, and I claim half of everything you own in a bitter divorce.”

That earned a chuckle from Bucky. He kept his roaming hand brushing up the back of your thigh and squeezed the flesh just below the swell of your rear.

“Don’t worry, my lawyer drafted a pretty good prenup.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but then he was tracing the contour of your ass with his palm, and you cut yourself short. Bucky carried on, careless as ever.

“But the kids you mentioned,” he said, “How are we supposed to get those?”

You pursed your lips and tried hard not to move when his fingers drifted inward—you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. The bottom of your dress was bunched around your hips now, leaving you sorely exposed. Had your bridesmaids not thrust that stupid white lingerie set upon you hours before the wedding, you probably would’ve chosen something a little more modest than a thong. But here you were.

At least the sight seemed appealing to your husband, whose eyes hadn’t left you once while his hands grew even hungrier to feel your warmth.

“I’m hoping a sperm donor or one of your double-crossing mobster friends will knock me up, honestly,” you said, feigning enthusiasm at the thought.

A tart slap delivered to your ass told you that Bucky hadn’t found that funny. After, he started kneading the skin a bit harder.

“No shot,” he shook his head, suddenly gliding his fingers down closer to your core and waiting for you to say something in protest, “Only one that’s gonna be pumping this thing full of babies is me, I promise.”

It was like he wanted your retaliation, whether that be by a thinly veiled look of disgust or a reactionary jab of your own. You weren’t keen on fulfilling any wish of his, but at this point, you felt you had no other choice. When you sensed he was distracted by the newly-discovered heat between your legs and had loosened his grip on your wrists, you flipped yourself over on the bed. Shoved at his chest before he knew what to do with himself.

Of course, the push didn’t send him far, but it was enough to get his attention—and his hands off of you.

“I’m not having your babies, Barnes! I am never going to fuck you, no matter how long we stay fake married,” you spat.

At that, Bucky just raised his eyebrows and wet his lips. You were cramming your wedding dress back into place, glaring at him the whole time, and were scarcely more aware of the bright, teeming city outside the window than you were of your husband’s own growing erection.

Finally, you’d said it. His new wife wouldn’t fuck him. The sound of your resistance was almost a pleasure unto itself, and the longer you stared at Bucky with growing contempt and resolve not to do that thing, the more determined he became to make it happen.

Cat-and-mouse games had long been a staple in his life, and he was pleased to see them carry into his marriage as well. Surely if he’d triumphed in every pursuit for the last twenty years—facing the likes of some seriously execrable bandits and racketeers—he could take on a bratty woman less than half his size. You said you didn’t want his babies now, but just wait until he’d fucked you full of his cum once or twice. You’d be begging him for it in no time at all, and shortly thereafter, he’d have you barefoot and pregnant as many times as he liked. Always swollen with one of his children and whining for more.

The woman before him now had a murderous glint in her eyes, but he could fuck that away easy. In fact, he would live to do it. He traced the outline of your thigh over your dress and smiled when you tried not to recoil.

“Surely you didn’t think we’d be finger-painting and reading poetry to each other on our wedding night, hm?” he asked, almost delicately.

“Thought you might have one of your other women lined up,” you snorted. When you tried to move away, Bucky pinched your leg to make you stay. You winced.

“That’s not funny,” he said, a little more consternation in his tone. Like he actually cared whether you thought him a profligate Lothario or not, “Now that we’re married, it’s only you and me. No mistresses, nothing.”

Yeah, and he was just as likely arriving to your marital bed a blushing virgin. You rolled onto your side and pretended not to feel him tighten his grip as you did.

“Try the carnal part of our marriage yourself and I’m sure you’ll find I’m an exceptional fuck,” Bucky continued, speaking low as he stroked the chiffon of your dress.

You didn’t doubt the man was good—certainly the extent of his sexual escapades as a twenty-something seemed to demand it—but exceptional? No fucking way. You knew men like Bucky, with the world and every walking pair of tits at their fingertips, and almost all were incurably selfish. Cocky. The kind to jackhammer a woman for three consecutive minutes, roll over, and say, ‘Did you cum?’

No, there was not a snowball’s chance in hell your husband’s sexual prowess was even half as good as he claimed it was. Deciding to bite your tongue for the first time that night, though, you just stared at him blankly.

What you didn’t know was that your silence only stoked the flames of his ego, prompting him to press the matter further.

“What? You think I can’t fuck?” he said, “Any woman lucky enough to bed me has cum at least twice. Every time.”

Sure they did, Bucky, you wanted to say, but were suddenly drawn into his lap before you could speak.

“But let’s pretend I can’t,” he said, heedless of the face you made as soon as you were straddling his hips, “You wouldn’t let your husband prove himself tonight?”

“I don’t fuck strangers.”

Bucky smiled at that.

“Everyone’s a stranger until you get to blow them, honey,” he teased, squeezing your hips when you didn’t seem amused at all. Then you let out a cry, feeling yourself thrown back on the mattress like a rag doll while Bucky moved off.

Before you knew it, he was tugging your ankles down the length of the bed and widening his stance just a bit. He stopped pulling once your knees were grazing his black dress pants and your feet were dangling off of the bed.

“You like skylines?” he asked.

You frowned and raised a brow that he was quick to interpret as a ‘yes.’ He hauled you onto your feet.

“‘Course you do. All pretty girls like pretty skies,” he rattled on, strolling with you step-by-step to the set of French doors at the end of the room.

Bucky led you out to the balcony. The air was warm as it ever was, dull gusts of the evening wind curling up from the coastline below. Just as your husband had promised, the skyline of Santorini greeted you on either side, and you had to admit, it was more than just pretty. The views from your villa were absolutely breathtaking.

You stood with your back to Bucky, hands resting on the marble balustrade, and you felt him there, behind you. You didn’t bother to tilt your head when he drew even closer.

“What do you like most about it?” The question was simple enough, punctuated with a kiss on your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the horizon, the sea, even the quiet little streets down beneath, and you racked your brain trying to think of an answer that might satisfy him.

Before you could, though, you sucked in a breath when you felt your dress start to come undone at your back.

Bucky was unzipping your gown, gentle as ever, and probably grinning from ear to ear as he watched you shift uncomfortably in place and try to hold the material above your breasts where it had been fastened all day. Presently, you kicked your heel backward and hoped it would land somewhere near his balls. You missed.

“James,” you hissed.

Bucky groaned at the sheer intonation of his name on your lips.

“Yes, dear?”

“Why are you undressing me?”

Bucky had successfully dragged the zipper all the way down to your ass, and it seemed he was trying to shimmy the dress off your frame. You held on tight.

“I’d like to fuck my bride over the balcony railing, if that’s alright with you,” he answered truthfully.

The man was nothing if not blunt and crass. You turned around to give him a look, yanking your gown even closer to your chest.

“I’ll— I’ll tell my mother, Barnes.”

You felt stupid as soon as you’d said it—using your go-to threat whenever you were in distress. What were you, eleven?

“Your mother?” Bucky repeated, words steeped in derision, “Last I recall, mommy dearest was practically begging me to get you pregnant at the reception.”

Your jaw clenched, and you internally cursed your whole family. Your parents were supposed to be on your side throughout all of this—it was bad enough they’d pawned you off to a mob boss of unrivaled infamy all to settle a debt, but this? Your mother had assured you just the day before that Mr. Barnes was bound to tire of you within the year. No mention of sex or babies whatsoever.

The same mother who had beat you over the head with the notion of your own virginity since you were old enough to read, the one who had underscored just how important it was to wait for the right man to give yourself body, mind, and soul to, turning around and telling this filthy criminal to have you any way he liked. And knock you up? The fucking nerve of that woman.

You were so preoccupied with thoughts of your own backstabbing family that you hardly felt Bucky drag your dress the rest of the way down your body. It was only when you were completely bare before him, and your husband had just started to skim his lips over your tummy that you tensed with surprise.

“I don’t have to fuck you just yet, doll,” he murmured, having sunk to his knees and only moving lower. Then the corners of his lips twitched, “Least not with my dick.”

You tried to pry his head from between your legs before he could stretch his tongue so much as an inch.

“James!”

Again with that name.

“You know, I love when you call me that, Mrs. Barnes.”

Bucky was peering up at you now, soaking in the sight of your body in a white lace bra, panties, and stockings.

“Is my bride feeling shy?” he teased, gently nipping at your inner thighs.

You weren’t sure what you were feeling in that moment, to be honest. Revulsion, betrayal, arousal, you name it—each crowned with an all-encompassing hatred for the man currently occupying the space between your legs—while a still stronger desire almost hoped he would stay.

“You can hate your husband all you want and still let him tonguefuck you,” Bucky growled against your skin.

Like he’d read your mind.

In reality, your husband hardly needed the powers of telepathy to tell him just how turned on you were; the sopping wet spot in your panties said as much. From his vantage point, Bucky saw the disgust in your eyes slowly eclipsed by lust, and with a single flick of his tongue, he knew he would have you exactly where he wanted you.

“Just let it happen, honey.”

He felt your fingers thread tight through his hair and the first stir of your hips in tandem. One small, delectable whimper crossed your lips, and it took everything in Bucky not to tear your panties straight off with his teeth.

Instead, the man opted for a soft, gentle lick over your clothed slit. Testing the waters.

Your whimper was quick to meld to a moan, and then, just as fast:

“N-no, Bucky.”

To your dismay, his tongue didn’t retreat, only making firmer laps against your centre while his lips grazed the lace. He gripped your thighs and wedged himself deeper, and again, you cursed the paper thin fabric of your panties for letting you feel everything his mouth was doing. He hadn’t even made proper contact with your cunt, and your knees were already starting to shake.

He pressed a kiss above your clit through the flimsy material, and you almost tore a clump of hair from his head.

“No. Please.” You hardly made sense to yourself; it was clear you wanted his touch, but something inside you wasn’t quite ready to submit to the idea that this was all okay. That your husband’s tongue and lips might be meant for something like this, and you didn’t have to feel so guilty for wanting it either. Fucking purity culture.

“My pretty girl,” Bucky presently murmured above the fabric, words sending a dozen little shockwaves in their wake, “My beautiful fucking wife.”

The man inhaled your scent and could’ve sworn he was in ecstasy. Blinded by desire as he was, he really wasn’t bullshitting in the slightest when he gathered you to him and said you were the best; he’d genuinely grown transfixed by the feel of you, in spite of every fibre of his being telling him not to. The marriage was arranged, fake, and fueled by hatred—and somehow, Bucky couldn’t get enough.

Nor could he wait any longer. One light swipe of his finger tugged your panties aside, and then he was latching on, no cover this time, to take your clit between his lips. Sucking hard, going fast, needing it bad.

A moan rang loud in his ears, and your hand on his head was instantly joined by the other. You yanked his hair like you never had before, pulling so tight at the roots as though your pleasure depended on it. Bucky smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue.

“Feel good, baby?” he breathed.

His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions.

You didn’t know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Bucky flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking.

“You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?”

His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the marble and spread you even wider for the taking.

He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.

Bucky wanted to break that resolve. He brought one hand closer to your entrance.

And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside. The act surprised your husband almost as much as it did you—not quite, but almost—upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him.

When you whined a loud, protracted, ‘FUCK!’ he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this.

Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Bucky knew you were close.

He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else’s. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.

Then, unexpectedly, both were robbed of your touch.

Seized with fear, you shoved Bucky off and stumbled away from his glistening face. You took off toward the doors and fled the balcony before you could think.

“What the f— honey? Honey?!” Bucky sputtered. He bounded after you.

You’d thrown yourself in the master bathroom and locked the door behind you in the blink of an eye. Outside, your husband had only to stare in pure bewilderment and awe, mind reeling at what had just happened.

Fucking hell, he knows. He knows! You collapsed against the door and slid down a couple inches. Your hand reflexively flew to your mouth to stifle the sounds when Bucky began pounding the wood behind you.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s—what’s goin’ on?”

In truth, you’d rather chug bleach than divulge the thought that had just scared the everliving fuck out of you back there. It was stupid and senseless and should’ve been frightening you for weeks before it ever came to this, but here you were, panicked in the bathroom of your honeymoon suite because you’d never done this before—and you’d never reached climax in your life without bursting into tears.

Fuck, you felt stupid. How could you think this would be any different—or that Bucky’s tongue wouldn’t eventually attempt to wrest an orgasm out of you?

It’d just felt so good, you thought maybe a new climax brought by someone else’s fingers might free you from the same unsavory demise you’d met a hundred times before, but then it hit you, shortly after Bucky had plunged his fingers inside, you were going to cry.

You winced when Bucky’s knocks grew louder, his voice gaining more ire by the second, it seemed.

“Open the fucking door!”

He’d rake you over the coals for this. Getting so close to what he wanted, only to have his silly little bride snatch it all away and run hiding in the en-suite bathroom? Your stomach turned at the thought of what men in the mob were liable to do with women like you—what Bucky might conceivably do now that you’d sparked his rage.

Your eyes darted to the window just as his fist shook the doorframe behind you. You ran over to the tub, tucked squarely beneath the windowsill, and climbed onto it just to get a hold of the fastenings around the glass.

One click synchronized with the furious cadence being hammered on the door, and just as you started to slide the pane up the way, a heavy thud sounded outside. The weight of your husband’s body being thrust against the door, most likely.

You bit your lip and lifted one leg over the windowsill, shuffling your body even closer to the outside world.

Three floors up! Have you lost your mind? You could hear your father’s words ringing in your skull already. There was a ledge, you reasoned, no more than ten feet below, if you could just grab hold of the frame right there and slide down the cool stone you might—

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned.

You watched your husband heave through the busted door of the bathroom, wide eyes and a ‘Here’s Johnny’ flourish raging hot on his face. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you started to lower yourself out of the window, hoping desperately for that ledge below to be sturdy. But before you could make it even half of the way there, strong arms were circling your frame and yanking you back inside, hurtling straight into the bathtub with Bucky tumbling over you.

“What are you doing?!” he roared.

You wriggled under his weight, petrified of the fiery look in his eyes as he lurched over your frame.

He straightened up just enough to shake you by the shoulders—like a parent reprimanding a child.

“What the fuck was that?! Huh? You think that’s fucking funny, jumping out windows?”

No, no, not funny, you wanted to bite back, but found your mouth dry and unable to speak. When Bucky shook you again, you had only to whimper a pathetic sound.

The man was enraged. Stubble still damp with your juices and looking undeniably frazzled and spent, he drew closer to your face and demanded you look at him. When he took hold of your cheeks in both hands, the command couldn’t have reached you any more clearly.

“What— what was that for?” his voice lowered as he tried to catch his breath. You still couldn’t move.

“I-I don’t—” you stopped and hardly knew how to say it:

Sorry to cut our tonguefucking session short, I was just afraid I might burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears while you licked and sucked me through the best orgasm of my life. I’d rather jump off, or out of, a building than tell my mob boss husband that I can’t cum without crying. By the way, I’m a virgin!

Instead, you just blinked and stared back at him.

“Can’t…do it,” you murmured.

Bucky’s expression only grew more puzzled by the words out of your mouth. He squeezed your face tighter and leaned in even closer.

“Do what? Sex? Fuck, I— I didn’t mean to be that aggressive, hell, I’m sorry.” He stopped to run a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you could’ve sworn you saw the first glint of compunction in his eyes.

He looked away a few seconds, as if collecting what fragmented thoughts he could, then brought his head back down to your level and took your hands in his.

“Honey?” he tried getting your attention, just barely above a whisper now, “I know the whole thing’s fucked, I know.”

That was the understatement of the century. To your surprise, Bucky’s gaze softened when he saw a scowl cross your face.

“We don’t…have to do anything. I was just pushing your buttons earlier. Being a dick.”

His tongue moved to wet his lips once more, this time without the seductive, smug demeanor he usually wore and simply exhibiting discomfort. He swallowed. The bow tie around his neck appeared to him to be fastened far too tight all of a sudden, and then, haphazardly, he started clawing at the garment to get it off.

You didn’t know why you felt compelled to help. It was like all ten fingers just lifted of their own accord to join Bucky’s hands in trying to undo his tie.

The silk fabric wasn’t tied, but knotted, crudely and inflexibly, beneath the little black bow. You frowned. Still unable to meet his gaze as you worked your fingers under the tangled material and tried to pretend like the two of you weren’t still sweating profusely from the events that had just transpired—both the tonguefucking and the window-jumping.

“Who tied this, a five-year-old?” you muttered.

“I’m thirty-eight, thanks,” Bucky returned just as quietly.

Both of you indulged in a smile that lasted no longer than a second, but you felt the tension ease a little.

This was not where you thought your dreaded wedding night was headed before. Curled up in a bathtub with your hands around your husband’s neck—and not actually trying to kill him—while Bucky blinked almost nervously the longer your hands lingered on his collar. It seemed he’d found something especially tantalizing on the wall behind your head, because his stare remained fixed on that spot the whole time you fiddled with his tie.

Maybe that, along with the last ebb of alcoholic influence from the reception still coursing through your veins, had emboldened you to come right out and say it while Bucky was looking away. You couldn’t be sure.

“I’ve never had sex before.”

At last, the tie loosened a little.

Bucky flicked his gaze back to yours in a second.

“What?”

You lifted a brow, wondering if he really needed an explanation as to what it meant to have never gotten laid before, but you decided against indulging him any further. Bucky seemed keen on doing that all by himself.

“You’re a virgin?”

You nodded.

“Didn’t my overbearing mother make sure you knew?”

“Yeah, I thought she was full of shit,” Bucky answered bluntly. Then, catching sight of the semi-offended look in your eye, mixed with a tad more amusement than indignation, he added, “I mean— I didn’t think you’d, uh, wanna wait…twenty-five years for some action.”

He winced when he realized that sounded just as bad. His throat cleared shortly to make way for a new attempt at comity, but you cut him off, shaking your head as you finally got the knot to untangle.

“No, I get it. I don’t know why I waited this long either,” you shrugged.

As soon as you’d freed him from his bow tie, you started to stand from the bath tub. Bucky, too, straightened to his full height and started to close the window while you walked back to the bedroom.

You eyed the rose petals strewn across the duvet and felt a little more relaxed this time around. The weight of the V-word had been lifted from your shoulders, and now you had only to share the crying-while-cumming stuff to Bucky later on. Much later on, you hoped.

You crawled onto the bed and stretched out on your belly, playing with the soft red petals and wondering if room service was still offered at this hour.

Bucky had just stepped out of the bathroom when he halted at the threshold. Saw your body sprawled out on the bed, back arched and ass pointed in the air as you reached over for the phone on the nightstand. He stared for a second too long and felt a familiar stir in his pants.

Sonovabitch, he started to think, before chiding himself silently, Shut up, man, she’s a virgin. Be cool. Be cool—don’t make her jump out a window again.

He ducked back in the bathroom and eased the door to just a crack while you discovered a voice on the line:

“Hi! Hey, I’d like to order room service to, uh…” your voice trailed off. Then, covering the mouthpiece, “James, what’s our room number?”

Inside the bathroom, Bucky squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of his name. Already palming his erection through his dress pants as he leaned against the wall.

“We rented the whole building, dear,” he called back.

“Oh.” He could just imagine the slight pout on your lips as you spoke. Then you asked if he wanted anything to eat, Bucky thought only of the sweet nectar between your legs, and he answered aloud, no, he was fine, really.

For the first time in his life, the man felt positively ashamed he was about to rub one out in a bathroom, alone. It wasn’t like this was the first it had ever been done, but now there was you, innocent and oblivious in the next room over, while Bucky undid his belt and quietly freed his cock from his dress pants. It felt kind of perverted, in a way, but he knew he needed this release to put his mind at ease and not feel so affected by you.

While you scanned your phone for a menu and chatted with the concierge downstairs about various food items, Bucky was spitting in his hand and fumbling for his shaft. You talked American Wagyu sirloin, lobster thermidor, and seared Faroe Island salmon while he thought achingly about the way your cunt had tasted and how badly he wanted to try it again.

How did he feel about an artisan cheese platter? Bucky hardly had the wits about himself to answer beyond a strangled, ‘Whatever you want, honey’ and a tightened fist around his cock, stroking hard to get the filthy thoughts out of his head before the food arrived.

Ever sweet, soft, supple, and savory—his mind reeled with fresh memories of that place between your thighs, and he almost lurched forward in pleasure.

Your brute of a mob boss husband was irreparably pussy-whipped and hadn’t even fucked you yet. He gripped the bathroom sink beside him and sincerely wished it wasn’t his hand doing the work right now. But of course, he had to be patient, had to be kind—couldn’t force himself on a woman who clearly wasn’t ready.

Again, he spit in his palm and jerked himself fast.

Any minute now, he thought with some relief.

Your feet padded softly into the living room as the pleasure inside him was starting to crest. Still pining for your warmth and the way your legs trembled around his head, Bucky was all but fucking his hand at this point. He’d snagged his bottom lip between his teeth in a lopsided smile and groaned, too low to be heard, and pumped himself even faster for his impending orgasm.

A thought crossed your mind as you stopped ahead of the sofa. You pivoted.

Suddenly, you were skipping back to the bathroom, wanting to know Bucky’s wine preferences before you placed another order.

You barged in and froze.

“Sorry!” you squeaked, darting out just as fast.

Five seconds slower and you probably would’ve seen Bucky blow his load all over the sink. As it was, the man was left sorely at a loss for any form of release and heaving fast, ragged breaths from the colossal scare you’d just given him.

Good fucking going, Buck—your wife wants to cuddle and eat cheese and you’re out here beating your meat.

Bucky shoved himself back in his pants and waited an excruciating minute for the sound of your second window exit of the night. A slammed door, a frantic phone call, a few sobs into your pillow as you realized how dirty and depraved your husband was, anything.

He was only met with silence.

Taking one more shaky breath, Bucky reached for the doorknob and started back out. Cautiously.

The man took his slow, silent leave of the bathroom with his gaze trained toward the doors—half-expecting to see his bride rappelling from the balcony—but then quickly shifted to the bed. Finding you kneeling at the edge.

“James?”

Your voice almost pained.

A word was all it took. Bucky was back on his knees.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted it to go away, honey. I’m sorry.”

Go away? You quirked a brow and couldn’t hold his gaze much longer; just trailed your vision down his torso to his pants, then his erection, still standing prominent as ever.

Bucky struggled to decide whether you were ticked off or intrigued, seeing your eyes make their painful appraisal of his length beneath his pants. Your brow was pinched, but your head was cocked. Almost curious.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked, gaze fixed on the spot.

Immediately, Bucky rose to his feet and crawled back on the bed, seizing your body with both of his hands.

“No! No, not mad at all,” he mumbled as he sidled up beside you. Pleased to see you hadn’t recoiled, “I was just, uh…missing you, ‘s’all.”

If his men could see him now, Bucky was sure he’d be the laughing stock of all the town. Doting and kind, eyes softened beyond recognition, he just watched you and wanted nothing more than to repair the smile that had ebbed from your face. Come ridicule, hell, or high water, the man was infatuated with his bride—all broken plates and attempted window escapes be damned.

Presently, you brought your hand down to his bulge.

Bucky stiffened but didn’t speak. He wanted you to do this on your own, of your own volition.

“You seem kinda mad to me.” You hardly knew what you were doing. Just rubbing his length and hoping it was something he’d like.

Where Bucky had wanted to see you smile, you just wanted to hear him grunt and whine—maybe grab your hips and beg you to do something, please. You’d never felt any such degree of control, and you suspected Bucky had never not felt it himself. You wanted him desperate.

You were playing a dangerous game, you knew it, but something inside those baby blues said he wanted to do it, too. Do anything for you, quite frankly.

You watched the rise and fall of Bucky’s broad chest and stroked his length even softer.

“James.”

“Uh-huh?” His mouth hung open with a gentle grunt, fighting every instinct to buck into your touch.

At last, you squeezed his shaft and prodded him on. Let your head drift closer to his so his lips would graze the apple of your cheek, and just when you sensed he wanted a taste, you tilted your face toward his own,

“We haven’t even kissed since the ceremony.”

Bucky stared blankly at you, enrapt with the pulse of your fingers. You could tell he was aching to move.

“Oh yeah?” he murmured.

You nodded a wordless affirmation and slid sharply back in bed as Bucky lunged after you. Your hands flew from his pants to the plush mattress behind you as you shifted—or, rather, scrambled—back in place and felt your husband climb over you hungrily.

“That what my wife wants?” he murmured, frame slotting tight between your legs.

You nodded again, and had only to suck in a breath before Bucky was devouring your lips. The kind of flushed, frantic, filthy kiss that would’ve doubtlessly wrought looks of horror on every face at your wedding had he grabbed you that way after the declarations of ‘I do’ had been spoken.

You loved him like this, impassioned and a bit unhinged.

His tongue worked his way past your lips and scoured every soft, fleshy inch between the insides of your cheeks before he took your face in his hands, kissing you roughly.

Something hard and throbbing nudged your sex, and suddenly you were whining in his mouth. Wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Ah, honey, don’t,” Bucky groaned, visibly straining to contain himself. When you dug your heels even deeper in his back, the groan that followed from him was hoarse and guttural.

“I thought— I…fuck,” your husband turned his head to curse as you grinded your hips up to his. You had to bite back a smile.

“I just wanna do what married people do,” you murmured coyly, pretending not to see when Bucky shot you the most red-hot, wanton look he’d imparted all evening.

“Yeah?” Like a kid in a candy shop the size of Sears.

Bucky took your face in his hands once more and made sure to scan your expression for any shred of doubt. On finding nothing there, he sat panting, half-disbelieving and half-contemplating all the wretched things he wanted to do to you. You squeezed his sides with your thighs and just hoped your husband knew what to do, because, in truth, you didn’t have the first fucking idea.

A few dry, clinical terms flashed before your mind’s eye, along with your mother’s bleak depiction of what treatment lay in store for a woman on her wedding night, and as Bucky started to work his belt and his pants off, you just hoped he wouldn’t be cruel.

He couldn’t be, right? He’d only mowed down a hundred men and dismembered dozens more, you were told, but surely a set of eyes this soft, caring, and kind couldn’t belong to a monster. You let him lift your hips and shimmy your panties, garter belt, and stockings down your legs, and when he returned, you tried your best not to betray the thoughts in your head.

Bucky hadn’t been with a virgin for as long as he could remember—maybe ever. His own ‘deflowering’ an ancient relic of his boyhood and the multitude of partners since then a mere flurry of nameless faces, he sincerely couldn’t recall a time when he’d asked, or cared, whether the woman beneath him had her cherry intact. He didn’t suppose it could be too different, as he peeled the last pieces of your lingerie set off your body and saw you seemed perfectly ready. He ran a finger between your folds and felt you shiver with what looked like excitement. Piece of cake, he thought, smiling.

No doubt he would take great joy in making you his own. His bride, his wife, an unblemished beacon of light in a life as sordid as his, looked perfect spread before him. You would adjust to his size. Bucky trailed the head of his cock up your slit and coated himself in your juices, and just when he’d bracketed his other arm around your head on the pillow, you let out a small sound.

“Are you sure it’ll fit?”

Bucky fisted his length and pressed the tip to your entrance.

“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

He hadn’t yet met a woman who wasn’t able to fit him.

“Okay.”

Somehow, your voice sounded even smaller, head lodged between pillows and the crook of Bucky’s elbow. You felt small. Frankly, it didn’t seem like your husband was quite computing the worries that were pervading your brain, but you decided he knew best—your mother had assured you that husbands always did—and when Bucky first pressed the head of himself to the seam of your cunt, you hardly even whimpered.

You watched his brow furrow above you. He tried to go further.

Your folds were as soaked as he’d ever seen a woman’s, your hole practically pulsing with desire, and somehow, he couldn’t push in.

Bucky snagged his lip between his teeth and braced himself with the aid of the headboard, taking your hip in his other hand. A breath sounded on your lips the second he adjusted, and shortly thereafter, he felt your gaze on the same place he was watching: the spot where your bodies were trying to connect.

His features darkened at the prospect of failing, or even appearing incompetent to you in the slightest. He’d done this hundreds of times before, why wouldn’t it work?

When he felt your eyes trail back up his body and study his face—maybe wondering why her new groom hadn’t gotten around to thrusting into her yet, he thought—he felt a swell of panic and pushed.

Against his better judgment and the feel of your body, he muscled his way through and forced his cock inside. Bottoming out in a single, stabbing thrust.

You seized in pain but wanted to be a good wife for him.

Bucky, too, felt his hips stutter at the resistance your walls were giving him, but then remembered how he’d sworn to be a dutiful husband, and kept going.

Together, you stared anywhere but the other’s face and gritted your teeth for two entirely different reasons—you, in agony, and Bucky, in ecstasy, the latter hoping with everything in him that you liked this as much as him.

Bucky took a tender, if not slightly awkward, rhythm rutting against your body and stared steady at the headboard like he always did.

You were in pain and faced with nothing but his hulking chest, moving up and down, back and forth, over and over again like a goddamn seesaw from hell while it felt like your insides were presently being torn to shreds.

Who fucking enjoys this? you wanted to wail, but feigned a moan instead, raking your nails down Bucky’s back, Why isn’t he looking at me? Why isn’t he touching me?

Your walls involuntarily clenched around him, and he swallowed a moan.

Just think of baseball, beer, math, the Roman Empire, anything to keep from busting right now, Bucky told himself as he clenched his jaw and fought to maintain his pace. Your pussy just felt so. fucking. good.

Beneath him, you had tried and failed to fight back tears. The burn was just too much; the longer he thrusted, the more your walls contracted, and confusingly, stupidly, it seemed like he was using you. Your mother was right, most likely, that sex was just a means to an end for men like Bucky, and your husband didn’t care about your pleasure at all. You fought hard to keep the waterworks at bay, that one thing you hadn’t wanted Bucky to see, but eventually, the tears were flowing freely.

You stifled a sob that your husband mistook for a moan.

He fucked you even faster and felt a grin start to twitch at the corners of his lips when you made a sound that seemed consistent with pleasure.

“Feel so fucking tight,” Bucky grunted, about to lower his gaze to your face for the first time since he’d entered you, “So nice and tight and w—hey, hey, baby?”

He stilled inside as soon as he saw that you were crying. Took your face in his hands and almost couldn’t believe the sight of your tear-stained cheeks beneath him.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, scanning your face for any signs of harm.

You just shook your head and tried to brush him off.

“Keep going, I’m good.”

Bucky seemed angered at the suggestion. He brought your face closer to his and stared almost reproachfully down at you. Then he paused a beat and swiped one of your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

“N—”

“Don’t lie.”

You squirmed a bit and winced. That was answer enough for Bucky, and he slowly pulled out of you.

“Aw hell.”

The two of you glanced down to see a blooming red spot on the comforter. Bucky rubbed the blood in disbelief.

He’d gone too far. Again. Hurt something inside of you that couldn’t be fixed with a kiss. While you struggled to sit up among the pillows, Bucky was running a hand through his hair and cursing himself up and down.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he scowled.

“I didn’t wanna interrup—”

“If I’m making you bleed, you stop me, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well you seemed to be having a pretty good time!”

Bucky didn’t need to tell you in words what was painted on his face; he was pissed off and probably bound to slip off the bed any second, when your tears started welling up again. Then he eased off, remembering he was more mad at himself than anyone else, and slid closer to you. He tried pulling you into his chest, but you didn’t budge.

“C’mon,” you said, grabbing his wrist, “Let’s keep going.”

Bucky eyed you incredulously.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh,” you insisted. He shot you a glare but didn’t protest when you guided his hand between your legs.

You were spread back open for him in no time. Still stinging like hell and ready for another go. Bucky almost couldn’t believe it.

“My headstrong wife.” He managed a smile before kissing the crown of your head, and kept right on kissing that spot no matter how far his fingers were traveling.

“You owe me two orgasms, remember, Mr. Barnes?”

It seemed Bucky’s boastful claims of late were in fact the furthest thing from his mind as he crawled back over your body. He pried your knees apart and left just enough room for his frame, taking his fingers to your folds and rubbing in light, gentle circles.

The bleeding had stopped. What little remained was long forgotten, and duly, the pain from recent memory was slowly but surely purged with every flick of his thumb. Bucky planted an arm next to your head and kept touching you there until your face relaxed completely.

When he chanced a finger inside, he was careful not to rub so much as plunge in quick, shallow motions, and at the first signs of pleasure, press light and tender kisses on your skin.

“If it hurts at all, you tell me.”

He sounded stern as he inserted another finger, but really, the man was all putty in your hands, wanting to please you and tease you in any way that he could.

When you told him faster, he sped up; you gripped his hair and said slow down, he did the same. He curled his digits in time with every whimper and moan you made and took care not to be too harsh on your sweet spot.

The only time he paused was when you looked up and asked him point-blank: could he fuck you sweet and gentle now?

Bucky paused. Swallowed.

The man would’ve screwed you six ways to Sunday if you asked him; that wasn’t the problem. The only traces of hesitation remained where your eyes said something different. Even as he shuffled between your legs at your behest, aligned his cock with your entrance, and felt a wave of desire wash over him, he pressed his forehead to yours and searched your glossy gaze once more.

“You sure about this, bunny?” he murmured.

Your heart melted at the name. You couldn’t deny you were frightened, and perhaps a bit worse for the wear after your last attempt, but his words were a comfort, his hand on your cheek a welcome gesture. When his thumb grazed your lips, you kissed it and nodded.

“Alright sweet girl,” Bucky said, tone laced with affection.

This time, before pressing the head of himself inside, Bucky caught your lips and kissed you softly. Rubbed himself up and down your slit—paying extra attention to your clit—and coated himself completely before trying to penetrate you again.

Your cheeks flushed, and you kissed him harder.

“P-please, Bucky, fuck me,” you murmured against his mouth, eliciting a small grunt from him.

“Yeah? You want your husband’s cock inside you, doll?” He kept the pretense of teasing, but really, he was just trying to make sure you wanted this as badly as he did. By the blissed out look on your face and the soft, ceaseless squelching noises produced by your arousal, he got the message pretty quickly.

He breached your folds with just the tip at first. You both felt your muscles contract. Instead of blindly pushing ahead like he had before, Bucky trained his gaze on your face and watched for any signs of discomfort.

“Everything okay, bunny?” he hummed as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face.

You were half in awe of how attentive he was, and doubly impressed by the stretch that followed—like a pinch, but nothing like the pain you’d felt before. You peered up at your husband and squeezed his shoulders.

“It— it doesn’t hurt this time,” you said, breathless.

Bucky could’ve caved at the sweet, innocent expression alone—like you were pleasantly surprised this hadn’t caused excruciating pain—and his lips moved down to pepper your cheeks with kisses again.

“Doll, I’m so sorry.”

The sounds and sighs of your pleasure beneath him, along with the words telling him it was okay, really, he hadn’t meant to do it, all made him feel even guiltier for having hurt you in the first place. It took him some time assailing your face with tiny, apologetic kisses before he even thought to feed you another inch.

When he finally plunged himself deeper, it wasn’t without your express permission; even then, Bucky feared he might split you in two.

The whole time he eased himself inside, he was moving his gaze between your face and the place between your two bodies—watching you open for him and take him inch by inch. He rubbed his thumb over your clit when you whimpered.

“Doing so good for me.”

“Stretching so nice for this cock.”

“My beautiful, beautiful wife.”

Every syllable of his praises flooded your head like honey. Feeling him stretch you out, fill you up, and rock you softly with his first shallow thrusts, all while talking you through it, had your mind ablaze and near-euphoric.

Pleasure practically searing your veins, you didn’t even hear yourself, or really mean to say it, as soon as you did.

“This doesn’t feel dirty at all.”

An epiphany to you and a puzzle to Bucky.

“What’s’at, honey?” He was still rutting his hips and slowly picking up speed. Your husband groaned when you clenched around him and pulled him even deeper—before you realized what you’d said.

Your cheeks flushed.

“I— I was always told sex made you dirty. This feels—” you stopped to swallow a moan when Bucky grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you, “pretty nice.”

‘Pretty nice.’ Your husband couldn’t help the smile twitching at the corners of his lips as he leaned down to kiss you. He wrapped his big, muscly arms around you and pulled you closer to his chest.

“Makes you dirty?” Bucky said, disbelief evident in his tone before his smile broke into a grin, “Baby, you’re the cleanest, sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He didn’t let you endeavor to protest, just buried his face in your neck and pressed teasing kisses all over the skin while he continued to pump in and out of you. He knew to keep hitting that spot, too.

You were drowning in whimpers and kisses when Bucky brought his lips to your ear.

“Doesn’t make you dirty at all,” he assured you, “Just makes you my wife.”

You clawed Bucky’s back when he sped up a little, and you felt the pleasure soar to even greater heights when he propped your legs above his shoulders—a brand new angle for him to bend you like a pretzel and fuck you good.

“You take this cock too nice to be dirty,” he gritted his teeth and continued to soothe you just how he knew you liked it, “Such a good little wife, sucking up every inch of me like you were made for it.”

Your lips parted in a soft ‘o,’ feeling him plunge the depths of your cunt like he never had before. Bucky slipped his thumb in your mouth while he held your face.

“That what you are, bunny? A good girl?”

You nodded your head and sucked his thumb, feeling yourself fucked dumb as you did. Bucky loved that blissed out look in your eyes.

“Good girl for daddy?” he cooed.

Your ankles trembled around his neck as soon as he said it. You nodded again, yes, you were, and felt a light coil start to form in your lower stomach as Bucky kept pounding you and pushing his thumb between your lips.

Then, with a pop, he plucked the digit from your mouth and brought it down to your clit. He started soft at first, but before long he was rubbing vicious circles on that little bundle of nerves, watching you come undone before his eyes and clench around him even tighter.

“B-Bucky,” you whined, fisting the sheets underneath you both as you squirmed.

“Mhmm?” Your husband pretended to be oblivious.

“I w— I’m gonna—” The words could scarcely leave your lips without finding themselves punctured with a whimper as soon as they were spoken. Bucky thrusted harder.

“Gonna what? Cum for daddy?” he grinned, “Make a mess all over this cock?”

Your moans of pleasure more than sufficed for an answer. You nodded and winced, felt your whole lower half seize with a warm and heady feeling, and before you knew it, Bucky’s thrusts were sending you spiraling over the edge, with a wave of bliss following shortly behind. Sounds of skin slapping skin hardly faltered, and Bucky kept rubbing and fucking you all throughout the waves of your high.

Tears sprung to your eyes, and you didn’t care. Your mind was alight with more bright, fervid feelings than you could count or comprehend, and your body washed over with pleasure.

You clung to Bucky and felt him keep fucking you, even as you shrieked against his skin.

“One more for me, honey.”

You didn’t think that was possible. You had just spilled all over him, squeezing his cock like a vice and screaming his name, and now he wanted it all over again? So soon?

Your fingernails sunk into his arms as he continued to rut into you, and you started to shake your head.

“C-Can’t Bucky, I can’t, I can’t,” you sobbed, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

“Sure you can.”

Your husband had his mouth at your ear again, panting as the pace of his thrusts grew faster. He tilted his body slightly forward so your legs were pushed even higher above you—damn near grazing either side of your head—and pounded you relentlessly.

His voice seemed so calm and assured as he spoke,

“Cum for daddy. Show me just how fucking good this cock makes you feel and cum again for me.”

With a command like that, how could you refuse?

You came a second time, hands seizing Bucky's forearms, and screams tearing through your chest as you rode your high impaled on his cock over and over again. The sights and sounds and repeated, pulsing spasms of your pussy on his shaft sent Bucky chasing his release not long after, and you felt a warmth spread inside you.

Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, your cheeks practically drenched already. As you came down from your high, you started to blink.

But just as you lifted a hand to sop up the moisture, Bucky was leaning over you and into you with the brightest smile. Then he was kissing each wet, salty stain like it was the most natural thing in the world, sponging soft and gentle touches all over the spots your tears had overflown.

It seemed every nerve ending in your lower half was on the fritz, your body little more than mush underneath him, but somehow you managed to catch his mouth as he traversed the skin. You kissed him back, and Bucky drew you closer.

The two of you separated for a second, Bucky’s cock still resting comfortably inside you and his broad frame engulfing you in bed. He paused a beat. Seemed to consider something in his mind before speaking aloud.

“Honey,” he started, unsure of how he wanted to say this.

You peered up at him, curious. His seed had filled every contour and crevice of your aching walls and was just then starting to dribble out of you. Bucky seemed unfazed. He cupped both hands around your face.

“I love you.”

You blinked. No fucking way you were hearing those words.

“What?” You felt too awestruck to say anything else.

“I love you,” Bucky repeated. A smile was starting to tug at his lips, his thumb tracing your cheek while you stared at him in disbelief.

You would’ve liked to speak.

Would’ve loved to say those three little words right back.

In fact, you had just opened your mouth to tell him that, when a sound at the foot of the bed startled you both.

The warm glow of moonlight pouring in from the window panes was your only means to see it. But sight wasn’t worth much at all when a man appeared and pressed the barrel of a gun to Bucky’s temple, letting out a chuckle.

Another man, clad head-to-toe in polished black tactical gear approached from the far end of the room. Bucky gritted his teeth but remained motionless, hearing that man cock his firearm as well. You were surrounded on either side of the bed. Your blood ran cold.

“Sorry to interrupt the fun, Mr. Barnes,” the man on the left spoke so low and gruff he could scarcely be heard.

When Bucky started to stir, the man on the right raised his pistol as well. Curled his finger on the trigger.

“We haven’t even met your beautiful bride.” A set of cruel, glinting teeth turned in your direction. Suddenly, all eyes were trained on you—along with a third handgun, pointed at your head, as another man approached.

“Wedded bliss treating you well so far, Mrs. Barnes?”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel #mcu #mob bucky barnes #marvel smut #marvel x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes #mob bucky #mafia!bucky #mafia bucky barnes

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monstacheol · 1 month ago

Text

𝔄 𝔊𝔦𝔣𝔱 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔞 𝔊𝔬𝔡

ϟ 𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: God! Choi Seungcheol x Mortal afab! Reader

ϟ 𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: Your marriage wasn't the one to be envied. Marry to one of the ruthless kings due to an arrangement from your father. Being nothing more than a pawn. And you despise it all.

On the night of drinking and celebrating, you decided to turn in for the night. As you walk into your shared bedroom, you are greeted by a God, but not just any other God. The God of Sky and Thunder. King of Gods himself. Who came with a gift.

ϟ 𝖂𝕮: 8.9K

ϟ 𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: Dom Zeus! Seungcheol, Sub Lady! Mortal Reader, dirty talking, breeding kink, oral (f. & m receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms and multiple positions, small amount or maybe more manhandling, a bit of praise kink or more, unprotected sex (stay safe kids), crying from pleasure, size kink, choking, your "husband" talking badly about the gods, Pet name: (y/n): darling. (I feel like I miss something but if I am. Let me know)

ϟ 𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙:: @gyuguys @ateez-atiny380 @cumiily @unlikelysublimekryptonite @okiedokrie-main @kyeomiis @black-swan-blog27 @acolytees @parkweylyn @odevote118 @cherricherryy @hamji-hae @missychief1404

ϟ 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘: This was kinda of inspired by a post I made and I thought about it and went "Yeah. Let's go for it." I did say that if my last work was good I would write the next prompt. And we're almost or at 800 notes on the last one, so here we are.

As I was writing this, I was a little nervous and kept telling myself that this isn't good and...Maybe it's not but as always, I want to improve myself. So I hope this is good as I tried my best. Not only that, I start school this month so I wanted to leave something before I take a small hiatus. I know, crazy. I literally just started but I need to focus so please enjoy this work I leave to you. Thank you for giving love to the teaser.

Please like, comment, and reblog for support and improvement, and as always. Let's go.

The room was filled with music, cheers, laughter from soldiers and giggles from women, and the smell of hearty food. It was another night in the throne room, where soldiers get drunk off their asses and celebrate while you sit back and watch them. It was disgusting to look at. Seeing how they drink without care. How they act like fools. Stuffing their faces like animals. Their boisterous behavior. It was revolting. The stench of alcohol and sweat filled the air, leaving you feeling sick to your stomach. You did not understand why men behaved this way; it was repulsive.

You heard the sound of "Ahhh" from behind you.

You turn to see the man who was your husband drinking his drink down his throat in one gulp. As he finishes, he raises his cup, shouting a loud cry that makes the soldiers cheer and raise their cups in response.

'Men.'

You shake your head in belief. "Another. Bring out more wine. Tonight, we celebrate our victory!" he declares, his voice booming with excitement. The soldiers erupt in cheers and laughter, the sound echoing through the evening as you roll your eyes at the soldiers' vibrancy. Your husband notices your exasperated expression and he smiles knowingly at you.

"Now, my wife," your husband says, pulling you close to his lap. His hand grips your chiffon dress. Your face twists with disgust as he attempts to kiss you. The taste of alcohol is heavy on his breath. You push him away gently, avoiding his advances. "Don't be so uptight, my love," he slurred, his words vaguely slurred. He grabs the bottle and pours more wine into the cup. "Drink up and join the revelry," your husband said, handing you a cup of wine.

You gently push the drink away and shake your head, declining his offer. "I'd rather not," you respond, annoyed and disappointed by his persistence. "Come now," your husband said before consuming the alcohol in his cup. "Loosen up a bit; enjoy the party," he urged, his voice growing firm. But you stand your ground, refusing to give in to his pressure and maintaining your boundaries.

"No thanks. I refuse to join in such revelry," you declare, firmly holding onto your decision. He sighs in frustration, clearly frustrated with your refusal.

Your "husband" wasn't the ideal man you pictured spending eternity with. The man you loved was kind. A man who said he would do anything for you. A man who said he would move the mountains from Olympus for you if he could.

He was the one man you ever cared for, but fate snatched him away from you as he died in battle, leaving you heartbroken and alone. You prayed for the gods to bring him back, saying you would do anything. But they didn't hear your prayers in the end. For weeks, you felt devastated and hopeless, grieving the death of your true love. A few days later, you were married to another man by arrangement. By a man who was ruthless, greedy, and only saw you as some pretty little trophy to show off to his peers. And that man happened to be your now husband. He appears one day in your land and promises your father victory in the war if he takes you as his wife. Your father approved no less, and my land was victorious, and now you are trapped here.

You did not care for him, your husband. You despised him with every fiber of your being. But you had no choice but to obey and fulfill your duties as his wife despite your husband 's constant disloyalty when he's away for war. You had to learn to accept your current reality and move on. You still thank the gods for giving you strength and tenacity despite having to put up with a man like him and his behavior. As you were lost in your thoughts, you were interrupted by the cheers and conversation of the troops.

"Did you see how we conquered our enemy?"

"They didn't know what hit them."

"Especially how our king slain their leader in a single combat?

"This victory belongs to the gods."

As you listened to the soldiers celebrate, you heard a sudden "HA" from your husband. The soldier stopped conversing as you turned to see your husband set his cup down.

"You thank the pitiful gods. And why should we thank them for our victory? No. Our victory belongs to us. Not those fickle gods who only watch from above. Our strength and determination enabled us to fight and conquer. Our bravery and perseverance ultimately led us to glory on the battlefield. The gods may have observed, but our actions secured victory," your husband said confidently.

You look at him in disbelief. How can he say that? How can he talk so boldly about them like that? You felt discomfort at his blasphemous words.

"You should not say that about the gods."

Your husband glanced at you at your words. "Oh, really," your husband spoke.

Gulping down his wine before continuing, "Share your thoughts, dear. Why should we thank those pathetic gods?" he asked, his tone challenging.

"They have given us everything to help us, and we must express gratitude for their blessings. If it weren't for them, you would not have won. We must honor them and acknowledge them. We should not anger them with our arrogance," you replied firmly.

Your husband's eyes narrowed. A flicker of annoyance crossed his face. "We continue to show our gratitude and respect for the gods, for they have guided us through many challenges and obstacles."

Your husband scoffed at your response, clearly not understanding the gravity of the situation. "Gratitude. Respect. Those are just words. Tell me, wife: Did Ares lead us to battle? No. Did Athena bless us with wisdom and strategy? No. Did the mighty Zeus himself strike down our enemies? No," he said, gulping down another cup of wine.

"It was I who led us to the battle. It was I who strategized and inspired my troops. It was us who struck down our enemies and emerged victorious." Your husband growled as his men cheered, agreeing unanimously with him.

"You see, our success is the result of our diligent work and perseverance, not some divine intervention," he declared proudly. "We are the masters of our own destiny, not at the mercy of the whims of the gods," he continued, instilling confidence in his men with his powerful words.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Your husband talks down to the gods. You were raised to respect and honor the gods. To thank them for everything they did. For the food they provided, for the safe travel home, for wisdom, for health. Everything. Now here he is, talking down to them. And you knew nothing would materialize if you spoke down to them. You felt disappointed at his lack of reverence for the divine forces that also played a part in their triumph. You couldn't understand how he could be so disrespectful to them, and you weren't going to stay there any longer and watch them celebrate.

You stood up from your husband's lap, and your husband looked at you in confusion. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"I'm going to bed."

Your husband looked puzzled and grabbed your wrist, holding you in place as you tried to pull away. "What? Just because I insulted the gods, you're really going to leave. Don't you think that's too much, dear?" he replied with a hint of frustration.

"No, my husband."

You snatched your wrist away from his grip. "What's too much is that you think I can stay with someone who insulted the gods after they granted us such favors and blessings? I cannot condone such disrespect, even from you." You turned and walked away, leaving your husband to ponder his actions.

You exit the throne room, strolling down the hall to your bedroom, feeling anger and disappointment. How can he not understand? How can a man be so selfish and ignorant? You shake your head in disbelief. As you strolled along, you saw your maid, Sumni, carrying merely a food tray. She looks up to see you and gasps slightly.

"My lady Y/N," your maid Sumni notices you.

Sumni was one of the people you genuinely enjoyed in this kingdom. She was a great listener, very attentive, and very kind. "Is everything okay?" she asks, concern evident in her voice. You pause, debating whether to confront her about your husband's behavior. But you nod your head and reply, "Yes, Sumni. I am fine. Just a bit tired, that's all."

Sumni nodded understandingly. "Would you like me to accompany you to bed?" she asked kindly. You shook your head and declined her offer, thanking her for her concern. Sumni smiled warmly at you before dismissing herself, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You continue your journey to the bedroom. As soon as you arrive at your bedroom door, you push the door open, step inside, and slightly close it. You sigh as your head presses against the frame, exhausted from the day's events.

"Long night!"

You heard a voice behind you. You turned around to see a mysterious man lying on his side across from your bed, a mischievous grin on his face. You felt a jolt of surprise at the man's unexpected presence in your bedroom. "Who are you?" you asked cautiously, your heart racing uncertainly. The man chuckled softly and replied, "I'm just someone who couldn't resist meeting you."

You glanced at the man's appearance. He had a white toga draped over his shoulder and a gold cuff wrapped around one of his biceps, which was exposed. His pec was exposed, while the other was concealed under the toga. His toga was short so that you could see his muscular legs. His eyes were pierced brown, and his smile was charming. His hair was black and wet, and he was breath-taking. The more you look at him, the more you find yourself drawn to his mysterious aura. You were so lost in thought that you heard him laugh.

"What's the matter, darling? Lost in thought?" he asks with a playful smirk.

You shook your head, cleared all your thoughts, and got to the question.

"W-What are you doing here? You are trespassing, and I would appreciate it if you left immediately," you stammer, feeling a mix of fear and fascination at the mysterious stranger in your room. The man chuckles, his grin widening as he replies.

"Oh, nothing. Just enjoying the celebration of your king's victory. As if your husband needed it," the man said.

A small scoff escaped his lips. "That your husband of yours," he continued.

"That man thinks we are not the reason behind his success. He's so power-hungry and incompliant that he can't even get on his knees and thank us after what we've done to make him victorious. I must say I don't think they'll be so happy to hear about that. It's a shame. Really. How ungrateful people can be," the man said with a hint of disappointment.

You listen as this man talks badly about your husband like he knows him. Before you could speak, he continued.

"But you, Lady Y/N."

You froze as the mysterious man said your name.

"You're such a loyal worshipper. You thank the gods for every endeavor and never falter in your devotion. A woman like you should be rewarded," the man expressed.

The way the man in front of you looks at you. It was like he was undressing you with his eyes. His gaze was intense and unwavering. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you tried to maintain your composure.

"W-Who are you?" you said, asking again.

The man smirked at my question.

"I am known by many names. Zojz. Tinia. Jupiter. Zeus. But," the man said as he slowly rose from your bed, full of confidence, "you can call me Seungcheol."

Your eyes widen in shock as you realize the man's true identity. "M-My... God," you stammer, feeling two emotions at once: fear and awe wash over you. You instantly fall to the floor, bowing. "Please forgive me for any disrespect I may have shown," you say, bowing your head in reverence.

Seungcheol chuckled softly, his grin widening at your reaction. A loyal follower, he thought to himself. He slowly approached you as you kowtowed before him, his presence towering over you. "Rise," he commanded gently, offering a hand to help you stand. As you looked up at him, you couldn't help but feel an admiration and reverence for the god standing before you.

"There will be no formalities," he said. As you take his hand and stand up, Seungcheol's eyes twinkle with amusement. He was taller than you expected, and his presence exuded a sense of power and authority that made you feel equally intimidated and intrigued.

"My god."

You were speechless. You didn't know what to say, and the words hadn't even begun to form. Seungcheol noticed your awe and chuckled softly.

"You seem lost in words right now, darling," Seungcheol said. His deep voice resonated through you, sending shivers down your spine. It was as if he could read your thoughts and emotions with just a glance.

"I- It's just that I didn't expect such a sudden visit," you stammered, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Would you like me to leave?" he asked. You shake your head quickly. "N-No. Please stay. I didn't mean—"

"Don't worry, darling," Seungcheol interrupted with a reassuring smile. "Just teasing you a bit."

His smile was gentle and warm, putting you at ease. He then stepped away from you and trailed around the room. Taking in everything about his surroundings, even looking at the unfinished tapestry mounted on the wall. With a persistent and powerful head, he strolled around.

"Besides, I didn't want to leave without giving you a gift," Seungcheol stated.

A gift... for you...

"W-What kind of gift?" is all you can manage to stammer out of. "A special one," he answered.

"How special is the gift?" you asked, curious. Seungcheol finally stopped walking and turned back to you with a mysterious glint in his eyes, making your heart race with anticipation.

"What if I told you that your gift, your special little gift, was something that I wanted to show you? To thank you for showing such admiration for me." Seungcheol responded with a mischievous smile. Your mind raced with possibilities as you waited for him to reveal the surprise he had in store for you.

"What if I said your gift was me? Would you believe me?" Seungcheol's eyes sparkled with anticipation as he waited for your response.

"Y-you, my god," you stammered out, feeling a rush of emotions at his unexpected revelation. Seungcheol nodded, a small smile playing on his lips.

"You have been such a loyal follower. Why not reward you for your dedication? Besides, I think you deserve it," he declared as his eyes never left yours.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Him. Your god. Offering himself. To you. As a gift. It left you speechless and overwhelmed with emotions. You couldn't. You didn't know what to say. Minutes ago, you were in the throne room with your husband and his soldiers, and now you're here with Seungcheol, your god, offering himself to you as a reward for your loyalty. The weight of his offer combined with the intensity of his gaze left you breathless and unsure of how to respond.

"My god."

"Seungcheol," he interrupted, his smile widening.

"Seungcheol. I-I couldn't conceivably accept such an offer," you stammered, turning around.

This was so much to process right now. You. You simply couldn't accept it, even though it was tempting. Even if you were completely captivated by him. You couldn't accept it. You just couldn't. The internal struggles were overwhelming as you were torn between your desire and your duty. The conflict within you was palpable, but you knew you had to answer.

You were so lost in your thoughts. You didn't even hear him coming behind you as you turned around and found him standing right before you. Frightened, you took a step back, and your back hit the wall behind you as he trapped you with his arms on either side of your head as he towered over you. Your breath quickened as you met his intense gaze.

"Why not?" Seungcheol softly asked.

His hand moved down to cup your cheek; his touch sent a shiver down your spine.

"Don't you want it? I mean, you've been such a good girl. Don't you want to be rewarded? For being such," Seungcheol said as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Loyal."

Another is placed on the bridge of the nose.

"Good."

Then your cheek. Then he trails down your neck, and your breath is caught in your throat as he pauses right there, teasing you with his lips hovering just above your collarbone.

"Girl."

It's then that he presses his lips against your collarbone, sending a wave of desire through your body. Suddenly, he trailed kisses up your neck, each setting off a fire within you. The sensation of his lips on your skin was electrifying, and every kiss he placed made your body ache, leaving a trail of heat in its wake and your pussy clenching around nothing. As he made his way up, he pulled away slightly, his lips ghosting over your ear, and whispered, "So... will you accept this gift of mine? This gift from a god?" His voice was low and seductive.

Both of you stared at each other. His gaze was intense, making your heart race. It was then that you stopped fighting. You stopped fighting the pull of attraction between you two and gave in to the overwhelming desire as you nodded slowly. "Ah. Ah. I need words, darling," he murmurs, his voice low and seductive.

Your breath comes short as you gather the courage to respond. "Yes," you utter, your voice barely above a whisper.

Seungcheol's smile widens, revealing a hint of satisfaction before his eyes glance down at your lips. Your heart pounded as he leaned in close. Is this happening right now? Is this really happening? You close your eyes anticipating a kiss, but he stops just inches from your lips. And he made a small 'hmm' sound. A slight flutter of your eyes opens your eyes to see that mischievous smile playing on his lips. Pulling away, he walked away as you stood there watching him as your heart raced. He walked toward the bed as he sat down, his legs spread. He slowly reached his hand out. "Come here," he commanded.

There is a slight gulp in your throat. Nervous. You slowly walked toward him. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest with every step you took. As soon as you reached him, you nervously touched his outstretched palm. He smiled softly before tugging you onto his lap, inducing a gasp from you softly. His grip was tight and possessive. Your heart pounded faster than it had before, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body as he pulled you closer. The tension in the room was palpable. Anticipation hangs heavy in the air. "Now," he suddenly spoke.

Seungcheol's eyes bore into yours, innocent as ever. "Give your god a kiss," he commanded, his voice low and commanding.

You hesitated for a moment. You bite your lips as you look at his plump lips, nervous. Your palms were even sweating. Slowly you lean in to give him what he wants, but then he softly leans back, avoiding you. You tried again, and he avoided you again, backing away. Every time you tried to approach him, Seungcheol avoided you repeatedly, just to purposely tease you.

You pull back, whining and pouting at his playful taunts, and he chuckles at your reaction as he enjoys the power he has over you. Suddenly Seungcheol's hand flew to the back of your neck, pulling in and smashing his lips against yours. Leaving you clinging to his shoulder, bracing yourself. The kiss was demanding and intense, making your head spin with desire. As if he were trying to consume you whole.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, bracing yourself for the overwhelming sensation of his kiss, releasing a soft moan of pleasure. Your heart raced as you surrendered to his dominance. His tongue expertly explored your mouth, creating an electric spark within you.

He pulled away from the kiss, leaving you gasping for breath. You could still feel the lingering heat of his touch on your lips and the surge of heat between your legs, which left you yearning for more. Seungcheol looks at you with dark eyes as a smirk plays on his lips. He saw your expression. That expression that is full of bliss and desire. Seeing you like this in this moment makes his cock twitch with anticipation.

"Beautiful," he murmurs huskily.

He leans in again, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, his hands wandering over your body with possessive intent. Your breath hitched as you eagerly responded to his touch, completely under his spell. Then he flipped position as he was on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he deepened the kiss. You melted into his embrace. With each kiss and each caress, you descended deeper into the abyss of desire he had engendered. He pulls away slightly to trail kisses down your jaw and neck. His lips leave a trail of fire in their wake. You let out a soft moan, craving more of his touch. His teeth graze lightly on your skin as he leans in and bites down on your neck as your back arches in pleasure, pulling him in closer.

His lips turned into a slight smirk on your neck as he knew he had got you where he wanted you. Now Seungcheol has been watching you. Hearing you. He hears many prayers now and then coming from the temple, but yours. Your prayer was the one he anticipated the most. Oh, how you praise them. How you thank the gods. How you take what they give and never waste a single blessing, especially when his name falls on your lips. The way it falls off your tongue sounds like sweet music to his ears. He cannot deny that your devotion intrigues him. You intrigue him.

So he had to meet you. He had to see the person behind the prayers and accolades, but he had to be patient; his patience could only wear so thin as he continued to watch you from the sky above. But now that he has got you like this, under his spell. Grasping, panting, and moaning in pleasure underneath him like this. Seungcheol was completely ecstatic right now.

He licks over the bite mark he places on your neck, savoring the taste of your flesh before moving back to your lips to capture your lips in another kiss. Hands roam over your chiffon dress, feeling every curve and dip in your body beneath the fabric. He pulled away slightly, his lips ghosting over yours.

"Let's take this off."

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Seungcheol slowly pulls the hems of your dress upward, exposing more and more of your skin as he goes as he looks with hungry eyes. As the dress finally slipped over your head, his gaze darkened with desire as he saw you lying there before him. My, did you look breathtaking? From your tousled hair to your gorgeous face to how your skin glowed in the dim light to your gorgeous curves. It was like the goddess, Aphrodite herself, had craved you into existence just for him. He couldn't take his eyes off you.

"S-Seungcheol," you stammered, feeling a rush of heat flood your cheeks as his intense gaze lingered on you. The growl that he held back when you spoke his name.

You couldn't help but feel nervous about how intensely he was staring at you. You tried to cover yourself, but his hand shot out to stop you, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Why are you covering yourself?" he asked softly.

"I-I."

"Why are you covering such a beautiful sight like this?" he whispered, his voice filled with admiration. Seungcheol pinned your hands above your head as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Don't you dare hide from me," he warned, his eyes dark with desire.

You softly gasp at his words at his command. His eyes look at you up and down. "Or," he started.

"Or," you repeat in a shaky voice.

"Or... are you just shy, Y/N?" he taunted.

You didn't say anything, but your red cheeks said it all. A chuckle escaped his lips. "My, what a shy darling I appear to have tonight," he murmured, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. "But don't worry, I'll make sure you're not shy for long."

His free hand trailed to your breast and caressed it gently. Your skin felt so soft under his touch, and you couldn't help but exhale. He smirked at your sudden reaction. Then his hand trailed down to your underwear, feeling the wet patch forming there.

"You're so wet. Did all of that kissing get you excited?" he teased.

You struggled to answer as he rubbed his thumb over the damp fabric, causing you to whine and leak out more slick. You squirm under his touch. "Answer me, darling. Tell me, did it?" Your mouth opens, letting out a breathless "yes" before he leans in and presses his lips against yours, deepening the kiss, swallowing your moan as his fingers continue to tease you. Without breaking the kiss, he slowly slides your underwear off, exposing your most intimate parts.

Seungcheol moves off your body to kneel at the foot of the bed. Seungcheol grabs your legs, pulling you over the edge of the bed, causing you to yelp. He spread your legs apart, revealing your wet core, his gaze smoldering with hunger. He spread your folds with his fingers, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. The way your arousal glistened in the dim light made his desire grow even more intense. You look down at him, your chest rising and descending in anticipation. "Please," you whispered, your voice barely audible in the heated moment.

Oh, the way you plead for him. The way you beg him to devour you. So he did. Without hesitation, he dove in, devouring you with passion. You gasp, eyes fluttering shut as your hand tugs at his hair. The tug caused him to groan into your cunt, adding vibration. The way your arousal tasted on his tongue. It was intoxicating. It was so good. It was so delicious. It was so... addictive. With a delighted sneer on his lips, he withdrew for a while before whispering, "Fuuck. You taste divine," and then he dove back in.

The sensation of his tongue and lips on your sensitive areas sends shivers down your spine, making you arch your back in pleasure. The way he ate you out. It was different. It was something you had never experienced before. He ate you like a man who had been deprived of a feast for far too long, savoring every moment of it. And he didn't want to stop until you were completely spent and trembling beneath him.

"I just can't get enough of you. You taste so good. So sweet," he murmurs before diving back in as he continues to lap and slurp at your dripping wet core, determined to make you lose control completely. You arch your back in pleasure and moan his name, feeling the intensity build with each flick of his tongue.

His tongue moved to your entrance and inserted his tongue inside as his nose nuzzled against your clit. "Seungcheol," you moan breathlessly, feeling the pleasure intensify with each movement of his skilled tongue.

"Feel good?" Seungcheol whispers huskily, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "Yes. So good," you whisper back, completely lost in the sensations he's giving you. Your answer pleased him. His tongue expertly flicked and probed, sending shivers down your spine as you moaned in pleasure.

He went back to your sensitive nub and sucked on it gently, making you gasp and squirm with pleasure. His tongue expertly flicked and probed, sending shivers down your spine as you moaned in pleasure. You begin to feel a wave of pleasure building up deep within you, ready to crash over you. "Seungcheol. Please. "No," you begged as you shut your eyes, completely overwhelmed by the sensation.

"Look at me. Look at me," he commanded, his voice low and husky. You locked eyes with him, feeling the intensity of his gaze as he continued to titillate you with his mouth.

"Look at me as you cum all over my face," he growled, the sound sending a jolt of desire through you.

With his eyes never leaving yours, he increases the pressure and speed of his movements, bringing you closer and closer to the brink until eventually, you explode in a mind-blowing orgasm that leaves you breathless and completely satisfied. You lay there panting, out of breath. He gave one final lick, letting a whine out of you before pulling away, a satisfied grin on his lips. He wipes the last of your essence with his thumb before licking it off, enjoying the taste of your release, watching you rest in the afterglow of your orgasm.

It took you some time to gather yourself as you lay on the bed, deeply absorbed in thought. You feel trails of kisses coursing up your body, causing shivers to run down your spine as you bask in your post-orgasmic bliss. Seungcheol pulls away from your body to undress himself. Finally removing the toga from his body, revealing his naked form.

"Shouldn't I get a reward as well?" Seungcheol grinned.

You sat up slowly as you looked at his naked form. His body was a work of art, every muscle defined and his skin glowing in the soft light of the room. Your eyes travel down to see his cock standing at attention. His cock was long and thick. The tip was red and glistening with pre-cum, a clear indication of his arousal. It made your mouth water. You could already feel yourself getting wet just looking at it.

"What's the matter, darling? Never seen a cock like mine before?" He teased, his voice husky with desire.

"It's so big. I don't think it will fit," you whispered.

"Don't worry," Seungcheol said before reaching his hand out and stroking your cheek. "It'll fit," he assured. With that, he kisses your cheek before pulling you up to stand. He sits down on the bed, his legs spread. Cock, hard and ready. "On your knees," he commanded, his tone firm yet gentle. You complied and got down on your knees. You can hear him mutter 'Good girl' under his breath.

The moment you were right there between his legs, you were a vision. His hand lightly cups your chin and tilts your head up towards him, gently stroking your cheek.

"Open," he commends. You obey and open your mouth as he inserts two fingers inside your mouth, stroking the pink muscle with meticulous care, causing you to moan softly.

He slowly thrust his fingers in and out, watching your reaction closely. He could hear you gag slightly as he pushed further, testing your limits. Your eyes watered slightly, but you maintained eye contact with him, eager to please. With a smirk, he removed his fingers, giving you time to catch your breath. Seungcheol leaned back on the bed as you collected your breath, holding himself up by his muscular arms as his gaze never left yours. "Now please your god," he commanded.

You nod your head in recognition. With nervous hands, you grab his cock as you look up at him, a mixture of elation and nerves. You close your eyes and place his cock on your tongue, savoring the salty taste of his pre-cum.

"That's it. Good girl," he whispered, his words low and encouraging.

You swirl your tongue around the tip, making him bite his lips in pleasure. The moment your mouth wraps around the tip, Seungcheol groans and rolls his eyes back, tilting his head back in pleasure as he lets out a deep, guttural moan. The sensation of your warm mouth enveloping him sends waves of ecstasy through his body, making him tremble with desire.

"Fuck, darling. Your mouth feels wonderful." He reaches down to tangle his fingers in your hair, guiding you as you slowly bob your head.

He lets out a low growl of pleasure as you please him. His half-lidded eyes gaze at you with a mixture of desire and adoration, his breath coming out in short, ragged gasps. God, did you look pretty with your mouth around his cock? He couldn't take his eyes away. You look so perfect. The feeling of your tongue swirling around him. The warmth of your mouth accompanied by the wetness of your lips. The feeling of your soft moan around him and the sight of your wide innocent eyes staring up at him only intensified his arousal. He couldn't resist the urge to thrust his hips, wanting to feel more of you while constantly praising you. "You're so fucking good at this," he groaned.

"Look at you. Being such a good girl, treating your god with such reverence. You like pleasing your god?" Seungcheol asked with a smirk, his voice filled with satisfaction. You nodded eagerly, your eyes filled with desire and devotion as you served him with your mouth. "Such a good girl. Such pretty lips wrapped around me," he murmured as he guided your movements. You moan in response as he increases the pace, his words fueling your arousal even more.

His hand took you deeper until his cock hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag. He uttered a low growl of pleasure. "That's it; take it all. You were made to worship me," he whispered, his hips thrusting with increased urgency and need as he reveled in your worship. Your hand lands on his thighs as you dig your nails into his skin. Drool coming from the corners of your mouth, and tears stream down your cheeks as you try to keep up with his fast pace.

His abdomen tightened as he was getting close. Real close. "Fuck. I'm going to cum so hard in that pretty little mouth of yours," Seungcheol moans, his hips thrust forward as he nears his climax. As you wait for him to release, you can feel his body tighten, his breath catch, and his cock twitch inside your mouth. It doesn't take long before he's spilling himself down your throat, his moans and groans filling the room.

The taste of his cum lingers on your tongue as you swallow. Some spill out of your mouth and drip down your chin. You pull away with a 'pop.' "Fuck," he curses under his breath, his hand running through his damp hair as he tries to catch his breath. "Did I satisfy you, my god?" you inquired. A small chuckle escapes his lips. Oh, how you enticed him. He leans down, grabs your face, and pulls you in for a deep kiss. You melted into the embrace as the kiss became more intense and passionate, losing yourself in the moment. He could taste the lingering taste of his essence on your lips.

Seungcheol pulls away slightly, his lips hovering over yours, and answers your question. "Oh, more than you ever known, darling," he said. His lips returned to yours; the kiss was so passionate and electric. He gently stood you up, beckoning you to straddle his lap. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss.

He rose, his hands firmly gripping your waist, and kneeled to lay you down gently, never releasing the kiss in the middle of the bed. Your bodies are pressed together in a passionate embrace. He pulls away to lay open-mouth kisses on your neck, leaving marks all over as his hand gently caresses your breast. You never had someone that drove you crazy with a desire like this. His touch was electrifying; it sent a shiver down your spine and left you wanting more. Every touch, every kiss, and every caress made you feel alive in a way you had never experienced before. And you wanted more. Your hips buckle against his touch, grinding against his body in a silent plea for more, yet he stops your hips from grinding, keeping you still.

"Seungcheol. Please."

"Patient darling," Seungcheol uttered into your neck. His voice was deep and soothing. His hand traveled to land on your wet core, and his finger began to rub tiny circle on your clit causing you to gasp.

"I need to prep you. We don't want it to hurt, do we?" He continued, his touch gentle yet firm. His hand spreads your folds apart to expose your entrance. His fingers slowly enter you, stretching you in a way that makes you moan with pleasure. "Just relax," he whispered before kissing your cheek. His slow and deliberate movements ensured you were ready for what was to come.

Then he added a second finger, increasing both pressure and intensity. The sensation of being filled and stretched by him made you arch your back in pleasure.

"That's it. That's my good girl. You're so warm," he whispers.

His mouth soon wrapped around your nipple as he scissors you open. You couldn't stop the moan from escaping. "You're doing so well," he whispers, his voice filled with admiration and desire. The mix of his sucking and biting on your breast to his finger massaging your walls made you feel close to the edge of losing control. His touch drove you insane. And when he curled his finger, touching that spongy spot, you couldn't help but moan loudly in pleasure. "There. Right there."

Letting your breast go with a pop, he murmurs, "Hm. There." His movements intensify as he focuses on that sensitive area. You nod your head, encouraging him to keep going. He smiles and increases the pressure before attacking the other breast with the same frequency. Your body arches towards him, unable to contain the emotions coursing through you.

"Look how well you take my fingers inside that tight little pussy of yours. You're doing good for me," he growls, his voice low and husky. Your moans increased as his fingers moved so rapidly that you could barely keep up with the overwhelming pleasure. Your mind had gone blank. You didn't hear anything but the sound of your own ragged gasps, the pounding of your heart in your ears, and the squelching sound of your wetness as he continued to please you.

It was so intense that you felt your whole body tremble. Every never-ending was on fire as he plowed into and out of your cunt. As he continued, you could feel the tension building up inside you, ready to explode at any moment. Your breathing quicken. Your heart raced as you were on the edge. On the edge of pure pleasure

"S- Cheol. Close," you gasp out, feeling the heat pooling in your core. His movements become more urgent, pushing you closer to the edge.

"Oh. You gonna cum again. Go ahead, darling. Cum. Cum on my fingers," he encouraged. Your breath was ragged, and your moan was loud as you finally reached your peak, intense pleasure washing over you in waves. Seungcheol's fingers continued their relentless pace, prolonging your climax until you were left trembling and spent. His movement slows down as he watches you come down from your high.

"Good girl," he praises you with a smirk as his fingers slowly withdraw from your sensitive core. You whimper as Seungcheol lightly taps your oversensitive clit a few times before slipping his wet fingers into his mouth and tasting the remnants of your desire. He moans at the delicious flavor.

"I can't get enough of you," he murmurs, his eyes dark with desire as he leans in to kiss you deeply. The taste of yourself on his lips only heightens your arousal, and you eagerly respond to his hungry kisses. He shifts himself between your legs, grinding into you as his cock presses against your slick fold.

He wrapped his hand around his cock and slowly stroked it before placing it on your entrance, collecting all of your wetness as he teased you with the tip. "Ready," he whispers huskily. You nod your head.

"Please," you beg, arching your hips towards him, desperate for him to fill you. He obliges, slowly entering you with a groan of pleasure, causing you to gasp at the feeling of fullness. And god, was he big? He was practically splitting you open with every push he made. You never knew you could be this full. Just as you took him all the way in, you felt like absolute heaven.

"Damn, darling. You feel so incredible," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

You cling to him, feeling every inch of him deep inside you. He look at you, asking for permission to move and you granted it. He began to move in a slow and deliberate rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could not help moaning in ecstasy, totally absorbed in the sensation of being conquered by him. It was a feeling that you had never experienced before. It was intoxicating and overwhelming in all the right ways. Seungcheol grated at your facial expression. You look beautiful, he thought inwardly. The way your face twisted in pleasure. The way your body moves with every thrust. The way you look underneath right now. It only fuels his desire to give you more.

So his hands grabbed your hips and plunged deeper, setting a fast pace that had you gasping for breath. The intensity of his movements matched the passion in his gaze, making you feel desired and cherished in a way that left you craving more.

"Such a good girl. Taking me in so deep," he praises, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he sets a rhythm that has you seeing stars. Your body responds eagerly to his every movement, increasing the intensity with each thrust. The pleasure is overwhelming, making you lose yourself in the moment. He lifts your leg and places it on his shoulder, opening you up even further and allowing him to penetrate even deeper. The sensation of him hitting that perfect spot deep inside you sends waves of ecstasy through your body, making you arch your back and moan uncontrollably.

"Feel good, darling," he said, his voice husky with desire.

"Yes. So good."

He smirked at your response, knowing he was driving you wild with pleasure. "Really?"

He asks teasingly, his eyes dark with lust as he proceeds to move with deliberate precision.

"I-Is-."

You started.

"Is. What is it? Come on, tell me, darling," he urged, his fingers gripping your hips firmly as he quickened his pace. The moment's intensity was overwhelming, making it difficult for you to form coherent words as you surrendered to the pleasure coursing through your body.

"I-Is. Is it good for you, my god?" You finally stammered out, your voice barely audible over your ragged breaths. He released a low, guttural groan before murmuring, "It's more than good, darling."

His movement slows down as he leans over to you, his lips hover over yours, his forehead pressing against each other, and his eyes gaze into yours as he slowly grinds into you.

"You feel so amazing around me," he whispers before his lips press against yours in a passionate kiss, sending a surge of electricity through your entire being.

Pulling away from the kiss, he took hold of your waist and plunged into you with the same rhythm but more rough and strenuous, leaving you gasping for air. The intensity of the moment is almost too much to bear; you can practically feel tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. But you welcomed it with open arms, craving the raw connection and overwhelming pleasure he brought to you.

Your body moves in complete harmony as his thrusts intensify. You were lost in the bliss of the moment. And just when your stomach began to tighten, just when you felt yourself being tipped over the edge again, he pulled out, leaving you empty. You whimpered in protest, but he flipped you over onto your stomach. Putting you on your hands and knees. His hand grips your hip tightly and enters you from behind, his movements rough and primal. You couldn't help but scream as you pressed your face against the sheets. Your back perfectly arched. The change in position only heightened the intensity of the moment, leaving you breathless, and his movements became even more intense and passionate.

"Oh god," you gasp, gripping the sheet underneath you, feeling every inch of him inside you. The sound of skin smacking against skin fills the room, your moans blending with his growls as he thrusts harder and deeper.

"Fuck, you're so perfect. Sucking me in like this," he grunts, his voice husky with desire, his eyes rolling back in his head as he loses himself in the pleasure of the moment.

His hands gripped your hips tightly, his movements becoming more intense and desperate. The tears that you held back, you finally let flow down your cheeks, mingling with the sweat that coated your skin. You can't deny it. You were in bliss. Completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure. And every time he pulled out, you pulled him back in, craving more of his touch. You were addicted to him, and he was addicted to you.

Seungcheol hovers over you as his chest presses against your back. You felt his hand wrap around your throat, tightening his grip as he pounded into you with relentless force. You moaned, unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure. You could feel his breath on your skin as he spoke in your ear.

"Tell me, my dear. Who is making you feel this good?" Seungcheol whispers, his voice deep and commanding. You can't help but moan softly in response, feeling completely consumed by him in that moment.

"Y-you are," your stammering manages to enunciate.

"Louder," he demanded.

His hand squeezed your throat, and you gasped.

"Who is pleasing you like this?" he asks, his grip tightening slightly. Your body shivers in response to his commanding tone, feeling a rush of excitement as you surrender completely to him. "You are," you finally gasp out, your voice filled with desire and need.

"More. Who is making you scream like this? Come on. Tell me. Who?" he growls, his eyes dark with desire. His grip on your throat tightens even more, sending a jolt of pleasure. You feel a surge of arousal at his dominance, unable to resist his commanding presence. "You are. You are," you chant in a breathless whisper, your body trembling with anticipation. "Only you."

"That's right. Me. All me. Not that pathetic excuse of a man you call your husband. Me. It is I who is pleasing you. It is I who is making you feel utter bliss. It is I who is making you scream for all of Olympus to hear. And it is I who's going to fill your cunt with so much of my seed that you'll be swollen with my child," Seungcheol finished, his voice dark and possessive.

Your heart races as his words send chills down your spine. The intensity of his desire overwhelms you. You can't help but surrender to the power he holds over you. His dominant presence left you breathless, and his words ignited a fire within you that you couldn't resist.

"C-Cheol," you moan, your voice barely audible.

"That's right. Say my name. Scream it if you have to. Let the whole kingdom hear. You are mine," he growls, his grip on your neck loosening as your body drops on the bed. Pulling away, his hands grip your hips as he plunges into you with primal intensity.

Your moan turned into screams of pleasure as you felt the tension rising within you once again. You knew you couldn't hold back for much longer.

"I c-ca.. so close," you whisper, feeling the heat building in your core as Cheol's movements become more urgent and desperate. Your body trembles with anticipation, on the brink of ecstasy, as you give in to the overwhelming pleasure he's providing.

"Huh. You're close. Go ahead. I can feel you squeezing around my cock. Go on. Cum on this cock. Cream all over me," he commands, his voice rough with desire. You feel yourself shatter under his touch, the world fading away as you reach your peak, crying out his name in a final release of pleasure.

You were pulsating with a mixture of pleasure and relief, your body still trembling as you came down from the intense high he had brought you to. But, oh, he was far from done with you yet. Seungcheol flipped you over on your back. Cock still lodge into you. He grabs your legs and pins them close to your chest as he bends forward and puts you in a mating press, thrusting deep and hard. And you scream in pleasure as your arm wraps around his neck, listening to the squelching wet noise coming from your abused hole. Your body quivers at the force of his movements. This position has Seungcheol in deeper than before.

"S-Seungcheol. So deep. Oh so good," you gasp out between moans, feeling every inch of him inside you. Your hands clutch his back, your nails digging into his skin as he plunges into you with increasing intensity.

"You like how I please you? You like how I reward you? Hmm. Fuck, this pussy is so good.Make me want to bring you back with me. Is that what you want? To take you to Olympus. Have you warm my bed and be treated like a queen and be bred by me again and again?" Seungcheol whispers in your ear as he continues to plunge into you relentlessly.

"Yes," you screamed. "Yes, I love it. I love it so much. I want it. I want it so badly. You fuck me so good, Seungcheol," you moan.

So does he. He wants it so… bad. The thought of you on Olympus with him in his arms, being treated like royalty, and experiencing pleasure beyond imagination drives him wild. He can't resist the temptation to have you by his side. To take you away from this kingdom. To make you his own forever.

"Please. Please make me yours. Fill me with your seed. Fill me up, my God," you beg, your voice resounding with desperation and desire.

Your words fuel his desire as he pulls away, spreading your legs apart to take hold of your waist. He slightly raises your body and picks up the pace, thrusting harder and deeper into you. You felt a wave of pleasure overtake you as he ravaged you. Soon that tension started to build up again. You call out his name, begging for release. He groans in response, feeling on edge himself.

"Fuck. I'm close. Are you ready? Ready for your gift? Make sure you don't waste a single drop. Cum. Cum with me," he growls, his voice low and husky with lust. You nod eagerly. Your hand grips the sheets tightly, and your body perfectly sync with his, meeting each thrust with equal enthusiasm.

And with a final thrust, you both came together as he released his hot seed inside you, filling you up with a sense of completion and satisfaction. Your bodies trembled with the aftermath of your shared climax, leaving you both breathless and spent in each other's arms. You couldn't hear anything but the sound of your own heart pounding. Suddenly, Seungcheol pulled out, making you whimper slowly. He noticed that his cum was slowly leaking out of your hole, so he scooped up the remaining and pushed it back inside you with his fingers, causing you to gasp. His fingers massage your sensitive walls before he pulls them out gently as he goes to your stomach, caressing it softly and looking at it fondly.

"There, darling. Your gift. And soon this gift will blossom into something truly miraculous. So they can be loved, nurtured, and cherished. You will give them your love and support, and I will guide them to be the best. You will take care of my gift, won't you?" Seungcheol said as he looked up at you, still stroking your stomach.

"Yes, I will," you replied.

"Good, and if anyone harms them," he said with a dangerous glint, "I will make sure they regret it."

You nod your head at his words. "Good girl," he commented.

His hand caressed your cheek tenderly. "I cannot wait to see our gift grow," he said, his voice filled with antiradiation.

"May our child have my eyes and your looks," you said. Seungcheol heard your response and chuckled casually.

"Yes," he said, reaching out to push back the locks. He leans in and presses his forehead against yours and whispers,

"May our child have your wisdom and my strength."

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bunnys-kisses · 2 months ago

Note

Hi 👋 could I please order a

Maple Cream Pie with a Tonic Water, a Naked & Famous and a Hard Lemonade.

Please, for Lando Norris.

bakery menu!

thank you for submitting an order! i love getting them and have been trying my best to get through all of them! as for this one, thank you for the submission. i love what you ordered and i hope that you enjoy the fic! i messed around with the ages a bit since lando is only 24 (fuckin' baby), so i slowly inserted it into the team principal au where it does made the age gap a lil bigger! (i hope you dont mind)

maple cream pie ("either you wear the necklace with my name on it, or wear my bruises around your neck.") + tonic water (age gap) + naked & famous (bimbo/ditzy!reader) + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour)

cw: smut/pwp, team principal au, age gap (20s/40s), possessive behavior, reference to sugar daddy, bimbo!reader, mean!lando, innocent!reader, missionary position, dirty talk

lando didn't like sharing his toys. and now at almost forty he didn't like sharing the little thing he called his girlfriend. at his age, he shouldn't be chasing after women who barely held down a full-time job in their whole life. he should be settled down with a wife and some kids, at least that was what oscar told him. (damn bastard had been married for ten years with three kids now), instead lando chased young tail like he chased trophies.

except instead of a racer he was the team principal of mclaren. maybe it was the chip on his shoulder that year after year throughout his racing career, he barely missed the wdc. now as principal he could make sure that his drivers did better than he did. maybe it was to relive his youth, the way having you on his arm made him feel in his twenties again.

your smile could warm a brick of ice. especially when you tried to cover your mouth when you got shy. you stood out in the paddock, you were dressed so sweetly. while most were in branded with the mclaren logo. you were in a pretty sundress. it was an olive green colour with off white flowers printed on it.

lando saw you playfully slap his driver on the shoulder before you giggled. it made him get up from his desk and take off his headphones. he clenched his fists before he draped an arm around your shoulders. he smiled at his driver as you got pushed against his chest.

"what are you doing, sweetheart? shouldn't you be with the other girls? this is the boy's area." he said, as if there weren't more women in formula one since he raced.

you looked to your lover and giggled, "well, i wanted to see the action! and he was filling me in with what was going on."

he looked at his driver, the younger man wanted to fill you with something that was for sure. didn't help that the dress showed more of your breasts than he usually liked. lando looked to the other man and said, "i think it's time to get in the car soon. big day today."

the driver nodded, wanting to impress his boss. lando felt a swell of pride at his ability to scare off the younger man without much effort. his attention was taken back to you as you held onto the front of his shirt.

"meanie."

"meanie, huh?" lando laughed a little, "i'm not a meanie, sweetheart."

you nodded. you were so dumb it was cute, it was like a kitten that hadn't grown their teeth. you nipped rather than bit. you needed to be protected, sheltered. and the new mclaren driver was getting too close.

lando dropped his hand to your ass and gave it a firm squeeze, "right, right. because a meanie would buy his beloved girl anything she asked for. or make sure she was comfortable on every trip. all paid for, but i'm the real meanie right."

you dropped your shoulders a little, "you're not a meanie, landy."

he smiled and kissed you on the top of the head, "thank you, babe. now why don't you go see the others. race is gonna start soon." then gave your ass a pat before you left.

it would be a few nights later in your shared home. lando would meet you in the bedroom with a box. it wasn't an engagement ring. but something else. when you opened it, his eyes lingered on you.

"what is it?" you asked.

he smiled, "just open it. i promise it won't bite." then sat on the edge of the bed as you carefully opened the box. his eyes lingered on your breasts in the thin tank top you wore to bed.

inside the box was a gold necklace. a thin chain with his name on it, "lando". you picked it up from the box and admired it. you looked up at him and he kept his smile.

"either you wear the necklace with my name on it, or wear my bruises around your neck." his tone was dark, but his smile was like the sun, "i have to make sure that no one gets the wrong idea. i don't like sharing, babe. i'm greedy."

you nodded. so soft under his touch. you only wanted to make lando happy, be his special girl. you said to him, "you know i'd never cheat."

lando took your face in his hands and pulled you in for a heated kiss, "i know. it's not you i have the issue with. it's other men. the most dangerous thing on the planet is a man. and i need you safe. protected." before he got on top of you, to savour his girl, he put the necklace on you. he said, "there, that's perfect." he then cupped your breasts before he licked his lips, "it's improved your whole look."

you yelped as he got you onto your back and his hands on the waistband of the panties you were going to sleep in. you could feel his hungry gaze on you.

"such a little dummy." he chuckled as he yanked the panties down, "the prettiest thing i own." something curled in your stomach. a much older man with a lot of power at his disposal, yearning for something to pretty to fuck.

you practically wore a collar with his name on it so in case you got lost, someone would find you and bring you back to him. it was cute. with your soft lips and the roundness to your face. you looked like a painting on a chapel ceiling. an angel that lando got to pluck the wings off almost every evening.

your body responded to him well as he pushed the tank top off of you, revealing your stomach and eventually your breasts. lando realized that he liked women with a little softness to them. models were pretty, but you were beyond pretty. you curves as soft as your personality. a little dumb for him, nothing in that little head of yours. it was cute. that was why lando was so protective (possessive) of you.

once you were naked, you laid out on the bed. the soft bed that you slept in almost every night. lando got on top of you and eyed your naked form. stripped of everything except for the necklace. it was cute. maybe lando would break his promise and bruise up your pretty throat with his bites.

he got undressed and got between your legs with your knees bent. he even grabbed one of the pillows to elevate your hips for him. to get at the right angle.

"you're mine, right?" he said, "no one else's?"

you nodded, "of course, landy. i'm yours!" your voice was a little higher, sweeter for him. and it made something curl in his gut. you were so innocent, sweet in a way.

"that's what i like to hear, baby. you're such a good girl for me. letting me have a taste of you as often as i can. that's why i have to make sure you don't go running off. you're one in a million and i can't take a chance like that. losing something to sweet. it would be criminal."

his voice was tinged with possessiveness. and when he sank into you and started with a quick pace, you yelped and clung onto him tightly. your back arched a little at the feeling of his cock inside of your slick pussy. even though you were soaked between your legs, the intrusion was still a lot for you.

"you are so pretty on my cock. this is where you belong. letting me fuck you until you get your fill. you're a greedy little thing, aren't you? i'm pretty sure i could throw you to the mclaren team and it wouldn't be enough for you. put you in a little bikini and a sign in your ass saying that you're free use. first come, first serve. and let them all have their way with you." his pace quickened as his cock felt like it was going to bruise your insides.

you whimpered and arched your back. your hands found the pillow under your head as he fucked you heavily. he panted heavily, paired with your loud moans. you were always so loud, lando one time had to gag you with your panties when he fucked you in his office. in fairness, maybe he could slow down the pace. but where was the fun in that?

lando continued, he was a man on a mission. determined in a way that made heat rise in his gut. you looked so good on your back, under him. the steady rise and fall of your chest. your sweet moans and heavy pants. how you clung to the pillow with your pretty nails. lando made your lifestyle possible, the best you could do was reward him with your pussy. a thank you for all the hard work he does.

"please, ah!" you whimpered as you arched your back a little more. you felt the heat in your gut. your cunt felt like a dream around his cock. your toes curled from the sensation. "please, please, ah! lando!"

"so pretty." he said as he continued to thrust into you. his pace was aggressive, almost bruising. he watched you squirm a little as your noises got louder and tighter.

"i'm cumming!" you whined as you felt climax crash over you. you tensed up for a moment, which made lando see stars, before you relaxed with a heavy exhale.

"fuck." he panted as he continued to ram into you. the sounds of your fucking filled the room paired with your soft, post-orgasmic moans. he watched you kick out your legs a little. all the fight left your body. he finished inside of you soon after with a loud groan, his cock shoved as deep as it could go.

he knew it was a risky game with unprotected sex. but, just like everything else. lando would take care of it if anything went wrong. he admired your blissed out features. in your own little dumb world as the after shocks of pleasure coursed through you.

"perfect." hes aid softly before he pulled out.

you laid out next to him on the bed as you tried to catch your breath. lando took you gently by the chain you wore, the necklace he bought you. and you laid up next to him. curled up at his side.

lando rubbed the side of your head lovingly as he chuckled a little bit. "this is how i like you, sweetheart. all curled up next to me." he got your leg over his thigh and held it as he kissed at your face.

maybe next time he'll take some photos of his precious girl in nothing, but your little necklace. maybe sharing those around the paddock will keep those men away from you. <3

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