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Mob Bucky respects your own financial independence, but he also made sure you have access to his black card and use it when you need it. He doesn't care what you spend the money on, especially since the notification he gets those very rare times that you use his money is to buy something most practical or for your shared apartment.
However, he does not expect to see a notification for the purchase of some sex toys đ
CHOCOLATE
Collection: DEVOUR Characters/Pairings: Mob Boss!James Buchanan Barnes x Female!Chef!Reader Word Count: 5.6k Timeline: Takes place 1-2 weeks after mint, 2-3 weeks after heat.
Content & Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT - vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse, creampie, food play, breeding kink. Feelings, so many feelings.
Author Notes: Surprise! At some points during the 2200 Followers Celebration poll, Devour Bucky and Chef were actually winning, so here's something I started months and months ago and brought out to finish for them. It's not quite everything from your ask, Eva, but I hope it's a satisfying scenario all the same...
â Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
You had known the exact moment your fiancĂŠ â mob boss, venture capitalist, or philanthropist depending on who you asked and what they knew â got the notification of your purchase.
James Buchanan Barnes had given you a black card weeks ago, before the engagement, but you hadnât used it until this week. Bucky had gone to Chicago for business (and you were sure he was there for business as well), and instead of staying home and pining away for him, you decided to treat yourself. The notification must have pinged his phone during a meeting, because exactly 47 minutes later, your own phone lit up with his name.
"What's this Cartier expense I see?" his voice a dangerous mix of amusement and curiosity.
You swallowed hard, fingering the velvet box in your lap. "Just a little shopping therapy while you're away. Nothing to worry about."
"Mmm," he hummed, unconvinced. "And here I thought I was the one who was supposed to shower you with gifts."
"Well," you said, "maybe I wanted to surprise you for once."
There was a pause, and you could almost see him leaning back in his chair, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "I suppose I am a little surprised you finally used the card. But how about a challenge?â
âWhat do you have in mind?â
âWhy donât you see if you can shock me with a purchase?â
âChallenge accepted. What do I get?â
He chuckled. âYou already know Iâll give you the world.â
Butterflies surged in your stomach. This man.
âYouâre back Saturday afternoon?â you confirmed.
âYes,â he growled. âThereâs a round of golf I canât seem to move or negotiate.â
You sighed softly. âItâs only three more days.â
âI like that you miss me.â
You huffed but couldnât deny it.
âIâm missing you, too,â he said.
âJamesâŚâ you breathed.
âDid you get the gift I sent?â
âI did.â A stunning, six-foot mirror with an ornate, gold-gilded frame had been delivered that morning to your apartment and placed in your bedroom.
âI was taken with how beautiful it was and you were my first thought.â
Your heart skipped a beat. âI love you,â you said.
âI love you, too. I have to go. Weâll talk later.â
When you woke up Friday morning, you knew exactly how to shock him with the black card.
Or at least tease him.
The high-end, ridiculously expensive lingerie boutique you never thought you would enter in your lifetime - Boudoir.
The response to that expense notification was immediate, and you smirked when you read the text that came through.
JAMES: You have my interest piqued.
You thought for a moment, then typed out a reply.
YOU: Thought maybe Iâd see if I can shock you and send some photos of what I got later tonight.
Three dots appeared straight away, and then
JAMES: Forget photos, Iâll fly out tonight straight away after my meeting with Levinson and come straight to you.
Your breath caught in your throat, heart swelling with adoration, anticipation, and maybe just a touch of nerves. You looked up the latest flights out of Chicago, and couldnât help feeling a little forlorn. Even though the restaurant head chef life meant late nights for work, it would still be an ungodly hour when he landed.
YOU: Iâll try to stay up, but promise to wake me up if Iâm asleep?
Again, you didn't have to wait long for his reply.
JAMES: I promise. Nothing could keep me from you tonight.
A shiver ran down your spine at his words. You glanced at the clock - it was barely noon. The hours until his arrival stretched before you, filled with anticipation and nervous energy. You busied yourself with things before work, trying to focus on anything other than the ticking clock and the bag from Boudoir sitting in your closet.
At Devour your mind was engaged fully in your craft and working with your team.
But once you returned home after the Friday night dinner service, you found yourself pacing the apartment, unable to settle. Should you put on the lingerie now? Wait until you heard from him? You compromised by showering and doing your hair and makeup, then slipping into a silky robe.
Just as you were debating whether to pour yourself a glass of wine to calm your nerves, your phone pinged.
JAMES: Landed. On my way to you.
Far earlier than you expected him, but a good thing, too.
Your heart raced as you read his message. You quickly made your way to the bedroom, retrieving the Boudoir bag from the closet with trembling hands. The delicate lace and silk felt cool against your skin as you slipped into the lingerie, adjusting the straps and garters with care. You stood before the new mirror James had sent, admiring how the deep, rich color complemented your skin tone. The set hugged your curves in all the right places. Standing before the mirror James had gifted you, you couldnât help but feel a surge of confidence.
A text alert broke your reverie.
JAMES: Five minutes.
You took a deep breath, smoothing your hands over the silky fabric once more before draping the robe back over your shoulders. You dimmed the lights in the bedroom and lit a few candles, creating a soft, inviting ambiance.
The sound of a key in the lock made your pulse quicken. You perched on the edge of the bed, listening as Buckyâs footsteps approached.
The bedroom door opened slowly, and he stepped inside, his eyes immediately locking onto yours. His gaze was intense, a mix of hunger and adoration that made your breath catch in your throat. Would you ever get used to the way he looked at you?
"Well," he said, his voice low and gravelly, "this is certainly a welcome home."
You stood, your fingers toying with the tie of your robe. "I thought you might appreciate a little preview of my shopping spree."
He set a golden box on your dresser and then moved closer, his steps deliberate and predatory. He reached out, running his fingers along the edge of your robe. "May I?"
You nodded, your heart racing as he slowly undid the tie and pushed the silky fabric off your shoulders. The robe pooled at your feet, leaving you standing before him in the exquisite lingerie.
Bucky inhaled sharply, his eyes roaming over every inch of you. "Beautiful.â His hands settled on your waist, pulling you flush against him. "Show me how much you missed me," he growled.
You leaned into him, tilting your head up to meet his intense gaze. "I thought you were going to show me how much you missed me," you teased, running your hands up his chest and over his shoulders.
He chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Oh, I intend to," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "But first, I want to savor this moment. You've outdone yourself."
His hands roamed over the delicate lace and silk, tracing the curves of your body with a reverence that made your breath hitch. You could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the barely contained power in his muscles as he held you close.
âI thought you wouldnât be here until much, much later,â you said, breathing in the scent of him, cologne mingled with his natural musk. âThe flights I saw had landings after midnight.â
He snorted. âMy private jet provides service according to my schedule, not anyone elseâs.â
âOh,â was your soft and surprised reaction, realizing you should not be at all surprised to learn he owned a private jet.
"Turn around, love," he commanded softly. "Let me see all of you."
You complied, slowly spinning to face the mirror. He stood behind you, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection. His hands skimmed down your sides, fingertips tracing the lace edges of your lingerie. You shivered at his touch, watching as his expression darkened with desire.
"Do you see how stunning you are?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "How every curve, every line of your body is a work of art?"
You leaned back against his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him. "I see how you look at me," you whispered. "That's what makes me feel beautiful."
You watched in the mirror as his lips trailed up your neck, his stubble scratching deliciously against your skin. Your breath quickened as one of his hands splayed across your stomach, pulling you back against him.
He growled low in his throat, his arms tightening around you. "You still have no idea what you do to me," he said, his voice rough with need. His fingers traced the edge of the lace at your hip.
You turned in his arms, reaching up to cup his face. "Then show me," you challenged, your eyes locked on his.
Impossibly, his eyes darkened even more at your words, a predatory smile curving his lips. In one fluid motion, he lifted you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. His lips crashed against yours in a searing kiss as he carried you to the bed, laying you down with surprising gentleness.
"You want me to show you?" he growled, hovering over you. His fingers traced the delicate straps of your lingerie, sending shivers across your skin. "I'll show you exactly what you do to me."
He began a torturous exploration of your body, his lips and hands mapping every inch of you. The exquisite lingerie became both a barrier and a tantalizing tease as Bucky lavished attention on the exposed skin while skimming over the lace and silk. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.
"James," you breathed, your fingers threading through his hair. "PleaseâŚ"
He chuckled against your skin, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure through you. "Patience, love. I've been dreaming of you all week."
His talented fingers deftly unclasped the delicate hooks of your bra, slowly peeling the lace away to reveal your skin beneath. You gasped as the cool air hit your heated flesh, arching into his touch as he palmed your breasts.
"Beautiful," he murmured, lowering his head to trail kisses along your collarbone. "So fucking beautiful."
You tugged at his shirt, suddenly desperate to feel his skin against yours. "Too many clothes," you panted, fumbling with the buttons.
Bucky chuckled, sitting back on his heels to shrug off his jacket and unbutton his shirt. Your eyes roamed hungrily over his sculpted torso as more of his skin was revealed. The dim candlelight cast shadows that accentuated every plane and angle of his muscular form.
"Like what you see?" he teased, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.
"Always," you breathed, reaching up to run your hands over his chest and shoulders.
He caught your wrists gently, pinning them above your head as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.
You melted into his kiss, your body arching up to meet his as he pressed you into the mattress. The weight of him, the heat of his skin against yours, was intoxicating. You tugged at his grip on your wrists, desperate to touch him, but he held firm.
"Ah ah," he murmured against your lips. "I'm not done admiring my gift yet."
His free hand skimmed down your side, fingers dancing along the edge of your panties. You whimpered, hips bucking involuntarily as he teased you.
"James, please," you gasped, breaking away from the kiss.
He chuckled, a dark, velvety sound that sent shivers down your spine. "So impatient," he tsked, nipping at your lower lip. "But I suppose I have kept you waiting all week, haven't I?"
In one fluid motion, he released your wrists and moved down your body. His lips and tongue traced a burning path along your skin, pausing to lavish attention on your breasts before continuing lower.
With deft movements, he removed the rest of your lingerie, his eyes dark with hunger as he drank in the sight of you. You reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle in your eagerness. Bucky chuckled, gently moving your hands aside to finish undressing himself.
Finally skin to skin, you both sighed at the contact. Bucky's weight settled over you, comforting and electrifying all at once. His lips found yours again as he entered you slowly, savoring every inch. You gasped against his mouth, your body arching to take him deeper.
"God, I've missed you," Bucky growled, his forehead pressed against yours as he stilled for a moment.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him closer. "Show me," you breathed, nails raking down his back.
That was all the encouragement he needed. Bucky began to move, setting a rhythm that had you clinging to him, gasping his name. His lips found your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there as his hips drove into yours.
You lost yourself in the sensations - the slide of his skin against yours, the delicious friction where your bodies joined, the heat of his breath on your neck. Your hands roamed his broad back, feeling the flex and ripple of his muscles as he moved above you.
"James," you moaned, feeling the familiar tension building low in your belly. "I'm close."
Bucky slowed his movements, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I'm not done with you."
With a low growl, he suddenly withdrew, leaving you gasping at the loss. Before you could protest, his strong hands grasped your hips and flipped you onto your stomach.
His palms glided down your sides, fingertips tracing the curve of your spine. You shivered at his touch, anticipation building as he gently urged your hips upward.
"On your knees for me, beautiful," he commanded softly, his palms smoothing over the swell of your backside.
You complied eagerly, pushing yourself up onto all fours. The cool air of the room kissed your heated skin, making you hyper-aware of every sensation. Bucky's hands continued their journey, kneading the flesh of your thighs and hips with intent appreciation.
You felt the bed shift as he positioned himself behind you, the heat of his body radiating against your back. His fingers tangled in your hair, gently tugging your head back. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke.
"You're a vision like this," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "So perfect for me."
You whimpered, pressing back against him, desperate for more contact. Bucky chuckled, the sound vibrating through your body. Slowly, torturously, he dragged the tip of his length along your folds, teasing your clit with the blunt head of his cock.
You gasped at the sensation, your fingers curling into the sheets. "James, please," you whimpered, pushing back against him.
He groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. "So eager for me," he murmured, positioning himself at your entrance. "Tell me what you want."
"You," you breathed, looking back over your shoulder to meet his intense gaze. "I want you, James. Please."
With a low growl, he pushed into you in one smooth thrust, filling you completely. You both moaned at the sensation, savoring the feeling of being joined once again. Bucky stilled for a moment, his forehead resting against your back as he struggled to maintain control.
"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades. "So tight, so wet, so warm and perfect for me."
He began to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm that had you gasping with each thrust. Your fingers clutched at the sheets, desperate for something to anchor you as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky's hands roamed your body, caressing and squeezing, leaving trails of fire in their wake.
"Look,â he said, and turned your head to take in the sight of you two in the mirror.
You locked your eyes on his through the reflection. âNeed you to see how gorgeous you are when you come apart for me.â
You keened for him as he pulled you back on his cock with a particularly demanding thrust.
âWhen I breed you.â
You gasped.
He groaned and curled his body down over your back.
Because you also clenched powerfully around his cock.
âMmm, you like that,â he murmured right into your ear, then licked the shell of it. âWant to be bred,â he continued, pace unyielding as he split you open with his cock. âNot as much as I want to fill you up with my seed,â another thrust, âuntil youâre growing with my child,â another thrust, âno question who you belong to,â thrust, âthat youâre claimed,â thrust, âthat youâre mine.â
You were utterly breathless for a moment, and he registered that, too, just as he registers every movement, every reaction.
He continued to thrust slowly in and out of your leaking cunt, but he noticed you were no longer fluid and pliant, but that you had tensed up. He stopped. âWhatâs going on in your beautiful head?â
You bit your lip, and your head dropped down, turning away from his direct gaze in the mirror.
He pulled out and laid on his side next to you.
âTalk to me,â he said, and you werenât sure if this tone was commanding or pleading, but it was certainly serious.
You sat up, folded your hands in your lap and took a deep breath. As steadily as you could, you said, âYou knew my measurements and had sent a perfect wardrobe of intimates to me withing twenty-four hours of our first encounter.â
He nodded, his lips quirking up at the corner.
âSo, I assume you also know I have an IUD, and that you that knew before you fucked me in the kitchen that first night at the restaurant.â
âYes,â he confirmed.
âIâm nowhere near ready to think about children.���
He leaned up on one elbow and reached for your hands, smoothing his thumb back and forth over your knuckles. âWe have as much time to think about that as you want.â
You let out a breath you didnât realize you were holding. Your eyes searched his. You could see he wasnât merely trying to tell you what you wanted to hear - he never had. Â
âI look forward to children with you one day, but Iâm in no rush. When I imagined settling down with a wife,â he continued, âI didnât think it would be for another five or six years, but once I found you, there was no question that I wanted you.â
"I want that future with you too, just... not quite yet."
Bucky sat up, cupping your face in his hands. His thumbs stroked your cheeks gently as he looked into your eyes. "I'm sorry if I scared you," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Sometimes I get carried away in the moment. You inspire that in me. But I never want you to feel uncomfortable or trapped.â
You felt a wave of relief wash over you, your body relaxing as you processed his words. "I'm sorry," you murmured, leaning into his touch. "I didn't mean to kill the mood."
Bucky shook his head, pulling you closer. "Don't apologize. Communication is important, especially about something like this." His fingers traced soothing patterns on your skin.
You nodded, feeling a surge of warmth and affection for this man who could be so commanding and intense one moment, and so tender and understanding the next. "I love you," you said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.
Bucky responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around you as he deepened the kiss. When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, he rested his forehead against yours. "I love you too," he murmured. "More than I ever thought possible."
His hands began to roam your body again, easily reigniting the need in both of your for each other.
You broke off the kiss briefly, "Just so we're clearly communicating, breeding kink? Yes. Children yet? No."
"Noted," he laughed, and returned to devouring your lips.
Bucky shifted his position from sitting to kneeling, settling back on his heels, then with one fluid motion he turned you and pulled you into his lap with your thighs falling on either side of his into a wide, kneeling position. He lifted your hips, then lined up his cock with your entrance, and brought you down again on his length. He guided your hips until you were impaled all the way down. The new angle sent sparks of pleasure through your body, drawing a low moan from your lips.
He banded his left arm around your torso, and his right hand smoothed up your sternum, between your breasts, coming to rest in a secure hold on your shoulder. You closed your eyes, focusing on nothing but the feel of him inside you, behind you, right at your back, every inch of your bodies pressed together. Your left hand traced over his forearm, then tangled with his fingers around your waist, your other hand moving back to anchor yourself on his hip. He pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, then began thrusting. Each thrust seemed to push a deep moan out of you for him, and you didnât hold back.
"Open your eyes," he commanded softly, his breath hot against your ear. "Look at us."
You obeyed, your gaze meeting his in the reflection of the mirror. The sight before you was breathtaking. Bucky sat tall and powerful behind you, his muscular thighs flexed as he supported your weight. Your body was on full display, skin flushed and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. His thick arm across your stomach, holding you close against his chest.
"Do you see how beautiful you are?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "How perfectly you fit with me?"
You watched in the mirror as one of his hands slowly trailed up your body, cupping your breast and teasing the sensitive peak. Your back arched at his touch, pressing you further onto his cock.
Bucky groaned, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily. "That's it," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. "Feel me inside you."
Entranced by his words and the intoxicating view in the mirror, you began to move. You rolled your hips, grinding down onto him in a slow, sensual rhythm. Bucky's hands guided your movements, his fingers digging into your flesh as he helped you ride him.
You watched in fascination as your bodies moved together, mesmerized by the play of muscles beneath Bucky's skin and the way your own body responded to his touch. The sight of him disappearing inside you with each downward motion was almost too much to bear.
"James," you gasped, your head falling back onto his shoulder as the pleasure built. "Oh god, James..."
âNo,â he growled, and his hand went up to your neck, taking you by the throat, not aggressive, but commanding, making it clear that he wanted you to keep looking in the mirror. âI wonât let you fucking miss this.â
It occurred to you then that this handsome, audacious bastard, the fiancĂŠ who youâd given your heart to, knew exactly what he wanted when he sent you this mirror and had it placed in the exact spot in front of you now.
He wanted this.
He wanted to see this and have you see this. The debauchery and the devotion while the two of you were intimate together.
Your eyes locked with his in the mirror, the intensity of his gaze pushing you even closer to the brink. You watched as his free hand slid down your body, fingers finding your clit with unerring accuracy. The dual stimulation of his cock inside you and his fingers on your most sensitive area becoming more frantic. Bucky's grip on your hips tightened, guiding you into a faster pace.
"That's it, love," he growled, his voice low and husky in your ear. "Let go for me. I want to see you come undone."
His words, combined with the intense sensations and the erotic sight in the mirror, and touch pushed you over the edge. You cried out, your body tensing and shaking as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky held you tightly against him, his hips still moving as he worked you through your orgasm.
"Beautiful," he murmured, pressing kisses along your shoulder and neck. "So fucking beautiful."
As the aftershocks subsided, Bucky gently turned you in his lap so you were facing him. His hands cupped your face, drawing you in for a deep, passionate kiss. You could feel him still hard inside you, and you rocked your hips, drawing a groan from his lips.
"Your turn," you whispered, nipping at his lower lip.
With a growl, Bucky flipped you onto your back, hovering over you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle as he began to thrust into you with renewed vigor.
You gasped at the deeper penetration, your hands clutching at his back as he sunk into you. The room filled with the sounds of your moans, heavy breaths, and the slap of skin on skin.
You reached up, pulling him down for a passionate kiss while he worked up to a relentless pace. He drove into you with powerful thrusts, each one pushing the air from your lungs. Your other leg wrapped around his waist, urging him deeper as you felt another orgasm building.
"James," you panted, your nails raking down his back, "I'm so close again."
He growled, his hips snapping against yours with increased fervor. "My good girl, Iâll always give you what you need."
His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers finding your oversensitive clit. The added stimulation was almost too much, pushing you right to the edge. You cried out, your body arching off the bed as your second orgasm crashed over you.
Bucky's rhythm faltered as your walls clenched around him. With a deep groan, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his body shuddering as he found his own release. You felt the warmth of his seed spilling inside you, prolonging your own pleasure.
For a moment, you both lay there, panting and trembling in the aftermath. Bucky's weight was comforting on top of you, grounding you as you floated in post-orgasmic bliss. He pressed soft kisses to your neck and shoulder, murmuring words of love and praise against your skin.
Eventually, he rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were tucked against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as your breathing slowly returned to normal. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and feeling utterly content.
"I love you," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone.
Bucky's hand stroked up and down your back, his touch soothing and gentle. "I love you too," he replied, his voice deep and warm. "More than I thought possible."
You hummed in agreement, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. The room was quiet save for the sound of your breathing and the faint flicker of the candles.
After a few moments, Bucky spoke again, his voice soft. "I meant what I said earlier. About children, about our future. We have all the time in the world."
You lifted your head to meet his gaze, seeing nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "I know," you said, leaning in to kiss him gently. "Thank you for understanding."
He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Always. We're partners in this, in everything."
You lay in comfortable silence again for a while, basking in the afterglow and each other's presence. Bucky's fingers idly traced patterns on your skin, sending pleasant shivers down your spine.
"I missed this," you said softly, breaking the silence. "Having you here, holding me." Everything with him was still relatively so new, but it felt like this was exactly how it always should be.
He hummed in agreement, tightening his arms around you. "Me too. Those nights in Chicago felt endless without you."
You tilted your head up to look at him, a small smile playing on your lips. "Well, you're home now. And you brought me another present, didnât you?â
âOh, you noticed that golden box I brought in with me, did you?â
âYes, can I have it, please?â you asked sweetly, your curiosity thrumming more with each second now that you had remembered it.
He chuckled at your eagerness, pressing a kiss to your forehead before reluctantly disentangling himself from your embrace. "Alright, love. Your wish is my command."
You watched appreciatively as he padded across the room, admiring the play of muscles beneath his skin. He retrieved the golden box from the dresser and returned to the bed, settling beside you with a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Close your eyes," he instructed softly, and you complied, feeling a thrill of anticipation.
You heard the rustle of paper and the soft click of a box opening. A moment later, an intoxicating aroma filled the air - rich, complex, with notes of cocoa, vanilla, and something tantalizingly exotic.
"Open," Bucky murmured.
Parting your lips, you allowed him to place a morsel of chocolate in your mouth.
The chocolate melted slowly on your tongue, releasing layers of flavor that made you moan softly in delight. Rich, dark cocoa mingled with hints of caramel and a subtle spiciness that lingered pleasantly. As the last of it dissolved, you opened your eyes to find Bucky watching you intently, his gaze dark with renewed desire.
"Good?" he asked, his voice low and husky.
You nodded, licking your lips. "Incredible. What is it?"
He smiled, holding up an elegantly crafted golden box. "Amedei Porcelana. Some of the rarest and most expensive chocolate in the world. I had it flown in from Tuscany."
Your eyes widened. "James, that must have cost a fortune."
He shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "What's the point of having money if I can't spoil my beautiful fiancĂŠe?" His fingers traced along your jawline. "Besides, watching you enjoy it is worth every penny."
You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at his words and the intensity of his gaze. Bucky leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, sensual kiss. The lingering taste of chocolate on your tongue mingled with his unique flavor, creating an intoxicating blend. His hand cupped the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss.
When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, Bucky rested his forehead against yours. "I think I might enjoy that chocolate even more when I taste it on your lips," he murmured, his voice low and husky.
You smiled, reaching for the box. "Well, we have plenty more to sample. Maybe we should conduct a thorough taste test?"
Bucky's eyes darkened with desire, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "I like the way you think, chef."
He took the box from your hands, selecting another piece of chocolate. This time, instead of feeding it to you, he placed it between his teeth, raising an eyebrow in challenge. You leaned in, capturing the other half of the chocolate with your lips, your mouths meeting in a sweet, decadent kiss.
As the night wore on, you continued your playful exploration, alternating between savoring the exquisite chocolate and indulging in each other. Bucky trailed pieces along your skin, following the path with his lips and tongue. You reciprocated, drawing patterns on his sculpted chest and abs with melted chocolate before licking it clean.
The room filled with soft sighs, quiet laughter, and murmured words of affection as you rediscovered each other's bodies. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over your intertwined forms, creating an intimate cocoon that seemed to exist outside of time.
As dawn approached, you lay tangled together, satiated and drowsy. Bucky's fingers traced lazy patterns on your back as you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
"I could get used to welcomes like this," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
You hummed contentedly, nuzzling closer. "Maybe I should send you away more often if this is how you come back to me."
He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Don't you dare. I much prefer having you by my side every day."
You smiled, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "Me too," you admitted softly. "Though I have to say, absence does make the heart grow fonder."
"And apparently inspires some very creative shopping," he teased, his hand skimming down your side to rest on your hip.
You laughed, a warm, carefree sound that filled the room. "Well, I had to make sure you'd remember me while you were away."
"Impossible," Bucky murmured, his voice taking on a more serious tone. His fingers traced the curve of your cheek, his touch feather-light but ardent. "You're etched into every part of me now, love."
The intensity of his gaze made your breath catch in your throat. Even after hours of intimacy, he still had the power to make your heart race with just a look. You leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss that spoke volumes of your shared feelings.
As you parted, you noticed the first rays of dawn peeking in through the curtains of your window. You settled your head against his shoulder, and only just registered the press of his lips in a kiss to your forehead before you dropped off to sleep in his arms in the morning light, thoroughly exhausted and thoroughly in love with this man.
â Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
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Some of this was content I cut from the final chapter of the original 4-parts of the series (heat) that once I got to the end of that chapter felt like it didn't fit anymore, but it was stuff I couldn't throw away, so I just kept it, knowing it would have a place at some point in their story later, so I'm glad I finally got to share it with you!
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#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#mob au#bucky barnes fanfic#female reader#devour au#aspen wrote something#2200 followers celebration#askpen#kink: breeding#kink: food play
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ănight visits. || winter soldier x readeră
pairing: winter soldier x f!reader words: lenghty summary: usually people find their own interests, but when you are "forecefully recruited" to work under HYDRA, your interest found you first.
ăpart 2ă
You thought your studies and hard work would be rewarded, especially being one of the only women in the field. You thought all of the late nights studying, all of the potential relationships lost over fear of falling behind in your studies and all of the golden years invested would be worth it. You would be praised, given numerous titles and be able to help the community and give back to Society.
Except that didn't happen.
The payment for your hard work came in the form of a kidnapping. By Hydra. After appearing in the paper, being praised for your skills and knowledge, unbeknownst to you, a target had been placed by one of the most evil forces walking the earth.
Someone as bright and qualified as you who did not yet have the influence or the contacts to generate buzz in the media or in the government when kidnapped qas rare, and Hydra recognized the fact. So one late night, as you were coming back from your lab alone, you were hit in the back of the head and next thing you knew you were sitting in a metal chair, shaking in cold, with two men standing by your side and another menacingly sitting in front of you, waiting for you to wake up.
"The world sure is cruel..." Were your only thoughs, as tears ran down your emotionless face, when you heard where you were and what your purpose was.
You couldn't even choose the easy way out and... "eliminate yourself". They made sure you knew the worst would happen to your loved ones if you did so. So you complied, in hopes there would be a way out.
They then introduced you to a soldier, one genetically enhanced, to be stronger, smarter, smoother and more skilfull than thw average soldier. A previous army man whose brain had been blended and molded into being a mere killer puppet.
You were to supervise him, make sure everything in his heavily modified and messed-with brain was in order. You conducted psychological tests as well as neurological ones.
You were handed his file before you got to meet him, so you could study him. All of his information was there, the information of James Buchanan Barnes.
Tears brimmed your eyes when you met the soldier. He was a person, with a life. With hopes, dreams, loved ones... And Hydra turned him into a monster.
"The tests work best if I am alone with him. Other presences may disturb him and alter the results." You told the other Hydra agents.
It wasn't a complete lie, but you just wanted to be alone with him so you could treat him like a human.
" But he could-"
"I will call if you're needed." You said, interrupting him by raising your finger "You have not-so-gracefully brought me here because I am good. I should know what's best."
All of the men overseeing the Winter Soldier prohect exited the room, while muttering some not-so-nice Russian words under their breaths.
You pushed a chair to sit close to the Winter Soldier (but not too close, since you were still wary).
"Hello, James."
All of the men called him "Soldier", but it seemed inhumane, like a tool to be used, so you just used his first name. You knew it might trigger memories, but you refused to keep up the bad treatment.
This made the soldier look at you through his eyebrows, acknowledging your presence, but not replying.
"I'm here to asses you. Is that okay?"
You were to make sure he didn't remember anything from his past life and that he remained in the borderline-psychotic state he was in constantly, and that was already monsteous enough, so you made sure it was as easygoing as possible.
"Sargeant Barnes I don't want to treat you like those men, I don't want to hurt you."
His eyes softened the least bit, but as you expected his walls were up, strong and solid, and once more he did nor reply.
It would be months of hard work before he trusted your words, before he revealed that there was a bit of James Barnes underneath the soldier.
"Why... Why do you do this?"
You looked up from your notebook.
"Do what, James?"
"That. Give me hope."
Your heart raced a little at those words.
"What do you mean, give you hope?"
"It was easier killing people when I thought they were all cruel..."
There was silence in the room. You knew he didn't mean to say that your encounters were unpleasant, but that they were so pleasant, there was such peace when you were with him, that it was harder to complete his job.
"Do you want me to change my behaviour?" You still had to ask, just in case.
He did not look at you when he shook his head negatively.
"I like you. You're a good one. But I don't want to remember anything."
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and put down your materials for a second.
"Why's that, James?"
Fortunately, the fact that he was never called "James" (it had always been "Bucky" or "Sargeant Barnes") worked in his favour, as he did not have recurring memories from his past when you called him that.
"If I am here... it was because I was a bad person. No good person ends up in this place. I am here, I must deserve it."
"Do you think I'm a bad person?" This question was genuine curiosity. You wondered, after hearing his logic, if he thought you were evil too.
The man looked at you as if you were stupid. His eyes said "how could it ever come across your mind that I think there's a trace of evil in you". But, due to his conditioned mind, all he said was a cold, harsh "no".
"Then you trust me?"
A nod was all you got in response. If you got a couple sentences out of him per session, you'd be in luck.
"I will respect that you don't want to remember, but I can tell you, I saw who you were. You were not a bad person, you were a great one."
He finally made eye contact with you, and you could almost feel emotion in him.
The soldier's eyes wandered away from yours once more, focusing on the ground.
"I will end up here." He mumbled.
"Sorry James, what was that?"
"I will end up here. No matter what I do, they find me. I know I have remembered before, they left that in my mind. They left that I escaped, they brought me back and put me back in the machine." His voice was more somber as he told his story "I don't want to remember because if I do I won't want to stay, but I will just end up here again and be tortured again. I will just save myself the pain."
That was the most he had ever said to you, and it brought tears to your eyes. It wasn't human, what they did to him, no. It was pure torture on a man that, on the pictures you saw, looked like a hopeful young man, the life of the party, the one that would make friends with any and everyone.
You placed your hand on top of his.
"I'm sorry, James."
This action caused the soldier to widen his eyes and look at you in shock.
It was the first friendly touch he had felt since forever. It was the first human contact he had that wasn't a punch, a slap, or something equally as painful.
That interaction almost made him lose composure, but he remained stiff and serious until you awkwardly removed your hand.
You were slowly bringing out the human in him, but sometimes you wondered if that was the correct choice. You didn't want him to get hurt again. The last time they used the machine you could hear his screams no matter how far your room was or how you tried to cover your ears with the pillow, the Soldier's pained and desperate screams still reached your ears.
After that particular day, Bucky realized how much he enjoyed your touch. It seemed that the spot you had touched him burned every day you were apart. Your sessions were twice a week, three times maximum, but it was the only thing Bucky looked forward to.
"Hello, James."
His gaze remained locked with the floor. You thought you had made no progress whatsoever in your mission to make him accostumed with behaving like a human, however that wasn't true. Bucky was just afraid that if he did look at you he wouldn't be able to contain his excitement.
His brain was in constant disarray - the conflict between wanting to smile and have a conversation with you and the fear of disobeying orders and being punished were constant.
You sighed and sat next to him. You did the usual job of first checking to see if Hydra hadn't permanently fucked his head, and then you moved to the part where you'd check if he still was the emotionless psychopath Hydra had turned him into. Except you bent the last task to your will.
"I don't want to treat you like the rest of them. I won't. No matter what they made you believe, you're a person still. And I want to make your situation a little better but you have to pretend, no matter how much your condition improves, that you're still the same Soldier. I don't want you to go back into the machine because of me." You had explained, in one of your earliest appointments.
"I read the mission report. What are you feeling?"
"Accomplished."
His response was short, and dry, delivered in a voice devoid of all feeling.
"Are you saying that just because you accomplished the mission?"
Silence. His silence was, most of the time, an admission. You nodded and sighed.
You stood up and walked closer to him, placing your hand on his shoulder. There it was. Bucky didn't even care about the rush of emotions flowing through him, he just focused on your touch, how warm it felt, how homely it felt.
"Now, how did it really make you feel."
There was a short silence again, as he thought.
"Confused. I don't think I like to see people suffer, I don't like their screams, but I must do it, or else I suffer." His eyebrows furrowed as he said that, as if he was trying to connect the pieces in his head.
You began saying something about how he wasn't bad, but all that was just background noise. All he could focus on was how your hand travelled down his arm and rested on his hand as you crouched in front of him.
"James? Did you listen?"
Only then did you realize how intensely he was looking at you. His icy blue eyes stared into your soul, and you noticed how beautiful the man was when there were slight traces of emotion on his face. The strands of his jaw-lenght dark hair shaped his face beautifully, and you couldn't help but look at his parted lips.
You felt your face growing hot and immediately stood up, turning your back to him and pretending you were doing something else as you tried to regain your composure.
Before long, Hydra officials came through the door to take the Soldier, You'd never get too long in his presence, just enough time to do your job.
This time you wouldn't see him again in two days, and so you walked back to your "room" (if it could even be called that) thinking about his eyes, the way he looked at you, and the way you wanted to brush back his hair and take a good, long look at his face.
It was late, very late, when you woke up with a cold breeze in your room. You stood up, to close the window, only to realize that it was closed. It was only when you looked towards the door that you saw a tall, large, dark figure standing under the frame. Before you could scream, he paced forward and placed a hand over your mouth.
You could then see who it was. The moon light coming through from the window's glass lit up those blue eyes you had come to be so familiar with, and the mask you dreaded.
Once your breathing calmed down and the Soldier was sure you knew who it was, he allowed you to remove his hand from your mouth.
You then reached around his neck and undid his mask, slowly removing it.
"Why are you here?" You asked, your voice above a whisper.
The mask fell to the ground but Bucky's eyes never left yours.
"I won't hurt you."
It stung you that he thought you'd ever think he was capable of hurting you, but that was how he was conditioned to think.
"I know..."
Those words sent a wave of relief over Bucky, and he wasn't sure how to describe the feelings inside of him if he had to.
"I came back from a mission and I should head back but... I can't. I needed to see you."
Your mind immediately went into work mode and you looked at him with a very serious face.
"Are you feeling alright? Did something trigger you in the mission?" You asked, sitting down on your bed and pulling him down so he could be comfortable.
"No, miss Y/N, I needed to see you." As he said this, Bucky slid a hand up your thigh, stopping dangerously close to your core.
Only then did you realise that you were sitting next to a very big man wearing nothing but the sheer and short nightgown you used, as it would get very hot in your particular side of the building due to all the machinery working.
Your legs spread slightly, and you didn't miss the ever so sublte smirk tugging at the corner of Soldier's lips. The man watched your reactions carefully, and took that as a green card to proceed. His face got closer to yours, and he teased your lips, brushing his own against yours, before moving to your neck and kissing the spot right below your ear.
"James..." His name escaped past your lips.
It wasn't voluntary, because you didn't know if you wanted him to stop or continue. Morally it was wrong, he was your patient (technically), but it felt so right, so good...
"Hm? Want me to stop?" He asked, as his hand made its way closer to your core and his lips bit down on your neck.
Fuck it. If you were stuck here you might as well enjoy it, there was nothing morally right around you, why would you be the exception.
"No." You said, with the upmost certainty.
"Good."
With his metalic arm, the man separated your legs far enough so he could have access to your vagina, and with the other he cupped your face and brought your lips to his.
His fingers went inside your panties and rubbed between your folds before teasing at the entrance. You couldn't help but moan into the kiss as one experimental finger went inside of you.
There had obviously been a considerable ammount of time since you had been sexaully active, so you were very sensitive, and the Soldier could tell.
You weren't sure on what to focus: the way his lips completely dominated yours, or the way his fingers fucked you.
Soon after he added a second finger and switched between curling and uncurling them as he fucked you. His thumb found your clit and he rubbed it, adding to your pleasure.
You didn't hide how good he made you feel, incessantly moaning into the kiss and calling his name.
The man pulled away for a second, kissed your cheek and then your neck.
"I love the way you sound." He whispered.
"Then... Then fuck me, I promise I will sound so much better." You said, almost breathless.
Bucky shoved the fingers that were in you inside of your mouth so you could lick them clean, and then wrapped the same hand around your neck.
"That's all I needed, doll." He whispered.
Bucky unzipped his tight pants and pulled his cock out. You admired his size before he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you onto his lap. The soldier lifted you up pulled your panties to the side and, once his tip found your entrance, slowly lowered you on his cock.
You gripped his arms and let out a long, strained moan, until he was fully inside you. He then started moving you on his cock, thrusting slightly when pulling you down.
He skillfully and smoothly removed your little sleeping gown and kept on fucking you.
"Shit." He cursed, as he watched your ass bounce on his cock.
You realised how much you loved to hear him curse, how much you loved to hear his voice in your ear.
Slowly, the soldier picked up the pace when he felt you were comfortable. He then wrapped one arm around your body to keep the movements steady, and wrapped the metal hand around your throat.
You would've guessed the man that barely spoke would've been a quiet one, but oh were you wrong. The grunts and moans in your ear brought you closer and closer to your climax, along with the way his metal arm applied a slight but noticeable pressure in your neck.
"James I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum."
With these words, Bucky flipped you two, wanting to see the pleasure in your face when you came. You laid on your back as Bucky kept fucking you with his hand on your neck, switching between the way your tits bounced and the way your face looked as you were about to reach your climax.
It wasn't long before your hands gripped the thin sheets and your back arched. With a cry for his name, you came. Soon after hearing you call for him, Bucky buried himself deep inside of you and came.
The way he looked at you had you in a trance.
He bent down, grabbed your face and kissed you, before looking down and caressing your stomach.
"You're mine. Mine. All mine."
#bucky#bucky smut#bucky fanfic#bucky reader insert#bucky x reader#marvel#marvel fanfiction#winter soldier#winter soldier smut#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier x y/n#winter soldier fanfiction#winter soldier x you#winter soldier angst#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes imagine#marvel smut#bucky breeding kink
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Oh my
Still Mine
18+
Ex!Bucky x f readerÂ
You knew it was wrong. You had no business responding to his texts, still giving him attention after he broke up with you. Youâd roll your eyes when you saw his name pop up on the caller Id and then youâd melt at his honeyed voice, finding yourself naked on his bed moments later, desperately moaning as he fucked you like it was the one thing keeping him alive.Â
âWe-we canât keep doing thisâ You stuttered out between moans, the logical side of your brain screaming at you to stop giving into your desires. Bucky snarled against your neck fucking you harder, a surge of jealously and possessiveness coursing through his body. Â
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#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x female reader#bucky x f!reader#bucky x reader#ex bucky x reader#ex bucky barnes#ex bucky#ex bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x ex reader#ex!bucky barnes#marvel smut#bucky smut#james bucky barnes#james buchanan bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes#breeding kink bucky barnes#bucky barnes breeding kink#breeding kink bucky#bucky barnes x breeding kink#bucky barnes drabble#avengers smut#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction
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So much brilliance to unpack here! The special super soldier birth control shot? Yup. That seems like it would be necessary. This needs to be canon đ pure genius. & feral bucky is life!! Plus, having nat & wanda as a couple? Chef's. Kiss. Loooooved this!
itâs Me again⌠back with another breeding kink fic.
anonymous asked: Can you do another breeding kink Bucky??đđŠđ
His hips stutter with wild jerks, lurching your bed and its frame into the wall. âFuck, fuck, fuck,â he chokes, cheeks flushed and jaw clenched. âYou canât say shit like that, baby.â His hands dig into your skin bruisingly, an animalistic fire heâs resisting alight in his dilated pupils. ââCause I will. With the way your tight pussy is squeezing me, I��ll fill you up until youâre dripping for days after, and thereâs no doubt youâre knocked up with my kid.âÂ
in which you beg bucky to cum inside you. (includes breeding kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex.)
â
As it turns out, the sperm of a super soldier is especially potent. Which means regular âole birth control doesnât work like itâs supposed to, and for that, specially modified treatment has been given to you.
Yes, the very serious and dangerous S.H.I.E.L.D agency has created a shot so that youâre able to fuck your superhero bareback without the threat of a child. The only catch is re-upping; it lasts a year, but thereâs a month needed before you can get your next one, something about needing to give your reproductive system a break from the chemical.
Itâs a difficult month, becoming harder and harder as the weeks wined down.
Of course, you use condoms but thereâs a mutual disdain for the material. Plus, itâs not the sameâthat barrier between you, unable to be as close as possible with him, the emptiness of not being filled until youâre dripping. But, thankfully, both of you have made it through and thereâs only a few days left.
However, for good measure in the last week, youâve been staying with Wanda and Natasha. Speaking of who, the couple are throwing a housewarming, no longer compound-bound, and his attendance is iffy. Itâs understandable considering just thinking about him has you ready to explode.
Not to mention, itâs a pool party, and youâre wearing a saucy bikini.
âSo when are you and Barnes gonna pop one out?â Natasha speaks casually, a wine glass between her fingers, curled up with her girlfriend on a lounge chair where they both watch you help set up. âSomething tells me you wonât want to wait a whole year. Him, especially.â
Thatâs an understatement. Your man has chronic baby fever but in a respectfully adorable way. In the past, youâve been apprehensive about offspring but heâs so optimistic and supportive youâve definitely come around to the idea. âSoon, actually. Banner apparently has created a six month shot,â you tell her, absentmindedly folding a complimentary towel.
âOh, yeah. How are you two doing on that front? You have a couple of days left before you can shack up again, right?â Natâs eyebrow arches when your hands fumble and drop a towel at a mere reference to sex.
âYes,â you answer after a steady breath, and you bend over to retrieve the textured cloth. âSeventy-two hours. Itâs good he isnât coming to your little thing âcause I think heâd maul me and vice versaâŚâ
âOh, Bucky,â Wandaâs pointed, mildly amused voice sets your spine rigid. âHey! Howâs itââ
At your fiancĂŠâs name, you abruptly straighten up and spin on your heels. In a blink of an instance, heâs closed the distanceâsix foot form towering and determined, and the ravenous look in his eyes tells you what heâs going to do.
Your eyes widen, and you point sternly at him, uncoordinated steps backward. âWait, waitâ!â you try but his arms are latched onto your waist and hoisting you over his shoulder. Everything is upside down: a smiling Wanda and waving Natasha fades as he strides into the house.
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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 heâs meant to be faking this whole thingâand 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 âI doâ and meant âI donât,â exchanged your vows like your own last rites, and felt him slip the ring on your finger as if heâd just tightened a noose around your neck.
You didnât want to be a bride, and you sure as hell didnât 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.
âHave you lost your fucking mind?!â
âI walked down the aisle, didnât I?â
Another plate went crashing on the wall behind your husbandâs 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 walkedâstalkedâover to you.
Youâd 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,
âPut it down.â
You did as he told you and dropped the platter to the floor with a crash.
Rather than berate you for the broken chinaâor the four other pieces before itâyour husband only smiled.
âAre we done?â
Hell, you wanted to be. Slide over a pen and a one-way plane ticket to someplace in BFE, and youâd be signing those divorce papers in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, your dear husband was just referring to the temper tantrum.
You werenât totally sure if you were finished on that front, so you looked him up and down and shrugged.
âNow darlingââ he started.
âDonât call me that.â
âLight of my lifeââ
âIâll kill you.â
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.
âItâs all part of the deal, doll.â
You wriggled under his hold and tried to angle yourself better to see him, hoping heâd see your scowl.
âThe deal was to get married,â you reminded him.
âMhmm,â Bucky hummed, just then starting to trail a finger up the uncovered skin of your calf with his other hand, âAnd what is it that married people do?â
You kicked your foot reflexively, paused, then said,
âFight. Constantly. Probably resent each other for the better part of two decades before we finally decide that âmaking it workâ for the kids isnât worth it at all, and I claim half of everything you own in a bitter divorce.â
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.
âDonât worry, my lawyer drafted a pretty good prenup.â
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.
âBut the kids you mentioned,â he said, âHow are we supposed to get those?â
You pursed your lips and tried hard not to move when his fingers drifted inwardâyou wouldnât 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 wouldâve chosen something a little more modest than a thong. But here you were.
At least the sight seemed appealing to your husband, whose eyes hadnât left you once while his hands grew even hungrier to feel your warmth.
âIâm hoping a sperm donor or one of your double-crossing mobster friends will knock me up, honestly,â you said, feigning enthusiasm at the thought.
A tart slap delivered to your ass told you that Bucky hadnât found that funny. After, he started kneading the skin a bit harder.
âNo shot,â he shook his head, suddenly gliding his fingers down closer to your core and waiting for you to say something in protest, âOnly one thatâs gonna be pumping this thing full of babies is me, I promise.â
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 werenât 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 didnât send him far, but it was enough to get his attentionâand his hands off of you.
âIâm not having your babies, Barnes! I am never going to fuck you, no matter how long we stay fake married,â 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 husbandâs own growing erection.
Finally, youâd said it. His new wife wouldnât 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 heâd triumphed in every pursuit for the last twenty yearsâfacing the likes of some seriously execrable bandits and racketeersâhe could take on a bratty woman less than half his size. You said you didnât want his babies now, but just wait until heâd fucked you full of his cum once or twice. Youâd be begging him for it in no time at all, and shortly thereafter, heâd 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.
âSurely you didnât think weâd be finger-painting and reading poetry to each other on our wedding night, hm?â he asked, almost delicately.
âThought you might have one of your other women lined up,â you snorted. When you tried to move away, Bucky pinched your leg to make you stay. You winced.
âThatâs not funny,â he said, a little more consternation in his tone. Like he actually cared whether you thought him a profligate Lothario or not, âNow that weâre married, itâs only you and me. No mistresses, nothing.â
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.
âTry the carnal part of our marriage yourself and Iâm sure youâll find Iâm an exceptional fuck,â Bucky continued, speaking low as he stroked the chiffon of your dress.
You didnât doubt the man was goodâcertainly the extent of his sexual escapades as a twenty-something seemed to demand itâbut 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, âDid you cum?â
No, there was not a snowballâs chance in hell your husbandâs 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 didnât know was that your silence only stoked the flames of his ego, prompting him to press the matter further.
âWhat? You think I canât fuck?â he said, âAny woman lucky enough to bed me has cum at least twice. Every time.â
Sure they did, Bucky, you wanted to say, but were suddenly drawn into his lap before you could speak.
âBut letâs pretend I canât,â he said, heedless of the face you made as soon as you were straddling his hips, âYou wouldnât let your husband prove himself tonight?â
âI donât fuck strangers.â
Bucky smiled at that.
âEveryoneâs a stranger until you get to blow them, honey,â he teased, squeezing your hips when you didnât 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.
âYou like skylines?â he asked.
You frowned and raised a brow that he was quick to interpret as a âyes.â He hauled you onto your feet.
ââCourse you do. All pretty girls like pretty skies,â 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 didnât bother to tilt your head when he drew even closer.
âWhat do you like most about it?â 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.
âJames,â you hissed.
Bucky groaned at the sheer intonation of his name on your lips.
âYes, dear?â
âWhy are you undressing me?â
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.
âIâd like to fuck my bride over the balcony railing, if thatâs alright with you,â 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.
âIâllâ Iâll tell my mother, Barnes.â
You felt stupid as soon as youâd said itâusing your go-to threat whenever you were in distress. What were you, eleven?
âYour mother?â Bucky repeated, words steeped in derision, âLast I recall, mommy dearest was practically begging me to get you pregnant at the reception.â
Your jaw clenched, and you internally cursed your whole family. Your parents were supposed to be on your side throughout all of thisâit was bad enough theyâd 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.
âI donât have to fuck you just yet, doll,â he murmured, having sunk to his knees and only moving lower. Then the corners of his lips twitched, âLeast not with my dick.â
You tried to pry his head from between your legs before he could stretch his tongue so much as an inch.
âJames!â
Again with that name.
âYou know, I love when you call me that, Mrs. Barnes.â
Bucky was peering up at you now, soaking in the sight of your body in a white lace bra, panties, and stockings.
âIs my bride feeling shy?â he teased, gently nipping at your inner thighs.
You werenât sure what you were feeling in that moment, to be honest. Revulsion, betrayal, arousal, you name itâeach crowned with an all-encompassing hatred for the man currently occupying the space between your legsâwhile a still stronger desire almost hoped he would stay.
âYou can hate your husband all you want and still let him tonguefuck you,â Bucky growled against your skin.
Like heâd 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.
âJust let it happen, honey.â
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:
âN-no, Bucky.â
To your dismay, his tongue didnât 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 hadnât 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.
âNo. Please.â You hardly made sense to yourself; it was clear you wanted his touch, but something inside you wasnât quite ready to submit to the idea that this was all okay. That your husbandâs tongue and lips might be meant for something like this, and you didnât have to feel so guilty for wanting it either. Fucking purity culture.
âMy pretty girl,â Bucky presently murmured above the fabric, words sending a dozen little shockwaves in their wake, âMy beautiful fucking wife.â
The man inhaled your scent and couldâve sworn he was in ecstasy. Blinded by desire as he was, he really wasnât bullshitting in the slightest when he gathered you to him and said you were the best; heâd 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 hatredâand somehow, Bucky couldnât 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.
âFeel good, baby?â 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 didnât 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.
âYou like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?â
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 youânot quite, but almostâupon 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, âFUCK!â 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 elseâs. 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.
âWhat the fâ honey? Honey?!â Bucky sputtered. He bounded after you.
Youâd 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.
âBaby, whatâs wrong? Whatâsâwhatâs goinâ on?â
In truth, youâd 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 shouldâve been frightening you for weeks before it ever came to this, but here you were, panicked in the bathroom of your honeymoon suite because youâd never done this beforeâand youâd never reached climax in your life without bursting into tears.
Fuck, you felt stupid. How could you think this would be any differentâor that Buckyâs tongue wouldnât eventually attempt to wrest an orgasm out of you?
Itâd just felt so good, you thought maybe a new climax brought by someone elseâs fingers might free you from the same unsavory demise youâd 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 Buckyâs knocks grew louder, his voice gaining more ire by the second, it seemed.
âOpen the fucking door!â
Heâd 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 youâwhat Bucky might conceivably do now that youâd 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 husbandâs 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 fatherâs 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 mightâ
âFuck,â Bucky groaned.
You watched your husband heave through the busted door of the bathroom, wide eyes and a âHereâs Johnnyâ 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.
âWhat are you doing?!â 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 shouldersâlike a parent reprimanding a child.
âWhat the fuck was that?! Huh? You think thatâs fucking funny, jumping out windows?â
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 couldnât have reached you any more clearly.
âWhatâ what was that for?â his voice lowered as he tried to catch his breath. You still couldnât move.
âI-I donâtââ 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. Iâd rather jump off, or out of, a building than tell my mob boss husband that I canât cum without crying. By the way, Iâm a virgin!
Instead, you just blinked and stared back at him.
âCanâtâŚdo it,â you murmured.
Buckyâs expression only grew more puzzled by the words out of your mouth. He squeezed your face tighter and leaned in even closer.
âDo what? Sex? Fuck, Iâ I didnât mean to be that aggressive, hell, Iâm sorry.â He stopped to run a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you couldâve 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.
âHoney?â he tried getting your attention, just barely above a whisper now, âI know the whole thingâs fucked, I know.â
That was the understatement of the century. To your surprise, Buckyâs gaze softened when he saw a scowl cross your face.
âWe donâtâŚhave to do anything. I was just pushing your buttons earlier. Being a dick.â
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 didnât know why you felt compelled to help. It was like all ten fingers just lifted of their own accord to join Buckyâs hands in trying to undo his tie.
The silk fabric wasnât 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 werenât still sweating profusely from the events that had just transpiredâboth the tonguefucking and the window-jumping.
âWho tied this, a five-year-old?â you muttered.
âIâm thirty-eight, thanks,â 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 husbandâs neckâand not actually trying to kill himâwhile Bucky blinked almost nervously the longer your hands lingered on his collar. It seemed heâd 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 couldnât be sure.
âIâve never had sex before.â
At last, the tie loosened a little.
Bucky flicked his gaze back to yours in a second.
âWhat?â
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.
âYouâre a virgin?â
You nodded.
âDidnât my overbearing mother make sure you knew?â
âYeah, I thought she was full of shit,â Bucky answered bluntly. Then, catching sight of the semi-offended look in your eye, mixed with a tad more amusement than indignation, he added, âI meanâ I didnât think youâd, uh, wanna waitâŚtwenty-five years for some action.â
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.
âNo, I get it. I donât know why I waited this long either,â you shrugged.
As soon as youâd 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, sheâs a virgin. Be cool. Be coolâdonât 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:
âHi! Hey, Iâd like to order room service to, uhâŚâ your voice trailed off. Then, covering the mouthpiece, âJames, whatâs our room number?â
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.
âWe rented the whole building, dear,â he called back.
âOh.â 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 wasnât 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, âWhatever you want, honeyâ 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 savoryâhis 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 hadnât even fucked you yet. He gripped the bathroom sink beside him and sincerely wished it wasnât his hand doing the work right now. But of course, he had to be patient, had to be kindâcouldnât force himself on a woman who clearly wasnât 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. Heâd 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 Buckyâs wine preferences before you placed another order.
You barged in and froze.
âSorry!â you squeaked, darting out just as fast.
Five seconds slower and you probably wouldâve 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 youâd just given him.
Good fucking going, Buckâyour wife wants to cuddle and eat cheese and youâre 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 doorsâhalf-expecting to see his bride rappelling from the balconyâbut then quickly shifted to the bed. Finding you kneeling at the edge.
âJames?â
Your voice almost pained.
A word was all it took. Bucky was back on his knees.
âIâm sorry. I just wanted it to go away, honey. Iâm sorry.â
Go away? You quirked a brow and couldnât 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.
âAre you mad at me?â 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.
âNo! No, not mad at all,â he mumbled as he sidled up beside you. Pleased to see you hadnât recoiled, âI was just, uhâŚmissing you, âsâall.â
If his men could see him now, Bucky was sure heâd 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 brideâall broken plates and attempted window escapes be damned.
Presently, you brought your hand down to his bulge.
Bucky stiffened but didnât speak. He wanted you to do this on your own, of your own volition.
âYou seem kinda mad to me.â You hardly knew what you were doing. Just rubbing his length and hoping it was something heâd like.
Where Bucky had wanted to see you smile, you just wanted to hear him grunt and whineâmaybe grab your hips and beg you to do something, please. Youâd 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 Buckyâs broad chest and stroked his length even softer.
âJames.â
âUh-huh?â 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,
âWe havenât even kissed since the ceremony.â
Bucky stared blankly at you, enrapt with the pulse of your fingers. You could tell he was aching to move.
âOh yeah?â 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 shiftedâor, rather, scrambledâback in place and felt your husband climb over you hungrily.
âThat what my wife wants?â 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 wouldâve doubtlessly wrought looks of horror on every face at your wedding had he grabbed you that way after the declarations of âI doâ 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.
âAh, honey, donât,â 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.
âI thoughtâ IâŚfuck,â your husband turned his head to curse as you grinded your hips up to his. You had to bite back a smile.
âI just wanna do what married people do,â you murmured coyly, pretending not to see when Bucky shot you the most red-hot, wanton look heâd imparted all evening.
âYeah?â 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 didnât have the first fucking idea.
A few dry, clinical terms flashed before your mindâs eye, along with your motherâs 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 wouldnât be cruel.
He couldnât be, right? Heâd only mowed down a hundred men and dismembered dozens more, you were told, but surely a set of eyes this soft, caring, and kind couldnât 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 hadnât been with a virgin for as long as he could rememberâmaybe ever. His own âdefloweringâ an ancient relic of his boyhood and the multitude of partners since then a mere flurry of nameless faces, he sincerely couldnât recall a time when heâd asked, or cared, whether the woman beneath him had her cherry intact. He didnât 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 heâd bracketed his other arm around your head on the pillow, you let out a small sound.
âAre you sure itâll fit?â
Bucky fisted his length and pressed the tip to your entrance.
âUhâŚyeah. Yeah, I think so.â
He hadnât yet met a woman who wasnât able to fit him.
âOkay.â
Somehow, your voice sounded even smaller, head lodged between pillows and the crook of Buckyâs elbow. You felt small. Frankly, it didnât seem like your husband was quite computing the worries that were pervading your brain, but you decided he knew bestâyour mother had assured you that husbands always didâand 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 heâd ever seen a womanâs, your hole practically pulsing with desire, and somehow, he couldnât 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. Heâd done this hundreds of times before, why wouldnât it work?
When he felt your eyes trail back up his body and study his faceâmaybe wondering why her new groom hadnât gotten around to thrusting into her yet, he thoughtâhe 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 heâd sworn to be a dutiful husband, and kept going.
Together, you stared anywhere but the otherâs face and gritted your teeth for two entirely different reasonsâyou, 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 Buckyâs back, Why isnât he looking at me? Why isnât 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 didnât care about your pleasure at all. You fought hard to keep the waterworks at bay, that one thing you hadnât 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.
âFeel so fucking tight,â Bucky grunted, about to lower his gaze to your face for the first time since heâd entered you, âSo nice and tight and wâhey, hey, baby?â
He stilled inside as soon as he saw that you were crying. Took your face in his hands and almost couldnât believe the sight of your tear-stained cheeks beneath him.
âWhatâs wrong? What happened?â he asked, scanning your face for any signs of harm.
You just shook your head and tried to brush him off.
âKeep going, Iâm good.â
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.
âAm I hurting you?â he asked.
âNââ
âDonât lie.â
You squirmed a bit and winced. That was answer enough for Bucky, and he slowly pulled out of you.
âAw hell.â
The two of you glanced down to see a blooming red spot on the comforter. Bucky rubbed the blood in disbelief.
Heâd gone too far. Again. Hurt something inside of you that couldnât 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.
âWhy didnât you say something?â he scowled.
âI didnât wanna interrupââ
âIf Iâm making you bleed, you stop me, for fuckâs sake.â
âWell you seemed to be having a pretty good time!â
Bucky didnât 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 didnât budge.
âCâmon,â you said, grabbing his wrist, âLetâs keep going.â
Bucky eyed you incredulously.
âNuh-uh.â
âUh-huh,â you insisted. He shot you a glare but didnât 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 couldnât believe it.
âMy headstrong wife.â 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.
âYou owe me two orgasms, remember, Mr. Barnes?â
It seemed Buckyâs 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.
âIf it hurts at all, you tell me.â
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 wouldâve screwed you six ways to Sunday if you asked him; that wasnât 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.
âYou sure about this, bunny?â he murmured.
Your heart melted at the name. You couldnât 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.
âAlright sweet girl,â 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 slitâpaying extra attention to your clitâand coated himself completely before trying to penetrate you again.
Your cheeks flushed, and you kissed him harder.
âP-please, Bucky, fuck me,â you murmured against his mouth, eliciting a small grunt from him.
âYeah? You want your husbandâs cock inside you, doll?â 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.
âEverything okay, bunny?â 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 followedâlike a pinch, but nothing like the pain youâd felt before. You peered up at your husband and squeezed his shoulders.
âItâ it doesnât hurt this time,â you said, breathless.
Bucky couldâve caved at the sweet, innocent expression aloneâlike you were pleasantly surprised this hadnât caused excruciating painâand his lips moved down to pepper your cheeks with kisses again.
âDoll, Iâm so sorry.â
The sounds and sighs of your pleasure beneath him, along with the words telling him it was okay, really, he hadnât 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 wasnât 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 bodiesâwatching you open for him and take him inch by inch. He rubbed his thumb over your clit when you whimpered.
âDoing so good for me.â
âStretching so nice for this cock.â
âMy beautiful, beautiful wife.â
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 didnât even hear yourself, or really mean to say it, as soon as you did.
âThis doesnât feel dirty at all.â
An epiphany to you and a puzzle to Bucky.
âWhatâsâat, honey?â He was still rutting his hips and slowly picking up speed. Your husband groaned when you clenched around him and pulled him even deeperâbefore you realized what youâd said.
Your cheeks flushed.
âIâ I was always told sex made you dirty. This feelsââ you stopped to swallow a moan when Bucky grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you, âpretty nice.â
âPretty nice.â Your husband couldnât 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.
âMakes you dirty?â Bucky said, disbelief evident in his tone before his smile broke into a grin, âBaby, youâre the cleanest, sweetest thing Iâve ever seen.â
He didnât 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.
âDoesnât make you dirty at all,â he assured you, âJust makes you my wife.â
You clawed Buckyâs back when he sped up a little, and you felt the pleasure soar to even greater heights when he propped your legs above his shouldersâa brand new angle for him to bend you like a pretzel and fuck you good.
âYou take this cock too nice to be dirty,â he gritted his teeth and continued to soothe you just how he knew you liked it, âSuch a good little wife, sucking up every inch of me like you were made for it.â
Your lips parted in a soft âo,â 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.
âThat what you are, bunny? A good girl?â
You nodded your head and sucked his thumb, feeling yourself fucked dumb as you did. Bucky loved that blissed out look in your eyes.
âGood girl for daddy?â 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.
âB-Bucky,â you whined, fisting the sheets underneath you both as you squirmed.
âMhmm?â Your husband pretended to be oblivious.
âI wâ Iâm gonnaââ The words could scarcely leave your lips without finding themselves punctured with a whimper as soon as they were spoken. Bucky thrusted harder.
âGonna what? Cum for daddy?â he grinned, âMake a mess all over this cock?â
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, Buckyâs 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 didnât 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.
âOne more for me, honey.â
You didnât 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.
âC-Canât Bucky, I canât, I canât,â you sobbed, tears still streaming down your cheeks.
âSure you can.â
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 youâdamn near grazing either side of your headâand pounded you relentlessly.
His voice seemed so calm and assured as he spoke,
âCum for daddy. Show me just how fucking good this cock makes you feel and cum again for me.â
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, Buckyâs 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.
âHoney,â 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.
âI love you.â
You blinked. No fucking way you were hearing those words.
âWhat?â You felt too awestruck to say anything else.
âI love you,â Bucky repeated. A smile was starting to tug at his lips, his thumb tracing your cheek while you stared at him in disbelief.
You wouldâve liked to speak.
Wouldâve 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 wasnât worth much at all when a man appeared and pressed the barrel of a gun to Buckyâs 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.
âSorry to interrupt the fun, Mr. Barnes,â 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.
âWe havenât even met your beautiful bride.â A set of cruel, glinting teeth turned in your direction. Suddenly, all eyes were trained on youâalong with a third handgun, pointed at your head, as another man approached.
âWedded bliss treating you well so far, Mrs. Barnes?â
#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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Bucky feral over pregnant reader
Pure pregnancy fluff and filth. This was meant to be pure fluff and then as usual, I got carried away, idk why I decided to make it this dirty.Â
I canât get over Bucky being obsessed with you carrying his baby. Yes heâs excited to be a dad but thereâs something about the fact that itâs you. Youâre pregnant because of him, itâs his little one in your perfect belly. Every tiny change he notices in your body makes him swoon from, from your swollen achy feet to your tender breasts, and your slightly plumper cheeks.Â
He fucking loves it.Â
Your his baby mama and nothing else matters, heâs so proud and in love with you. The swell of your tummy makes his heart beat faster, and the more it grows, the more irresistible he finds you.
âYouâre carrying my babyâ he coos, wrapping his hands around your tummy while you stand in the kitchen grabbing a snack. Heâs happy to cradle the little bump in his arms, easing some of the tension from your back, doing anything to help you feel better. Heâs such a lovesick puppy, always looking at you with heart eyes and it doesnât go unnoticed by the rest of the team.Â
âLook, heâs going it againâ Sam whispered to Steve, the both of them watching Bucky watching you flit around the kitchen with his chin resting on his hands, sighing, enamored with how pretty you are with your cute little waddle.Â
âDoes he plan on moving any time soon?â
âNopeâÂ
Bucky is so busy admiring you, he doesnât realize the team has started timing records for how long he just sits and watches because they find it utterly and disgustingly adorable.Â
He wants to make love to you the entire time, every hour if possible but mama also needs her rest so he doesnât try to tire you out. That doesnât mean he keeps his hands to himself, especially when youâre extra hormonal and needy.Â
âI got you, mamaâ He soothes you, pulling your soaked cotton panties off and pulling up your oversized shirt over your belly, his hands gently holding onto your hips and he pushes himself inside. He loves this position with your thighs spread apart, belly on full display, watching your face contort with pleasure, watching his cock thrust in and out of your dripping cunt.
It takes everything in him not to cum instantly, fucking his pretty, very pregnant girl, knowing he knocked her up, itâs his cum that has her all round and perfect, their love making thatâs giving him a family.Â
âFuck mama, mâgonna cumâ He canât help the whine and whimper of his voice, muscles tensed from trying to hold back but he canât, your body is so warm and soft, âSâtoo much, balls feel to heavy, you make my cock so sensitive, sâall fucked up, I canât-f-fuuckkâ His hips stutter and heâs spilling ropes of his creamy spend into you, already thinking of getting you pregnant immediately after.Â
He canât resist you even when youâre asleep.Â
âJamieâ you whine, your futile protests turning into a needy moan when you feel his tongue brush over your clit, his head between your legs, the time on the clock 1:15AM.Â
âPlease mama? Wanna make you feel good pretty baby, you deserve itâ He just had to get a taste and he doesnât relent till his beard is soaked and your a shaky, trembling mess. He suckles and nurses off your clit like itâs keeping him alive, pumping his fingers in and out of you till your eyes roll all the way back and your voice is cracking from screaming.Â
Your pregnancy has made him down right filthy and feral. Like when you finished up your shower, wrapped in nothing but a towel that barely covered anything. Bucky was sitting on the bed with a book in his hands, the story now long forgotten when he sees you sitting by the vanity, applying your lotion. You let the towel drop to the floor, now bare naked while rubbing silky cream onto your sensitive skin.Â
âFuck, yâcanât do that dollâ Bucky groans, his eyes trailing to your peaked buds down to your stretch marks and plush thighs, the soft rolls of your back making him feral, something he desperately wants to grab and squeeze them in his hands. âLet me help you, mamaâÂ
Heâs about to set his book down but you canât help but tease him, shaking your head instead.Â
âYâknow I can do this myself baby, I need to move around, doctors ordersâÂ
He knows youâre right but that doesnât stop all his blood rushing down to his now aching cock, screaming for attention. He palms himself, hoping itâd be enough to calm down but nope. You start to massage your swollen breasts, the smirk on your face shows you know what your doing. His cock ends up in his hand, book thrown aside, chest heaving up and down.Â
âFuck, mâso hardâ He moans, stroking himself while you giggle, continuing with your routine. âSânot fair babygirl, makes my cock hurt when you look so pretty like thatâÂ
Heâs careful to use slow, languid strokes because any tighter and heâd cum all over his fist. At some point his metal hand cups his balls because his body feels too hot and theyâre so fucking full. He could cum just from watching you but heâs more greedy than ever.Â
âMama. câmere, pleaseâ he pleads with glassy eyes between moans, struggling to keep his eyes open.Â
âNeed something Jamie?â You coo, your perfect naked form causing spurts of precum to shoot from his tip while you saunter over to him, removing his hand from his cock and pulling him to stand up. Heâs about to ask what youâre doing, stuttering when you bite your lip.Â
âOh god, fuck, no, you-you canât-â He chokes out while you sink to your knees, taking the head of his cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue around. He sobs at how angelic you look, your breasts heavier than ever, tummy nearly touching the floor. Youâre a whole Goddess, on your knees, sucking his dick, pregnant with his baby, Bucky swears heâs died and gone to heaven.Â
âFuck, A-angel, donât do this to me, mâgonna cum so much, feels too good, youâre so prettyâ He cups your cheeks with softly, whining when you pull of him with a pop, his arousal making your lips and chin glossy, dribbling down your neck.Â
âGo on daddy, mark meâ You smirk while he furiously jerks his cock above your face, cursing under his breath, his cock swelling in his fist. He feels his balls pull tight to his body, his heavy length leaking and already dripping on your face.Â
âOH GODâ He nearly roars, coating your entire face with his warm, sticky spend. âFUCK YESâ he lets the last few drops fall onto your belly, your body perfectly covered in him. He kisses it all off with sloppy kisses, hard again with him minutes, this time filling your perfect pussy up instead.Â
By the time heâs done, you need to shower again anyway, which heâs perfectly happy with, this time excited to join you.Â
âCâmon mama, lets get you cleaned up againâÂ
Sorry.Â
#bucky x pregnant reader#bucky x pregnant!reader#James Buchanan Bucky Barnes#Bucky Barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky#bucky barnes x fluff#bucky barnes pregnancy kink#bucky barnes pregnancy fluff#bucky barnes x freader#Bucky Barnes x f!reader#Bucky Barnes x female reader#Bucky Barnes x F Reader#bucky x f!reader#bucky x f reader#bucky x fluff#bucky x Female Reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky barnes x pregnant reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes breeding kink#bucky x smut#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky fan fiction#bucky fan fic
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Killing time at work and my God do I need me a CEO like that goddamn đŤ đĽ´
run little bunny
pairing: softdark!ceo!bucky x naive!assistant!reader
word count:Â 8.6k
summary: Being John Walkerâs assistant is hard; heâs mean, disrespectful, misogynistic, the whole nine yards. On top of that, he hardly pays you fairly. So, when youâre fired for a mistake youâre sure wasnât your fault, youâre at risk of being kicked out by your rude roommates. Luckily for you, James Barnes, a wildly successful CEO, has found his way into your life. And heâs going to take such good care of you.
warnings: where do i even start, 18+, minors DNI and i fucking mean it, mild coercion, some of it could be interpreted as stalking, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, sir kink, oral (f receiving), housewife kink, breeding kink, pet names (bunny, darling), dirty talk, dom!bucky and sub!reader, choking, squirting, basically just absolute filth, a little hurt-comfort, readerâs roommates are awful and mean, not john walker friendly but when am i ever
a/n: so this was supposed to just be some quick smut but as always i went overboard, so please enjoy! likes and comments are appreciated, reblogs are even better!
tip jar | main masterlist | ao3 | run little bunny masterlist
Your hands are shaking slightly, your heartbeat races with anxiety, and your leg bounces rapidly. Today is an important day after all, and your boss has made it clear that if you mess up in any way then heâd have to rethink your employment. That sent dread flooding through your body, so youâve been preparing yourself for the last week to make sure everything for the meeting is perfect.
And, on the technical side, everything is immaculate - mostly due to you staying up until almost midnight each night to polish the presentation. You thought everything was done properly, but when youâd walked into the building that morning your boss was holed up in his office finishing up his portion of the work, so youâd decided to simply email him to let him know that you had arrived.
Everything was perfect. But when you get into the meeting room, your bossâ eyes go wide, anger clouding them while he scowls. You quickly make your way to his side, only for him to bark out a command for you to grab water for his incoming guests. Placing your notebook on the table, you turn to scurry off to the side to grab the glasses, but youâre stopped when your boss grabs your arm harshly.
âDo you have a change of clothes?â
âUm⌠Um, I-â Your boss raises an eyebrow, and you feel like you might throw up from the sudden anxiety. âNo, sir.â
He scoffs, muttering under his breath something about looking âtrashy,â before releasing you and allowing you to go to the minibar.
Your arm stings, no doubt sporting a red mark because of how harsh the grip was. Youâre also confused because you thought the floral dress youâd chosen was pretty. Sure, it may not be high class, but your boss has never had a problem with it before, but youâre assuming that heâs on edge due to who heâs meeting with.
James Barnes; the most powerful and successful CEO in the entire country. You havenât met him personally, but from what you hear you know that heâs not someone you want to upset. According to the hushed whispers around the office, he stands at a towering 6â6, tattoos cover his arms and hands, and if he frowns then you better move out of the way.
Would Mr. Barnes be upset with your attire?
You desperately hope not, because you need this job. While you can barely make your rent and utilities, you donât have any other job lined up, and youâre way too scared to ask for a raise from a man who so clearly disrespects you. For right now, though, youâre stuck.
The oak doors open, and one of the office assistants steps off to the side while holding the door open for several men to walk in. You hear him before you see him. Youâve never heard his voice, but the commanding tone he uses when he addresses your boss lets you know that it must be him.
âHello, Mr. Walker,â Mr. Barnes greets him, and you can hear your boss stand and greet him as well.
Youâre trying your hardest to keep calm while you walk toward the table with a platter holding several glasses of water. You do your best to place them in front of the men without showing how nervous you are.
But when you get to Mr. Barnes, you nearly spill the drink all over the table once you get a whiff of his clearly expensive cologne. Oh, how youâd love to be surrounded by that scent, the woodsy smell almost intimidates you but youâre unsure as to why you donât mind.
Youâve never done anything even remotely sexual with a man, youâre far too awkward and anxious in a way that isnât too appealing to many, but for a very brief moment, you wonder what he looks like underneath the black three-piece suit â the prominent veins on his hands insinuates that the rest of his body is probably just as toned. But youâre immediately snapped out of your thoughts by your bossâ harsh voice calling your name.
âArenât you going to greet our guests?â
You breathe in sharply, heat flooding your face as you stumble your way through an apology and a polite âHello, Mr. Barnes.â
Youâre about to leave his side when he reaches out to grasp your hand â surprisingly gentle for such a powerful man. With a slight jump, you glance over to your boss whoâs staring at you as though youâre becoming a nuisance and should quickly get back to your chair beside his. But you canât, both because of Mr. Barnesâ hold and the fact that when you look back at the man in front of you his ocean-blue eyes pull you in, and youâre unable to break your gaze.
âAnd who might you be, darling?â His eyes twinkle with mischief but youâre too blind to see it, youâre too flustered to really focus.
âOh, you donât need to worry about her, sheâs just ââ
âI wasnât asking you,â Mr. Barnes snaps, briefly glancing at your boss and not bothering to hide his smirk when he almost visibly cowers. âNow, darling,â he continues, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. âWhatâs your name?â
You nearly squeak, having to force yourself to tell him your name before he gets upset with your lack of answer.
Mr. Barnes hums, then brings your hand up so he can place a delicate kiss on your knuckles. âA pretty name for a pretty girl.â
You flounder for a moment, unsure as to what to make of the compliment. You donât have much time to overthink it because this meeting has a time limit and youâre sure your boss would prefer to get this over with.
âTh-Thank you, sir.â Youâre not sure why, but your voice is breathy because something about that word â sir â just feels right for him, though youâre not sure what it means.
âSo polite,â He mumbles to himself, and his eyes seem to grow darker. Finally, he lets you go, shooting you a wink and smirking to himself when you scurry off to sit next to your boss.
The presentation went relatively smoothly â thank God. You donât know what you would have done if anything went wrong. In fact, Mr. Barnes seemed extremely invested in what you had to say, catching your gaze several times and causing you to stumble over your words a few times, only for your boss to clear his throat and glare at you. Eventually, Mr. Barnes throws him his own glare, silently telling him to shut up, to which your boss finally does.
Once the meeting was declared to be over, you were quick to close your notebook and tuck your pen behind your ear, then you went around the table and started collecting the now-empty glasses. As youâre running around the room trying to clean up, you can feel a powerful gaze boring holes into your body, but you try not to pay it any mind. Itâs probably just your boss anyway.
But when you turn away from the desk to finally leave, you bump into Mr. Barnes, your body nearly slamming into his very sturdy chest. His hands shoot to your hips almost immediately, helping to steady yourself.
The warmth of his body pulls you in, but that might also be because Mr. Barnes is literally bringing you closer to his chest by the hold he has on your hips. And thatâs when you realize that your hands are clutching his shoulders, but you canât find it in you to let go.
âWhatâs the rush?â He asks playfully, his upper lip quirking up in a smirk. âYouâre running around like a little bunny.â
âOh, oh Iâm sorry, Mr. Barnes.â Youâre not sure why youâre apologizing, you recognize that heâs just teasing, but something in you doesnât want to disappoint him.Â
âMr. Barnes.â He hums, his eyes briefly glancing down to your lips. âI like it when you call me that.â
Now youâre really flustered, your face heats up and you have to do everything in your power not to faint â the way his voice deepens is doing something to you and you donât know how to handle it.
âIâd like it a lot more if you called me James, though. Can you do that for me, bunny?âÂ
âYe-Yes, James.â You might have been embarrassed about how quick you were to answer him, but the way he closes his eyes and tightens the hold he has on your body youâre thinking it was the right decision.
Mr. Barnes â James â opens his mouth again, but is interrupted by the door being opened by one of the office assistants, whose eyes immediately go wide in shock. It seems to take a second for her to gather her bearings, but she recovers soon enough.
âMr. Walker is requesting you,â She tells you, glancing over at James and giving him a nervous smile. âHe says you have to file all of the paperwork for the meeting.â
You sigh, youâre tired of having to do everything for your boss only for him to take credit ninety percent of the time. But, itâs what youâre paid to do, so you suck it up.Â
Looking back to James, you give him a shy smile, reluctantly removing your hands from his shoulders.Â
âUm, I guess I should go, James.â Youâre a little sad, and you donât quite know why having to leave him and go back to your duties makes you so anxious. It could be because Mr. Walker is mean, or maybe because James makes you feel safe. In reality, itâs probably a mixture of both.
âI guess you should,â He murmurs, removing one of his large hands from your waist so he can cup the back of your neck and pull you closer, only for him to press a lingering kiss on your forehead.
And absolutely no one can blame you for the quiet whimper that leaves your lips, even though you are surprised by your reaction. It doesnât matter though, because he finally moves back, letting go of you and reaching into the pocket on the inside of his suit jacket so he can pull out what looks like a business card.
âHere,â James says, handing it to you. âIn case you ever want to talk, youâre always free to call me.â
âWhat would we talk about?â Your confusion causes James to chuckle, and he seems amused by your naivety.
âWhatever you want, Bunny. Whether you just want to talk about nonsense or vent about your boss. Doesnât matter to me as long as I get to hear your beautiful voice.â
With that, he gives you a wink, then turns to the door and leaves, though he does glance back at you. With one final smile, he leaves, and youâre left with a million racing thoughts while standing in the middle of the meeting room.
It took three days for you to finally reach out to James. As soon as you got home that night you ran to your bedroom and added his number to your phone, going so far as to put his business card in your bedside table drawer so you wouldnât lose it. It just took a little time to gain the courage to actually contact him. After all, what if he was just being friendly? Youâve never met anyone quite like him, so itâs hard to read into his actions.
But today had gone horribly. The cafĂŠ you frequent before work was so busy that you didnât have time to grab your coffee without being extremely late, the bistro you were demanded to pick up lunch from was closed â and while it wasnât your fault, Mr. Walker certainly seemed to think it was. Your workload was piled high and by the end of the day, you were on the verge of crying due to the stress and mean comments thrown at you by your boss.
You need a shoulder to lean on and, unfortunately for you, you donât have anyone else to go to. Youâre pretty sure your roommates hate you and only let you live with them because they havenât found a new roommate yet, you donât have siblings and your parents are states away, and you have maybe a few friends, but even then the communication is scarce.
You need a shoulder to lean on, and James offered his, so you finally decided to pull up his contact and start a new message. It takes several minutes to figure out what to say, but you eventually settle on something simple.
Hi, James. I donât know if you remember me, but Iâm Mr. Walkerâs assistant. You gave me your number in case I ever wanted to talk.
You hit send and stare down at your phone anxiously as you wait for a reply. A minute goes by, then two, suddenly five, and then youâre starting to regret texting him, what if he doesnât remember you? What if heâs busy? What if âÂ
Your phone starts ringing, Jamesâ name popping up on the screen and taunting you â almost commanding you to answer.
âHello?â
âGood evening, bunny,â James says softly, and if you press your ear close enough to your phone you could pretend that heâs right next to you.
âHi, James. I hope Iâm not disturbing you.â Your voice is soft and timid, youâd hate to disrupt anything heâs doing.
âDonât be silly, bunny,â He says, his smile evident in his tone. âI always have time for you.â
âOh, um. Thank you, sir.â Itâs almost indescribable, but you can just make out the soft curse James lets out, followed by some shuffling.
âSo, what did you want to talk about?â
Youâre a little apprehensive, but with Jamesâ gentle encouragement, youâre able to get everything off your chest, complaining about your day and everything that went wrong. Each word spoken feels like weights lifting off of your shoulders, allowing you to breathe easier every time James hums. He doesnât interrupt you, which you greatly appreciate, and by the time youâre done, you fall backward onto your bed, relieved.
âIâm sorry you had such a bad day, bunny,â James coos with his smooth-as-honey voice, filling your body with warmth and comfort. âA pretty girl like you doesnât deserve to be treated like that.â That comment floods your face with heat and you shuffle up the bed to lean against the headboard.
âOh, I - thank you, sir.â There it is again, sir. James exhales slowly as though heâs trying to control himself from doing something he shouldnât, and part of you is momentarily worried that youâve upset him somehow. You donât want to disappoint him.
âWhat can I do to help?â
What can he do to help? Youâre not quite sure, youâre not sad, and youâre not angry, but you would be lying if you said you didnât need at least a hug right now. But, it would be too imposing to ask, right? Thereâs no way he would be willing to come over â that is, if your roommates would even allow him over. And he certainly wouldnât invite a stranger into his house. So, you lie to him.
âOh â Oh, no, James, I donât â you donât have to â itâs fine ââ
âBunny.â
Your mouth promptly closes, taking a deep breath through your nose and exhaling slowly.
âSorry, James.â
âDonât be sorry, bunny.â Thereâs some shuffling in the background as he talks and you canât help but sigh at how sincere his voice is. âNow, what can I do to help?â And before you can even open your mouth heâs talking again, âDonât say nothing, because I know thereâs something you want.â
Youâre silent for a moment, stewing over how to tell him. But, heâll probably just be empathetic and say something along the lines of âIâd hug you if I were there right nowâ. So, you decide to just spit it out.
âI guess I just want⌠I just need a hug, I think,â You sigh, feeling a sudden sense of loneliness. Itâs hard not having anyone to talk to, to be isolated even from the people you live with, to be put down time and time again, and not have anyone to support you.
âWhere are you?â James asks, and you hear some more shuffling in the background, followed by the jingling of what sounds like keys.
âIâm at my apartment,â You say, confused. He couldnât possibly be coming over, could he?
âSend me your address and Iâll come pick you up, weâll go out for ice cream,â James says decisively, and you can tell he doesnât want any protesting. âBunny,â He says when you donât say anything. âYou need cheering up and Iâm here to do just that. Please send me your address.â He speaks gently but once again, he doesnât seem to want you to argue against it.
âO-Okay, I will.â
âGood, Iâll see you soon, bunny.â When you bid him goodbye, he hangs up, and youâre quick to send him your address, giving him instructions to text you when he arrives so you can meet him out front of the building.
During the next twenty or so minutes youâre practically running around your room trying to make yourself look presentable. You cried all of your makeup off so you opt to just wash the rest of it off, and then you pull your hair back and away from your face. It takes a bit to decide what to wear, after all this is just a friend taking another friend to get ice cream, but this is also James Barnes; he has more wealth than you could possibly imagine. You want to impress him and appear grateful for his friendliness, and looking at least half-decent would achieve that.
Finally, someone knocks on your door, yelling, âSomeoneâs here for you!â
With a rush of excitement, you grab your phone and wallet and slip on your shoes, then make your way out of your room to the front door where another roommate is standing in front of it, leaning against the frame and giggling at the person.
James.
He looks bored, almost like heâs trying to appear interested but canât quite muster up the energy to do so. When you approach, he lifts his head, a wide smile crossing his face.
âThereâs my little bunny,â He says confidently, completely ignoring your annoyed roommate. âCome on, letâs get you cheered up.â
With that you walk to him, timidly accepting his outstretched hand and letting him gently tug you into the hallway. When you turn around to tell your roommate that youâll be back later you canât even get a word out before you see her glaring at you and shutting the door â the click of the lock is audible through the empty hallway.
âAre they always like that?â James asks with a tone that conveys concern.
âLike what?â You know what heâs talking about, but you hate acknowledging it.
âRude and disrespectful.â He is so blunt that it causes you to look down in embarrassment to avoid his intense gaze.
Yes, you want to say, theyâre awful. You want to shout from the rooftops that your roommates are horrible to you, but youâre just too scared to do it.
âOh â Oh, no, theyâre justâŚâ You trail off, peeking up at James to see the disbelief in his eyes. When you look down again, he brings up one of his hands to cup your cheek and guide your head up so you can look at him head-on.
âYou donât need to lie to me, bunny. I want you to trust me.â James sighs, leaning forward and placing a small kiss on your forehead. âCome on,â He squeezes your hand, smiling softly at you as he starts walking you out of the building and to his car.
It doesnât take long to get to the ice cream shop, only a five-minute drive, and when you get there James keeps the car locked as he gets out so he can circle around to your side and open your door for you.
âTh-Thank you,â You say as you put your hand in Jamesâ outstretched one, letting him guide you out of the car. He keeps his hold on your hand as you walk into the shop, going so far as to thread your fingers together while you wait in line.
The image of your hand encompassed by Jamesâ large tattooed one has your tummy fluttering with butterflies. But, you must have been staring for a little too long because youâre broken out of your trance by James gently squeezing your hand.
âIs this okay, bunny?â
âYes!â Heat floods your face as soon as you say it, feeling embarrassed by how quick you were to answer. âI, I mean. Um⌠Yes, itâs okay.â
James smirks at you, clearly enjoying how flustered you are. But, before you can stew in your shame, the man behind the counter says, âNext!â
You walk up to the counter, letting James order before giving yours. And when itâs time to pay, James doesnât even drop your hand while he fishes his wallet out of his pocket and takes out his card. Your tummy flutters once again.
âCome, bunny.â
With your desserts now in hand, James leads you to a corner booth, only letting go of your hand so you can scoot in. He sits across from you, looking at you with what can only be described as thinly veiled hunger. Itâs not off-putting, you just donât know what it means.
âSo, umâŚâ You trail off looking down at your bowl of ice cream, fiddling with the spoon they gave you.
âYou donât need to be nervous, bunny,â James coos, reaching over and placing his hand palm up on the table, and youâre helpless but to take it, practically aching to feel his warmth again. âNow, other than everything that happened today, how have you been?â
Itâs surprisingly easy to fall into a pleasant conversation with him, he asks questions and lets you finish talking before adding his own input, and he doesnât break eye contact. It feels like heâs really listening to what youâre saying, and itâs almost freeing to have someone in your corner, someone you can trust and depend on.
What feels like far too soon, though has probably been several hours due to how dark it is outside, the man behind the counter comes to your table to tell you that theyâre closing soon, and you canât help but be sad. Youâre enjoying Jamesâ company far more than you probably should since youâve only known him for a handful of days. It almost seems like youâve known him your whole life.
âWell, bunny. I guess itâs time to go,â James says remorsefully, getting up out of the booth and reaching out his hand to help you out of the booth as well. He keeps holding your hand while you walk out of the door â making sure to throw away your trash on the way out.
James insists on opening the car door for you again â ever the gentleman. Thereâs a comfortable silence on the drive back to your apartment, your stomach swirling the entire time because James refuses to drop your hand. But when you get to your apartment building, a small amount of anxiety settles inside you, and youâre desperately hoping your roommates are asleep because you donât feel like dealing with them after youâve had such a good evening.
The silence is a little more tense while you ride the elevator up to your floor, but youâre grounded by Jamesâ touch. Itâs not until you get to your front door that you really look at him, staring into his twinkling eyes. And when he smiles, it settles your nerves.
âI guess this is the end of our night, bunny,â He says, squeezing your hand one last time before dropping it. Before you can mourn the loss of his touch heâs wrapping you in his arms and pulling you close to his chest, and you desperately hope he doesnât hear the squeak you let out. You wrap your arms around his waist, letting James tuck your face into his neck while he holds you close.
âI had a wonderful time tonight,â James murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead.
âMe too,â You say softly, breathing in and inhaling his comforting scent. âThank you for cheering me up.â
âOf course, bunny. Iâm always here for you.â Then, James pulls his head back so he can look into your eyes. âAlways.â
You canât help but smile. His gaze is hypnotizing, pulling you in and almost refusing to let you go.
âThank you, James,â You breathe out, and one last time, James squeezes you and kisses your forehead, then steps back.
âIâll talk to you soon, bunny?â James asks, smiling wide.
âYâYeah, Iâll text you. Or you can text me. Or call, thatâsâthatâs fine too.â Heat floods your face in embarrassment, but you donât feel too bad about it because James only smiles wider, nodding once.
âI will.â
âGoodnight, James.â With that, you turn and unlock your door, turning around to look at James one last time as you shut the door.
âGoodnight bunny, I hope you have dreams as sweet as you are.â James winks, and you swear you can hear him chuckle when you squeak out an âo-okay,â and shut the door.
And maybe James is some kind of wizard because you have the best night of sleep youâve had in a while.
For the next few weeks you and James text almost every day, and talk on the phone every couple of days. Youâve met up with him a few times as well, accepting his invitations to lunch or coffee. Each outing would last for several hours, too enraptured by his⌠everything to be the one to suggest the night should end. Youâve come to trust him, you know with a possibly concerning amount of certainty that James would do everything possible to keep you happy and safe.
Roughly a month and a half after meeting James, youâre sitting on your bed in the same position you were in when you first called him crying. Unlike last time, though, you donât hesitate to call him. Heâs told you time and time again that it doesnât even matter if heâs in a meeting, heâll always make time for you. You just hope thatâs true.
He picks up almost immediately.
âHello, bunny,â James says with the same soft tone he always uses when talking to you.
âH-hi, James,â You manage to say, before breaking out into sobs. Youâre nearly hyperventilating, trying and failing to catch your breath between hiccups, and it takes a few minutes to calm down enough to hear rustling in the background on Jamesâ end.
âAre you at home?â He asks with the utmost concern.
âYe-Yes.â
âStay there,â He says, using what youâve deemed his CEO voice. âIâm coming to get you.â
âJaââ
âBunny.â
You sigh, knowing you canât change his mind â not that you really want him to. You could really benefit from a hug right about now and James always provides the best ones.
âCan you at least stay on the phone with me?â Your voice is small, still sniffling every few words. You donât think you could handle being alone with your own thoughts right now.
âOf course. You know Iâll do anything for you.â
It takes James twenty minutes to get to you, and he talks to you the whole time, just menial things to get your mind off of your sadness. When he lets you know that heâs at your apartment, you donât even wait for him to tell you heâs coming up, you simply grab your jacket and slip on your shoes, then run to the front door without so much as a word to your roommates in the living room.
âJames!â Upon seeing the man himself standing next to his car, you fling yourself into his arms, taking deep breaths to prevent yourself from crying in public. âThank you for coming.â
âBunny, how many times do I have to tell you that Iâll do whatever it takes to keep a smile on your pretty face?â Jamesâ tone is teasing, but you know heâs serious if his stern and concerned gaze is anything to go by.
You nod, blinking back tears. Itâs so nice to have a friend like James Barnes; kind, chivalrous, attentive. With the way he acts sometimes, youâd almost think heâs interested in more than friendship, but you always shake that thought off. Heâs too handsome and wealthy to date some random personal assistant whoâs barely able to make her rent.
âCome on, bunny,â James moves back but keeps an arm wrapped around your waist, leading you to his car and helping you in. Like always, he waits for you to sit so he can strap you in your seatbelt, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before shutting the door then running around to the driver's seat.
This time, instead of taking a left at the light at the end of your block, he keeps going forward, taking turns until youâre not exactly sure where you are.
âUm, where are we going?â
âMy house,â James says casually, briefly glancing at you so he can give you that ever-soft smile.
âBut, isnât your house only twenty minutes away?â Youâre confused, and a little curious as to what heâs talking about.
âI only stay there when I have meetings in the city. I have a house a little further out where I live most of the time. Itâs a little more lived-in, so I want to bring you there where youâll feel a little moreâŚâ James pauses for a moment, glancing at you again. âAt home.â His explanation makes sense in your brain, quickly squashing any nerves that you had. Heâs rich, so of course heâd have multiple houses.
Itâs almost an hour long drive to get to his house. Well, house feels like an inappropriate term for what it actually is. Itâs more like a mansion, standing tall at three stories, a long driveway with trees lining either side of the road, and a luscious garden surrounding the property.
James helps you out of the car and guides you up the steps to the front door, where he unlocks it and lets you step inside. The moment you pass through the threshold your jaw nearly drops to the floor; a large chandelier hangs from the ceiling right when you step in and beautiful artwork adorns the walls. The open floor plan gives you a good view of the living room and kitchen from your vantage point, and you canât wait to sink into the luxurious and almost comically large couch in front of the TV.
âCan I get you anything to drink?â James urges you further in, bringing you to the living room.
âUm, just water is fine.â You look up at him, smiling shyly and nearly tripping when he smiles back.
âIâll be right back,â James says, watching as you sit and sink into the plush couch. âMake yourself at home.â The look in his eyes when he says it sparks something inside you, something warm and fuzzy. Thinking of Jamesâ house as your home makes your tummy flutter, but you donât understand why.
God, you need to get it together.
Youâre left alone for a moment, and everything is quiet except for the fridge opening and the glasses clinking. Jamesâ absence allows you a moment to breathe properly, being with him always leaves you flustered, though you canât deny that some part of you likes it. You like his commanding nature, how deep his voice gets when he talks passionately about something, how warm his embrace is when he holds you for what might be a little too long, squeezing you like he doesnât want to let you go.
âHere you go, bunny.â Suddenly, a glass of water appears in front of you, and you take it with a gracious smile and a small âthank you.â
âSo,â He says, sitting next to you â really close â and throwing his arm over your shoulders, practically pulling you into his lap. âDo you want to tell me whatâs wrong?â
Tears immediately spring to your eyes, suddenly remembering how horrible today was. You force yourself to take a couple of sips of your glass but your hand starts shaking enough to where James takes your glass and sets it on the coffee table in front of you.
âBunnyââ
His soft voice causes you to start crying, throwing yourself into his chest and burying your face in his neck as you sob out your troubles. Jamesâ hand is warm on your back, rubbing it soothingly and squeezing you close to him. This time, he actually pulls you in his lap, youâre grasping the front of his sweater while he maneuvers your body so youâre straddling his thighs, and you canât help but scoot closer so youâre sitting on him properly with your body flush against his.
A few minutes of crying later and your tears have finally slowed, your sobs deforming into hiccups until you calm down enough to hear James cooing into your ear, whispering sweet nothings. When you finally catch your breath, you pull back, staring up at James with wide eyes and a pout.
âI-I⌠I was fired! Fired! And I donât know what Iâm going to do! Mr. Walker just tossed me to the side because a document went missing and he blamed me, and now Iâm jobless and my roommates are definitely going to kick me out because I can barely make my rent as it is. What am I going to do?â
James sighs, rubbing one hand up and down your back and keeping his other on your waist, though they manage to sneak up your shirt a little without your notice.
âIâm sorry, bunny,â He starts, giving you a comforting smile. âItâs awful that happened to you, and itâs not your fault, so donât go blaming yourself like I know you want to.â
Your face goes warm with embarrassment. How is he able to read you so easily?
âAnd as far as your living situation, youâll move in with me.â
âJames!â Your eyebrows furrow, your head automatically shaking. âNo, no I canât do that to you. I donât have a job anymore and I definitely canât afford to pay you rent, I-I canât burden you like that.â Even though it hurts to say it, you want to be honest with him. Because how on Earth are you supposed to pay him back for this?
âYouâre not a burden.â Youâre surprised by his angry tone, and his eyes darken as though heâs challenging you to say otherwise. âYouâll never be a burden on me, bunny. Iâm offering you this, I donât want you to pay me.â
As though he can sense your hesitation, he gives you a playful smirk.
âBut if you really want to help, how about you do the cooking and cleaning? I donât always get a good home-cooked meal, and itâd be nice to come back from work to see you in a cute little apron.â
This makes you giggle, a weight lifting off your shoulders when you nod timidly. âI-I can do that. Iâll do anything.â
And while you had pure intentions with that statement, James takes it differently, his eyes darkening even further as he nibbles at his bottom lip.
âAnything?â He smirks wider when you nod eagerly because thatâs what you are. Always eager to please â especially please James.
âYes, anything!â
James hums, seemingly thinking something over, before sliding one of his hands up the back of your shirt.
âHow about you give me a kiss? I havenât had a good one in a while,â While he sounds like heâs teasing, his face shows heâs anything but.
He really wants you to kiss him. And, well, itâs not like youâre going to deny him, youâre too grateful for his generosity. Plus, youâd be insane to pass up such an opportunity, heâs handsome, kind, and makes you feel safe. So, with only a little hesitation, you lean down and press your lips against his in a simple peck, but before you can pull away James groans, placing one hand on the back of your head to keep you steady.
His lips practically attack yours, his tongue invading your mouth and taking what it wants â you. You donât even know it but youâre whimpering almost immediately, opening your mouth and letting James consume you whole. Heâs smiling against your lips, biting your bottom lip as he retreats for a moment so he can stare up into your eyes.
âYouâre so beautiful, bunny,â James whispers reverently like heâs hypnotized. And heâs not the only one. Your brain is quickly going silent, your sole focus is on James and how good heâs making you feel.
âReally?â
âSo beautiful, Iâve always thought so.â His confession makes you whine, he thinks youâre beautiful, this gorgeous man with the deepest blue eyes youâve ever seen. Suddenly, James curses softly, grabbing your waist under your shirt, and thatâs when you realize youâve started subconsciously moving your hips against his.
âS-Sorry,â You mumble, though youâre not too sorry considering you canât stop rolling down onto his lap, it feels too good.
âDonât be.â James hums thoughtfully, leaning forward slightly and wrapping his arms around your waist. âWhy donât we go to my room? Itâll be more comfortable.â
You donât even wait for him to finish before you start eagerly nodding your head, adjusting your legs as he stands so you can wrap them around his waist. He carries you to his room, smirking to himself the entire time because you canât stop kissing and biting his neck in the hopes of leaving a mark, staking your claim. When you finally get there, James quickly shuts the door behind him and then drops you down onto the bed.
âSir,â You whine when he doesnât do anything, heâs only standing at the end of the bed, staring at you with eyes so dark with lust that you canât see the blue of them.
âDonât worry, bunny, Iâll take good care of you.â With that, he swiftly strips his shirt off and tosses it to the side, then undoes the button on his pants, slowly dragging down the zipper with a wide smirk at the haze in your eyes. âDo you want to help me?â
It takes a few moments for you to understand what heâs asking of you, but once you do you push yourself up, shuffling over to him until youâre sitting with your legs underneath your butt. For a moment youâre not sure what to do, you reach out for his pants but freeze mid-air because you just now realize that you donât know what the fuck youâre doing. Youâve never been in this situation before, your sexual exploits consist of goodnight kisses on the few dates youâve been on, and your vibrator in your nightstand that has been working overtime ever since you met James.
âI-Iâm sorry,â You murmur, embarrassment flooding your features.
âWhy are you sorry, bunny?â Jamesâ voice is soft, soothing your worries.
âI⌠I donât know what Iâm doing. Iâve never⌠been with a man before.â Your hands fall to your lap at the same time you hang your head. What if you disappoint him? You donât know what youâre doing and youâd hate to mess anything up.
âI know, bunny. Itâs okay.â James lifts your chin with his fore and middle fingers, guiding you to look at him again. âIâll teach you everything.â His voice dips lower, his bottom lip getting trapped between his teeth when you smile, relieved.
âNow, Iâm going to take off my pants, but I want you to take off my boxers. Okay?â
âYes, sir,â You say quickly, eyes dropping to his crotch as he begins pulling the denim down, down, down until it pools on the floor. He steps out of them, then steps in front of you with his arms hanging by his side. When he raises his eyebrow, nodding to his underwear, you reach out for him again, this time with only a small amount of hesitation. Your nerves are nearly off the charts, but knowing that James is going to guide you makes you feel better.
Your hands are shaking slightly when you pull them down, and absolutely no one can fault you for the loud gasp you let out when heâs finally bare because holy shit. Despite being relatively anxious and naive surrounding sex, youâve watched your fair share of porn, and while the men in them did usually have big dicks, they seem small compared to Jamesâ.
Youâre almost frightened, how the hell is that going to fit inside you? James chuckles, and you realize you probably said that aloud.
âDonât worry, bunny. Iâll make it fit,â James groans, reaching down to grab the bottom of your shirt. âIâm going to take this off now, okay?â He tugs it up and over your head once you give your consent, tossing it to the side and cursing when he sees the light pink bra barely covering your breasts. James is biting his lip so hard youâre worried he might draw blood, but you donât pay it any mind because heâs soon urging you to lay on your back with your legs dangling over the edge.
âGonna take these off too.â
Giving him a shy smile and a nod, he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweatpants, glancing up at you one final time to make sure youâre okay before he surprises you by pulling them off of your legs in one swift movement. Youâre tugged down the bed a little, a shocked gasp leaving your lips.
âFucking angelic,â James murmurs, dropping to his knees and placing his large, rough hands on your knees. He smirks when he sees your matching light pink panties, already soaking wet at the crotch. You have to bite your lip to keep from whimpering when he pushes your legs wide apart, but you canât stop yourself from squirming when he doesnât do anything else.
âJames,â You whine, high-pitched and needy.
âSir,â He reminds you with a raised eyebrow as though heâs daring you to say his real name again. And just for good measure, he surprises you by lifting up one of his hands and swinging it down onto your clothed pussy in a harsh swat, causing you to let out a loud moan.
âSir! I-Iâm sorry, sir.â
âItâs okay, little bunny,â James coos as he runs his hands up the back of your thighs so he can push them up and out, letting him get a good look at where you need him most. âAre you going to let me eat your pretty pussy?â
Even though itâs phrased as a question, you know James isnât going to take ânoâ for an answer. Itâs not like you even want to tell him ânoâ, youâre too desperate for something, anything.
âY-Yes, sir. Please.â Your begging makes him groan, and he quickly dips forward so heâs not even an inch away from your core, inhaling deeply and cursing again.
With a quick kiss to your covered clit, he twists his fingers into the band of your panties and rips them into pieces, and you know youâll have marks from it. But you want them, you want evidence of this night, and youâll gladly take anything he gives you. And no sooner than your panties off do James dive in, inhaling once more before his tongue sneaks out and licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit.
Itâs at that point that you know youâre well and truly fucked, because thereâs no way youâre not going to become addicted to the feeling of his tongue dipping into your quivering hole, the way he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks it into his mouth, the way he groans into your pussy like thereâs nowhere else heâd rather be.
And it doesnât take long for your legs to start shaking, desperately trying to close around Jamesâ head but not being able to due to his hands gripping your thighs and holding them still. The filthy groans he lets out are enough to make you cum alone, but then he attaches his lips to your clit again and gently bites down, forcing an obscene moan out of your mouth.
He lets you get used to the pleasure, switching between fucking his tongue deep inside you and flicking at your clit, and only when he decides youâre ready does he manage to slide his forefinger in your pussy all the way to the third knuckle.
âSir!â You canât help but yell. Yes, it stings, but itâs far outweighed by the pleasure of his tongue assaulting your pulsating nub.
He wastes no time in slowly sliding it in and out, wiggling it around until you whine loudly, letting him know heâs found that special spot. Youâre too out of it to realize it but James is smiling, clearly smug at how heâs making you react. You wouldnât care anyway, in fact, he deserves it. Heâs making you feel too good, especially when he slips in his middle finger and spreads them.
âOh god! Yes, fuck. Sir, yes,â Youâre incoherent, blabbering nonsense because your brain is too foggy to form a coherent thought. James picks up the pace, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking it as he thrusts his fingers directly at your g-spot.
âSir! Sir, I-IâmâŚâ As soon as he started, he stopped, pulling out his fingers and leaning back slightly with a wide grin. His chin is coated in your juices, and the gleam in his eyes shows you that youâre not going to be able to cum so easily.
âNot yet, bunny,â James says when you whine pathetically, trying to buck your hips up into his mouth but unable to do so because of his commanding grip now holding your waist. âIâm not letting you cum until Iâm inside you.â
James then climbs onto the bed, guiding you upwards to lay your head against the plush pillows so he can lean over your body. With little preamble, he snakes his arms around your back to quickly unclasp your bra and allow your breasts to spill free.
âI canât wait to watch these bounce,â James groans, palming one of them, twisting and pinching at your nipple. James just laughs when you hiss, because your soaked pussy is enough to tell him that youâre loving what heâs doing.Â
âBunny.â He says gruffly, and your eyes shoot up to meet his, though you can hardly see him because your vision is hazy, nothing matters except James. âAre you ready?â
Youâre barely able to mumble âyesâ, but you manage to do so, and James takes that as his cue to grasp the base of his cock and position it at your entrance. He places his other hand on your neck, lightly squeezing the sides to keep your eyes locked on his.
The pressure against your hole is immense, James telling you to breathe as he slowly pushes deeper. He stops about halfway through, giving you a moment for the pain to fade. Heâs clearly having a hard time staying still but is cognizant enough to know youâre overwhelmed. It takes a few minutes of deep breathing before you finally nod, silently letting him know that he can move. And he does, pushing in all the way until his hips are flush with yours. Once again, he stills, leaning down to brush his lips over your cheeks and catch the tears spilling from the corners of your eyes.
âH-Hurts, sir,â You whimper out, forcing yourself to keep eye contact with him. And while your core is burning, James looks so damn proud that youâre taking him that it pushes away any discomfort.
âDo you want me to stop?â
âNo!â Even though youâre in mild pain youâre pretty sure youâll cry if he pulls out, you need everything he can give you. âPlease, donât stop.â
âDonât worry, bunny,â James coos, then tightens his grip around your neck ever so slightly. âIâll give you what you need.â And as though a switch was flipped, James pulls back, pausing for half a second before thrusting forward.
âAhhh!â Your mouth drops open as you scream, your arms coming up to claw at Jamesâ shoulders and back as he gives you all he has.
And he has a lot to give. He puts his back into fucking you, keeping one hand around your neck and using his other arm to pull your left leg over his shoulder. Sweat beads at your hairline, your eyes stinging with tears, your whole body lit on fire. At this moment, nothing matters except the delicious burn between your legs, the way your body is shoved further up the bed with each of Jamesâ powerful thrusts until it gets to the point where he has to place the hand around your leg on the headboard to steady you.
âFuck, bunny, you feel so good. Youâre so good for me.â James canât stop mumbling praises, and even though you canât really hear them, you feel them. Your eyes donât move from his, even as he glances down to where your bodies are joined. âFuck, little bunny. Your pussy looks so good stuffed full of my cock, knew youâd take me so well.â
âS-Sir,â You whimper, bucking your hips up to meet his thrusts and digging your nails into his skin. But James doesnât seem to mind if the way his whole body shudders and his hips slightly lose their rhythm is anything to go by.
âAre you gonna be a good little bunny and cum for me?â James moves his gaze back up to your face, chuckling when he sees how fucked-out you already are. Despite his hand still around your neck you manage to nod, little cries and whines escaping into the air every time Jamesâ cock gets shoved against your cervix.
âYeah, you are,â James continues, leaning over your body even more and shifting so the tip of his dick hits your spot with every thrust. âYouâre going to squirt all over my cock so I can cum deep in your cunt. Gonna cum in you every day, keep you full of me, maybe even plug you up to make sure it sticks.â
Youâre right there, your pleasure climbing higher and higher until youâre ready to fall off the edge. Jamesâs next sentence sends you there.
âFuck, bunny. Youâre going to be the perfect little mommy to all the children Iâm gonna give you.â
When you wake up, James will tell you about how you came so hard that you blacked out, squirting and gushing around his cock while he continued telling you how even more beautiful youâll be when youâre pregnant, taking care of him and his home, how he knew you were the one for him from the moment he first saw you. Your things will already be moved into his house. New clothes chosen specifically for you will be hung up in his closet and the bathroom will be adjusted to fit your products. The kitchen is going to be filled with all the food you like. And your cat will be curled up in a miniature hammock in her very own room.
When you wake up, youâll see how much thought James put into redecorating his home just for you.
And youâll be too grateful for his kindness to question where he put your birth control.
main taglist: @lilyalone / @crazyunsexycool / @goldylions / @yeehawbrothers / @buckyssweetheart / @buckysprettybaby / @sushiseoks / @heytheredelulu / @somnorvos / @ozwriterchick / @pxgeturner / @gentlelimerence
bucky taglist: @justsebstan / @myfavbuckyfics
#jokes on him bc i have an iud đ#im kidding but nice lil breeding kink mention at the end there đ#fic rec#bucksangel#i haven't read in so long i hope i have more slow days at work lmaooo#bucky barnes x reader
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only man allowed
pairing: toxic!bucky barnes x toxic!female reader
summary: you're feeling particularly needy one night, but when you text your situationship to come over, he reminds you that he won't wear a condom, which is a problem since it's a risky time of the month for you. but you tell him to come over anyway.
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established situationship, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (f receiving), consensual non-consent and consensual sexual coercion, sexual roleplay, 'just the tip' trope, breeding kink, bdsm elements, some biting and marking, some dacryphilia, some pain play, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, pet names (baby), begging, teasing, multiple orgasms, aftercare, taking and sending nude photos, possessive behavior, toxic behavior, jealousy, referenced but not shown situationship between reader and john walker, very anti-john walker behavior
word count: 8.5k
a/n: listen, i definitely wrote this at a certain time of the month and i'm not going to apologize for it!!! what i will apologize for is the fact that this ended up being way longer than i expected!! i wanted these to be short little fics, but apparently toxic bucky won't let me keep things short đ¤ anyway, this was fun to write and i hope y'all enjoy it!! âĄ
you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist
You missing me, baby?
You could perfectly imagine the arrogant smirk on Bucky Barnesâ stupidly handsome face and the playful glint of mischief in his eye as he asked you that question in response to the picture youâd sent. It was a hastily taken photo of your body clad only in one of Buckyâs t-shirts, your fingers pulling up the hem to show a pair of pantiesâthe ones that had made him groan like he was being tortured when heâd first seen them.Â
The truth was, you were missing him. You were horny as fuck and you didnât care if he knew itâwhich, you were certain he did, because you only ever sent him lewd photos of yourself when you wanted himâbut would it kill Bucky to show a little bit of reciprocity, instead of sending you that teasing response?
It didnât matter that his playfully cocky words only drove your need higher, your body warming as heat flooded between your thighs. You were missing Buckyâs brand of arrogance, and it was all you could think about, the deep rasp of his voice in your ear while he pounded into you, the dirty and depraved things heâd say as his cock slid into your pussy, stretching you out just the way you needed.
You knew, without even touching yourself, that neither your fingers nor your toys would be enough for you that evening. You needed Bucky. Not John Walker, not any of the other guys on your rosterâonly Bucky Barnes could satisfy the need burning through your body.
So you rolled onto your knees and lowered your upper body to your bed, arching your ass high in the air. You positioned your phone and took a photo of your curved ass, barely clad in your panties, with the TV on your dresser also in frame. You took photos until you got one that you liked well enough and sent it to Bucky.
Iâm bored, come chill.
Your text deliberately didnât acknowledge Buckyâs questionâand you werenât asking him to come over, you were demanding it. You refused to beg a guy like Bucky Barnes, who refused to be exclusive with you, to come over and fuck you.Â
But you knew the simple request would drag him away from whatever he was doing on that Saturday evening and get him to your apartment.
So you were surprised when he texted back and didnât immediately say he was on his way.
You sure? If we end up fucking, Iâm not wearing a condom.
The second you finished reading Buckyâs text, you shoved your face into one of your pillows and let out a frustrated groan. Of course Bucky hadnât forgotten you were in the process of switching to a new birth control and youâd told him that if he was going to fuck you, heâd have to wear a condom.
Heâd taken it better than you expectedâespecially for a guy who claimed sex with you âdidnât feel as goodâ when he wore a condom. He hadnât thrown a tantrum or tried to talk you into fucking bare while it was unsafe. Heâd seemed happy enough with handjobs and blowjobs, and had always reciprocated by getting you off with his fingers or mouth.
But you could tell from his text that he was reaching his limit and, truthfully, so were you.Â
You missed the feeling of Buckyâs bare cock sliding into you, the heat of his stiff length and the drag of his veins against your sensitive inner walls. You were desperate to feel his cum flooding your cunt, filling you up with his seed while his balls twitched against your ass or clit, and he groaned low and deep in your ear.Â
Bucky was the only man on your roster allowed to fuck you bare, and it was entirely contingent on him swearing on his motherâs grave that you were the only girl he fucked without a condom. As far as you knew, Bucky had kept his promiseâwhich you knew because you made him get tested at the local clinic at least once a month.Â
Still, you were only four weeks in to the 4-6 week period where your doctor had told you to use secondary methods of birth control while you were switching prescriptions. And you were so horny that you were probably ovulatingâbut you wanted Bucky so bad you could barely think.Â
In fact, the thought of letting Bucky cum inside you when it wasnât a safe time of the month, and was extra not safe because you were switching your birth control, turned you on so much, your whole body shivered with need. Something about the idea, how risky it was, how it might mean Bucky would knock you up, was too good to be ignored.Â
You were so horny, you were seconds away from shoving a pillow between your thighs simply so youâd have something to hump against. That probably shouldâve been a sign that you werenât thinking clearly, but instead, it had you making up your mind.
You decided having Bucky overâhaving him fuck you rawâwas worth the risk. In a brief moment of clarity, you reasoned with yourself that there was always the morning after pill. That was good enough for you.
So you texted him back.
Iâm sure.
Bucky showed up to your apartment so soon after you texted him that you were sure that he either broke a number of traffic laws driving over from wherever heâd been, or heâd already been on his way. You loved both ideas, and didnât want him to give you another reason, so you opted not to ask.
But for how fast heâd gotten to your place, he seemed content to take his time getting to the main event. When you opened the door, youâd been expecting (or, rather, hoping) heâd pounce on you. Instead, he pulled you into his arms and gave you a brief, chaste kiss, asking how your week was and how youâd been since he last saw you.
Then, as you entertained his desire for small talk, Bucky made himself comfortable, stretching out on your bed after kicking off his shoes and beckoning you to curl up with him. You did so, a little warily, and even put on a show youâd seen a million times since you figured Bucky would distract you from it soon enough.Â
But he didnât.Â
You lasted all of five minutes before you were lifting your head from Buckyâs chest to look at him, surprised to find the guy youâd texted to come over and fuck you was seemingly engrossed in your show. You whined his name in a pitiful voice, âBucky.âÂ
The arrogant smirk youâd pictured when heâd texted you earlier spread across his face and he squeezed you tighter in his hard, muscled arms.Â
âShhh, baby, watch your show,â he rumbled, rolling you onto your back so he was curled around your side, throwing a leg over yours and burying his scruffy face in your neck. âIâm just here to chill, right?â There was a teasing note in his voice that had you huffing out a frustrated sound.
âBuckyâŚâ you grumbled, even as you shifted your head on your pillows to give him easier access to your neck. He rewarded you by kissing your soft skin, sending a tendril of heat curling down your spine and settling heavily between your thighs. âYou know this isnât what I meant when I told you to come over.âÂ
Bucky lifted himself up onto his forearm, hovering above you so he could stare down into your eyes. His arrogant smirk had slipped off his face, leaving a serious expression as he took in the pinched, frustrated look on yours. He seemed to come to some kind of decision as he stared at you.
âItâs not a safe time for you, right, baby?â he asked, each word said slowly, intentionally, another meaning laced within. âYou donât want me to tell you that Iâm horny as fuck and the only thing I want is to bury my bare cock in you and cum in your unprotected pussyâyou donât want me to try to talk you into it, to coerce you, right, baby?â
At his filthy words, your heart thundered in your chest and your pulse thrummed between your thighs, and for a brief, blistering moment, you considered throwing a whole entire hissy fit because thatâs not what you wanted. You wanted the opposite of what Bucky was sayingâand then the deeper meaning in his words hit you.Â
Bucky wasnât really asking if you wanted him to be nice and respectful of the boundaries youâd set, even though youâd already essentially given him permission to ignore them. He was asking if you wanted to play along with the idea that you were reluctant to let him fuck you without a condom while you were at risk of getting knocked up.
âThatâs not what you want, is it, baby?â Bucky rumbled, his gaze holding yours as he nodded his head slowly, the gesture so at odds with his words, it could only mean he was asking you the opposite of what he said.
Youâd been eager for Bucky to fuck youâyou were so horny, it was the only thing you could think aboutâbut the opportunity of playing this game with him was too enticing to pass up. Pretending to be reluctant, pretending to slowly give in to Buckyâs whims when it was what you both really wanted, would only make the sex that much hotter.Â
An excited smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, and you saw Buckyâs gaze drop to your lips, his own face flickering with elation as he took in your reaction. You waited until his eyes returned to yours before you answered him.
âNoooo, thatâs definitely not what I want, daddy,â you whimpered huskily, the barest hint of sarcasm in your tone as you struggled to stop from smirking. Your head was nodding just as Buckyâs had, and he was the first to break, an eager grin spreading across his face.Â
He ducked down and brushed another frustratingly brief kiss to your lips. âYou got it, baby, no fucking tonightâjust chilling,â he murmured, a teasing tone in his voice that had your body tingling with anticipation.
You were less surprised that time when Bucky snuggled back down on top of you, his mouth going back to your neck where he was working on sucking a hickey into the side of your throat.
Since you knew the game you were playing, it was a little easier to settle in and watch your show, all the while trying to forget the way your pussy was pulsing with need. Still, you wouldnât have said it was easy to ignore the steady twitching of Buckyâs cock against your thigh as he hardened in his sweatpants.
It only got more difficult to keep your attention on your show when Buckyâs hand slid under your shirt, his fingers trailing idly over your stomach until he eventually reached your tits. He began kneading your soft flesh lazily, his fingers plucking teasingly at your nipples, while his mouth sucked on your neck.Â
Despite how obvious it was that Bucky was taking his time, it wasnât long before you were a wet, whimpering mess beneath him.
âBucky, w-we shouldnât fool around,â you murmured breathily, mouth tripping over the words as you voiced the exact opposite of what you wanted. It was like your lips didnât want to play the game youâd started, but you were rewarded for their effort by his frustrated growl, which had you throbbing between your thighs.
âItâs fine, baby, weâre not doing anything we shouldnâtâŚâ he rumbled against your neck, his teeth nipping at your sensitive skin and making you shiver.Â
The word âyetâ hung unspoken in what little space there was between your bodies, and the promise of it had you warming even more, pressing your thighs together against the ache pulsing in your core. âBucky,â you whimpered his name, your hips twisting toward him like they had a mind of their own.
âAre ya getting wet, baby?â he asked teasingly in your ear, his fingers tripping down your body until they skimmed along the hem of your panties. All you could do was whine in response and Bucky chuckled. âYeah, I bet youâre dripping for me.â
Your chest was already heaving with heavier breaths just from the way Bucky was teasing his fingers beneath the edge of your panties, taking his sweet time going any lower to where you really needed him. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, and your intention had been to shove his hand deeper into your panties so heâd finally touch your pussy, but instead he stopped.
âDonât worry, baby, âm not gonna fuck you, no matter how wet your pretty little pussy is,â Bucky murmured in your ear, brushing a kiss to your cheek.Â
Though his words mightâve sounded reassuring, his tone was a deliciously teasing rumble and you could feel his smirk against your cheek. Your body trembled, your thighs parting for Bucky of their own accord, which had him humming a pleased sound.Â
âGood girl, just let me feel you.â
Buckyâs fingers finally dipped into your panties and slid down to your pussy, a breathy little moan bursting from your lips. The feel of his warm, skilled fingers slipping through your soaking wet folds, bumping against your clit before swirling around your aching, clenching hole, was almost too much.Â
You had to bite your lip against the urge to beg Bucky to fuck you already, not wanting to ruin the game that was making everything hotter. But he seemed to lose himself for a moment, burying his face in your neck and groaning while his fingers slipped between your swollen and soppy lower lips.
âFucking hell, baby, youâre drenched for me,â Bucky growled, his voice low and no longer teasing. His fingers were dipping shallowly into your hole and spreading your wetness around, making a mess of your pussy. âYou feel so fucking ripe, I gotta feel itâgotta feel you against my cock.â
Bucky was already pushing your panties down your thighs, rising above you and tearing his shirt off over his head before tugging your own shirt from your body.Â
At the same time, you were kicking your panties from around your ankles and spreading your legs, sitting up shove at the waistband of Buckyâs sweatpants. When his cock bounced free, you reached for his perfect length, saliva already pooling in your mouth as you gave his girth a reverent stroke.
But then Bucky was urging you back down, guiding your shoulders to the bed and covering your body with his own. You arched up into his warmth while he settled between your thighs, your fingers clinging to his sides.
His darkened eyes were fixed on the juncture of your legs, his fingers going back to playing through your wetness and spreading it around to make a mess of your pussy. Occasionally, heâd bump against your clit, which made your body jolt every time he brushed the needy bundle of nerves.Â
Bucky felt so good, and you were so close to getting what you really wantedâhis cock inside youâbut you forced yourself to remember the game you were playing.
You grabbed Buckyâs face in both hands, tipping it up so you could catch his eye. There was an almost dazed look on his face, but he blinked and focused back on you.
âIt isnât a safe time of the month,â you said, as sternly as you could manage. But your breaths were coming too quickly for there to be much steel in your voice. Buckyâs thumb brushed over your clit purposefully and your hips bore down on his hand, your body begging for more as you whined, âYou canât fuck me bare, Bucky.âÂ
âI wonât, baby,â Bucky purred, wrapping the fingers that were sticky with your desire around the hard length of his cock. He chuckled when you whimpered at the loss of his touch, leaning down over you and brushing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. âJust let me rub against youâyouâre so wet, itâll feel so good. I wonât push inside your drippy little pussy, baby, I promise.â
You knew he was lying, and you knew Bucky knew you knew he was lying. For some reason, that made everything so much hotter. So did playing the reluctant participant, which was why you bit your lip with fake nervousness as you stared up at Bucky, your panting breaths adding even more uncertainty to your voice when you spoke.
âOh-okay, daddy, you can rub against meâbut no more.âÂ
The words were barely out of your mouth before Bucky was sliding his thick, hard cock between your pussy lips, making you moan and spread your legs wider, raising your knees toward your chest to give him all the access he needed.Â
Bucky let out a groan and dropped down to cover you with his body, his arms digging beneath your back to hold you pinned tightly against his chest. Your sensitive nipples rubbed against him, teasing you relentlessly.
âFuck, you feel so fucking good,â Bucky rumbled, rocking his hips so his cock dragged between your swollen, dripping folds, rubbing against your clit and sending sparks of pleasure swirling through your body. âSo wet⌠Youâre making a fucking mess on my cock, baby.â
âOh god,â you whimpered in Buckyâs ear, your body shuddering under the onslaught of blistering pleasure and aching emptiness in your core.Â
You wrapped your arms around Buckyâs shoulders, hands digging into his soft brown hair and holding onto him while his hips kept rocking into the cradle of your body, his cock grinding against your clit until you were gushing with wetness all over his stiff length.
âDoesnât it feel good, baby?â Bucky murmured in your ear, his voice sweetly entreating, like he was trying to convince you of something, though you were already very well aware that his hard shaft grinding into your dripping wet pussy felt better than it had any right. âYouâre creaming all over daddyâs cock, babyâtell me how good it feels.â
âNngh, so goooood,â you keened, hooking your ankles around the backs of Buckyâs thighs to get better leverage to grind against his hard length. You were caught between wanting more and wanting to keep grinding against him. âYour cock feels sooo good, daddy, so big and hard against my drippy pussy.â
âFuck, âm so hard for you,â Bucky groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he rutted into your soft, drenched folds with rough, punishing thrusts. âMy dickâs throbbing for your cunt, baby, can you feel it?â
He pressed his shaft deep into your slit, the flared head of his cock bullying your clit, and you could feel it. You could feel the pulse in his hard length, joining the rhythm in your center.Â
Your body reacted on instinct, your inner walls clenching hard around nothing while you whined his name, âBuckyyy.â
âI can feel you, baby,â Bucky rumbled, the teasing tone back in his voice. âI can feel your cunt mouthing at my cock.âÂ
Buckyâs words sounded so deliciously depraved that you wanted to turn your head and kiss him, to taste his debauchery straight from his tongue. You knew he had a filthy mouth, but his dirty talk was even hotter because of the game you were playingâand he just kept talking.Â
âFeels like ya want me to fuck you, baby,â he cooed, lifting his head to speak directly in your ear. âDoes your pretty little cunt wanna get fucked?â
It was on the tip of your tongue to scream, âYes!â You wanted to get fucked so bad. You practically desperate for Bucky to push inside you and impale you on his cock, to pump into your pussy bare and cum inside you. You managed to bite it back at the last second for the sake of the role you were playing, but you couldnât get any other words out.
When you were quiet, save for your panting breaths while Buckyâs hips kept up their torturous rocking, he lifted himself, bracing on his forearms so he could hover above you and see your face. He raised an eyebrow in question, his body slowing its movement as his gaze raked over your face, uncertainty flickering in the depths of his blue eyes.
It was clear he was questioning whether you still wanted to play the game youâd both started, and the fact that he was taking the time to check in with you had your heart squeezing uncomfortably in your chest.Â
It was an annoying reminder that Bucky wasnât the kind of man to be selfish and self-absorbed in bed. Even if he was only your situationship, he made sure you were enjoying everything he was doing.Â
And you wanted him to know you were enjoying yourself very muchâand that you still wanted to play the role youâd been given.
âI want you so bad, Bucky.â The words tumbled from your lips as you gave in to the urge to assuage Buckyâs concern. âI want you so bad, but we shouldnât,â you whined, pouting up at him as you slipped back into the game.Â
The furrow of concern smoothed itself from Buckyâs brow and he smirked before ducking down to capture your lips in a quick kiss.Â
His hips began rocking into you again, and he swallowed your responding moan greedily. He groaned himself when you used your ankles hooked around his thighs to grind back against him, your soft, wet pussy sliding against the rough ridge of his cock and making a mess of both of you.
âWhat if IâŚwhat if I just push the tip in?â Bucky rasped, pulling away and catching your eye, a smirk fluttered at the edges of his mouth, like he was trying to hold it back but was failing. âJust the tipâjust let me feel you. Please, baby, I wanna feel you so fucking bad.âÂ
Bucky bowed his head, pressing sweet kisses to your collarbones, a barely restrained chuckle rumbling his chest. It seemed heâd lost the battle with being able to keep a straight face and you couldnât blame him, your mouth was spread in a mischievous grin while your nails raked through his short brown hair.
âItâs not safe,â you reminded him, but there was an edge of glee in your tone.Â
You couldnât hide the fact that you were having fun with Bucky, playing out the little game heâd started. You were so close to getting what you wanted, that it only made it more difficult to pretend you didnât want it.Â
So when you murmured, âIf you cum inside me, BuckyâŚâ your voice was breathless with desire, and you had to cut yourself off to bite back the moan that wanted to be set free.Â
Bucky smirked against your neck, his teeth nipping playfully at the mark heâd left on your throat before he responded. âItâs just the tip, baby, promiseâI wonât cum inside you.â
Had it always been so easy for you to hear when Bucky was lying, or had he given up on the pretense of the game so much that it was even more obvious?Â
The question flitted across your mind but didnât stay long. You were too busy gasping a quick, âOk,â your hips tilting, trying to catch the tip of Buckyâs cock in your hole on one of his grinding thrusts. However, it wasnât until he pulled his hips back that the head of his hard length notched at your tight, clenching pussy.
Both of you held your breath when Bucky pushed inside. He stopped when just the tip was nestled inside the entrance of your warm, wet cunt.Â
âFuuuck,â Bucky groaned, pressing his face into the side of your neck, his hot breath fanning over the hollow of your throat and his scruff rasping against your sensitive skin. âYouâre so fucking warm, baby,â he rumbled into your neck, the sensation of his mouth against your throat making you shiver all over. âGotta do it again.â
His muttered words were your only warning before his hips reared back, the broad tip of his cock pulling free from your grasping hole. A tortured whimper slipped from your mouth before you could stop it, and Bucky chuckled as he slid back inside you, your pitiful sound dissolving into a moan when the head of his cock popped into your cunt.
âYeah, that feels good, doesnât it?â Bucky crooned in your ear, doing it again, slower that time, making you feel every tiny bit of his tip pushing into your weeping hole. âMy cock sliding into your drippy little cuntâyouâre so fucking wet for me, arenât you, baby?â
âYes, Bucky, so wet for you,â you echoed, unable to do more when all your focus was on not impaling yourself on Buckyâs cock. Your body squirmed beneath his larger form, one of Buckyâs big hands pressing down on your hip like he knew you were barely holding back from pushing yourself down on his cock.
âIt would be so easy for me to slide all the way inside, donât ya think, baby?â Bucky purred in a teasing tone, his hips rocking forward until heâd pushed another inch deeper before pulling back so only the tip was inside you again.
Just that little tease had you moaning mindlessly beneath Bucky, tears of desire and frustration springing to your eyes.Â
Your arms wrapped tightly around Buckyâs shoulders and your legs hooked around the backs of his thighs, trying to pull him in deeper. You needed more, to hell with the game youâd been playing. You needed him inside you already.Â
âBucky, please,â you begged on a sob, pressing your face into his cheek.
âI can feel your cunt gripping me, baby, sucking on meâshe wants me to push deeper,â Bucky rumbled in your ear, a gruffness to his voice that told you he was reaching the limit of his patience with the game as well.Â
In that moment, youâd have done anything to get Bucky to fuck you properly, but before you could speak, he went on.Â
âDo you want it, baby?â he asked, his voice rough as crushed rock, his own breaths hot and heavy against your skin. âWant my cock buried deep inside you, filling you up and fucking you hard?â
âYes, Bucky, please,â you gasped, your hands diving into his hair and pulling his head up so you could look him in the eye. You had to blink the tears from your eyes to do it, but you didnât want there to be any confusion about what you wanted. âFuck me, daddy, please!â
A slow, depraved grin spread across Buckyâs face as his eyes roved over your tear-stained cheeks. You felt the tip of his cock twitch inside you, and your body gave an answering clench, like it was begging him to slide inside. But Bucky seemed happy to let his eyes wander over your face, relishing the sight of you crying and begging him to fuck you.Â
It felt like a small eternity before his gaze met yours again and he seemed ready to give you what you wanted.Â
âBut donât cum inside you, right, baby?â Bucky asked, a devious tone in his voice. His hips pulled back and thrust forward slowly, pushing his big cock inside you at a torturous pace. Buckyâs grin was teasing as he went on, murmuring, âWouldnât want daddy knocking you up, right, baby?âÂ
At Buckyâs words, something inside you snapped. Your mind went blank and your body moved on its own, your legs hiking up Buckyâs sides to wrap tightly around his lower back. Your heels dug into his firm ass and you whined loudly until he let you pull him deeper inside you.
Buckyâs cock impaled you with one thrust, a pleasured grunt slipping from his mouth, half-muffled against your neck. He filled you up all the way to the root of his thick cock and you moaned, long and loud in his ear.Â
You finally got what you wanted. Finally, you were full of his cock.
Bucky was buried so deep inside you that you could feel his balls pressed against your assâhis big, heavy balls, full of the seed you desperately wanted him to pump inside you. The desire left you dizzy and dazed, your body thrumming with a need to be filled, to be knocked up, to be bred by your situationship.
âBreed me, Bucky,â you whispered breathlessly in his ear.Â
He stilled for a very brief second, but then he was groaning obscenely, sucking hard on the hickey heâd already left. Whether it was a reward or a punishment, you didnât knowânor did you care.
âOh fuck,â Bucky grunted, his legs shifting on your bed and repositioning himself to fight against the stranglehold you had on his body.Â
He pushed up onto his forearms so he could hover above you, his eyes raking over your face as he rolled his hips to fuck you in hard, shallow thrusts that had your lips parting, punched-out whines slipping from your mouth.Â
You were so consumed in basking in your pleasure that it took you a moment to realize Bucky had gone quietâquieter than he normally was when he was fucking you. It took another moment for you to blink your vision back into focus and when you did, you sucked in a sharp breath at the look of pure, depraved desire on Buckyâs face.Â
âDo you have something you want to tell me, baby?â he asked dryly, lifting an eyebrow in question. Before you could answer, he ducked down and captured your lips in a searing kiss, the heat of his tongue flicking into your mouth making you moan. âDoes my girl have a breeding kink she failed to tell me about?â he asked in a teasing tone, plunging his cock deep into your pussy and grinding hard against a spot inside you that had you seeing stars.
âNot your girl,â you managed to gasp, even through the pleasure.Â
A low growl rumbled in Buckyâs chest, but it cut off abruptly. It seemed your situationship didnât like being reminded that he wasnât the only one who fucked you. Bucky nipped at your bottom lip, biting it a little harshly, making your pussy clench around his cock as you whined through the brief sting. Â
âDoes John fucking Walker know about your breeding kink?â Bucky seethed, his voice suddenly furious. His anger was reflected in the way he picked up the pace of his hips, fucking you in rough, hard thrusts that had you crying out and clinging to his shoulders, your nails sinking deep into his golden skin. âDo you let John fucking Walker fuck you rawâfucking tell me, baby.â
âNo,â you cried, tears of pleasure slipping from your eyes and trailing down your temples into your hair. Buckyâs lips found the salty tears and he kissed them from your skin, making your heart and pussy clench simultaneously. âYouâre the only one allowed to fuck me bare, Bucky, you know that.âÂ
âThatâs fucking right,â he growled, punctuating each of his words with brutal thrusts. âIâm the only man who fucks this pussy raw,â he went on in a gruff, furious voice, raising up onto his arms so he could look you in the eye. âIâm the only man who cums inside this cunt, who fills you up until youâre leaking my seed all down your pretty thighsâIâm the only man who breeds you, isnât that right, baby?â
âYesâyes, Bucky, only you,â you cried, squirming beneath him, using your ankles hooked around his thighs to meet Buckyâs thrusts. It didnât even occur to you to fight him on his possessive questionsâhe was right. He was the only one allowed to do all those things. âOnly you, only youâplease, I need you to breed me Bucky!â
You were getting close, but before you could tumble over the edge of your release, Bucky sat up, breaking the hold of your arms as he pushed up onto his knees. You let out a frustrated wail, but stopped short at the expression on Buckyâs face.
The look in his eye was wild, nearly feral. His hands were rough and possessive when he grabbed your plush thighs, pushing them up toward your chest until you were folded in half. His cock was still inside you, but not nearly as deep as you wanted it in the position Bucky was in.Â
Your hips squirmed, a whine working its way up your throat before spilling free.
Bucky leaned back down on top of you, pinning your legs to your chest and your body to the bed as his cock slid deeper until you were so full of him, you swore you could feel him in wombâeven though you knew that was impossible.Â
He stayed like that, buried inside you, his cock stretching out your tight cunt while he rocked his hips, grinding deeper into you. All the while, he stared at you, his gaze glittering with the wildness that spoke of a deep-rooted possessiveness, but when he spoke, his voice was deceptively sweet.
âYou want daddy to breed you, baby?â Bucky cooed in your ear, his mouth pressing wet, messy kisses to your cheek and jaw. âYou knew it wasnât a safe time of the month, and you let me fuck you raw anywayâsuch a silly little cumslut pretending you didnât want it, but you do, right, baby?â
All you could manage was a punched-out, âUh huh,â Buckyâs heavy weight pressing the air from your lungs while he crushed you to the bed. He shifted a little, so you could breathe, but it didnât seem to matter that youâd responded, because he went on as if he hadnât even heard you.
âYou wanna feel my fat cock bruising your cervix, baby?â he huffed, pausing only to nip at the lobe of your ear with his teeth, making you clench hard around his cock. His next words came out on a filthy groan, pouring into your ear and settling deep in your mind. âYa want me to flood your fertile little cunt with my seed and breed youâis that it?âÂ
You were half feral yourself with desire, with your need to cumâwith your need to feel him cum inside youâand you werenât sure if Bucky was checking in with you, or if he was getting off on teasing you, but you rushed to answer, telling him the truth.
âGod, Bucky, yesâplease,â you whined, your fingers digging into his soft hair and towing his head until your mouth found his, kissing him messily while he kept fucking you in hard, rough thrusts. âFill me up with your cum, daddy, make me your pretty little cumdump, please, I want itâI need it!â you cried into Buckyâs mouth, your words half muffled because neither of you wanted to pull away.Â
âJesus fucking christ, baby,â Bucky grunted, his hot breath panting past your lips. You felt his mouth curve into a sly smirk. âFirst you donât want me to fuck you because it isnât safe,â he murmured in a teasing tone. âAnd now you want me to breed your little pussy full of cumâwhich is it, baby, dâyou want me to pull out or cum inside your unprotected cunt?â
A mindless moan slipped from your lips at his filthy question, your mind going entirely blank for a split second. All you could do was feelâBuckyâs thick cock pounding into your pussy, the tip hitting a spot inside you that felt so good, you never wanted him to stop. It was too good, you didnât want him to pull out, even if it wouldâve been the smart decision.
âBreed me, daddy,â you begged in a throaty, desperate voice. âBreed me, cum inside meâplease, please, please!â
âFuck,â Bucky cursed, but he sounded pleased, too. âIâm so fucking close, baby, so close to draining my balls in your tight little cunt.âÂ
His body shifted and then he was pounding into you in a new, better angle, making you feel impossibly good as you careened toward the edge of your release.Â
âTell me, baby,â he rasped, his forehead pressed to yours. âTell me you never let John fucking Walker cum inside youâtell me Iâm the only man allowed to breed you.â
You whined, well aware youâd already told himâand he already knew he was the only one allowed to cum inside you. But it fed the possessiveness Bucky felt, and it felt good to give him that, so you did.Â
âYouâre the only one,â you promised in a thready voice, your pleasure dripping from every word. âThe only man allowed to cum inside meâyouâre the only man allowed to breed me, daddy!â
Bucky captured your mouth in a dominating kiss, his tongue plunging past your lips like he was desperate to fuck as many of your holes at the same time as possible. You moaned into his mouth, gripping his face and holding him close while you sucked on his tongue, your nails raking through the scruff on his jaw, both of you groaning at how good the other felt.
Finally, Bucky managed to wrench himself away from your clinging grip and his face hovered above yours, a devious smirk on his plump lips.
âYa know I heard,â he started, his voice a little breathless and gruff, the deep sound of it singing through your body and making you shiver as your pussy pulsed around his thrusting cock. âIf you cum at the same time as me, youâre more likely to get knocked up.âÂ
A violent shiver raced down your spine and your pussy clenched hard around Buckyâs cock. His words were going to be the end of you, you just knew it, but what a glorious end it would be.
Bucky grinned at your bodyâs reaction, looking far too pleased with himself, though you were too far gone in your pleasure to try to wipe that smirk off his face. Not that he gave you much opportunity, ducking down to murmur in your ear.
âRub your clit, baby, I wanna feel you cumming on my cock while Iâm knocking you up.â
âOh my god, Bucky,â you whimpered pleasure spiraling through you at his words, but you did as he said.Â
You slipped your hand between your bodies, finding your clit messy and sticky with your desire, your fingertips brushing the thick shaft of Buckyâs cock as he fucked you. Rubbing your clit in ruthless little circles, your body pulled tight.
âBucky, Iâm gonna cumâdonât stop!â
Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream as the coiled tension in your body finally shattered, and you came with a strangled cry, pleasure consuming your mind and body.Â
Your release washed over you in waves of bliss that were so intense, you could feel your arms and legs trembling, your cunt clenching hard around Buckyâs thick length that was still plunging deep into your grasping channel.
âThatâs it, baby, cum on daddyâs cock,â Bucky rasped, brushing sloppy kisses to your face as he rutted into you, his thrusts turning wild and rough. âYou feel so fucking good, baby, youâre doing so good for me, gonna make me a daddy for real, babyâJesus fuck.âÂ
Bucky cut himself off on a groan, his hips pressing flush to the backs of your thighs, his cock impaled to the hilt in your still fluttering cunt. He came with a loud moan, his cock twitching inside you as he shot rope after rope of cum into your pussy. Your inner walls milked every last drop of seed from his balls while he painted the inside of you white.
When Bucky was finally spent, he collapsed on top of you, your bodies easing into a more comfortable position. He lay on top of you in the cradle of your thighs, his palms smoothing over your hips and sides while your fingers stroked idly through his soft hair. You made small sounds of contentment, and an answering, pleased rumble, sounded in his chest.Â
Finally, just when it was beginning to get uncomfortable bearing so much of Buckyâs weight, he heaved himself up onto his knees and carefully slid his cock from your thoroughly used pussy. You watched him, his gaze focused on the slit between your thighs, and you saw the moment his blue eyes darkened when his cum started dripping out of you.
You reached between you thighs, which were splayed over his his spread knees, to clean up the cum before it made a mess of your bedsheets, but Bucky knocked your hand away. He fished through the mussed up bedding until he found his discarded sweatpants and pulled his phone from the pocket.Â
Your body was limp with sated pleasure, and heâd taken enough post-sex photos of you, that you let Bucky arrange you how he wanted. You even held your legs open for him so he could position his phone above your pussy and take a couple close-up photos of his cum spilling out of your pussy. Then he pulled his phone back, so your whole body was in the shot.
âSay, âIâm gonna be a mommy,â baby,â Bucky ordered, a lazy grin on his face.
Between your thighs, your pussy pulsed at the words, which sounded so innocent and so filthy at the same time. Heat filled your cheeks and you turned your head to the side, trying to bury your face in a pillow while you whined, âBucky.âÂ
You knew it was silly to be shy about saying something so innocuous, especially after everything you and Bucky had just said and done, but the moment was over. You didnât normally have such a breeding kink, but youâd been so horny and it had made you so hot to talk about getting bred while Bucky was inside you.Â
However, it felt like a whole other thing to play into it when the heat of the moment had passed. It felt like the kind of thing boyfriends and girlfriends did, and you knew better than to tread into that territory.Â
Still, your body warmed at the idea of looking into Buckyâs camera and saying those wordsâŚ
âBaby,â Bucky crooned, leaning over you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. âCâmon, I know you wanna,â he murmured in your ear, his mouth brushing butterfly kisses along your jaw. âYou donât have to be shy with me, baby, I know youâre a dirty little breeding slut desperate to be daddyâs good little cumdump.â
âJesus Christ, Bucky,â you groaned, but you were smiling when you turned your head and met his mouth for a kiss.Â
Bucky let you kiss him for a few moments before he pulled away and sat up, holding his camera in position while he raised his eyebrows at you in an expectant expression.
âIâm gonna be a mommy,â you mumbled, pouting up at the camera while Bucky snapped a few photos. It wasnât long before you were smiling and preening for the camera, sticking your tits out and holding your legs even wider for Bucky.
âGood girl,â he murmured, catching your eye as he lowered his phone. He was giving you a pleased smirk, and you smiled up at him in return.
Bucky gently moved your legs from around his waist and flopped down on the bed beside you, swiping through the photos heâd taken of his cum leaking out of your pussy while you curled around his bicep. You had to admit, they looked hotâeven the ones of you pouting and mumbling up at him.
Seeing yourself like that was turning you on and you were just about to shimmy down Buckyâs body and lick his cock clean until he was hard again when he spoke, derailing your dirty thoughts.
âIâll pick up the morning after pill for you before I head home,â he rumbled absentmindedly, still focused more on his phone. You could see him favoriting some of the photos heâd taken and saving them to a separate folder. âAnd if you are knocked up, Iâll pay to have it taken care ofâbut donât expect me to cuddle you and do boyfriend shit after.â
For a moment, you restrained the urge to smack Bucky in the face with a pillow. And then you thought, why not? You werenât his girlfriend, you didnât need to play nice.Â
So you grabbed the pillow behind your head and brought it down right on Buckyâs face. He let out a satisfying, startled âoomphâ sound, and you chuckled as you rolled out of bed.Â
âGee, thanks,â you shot over your shoulder sarcastically as you padded toward the bathroom, intent on cleaning Buckyâs cum from between your thighs.Â
But then you had an evil thought and a wicked smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. You wiped that look off your face, though, as you turned and leaned against your doorway, striking a casual pose.
âMaybe if Iâm knocked up, Iâll just let John fuck me bare and tell him itâs his,â you said, giving a carefree little shrug while trying not to make it obvious how close you were watching Bucky.
You were delighted when his head snapped toward you, his gaze finally pulling away from his phone as his brows lowered into a glare. His soft mouth turned down at the corners, a furious frown darkening his face.
âDâyou think John would offer to marry me?â you asked, ignoring Buckyâs reaction and tapping your chin with one finger like you were thinking. âHe strikes me as the type of man whoâd want to make an âhonest womanâ out of me.â You couldnât hold in your eye roll, even as you were trying to torture Bucky with the possibility of you marrying John fucking Walker.
In an instant, Bucky was up and off the bed, pinning you to the doorframe of your room with every inch of his big, strong body pressed against yours. You only had time to gasp while Bucky quickly gathered your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head. His hardening cock was trapped against your belly, the stickiness of both your releases rubbing into your skin.
âYouâre not marrying John fucking Walker, baby,â Bucky growled while he loomed over you. He was so close, you had to tilt your head back to look up at him, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smirking. âAnd youâre certainly not raising my kid with Walkerâs last name.âÂ
At that, you had to laugh. But when you saw how serious Bucky still looked, you realized he didnât realize you were just trying to get a rise out of him. Something about the thought of you marrying John Walker had clearly made all rational thought completely abandon Bucky in that moment.Â
Instead of thinking too hard about Buckyâs reaction, you explained yourself to him.
âBucky, it was a joke,â you wheezed, giving him an incredulous look. âOf course Iâm not gonna marry John.â
Buckyâs eyes flitted back and forth between yours, like he was checking to make sure you were being honest. He mustâve decided you were because he blew out a breath and closed his eyes, his forehead falling to yours.Â
âJesus, baby, you drive me fucking wild sometimes,â he rumbled, but there was humor in his tone, albeit reluctant.
A breathless laugh slipped from your lips and you leaned back against the doorframe, hiking your leg up around Buckyâs waist. He caught it in his free hand, the movement pressing his thickening cock between your thighs, making both of you groan.
âI think you should show me exactly how wild I make you,â you purred, rocking your hips against his stiff length, coating him in the mixture of your desire and his cum still leaking out of you.Â
Bucky growled, his eyes flying open as he stared at you and worked his cock against your pussy.Â
âCareful what you ask for, baby,â he rumbled, his tone a delicious taunt that had your toes curling against the floorboards and your hips tilting so you could rub your clit against his hard shaft. âOr youâre gonna get another load pumped into your tight, unprotected little cunt.â
âDonât threaten me with a good time, daddy,â you sassed, smirking up at Bucky and watching as his eyes darkened with desire.
In a flash, Bucky dropped your leg and let go of your wrists, spinning you around to face the doorframe and yanking your hips toward his lap with a rough, possessive grip on your body. Your upper body fell forward and your hands clung to the doorframe, nails digging into the wood when Bucky entered you in a swift, hard thrust.
Bucky fucked you in the doorway of your bedroom, making you promise yet again that youâd never let John Walker fuck you without a condom before emptying a second load inside you.
After, he followed you to the bathroom, hopping in the shower with you where he drained what little cum was left in his balls inside your pussy before helping you clean upâthough you suspected he only offered to help so he could finger his cum deeper into your cunt under the pretense of cleaning you.
When you were both finally, finally sated, you collapsed into your bed together. Your mind was blissfully blank and your body deliciously sore as you cuddled together. Bucky dozed for a bit, his head on your chest while you carded your fingers through his hair and watched your show.
After a while, Bucky roused and got dressed, going out to get you the morning after pill from the nearest drug store, just like heâd said he would.Â
He also brought you back your favorite sports drink and snacks, explaining in a gruff voice that heâd read the potential side effects of the pill on the box and wanted you to be prepared. You refused to feel any type of way about that.
Then Bucky kissed you and left to head home.
All things considered, it was a good thing your new birth control had taken effect, or the morning after pill had worked, and you didnât get pregnant despite the evening youâd had with Bucky. It was a relief when you were able to tell him that your risky night hadnât led to any of the consequences the both of you had willfully ignored.
When you texted him to tell him youâd gotten your period, he responded quickly, messaging twice in quick succession. The first text made you roll your eyes, because you thought that was all heâd have to say.Â
Good.
But then you saw the second message, and you could imagine the arrogant smirk on Bucky Barnesâ ridiculously handsome face and the playful glint of mischief in his eye when heâd sent it.
It made you smile, and you had to bite your lip against a giggle, forcefully reminding yourself that he was just a situationship.
Let me know when you wanna play âjust the tipâ to âbreed me, daddyâ again, baby.
you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic#toxic bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#sebastian stan fanfiction#sebastian stan#sebastian stan smut#sebastian stan characters#you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series#witchywithwhiskeywork
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Moving In [18+]
ăBeefy!Bucky Barnes x f!readeră
Pairings: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader. Summary: You're moving into your brand new apartment with Bucky. Themes/Warning: FLUFF and then SMUT. Dirty Talk, Oral Sex in shower [M receiving], Breath play, Breeding Kink, Rough Sex, unprotected sex, a bit of Cumplay, pet names [baby, angel], Bucky talking Russian, Bucky watching you undress, Bucky washing your body. A/N: Enjoy. Also I only use goodle translate for the Russian translations so it might not be accurate okay?
Tags: @hzdhrtss @classicrebound @winterslove1917
Youâre standing outside your new apartment, staring at the couch wedged halfway through the doorframe. Bucky is on the other side, trying not to scowl too hard, but itâs obvious heâs moments away from snapping.
âRemind me again⌠why this couch?â he grumbles, giving the couch another push, his biceps straining against his shirt. You canât help but admire how ridiculous he looksâlike an action hero struggling against a villain that wonât budge.
âItâs cute!â you call from the doorway, trying to sound casual.
âItâs a tank,â he mutters, adjusting his grip. âItâs like you went into the store and said, âShow me the one that can take out a wall.ââ
You stifle a giggle and shrug. âHey, itâs got character. You love character, right?â
Bucky raises an eyebrow at you, glancing between the couch and you. âCharacter? Babe, this couch has more attitude than I do.â
You smirk and cross your arms. âMmm I think itâs 50/50.â
He doesnât even dignify that with a response, pushing the couch again with a grunt. After what feels like an eternity, he manages to wedge it through the door and into the living room. He flops onto it, completely spent, his chest heaving.
âI swear,â he pants, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, âif we ever move again, Iâm burning this thing.â
âOh, relax,â you say, walking over to flop down next to him, throwing your legs across his lap. âYouâre just cranky because the couch won.â
He gives you an incredulous look. âCranky? Me?â Then, with an exaggerated groan, he places a hand on his chest. âOh no, not at all. I love breaking my back for this thing. Love it.â
You poke his ribs, and he twitches. âDonât be dramatic. I thought you were tough.â
âI am,â he says, sitting up with a mock glare. âBut that couch is no joke.â
You snicker, leaning in to kiss his cheek. âWell, now that the couch is in, we can start painting!â
Buckyâs expression drops like a rock.Â
âPainting?â He points to the walls like they personally offended him. âWhatâs wrong with these walls?â
âTheyâre beige, Bucky. Beige. Who chooses beige?â You hop up, grabbing the paint roller with a bright smile. âCome on! I picked a beautiful sky blue for the feature wall.â
âI miss the couch already,â Bucky grumbles but stands up to help.
Soon enough, youâre both in old clothes, standing in the middle of the room with paint trays and rollers. Bucky, as expected, is focused, serious, and meticulous, carefully applying each stroke to the wall like itâs a mission briefing.
Meanwhile, youâre rolling the paint on a little haphazardly, watching him out of the corner of your eye, trying not to laugh. Heâs so seriousâtoo serious for something like this.
âBucky,â you call out sweetly, taking a step toward him.
âHm?â he grunts, still focused.
âHold still.â
Before he can react, you swipe your paintbrush across his nose, leaving a perfect streak of blue on his face.
He blinks, stunned for a moment, his mouth hanging open. Then he narrows his eyes at you, his voice dangerously calm. âYou didnât.â
âOh, but I did,â you say with a grin, taking a step back.
Bucky doesnât say anything for a second, but the look on his face tells you everythingâyouâve started something. Suddenly, he grabs his roller, slowly dipping it into the paint tray, his gaze locked onto you.
âBuckyââ you start, backing up.
âIâm warning you,â he says, lifting the roller like a weapon. âYouâre not walking out of here clean.â
You squeal, trying to dodge as he lunges at you, but heâs fasterâmuch faster. With one swift move, he swipes the roller across your arm, leaving a giant blue streak on your sleeve. You burst out laughing, and before you know it, both of you are chasing each other around the room, paint flying everywhere.
âTruce!â you yell, holding your hands up, but Bucky only smirks.
âNo way,â he says, catching you around the waist and pulling you close. âYou started this.â
Before you can protest, he swipes his finger across your cheek, leaving another streak of blue paint. You gasp and laugh, wriggling out of his grasp, but not before leaving a handprint on his shirt.
âYouâre ruthless,â you say between giggles, wiping paint off your face.
âSays the woman who wiped paint on my nose,â he fires back, but heâs grinning now, looking much more relaxed than before.
Finally, you both collapse onto the plastic covered couch, your clothes and skin now covered in paint smudges, breathing heavily. Bucky rests his head on the back of the couch, glancing over at you with a soft smile. His nose is still blue, and he hasnât even bothered to wipe it off.
âI canât believe you picked a fight with me,â he says, his tone playful.
âI didnât pick a fight,â you say, smiling. âI picked a paint war.â
He shakes his head, chuckling. âYouâre lucky I love you.â
You lean over, kissing his cheek. âYeah, I am.â
And there you are, sitting together on your way-too-large couch, paint everywhere, and Bucky with a sky-blue nose, looking happier than youâve seen him in a while.
Ă Ă Ă Ă
After what feels like hours of cleaning up paint splatters and arranging your oversized couch (which Bucky still glares at from time to time), you both flop back onto it, utterly spent. The place looks halfway decent nowâpainted walls, the couch finally in its rightful placeâand both of you are starving.
You sit cross-legged on the couch, with takeout boxes from your favorite Chinese restaurant spread out on the coffee table in front of you. Buckyâs already digging into his lo mein like itâs the best meal of his life. You, however, are eyeing your sweet and sour pork, but your gaze keeps flicking over to Buckyâs food.
He catches your glances and raises an eyebrow, fork halfway to his mouth.Â
âWhat?â
You quickly look back at your own box. âNothing.â
He narrows his eyes suspiciously and takes another bite. You make a show of enjoying your food, but out of the corner of your eye, you keep stealing glances at his lo mein.
âSeriously, whatâs going on?â Bucky asks, pausing mid-bite. âYouâre doing that thing again.â
âWhat thing?â you ask innocently, poking your sweet and sour pork with your chopsticks.
âThat thing where you pretend you donât want my food but keep staring at it like itâs the last meal on Earth.â
You bite your lip, stifling a smile, and look at your chicken again. âIâm not staring. Iâm just⌠admiring.â
âAdmiring?â Buckyâs voice is filled with playful disbelief. âYou hate lo mein.â
âI do not!â you protest, but your eyes flick back to his box of food.
Bucky leans back on the couch, a smirk forming on his lips as he watches you. âUh-huh. So, you donât want to swap?â
You freeze, pretending to look offended. âWhy would I want to swap? I love sweet and sour pork. Itâs⌠my favorite.â
âUh-huh,â he repeats, his smirk growing as he scoops another big bite of lo mein into his mouth. âBecause it really looks like youâre enjoying that pork.â
You poke the pork again, this time with a little less enthusiasm. Youâve had sweet and sour pork a million times. Meanwhile, Buckyâs lo mein looks warm and savory, and you swear heâs eating it like itâs better than yours on purpose.
âOkay, fine!â you finally admit, throwing your hands up. âI want your lo mein. Happy?â
Bucky laughs, his deep voice filling the room. âI knew it! Why donât you just order what I order?â
âBecause I like variety,â you say, crossing your arms. âBut your food always looks better than mine.â
He snorts, shaking his head, before pushing his lo mein box toward you. âGo ahead, have at it. I knew this was coming.â
You take the box without hesitation, immediately diving into it like youâve been waiting for this moment your whole life.Â
âThank you.â
Bucky watches you with a smile, then reaches for your untouched sweet and sour pork.Â
âFine. Iâll take this. Not that you ever really wanted it.â
You both eat for a few minutes, but Buckyâs watching you again, this time with a curious expression.
âWhat now?â you ask, pausing mid-bite.
âI just donât get it,â Bucky says, waving his fork around. âYou always do this. You order something different, then you want what I have.â
You shrug, swallowing a mouthful of noodles. âItâs a girlfriend thing. We like to try your food.â
Bucky chuckles, shaking his head. âYou donât try itâyou take it.â
âI canât help it!â you laugh. âYou always pick the better food.â
He rolls his eyes, but thereâs a fond smile on his face. âNext time, just tell me what you want. Iâll order two of it.â
You smile sweetly at him. âWhereâs the fun in that?â
Bucky groans but doesnât stop eating. After a few more bites, though, you notice him eyeing his old boxâthe one now sitting in your lap.
âWhatâs wrong?â you ask, a grin spreading across your face.
âNothing,â he grumbles, glancing between his pirk and the lo mein youâve commandeered. âJust⌠thinking maybe I miss my lo mein.â
You smirk and nudge the box toward him. âWanna swap back?â
âMaybe,â he mutters, but you can tell heâs holding back a smile.
Without another word, you swap your food again, and Buckyâs face immediately brightens as he digs back into his lo mein. You laugh, shaking your head, realizing this is going to be a never-ending cycle of food-stealing whenever you two order takeout.
As you both settle in, Bucky looks over at you, this time with a soft smile, no teasing, no complaints.Â
âYou know,â he says, his voice a little quieter, âthis whole moving in thing⌠not so bad.â
You smile back, your heart warming at his words. âNot so bad,â you agree, leaning into his side.
And as the two of you sit there, eating takeout on your too-big couch in your freshly painted apartment, you realize thereâs no one else youâd rather steal food from for the rest of your life.
The apartment is finally feeling like home, and the evening sun filters through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. Buckyâs arm is draped casually around your shoulders, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm.
Youâve got your phone in your hand, lazily scrolling through TikTok while Bucky relaxes next to you. Every so often, you let out a soft chuckle or grin at a funny video, completely absorbed in your scrolling.
Bucky isnât saying much, just watching you quietly with that soft, fond expression he always gets when he thinks you arenât paying attention. He likes these momentsâwhen youâre just being yourself, not thinking too hard about anything. Itâs one of the things he loves most about you.
Suddenly, you laugh out loud, covering your mouth as a TikTok meme plays on your screen.Â
âOh my god,â you snicker, turning to Bucky with a mischievous smile. âThis is literally you.â
He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. âWhat? What is?â
You bite back another laugh and replay the TikTok, showing him the video. The meme says: "My boyfriend every time any part of my body touches him" followed by the guy on the video saying, "I may or may not have a boner right now."
Bucky stares at the screen for a moment, then glances back at you, his expression deadpan.Â
âReally?â
You burst out laughing, nodding enthusiastically. âYes! This is so you!â
Bucky groans, rubbing his hand over his face, but thereâs a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. âThatâs not me.â
âYes you are!â you tease, poking him in the side. âYouâre exactly like that. Every time.â
He chuckles, shaking his head. âNot every time.â
You give him a look, arching an eyebrow. âOh, really?â
Bucky smirks, leaning in a little closer. âOkay, fine. Maybe every time. But itâs not my fault. Youâre⌠hot.â
You laugh again, nudging him playfully. âUh-huh, sure.â
He catches your hand, pulling you closer, his smirk turning into a full grin. âWhat do you expect? Youâre walking around here, looking all cute and stealing my food. What am I supposed to do?â
You roll your eyes, trying to hold back your smile. âBlame me for everything.â
He shrugs, still grinning. âIâm just saying, itâs a natural reaction.â
You shake your head, trying to keep a straight face, but you canât help it. You burst into laughter again, leaning into him as you laugh. Bucky watches you, his expression softening, his hand moving to rest on your thigh as he pulls you even closer.
âSee?â you say, still laughing, pointing at him. âExactly like the TikTok!â
Bucky rolls his eyes dramatically but doesnât bother denying it. âFine, fine. You got me.â
You grin triumphantly, leaning your head on his shoulder as you settle back into his side. âI knew it.â
For a moment, neither of you says anything, just enjoying the comfortable silence. Then, with a small laugh, Bucky leans down, his voice low and teasing in your ear. âFor the record⌠I may or may not have a boner right now.â
You gasp, swatting his chest. âBucky!â
He laughs, pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms around you, his grin wide and completely unrepentant.Â
âHey, you started it!â
You groan, shaking your head as you push yourself out of his lap, a smile tugging at your lips.Â
âI donât know⌠I think Iâm going to have a shower,â you say, standing up and stretching.
Bucky raises an eyebrow, looking intrigued. âOh, yeah?â
You give him a playful smirk. âYeah. Alone.â
His face twists into a dramatic pout.
âAlone? Câmon, we should save on the water bill. Be responsible adults,â he says with a mock-serious tone, raising his eyebrows like itâs a valid point. He grins, leaning back on the couch, crossing his arms. âJust looking out for our finances.â
âRight. Well, I think weâll survive a little higher water bill,â you tease as you make your way toward the bathroom.
He sighs dramatically. âGuess Iâll just sit here being financially responsible all by myself.â
You pause in the doorway, throwing a look over your shoulder. âGood luck with that.â
Bucky smirks, not giving up. âLast chance. Think of the planet.â
You roll your eyes but chuckle, finally giving in. âAlright, fine! Hurry up!â
Buckyâs face lights up, and he pumps his fist in victory.Â
âYes!â He jumps off the couch, pulling his shirt over his head from behind in one smooth motion, already halfway undressed as he strides toward you with a triumphant grin.
Your eyes instinctively drift down his body as he walks toward you, taking in the way his muscles shift with every step, his abs defined and his chest broad. He tosses his shirt aside, and you canât help but admire the view, your cheeks heating slightly as you watch him.
When he reaches you, Buckyâs hands move swiftly to his belt and the buttons on his jeans, undoing them with ease. His fingers are quick and sure, and he glances up at you, clearly amused by your reaction. He knows exactly what heâs doing as he works to undress, his grin widening when he sees you watching.
âYouâre ridiculous,â you mutter, leaning against the doorframe, trying to play it cool despite the way your gaze lingers a little longer than intended.
âResponsible,â he corrects with a wink, kicking off his shoes. âEnvironmentally conscious. And now, efficient.â
You snicker, stepping aside to let him through. âAlright, Mr. Efficient, youâre on a time limit.â
Bucky grins, already slipping into the bathroom. âDonât worry, Iâm a super soldier. Fast is kind of my thing.â
As you stood shut the door behind you, you suddenly felt a sharp smack on your ass. You gasped, turning around to find Bucky grinning behind you.
âOh my god, Bucky!â you exclaimed, but he was already past you, reaching in to turn the shower on like it was the most normal thing in the world.
He glanced back, his eyes filled with playful mischief. âWhat?â he asked innocently. âYou love it.â
You rolled your eyes, trying not to laugh. âCan you not watch me?â
Bucky leaned casually against the wall, crossing his arms, his eyes fixed on you with a smirk that made your stomach flip. Slowly, he licked his bottom lip, his gaze drifting over your body like he was committing every inch of you to memory.
âWhy not? Iâve seen this a million times,â he teased, his voice low and teasing. âBesides, I like watching you take everything off.â
His eyes lingered on the curve of your waist, traveling up to your bare shoulders, then back down again, soaking in every detail. The way his lips tugged into a smile when you caught him staring sent heat flooding through you.
Your cheeks flushed, but you tried to act unbothered, peeling off your clothes while fully aware of his intense gaze following your every move. You could feel the way his eyes moved over your skin, taking in the sight of your legs, the dip of your back, and the way you tried to casually brush off his attention.
Finally, the water was hot enough, steam swirling around the bathroom. As you reached for the shower door, Buckyâs hand shot out, tugging you toward him and into the shower, his grip firm but gentle.
âBucky!â you yelped as the warm water cascaded over both of you. His arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you against his chest, the heat of his body almost matching the warmth of the water.
He kissed the back of your neck, his voice a low, amused rumble in your ear. âTold you. Saving water.â
Taking the soap, he worked up a lather in his hands and pulled your back against his chest. He soaped your breasts, massaging them and pinching your nipples. You wound your arms around his head, giving you your weight and full access to your luscious body.
Bucky reached for your clit, stroking and circling with two fingertips, loving the way you responded to him. Never had a lover been so in tune with what he needed, your cravings a perfect match to his own. He felt like a god every time you gave in. Soon you were panting, your ass rocking against the semi-erect cock between his legs.
Bucky maneuvered you into the spray, letting the warm water cascade down your skin, droplets running down your shoulders and back as you settled into the heat. He stayed close behind you, soaping his own body while you soaked beneath the shower.
Your gaze flickered, darting between his legs as he washed his cock and balls, the sight almost too tempting. Without thinking, you started to reach for him, fingers trailing toward his groin.
âLater,â Bucky rasped, his voice thick with desire. He caught your wrist gently, his lips brushing your ear as he added, "In fact, I planned on fucking you all night."Â
You shivered at his words, heat pooling low in your stomach as his breath tickled the sensitive skin of your neck.Â
"You're not actually worried about the water bill, are you?" you teased, glancing back at him with a smirk, trying to break the tension, though your pulse was racing.
Turning away, you began to wash your hair, lathering the shampoo into your scalp. But before you could finish, Bucky's hands reached for yours, gently moving them aside.Â
"Let me," he murmured, his fingers threading through your hair as he started massaging your scalp with the perfect amount of pressure, and you moaned. Bucky chuckled softly, the sound went straight to his dick.
"Sovsem ni kapli," he said, his voice rumbling low.Â
"What?" you chuckled, realising he'd spoken Russian on purpose, knowing it turns you on. "You're doing that thing where you talk in Russian.â
He grinned, his lips ghosting over your ear. "Not even a little."
You tilted your head back slightly, feeling his fingers still working through your hair. "Are you teaching me Russian?"
âMaybe," he said, a playful edge to his voice, âYa lyublyu tebyaâ I love you.
âYa lyublyu tebya,â you repeated in an accent far more non-russian accent than Russian.
âYouâll learn. You will be ready to tell me to fuck you in Russian very soon.âÂ
âTeach me how to say that,â you said as you moved under the spray to rinse your hair.
âPozhaluysta, trakhnya menya. Ya tvoya malen'kaya shlyushka.â
âYou said more than just âfuck me.ââÂ
He grabbed your waist and pulled your wet body flush to his. Bucky said, âPlease fuck me. I am your little slut.ââÂ
âOh, my Godâyou nasty.â You fingers threaded through his hair, your eyelids hooded. âWhy is that so hot?âÂ
âBecause you like it dirty, just like I do.â Bucky pushed you against the tile and ate at your mouth, devouring you as he thrust his tongue inside. You kissed him back, meeting him eagerly, and his balls were heavy again with the need to have you.
Bucky reluctantly tore his mouth off of yours and said, âYou know what I want.âÂ
You wasted no time in dropping to your knees on the slick tile. He didnât move, so you shuffled forward until the tip of his erection was within reach. You opened your mouth and sucked on the head, using your tongue on the underside.Â
âArghâthatâs my girl,â His palm swept over your wet hair.
You pushed your face toward his pelvis, taking more of him. He filled your mouth, so thick and smooth, and you could taste the precum leaking from the tip. You closed your eyes, savouring the sensation, loving the power this gave you over his pleasure.
He rocked his hips, fucking your mouth, and you took it eagerly, relaxing your throat to keep from gagging. You made sure your lips stayed tight on his shaft, and you fluttered your tongue until he grunted.Â
âEyes up here.â
You looked up at his face, which was taut with lust, his pupils wide. Bucky began muttering something under his breath, which was something he does to keep himself going for longer.Â
By the time he finished, you were panting, more turned on than you could stand. You started to reach between youe legs, ready to make yourself come, but his fingers twisted in your hair.Â
âNot yet. Put your hands behind your back.âÂ
You obeyed and his nostrils flared at your compliance. âWho do you belong to, baby?â
You knew he wanted an answer, so you started to release him. He shook his head and held you in place. âNo, donât pull off. With your mouth full of my dick, tell me who you belong to.âÂ
Holding his gaze, you gave a garbled answer around the rigid flesh. âMmmu.âÂ
Satisfaction twisted his expression and he pushed deep, making you gag. âThatâs right. What a good girl you are. I think Iâll reward you.âÂ
You groaned low in yourthroat, and the vibrations made him shudder and his eyes rolled, breaking your eye contact. You moaned again, this time intentionally and watched his rapturous expression, revelling in the sudden power. The more he growled and the harder he gripped your hair the more voraciously you tried to devour him with your tongue.
Bucky pumped his hips against your mouth and the only thing keeping you steady was his grip on your head as you felt him stiffen even more against your tongue, your mouth followed, moving wetly back up the shaft. You let out more moans before he gasped and cried out thickly. You felt a pressure in your mouth and it was suddenly filled. You nearly gagged and had to swallow several times to keep from choking, finally pulling away with a gasp to see the remainder still leaking from the tip. You blinked up at him taking heavy breaths.
Turning off the water, he stepped back and his cock fell out of your mouth. He raised a hand to brush the hair from your face and cupped your cheek in one hand. His hand almost practically engulfed you but was extremely gentle, almost tender.
âUp.â
After you rose, he pointed behind you. âGo to the bed. Lay down, arms above your head and legs spread.âÂ
You didnât bother towelling off as you left the bathroom. Instead, you stretched out on the cool sheets, the water drying on your skin and making you shiver. Your clit was swollen and begging for attention.
Bucky strode into the bedroom, his glorious cock bobbing with every step. He was going to shove that monster inside your pussy and you couldnât fucking wait.Â
Putting one knee on the bed, he reached between your legs. âFuck, youâre so wet. Did my Russian turn you on?âÂ
He shoved two fingers inside you and you gasped, you upper half bowing. âGod, yes!âÂ
âIs this pussy empty? Do you need me to fill it?â He pumped his hand, giving you a taste of the friction you craved. âBeg me. âTrakhni menya zhestko, soldat.ââ
You dug your fingernails into the headboard. âTrakhni menya zhestko, James!â
âFuck,â he ground out. âI want to edge you for hours, but I canâtâletâs just go for round two.â In a flash he was on his knees between your thighs, lining up at your entrance and pushing in. The pressure was a lot to take.Â
You werenât sure you were one hundred percent ready. âOh, shit.âÂ
âShh,â he said, smoothing his palms down your legs. âYou can take me, baby, you always do.âÂ
He watched as his cock spread your pussy open, his hips moving slowly, like he wanted you to feel every centimeter. Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head. âSo good, Bucky. Youâre killing me.â
He dragged a hand up your hip, along your ribs and over a breast, until he reached your throat.Â
âNo, Iâm not killing you . . . but I easily could?â Bucky jokes, his fingers covered your neck and squeezed, not enough to cut off your air but enough to cause your eyes to pop open. He was smirking down at you.Â
âYouâre alive at my mercy, angel.â As if on cue, a flood of moisture coated his cock just then and he tunneled farther inside, now in almost all the way. He squeezed your throat a little harder. âYou like that, donât you? When I play with you like this.â
Your lips parted with the force of your breaths, your pulse throbbing beneath his hand. He slid in as deep as he could go, his cock fully seated and taking up all the room inside you. You wriggled your hips, trying to urge him on. You needed to come so badly.Â
âPlease, baby, you have to move.â
Instead, he held still and stared at you. âI am going to choke you while I fuck you.âÂ
Panic filled your chest. You werenât ready for those kinds of games. That was next level shit. âNo, wait. Donât hurt meâtake it easy.â
âAngel,â he crooned, âOf course, I will not hurt you. Ya tebe obeshchayu.â I promise you.
He gave a gentle thrust of his hips. âI am going to squeeze the sides of your throat. It will make you lightheaded and your orgasm will be a thousand times more intense.â
You knew many people were into breath play and strangulation, but it seemed dangerous to you.Â
You swallowed. âO-okay? I trust you.â
âDonât worry, I know how to do this correctly. You will love it.â He stared at his hand on your throat, then withdrew and rammed into your pussy, and the friction sent shockwaves through your limbs. He growled deep in his throat.
âBaby, shouldnât we have a safe word? Or . . . .â your words died when he gave a rough thrust, rocking you body, and you cried out. âOh, yes! More of that.â
âNah. No need for a safe word. The fear and danger will make it more exciting for you.â Bucky winked, pulling almost all the way out then ramming back inside you.
âFuâck. Itâll just make it more exciting for you.â
Bucky only chuckled and he began stroking in and out, his hand resting on your throat. He wasnât applying any real pressure, just building the tension, making you wonder when he would start, and for some reason the uncertainty made it hotter. Sweat broke out on your forehead, your body already primed to come, so you rocked your hips, trying to hit the right spot to send you over the edge.
âLook at me,â he ordered.Â
You cracked your eyelids and read the intent in his gaze. Fuck, was I ready? I really liked the feel of his hand on my throat.
You nodded.Â
As he started thrusting back into his rhythm, he squeezed the sides of your throat, pressing. You never looked away from him, unsure what you were feeling as the blood flow into your head slowed. He watched your face.Â
âThere you go, Angel. It feels so good, doesnât it?âÂ
The fear and excitement sent you spiraling. âOh, God,â you said, now lightheaded.
He rode you hard, rocking the headboard into the wall, and you inner muscles tightened around his dick.Â
He growled. âI can feel you. Fuck!â
He released your neck, and what followed was a rush youâd never experienced in all your life. Your pussy clamped down as the orgasm slammed into you. Yoir hoarse shout echoed throughout the room, and you dug your fingernails into his arms as the climax went on and on.
Buck was pressing deep inside against your cervix, this time harder, and the pressure made you cramp. One of his hands has now begun toying with your breast, creating more of those warm and blessed shivers of sensation.
âYouâre so hot when you take it.â He said brushing his knuckles against the undersides of you breast.Â
âYeah? Well you better not fucking pull out.â You demanded, insensibly rocking you hips against his, and pressing your breast into his hand.
âYouâd like that wouldnât you? You're just going to keep having babies over and over. Don't let any of the cum out of your pussy when I come. We need it all in there so you can do your job. That's all you need to be. Just a little baby maker for me.â He pinched one of your nipples, a little hard, but you instantly wanted him to do it again.
"Ohâfuck, yes! Iâm going to keep it all in for you, baby. Now why donât you find a more...productive use for...your dirty mouth?â You looked at him with glazed eyes, and he gave you a heart stopping look in return.
"As you wish, angel." And with that his mouth was at your devouring your mouth, your throat, and finally was at your breasts. You rewarded him with an approving squeeze at the back of his neck, and his cock as he ravaged you.
He pumped into you more aggressively now, and you ground your hips against him, each shock sliding further from more pleasure. You cried out, clutching at him and wrapping your legs tightly around him, but he continued to thrust into you with greater need, moving more and more deeply, his tongue all over your body.Â
Again the pain mingled with pleasure until it all blurred into a white heat. It was as if you felt everything and nothing. You had trouble discerning where one caress began and another violent thrust ended.Â
You felt him moving above you, his muscles straining beneath your hands and at your mouth as you licked and nipped at his rough skin feeling an undeniable urge to feel and taste every part of him. You felt Buckyâs moans as much as you heard them, vibrating through your body as he pressed against you, covering you and burying himself inside you. He was everywhere, and it felt as if there was nothing left of the world beyond you two straining bodies.
You felt the knot in the pit of your stomach tightening once more and you rocked your hips faster against him, grunting as your bodies slammed together.Â
âOhhhâmyâgod, Bucky! YES. Put that hot load in my unprotected pussy.â
Your hips meet his thrusts coming closer and closer with each jarring shock. Bucky laced his fingers through your loose hair and gripped you again, leveraging himself into you and sending a blinding heat through you making your hips jerk beneath him.Â
âOhâfuck, Iâm going to put a baby inside you now. Can you feel how deep I am inside you?â Grunting from the effort, he held you down as his hips slammed into you, a man possessed, and not even ten strokes later he was coming, his back arching.
His own cry tore from his throat as you shook beneath him, and you felt yourseld suddenly filled, if that were any more possible, and was overcome by a series of wrenching spasms that made you clutch at his skin and gasp for air. You twitched delirious as the throbbing inside of you sent hot waves of pleasure and relief through your trembling body.
Bucky didnât immediately pull out. Instead, he hung his head, closed his eyes, and stirred his hips, like he wanted to prolong your connection. You could feel his come leaking out of you, our combined juices soaking the mattress.Â
You reached down as he slowly pulled out, the emptiness causing you to shiver. You reached down and tried to extract as much some as you could by scooping it out of your with two fingers, eyes locked on Bucky while you seductively lick his come off your fingers.
âFuck, Y/N.â Finally, he rolled off you and sprawled onto the bed.
Your head rested on his arm, your cheek pressed against the hard ridge of his chest. You slid a hand along the groove, trailing it down to his stomach and pressed your hand against it, exploring the firm lines of the knotted muscles with your finger tips.Â
âAre you trying to get me hard again? Because itâs working.â
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Breaking point
⌠Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader
⌠Word count: ~2,5k
⌠Rating: Explicit
⌠Warnings/tags: Dub-con (proceed with caution if this might trigger you), pwp, smut and a bit of fluff at the end, possessive/protective!bucky, degredation (slut, fuck doll, cum-bucket), grinding, choking, spitting, pussy slapping, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, pet name (sweetheart).
⌠Summary: Bucky is done with you going out with losers.
⌠Note: This used to be called I will kill them if they touch you but I never liked that title so I renamed it! Also, you guys didn't know what you were voting for, but it was the banner for this story! Please reblog and comment! Asks are always welcome đ
Masterlist | AO3
"Please don't scare this one away as you did last time," you beg and look at Bucky's reflection in the bathroom mirror. He makes a face where he's leaning against the door frame behind you and then sighs when you give him a look. "He wasn't worth shit if he didn't wanna fight for you," he points out.
Now it's your turn to sigh and you cross your arms, glaring at him. "He isn't supposed to fight for me on a first date. We're supposed to have a good time and hopefully fuck." Bucky's mouth hardens, and he looks away. He doesnât like that, at all.
Ever since you became roommates he's been very protective of you, helping you with the smallest things, driving you everywhere you need to go, even if you can drive yourself. Sometimes it's overbearing but most of the time it's nice to have someone care for you like that.
Unfortunately, recently he's picked up a habit of intimidating the people you go on dates with. He stands behind you when they come to pick you up, and his large frame and cold stare make many of them cower. A few have turned around right away, others have asked if that's your boyfriend or something, thinking it was some type of open relationship/cuckold situation.
"Don't say shit like that," Bucky says through gritted teeth. "I don't wanna think about you fucking other people." You can't help the teasing smile that cracks your face. "Makes you jealous?" With a huff, Bucky pushes off and leaves you to continue.
Two hours later your makeup is done and your hair fixed to perfection. You sit on the couch in shorts and a t-shirt, with a glass of wine, waiting until the last minute to put on the skin-tight dress. While scrolling on your phone, Bucky sits beside you with a beer. "So where's the loser taking you?" "Don't care,â you shrug. âHonestly, my priority tonight is to get laid. The previous ones were a little too⌠bland. But he seems promising." "What do you mean, bland?"
Putting your phone down you look at him, "You don't wanna hear this anyway, you'll just get mad," you point out. "I don't get mad," he defends. "Pfff, you're such a liar, I can see it in your eyes whenever I mention another guy." "Because you deserve the best and all I've seen is trash."
Irritated, you put your glass down too. "Why don't you pick for me then? Who would James Bucky Barnes deem worthy of fucking me?"
The grip on his beer is so hard his knuckles whiten and his lips are a thin line. When he doesn't answer you lean back and start to count people off.
"Well, Steve seems a bit too sweet for my taste but I mean I would not mind trying a slice of that all-American beefcake," you muse. "Sam is so charming and funny! That quick tongue would probably work wonders, if you know what I mean," you wink and watch as Bucky's eye twitch, his jaw clenched hard.
"Tony," you continue. "Well, he seems a little self-absorbed but maybe he's a really selfless lover. Won't hurt to check!" "Loki is so handsome," you bite your lip. "I would surrender my body to him in a heartbeat! But I've heard that he leaves people high and dry and that would be awful."
Tilting your head, you say, "Do you think Thor and Jane would be up for a threesome? I can just imagine eating her out while he fucks me from behind and then we could-"
With a slam he puts the bottle on the table and grabs your face with his hand forcefully, silencing your tirade of words and squeezing your cheeks so that your lips pucker.
The grip is close to bruising and it's an instant pull in your lower stomach. His eyes are black with anger, something you've never seen directed at you before. "No one," he hisses. "Not one of them is fucking you, I will kill them if they touch you."
His hand releases you and grabs your neck instead. You're shocked, and instantly so horny it hurts. Opening your mouth to speak he squeezes harder, making a wheezing sound come out.
"I'll give you a chance to stop this. Tell me right now you don't want this and we'll act as if nothing happened. Otherwise, I'm fucking you into this couch until you can't remember your goddamn name." When he finishes his grip lightens. The rush of blood makes you euphoric and boneless. You want to give yourself to him, let him do whatever he wants. "Fuck me," you whisper.
The kiss is more teeth than lips and the hold around your throat hardens again. You try to keep up with him but it's impossible as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, claiming every inch, making you lightheaded with the lack of oxygen. You gasp for air as he pulls away, releasing you. His gaze is brimming with lust and want now, all signs of anger gone. Then he pushes you down onto the couch.
"You're a kinky little slut, aren't you sweetheart?" he mocks and leans in over you, spreading your legs with his. All you can do is nod and try to wiggle close so you can press your center against his clothed cock. It's clearly outlined in his sweatpants and you hope it's as big as it seems. "If I put my hand down your pants, are you gonna be wet for me?" "Yes Bucky," you whine.
The throbbing is almost unbearable and his smirk is downright sinful. "Come on, rub yourself on me, show me how much you want it." With another whine, you brace yourself against the couch and lift your hips. He doesn't move a muscle to help as you struggle to find the right position.
"That's disappointing," Bucky smacks his lips and frowns. "Thought you wanted this." "I do Bucky, I do, please I'm trying," you tell him desperately. With effort, you get into a good enough position to grind your cunt on his cock through the layers of clothing. It's not nearly enough to curb the ache.
"Useless," Bucky sighs and grabs your legs. "Do I have to do everything?" He pushes your knees up towards your chest, folding you in half and pushing his cock right into your core.
"Sorry," you moan. His mean words have only made you needier and you move yourself against him with abandon. Bucky is motionless above you, not making a sound or saying a word, just staring at you chasing your high. Your movements turn unsteady when you start to come close.
If you were of sound mind you would notice the glint in his eyes but instead, youâre barreling towards your climax. Until he suddenly moves away.
Gawking you stare at him and he just smiles wickedly in return. "Take off your clothes, spread your legs" he instructs and you quickly pull your pants off and discard your t-shirt and underwear, spreading your legs as best you can on the couch. Bucky takes in your bare body, moving his hands slowly down your thighs until his palms frame your pussy.
"Fucking shaved for him too,â he notes with a snarl. You're not sure why that upset him. "Sorry!" you say, just to be safe.
"I don't need your hair curled, your make-up done or your whole body shaved. I will fuck you anyway, sweetheart, no matter what you look like because you belong to me," he growls before he spits on your cunt, sending a rush through you, making you moan and spread your legs even more.
For the first time, he touches you properly, letting his fingers spread the spit all over your pussy before shoving two of them into your soaked core. He pistons them in and out, putting his thumb against your clit and making colors burst before you.
"You want to come on my fingers, you fucking slut?" When you nod frantically he instructs, "Open your mouth, stick out your tongue." A second after you do spit lands on your tongue and droplets on your face. It nearly tips you over.
"Swallow it," he orders and watches you as you do, some form of approval shining in his eyes for the first time. "Who do you belong to?"
The question is too complicated to understand, you can't focus on what he wants. "I don'tâŚ" is all that comes out.
"Wrong answer," he says and removes his fingers, making you shout in disappointment. Sharp slaps land on your wet cunt and you instinctively try to move away from it, but he grabs your legs, pulling you back. "Don't you fucking run from me."
"I'm sorry," you cry, looking pleadingly at him. "I'm- I'm yours James, yours to do what you want with. Please, please, please let me come!"
With a huff he pushes his fingers back in, pressing the tips into your g-spot and getting his thumb back on your clit. His unbothered state makes you feel so small and insignificant, heightening the pleasure coursing through you.
As it climbs, your body shakes, your legs trembling from being held open. "I'm- I'm- don't stop!" you beg. Closing your eyes you focus on the feeling of him, his other hand still gripping your thigh hard. You hope it bruises.
"I can feel you, slut!" Bucky's voice is the cherry on top of everything. "Come on my fingers, do it, come for me!" he commands and of course, you do as he wants. With a scream you convulse, almost pushing him out with the sensation flooding you. Bucky is talking above you but you're not sure what he's saying because all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears.
A hard tap against your cheek makes you open your eyes. "Don't pass out on me, I'm not done with you yet." "Wouldn't dream of it," you smile dumbly, and it earns you a smile in return. But it quickly passes as he pulls off his tank top and pushes down his pants. The cock is just as big as you hoped.
He rubs the head against your soaked center, sending overwhelming sparks through you, making you twitch. When he notches the head of his dick at your opening your blood freezes. "C-condom?" you stutter.
Cocking his head he asks. "Do you really want that? Doesn't a slut like you want to be filled up with cum?" "Y-yes, but, BuckyâŚ" you gnaw your lip.
"I want to fuck my little cum-bucket raw, make sure you feel me running out of you for days," he gives a light thrust, almost pushing inside, giving you a taste of heaven. For a second you look at each other and Bucky presses in just a little bit more. It decides it for you. "Please fill me with your cum Bucky, I need it so bad!" you whine and he chuckles before shoving his fat cock into you without mercy.
Quickly you wrap your legs around his hips, meeting his hard thrusts that are sending your body into overdrive. "Feel so fucking good sweetheart, your cunt was made for me, wasn't it?" he groans. "Yes it was," you answer breathlessly.
He grabs your face. "Those other losers are never going to satisfy you." "No, Bucky, only you!" "That's right, you're my fuckdoll now, sweetheart," he says before he leans down to kiss you. It's much sweeter this time and you grab his head, carding your fingers through his hair, feeling your chest fill with another type of warmth.
When he pulls back he says, "Beg me not to come in you." Your cunt clenches and your second orgasm is suddenly a lot closer. "Bucky, please don't⌠I can't get pregnant," you make your voice small and frail.
In response his laugh is cruel. "Yes you will, your purpose in life is to be bred. I'm going to cum in you every day til it sticks and then everyone will know who you belong to." "Please, pull out," you beg and reach down to rub your clit, feeling the climax shimmering underneath your skin.
"Such a bad liar, sweetheart," he chuckles. "Are you going to come on my cock? Are you gonna claim me just as I claim you?" "Yes! I just need- harder!" you pant. "Fucking hell," Bucky grunts and does as you demand.
The climax rips through you with little regard for your sanity. The sound leaving your throat makes it raw and a second later Bucky moans your name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. It's almost good enough to feel him finish inside you that you come again, but youâre too spent to do more than shudder.
Then he kisses you again, sweetly, caringly, and pushes his arms in under your body to hug you close to him. "So perfect," he whispers against your mouth. The cums start to trickle out onto the couch but neither of you care, too caught up in each other's lips.
"How are you doing sweetheart?" he asks when he comes up for a breath. "I feel a little high," you confess. "Haven't been fucked that good in a long time."
There is something in his gaze that shifts and he leans his forehead against yours. "I'm sorry. I just⌠I couldn't take it anymore⌠I like you so much." "Lucky for you I get off on that stuff," you smile. "And if I had said stop I trust you would have."
He hugs you so hard you can hardly breathe. "Of course, I fucking would." "You can make it up to me by going tender the next time," you smile. "Next time?" "As many times as youâll have me." He laughs into your skin. "I don't think you're ready for that!"
Suddenly the sound of the doorbell jerks the two of you apart. You stare at Bucky with wide eyes. "My date," you whisper, horrified.
With a smirk, he raises himself on his arms. "I should make you go on that date with my cum running out of you, maybe even let him get as far as spreading your legs just to see that youâre already claimed."
With a groan, you cover your face with your hands. "Don't tempt me," you tell him before wiggling out from under him, finding your clothes, and hastily pulling them on.
Opening the door just a crack, you understand you look a mess by the way your date eyes you. "Sorry," your voice is small. "I wasn't feeling great and then I fell asleep on the couch." "Yeah, you look terrible," the guy notes before handing you one of the ugliest bouquets you've ever seen. Quickly stepping away he says, "I'll call you." but you know he won't. "Great, I'll see you around," you respond before closing the door.
Bucky takes the flowers from you and shoves them in the trash before grabbing you around the waist and kissing you again. "Didn't you say he was promising?" "I have no clue what you're talking about," you answer with a completely straight face but then start to giggle as he swoops you up and carries you to his bedroom.
#veltana writes#bucky barnes#bucky smut#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#posessive!bucky barnes#bucky x reader#possessive!bucky#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky fic#bucky fanfic
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Against All Odds | Part I
An arranged marriage with the duke's illegitimate son!bucky.
Summary: In a medieval kingdom where magic and political intrigue are woven into the fabric of society, Y/N, the youngest daughter of a noble Earl family, finds herself in an arranged marriage to James Buchanan Barnes, the illegitimate son of the Duke. Known as the Winter Soldier, Bucky's reputation as a monster in war had instilled anxiety into Y/N's heart. But that fear quickly begins to crumble when she discovers that her husband is not the brutal figure society depicts him to be.
Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)
Words: 8.1k++
Pairing: duke's illegitimate son!bucky x noble!female!reader
Warnings: fantasy/medieval au, i did not write this with much knowledge of fantasy nor medieval lore. I write it solely for plot and the couple dynamic lmao. if you're expecting full blown fantasy novel; this ain't it, man. anyways, 18+ contents, no minors allowed, nsfw, cunnilingus, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, loss of virginity, praise kink, breeding kink (if you squint), marking kink (i think), soft fluffy smut, a wee bit of dirty talk. soft!reader and even softer!bucky. (idk what else, so tell me if there's something i miss.)
P/S: This is the fic for an idea I had earlier this year. The first chapter will only cover the original post but what happens next is something you will need to look forward on the upcoming chapters. Enjoy your read!
Read my other works here: Masterlist
Y/N stood in front of the grand mirror in her chamber, her reflection staring back at her with wide, fearful eyes. The delicate lace of her wedding dress was the opposite of the twisting anxiety in her stomach. Today, she was to marry James Buchanan Barnes, the illegitimate son of the Duke of the kingdom, a man labelled to be more beast than human.
He was known as the Winter Soldier, a title whispered with both fear and awe. Tales of his gruesome feats in battle, his merciless brutality, and his cold, metal arm was deemed as a horror story for the children in the kingdom. People spoke of him as a monstrous weapon, a beast moulded by the Emperor to do his bidding without question or hesitation.Â
Y/N had heard the stories many times before; and it has always been a hushed conversation that floats around whether a ballroom of a gala, or at the tables of the garden parties, sometimes even in between the racks of books in the library.
They always painted a picture of a man who lived only for war, devoid of humanity.
She couldn't help but let these tales feed her imagination. What kind of man was he truly? Did he revel in the violence, or was he a prisoner to his fate? Y/N shuddered at the thought, her heart heavy with fear and uncertainty.
Her father, the Earl, had made it clear why she needed to marry him. It was a political manoeuvre, a strategic alliance to strengthen their family's position. The duke, Bucky's father, wielded considerable power, and their union would bring the Earl closer to the heart of the kingdom's influence.Â
And when he heard that the duke was looking for a wife for his bastard son, he knew that she would be perfect. That was when Y/N, the youngest daughter, became the pawn in this game. Her father's ambitions certainly outweighed any consideration for her feelings or desires.
Y/N had always longed for a marriage of love, a dream she clung to despite her circumstances. She was a hopeless romantic through and through; much like her late mother. She remembered the nights when her mother would read to her and her siblings, spinning tales of prince charming and valiant heroes.
The fire crackled warmly in the hearth as her motherâs soothing voice filled the room. Y/N and her siblings, her older brother Eric and sister Clara, lay tucked under blankets, their eyes wide with wonder.
"And then the prince, with a heart full of love, swept the princess into his arms, vowing to protect her forever," her mother read, her voice a melodic whisper.
Y/N, her eyes sparkling with innocence, declared, "When I grow up, I want to marry a prince charming too!"
Clara, ever the practical one, nodded in agreement. "Me too! He has to be brave and kind."
Eric, being a little boy, scrunched his nose in distaste. "I donât want to get married. I want to be a knight!"
Their mother chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from Y/Nâs forehead. "It does not matter if he is a prince charming or a humble knight. As long as you marry the one you love, that is what truly matters."
Y/N's heart ached at the memory. How she wished her mother were still here to guide her through this terrifying day. The gentle knock on the door brought her back to the present.
"Lady Y/N, itâs time," one of the maids said softly.
Y/N took a long and deep breath, smoothing down the fabric of her dress. She followed the maid down the corridor, her mind a swirl of emotions. Reaching the grand doors of the church, her father waited for her.
"Remember, Y/N," he said, his voice stern. "Do not mess this up. Just endure it. And you'll be fine. This is the most useful you can be to our family."
Her heart sank further; yet she nodded obediently.
Compared to Y/N, her elder brother, a celebrated swordsman, and her sister, a master in the art of business, had always outshone her in their father's eyes. Y/N's talent with languages; ancient and modern â was seen as a useless skill, something that brought no tangible benefit to the family.Â
Her father had never been cruel when she was younger but everything changed when her mother died. In fact, everyone in the family had lost a piece of their soul when she left. Now, his lack of affection only increases the number of scars on her heart.
The doors opened, revealing the crowds of high-ranking nobles; who were mostly strangers â staring at her. Some were judging her; some pitied her. She reminded herself that she was doing this for her family, for the greater good. But the little girl inside her who dreamed of prince charming certainly felt a pang of sorrow.
As she walked down the aisle, her legs trembled, and her hands shook so violently that she had to clasp them together to steady herself. From afar, she saw the silhouette of the man she was destined to marry. His tall and huge figure stood out compared to anyone in the hall. As she got closer, she kept her gaze fixed on the floor, too afraid to look up at her husband-to-be.
When she finally reached the altar, the priest began the ceremony. His speech was long and dragging, giving Y/N too much time to entertain her growing curiosity that she dared to glance up at the man next to her. Even from behind the veil, she could see his towering and broad-shouldered build, his presence commanding the room. His long hair was slightly untamed, and a scruffy beard framed his face. His metal hand, glinting in the sun that leaked through the churchâs windows, was a jarring reminder of the rumors that surrounded him.
There were no heartfelt vows to recite to each other; only their promise of "I do" was exchanged. And that was the first time Y/N heard his voice. It was deep and resonant, sending a shiver down her spine; but there was a certain warmth in it that contrasted sharply with his fearsome reputation.
When the priest announced their union and Bucky lifted her veil, Y/N was struck by the unexpected gentleness in his eyes. They were a brilliant, mesmerizing blue, and for a moment, she forgot to breathe. Bucky's eyes softened as he looked at her, his gaze tender and almost reverent. Slowly, he placed one hand gently around her waist, pulling her slightly closer. His other hand came up to cup her cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle against her skin.
Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as he leaned in, her breath catching in her throat. When his lips met hers, they were soft, warm, and so unexpected. She could smell his cologne; an earthy, woodsy scent mixed with a hint of something fruity; like peaches or tangerines. It made her head spin and her heart jumped all at the same time.Â
The kiss was gentle and unhurried, very much differs to the forceful gesture she had feared. As he pulled away, Y/N found herself blinking slowly, her cheeks flushed and her fear momentarily replaced by confusion and a surprising awe. She was caught off guard by the tenderness of his touch, the way his lips had brushed against hers so gently.
Could the rumors about him be wrong?
"Iâm sorry if I startled you," he said, his voice low and gentle. "I hope I didnât scare you, my dear."
Y/N blinked slowly, trying to process the sudden shift in her emotions. The fear that had gripped her so tightly seemed to dissipate, replaced by a confusing mix of relief and intrigue. Her hands, which had been trembling, now rested at her sides, feeling strangely steady. Her eyes met his, and she could see softness in his gaze that contradicted the harsh rumors she had heard.
âIâno, you didnât scare me,â she managed to say; her voice barely more than a whisper. She took a deep breath, her cheeks getting warmer as she processed the endearment he just called her. On the other hand, her mind was racing as she tried to reconcile the man in front of her with the fearsome figure of the Winter Soldier.
Buckyâs eyes mellowed even further, his gaze glazed with a tenderness that seemed to pierce through the weight of the room. A warm smile spread across his face, and he held her gaze with a comforting assurance.
âGood,â he said, his voice carrying a gentle affection. âIâm glad to hear that.â
The reception that followed was a blur of faces and polite conversation. Y/N moved through the crowd, accepting congratulations and well-wishes, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldnât shake the feeling that there was more to Bucky than the rumors suggested. Every time she caught his eye, he gave her a small, reassuring smile that made the butterflies inside of her go wild.
As the evening drew to a close, they were escorted to one of the Emperorâs palaces, a grand and opulent residence that was to serve as their temporary home before they traveled north to Buckyâs territory. The palace, with its lavish furnishings and golden accents, seemed to mock the uncertainty Y/N felt. She had been assigned a chamber to prepare for the night, and the palace maids were bustling around her, helping her into a set of elaborate, far-from-modest lingerie.
The palaceâs maidsâ whispers and side glances did nothing to ease her growing anxiety. Their condescending tones and occasional snickers were laced with cruel speculation about how roughly Bucky would treat her. The more Y/N overheard, the more her apprehension grew. Despite the gentleness Bucky had shown her earlier, she found herself doubting its sincerity.
Could he really be the caring husband he appeared to be, or was it all just an elaborate show?
The maids finally left, their laughter fading down the hallway, leaving Y/N alone in the grand chamber. Her heart raced, and cold sweat formed at her brow as she sat quietly on the edge of the ornate bed. She kept her gaze firmly on the floor, her hands fidgeting in her lap. The room felt enormous, its sheer size heightening her sense of isolation and dread.
The door creaked open, and Bucky entered the room. Y/Nâs heart nearly stopped as she heard the heavy, measured footsteps approaching. She couldnât bring herself to look up, her body tense and her mind a swirl of panic and unease. She almost held her breath entire when she felt the slight indentation of the mattress beside her.
âY/N,â Buckyâs voice was soft and coaxing, a distinct difference to the coldness she was expecting. âLook at me.â He continued. She hesitated momentarily; torn between obeying and disobeying but ultimately decided to raise her eyes to meet his.
The sight of him; his upper body bare, revealing a tapestry of scars and the stark metal of his prosthetic arm; made her breath hitch. Her eyes traced the lines of his faded wound, particularly the jagged marks where his shoulder met his metal arm. She couldnât help but feel a pang of sorrow and concern. Her fingers, almost of their own accord, reached out to trace the contours of his chest and shoulder.
Bucky let the innocence of her touch to trace the most tainted parts of him; however noting her trembling eyes, he misunderstood her apprehension. âI want you to know, Y/N,â he said, his voice firm yet gentle, âthat I will never hurt you. You are safe with me.â
Y/N shook her head, her heart aching. She felt an unexplainable pain growing in her chest as she gazed at him. Her fingers still lightly touching his scars; her eyes, full of unshed tears, silently asked a question she was too afraid to voice. âDoes it still hurt?â she wanted to ask, her expression betraying her concern.
Buckyâs eyes sparkled with affection, and he took her hand in his, holding it tenderly against his chest. âDon't worry. It does not hurt anymore,â he said with a reassuring smile.Â
The connection between them was electric, charged with a deep, unspoken understanding. Buckyâs gaze was steady and filled with a depth of unspoken emotion that took Y/Nâs breath away. âI know this is difficult for you, Y/N,â he said, his voice laden with sincerity. âBut I promise, I will do everything in my power to make you happy.â
His words and the way he looked at her left Y/N feeling both comforted and overwhelmed. For the first time since their wedding, she felt a genuine, flickering hope that maybe, just maybe, their marriage could become something more than a mere political arrangement. Buckyâs assurances, his gentleness, and the tenderness in his eyes began to dissolve the fears she had harboured since the beginning of their union.
As they sat there, the weight of the nightâs expectations seemed to lift, replaced by a fragile but growing trust. Y/N had entered this marriage with a sense of duty, convinced that she would have to endure the consummation of their union as a matter of obligation. But Buckyâs tenderness, his understanding, and the sincere reassurance he had given her began to change her perspective.
The idea of fulfilling her marital duty had initially felt like a burden she had to bear. She had steeled herself to face it with resignation, convinced that it was merely another part of her role in this arranged marriage. But now, she found herself reconsidering. The idea of being with him no longer felt like an obligation but a possibility of something more profound and intimate.
Y/N hands softly toyed with the delicate strings of her sheer lingerie, pulling it softly as her doe eyes signalled her husband of her intention. Bucky, sensing the shift in her demeanor, looked into her eyes with a mixture of concern and affection. âAre you sure, my dear?â he asked softly. âI want you to feel safe with me and not afraid of me.â
Y/Nâs heart fluttered as she met his gaze, her own eyes reflecting the depth of her emotions. âI am,â she said with quiet conviction. âI feel safe with you, Jamesâ
Bucky's hand naturally went to brush her hair behind her ear, âItâs Bucky, my dear,â he corrected softly.
âHmm?â she asked, slightly puzzled.
He chuckled warmly. âYou can call me Bucky from now on. Itâs a nickname only a selected few who I trust and love knows.â Her eyes sparkled at his choice words; trust and love.
âBuckyâŚâ she tested the name on her tongue, the syllables feeling strangely intimate. Upon hearing his name from her lips, Buckyâs heart swelled, almost bursting from his ribcage. He hummed in approval, âThat's right, my dear. Iâm your Bucky.âÂ
His reassuring smile grew wider, his calloused thumb gently stroke her cheek causing a shiver to strum all over her nerves; sending an emerging desire. One she had not fully acknowledged until now. The way he looked at her, the pure and raw endearment in his eyes, and the softness of his touch stirred something deep within her.
As the moments passed, Y/N realised she wanted this. She wanted to feel his lips on hers, to explore the warmth of his hands, to connect with him on a level she had longed for. The yearning for his touch, which had been dormant under layers of fear and uncertainty, now surged forward with undeniable intensity.
Without fully understanding why, Y/N found herself leaning closer to him, her breath coming in soft, eager gasps. She whispered, her voice barely audible but full of longing, âBucky, please.â
Buckyâs expression softened, and a tender light filled his blue eyes, âMay I?â he asked, his voice low and gentle as he held out his hand. There a shy hesitation before she finally placed her hand in his.
With a gentle but firm pull, Bucky lifted her onto his lap, his careful hands beginning the process of undressing her. Each movement was full of care, yet almost deliberate, as he slowly removed her dress, leaving her in nothing but the flimsy lace piece covering the sacred area between her thighs.
Bucky's eyes roamed over her bare skin, admiration clear in his gaze. Y/N could feel the heat of his gaze, the way his eyes traced every curve and contour of her body. The intensity of it made her feel both vulnerable and cherished, a potent combination that sent pleasurable shivers all over her body.
Seeing the hunger in his blue eyes, she felt the warmth of his body and caught the scent of him; the same once she noticed at the church; warm and comforting. Her breath quickened, and she found herself unsure of what to do or where to place her hands, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.
Noticing the subtle panic, Bucky reached for her hands and guided them through the thick strands of his long hair. âYou can touch me as you please, my dear,â he whispered, his voice soothing as he reassured her. He leaned in to kiss her bare shoulder, then moved up to her neck, along her jaw, leaving a trail of warmth on her skin.
Y/Nâs fingers tangled in his hair, the softness surprising her. The intimacy of the moment, combined with his gentle kisses, began to dissolve the last remnants of her anxiety. The feel of his lips on her skin was electrifying, each kiss sending waves of sensation she never felt before.
Buckyâs hands, still careful and tender, caressed her back, drawing her closer to him. Her breath hitched as he kissed the valley of her breasts; soft gasps escaping her lips as Bucky begins to lick and sucked on her delicate skin; likely trying to mark his claim on her.Â
Every touch and little kisses he left sent shivers straight to her already dripping core. And by the time his lips grazed her nipple, her body jerked forward; in response, unintentionally dragging her aching pussy against his thick thigh.
His lips latched around her right nipples as he licks and sucks the hardening skin; lapping at it as if he was feeding from her. The sensation was overwhelming, yet she found herself leaning into his touch, her body responding to his gentle ministrations. The grip on his hair grew tighter as the strings of moans poured out her lips.
Buckyâs large hands find their place on her hips, guiding her to gently rut on his thigh. Trusting him, she followed his lead as he continue to grind her clit through the thin fabric she was wearing; introducing the sweet friction in on her core. Bucky pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, his expression filled with a mixture of subtle affection and desire. âYouâre doing wonderfully, my dear. Can feel your pussy leaking on me. Do you feel good?â he murmured as he dipped back to kiss her neck.
Oh, he was filthy with his choice of words but surprisingly she was not mad about it. In fact she didnât even notice the whimpers purring in her throat upon hearing those sinful words.
It was as if Bucky recognized that needy sound she made; it caused a smile to spread on his lips. She can feel it grow against the skin in between her breasts, âMy my, is my sweet wife feeling needy right now?â he teased playfully as he effortlessly lifted her up and laid her down on their bed.Â
Placing himself in between her soft thighs, his lustful gaze trained on her naked body; he admired the marks he has left on her breasts, the wet patch on the flimsy fabric covering her cunt, and the way her breath shuddered when he teasingly grind his harden cock against her.
Y/N can feel the contrast of his hands on her thigh, one warm, one cold. Her eyes drew her attention from his hands to his gorgeous face. Oh, the pure unfiltered lust in his eyes was pulling her in so effortlessly; seducing her to submit her body and soul to him completely. Shying away from his stare, she dragged her view down to his chiselled jaw, his broad chest then slowly to his beautiful abs.Â
She admired his body as much as he did of hers.
But what was more prominent out of all, was the way she could feel his erection throbbing against her heat. Blood went rushing towards her face when Bucky guided her hips against the confinement of his cock, which in response; causing her hands naturally found their way to cover her face in embarrassment.
A deep chuckle bubbled from Buckyâs throat; he found her reaction to be absolutely endearing. He leaned down towards her, one hand holding himself up and another tenderly pulling her hands away, then drawing it close to his chest, right against his beating heart.Â
Having nowhere to run, Y/Nâs teary eyes drowned in his ocean blues, âDonât hide from me, dearest.â He peppered a delicate kiss on her forehead, then on her nose, then on her cheek. She could feel the prickly sensation of his beard grazing on her skin. It was ticklish and a little bit painful and yet weirdly enough, it felt good that it naturally made her want to nuzzle it more.
But before she could, Buckyâs lips were already making their way down to her stomach. Her body responds to how soft his lips trailing down; and further down until she could feel them on her clothed core. A surprised yelp fell from her lips as he tore the last piece of clothing from her.
âNow, hands away from your face, my dear. I want to see that beautiful eyes of yours when I eat your sweet pussy.â his voice was honeyed when he made himself comfortable in between her thighs. His hands reached upwards to intertwine both of her hands with his own; acting as a restraint to restrict her from covering her face.
Y/N almost sat up upon hearing his words, âEat what now?â, the question she had in mind was unable to be vocalised; due to her confusion. Prior to marriage, she had learned about sex and its purpose in her marital studies. Unbeknownst to her, the knowledge she had was few and limited for academic purposes only. Which means there were only the few illustrations of penetration depicted in books and the process of how children are bred as a result of it.
So what does he mean when he said those words? While she was still lost and confused, Bucky on the other hand was in his own world; completely and utterly transfixed on the glistening need of her cunt. She was dripping wet; the juices covering her slits perfectly; her scent was intoxicating and if it werenât for the fact that this is her first time, Bucky wouldâve ate her like a man starved of touch. But, he canât do that. Not tonight. He wanted to be gentle; to cherish her, to love on her.
Seeing the darkened clouds in his eyes as he stared at her private, Y/N braved herself to ask, âWhat are youâ ohh hmmmâ her sentence ended up transforming into a toe curling moan as she felt Buckyâs wet tongue flattened across her weeping core. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as he dragged her clit into his mouth and sucked. He strummed her clit with his tongue, causing her to arch her back and he took the opportunity to push his face further into her cunt; licking and sucking quite the literal soul out her.
It felt amazing but her self-consciousness won the battle in her head, she let out a whimpering plea, âBuc--bucky st-stop. Thatâs dirty.â as she gripped on his hands, trying to escape from his grip. Bucky growled against her in response to her futile protest. The sweet vibration only caused her pleasure all over her fluttering core.Â
When Bucky pulled away for a moment; it caused her to feel a sense of loss. âItâs not dirty, my dear. In fact, itâs so sweet.â His lips moved to kiss on her inner thigh, murmuring against her skin as he left yet more of his marks on her, âSo fucking sweet.â He releases his right hand from hers, just to rub his thumb on her clit, slowly dragging it in between her slit; smearing her wetness all around her throbbing bundle of nerves. Her thighs trembled to the sensation of his rough movement of his thumb and a string of shaky mewls fell out of her.
âBut..â she tried to protest but immediately stopped when Bucky brought his soaked thumb to her mouth. Her lips were wet from how he gently smeared the juices on her, âTaste yourself.â He lured her softly. Hesitation glints in her eyes as her cheeks redden. Buckyâs eyes grew tender at her watery ones, he whispered lowly, âSweetheart, do you trust me?âÂ
She does; but she does not trust her own voice to not come out sounding like a needy moan, so she simply nodded. Buckyâs pink lips spread into a smile, âGood girl. Now, open up.â he coaxed lovingly.
Y/N opened her mouth as she was told and let Bucky slip his thumb inside; he was not shy to smother her juices across her tongue, coaxing her to suck on it. To get a taste of what he was having. âItâs sweetâ, she thought to herself. A muffled moan purred in her throat at the thought of her husband enjoying the taste of her.
Bucky smirk grew at her reaction, âTastes good huh, sweetheart?â he pulled his thumb away, leaving her nodding to his question. âNow are you going to let me enjoy your pussy?â his brow quirked when he tilted his head to the side. How can she deny him now? Her eyes glazed with need as she replied, âYes, pleaseâ.
Her mouth falls open in anticipation as a low moan creeps up her throat. Buckyâs tongue slips past her folds, she watched him between her legs, savouring her pussy with his unfiltered groans vibrating against her sensitive spot. Breathless moans and incoherent pleads fall from her mouth as the soft and firm tip of his tongue circled her swollen pearl and flicked it. Buckyâs hands went to her hips, guiding it in time with her own movements, giving her partial control to set the pace.
âBuckyyyy.â She gasped as she alternated between wanting to push his head away or keep him in place. Meanwhile, the man in between her thighs had lost himself; consumed by pure desire the more he drank from her cunt. His tongue moved faster against her clit when he noticed the beat of her throbbing cunt increased. She was going to come. He was sure of it.
The way that she was practically creaming on his tongue drove him near feral. He kept lapping at her juices as if it was the sweetest honey he ever tasted; fuck he even sucked her clit in hopes to force out more of her nectar to leak; then heâd lap on it again.Â
The sweet cycle had pushed Y/N over the edge, her eyes rolling back as pleasure and her hips slightly lifted as pleasure surges through her veins.âOh oh Bucky please please.â She didnât what she was begging for as she chanted his name. âIâm gonna, âm gonnaââ her words died as she squealed; her body trembling in pleasure.Â
His tongue moved faster against her clit; her cum was dripping out of her; coating his beard but his frantic licks didnât stop even when she continue to gush on his tongue.Â
âBucky please, sensitive..â It was too much; her orgasm, her swollen clit, his tongue. Everything.Â
Unfortunately for her, Bucky was far gone to stop now. He had the taste of her cum, now he wants nothing more than to have it again. Despite her protest, Bucky held her hip down, interlocking his hands across her stomach to keep her in place and continue to lick and suck on her overstimulated cunt.
Her whiny pleas didnât come across as a sign for him to stop; instead it kept him going causing him to bury his face further in between her legs. His cock continued to throb in his pants, probably leaking with so much pre-cum and in need of some sort of relief but he ignored it. He wants nothing more than for Y/N to cum on his tongue again.
And that is exactly what happened next.
The moment she fell over the edge, Bucky pushed her even harder against him as her whole body spasmed. He maintained his pace on lapping up at her all throughout her high as her hands went from his hair to the headboard, trying to hold her limp body upright. Y/N took a moment to gather herself together, panting heavily as she regained their senses; while Bucky was swift to pull his pants off and throw it to the side.
He grabbed on her hips, holding her firmly in place as his heavy leaking cock nestled between her aching pussy. âAre you sure about this, my dear?â his hot breath fanning against her neck as he gently ruts into her heat. Even though Bucky can see the darken lust in her eyes, he still wanted to make sure that she was sure of her decision.
Y/Nâs heart swelled at his concern, and she found herself smiling, a genuine smile that reflected the warmth she felt inside. She pulled him closer and kissed him, pouring all her newfound trust and affection into the kiss. âYes, Bucky. I am very sure. â
Bucky quickly responded with equal passion, his tongue slipped in between her lips; exploring the warmness of her mouth, the softness of her tongue. Their muffled moans filled the silenced room, his hands moved to caress her sides, drawing her even closer before breaking away from the heated kiss.
Resting his forehead on hers, his eyes trained on her beautiful face; not wanting to miss his chance to witness the pleasure contorting on her expression. He nudges her clit first, rubbing it slow and sensual before trailing down to her entrance. Gradually, he inches closer, he pushes in and through the tightness of her sacred channel.
Delving impossibly deep, her tightness wrapped around his thick cock until the tip of him reached the deepest parts of her. The sudden feeling of fullness on her untainted pussy caused her to experience both pain and the delightful sensation inside her. The ecstasy of being so knitly connected to each other caused both of them to simultaneously let out moans and groans of raw pleasure.
Bucky waited for her to adjust to his size; leaning down to pamper her with the softest kisses and praises that tears started to swell in her eyes. It was as if Bucky knew exactly what she wanted to hear, how she wanted to be treated and what makes her feel good.
âYouâre doing so good, my dear.â
âLook at how perfect your pussyâs taking my cock. So perfect.â
âMade for me arenât you, sweetheart?. Made to be loved by me, made to be stuffed full of my cock.â
âI promise youâll be safe with me, Y/N. Always.â
When Y/N finally gave him the permission to move, Bucky kissed her pouty lips and murmured sweetly, âThank you, my dear.â His hands travelled to find her ankle; which he then gently prop her calf over his broad shoulder. He started pumping in and out slowly, letting her get used to the friction.Â
Bucky couldnât help but to groan out to the feeling of her wet hole gripping his cock ever-so-tightly. It was slippery and dripping, that he almost completely slid out of her. Gripping her closer he continue ramming himself back in, deeper, harder; sliding in and out of her at an even pace. Each force of his cock causing her body to jerk in ecstasy; hitting that good spot in her so perfectly.
âS-shit, sweetheart,â he moans deep and heavy as he felt her pussy tightening around him. His metal hand slid in between them and his thumb hones in on her clit. The coldness of his finger made her jolt at first but when he proceeded to rub and pinch on it, everything suddenly started to feel too intense; so incredibly good.
With his fingers assaulting her clit, each thrust of his cock and every deep guttural moan and groan coming from Bucky, she felt her release was growing closer. Bucky also started thrusting faster and harder; he knew he was about to come. Especially when he can feel how much pre-cum has been leaking inside her.
He leaned and rested his forehead on hers, his needy ruts became more and more irregular when her pretty doe eyes looked up at him, âCum for me, my dear.â his lips brushed against Y/Nâs as he coaxed her to her sweet release. His thrusts got harsher and deeper and the friction of his metal finger working on her clit got her cunt to frantically tremble around him, âI wanna feel you milk my cock, sweetheart. Then, Iâm gonna my pump cum inside you until youâre leaking.â
Although his words were debauched to no end, however Y/N could sense his genuine affection for her. She felt his sincerity in the way he looked at her, in the way he held her, in the silenced gaze they shared. Overwhelmed with pleasure, her nails dragged across Buckyâs back as she moaned and screamed out his name; letting the high took over her body.
âFuck,, sweetheart. Iâm gonna cum!â groaned as he took in the sound of her pleasured mewls. He ruthlessly grinds into her, savouring the feeling of her cunt tightened around him. With one last rut, he thrust his cock, balls deep inside and let his warm white strings filling her up to the brim. His cock twitches in her fluttering cunt, his legs tensing with every small grind he makes, groaning lowly at her as he bites down on her shoulder, almost drooling on her as he emptied himself completely into her.
Y/N continued to let out strings of soft moans as he pulled out from her leaking cunt; all swollen and sensitive. While she thought she could finally catch some breaths, she didnât notice the way Bucky was biting on his lip at the sight of his cum dripping out of her, or how his hands lazily tugging on his now hardened cock.
âDearest?â Bucky hovered above her as he cradled her by her flushed cheeks. She smiled sweetly as she leaned to his touch, âYes, Bucky?â, she was anticipating him to utter more of those soft words and praises to her; but instead his lips curled into a devilish grin when he slid his cock back into her, immediately pulling a long sinful mewl of his name from her. Bucky hummed approvingly in response; he gently brushed his lips against hers, âMay I fill you up again?â
As the morning sun streamed through the windows, Y/N slowly stirred awake. She reached out, instinctively searching for the warmth of her husband beside her, but found the space empty. A pang of loneliness touched her heart, but it was quickly replaced by curiosity when she saw a bouquet of bluebells, her favourite flower, placed delicately on the bedside table.
Next to the bouquet was a note. With a small smile, she picked it up and began to read.
"My Dearest Y/N,
I hate to leave you alone this morning, but I must ensure our journey home is smooth and safe. I trust you slept well, and I promise to return to your side as soon as I can.
Yours always,
Bucky"
The words written on the note were filled with sincerity and reassurance that made her heart flutter. She smiled, a blush creeping across her cheeks as she wondered how he knew bluebells were her favourite.
Just as she was lost in thought, the door opened, and the palaceâs maids entered the room. Their faces were a mixture of curiosity and impatience, clearly expecting to see a frightened and bruised young bride.
However, when they saw Y/N's skin, they temporarily froze in their spots. Her skin was indeed bruised, but each one of them recognized the marks for what they were: love marks, not signs of harsh abuse that they were expecting. The traces of Bucky's possessive love were prominent all over her neck, chest, and inner thighs, leaving Y/N blushing as the maids, too, found themselves flushed with embarrassment.
âWell, isnât this a surprise,â one of the older maids muttered under her breath, her tone laced with irritation. Another maid, with a more condescending sneer, huffed. âLooks like we lost the bet, ladies. Who would have thought the beast could be so... tender?â
Y/Nâs cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and pride. She could feel their resentful glances and knew they were not pleased with the outcome. The marks on her body were a testament to the affection and desire Bucky had shown her, and despite the initial fear, she now wore them as symbols of the unexpected bond they had begun to forge.
The head maid, who had been the most vocal the night before, now seemed to handle her with an edge of bitterness. The other maids, who had been so quick to judge, were now silent, their eyes wide with resentment.One of the younger maids, braver than the rest, couldnât hide her frustration. âWell, my lady, I suppose youâre alright, then?â she asked, her voice barely masking her disappointment.
Y/N looked at her, considering the appropriate response. If it was up to her, she ought to punish every single one of them for not knowing their place. Unfortunately, they were not her maids to begin with, but the palace's staff. Otherwise, she would likely fire each one of them.Â
The memory of Buckyâs affection and care filled her heart, leaving no room for anger or resentment. The warmth of his embrace and the gentle way he had treated her made the maids' behaviour seem petty and insignificant.
She could still feel the lingering touch of his lips on her skin, the way his hands had caressed her so delicately, and the sound of his reassuring voice. Her body was still tingling with the remnants of the previous night's intimacy. Her skin bore the marks of his love, not of brutality, and each bruise was a testament to the passion they had shared. It was completely different to the vile expectations of the maids.
A small smile playing on her lips despite the blush that still coloured her cheeks. "Yes," she said softly, "I am quite alright."
The maids exchanged annoyed glances, their expressions a mix of frustration and disbelief. Their muttered disappointments were tuned out as Y/N focused on the lingering warmth from the night before.
She couldn't hear a single thing except her heart beating to the thought of her husband. She missed him already. Who wouldâve thought sheâd be swooning for him so soon?
She found herself yearning for his presence, the comfort of his touch, and the sound of his reassuring voice. The memory of his gentle kiss and tender words lingered in her mind yet again, making her heart flutter.
As the maids continued their work, Y/N hoped they would at least perform their duties well enough to cover up for their childish behaviour. She wanted to be ready to see Bucky, to greet him with the same warmth and affection he had shown her. Despite their rudeness, she resolved to focus on the positive, cherishing the newfound bond with her husband.
Bucky stood at the head of the table, his stern expression and commanding presence filling the room. He was reviewing the logistics of their journey home, his voice cold and decisive as he issued instructions to his knights. His trusted knight, Sam, was detailing the possible hotspots for bandits they might encounter along the way.
"We'll likely face trouble here," Sam said, pointing to a spot on the map. "We should send some of our best men ahead to clear the path."
"Agreed," Bucky responded, his tone unyielding. "Deploy the knights in advance. Ensure the path is secure before we proceed."
Sam nodded and continued outlining the plan. He paused, expecting Bucky to reconfirm, but noticed a change in his leader's face. The harsh lines softened, his eyes filled with a tender warmth, as he stared intently at something across the room. Before Sam could look or utter a word, Bucky turned and walked away with determination.
Sam followed Bucky's gaze and understood immediately. "Ah, that's why," he muttered to himself as he watched Bucky approach Y/N. The change in Buckyâs demeanour was striking. He moved with a grace and warmth that was at odds with his usual stern and imposing presence.
Buckyâs eyes softened as he took in the sight of Y/N. He admired her beauty with a gaze filled with awe and adoration. The way he looked at her was as if he was seeing a vision he had longed for, a rare and precious gem that had finally come into his life.
As he extended his hand toward her, a gesture usually seen as etiquette but now entirely with different meaning, especially with the hearts bursting our of his blue eyes. Y/Nâs face lighting up with a shy smile, took his hand; almost too eagerly. Bucky's fingers closed gently around hers, his touch tender and reassuring. The contrast between his usual, fearsome reputation and the gentle way he interacted with her was profound, making it clear that his feelings for Y/N were deeply genuine.
Bucky kissed the back of her hand, his lips softly caressing her knuckles. "My dear," he greeted her, using the endearment he had chosen when they first met at the altar.Â
The scene seemed like it was pulled raw from a romance novel that the surrounding staff and knights simply watched in shock and awe. "Did he just..." one knight whispered, eyes wide. "Called her 'my dear'?" another finished, equally stunned.
Sam, who had witnessed firsthand the monstrous side of Bucky in war, found himself in a state of utter disbelief, jaw dropped loose. He had seen Buckyâs sword painted blood-red, his face splattered with the gore of countless enemies. The Winter Soldier was a force of nature on the battlefield, his brutal efficiency leaving a trail of carnage in his wake. Sam recalled the sight of Buckyâs cold, unyielding eyes as he cut through foes without hesitation, his armor and weaponry gleaming with the blood of those who dared oppose him.
And yet, here he was, the same man who had struck terror into the hearts of many, now standing before Y/N with a tenderness that seemed unimaginable. Sam could hardly believe his eyes. The disparity was pronounced and bewildering. Buckyâs expression was soft, his movements gentle as he held Y/Nâs hand in his.
âIâve missed you,â Y/N said softly, her eyes shining with affection. She truly did, it would be a lie that she didnât felt the ache in her heart when she woke up alone that morning. The emptiness beside her had felt profound. The bed still carried his scent, a lingering warmth that whispered of his recent presence. Even though the separation had been brief, as evidenced by the thoughtful note and the bouquet of her favourite flowers he had left behind, the loneliness she felt was palpable. His absence, however fleeting, had created a void that left her feeling incomplete.
Buckyâs heart seemed to burst with emotion. He couldn't care less about the gawking staff surrounding them as he pulled her close and kissed her deeply. She initially froze, caught off guard and embarrassed, but soon melted into his kiss with a blossoming confidence.
As their lips met, memories of their tender and passionate night together surged through Bucky's mind. The way she moan his name, the taste of her cum, the tightness of her pussy gripping on his cock, the way his cum leaked out of her, every single sinful scene replayed in head; infinitely. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, and he found himself nearly losing control. Reluctantly, he pulled back from the kiss, his breath uneven and his gaze filled with an unspoken hunger.
"God, what should I do with you, hmm, sweetheart?" Bucky whispered, his voice laced with seduction as he continued to place gentle kisses along her cheeks and jaw. His lips brushed softly against her skin, whispering how much he had missed her and expressing a wistful desire to stay wrapped in the warmth of their shared bed just a little longer.
Y/Nâs soft giggle rang out as she felt the roughness of his stubble against her delicate skin. The sound was like music to Bucky's ears, brightening his mood and filling him with a profound sense of joy. Despite the joyful exchange, he reluctantly ended the sweet torment, his kisses lingering just a moment longer before he pulled away.
âWe should be ready to begin our journey shortly,â Bucky said, his tone shifting to a more practical note when e turned to Sam, who had approached during their moment of intimacy.
âY/N, this is Sam Wilson, he is one of my trusted knights.â Bucky introduced, his gaze shifting to his wife. Sam gave a respectful nod to Y/N, a hint of surprise still evident in his expression from witnessing Bucky's affectionate display. âItâs a pleasure to meet you, Lady Y/N.â
Y/N smiled warmly at Sam, appreciating the introduction. âThe pleasure is mine, Sir Wilson.â
Sam, sensing that the formality was unnecessary given their imminent interactions, decided to ease the situation. âJust Sam, my lady,â he said with a friendly tone. Y/N repeated his name with a touch of amusement. âWell, itâs nice to meet you, Sam.â
Bucky, observing the growing camaraderie between his wife and his trusted knight, couldnât help but feel a twinge of protectiveness. The easy familiarity between them seemed a bit too casual for his liking. His eyes narrowed slightly as he gave Sam a warning look. âWatch it, Wilson.â
Sam, not missing a beat, chuckled at Buckyâs protective demeanour. âWhatâs the matter, my lord? Canât handle a bit of friendly conversation?â
Y/N, noticing the playful tension and Buckyâs slight irritation, couldnât help but laugh. The contrast between Buckyâs usually soft demeanour that Y/N had witnessed and his current protective stance were both endearing and amusing. Her laughter lightened the mood, making Samâs teasing even more enjoyable.
Bucky's stern gaze softened as he watched Y/Nâs laughter, though his protective instinct remained palpable. Steering the conversion back to the preparations, he allowed a faint smile to tug at the corners of his mouth despite his earlier warning.
âI trust you can escort my wife to the carriage,â Bucky said, his voice serious but tinged with a hint of a smile. âHowever, I expect you to maintain proper distance and adhere to these additional guidelines.â He paused, ensuring his words were clear. âNo unnecessary physical contact or overly familiar behaviour. And if you could, avoid any casual conversations that might be misinterpreted.â
Sam looked at Bucky in disbelief, shaking his head with a bemused expression. âSeriously, Barnes? Youâre laying down rules for me to keep my distance from your wife now?â
Buckyâs eyes narrowed playfully. âConsider it a precaution. Iâd rather not have any misunderstandings.â Sam chuckled, rolling his eyes as he complied. âUnderstood. Iâll make sure to follow your... guidelines.â
Y/N watched the exchange with amusement, her earlier shyness melting away into a warm appreciation for Buckyâs protectiveness. The scene, tinged with a touch of comedy, only deepened the connection between them.
Bucky, intent on making a point to Sam while expressing his affection, pulled Y/N close and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. The gesture was both intimate and deliberate, a subtle yet clear indication to Sam that she belongs to Bucky. âIâll join you shortly, my dear,â Bucky said softly, his voice filled with warmth as he gazed into her eyes.
Sam, unimpressed by Buckyâs display, rolled his eyes at the seemingly childish antics. âThis way, my lady,â he said with a hint of impatience. Y/N nodded in agreement but paused before turning her back on Bucky. With a loving smile, she whispered, âIâll see you later,â before following Sam.
Bucky watched as Sam guided Y/N away, his gaze lingered with a mix of affection and something much deeper; an unspoken sadness. As their silhouettes walked further and further away from his sight, a sombre glaze settled over his eyes.
Beneath the surface of his composed exterior, his heart ached; the was a silent reflection of a pain he had hidden deep within his heart. It was a lingering sorrow that had shadowed him ever since he stood at the altar, the weight of unvoiced grief clinging to him as he gazed at his future bride.
Part II >>
Read my other works here: Masterlist
A/N: Wondering why he was in the feels at the end? Weâll know it soon enough. Iâll see you in the next parts! Thank you for reading!
#bucky barnes au#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky fluff#bucky smut#bucky angst#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes angst#winter soldier!bucky#medieval!bucky#duke!bucky#grumpy!bucky#soft!bucky
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Trigger Tease
Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Your honeymoon from hell takes you straight to a strip club south of Madripoor, where Bucky teaches you how to give a lap dance, shoot a gun, and kill a man all in one nightâand maybe agree to have his baby, too.
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected piv. Oral (m! & f!receiving). Sex in a sauna. Sex in a strip club. Praise & degradation. Breeding kink. Daddy kink. Double homicide. Dickriding. Beefy, mob boss Bucky hates birth control and bad menâloves babies and killing HYDRA operatives for his wife.
Descriptions of violence throughout
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
Roleplay was funâeven vital for a marriage like yours.
Only instead of assuming the role of sexy masseuse, strong and strapping CEO, hands-on handyman, or some naughty professor with a knack for after-class punishment, Bucky got to play a bloodlusting assassin.
âWinter Soldierâ didnât have quite the same ring as most pornographic tropes, but that was no matter. What counted now was making the shot, and getting it right.
You sincerely hoped you wouldnât fuck this up.
It was no secret that the Barnesâ bloodline was steeped in dealing, stealing, gunslinging, and laundering cash. Staggering privilege, too. From the sandy shores of Curaçao to Luxembourg and Guinea-Bissau, any living heir to the dynasty could have expected to find safe refuge and respect just about anywhere that they went. It was all but engrained in their DNA at this point.
All that is to say, Bucky had no trouble finding a foreign hideaway in a pinch. He liked the Swiss Alps the best.
After your short and sweet conversation with âJoeyâ over the phoneâHYDRA hijacking the intercom systemâhe and Sam and Steve had made the split-second decision to reroute the plane to ZĂźrich, and now you were here.
72 hours into a four-day ticking time bomb and totally clueless as to how you might stave off impending death, and mitigate other casualties, the best that you could.
The stress fucking with Bucky made it worth it, though.
In between breakfast and the start of your husbandâs early briefing that day, youâd found yourself situated in much the same way youâd been spending a lot of time lately: pinned against the wall of a wood-paneled sauna, Buckyâs broad shoulders supporting both of your legs as he buried his face deep between your thighs. You sighed.
âHold still,â Bucky grunted, voice muffled as he tried to keep your slick, squirming body in place above him.
You yelped and seized a fistful of his hair when he wedged his tongue even further inside you, nudging your clit with his nose almost too teasingly and deliberate.
âI canâtâŚhelp it,â you bit back, ignoring the brief glare you earned from your husband as soon as you said it, âYour tongueâs just soâ sâ James!â
This time, Bucky let out a full-throated groan when you yanked on those poor wet locks of hisââGonna make me bald by next Christmas if you keep doinâ that, honeyââand he pried his head from your legs just long enough to knock you flat on the sauna bench close by.
The western red cedar seared hot on your skin, already flushed from the exhaustion wrought by Buckyâs tongue; you hardly had the strength to hold yourself up when he pushed you onto your back and crawled over your body.
âHow âbout my fingers, doll? Can you take a coupleâa those for me?â Bucky crooned above you as he stroked your hair, bathed in pure sunlight pouring in from the windows. His voice was a touch more sympathetic now.
After all, this was your third orgasm of the morning. It really wasnât fair for him to use that biological weapon of mass destruction he liked to call his tongue when he knew how sensitive your clit would get from just one âOâ. Even his hands might be too much in your current state.
Bucky was busy peppering your skin with kisses, working his way from the base of your neck to the crown of your head, when you whimpered and tried to fight a smile.
âFinger,â you corrected him, âJust one finger, Barnes.â
You wouldâve thought youâd just thrown your wedding ring in his face and told him to eat shit. Just one?
âHowâs one finger sâposed to stretch you out for my cock, huh? Practically had you screaminâ when I stuck it in last night,â Bucky wasnât one to hide his amusement, grinning even bigger when you swatted him on the arm.
âWho said anything about your cock?â You tried to keep cool as Buckyâs fingers trailed right back down to the place you felt yourself throbbing, aching for his touch, âYou have a meeting in ten minutes.â
âMeeting doesnât start until I say so, my love,â Bucky reminded you just as his index ghosted over your folds.
In truth, he was willing to play this game any way, and for however long, you wanted it done, so long as he was the one bringing you pleasure all the while. Be that his cock, his finger, or all fucking five on one hand, Bucky just wanted to get you off. It was far better sustenance to him than the whole fucking meal heâd eaten that morning.
Bucky kept it down to one digit and lightly circled your bundle of nerves when he sensed you were ready.
You gripped his forearm and shot a quick look between your legs, still in disbelief as to how he could make you feel this good so soon after youâd cum twice before. You felt his lips drift over to yours and steal a few kisses.
âAlways doinâ so good for me,â Bucky praised, moving his finger in circles. When you whined against his mouth, he pressed it even harder, âSuch a good girl for daddy.â
âJames,â you breathed, clenching your legs together.
âEverything OK?â
âUh-huh.â
More than OK, in fact. That delectable coil of sweet, euphoric release was already swelling gently in your tummy. Bucky moved his finger even faster.
âTell me how it feels,â he murmured low in your ear.
Bucky loved seeing you try to articulate your feelingsârelatively fresh and new to your world, stillâwhile he was giving you pleasure. Adored the way you winced and whined and arched your back into his touch as a whole blustering hailstorm of sensations crashed over you.
He sank his tongue in your mouth as he kissed you, as if trying to extract the words from between your lips. Your response, in consequence, came somewhat stifled.
âMmâ feels so, ohââ Your voice broke off in a moan when Bucky tightened his circles, ââso good, daddy.â
âWanna show daddy how good and cum for me?â
Bucky knew by the way you were whimpering under his hand that the tendril in your stomach had almost tripled in size. It wouldnât take much to tip you over the edge.
âMy sweet girl,â he said, rubbing your cunt at the same time he was stroking the back of your head, gently, âFeels so nice down there, doesnât it?â
You rolled your hips against the bench and nodded. Your breaths were short and ragged, panting helplessly into Buckyâs mouth when he adjusted his hand just a little: pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit, with his index moving down to your entrance. Pushing inside you.
âAnother,â you choked, not thinking.
Bucky met your desperate gaze and nodded, knowing this was exactly what you needed to make it over the precipice.
Still, he wouldnât be Bucky if he didnât tease just a bit.
âI thought my wife wanted one finger,â he hummed, brow pinching inward.
âNo, no.â You couldâve shrieked when he curled the digit, âWant moreâ Bucky, please, please, I need more.â
Again, your husband appeared to nod in understanding, but his fingers didnât budge. He worked his thumb a little faster and watched you writhe on the seat beneath him.
âHow many, honey? Donât wanna hurt my baby.â His words were all kindness, it seemed, but his tone laced with shameless condescensionâthe kind that said, yes, I know you need this, and no, I wonât indulge you just yet. Bucky was the worst when he wanted to prove a point. You couldâve ripped at his clothes and torn them in two if you werenât both stark naked and shrouded in steam.
You opted to pull at his hair instead.
Bucky winced, but the smirk never left.
âI said how many?â he pressed again.
âThree. Four.â Fuck if you knew.
Your husband raised both eyebrows and hummed, a single finger still plunging in and out of your cunt at a rapid-fire pace. He teased the tip of another at your entrance and smiled even more when you whined.
âNeedy little thing, isnât she?â
âBuckyââ
âJust wants to fuck daddyâs hand to get herself off, hm?â
Bucky didnât bother to mask his sweet, degrading tone any longer as he talked down and teased you to no end. It drove him half-insane to see you squirm around, rut your hips, let him say the filthiest fucking words he could conjure up, and just bob your head to whatever he said. His impeccant wife and her insatiable needsâBucky couldnât even begin to express how turned on the sheer dichotomy got him. He stared in your eyes, all glossy and soft, and felt his cock stand even more rigid on his belly.
He didnât give a shit if heâd taunted you enough or not; he just shoved his middle and ring fingers alongside the first and clenched his jaw to start fucking you hard with all three.
Your whole face contorted with pleasure, tinged with the faintest shade of discomfort at the tail end of it. Youâd forgotten how big his fingers felt all together.
âBucky,â you whined, mindlessly clawing at the wrist that was moving back and forth, fast, between your legs, âB-Baby, slowâ slow down a little.â
But Bucky was deep in the zone. He knew you wanted it tooâsensed that you liked to play it safe when it came to your pleasure and grew a little timid at times it got to feel too muchâand he needed to talk you through it.
Rather than turn his head and keep to himself as he got you up to your peak, Bucky pressed his face down to yours and nodded againâthis time with a tender sincerity.
âFeel a little stretch down there, huh?â
You didnât have to say anything, just whimpering in time. Bucky kissed your forehead and let you fold into him as his fingers wreaked havoc down below. He kissed you again, and again, and in between kisses, mumbled,
âThatâs daddyâs sweet, needy little slut.â
âMy perfect fucking wife, so good at taking my fingers.â
âGonna be nice and stretched out for my cock, hm?â
Every syllable spoken aloud was like a brand new catalyst for your impending release. You barely nodded your head, opened your mouth and whined pathetically, but thatâs exactly how Bucky wanted you. Exactly how you needed to be, bucking your hips in time with the cadence of his fingers fucking inside you, and soon, those whimpers were turning to moans as that soft little helix inside you reached its breaking point.
Bucky brushed once or twice more against your sensitive spot, and suddenly you were coming undone all over himâcrying his name, clawing his skin, squeezing your legs so tight around his wrist you feared you might snap it in two, and then getting kissed again, over and over. Bucky soaked in your every sound, and the few tears that would inevitably spring to your eyes, like sweet nectar.
You were still moaning, curling your tongue feebly against his own and leaning into him as far as you could, when your husband slipped three fingers up between your mouth and his and pushed them past your parted lips.
âSuck,â Bucky said, clenching his jaw as he watched you, âCâmere, honey, taste your cunt on my fingers.â
You took him in and sucked your arousal off his fingers just like he asked. Took him by surprise and dragged a mindless, lazy, half-crazed and careless tongue all over his hand, where your juices had no doubt collected too.
That slutty, fucked-out look you gave himâlike your brain had all but fallen out of your head with the orgasm heâd given youâwas everything Bucky couldâve wanted.
He climbed on top of you and took the base of his cock, rock-hard and weeping tears of precum from the tip, almost drunk from the feeling himself. His mouth hung open as he dragged himself over the seam of your cunt.
âI need to fuck you now.â
Buckyâs words couldnât have hung in the fog-infested air for more than a millisecond or two before he had you back in his arms and carried to the far end of the sauna.
At the doorâor, rather, on itâwith your back flush against the wood, you felt Bucky pin you in place with his hips and press his erection to that soft, cramped space between your bodies. You tightened your legs around his middle and sucked in a breath when you felt him pulse.
Then the head of his cock was circling that slick, taut ring of muscles like all hope for his future happiness lay there: right between your legs in the softest and sweetest recesses of your body he could reach. His eyes couldâve been engulfed in flames and still not betrayed a fraction of the smouldering desire that lay behind them nowâhe drank you in with a single look and sighed.
âCan Iâ do it, now?â The term âfuckingâ swiftly lost all lustre when he was an inch from your heat and ready to press in; he just needed to be in you, a part of you, now.
âYeah,â you breathed. You pressed your forehead to his.
Bucky ran his tip once more down your slit and had just begun to ease his hips forward when a moan snagged in his throat. He braced you firmer against the door, letting your arms drape over his shoulders, and was just about to slide his length inside of you, thenâ
Thump, thump, thump.
Three knocks in quick succession.
You jumped, the sudden raps reverberating up the door.
Bucky held you to him, tight, and planted a hand beside your head as if to hold the whole frame still. Then, through gritted teeth,
âWhat the fuck do you want?â
âNeed you downstairs. Now.â
It was Sam.
âCan it wait?â
âNo.â
Bucky frowned. Scratched the wood surface reflexively.
âCan itâŚwait?â he tried again, tone laden with a silent but pointed, âIs it urgent enough to drag me away from my wife when Iâm less than an inch away from being seven inside her?â Evidently, Sam got the gist, or was just keen to get him out, because he returned, quick:
âYeah. Legalâs here.â
âShitâ was Buckyâs wordless expression below you.
Then a âShit, shit, shit, just shoot me nowâ kind of look that raised an eyebrow on your own frazzled face.
Wasnât the arrival of Buckyâs legal team a good thing? Heâd been agonizing for days, badgering Sam and Steve to no end over when theyâd hear back from his retinue, and here they were. You couldnât ask just yet, as your husband was lowering you to the floor and stepping back from the door, chest racked with a shuddering breath, but you wanted to know. You reached for a towel.
âFine. Fuck. Iâll be right out.â As it was, Bucky had chosen to forgo the dry-off altogether and just started chucking clothes on his body, eyes roaming all over.
You turned from the sound of Samâs retreating steps and found him moving fast, gracelessâshoulders hunched, head bowed, pants wrestled almost angrily up his legs. He found his balance, barely, bracing his weight against the sink, then nearly tore the porcelain fixture off the wall with how hard he kicked it trying to get his left shoe on.
He muscled into his dress shirt and flushed bright red.
In a second, you had either side of the crisp white button-up between your hands, frowning.
âAny reason why weâre so upset?â you asked after a beat.
Bucky puffed a short breath over your head as you secured the first button. Then the next. Then the next.
âWhat? Apart from the fact Iâm not balls deep and about to give you your fourth orgasm?â he grumbled.
You shot him a look.
âI mean itâsâ not ideal, getting a visit at a time like this,â Bucky continued once heâd sufficiently contained half a smirk and could don a more serious look, âIf we were getting any good news they wouldâve just called.â
Hell, great news couldâve made it in an email. The whole aggregate of his legal team taking the trip from Brooklyn to ZĂźrich meant that shit had most likely hit the fan in a big way. Bucky wasnât thrilled to learn the âhowâ just yet.
Instead, he cupped your cheek in one hand and brushed his thumb along its curve once youâd made it to the last button of his shirt. He started to lean in, hoping to delay the briefing downstairs with a quick diversion to your lips, but he stopped about an inch away from your face.
Youâd lowered your touch, slipping it under the band of his boxers. He was still as hard as youâd felt him last.
Bucky let out a grunt when your fingertips grazed the soft tufts of hair adorning that part of his abdomen. He sucked in a breath when they sank even further.
âIâm sure weâll be fine,â you said, voice dulcet and slow as you wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft.
Again, a sound rumbled deep inside Buckyâs chest, and the thumb resting on your cheek stirred. In fact, it had no other choiceâyour head was starting to move.
Descending, slowly. Sinking to the floor in front of him. Positioning yourself right above the bulge in his pants.
Now Buckyâs palm was laying flat on your head, resting light as it ever had while you drew him even closer.
âBabyââ
âYeah?â you hummed, just then tugging him out and bringing your mouth to the swollen, leaking head. Bucky gripped a good handful of your hair and rutted his hips without meaning to, and you smiled, âCanât have my husband showing up hard as a rock to his meeting.â
You were right. There was no way Bucky was getting rid of this wood without the help of his hand or one of your holes. And, under any set of circumstances, he wouldâve much preferred the latter to the former. He groaned when you took his tip to your lips and stroked him softly.
You made remarkably quick work of the man with just a minute or two, your mouth, your hand, and a tiny bit of spitâa record-breaking feat, Bucky had thought to himself with some embarrassment. But you werenât concerned with his stamina in the slightest, focusing instead on the ways in which you might maximize his pleasure in the same way heâd done for you. Stretching your lips, loosening your jaw, and taking him down as far and as frequently as you could manage without gagging around him, you had him good. Deep. All but aching for release as he took a firm hold of the sink behind him.
âThatâs aâfuck, thatâs a goodâŚfuckinâ girl.â
You bobbed your head once or twice more, flitting your gaze to his face, and felt the warmth unload in ropesâglazing your throat and every soft, square inch of your mouth as he did. Practically flooding your tongue with his cum. Bucky groaned and made a fist in your hair.
âBabyâŚshit,â came the sound of disbelief under his breath when you pulled off just enough to breathe.
You were careful how you took in air; flaring your nostrils the slightest bit, feeling a twitch at the corners of your lips as you tried not to smirk. Then, with an obscene sort of precision and purpose, you gave something else a try.
You stuck your tongue out at Bucky to show him the warm, oozing load heâd just left in your mouth.
Your husbandâs response was immediate: evidently, he loved nothing more than a show of himself inside you, displayed like a prize between your two rows of teeth. You watched him grit his own to suppress a moan.
âFuckinâ hell,â he seethed. Still reeling from his high.
Then he paused, in awe for a second, before dropping one finger to your mouth and swirling his touch along the sticky, opaque puddle resting over your tongue.
You closed your lips around him, snug, and held his gaze.
A weaker man might have come undone. Bucky just let out a breath and smiled.
âIf you wanna play show-and-tell with my cum I can find someplace to put that, doll,â he said, low as ever, then,
âCâmere.â
You didnât need the powers of telepathy to understand what heâd meant. Shouldâve known better than to dip your toe in the cumplay game with a man who arguably harbored the worldâs biggest breeding kink and really wanted to knock you up. The realization had you back on your feet in an instant. Having swallowed fast, pried your lips off his digit with a pop, and licked the corners of your mouth, you rose without the threat of a second thought.
Your pale yellow dress was the first thing you grabbedâthe first thing Bucky tried to yank off of your body when youâd slipped it up your legs and staggered backward.
âNot happening, Barnes,â you giggled, pretending not to see him advance when you stepped back.
But Bucky had never been big on civility in times like these. He lunged forward and nearly tore the barely-zipped frock off your frame, eliciting a shriek and another arch look from you as you started toward the door.
You were amazed you made it throughâyour husband had had to stop to tuck his dick back in his pants before stumbling after youâbut when you took off down the hall, you knew it was only a matter of time before you heard his footsteps thundering fast after your own.
The tips of your toes had just barely grazed the first step down the stairs when hands seized your hips. You yelped.
âBUCKY!â
Whether on account of your own practiced agility, or the fact that Buckyâs palms were still sticky and slick with his sweat, you managed to wrest yourself out of his grip just long enough to get a start down the stairs.
âCOME HERE!â Bucky boomed loud, trying his hardest not to laugh as he chased after you.
You screamed without meaning to. Yanked your wrist out of his reach when youâd made it to the bottom of the stairs and felt your husband close the distance in quick. You tried to be firm, insistent, primed with the kind of fine and unfuckwithable attitude that signaled you meant business. You didnât, thoughâthe series of giggles bubbling up in your chest said as much.
You descended the last step with a hitch, almost losing your shit within a foot of the landing, when Bucky scooped you up in his arms and held on tight. His lips were at your ear in a second, breaths coming in quick.
âHell, Iâll give you one right here, honey,â he sneered before flipping you back around to face him.
He pressed you flush to the wrought iron railing, then over it, pushing you back bit-by-bit until you had no choice but to jump and latch your legs around his hips.
âJames Buchanan Barnes, if you donâtââ
âGive you a baby right now?â
ââget off of me!â You were laughing now, squirming when he nipped at the space just below your ear.
One more second and he mightâve convinced you. Your Bucky was persuasive like that, too smug and self-assured for his own good but one hell of an advocate when he wanted to be. At length, he opened his mouth to take an even bigger, teasing bite, when a voice cut in,
âBarnes.â
He stopped. You froze. Together, you reluctantly turned your heads in the direction of the sound and found a keystone conference table situated at the far end of the roomâseating a dozen-odd faces with identical, muted expressions of surprise. Mild discomfort, for some.
Wild discomfort for your mother and father, you saw.
Bucky set you down and simultaneously yanked the hem of your dress back into place. Flashed a smile for the ages and snaked an arm around your waist as he started to lead you over.
âNat! Hi,â he tried, far too casual, âLong time no see.â
You bit the inside of your cheek hard and hoped like hell your husband had remembered to zip up his pants.
The woman at the head of the tableâthe source of the voice youâd heardâraised a brow. One cherry-red curl from her sleek, cropped bob threatened to fall out of place as she tilted her face to regard you both. The smile Bucky proffered had done nothing to repair her glare.
Some wordless exchange passed between the two of them, and next, you felt a hand directing you to a seat across the wayâSteve. Smug as ever. Smirking just then.
The empty chair beside your mother. The horror.
You were dimly aware of some introductions being made on your behalf and a round of awkward, disjointed congratulations around the table. Greetings from Nat, Sam, Steveâconceited little shitâa few you knew as Buckyâs groomsmen, a couple members of the security detail, and several more friendly, unfamiliar faces, including a smartly dressed blond named Sharon. Your husband had taken a seat by the latter at the end of the table.
âMomma.â You werenât sure why you felt the need to whisper when the attention had turned back to Natasha and other matters, but you did, âWhere have you been?â
Your mother and father were perched in their chairs like prisoners. There were no shackles to be seen but an air of discomfiture and compulsion bound to their every feature. You couldnât be sure if it was humiliation on your behalfâthey had just witnessed their son-in-law promise to put a baby in you for all present to hearâor something more.
For once in your life, you hoped it was just the prudish, sex-averse tendencies of the two rendering them silent.
You tried your mother again when she hadnât responded.
âMomma.â
âNow is not the time.â
Her voice was clipped. Abrasive.
You knew better than to test that tone another time. You sank back in your seat and let your gaze roam the table, flitting between your father and Bucky a few more times than it probably should have. Surely, your dad, who had screwed Bucky over to hell and back, obliterated your wedding, and jeopardized your lives for a few more million in his pocket would have warranted some sidelong, hateful look from your husband. A glance or a stare, certainly something to show that he knew, and hadnât forgotten.
NoâBucky was occupied with Sharon at the moment.
You watched your father twist his signet ring on his pinky, jerking the gold back and forth as if hoping for it to break, or save him. He didnât look at Bucky, either.
âNatasha Romanoff is the Barnesâ retained legal talent for all things maritime crime and narcotics trade-related. Some estate planning, too,â a voice rumbled beside you.
You made a low âHmâ to feign understanding of whatever the fuck Steve had just said, and nodded.
Then, when your eyes wandered left again,
âSharon Carter, criminal liaison and kingpin informant. Been in bed with the Barnesâ as long as I can remember.â
He really couldnât have used a worse string of words if he had tried. You cocked your head just slightly and stared at the pair. You considered holding your tongue.
âAnd sheâs been in bed with Bucky how often before?â Youâd decided against self-restraint for the time being.
Steve blinked a little harder.
âWhat do yââ
âIâm not asking if, but when, they fucked,â you interrupted.
Steve blinked again, as if to clear a string of cobwebs from his eyes, and couldnât quite find the words to answer your question. Either the truth or some half-baked crock of bullshitâthere was no in between.
âOnce,â he answered, at length. Honest.
You figured as much.
In any other situation where you were faced with one of Buckyâs former fuckbuddies, you probably wouldâve felt more than a twinge of jealousy. Mightâve even cast a dark look in the girlâs direction and willed her not to even breathe the same air as him. Then you remembered you werenât fourteen years old and could behave with some modicum of maturity when it came to some old flame of your husband. They werenât even sitting that close.
You winced when Bucky gave her shoulder a playful squeeze, though. That facial tic you couldnât control.
âSo to recap,â Natasha announced, having just plodded through a few dull formalities up front, âBarnes got the intercom call from SchrĂśder at 1500 hours, Friday.â
Every head nodded.
âSchrĂśder gave Barnes exactly ninety-six hours to recover the $90 million lost in theâŚmishap, in Brooklynââ Natashaâs eyes flickered to your father no longer than a second, ââand today is Monday. We have twenty-four hours to come up with the funds, or face theâŚpenalties of SchrĂśderâs exploding offer. Whatever those may be.â
You knew what âthoseâ were. Ms. Romanoff was either too kind or too diplomatic to say it, you reckoned, but the threat Joey SchrĂśder had made to Bucky had been patently clear: procure the cash or your wifeâs family dies.
That was why youâd been so surprised to see your mother and father seated at the table that morningâSchrĂśder had further stipulated that there was to be no contact between you and your parents in the time it took to come up with the money. Youâd been completely cut off, in the Alps, since the day of the attack, left to wonder without reprieve whether HYDRAâs bloodless henchmen had taken hostages of your parents, let them abscond to Brooklyn, or simply killed them both and sent the rest of you all on a wild goose chase to get hold of the money.
Now if theyâd only had sex once, why was she looking at him like that?âThe intruding thought couldnât be helped when you peered over againâSurely the most platonic and professional working relationships didnât call for looks like that.
Shut the fuck up. Shut the entire fuck up, please.
The lives of those closest to you were on the line and all you could think now was how well you compared to this random woman in giving Bucky head? Brain fucking rot.
You scrunched your nose and turned back to Natasha.
ââŚand up until this morning, SchrĂśderâs whereabouts were unknown,â she continued, careful as she spoke.
It seemed that part had caught Buckyâs attention, too, because he was tilting his head away from Sharon and shifting his gaze to the woman at the head of the table.
âAnd now?â he cut in.
âIâm getting there, James.â
Sharon smiled a little at that, tracing her nail on the notepad in front of her. She muttered something to Bucky, who disregarded her remark entirely.
âDo we know where SchrĂśder is?â he barked.
Across the table, Sam shifted in his seat. He glanced to Natasha, then Sharon.
âI believe we have modestly reliable intelââ he began, only to have his speech mowed over by an impatient, increasingly irate Bucky.
âNo. Noâ we donât do âmodestly reliableâ for this, Sam. We either know where the fuck the guy is or we donât.â
That last fragment seemed to hang in the air a couple seconds longer than needed, and a tense silence fell over the table. It took a new voiceâone you hadnât heard much at all yourselfâto reignite the conversation.
âI know it,â Sharon said, âI know heâs in Madripoor.â
Madripoor? The make-believe safe haven for terrorists? You couldnât tell if she was kidding at first. Then Bucky flitted a look to the side, and his expression was grave. Natashaâs, too. Maybe there was a Madripoor after all.
âOr he will be there, most likely, tomorrow night,â Steve interjected. The hands that had been folded neatly in front of him were now tapping a light and mindless beat on the table, âHeâs got the Foxy Den rented out for aâŚthing.â
Bucky rolled his eyes.
âWhere else but a titty bar would Joey host his âthingsâ?â he muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear.
So Madripoor was real, and it had strip clubs. Wonderful.
It seemed Natasha was keen to regain control of the conversation, because she presently broke in,
âKeep in mind that time is of the essenceâa private flight from here to the Indonesian archipelago is sixteen hours minimum. We most likely canât afford to fly private, bââ
âSince when the fuck canât I afford to fly private?â Bucky spat.
You hated how short and plainly nasty he was being to all those around him. If you hadnât known any better, you mightâve thought these folks were at fault somehow, but they werenât. Your father, the real culprit, was sitting right under Buckyâs nose, and he wouldnât even look in his general direction. Your husband flared his nostrils with a new surge of indignation, and Sharon patted his hand.
âSheâs not talking finances, bub,â the blond started, âSheâs saying your jet is on a no-fly list, we donât have time to charter a new plane, and thereâs a hefty fucking bounty on your head if you ever set foot in Madripoor. We need to get you on a commercial flight, undercover.â
âFuck that.â Buckyâs response was reflexive. He rose fast.
If your parents could have appeared any more stiff and uncomfortable you might have mistaken them for two charming, thoroughly terrified wax figures. Your father continued to fiddle with his ring as he watched Bucky.
Natasha tensed as well. As soon as Bucky was up on his feet, pacing around at the end of the table, she was urging him to relax, Buck, this isnât anything we havenât done beforeâsit down, please. Bucky didnât sit, and he most certainly didnât relax, but he did kick a stool across the room.
âI am not going back to that shithole.â
The stool tumbled onto its side, one leg splintered in half. You made a mental note to look into some anger management classes. Your parents, along with most of the table, flinched at the crashing sound, while your husband stood, supremely agitated, and did not even regard the broken chair. He turned away from Natasha.
âYeah, well, that âshitholeâ is our only hope of getting SchrĂśder behind bars and you out of custody, Bucky,â Natasha called as he started to pace away.
âThe fuckâs that supposed to mean?â
Bucky tilted his head to the side. He contemplated snagging a bottle of Macallan 25 off the bar cart by the window but decided against it.
âHave you been listening to a word of what Iâve said all weekend?â Natasha returned, almost as biting, âTurned on MSNBC or CNN or any other news outlet in the last forty-eighty hours?â
She dropped her own notepad on the table and scanned the area in search of something else. Sam and Steve took that as their opportunity to jump in.
âBucky,â Sam started, calmly, âThere were over a dozen foreign attachĂŠs and two heads of State at your wedding, half of whom are now being hospitalized for injuries they sustained in the attack.â
âSo?â Bucky snapped.
His eyes were already trailing back to the cart.
âSo you think the U.N. Security Council was just gonna let that slide?â
âTwo-thirds of its members have been up in arms, practically chomping at the bit to get someone pinned for the fucking thingâthat leaves you or SchrĂśder on the chopping block,â Steve chimed in.
âSo one more federal probe. Whatâs the big deal?â Bucky hardly realized heâd taken a tumbler in his hands.
Just as heâd turned to pour himself a drink, guided more by bare muscle memory than anything else, Natasha raised a manila folderâthe item sheâd been looking for. Heâd filled his glass half full when the folder was flung his way like a frisbee. He narrowly saved himself a papercutâor tenâby ducking his head, almost spilling his drink.
âThe fuck, Nat?!â he bellowed.
âExtradition, Bucky. Search warrants for your Brooklyn residence, all your money service businesses up the Eastern Seaboard, and a whole hell of a lot of other financial records that we do not need dredged up in this mess.â Natasha pointed to the folder on the floor, which had just spilled a litany of documents at his feet.
âLet them.â Bucky wasnât fazed by the warrants, walking over them as he drank, âIâm not going to Madripoor."
This time, it was Sharon's turn to roll her eyes as she swiveled in her chair to face Bucky. She was turned from you now, but you could almost smell the smug, knowing look she raked over your husband as she uncrossed her legs and leaned back.
"We don't have time for this," she said, coolly, "If you have any hopes of getting the Counter-Terrorism Committee off your ass and SchrĂśder in custody, you'll listen to Nat."
Bucky paused, weighing her words in his mind before meeting her gaze again. He brought his glass to his lips and drained it.
Then, perhaps feeling a bit emboldened by the idea that she was the only one to have shut Bucky upâto have made him listen, as it wereâSharon piped up again. You didn't need to see her face to know for certain there was a smirk etched across it,
"Don't look so glum, honey. We have no choice here."
It startled every last soul at that table, yourself included and Sharon especially, when the cup in Bucky's hand sailed across the room and shattered on the edge of a cabinet close by. Before the glass had so much as splintered and scattered half of its jagged shards along the floor, your husband was stalking, then stopping, then looming over Sharon with an implacably dour look. And a jaw set tight as you'd ever seen it.
"My choice," he seethed, so low the words almost came out in a murmur, "is to protect my wife. Whatever you, or Natasha, or anyone else has in mind comes second to that. Do you understand?"
Sharon nodded that she did.
A hushed silence fell over the room once more, only now its duration was greater, and the cause of itâyour red-faced, fuming husbandâhad turned his back to the group and was retrieving from the bar cart another glass. Another drink. Natasha followed his path with a vigilant eye.
"Bucky," she said.
Bucky didn't answer. Filled his new glass to the brim.
"Bucky," Natasha tried with a little more volume and vigor.
Your husband lifted the cup to his mouth and started to guzzle, against every shrill and helpless plea from his liver, you guessed. You wanted to object, to take leave of your seat as quick as you could and knock the thing out of his hand before he could finish, but Natasha had you beatânot with any physical act but a word to slow him down: "Barnes."
Then, a few more to get him to stop entirely:
"Look. Over there."
She pointed to a slip of paper somewhere at the top of the shuffle.
Bucky shifted his gaze to the floor. You saw him lick both corners of his mouth, bathed in whiskey residuum and a light, nascent spatter of stubble. He looked almost menacing in spite of the grin that kicked up.
"What's this?" he murmured.
"The terms of SchrĂśder's newest offer. The one he made this morning."
Bucky's second glass was discarded in an instant.
He dropped to his knees, seized the paper in his hands and pored over the bare, 11-point Times New Roman typeface like it was the single most precious set of words in the world to him. There were several mountains of text, and you sensed he couldn't begin to under the legal jargon with just one cursory look.
"What? What's'it mean?" Bucky wouldn't tear his gaze away, even as he shouted to Natasha.
Your own eyes probably should've been fixed on Bucky, or in your lap, or out the window, reflecting in silence on what the fuck could be going on and why it felt as though things were suddenly coming to a perilous head. Instead, you pivoted to Natasha. Her face was tilted to you.
Then she spoke to Bucky, still crouched on the floor a few feet away from her, but she kept her focus on you. She spoke carefully.
"SchrĂśder won't take the money, Bucky."
"What?"
Bucky's gaze combed over the page, desperate to make sense of what was printed in front of himâ"The hell's this all mean, Nat, tell me what it means and what he wants, for fuck's sake."âand he flipped the document. Read some more. His eyes flitted from line to line in a full-blown terror.
Then the eyes stopped in one spot.
Bucky stood.
Fisting the letter in one hand and making a wild, inarticulate gesture with the other, he probably could've seared a hole in Natasha's head with the force of his stare. She refused to meet it.
"This is a joke, isn't it?"
All of a sudden, your father leaned over your mother to you,
"We can make it work. We can keep youâ"
"Hey. Don't talk to her. Don't fuckin' look at her. Is thisâ"
"âsafe. We'll keep you safe, darling, I swear."
"âsome kind of sick fucking joke?!"
You stared at your dad in disbelief. Bewilderment. Then you chanced a look at Bucky, who had all but gone blue in the face as he approached your father from the opposite end of the table, letter still crushed in his hand.
Your father averted his gaze.
He knew.
You saw him flick the gold signet on his pinky once more, and for reasons you didn't yet understand yourself, you couldn't look away from it, or him.
Surely this scared-shitless son of a bitch could speak to you now. He'd have to. There was no way he wouldn't when the problem was staring him right in the face and his son-in-law was practically apoplectic with rage in front of him.
Something clicked in Bucky's brain.
He knew.
Your husbandâs breath caught with the full weight of the realization, and he blinked. He didnât hesitate; he simply sidestepped Sam and Steveâwho had stood as soon as they saw the look of understanding cross over his faceâand he seized your father. You heard a scream, most likely from your mother, and you saw Bucky swing, but the act barely registered as real until his fist first cracked against your dadâs skull. Again. And again. And again.
Somewhere in the raucous din and sounds of punches, kicks, and muffled groans, a discharge of blood, and the dim recognition that some of the stuff was dousing you, too, you managed to make out several words, disjointed:
ââFUCKING KILL YOUâSOLD HERâSOLD HER?!â
Roleplay was funâeven vital for a marriage like yours.
Only instead of assuming the role of sexy masseuse, strong and strapping CEO, hands-on handyman, or some naughty professor with a knack for after-class punishment, Bucky got to play a bloodlusting assassin.
âWinter Soldierâ didnât have quite the same ring as most pornographic tropes, it was true, but it was an alter-ego heâd been given from his earliest days as a made man. A caricature of himself that was to represent everything he did and was capable of doing in places like Madripoor.
You didnât know that side. You didnât like that side.
It was Bucky, and it wasnâtâpummeling your fatherâs face in the ground after learning that he had offered you up, again, in satisfaction of a debt. Sparing no feelings when he spoke to Natasha, Sam, Steve, Sharon, or anyone, making clear his wifeâs safety was paramount.
Maybe you were meant to feel proud. Or flattered. Or safe. But oddly, the longer youâd stared at the bloodied, bruised fist he held above your fatherâs face and the half-deranged look of anger on his own, the more you began to wonder if the fury was for your protection, or simply a knee-jerk response to the thought of losing a possession. A mere object that he couldnât bear to part ways with.
You had thought long and hard about where the Soldier stopped and Bucky began. No matter where you landed, you were far from comfortable with the conclusion.
Now, even as you stood two feet away from the man in an upper-level lounge of the Foxy Den, roughly half a day removed from the whirlwind turn of events that almost sent your father to hospital, you hardly knew what to say.
âZip me up?â
The closest thing youâd had to conversation in hours. Bucky obliged.
You viewed your new dress in the mirror from the side and made a face. Pretended to examine the tight black number but were really just zeroing in on the sight of Buckyâs knuckles as he dragged the zip up your back. He hadnât bothered to mend his hands, and you hadnât thought to offer to bandage them up. You tried not to stare.
The hands paused at the top of your dress and froze.
Then crept back slowly, taking the zip along with it.
âWannaâ?â
âBucky!â
One low groan, followed by a palm to his worn and wearied face. When you spun around, he didnât move.
âAre you serious?â you bit.
âWill you talk to me now?â Bucky retorted.
To be fair, neither he nor his Winter Soldier persona knew how to solve the silent treatment from a pissed-off wife. This was brand new territoryâbeing ignored for hours on endâand frankly, he had thought a playful request for sex might make you more amenable to conversation.
He had thought wrong.
You stared daggers at his handsome face and raised a finger as though to warn him, then stopped. Opened your mouth as if to speak, then appeared to decide against it. A steady, pulsing bass from the floors below was all that could be heard, and momentarily, you were reminded of why you were all here in the first place:
Locate SchrĂśder. Corner SchrĂśder. Capture SchrĂśder. Bring the bad man to justiceâor else just pump the motherfuckerâs head full of lead and be done with it.
You werenât too familiar with the particulars of the plan, but that had seemed to be the heart of it. Bucky never intended for you to stray from the safety of the lounge upstairs, where half of his team were casing the club through dozens of surveillance cameras, and he would likely take off with Sam and Steve the second youâd finished dressing. Now would be the time to talk.
And you planned to. Eventually.
For now, though, youâd let him sweat it out.
You had long envied women with effortless sex appeal and charisma. The kind that seemed to be made for the stage, capable of transfixing any audience, or individual, with little more than their aura alone. Youâd never felt a fraction of that allure emanate from yourself before, personally, but looking at Bucky now brought you as close as youâd ever been. He was enthralled by your every move, he was intrigued at all times, you could see.
He was visibly aroused before you had even touched him. You knew it was cruel and unkind before you were even fully conscious of what you were doing, but you did it.
Someone had to teach this man how to control his angerâand his urgesâsomehow. Who better than you?
You drew closer to Bucky until your fronts almost touched.
âBaby,â you murmured. Simple, nearly plaintive.
Bucky blanched. Could it be? Had his bullshit gambit actually paid off and made you want to talk, or possibly do more? His hands immediately went for your hips, but you were quick to shove them off. You poked one finger to his chest and shook your head.
âWe can talk,â you said, measured.
You pressed into his sternum and pretended not to see a short-lived look of defeat, followed by confusion, cross Buckyâs features. He let you walk him back a step or two.
âOkay. What about?â
Where the hell could you even begin?
âSit first,â you urged him.
It was then that he realized youâd been walking him toward the plush sectional couch behind himâa cozy little touch to the VIP room only marginally diminished by the fact that it was coated in liquor, coke, and glitter. Bucky sat down anyway.
You didnât follow, choosing instead to stand as you appeared toâŚscratch something on your back? Your husband looked on in muted curiosity as you reached behind yourself and tilted your torso just slightly.
Then he heard a zip. A hitch. Another, longer drag.
Bucky knew he was fucked before you ever slipped the dress off your body. You were to make quick work of it, eyes never leaving the man in front of you as you peeled the fabric down your legs and off of your frame entirely. When you were down to just your underwear, you hadnât even needed to see his face to know exactly where his gaze was likely to landâthis part was new to him. You kicked the dress aside and let him stare.
To be fair, it wasnât every day he got to see a Ruger LC9 strapped to your thigh. Hidden in plain sight now that you were stripped bare before him in just your bra, panties, and garter-like holster across the top of your leg.
âWhereâd you get that?â Bucky nearly choked, eyes wide.
âTJ Maxx,â you huffed, âWhere the fuck do you think?â
âI never said you couldâ And Sam and Steveââ
Bucky paused, suddenly aware of how indignant and stupid he was starting to sound. He had given orders to the rest of his team not to let you carry a gun under any circumstances, but here you were. If he werenât so violently aroused by the sight of you wearing the thing, he probably wouldâve been fuming.
âA couple guys from your security detail were kind enough to make an exception,â you smiled, words verging on smug, âAnd whoâs to say what I âcanâ and âcanâtâ do, hm?â
Bucky looked as though he were priming himself to stand when you lifted one stiletto to rest between his legs on the seat. A silent and quasi-sweet threat in one gesture.
âI didnât say you canâtâ wellââ Bucky faltered at the last.
âYou just said you never gave me permission!â You threw your hands up in exasperation, âThat doesnât sound very equitable to me, James.â
Bucky let out a frustrated sigh of his own.
âCâmon. You know what I mean, honeyâŚI justâŚwant to keep you safe. You know that.â
âSelf-defense is a pretty integral part of safety.â
âNo oneâs ever taught you to shoot!â
âYou never bothered to ask!â
This was getting a little too aggressive and Jerry Springer-eqsue for your liking. Not nearly sexy or seductive enough to be heading in the direction you wanted. Bucky always brought the bickering out of you, but you had to stay strong. Slow and steady and all that bullshit.
So, before he could respond to your last remark, you lowered yourself over him. Brought both legs to bracket his hips and hovered carefully in place above the bulge in his tactical pants. When he swallowed beneath you and raked his gaze over your body, you felt a twinge of relief.
You sank further down. Dragged your lower half over his own and earned a groan from deep within his throat. Again, his hands flew to your waist to get a good grip, but you pried them off before they could ever fully sink into the flesh.
âWhat?â Impatience palpable in Buckyâs tone.
âNo,â you answered simply.
âNo?â
âNo, you donât get to touch me. You donât own me.â
Your husband shifted under your body, hands helpless at his sides and masseter muscle visibly clenching beneath the skin as he gritted his teeth. He shook his head.
âI never said that I did,â he managed, after a pause, âBaby, I love you.â
âAnd beating the shit out of my dad was your special way of showing that?â
âThat wasnâtââ
âOr snapping at Natasha. And Sam. Steve. Sharon,â you added emphasis to the last name without really meaning to, and Bucky raised an eyebrow.
âYes. IâŚlost my temper, Iââ
âCouldnât control your anger. Or wouldnât. All because my dad made some stupid deal with a man and offered me up as collateral.â
âBecause Joey wants you for himself!â Bucky snapped, voice suddenly raised to a near-deafening pitch. He shifted his hips and inadvertently grazed the heat between your legs, drawing a subtle pinch in his brow at the friction, âThe deal your dad made was to give you over to SchrĂśder in satisfaction of his own fucking debtâyou think I was just gonna sit by and let that happen?!â
In spite of the animosity, you pressed your body to his even harder and watched him foldâif only slightly. He breathed a sharp inhale through his nose and flexed both his hands, as if wanting to make fists. However, he knew better than to move himself around at a time like this.
âWhat? Like the deal you made with him?â
Your words were clipped, almost cruel. You knew it would hit a nerve in Bucky, and sure enough, he met you right where you wanted him: enraged.
âThatâs fucking different,â he seethed, âI wouldâve paid your fatherâs debt withoutâ without anything in it for me.â
âBut you didnât, and you got me.â
âAnd I love you. I donât wanna lose you.â
The abrupt vulnerability in his voice was all but agony to hear. For a second, it seemed the anger had fledâor at least been eclipsed by some softer, sweeter shadeâonly for Bucky to blink again, shake his head, and wear that stupid, hardened look that said, âI am not losing this.â Your hands reached for his belt and started in on the zip.
âYou have a real fucked up way of showing love, James.â
To your surprise, Bucky let you continue, unhindered. Blue eyes meeting yours in a cold look.
âMakes two of us,â he mumbled, shrugging his boxers and trousers out of the way anyway.
That was probably true. No person in their right mind would think fucking their husband was the safest, most surefire way to let him know they were pissed at him, but both you and Bucky were working on communication skills, still. Youâd get to healthy, non-sex-fueled fights at some point.
As it was, Bucky was fumbling around your thighs, trying to pry them open even wider for better access through your panties. That you allowed, but the second he tried manhandling you over his crotch, you pushed back.
âI wanna do thisâ without your help,â you said, firm.
Somewhat begrudgingly, Bucky agreed. He let you line yourself up with his length, brace your weight against his shoulders, and when you paused, he made a soft, âHm?â and glanced down where you looked. Before you could remove the pistol from its holster, he set his palm atop the cool metal.
âLeave it,â he murmured.
His eyes flashed with desire. It was almost more than you could bear, despite the plain fact that riding someone with a firearm strapped to your thigh probably violated every NRA gun safety rule known to man. Whatever.
You lowered yourself onto Bucky, slow, and sucked in a quick breath as he filled you. Your husband groaned.
âFuck,â followed shortly thereafter, almost timid to crawl out of his mouth as you sank to a fully-seated position on top of him. He gripped the armrest beside him.
When your hips first stirred, you thought the man might burst a blood vessel trying not to move right along with you. You pressed a hand to his chest and reminded him, gently but with purpose: let me fucking do this, Bucky, and he relented. Fisting the couch cushion in something close to a death grip, he nodded his head and heaved a short breath and watched you all the while, grinding on him.
âMy prettyâŚpretty girl,â he managed through his teeth.
He was doing better than you expected. You watched his face contort with pleasure when you lifted yourself up to the tip of his cock and slide back down. You squeezed his shoulders, and you let out a low whimper yourself, and dammit all, you felt that pesky fucking knot already forming in the pit of your stomach. You glanced down and frowned, wanting this to last so much longer.
Fortunately, when your eyes found Buckyâs again, you got the sense that he was in the same boat as you: brow furrowed tight in concentration and lips parted slightly, panting in time with each one of your movements.
âBaby,â he said, the single word treading close to a plea. He paused, dropped a glance to the spot where your bodies were coupled, and swallowed. He cursed aloud, then continued, quietly, âBabyâŚâmâsorry.â
âSorry for what?â You bounced a bit faster.
âForâ fuckinâ hell, honeyâ for being aâŚdick.â The last part of his sentence was pierced by a grunt and a moan, but you heard it just the same.
You clenched around him and tried to keep steady. Manage a small, shit-eating grin above him, even.
âBeing a dick?â you repeated, pretending not to know what he meant. When his cock grazed over a particularly sensitive place inside you, you just swallowed the moan and kept going, fingers taking hold of some short tufts of hair at the back of Buckyâs head as you rode him.
âPossessive. Controlling. Kind of aââ Bucky paused to grunt when he bottomed out inside, hands aching to hold you, ââpiece of shit.â
Finally, you were getting somewhere. Not nearly close enough to cure the rage or the dark, grating impulses churning inside of him, but good enough, for now.
You reached for his hands and set them over your hips.
The next most natural thing was to lean down and kiss himâlet his tongue invade your mouth as soon as heâd caught your lips and show you, with a wordless and fast-moving show of affection, that he missed you. And meant what heâd said. With his hands moving quick to cup your cheeks, hold you to him while he kissed you and stroked deep inside your walls, he gripped you tighter than he had in a while. You could feel strips of tension and desperation bleed through his every fingertip.
âWannaâŚfuckinâ kill anyone who even thinksâŚofâ fuck,â Buckyâs words were almost slurred at this point, so close to the point of release it seemed every wild and wanton thought that crossed his mind was likely to dance off his tongue, unchecked. You loved to see him in it this deep.
You also had to remind the murderous alter ego that violence was not the answerâŚalways. You let him pull you closer, bodies pressed flush against each other while you fucked, but you made sure to tilt his chin up to yours so he could see the expression on your face as you spoke.
âHey,â you pinned him with one stern look, âNo murder.â
Bucky frowned.
âYes murder,â he retorted.
You sighed.
This shit was worse than teaching a dog not to bite.
Instead of pulling back or being strict this time, though, you decided youâd give positive reinforcement a try. You squeezed his short locks of hair, gently, and rolled your hips even tighter to his, eliciting a stuttered groan. You bounced up and down on his cock, pulled him into your chest, and brought your face within an inch of his.
âPromise to be good, and Iâll let you cum inside me,â you murmured into his lips. Not the wisest offer youâd made to date, but one that Bucky seemed to want more than the air in his lungs the second the words escaped you. He pulled you in for a kiss, immediately.
âFuck, you mean it?â he breathed, in between each sloppy, frenzied movement of his mouth.
âYeah,â you tried not to grin at how eager he seemed, âYouâre gonna apologize to everyone, right?â
âUh-huh.â
Bucky barely seemed to register anyone or anything but you and your pussy at the moment, yearning for the go-ahead to let himself free inside you. With a nod of your head, youâd let him start meeting your motions with gentle thrusts of his own, and both of you were teetering precariously close to the edge with that added pressure. In spite of both your hot and heady, near-anoetic states, you endeavored to hold out a little longer, legs aching.
âGonna try and talk to SchrĂśder first?â you panted.
Bucky rutted into you hard, lips twitching into a frown.
âDoesnâtâŚdeserve it,â he grunted, barely able to get the words out as he grabbed your hips and thrusted harder, âA fucking bullet between the eyes is what he needs.â
You eyed him soberly, or as serious as you could manage with the force of his strokes nearly sending you into a spiral. You fought back a moan and gripped him tighter.
âBucky.â
âBunny.â
Damn, that name.
âPromise me you wonât kill himâor anyoneâtonight.â
âBabyââ
âPromise.â
His thrusts were getting sloppier; with his hands hoisting you just above him and his cock practically drilling into you now, speech and coherent thought were some of the toughest things to accomplish, but he tried it, anyway. Bucky would swallow his pride and accede to his wife, no matter how fucking badly he wanted to cumâand kill that Russian mob boss with both his bare, bloody hands.
He could be better than the Winter Soldier. He would.
With a rough, labored breath, Bucky pulled you in for a kiss and felt you squeeze around his cock like a vice. Still thrusting, clutching you, kissing you hard, he saw both of your releases coming in fast and had to act even quicker.
âIâ I promise,â he stammered.
That was all either of you needed, or could bear, quite frankly. In the next second or two, you felt a cord snap in your lower half and a deep, punchy flurry of pleasure follow shortly thereafter, fingers sinking deep in Buckyâs shoulders as he bounced you on his cock and held you close. With your walls still pulsing around him, you felt him chase his own high at a breakneck pace, shooting his load inside you a moment later. It was bad, it was brash, it was a really fucking dumb idea to be playing around with the odds of making babies at a time like this, but it also felt good. Exhilarating, even, feeling him empty his balls in that space between your wet, aching walls and filling you up with his seed.
Maybe just one little mini-Bucky wouldnâtâ
STOP.
You barely had the energy to acknowledge, much less arbitrate that bone-crushing conflict between your brain and reproductive organs, so you shut the thoughts up with a quick, messy kiss to Bucky, whose chest was still heaving from the peak of his release, holding you to him.
âI love you.â
âI love you, too.â
Maybe even twoâ
FUCK YOU.
The internal war wouldnât go away that easy, it seemed.
You kissed Bucky long and hard regardless, hoping the shit would sort itself out before you really had to think. Or worry. Or plan. It was dumb and a bit short-sighted, but feeling that hot, erratic pulse between your legs did a pretty good job of making it seem just fine for right now.
Buckyâs expression was lax. Soaking in the feel of your cum-painted insides still squeezing around him, gently. Had he been anywhere but the heart of Low Town on a covert mission in a strip club, hunting down the head of HYDRA with a whole troupe of trained assassins, he probably wouldâve liked to stay that way a little longer. But, as it was, he could already hear folks filing in and out of the lounge, footfalls growing heavier as his team loaded up with guns, grenades, and whatever other weapons they could fit beneath their formal attire.
âDonât look so sad,â you said as you lifted off of Bucky. Carefully pulling your panties back into place as your husband watched you do it, practically forlorn.
âToo late,â he returned in half a groan, yanking his own clothes where they needed to be and trailing a look up your legs, âMight feel better if we tried it again, though.â
âI bet.â You pulled your dress over your head.
Your husband had just tightened his belt and was rolling his shoulders to get a knot out of his neck, it seemed.
âWhat are your thoughts on âBucky Jr.â?â he asked casually.
âDonât start with this shit.â
âJamie for a girl, maybe?â
âIâll kill you.â
Your baby talk and death threat tĂŞte-Ă -tĂŞte continued for quite some timeâjust a couple minutes, but they felt like years to youâand before long, you were rubbing the gun under your dress and casting a glare in Buckyâs direction, and he got the sense that it was time to head back to the group. He looped an arm around your waist and led you out into the main space.
The living room was little more than a makeshift headquarters at that point. Youâd been expecting to see more faces, but the only ones you found were Sam, Natasha, and a few silent, beefy individuals you assumed were part of security. Where Sharon and your parents had gotten off to was anyoneâs guess. You took a seat on the couch.
âAnything yet?â Bucky questioned, approaching the panel of surveillance screens with a wary eye.
âWeâve had intermittent visuals on the second floor for forty minutes or soââ Sam motioned to one screen on the left, ââbut SchrĂśder hasnât moved. Hasnât done anything but bullshit and booze and buy rounds for his group. Wonât even talk to the dancers, which is weird.â
From what youâd been told, the goal was to get SchrĂśder off the second floor, up to one particular private suite on fourth, then send in an agent dressed as a bottle girl to make entry as soon as the rest of the party had arrived, keeping in contact with HQ, and Sam, via PTT earpiece all the while. The details from that point were hazy, but youâd gotten the sense that someoneâor, more likely, a sizable and duly-equipped group of someonesâwas lying in wait somewhere in the suites surrounding them. Steve had been tasked with leading the incursion, though where he could be found, or whom he was with, remained largely a mystery to you. Recon in a bustling, crowded area with music blaring on all four sides was a formidable undertaking, and you could tell both Sam and Natasha had been having trouble keeping tabs on every player. They seemed on edge, monitoring the screens.
âWonât talk to the dancers?â Buckyâs brow pinched in.
âWonât talk to anyone outside of his inner circle,â Natasha said, grim, âWhich leads me to think heâs not staying here long. Probably called his associates in for a speedy-quick deal because he knows heâs being tailed.â
âHasnât engaged with any of our undercovers?â Bucky pressed.
Natasha and Sam shook their heads. Your husband groaned.
âThen how the hell are we getting him upstairs to the champagne room? If he hasnât budged and doesnât look like heâs planning to stay?â
The looks on the faces in front of him said there wasnât one readily available answerâor any answer at all. Bucky turned back to the screens and seemed to survey the whole panel, gaze cooling with the first inkling that this operation may be classed a failure in the very near future.
He barked some half-coherent babble about strategy, security, and failsafes, then barked for Steve.
And, as if on cue, Steve appeared at the threshold of the room a moment later, breathless and slightly flushed.
âRogers, youâre supposââ Sam started, eyes widening at something you couldnât quite discern from his arrival.
âI know, I know,â Steve cut in, fast, âWant the good news or bad news firââ
âJust spit it out,â Natasha said, preemptively unnerved.
âSchrĂśderâs headed to the suite right nowââ
Bucky raised both eyebrows at Steve as he continued.
ââbut they wonât let Wanda in.â
âFuckâ was the first audible word from your husband, then Sam, in short order. Wanda must have been the agent playing bottle girl upstairs. This didnât sound good.
âWhy the fuck wonât they let her in?â Bucky snapped.
âSomeone mightâve tipped his security off. Or else theyâre just being extra cautious about whoâs let in.â
Steve fiddled with one cufflink on his suit and tried not to appear too despondent, but the implications of this single event were huge, you could read on every face in the room. Wanda had been meant to do something important before the rest of the brigade mobilizedâtake some key step that couldnât be omitted from the plan.
âSo we retreat.â Natasha was not one to mince her words, per usual, âGet your guys out of the suites now.â
Buckyâs fingers twitched at his sides.
âNo,â he said, sharply, âWeâre not doing that.â
âBucky.â
âWeâll get someone in there. Weâll find another way.â
Your husband was already pacing the space in front of you, and you looked on with uncertain eyes. You chanced a look to Natasha, Sam, and Steve, all of whom shared similar, albeit slightly more wearied, expressions as they watched and murmured among themselves.
âNone of our people are getting up there, Barnes. SchrĂśderâs got a goddamn sixth sense about our agents or something,â Steve said, at length.
âTheyâre all in masksâfor a fucking masqueradeâand we canât get one person in?! In-and-out, thatâs all it needs to be,â Bucky growled.
âWe canât get in there, thatâs the point,â Sam sighed, âMasks or no masks, they know our people too well and wonât let us through.â
âWe can at least try, for Christâs sake. Thatâs what we came this whole fuckinâ way to do, right?â
When no one said a word in response, Bucky scowled,
âRight?â
There was a lull in the conversation that seemed to last for minutes, when, in reality, couldnât have been more than ten or fifteen seconds. Tensions were high. You could tell from the look in Buckyâs eye he was trying not to lash out as he normally would, but in no time at all, you saw a fractional break in his resolve. You feared he might fly off the handle, or else compromise something that couldnât be spared at a time like this. You swallowed.
âIâll go.â
It was stupid.
Every face turned to regard you as if you were stupid, you assumed as soon as the words had left your mouth.
But then, much to your surprise, Steve was perking up, eyes suddenly brighter as his gaze tilted to you.
âShe could,â he said, shortly.
âShould she?â Sam seemed to murmur at once.
âSure, why not?â
âI can think of plenty reasons why not,â Natasha was quick to counter, but beneath that pensive expression, you couldâve sworn you saw the smallest degree of contemplation. Even hope, from the looks of it.
âNOâ was Buckyâs wordless, immediate, and resounding answer as he kicked whatever furnitureâa footstool, this timeâwas closest to him and sent it flying toward the door. It seemed that self-control of his had worn off fast.
âNo,â he affirmed in a word a second later, jaw clenched, âShe is going nowhere near that suite.â
He didnât even spare you a glance while he spoke. He was too busy eyeing the others, Steve specifically, as his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths and a light, blooming tinge of pink rose the length of his neck. If it werenât for that staunch and menacing look on his face, he wouldâve almost looked cute, you mused to yourself.
But, pretty man be damned, you wouldnât stand for being ignored. Fuck that noise.
âI will,â you returned, a little more resolute this time.
Now Bucky had no choice but to pivot to you. His expression softened some, but not by much.
âNo,â he said, again.
âYes.â
âBabyââ
âDonât fucking âbabyâ me, Barnes. You said someone who wasnât an agent could make it up there, and I can do it. Or try, at least, like you just said.â
If your attention hadnât been fixed on your husband, you probably wouldâve caught sight of more than one thinly veiled smile from the group around you. Natasha, in particular, all but tickled to see someone stand up to Bucky and give him a taste of his own shitâand live to tell the tale. The sight of her bossâs eyes almost glossy in the first tender look sheâd seen from him in years was almost too much to bear. Steve stood grinning beside her, and Sam narrowly stifled an exhale of amusement. Neither you nor Bucky flinched from your positions.
âWe canât risk you being around him. Theyâre already all on high-alert,â your husband said after a calming breath.
âAs are all your trigger-happy comrades waiting just ten feet outside the door, right?â you replied, âWhat is it, like, five, ten of them in total?â
âTwenty,â Steve interjected. Bucky shot him a look.
âI donât care. I donât want you up there when that fucker was just trying toâ to kidnap you last week. Iâm notââ
âRight. Right. Trying to kidnap me, not kill me. If SchrĂśder wanted me dead, he wouldâve made pretty quick work of that before,â you cut in, tone a touch more deliberate, âEven if he sniffs me out, heâs not gonna screw this whole deal by hurting me now.â
But the mere suggestion of harm to you had seemed to raise every hair on its end for Bucky, and then he was shaking his head, evidently more stubborn than ever.
âNo, fuck. Donât start,â he snapped with his newfound indignation, then, quieter, âPleaseâŚdonât, honey.â
You wouldnât bow that easily.
âWhy not?â
Truly, Bucky couldnât be certain if it was the lilt in your voice, the pinch at the sides of your lips, or simply the sincerity consuming your eyes as you spoke to him, but the man could not stomach the thought of you, his own wife, being a stoneâs throw from mortal danger and beyond his protectionâor control, he wasnât sure which one of the two was more dominating. Some cruel and unforgiving knot inside him came to tighten, and twist, and, nauseating as it was set on escape, the white-hot surge rose like bile in his throat. Before he could stop it, the words were spilling out through his teeth like froth:
âCause I fuckinâ said so, thatâs why. Thatâs it. Itâs settled. Youâre not allowed anywhere near him, you hear me?â
What Bucky hadnât expected was the swift ascent back to your feet. The cool and almost careless expression as you rose, as though his words hadnât registered at all.
He certainly hadnât expected you to check him with your shoulder as you passed, knocking him slightly off-balance as he turned, in shock, and watched you give him one manicured middle finger over your left shoulder.
âRogers, Iâd like you to escort me upstairs.â
Worst of all, Bucky hadnât expected Steve to listen.
Fortunately for him, the night was still young and with it, more than ample opportunity to be proven wrong again. And again.
âAnd again,â Steve murmured low in your ear as you walked side-by-side down the corridor on fourth floor, âIf you get even the slightest bad feeling, you leave.â
âMight as well dip right now,â you muttered, adjusting your mask. Your attempt at humor fell flat with the man.
âIâm serious. Weâll be right outside and listening in from headquarters, but HYDRA is not a faction to fuck around with, or underestimateâas I assume you know by now.â
You did. Or would, eventually.
After the mask, you were busy trying to yank the back of your cocktail waitress dress to cover the full swell of your ass, not just the upper two-thirds. Unsurprisingly, it was a tougher task than you had been prepared to handle. Your new heels were tight and impossibly high, your new dress a mere scrap of pink fabric riddled with sequins and glitter, and your maskâholy fuck, were you glad Mardi Gras was not a year-round affair. Bucky had insisted on the fluffiest, stuffiest, full-face covering to ensure that no one would be able to recognize you, but in exchange for your anonymity, you had had to give up breathing, it seemed.
And then there was that vial of poison between your tits.
Sam had assured you that it was a nonlethal dose before handing it over; Steve had urged you, discreetly, to pour SchrĂśder two for good measure. Natasha had overheard the latter and threatened legal action if he ever tried killing a target without her permission. You hadnât spent much longer getting ready in the bathroom after that. Then youâd brushed past your husband the second youâd stepped out and strapped that last, semi-lethal âaccessoryâ to your bra before taking the lift upstairs.
As it turned out, you werenât able to escape him entirely.
While you walked with Steve, Bucky was in your ear.
Literallyâthe man was talking nonstop through your earpiece and clearly had no intention of shutting the fuck up anytime soon. You silently wondered if there was a way to adjust the volume on the gadget as you ambled along.
âHoney.â There was a slightly more mechanical buzz to Buckyâs voice over your private line. You ignored it.
âSo just find the cup heâs drinking from and pour the serum in?â you reiterated to Steve for the third time in the last ten minutes.
Your companion nodded, rattling off a few extra precautions while Buckyâs tone rang out a bit louder:
âHoney? You there?â
At last, you stuck your finger to the tiny flesh-colored device in your ear and snapped, âWhat?!â
âI love you.â
This fucker.
âI love you too. Youâre still high on my shit list, though,â you answered, low and begrudgingly.
âDid I hear âhit listâ? Youâre gonna let me tap that later?â
If you didnât have about fifteen different reasons to hate the manâs guts, you almost wouldâve chuckled. At length, you muttered a quiet, âKiss my ass, Barnes,â and turned back to Steve, who was just then leading you closer to a room roped off and marked âEXECUTIVE SUITE.â Your stomach did a flip as you paused around the corner.
âRight there. All you gotta do is knock and say a guy named Zemo sent you,â Steve spoke slowly, as if he were teaching arts and crafts to a five-year-old and not a woman about to embark on a high-risk sedation mission.
You nodded and took the silver tray from him carefully.
All the platter contained was an oversized bottle of Brut and a silver bucket, but damn if it didnât feel like you were carrying the world and some change on that thing. You shifted your weight from foot to foot and turned in the direction of the door just a few yards away.
The time for painstakingly descriptive instructions and pep talks was long past you now. You nodded to Steve one last time and started to wobble over.
The entryway was flanked by two muscle-bound men. You approached with a smile.
âHi. Zemo sent me.â
You didnât know who the fuck Zemo was.
You hoped they wouldnât ask, or notice how stilted and awkward youâd sounded just then. You swallowed a peach-sized lump in your throat and smiled again.
The one on the left grunted. The one on the right gave a nod. Without a word spoken between them, the former opened the door and made way for you to step over the threshold. You couldnât help but notice both with their eyes trained straight on your tits as you passed by.
There was no way that had just worked. No pat-downs or harrowing threats? Not a single, searing interrogation into your identity or what you might be there to do?
Men were dumb, you decided, far too easily deceived by a decent pair of titsâHYDRA security personnel or not.
But you already knew that. You stepped inside.
The fetid stench of half a dozen blazing cigars and booze spilled on every surface were the first to greet you. A wave of smoke, then a bone-jostling bum bum bum to the beat of what sounded like a Don Toliver song came next. You almost couldnât bear to make your feet move.
But then, shortly, you had to because a shrill, shimmer-doused beauty was waving you over toward the kitchen.
âBa-by!â she shrieked, gesture growing frantic, âBring it over!â
You walked with the tray out in front of you, careful with your steps across the sticky floor. When you made it over, where one other girl was stirring wildly at some concoction on the counter, you stopped, and had only to stand for a second longer, because the redhead that had beckoned you was taking the tray, setting it down, and grabbing something thin and pointy. Youâd barely even registered it as an ice pick until the thing was thrust in your face.
âCrush it up,â she ordered, one curt nod toward a block of ice nearby. Evidently not giving a shit who you were or where youâd come from either. You guessed Wanda had just gotten unlucky, or theyâd all stopped giving a fuck once SchrĂśderâs men had really started drinking.
And drinking they had been, as your eyes surveyed the scene. Half-naked women with fully-clothed men, dressed head to toe in the finest of suits that were probably soaked through to the bone with sweat and Stolichnaya. You almost shivered at the sight of all the masked, wildly gyrating pricks, fumbling desperately through one verse of âAfter Party.â You could vomit.
But where was your prick? That grimy little shit, Joey.
âBack of the room by the couch,â Bucky said, as if heâd read your mind.
Then a beat.
âWait. Shit. That isnât him. SchrĂśderâs over by the door.â
How many tall, lanky blonds could there be in this place? You cast a sweeping look across the room and received your answer in less than two shakes of a lambâs tailâthere were a shit ton of Joey lookalikes all around.
âCareful. Mr. SchrĂśderâs been on edge all night. Might bite your head off if you stare too long.â
The girl that was stirring had apparently caught you looking. She set the spoon aside and turned, but not before chancing a quick glance at the man Bucky had identified to you as your target. The man lifted his gaze.
You chipped away at the ice even faster.
Crush the shit, make a drink, pour the serum, and get it in him. Now. Donât draw his attention just yet, though.
Something in your head told you to steal another look. You knew it was a bad idea, but you went on and did it anywayâand fortunately, felt a wave of relief at seeing that heâd retreated somewhere back with his friends. The ice pick in your hands made it through the last block.
âIâll serve the shots, you bring the bottle to Mr. Pierce.â
Mr. Who?
âOne of SchrĂśderâs associates. Roll with it.â
It was Natashaâs voice now. Measured, but tense.
âHeâs the older gentlemen straight ahead. He probably ordered the champagne for him and the others.â
That was Sam. You could only imagine how all of them looked huddled around the surveillance panel with the transmitter to your earpiece being passed about from person to person. The grip Bucky mustâve had on his gun, or his switchblade, or whatever weapon he could seize to make himself feel a little less helpless. But he wasâas were you. And truthfully, there was nothing either one of you could do about that until SchrĂśder was in custody. This was the first step toward reaching that goal.
So you walked with the bottle, now bathed in a tub of ice. You tried to keep steady, but the staggering drunks all around were making that tough, to say the least.
When one man struck you straight in the chest, elbows jutting out as he danced, you stumbled back a step. Nearly lost the tray for half a second, then recovered.
Until the dipshit hit you again.
This time you truly almost sent the bottle sailing for the floor, grip slipping on the tray and knees buckling underneath you as the force of the blow set you back. You bit a quick, âFuck!â in the air, seized the platter twice as hard and braced your weight against something firm behind you. A shelf, a TV stand, or something. Maybe a half-wall if you were lucky enough not to have careened against some expensive piece of furniture. You sighed.
âEverything alright?â a voice rumbled behind you.
Or a person. Yeah, a person would be pretty fucking bad to bump into at a time like this. Your whole body froze.
You turned.
âYe-es sir. Yes, sir.â You quickly righted your tone the second you realized it was someone important.
Not SchrĂśder, but someone who seemed to be big-name enough; you just werenât sure who. The man smiled down at you from under his Venetian mask.
âIs this for me?â he nodded toward the tray, half-teasing.
You swallowed.
âAre you Mr. Pierce?â you asked.
The manâs grin stretched even wider.
âNope, Iâm Ward. but I can take you to Pierce.â
For the first time that night, your heart swelled with some promise. You thanked him quietly, gratefully, then made as if to follow him back through the crowd, when all of a sudden, you stopped. That heartfelt swelling in your chest halted right along with it. You almost dropped the tray.
âSchrĂśder!â Ward bellowed.
No, no, now you were actually going to lose your shit. There was no way in hell you were keeping a grip on this silver little plate any longer without crying or screaming or shitting your pretty, pink, sequin minidress right there. You almost shrieked when a hand reached for the tray.
âPierce got you doing all the heavy lifting, huh, honey? The bastard.â Even through his own ornate mask, you could tell Joey was grinningâglinting with conceit, as was his prerogative. He took the load off your hands.
âTake it easy now, heâs justââ
âStaring at your rack. Pull your top up, baby, please.â
The chatter in your ear had switched from Sam to Bucky at nearly lightning speed. You glanced down at your cleavage and tugged the fabric up quick, heart beating even faster underneath it.
In front of you, Joey SchrĂśder was all teeth. A gruesome spectacle in spite of its seemingly benevolent intentions, one smile could have turned your stomach sideways. And it didâyou wanted to throw up againâbut you knew you had bigger fish to fry, and evil mobsters to poison. You didnât flinch when SchrĂśder nudged you in the shoulder and made his way ahead, coaxing you to follow.
You didnât tense and didnât protest. Didnât blink when he led you straight through the party, around a few topless performers on poles, and into a backroom lounge.
In fact, your mind practically sang as he led you inside.
It was just every other nerve, muscle, and trembling tendon not under the immediate control of your brain that needed soothing. You couldâve sworn the men on the couches would see your legs shaking as soon as you trudged into the room and sniff you out on sight.
But if they had, they didnât show it.
No one moved when you entered, save for a few lopsided grins and tilts of happy, masked faces. Sizing you up. Drinking you in. Far too easily mistakable for a band of apex predators that had just caught wind of their next meal, and not a room full of sleazy Russian mobsters. You bit back your grating disgust with a smile.
âGot a present for ya, Pierce,â SchrĂśder announced.
A honey-blond head flecked with silver and white sat up from the sofa. Presumably the one whoâd ordered the champagne.
âOh yeah? Whatâd ya pay for her?â he returned, mouth curling up in a wicked smile.
Even above the booming music, you could make out peals of laughter as the men around you shared in some lewd, crude comments and several whispers exchanged between them. You wouldâve liked to grab your bottle by the neck and break it over the nearest patronâs head, but then you remembered yourself, and your mission. You stilled beside SchrĂśder and let them crack a few more tasteless jokes at your expense. SchrĂśder chuckled and set the tray down in front of a thoroughly amused Pierce.
Then he grabbed you by the waist.
âRight. I forgot to askâwhat is your price, sweetheart?â he said, swiftly pulling you up to his front.
Your hands flew to his chest reflexively. Your nose scrunched in a wince at the sound of an electric shout:
âGET HIM OFF OF HER!â
âBucky, hey, hey, we canât justââ
âNO! THATâS NOT PART OF THE FUCKING PLââ
The line went silent. You scratched at the space behind your ear, trying hard not to betray any pain on your face, or the fear for what might be going on downstairs.
Clearly, you failed on both fronts, because Joeyâs grip only tightened. He peered down at you, curious.
âYou deaf or somethinâ, sugar? Whatâs your price?â
You batted your eyes, momentarily struggling for words.
But then, somehow, you managed to choke out, stomach churning with bile:
âWhatever you want, sir.â
You felt your soul drain out through the soles of your shoes as youâd said it. Something fell from your faceâmost likely a light behind your eyes and any semblance of self-worth as you stood before the man who had tried to buy you, drug you, and kill half your family, and then pretend like you wanted to dance for him, or do more.
It wasnât real.
It wasnât right by any means, but it was all just roleplay.
Roleplay.
You had to keep telling yourself that as you let SchrĂśderâs hand glide up your spine and grip the back of your neck, tilting your head up to his. It was just like your husband and his cold-blooded Winter Soldier persona, you tried to convince the increasingly frightened voice in your mind. Just like him, just like your sweet and soft and sadisticâ
âBucky,â you whispered unconsciously.
You knew he couldnât hear you now. It was almost insane to think anyone could save you now but yourself.
âWhat?â Joey exhaled sharply.
You froze in fear.
âFive hundred bucks,â you corrected your error quickly.
You werenât sure SchrĂśder was convinced.
âFive hundred bucks for one lap dance and some fun?â he scoffed. Then he squeezed your neck a little tighter and drew your face within an inch of his own. You could feel the hot puffs of breath, smell the rancid liquor on his tongue, but you stayed where he held you in place and tried not to grimace when he said, âThatâs a damn steal.â
Your lips were shaking something awful under your mask. You couldnât even begin to imagine what kissing this vile, soulless bastard would taste like, but you feared it might come sooner than you knew, because Joey was drawing you even more rough and tight into his chest.
Just when your mouth was less than a hairâs breadth away from his, though, you heard a womanâs scream.
Then another. And another. And another.
Before long, almost half the suite had erupted in shrieks, it seemed, and the sounds of their horror were shortly supplanted by a series of explosions. And gunfire.
Johann SchrĂśder dropped your body like the worst habit known to man and went bounding away from the turmoil as fast as he could. This time, you did trip over your heels and took a nasty little nosedive to the ground. Fumbling, crawling, then sliding across the shag carpet on your belly with your eyes in wild search of somewhere to hide.
You spotted a coffee table and muscled your way over.
âSCHRĂDER!â a voice roared from somewhere behind.
Again, you knew better than to look, but the fear of not knowing who, or what, might be barreling your direction at any second outweighed more sensible considerations. You stole a look over your shoulder and nearly screamed.
A man with a pitch black balaclava stormed into the lounge and wasted no time setting sights on his intended targetâraising a Heckler & Koch MP7A1 submachine gun to his face and firing the second the impulse struck.
You watched a once-handsome, lively, and drunk man turn to shredded, fleshy carnage in less than an instant and fall right beside your head with a thud. Your hand was your only defense to keep the shriek inside your chest, but even that blockade was crumbling fast as the blood-soaked assassin wrenched the body in the air.
The gunman tore the mask from his victimâs head and inspected the faceâor what was left of it. He cursed.
You could tell from your close proximity to the blues of his eyes, and that sigh, you wouldnât need to ask at all. You just sat there and stared, knees hugged to your chest as Bucky threw the body back down as hard as he could.
âFUCK!â he bellowed, voice flooded with rage.
Steve stumbled in with his gun at the ready. He eyed the man on the floor, then you, then a dozen other flailing, desperate partygoers trying to escape the suite all around you. You just drew in even tighter to the table.
âWhat happened?! Whereâd he go?â
Rogers, like you, seemed unable to look away from the carcass, but for entirely different reasons. He appeared to be studying it just as your husband had been.
âItâs not SchrĂśder!â Bucky yelled.
âWhere the fuckâs heâ shit.â
Suddenly, an unknown assailant opened fire on the two men from the opposite end of the room. Both dove for cover, but not before Bucky grabbed you and dragged you, full-force, behind the sofa. It didnât seem there was time for sweet words or consolations, his eyes wide and half-crazed as they bore into yours just in front of you.
âDonât move,â he barked, readjusting his grip on his gun in one hand and feeling around all over your sides with the other. On seeing and feeling no trauma, he nodded his head and moved his hand to your cheek, just briefly.
âHoney, I need you hereâright here for me, alright? Donât move a muscle,â he spoke low as Steve covered from above, rapid-fire shots ringing out on both sides.
Rushed and furious as he was, he couldnât help but linger on that face a half-second longer than he intended. You were shaking your head and hugging your knees, meeting his eyes with what seemed to be reproach.
âYou promised, Bucky,â you hissed through gritted teeth.
You were in shock, that was what it was, he kept telling himself. You didnât know what you were saying, and he needed to turn away to help Steve, but then you were eyeing that bodyâthat man he couldâve sworn was SchrĂśder when heâd pumped him full of bulletsâand you were turning back to him with unmistakable disgust.
He wouldâve fallen to his knees and begged his wife for forgiveness if there werenât more pressing matters at hand. Like your life and his, and Steveâsâand Samâs, now, bursting onto the scene with a semi-automatic rifle of his own as he helped his friend gun down the last of the stragglers. Bucky knew he had to help them, too.
So heâd stumbled back on his feet, less conscious than acting on pure impulse, and he joined in on the gunfire.
He reckoned he liked it. However long it lasted. He just rolled his shoulders once and sent the rounds flying; he ducked and he moved and he stood and he crouched and he fired every shot as if it were as easy to him as breathing. He didnât think. When the three of them had cleared the lounge, and Sam and Steve tore off toward the two or three remaining rooms at the rear of the suite, Bucky still wasnât fully present in his body. All he knew was that his clip was near-empty and his side was in painâand the room they had emptied was safe. For you.
For youâwhere the fuck had you gone?!
Bucky barreled past the spot behind the couch where you were supposed to have been, but werenât, and made a beeline for the closest room over. And nothing. More empty, threadbare, and bloody rooms filled with bodies that didnât belong to you, and shortly he was yelling for Sam or Steve or anyone in that massacred suite to help him find his wife. The breaths in his chest were heaving.
He turned once, twice, eyes roaming wildly and hand grabbing fast for more ammo. He couldnât find any more. Beads of sweat began to collect on his brow, and just when he turned to call for backup once more, he paused.
In his periphery, he saw two forms.
He stopped fully and turned to the side.
If it was fear he had felt just then, he wasnât aware of it. Instead, it seemed a white-hot and blinding ire had taken over, and rather than grow timid, or afraid, he went cold.
âBuckyâŚdonât,â you managed in a strangled, hoarse tone, throat visibly contained by a blade being held to it.
Behind you, a man stood masked and unflinchingly calm.
Bucky knew that wouldnât doâno matter how hard or helplessly you pleaded with him then not to do it, please donât do it, Bucky, please. All he heard in his head was the throb of his pulse, and all he saw before him was red.
He fired without a second thought.
The round just grazed the edge of the manâs cheek.
Bucky swore. Tried to fire his gun again. It was empty.
Still not thinking, much less hearing his wifeâs desperate cries for him to spare the manâs life, he grabbed the smallest, sharpest object that was closest to him and charged your would-be attacker head on.
Both men fell to the floor, but only Bucky was mobile.
Only Bucky held the weapon now, as his opponentâs knife had been lost somewhere in the skirmish, and he was wielding it now faster than he ever had before, he thoughtâan ice pick, of all fucking thingsâdriving it into the manâs face and neck and chest without the slightest regard for anything else.
Somewhere far outside his mind, he heard you scream. Felt you claw at his arm, grip at his shirt, make some wild, shrill, and vehement pleas that he couldnât begin to understand in this state, and he continued. Hadnât even considered slowing down until the manâs carotid was shredded in two and spewing blood all over his front.
Bucky couldnât be sure how long it lasted like that; all he remembered was stumbling back, energy spent, fist still holding the pick and eyes duly glued to the body heâd just stabbed through and maimed until no life was left.
He saw you crawl over the body.
He wanted to warn you not to touch it. Lifted a hand and tried his best to form words, but nothing came out.
He watched you lift the mask.
From that point on, he was certain he had to have been seeing things that werenât really there. Trauma-induced psychosis, he tried to assuage himself silentlyâthat was the only explanation for the scene unfolding before him. Surely it couldnât be you cupping that face, pinching that skin, shaking that cold and lifeless, blood-drenched frame beneath you as a sob racked through your own.
That signet ring on a pinky couldnât have been real.
Bucky didnât want to believe that gruesome discovery made manifest before himâin many ways, he couldnâtâbut then it was painted clear as day as the cries endured, nothing changed, and a helpless, frantic wail rang out:
âDAD!â
â
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#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#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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my love if i may request a whiskey with dbf!joel or dbf!bucky with the prompt âiâve wanted this for so longâ and mayhaps if itâs not too much to ask for but some breeding kinkđđđťđđť
Promises, Promises.
warnings - smut. cursing.
I figured I'd make this dbf!bucky, because i've done a dbf!joel fic for this celebration already. y'all, I read the words dad's best friend and go fucking feral. this one got away from me.
3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.
You're the last person Bucky expected to be at his front door at 3am.
"What's wrong, honey?"
"Locked myself out of my goddamn house, and my parents are still on vacation. Can I crash here tonight? Please?"
Who is he to turn down an offer that tempting?
"Course. Come on, it's too cold for you to be stood out here."
The two of you sit down on his couch, settling in to watch some TV.
"Bucky Barnes. Are you watching a romcom?"
He blushes, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks.
"If you tell anyone, I'll kill you. They're my guilty pleasure."
"It makes me like you more, if anything," you grin. He can't help but smile back at you, less embarrassed now.
"Look, my love life is fuckin' terrible. I live vicariously through these cheesy films right now."
"You? Terrible love life? Those two phrases don't usually go in the same sentence."
You're teasing him. Seeing if you can get a rise, hit the right button.
"Oh, shut it. Just because you're on a new date every week."
"I'm... what?"
"Your Dad seems to think you're dating a lot."
You quirk a brow at him, amusement curling at the corners of your lips.
"Is that so?"
"I'm only telling you what I've heard, honey."
He crosses his arms across his chest, biceps threatening to break free from the confines of his t shirt.
"He's wrong."
"Is that so?"
You roll your eyes.
"I have a friend, he's a guy. My Dad automatically assumes we're dating because we hang out. But we're not."
"And why not?"
"I don't know, I guess he's just..." you debate your answer, realising it's now or never. "He's not old enough for me. Not mature enough."
Bucky bites his lip, eyes scanning your face.
"He's your age."
"Exactly. Boys my age don't know shit."
He laughs, but it's dark and low, something brewing beneath the surface.
"You always were too smart for your own good, huh?"
Bucky's thigh is pressing into yours, the warmth from his skin seeping through. His rough fingertips glide across your arm, slow and soft. He's testing the waters.
"I shouldn't want this," he murmurs, barely audible. "Neither should you."
"But I do," you whisper. "So fucking bad."
"Me too."
Bucky grabs the back of your neck, smashing his lips to yours. You grip at his hair, his biceps, his shirt - anything you can get a hold of. You feel like you're dreaming, your filthiest thoughts coming into fruition.
He pulls you into his lap so you're straddling his hips, grinding down and panting into his mouth. You're both breathless, but neither of you want to be the first to pull away.
Bucky rips your shirt over your head, instantly attacking your chest with kisses. He's marking you up, claiming you as his. You should be worried about the repercussions, but you're not.
You pull his shirt off and rake your nails down his front, grinning when he shivers. Suddenly, Bucky stands up, setting you on your feet.
"Strip."
You blink at him, processing.
"Strip, baby. I won't tell you again."
You shimmy your pants down your legs, your underwear going too. Your mouth waters as you watch him undress, admiring the angles and smooth ridges of him. A Greek God.
Bucky stalks over to you and hooks a foot behind your ankle, sending you both flying onto the rug on the floor. He cushions your fall, not letting go of you once. Running two fingers through your wet heat, he groans.
"All for me, pretty girl? What did I do to deserve somethin' this sweet, huh?"
"Need you," you whine. "Please, Buck."
"I've wanted this for so long," he murmurs, lining himself up. "Fuck, you're a dream."
You both gasp as he slides home, your back arching and his jaw falling slack. Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, the weight grounding you back down to Earth.
"Need you to move," you choke out. "Fuck, I need it, Buck. Please."
"Oh you need it, do you?" he smirks. "My needy girl."
He snaps his hips into yours in long, careful glides, very aware of the effect he has on you. Before long, his restraint snaps, and his thrusts get harder, quicker, more frantic.
"Gonna fill you up, baby," he's muttering under his breath. "Make you mine. You want that? To have everyone know who you belong to?"
You're nodding rapidly, tears gathering in your eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth.
"How are we gonna keep this a secret if you're pregnant, huh?"
The thought makes you moan, a breathy, gutteral sound.
"You like that? Want me to make you a mommy? Fuck, I'll give you everything you ask for. I'll buy you a house and knock you up, you'll never want for anything."
His low, honeyed words throw you over the edge, squeezing and clenching around him. Bucky groans, deep and rumbled, the sound vibrating through the both of you. You find your releases together, panting and out of breath.
"House first."
"Huh?" he breathes, raising his head from your chest.
"Buy me a house first. Kids second. Maybe marriage in between."
He laughs, floating and content. You both know he meant what he said, not just a heat of the moment confession.
You stay wrapped up in each other for hours, on the rug in front of the fire.
You'll deal with the repercussions later.
#bucky smut#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x reader#dbf!bucky barnes x reader#dbf bucky barnes#dbf!bucky barnes#dbf!bucky#dadsbestfriend!bucky x reader#dadsbestfriend!bucky barnes#dadsbestfriend!bucky barnes x reader#dadsbestfriend!bucky#marvel imagine#marvel x reader#marvel smut#murphy's 3k celebration#bucky barnes#dad's best friend bucky barnes
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Babes, I just want you to know that if you ever need an excuse to post any Bucky with breeding kink (ofc alongside others and other sceneries maybe?)
You could always have an AU where Bucky and Reader decides to film all their sexual adventures while trying for a baby then posting it on corn platforms.
In that way, even the most random breedingkknk (and other kinks) would just make sense âđťđ
This is me basically suggesting an AU where they âvlogâ all their baby making, baby planning, all baby. đ
Hell yes. 18+ AF
Warnings: Heavy breeding kink, sweet baby making smut , lots of dirty talking, body worship, lots of fluffff
AN: Tags are messed up so temporarily not using them until I figure out why I keep getting errors
(also if posting onto corn platforms isn't your thing, imagine they film for themselves/ use a mirror to watch themselves instead of a camera)
"Ready sugar?" Bucky set up the camera while you bit your lip, nodding and laying back on the pillows. He made his way over and crawled on top of you, his cock already leaking, the very thought of getting you pregnant making him throb. You draped your arms around his shoulders while he peppered your face with kisses, his hand cupping your cheek, stroking your skin.
"Hey pretty girl" He smiled, his precum making a mess on your tummy, humming as you brought your legs to wrap around him, your pussy dripping, aching for him to fill you. "Been waiting for this"
He dipped down to capture your lips before getting off and pulling you up with him, sitting against the headboard and moving you to sit on his lap, leaving you fully exposed to the camera. You squeaked as he spread your thighs apart top of his, his arm slung around your waist to keep you from squirming.
"Bucky please" You sounded needy, wanting him to stuff you full, too desperate for his teasing.
"Let's show the world how gorgeous you are, let me tell you how special you are to me" He gently nipped your jaw, stroking your waist, keeping your legs spread, refusing to let you hide how perfect you looked.
"But Bucky, need you" You whined, your pussy already clenching around nothing.
"I know sweets, I know, just let me love you for a minute okay?" He cooed, brining two fingers down to rub your clit in soft circles, lightly rutting his cock against you from behind "Wanna show you off sweets, show everyone how gorgeous you are, how perfect you are for me"
You moaned, throwing your head back onto his shoulder while he added a bit more pressure, focused on rubbing you sensitive bundle of nerves, your clit throbbing against his finger tips.
"I wanna worship my angel, my pretty baby who I get to fuck with my bare cock. My sweet angel who lets me pump her full of my cum, lets me empty my balls into her tight little pussy, isn't that right doll?"
He bit your ear as you mewled, bucking your hips against his hand, your arousal soaking the sheets as he began to rub you faster.
"Look at you baby, look at how wet you already are. Is all this for me?" He dipped his fingers into your sipping hole, gathering your slick onto his finger tips and shoving them into his mouth, his eyes rolling back at the taste. "Sweetest honey angel, got my cock so fuckin' hard"
He pressed you against his erection, pushing his cock right against your ass, grinding his hips up slightly so you'd feel all of him while he continued to toy with your clit.
"Are you wet for my cock baby? You know what I wanna do tonight, does me getting you pregnant make you all needy and soaked?" He groaned by your ear at the way your cunt glistened, chest heaving, your inability to speak telling him all he needed to know.
He moved you to lay against the pillows, kissing up your body before lining his cock up with your entrance while you moved your legs to wrap tightly around his waist, your ankles locked at his lower back.
"M'gonna love you so good tonight sweets, all just for you" He started to inch his cock in, the both of you moaning at the feeling of him filling you up. He stilled as he pushed his cock in as far as it would go, closing his eyes and collecting himself while your greedy pussy fluttered around him.
"You feel how full my cock is baby? S'all for you sweet girl, all the cum to get you pregnant. Promise there's so much angel, don't think I'll be able to stop tonight" He tucked his face into the crook of your neck as he began to thrust slowly, his hands coming to lace with your pinning you against the bed. You let one of your hands slip free so you could card your fingers through his hair while he suckled and kissed the sensitive skin along the column of your neck, the both of you lost in each other. "I love showing you off baby, love showing everyone how to love you, how to make love to you, want everyone to see how I make a baby with this perfect angel that's all fucking mine"
"Feels so good Bucky" Your thighs squeezed around his waist, wishing there was a way you could melt into him, loving the way his bare cock felt in you, feeling every vein and ridge as the swollen head of his cock rubbed against your sensitive spot.
"Feels so good for me too angel, s'fucking perfect"
As kinky as Bucky was, this was different. Any other occasion and he'd rail you, degrade you, fuck you till you couldn't walk, leaving your pussy sore and legs numb. He'd pull pleasure from your body as if it kept him alive.
Not this time though.
God, he couldn't get enough of you. He squeezed your hand tighter, moaning at the way you clung onto him, his forehead resting on yours.
"It's all you sweets, you're gonna be the mother of my child, y'know that?" He pulled away slightly so he could look at you properly, bringing his hand to cup your face, squeezing your cheeks slightly. "It's you babygirl, my beautiful baby mama"
You whimpered under him, your eyes glassy as he moved a little faster, his thumb swiping away a stray tear that rolled down your skin. He was so gentle with you as if you were made of porcelain, admiring the way your brows pinched together each time he pushed his hips forward, every moan and whine slipping past your lips because of him. "You're so beautiful, you know that? M'so in love with you baby"
"I love you James" You whispered pulling him down so you could feel his full body weight on you. Bucky moaned, his balls growing heavier, tapping against your ass as he braced himself to fuck you as deeply as he could, wrapping his arms around your body.
"Can't wait to see you with your belly swollen, nipples leaking" He could feel his cock start to dribble, his orgasm at the tip of his cock, desperate to fill you. "I wanna get you pregnant so badly sweets, want you to have my babies, c'mon, tell me you want it to angel"
"Oh fuck James" You cried out, the band in your belly ready to snap, his precum leaking out of your pussy.
"Say it, say you'll carry my child angel, you'll have my baby?"
"Want your babies Bucky!"
"Yeah? You want that baby, fuck, don't-don't stop" Bucky started to sound more needy, panting as he sped up his thrusts, his cock swelling more each time. "Makes me wanna cum when you say that baby, I wanna give you all of my cum"
"Get me pregnant Bucky! Please, I-Ohmygod fuck-fuck!" You let out a silent scream as your orgasm washed over you without warning, your fluttering walls greedy to milk Bucky's cock, pulling him back in with each thrust. "Fuck Bucky!!"
"M'gonna get you so pregnant angel, don't worry. M'gonna cum so deep in you over and over again till your full and stuffed with me" He hid his face against your neck, moaning and panting, sweat beading at his forehead. You gently played with his hair with one hand while the other scratched down his back while you moaned loudly at the feeling of him fucking you through your high. "you're choking my dick baby, fuck it feels good"
"J-James!!"
"Mmm, that's right mama, say my name, say your baby daddy's name when I get you pregnant, say my fuckin' name when I cum in you baby, c'mon say it" He locked his eyes with yours, fucking you into oblivion as you eyes rolled back from over stimulation. "Say my name pretty mama"
"Jameses" The sound of skin slipping on skin bounced off the walls along with the headboard steadily thumping against the wall as he started to chase his high, desperate to fill you till it took.
"Oh shit, m'gonna cum angel, gonna cum, gonna put my baby in you sweets, gonna put a fuckin' baby in you, GONNA FUCKING CUM" Bucky cried out against your skin, his pace growing sloppy as he continued to rut his cock in your cunt, barely pulling out, making sure he stayed as close to you as possible. "F-fuck theres so much cum baby, m'gonna fill you till your dripping onto the sheets. Take my cum angel, c'mon make a mess with daddy, so beautiful taking my cock sweetheart, so pretty"
"There's so much cum Bucky" you could feel his warmth squirt out of you while he kept pouring his seed into you, endless ropes of cum still steadily pumping out of his cock.
"I know babygirl, look at what you do to me mama, got me all fucked up when I make love to you, you feel too good, don't even know what to do with myself" He panted, whimpering and whining as he cock began to slowly soften, still occasionally throbbing while you cooed, rubbing his body. He hissed as he pulled out, admiring the mess he made inside you chuckling at your fucked outstate, your eyes barely able to focus.
You whined as he crawled off you to grab the camera, your eyes growing wide as he bent you in half, bringing the camera closer to get a shot of your soaked pussy. His cum was messy between your thighs; you squeaked as he shoved two fingers into you, pushing his seed back in.
"Bucky!" You felt your face heat up while he smirked, placing a sloppy kiss onto your sensitive clit, making you squeal.
"Gotta show everyone exactly how much cum I filled you with baby, gotta show them how fuckin' pretty this pussy is and how perfect our baby making was" He give you a wink before turning the camera off and settling by your side, spooning you from behind. His hand came to rub your tummy while kissing your temple, his cock already hard again.
"Rest for a bit mama, we still have all night"
#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky x f!reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x reader#bucky barnes breeding kink#bucky breeding kink#dom bucky x reader#soft bucky barnes#soft bucky#bucky barnes pregnancy kink#pregnancy kink#bucky barnes x pregnant reader#breeding kink bucky#bucky barnes x breeding kink#breeding kink bucky barnes#bucky barnes lactation kink#bucky barnes x mommy reader#bucky barnes mommy kink#bucky barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#james buchanan bucky barnes#james bucky barnes
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and baby makes three
(the reboot)
bucky barnes x fem reader
words: 11.3k
warnings: **18+ ONLY** friends to lovers, pining, smut, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cockwarming (kind of??), trigger warning for having troubles with getting pregnant. it's still super fuckin soft despite all of that though, i swear.
a/n: okay so it's currently 6am as i'm typing this and i haven't been to sleep yet bc i decided to just heavily edit this instead of rewrite it bc i'm lazy i guess idk. this was posted originally back in 2021 i believe and it's still on ao3 it's just orphaned rip. i promise i'll be writing and posting new stuff soon ok pls have faith in me and cheer me on bc it's hard and scary and i don't wanna disappoint anybody :( ANYWAY, as usual, any and all mistakes are my own. if i've missed anything important pls let me know so i can correct it. feedback is encouraged (pls) and appreciated (i am begging...)
The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and very unlikely. Sure, you liked kids well enough, but having one of your ownâŚ
Itâs a thought thatâs sat in a corner deep in your mind, buried beneath a million other impossible concepts; a thought that youâve only ever glanced over and never gave your full attention, having ruled it out ages ago as something you just couldnâtâor wouldnâtâdo.
And then, on a day like any other, it pushes its way to the forefront of your mind, making itself known and unwilling to leave.
Youâre going into the clothing store to find a new cardigan after your most favorite one got eaten by the dryer. Usually youâre a single-minded shopper, walking into a store with tunnel vision and on a mission to get what you need and thatâs it.
Today, however, you make the mistake of letting your eyes wander on your way to the sweater section. Your gaze just so happens to land on the baby clothes⌠and your steps falter. Itâs there that you see it, a tiny, pink onesie with a sleeping teddy bear printed on the front, displayed on an even tinier hanger. Thereâs matching pants with teddy bears all over them and ruffles on the butt and all your brain can muster up is cutecutecutecutecute.
Your feet carry you closer and before you realize what youâre doing you pick up the outfit, letting out a coo when you realize the teddy bear is fuzzy, softly rubbing your thumb across it. Somehow, you walk out of the store, not with a new cardigan, but with the cute baby outfit and a bow you thought looked adorable with it.
Itâs not until you get home that it hits you, that you bought baby clothes for a baby you donât even have.
The feeling that rushes through you is hard to describe. Shame? Embarrassment?
...Yearning?
No. Definitely not. Nope.
Thereâs absolutely no yearning going on here, not for a baby. Youâve never even had that desire before and you certainly donât see yourself having it now. You shake your head to clear it, telling yourself youâll take it back tomorrow.
Except you donât take it back. You conveniently âforgetâ and it stays shoved on the top shelf in your hall closet. You pretend you donât pause in front of said closet throughout the following daysâweeksâchewing on the inside of your cheek and staring at the door like you can see through the wood at the evidence of your impulsive purchase.
It gets harder to ignore, though, when you start getting ads for baby clothing brands. And baby toys, bottles, handy little gadgets for new parents, nursery decor⌠Itâs endless.
Then, as if it wasnât already bad enough, all of your childhood friends start popping out babies like itâs a brand new trend. You don't think you've seen your social media this flooded with pregnancy announcements and baby arrivals, ever. Your emotions are mixed; happy for them, and for their excitement, but thereâs also a weird discomfort settled in your stomach.
You hesitate to be that person who thinks the universe is trying to tell you something, but you do wonder. Why else would you suddenly have these feelings? Why else would there be baby stuff everywhere you look now?
It brings on other thoughts, as well. In this day and age, itâs not too unusual for women to have babies without being married, or without a significant other at all. There is the pressure, still, to at least be in a relationship, but considering youâve been practically in love with one of your closest friends for the last two years, itâs safe to say that youâre tragically single, so having a baby with someone is out of the question.
And god, do you even want a baby?
As soon as the thought crosses your mind, with a sudden clarity that hits you like a ton of bricks, you realize you do. It feels like a freight train has slammed into you. Your mindâs eye supplies you with images of a swollen belly and wide smile, a precious baby wrapped in a soft blanket, cradled in your arms, a gummy grin and happy giggle.
Emotion consumes you then, longing like youâve never felt in your life, chest aching with how badly you want that.
Itâs not as if youâre too young. Youâre plenty old enough and youâve got a secure job. You donât subscribe to that whole biological clock nonsense, but you do feel that if you are going to potentially have a baby, it might be better to do it now while youâre still in relatively good health.
You groan, dropping your face into your open palms, the movie you'd been watching to try and distract yourself long forgotten as it continues to play on the television.
This is a lot to think about, you ponder to yourself. Taking a deep breath in and releasing it slowly, you decide the mature thing to do is give yourself more time to ruminate on it. Having a baby is no small decision. You need to be absolutely certain itâs what you want. Itâs going to change your entire life, everything, and youâd be responsible for a new life. So, youâll have to give yourself a few months to decide and then you can go from there.
***
Youâre scrolling through yet another article on your laptop, engrossed in every detail of the process of artificial insemination and the symptoms and side effects that come with it. So engrossed, in fact, that you donât hear the key turning in the lock, the door opening and closing, and the heavy footfalls that follow.
Itâs only when Bucky asks, âWhatcha reading?â that you are even aware of his presence.
You startle so hard that your knee slams into the underside of your table. Ignoring the throbbing pain in your knee and your wildly beating heart, you close your laptop with a snap and turn to Bucky.
âYou could knock,â you grouse.
âWhy give me a key, then?â he retorts, unapologetic.
You roll your eyes and grumble under your breath, âClearly, it was a mistake.â
âYou didnât answer me.â
Brows furrowed, you ask, âWhat?â
He gestures to your laptop. âWhat were you reading? Your nose was nearly smushed against the screen.â
You blink, trying to think of a reasonable excuse and coming up empty.
âNothing,â is all your brilliant mind can supply.
Buckyâs eyes narrow for a few seconds, and you pray to every higher power and all that is holy and good that he wonât press further. You remain frozen under Buckyâs suspicious stare, hearing that Old West shootout music playing in your mind.
Thankfully, it seems the deities are feeling indulgent, as Bucky chooses let it go.
He holds up the bags he carried in. âI brought lunch.â
You perk up instantly. âDid you go to that one placeâ?â
âWith the fried rice you like so much, yes,â he finishes for you, smiling.
âYouâre the best,â you sigh, stomach rumbling eagerly.
âI know,â he replies, solemn and dramatic like the idiot he is.
He begins taking out the styrofoam boxes and chattering on about something dumb Steve did the other day, and you mean to listen, you really do. Itâs just. That article is still lingering in your brain. Thereâs so many steps and hassles. Plus, itâs not cheap. It would be a hefty investment.
Youâd only researched it because, after months of contemplating the pros and cons of having a baby, you determined the pros far outweigh the cons. But then the problem was: how to even make it happen.
Your first thought was that you didnât think youâd let just any man come inside you, for many obvious reasons. Youâd shuddered to think of it. Then there was surrogacy, which is admirable and wonderful, but youâd quickly dismissed that idea as you realized you wanted to actually carry the baby yourself. So that led you to artificial insemination. You werenât sure how you felt about it yet. There was something a little too clinical about choosing a random manâs sperm to have injected into your uterus.
Buckyâs still speaking as he grabs plates and forks, unaware of your inner monologue. âAnd then he got Sam involved,â heâs saying, scooping out food onto the plates, âwhich, as you know, I always think is a dumb thing to do.â
âI want to have a baby,â you blurt, eyes widening at your outburst.
Bucky fumbles with the spoon, sending fried rice flying, muttering curses as he tries to catch it with no luck as it lands with a dull clunk on the table. The silence that follows is loud. It feels like your heart is in your throat as you wait for him to just say something, anything.
âThis is⌠quite a mess Iâve made,â Bucky finally observes. His voice is a bit higher than usual. âWhereâs your vacuum? Actually, do you have one of those mini ones? Or would Clorox wipes be better? You know what, Iâll do both.â
He nods decisively then turns an expectant look towards you. His eyes look a bit wild, but you wisely keep that to yourself.
Wordlessly, you direct him to your hall closet. You realize your error a second too late when he opens the closet and reaches for the vacuum on the top shelf, where the purchase youâd made months ago also rests. His fingers get caught in the plastic bag when he grabs the handheld vacuum and its contents spill out. He goes to catch them right away, but once it registers what they are, he lets go of them like theyâre on fire and nearly drops the vacuum on his foot.
Heat has been steadily creeping up your neck, but now your whole body feels aflame with embarrassment. The two of you stare at the baby clothes lying unassumingly on the floor for a long moment, until Bucky quietly walks back to the table with the vacuum clutched tightly in his fist. He flicks the switch on and it whirs to life, sucking up the bits of rice scattered around the table.
Thereâs another lengthy silence after he turns the vacuum off and you're unable to find the right thing to say to break it. Bucky does it for you.
âSo⌠Youâre serious.â
You meet his eyes and sigh heavily. âYeah.â
He blinks a few times before clearing his throat, schooling his expression carefully. âI didnât realize you were seeing someone.â
You cough lightly and start picking the peas out of your fried rice. âWell, that would be because Iâm not.â
âI donât think I follow,â he admits slowly.
You sigh again, lowering your gaze to your lap. âLook, Iâve thought about this a lot, okay? Iâve given myself months to really make sure itâs what I want. Iâm in a good place in my life to have one, Bucky, and I donât want to feel pressured to wait until I might get married.â You lift your gaze to his. âI want to have a baby,â you repeat firmly. âAnd I donât need a partner to have one.â
Youâre not sure why you feel the need to defend yourself. Itâs not up to Bucky what you decide to do. You donât need his approval, or anyone elseâs. Maybe itâs because, even though you know it's not true, it feels like you're making too hasty of a decision.
After a beat, Bucky amends, âWell, I mean⌠You doâŚâ
âOh my god, shut up, you know what I mean,â you groan as you smack his arm, glad that he's not calling you crazy or trying to talk you out of it.
He doesnât even flinch, the jerk.
âWait, so what were you reading when I got here?â he suddenly questions, brows furrowed.
âNothing,â you say too quickly, guiltily.
âLet me see your laptop then,â he counters as he crosses his arms over his chest.
You flounder for a second, scoffing. âWhat? No!â
âIt canât be that embarrassing, just show me,â he wheedles.
âAbsolutely not.â
âLet me see!â
âItâs private!â
âDonât be a chicken.â
Your eye twitches. âIâm not a chicken.â Bucky smirks and before he can even open his mouth you interject with a finger pointed accusingly at his face, âDo not start clucking at me, Bucky. Iâll kick your ass,â you threaten, though it's weak and you're not the only one who knows it.
You glare when his smirk only widens. Slowly, he moves his arms like heâs gonna flap them like chicken wings.
âUgh! God, fine! You wanna know what I was reading?â You open your laptop and slide it over to him, turning it to where he can read it. âThere.â
Bucky scans the page, then scans it again, eyes flicking all over like itâs in a different language. His cheeks grow redder and redder as he reads and you get a small sense of satisfaction at the sight.
âWow,â he mutters finally. âYouâre turkey baster serious.â
âJames Buchanan Barnes,â you say, pinching the bridge of your nose.
âWhat?â he asks innocently.
When you make eye contact with him, you purse your lips to keep the laughter threatening to bubble out at bay, but the ever growing smile on Buckyâs face is hard to resist and you find yourself snorting a laugh that leads to uncontrollable giggles. Buckyâs laughing with you, his eyes crinkling on the sides. The tension you hadnât realized you held in your shoulders loosens and you nudge his knee with yours in silent thanks.
âSo,â he says after you've both calmed down.
âSo,â you repeat, dragging it out, drumming your fingers on the tabletop. âIâve been doing research, checking out all of my options, and while artificial insemination seems like the best choice⌠I donât know, thereâs just something too clinical about it,â you reply, voicing your concerns, âIt doesnât feel right. I know I said I donât need a partner, and I donât, but⌠Having absolutely no connection is weird.â
You shrug, waving a hand as if to say oh well, putting an end to the conversation, and pick up your plate to carry it over to the microwave. You reheat Buckyâs food while youâre up, and then you both start eating in comfortable silence. He gets halfway through his meal before speaking up.
âHave you⌠I mean, did you think about⌠Iâve heard that, uh. Some people ask another personâŚâ
He trails off, clearly frustrated that he canât just spit out what heâs trying to say. You think you understand what he means, though.
âI read up on surrogacy,â you say, biting your lip. âBut I donât think Iâd want someone else to carry my baby.â
âOh, no, I didnât meanâI wasnât suggesting, uh, that. Not that thereâs anything wrong with it!â he rushes to say.
You tilt your head. âWhat did you mean then?â
âWell,â Bucky starts, stilted, licking his lips. âFor the artificial insemination, have you considered⌠you know. Asking someone youâre close with?â
You frown, not following.
âForâfor the sperm,â he clarifies, shifting in his seat.
âOh,â you breathe, blinking rapidly, surprised as you think of how to reply. âUm. No? I wouldnât even know who I could ask, to be honest. Thatâs quite the request, you know? Who wouldââ
âMe,â he interrupts, determined and cheeks flushed, âI would.â
Your own face heats. âOh,â you say again, quieter.
You can say, with full confidence, that not once did it cross your mind to ask anyone to help you, but you especially would have never given thought to asking Bucky.
For a list of reasons, really, with âitâs Buckyâ being right at the very top. Likeâsure, yes, youâre in love with him, but after two years of no signs of reciprocation youâve learned to stop dreaming, to stop hoping. If the attraction was mutual he would have shown it by now, right? And on top of that, his friendship means the world to you and you wouldnât do anything to jeopardize it. You'd never forgive yourself if you ever managed to fuck up the one good, constant thing going for you.
âBucky,â you start, slow and careful, âthis⌠This isn't something you can just jump into. Itâs something you should think about for a while.â
He contemplates that for a second. âYouâre right,â he concedes with a nod. âButâŚâ He purses his lips, glancing away for a minute before turning back to you, leaning forward. âOkay listen, this is important for you. Itâs going to change your whole life. You said it yourself, not having a connection to the sperm donor feels wrong. Youâre my best friend, alright? Iâcare about you. You should pick someone you can trust.â
He clenches his jaw after he finishes speaking. You sort of hate the way your heart both flutters and plummets at his words. Itâs nice to know you matter to him, just not in the way youâve wanted for too long.
And if youâre really honest with yourself, Bucky would be a great choice as a donor. Heâs in great health, has strong features that would look wonderful on any gender. But would you be able to handle the repercussions of having his child? Would you be able to look at your baby and see those features without it sending a pang through your chest every single time? You canât say for certain.
Yet, the chance to have that type of connection with him, selfishly, sounds too good to pass up.
âAt least think about it for a few days,â you murmur reluctantly.
Itâs the most acceptance heâll get and he knows it. A smile blooms across his face and you have to swallow down the warring emotions rising within you.
***
With the amount of research you do on the subject now, it doesnât take long for you to find out that there are at-home kits for artificial insemination that are much easier (and cheaper). Itâs easy to settle on that, clicking on the info to order your kit with butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
You read through the instructions online and it all sounds simple enough, until you get to the part where it says that having an orgasm after injection helps increase your chances of conception.
Blinking, heat crawling up your neck, you read that step several times, hoping you read it wrong, but it doesnât change.
You⌠You canât masturbate with Buckyâs sperm inside you. Thatâs a line you refuse to cross.
And besides, heâs a healthy man in his thirties who exercises regularly and eats fairly healthy food! You probablyâdefinitelyâwonât need to take that step. Itâll be fine. Probably.
Once the kit arrives, you call Bucky and ask him to come over so you can explain the process to him. Since heâs only across the hall of your apartment building, heâs there a moment later, letting himself in with his key.
âLetâs make a baby,â is how he greets you.
âHold your horses,â you reply, fighting back a laugh. âI gotta walk you through everything first.â
He plops himself down next to you on your couch. âFine, fine. Go ahead.â
Squaring your shoulders, you begin telling him how it all works, and what parts he is key for. You speak through your awkwardness, avoiding eye contact, when you explain that heâll need to masturbate into a clean, sterile cup. You leave out how itâs suggested for you to also masturbate, deciding itâs not pertinent information for him to know.
âWhen do we start?â he asks once youâre done.
âI have to take an ovulation test first to find out the best days for me to conceive, but once I do that weâll be able to, um.â You gesture vaguely. âIâll be able to do the injections.â
He nods. âAlright.â He looks at you then, taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze. âIâll be here every step of the way, okay?â
âI know,â you say, smiling. âThank you, Bucky.â
âYouâre welcome,â he returns softly.
âNo, really, thank you,â you assert. âThis is a lot to take on and I can never fully repay you.â
Bucky shakes his head. âI want you to be happy, and I can see that having this baby is going to do that. Iâll do whatever I need to do to ensure it happens.â
You pull him into a hug, willing yourself to not cry. Youâre not sure heâll ever understand what this means for you, personally, or that youâd ever find a way to express it. Heâs giving you so much more than just a baby.
***
The first injection time comes and you find yourself fidgeting where you sit as you wait for Bucky to bring over the, uh⌠sample. You do your best to not think about what heâs doing in his apartment, to not think about exactly how heâs collecting his sperm.
Now is not the time, you mentally scold yourself. Get it together.
A timid knock at your door alerts you to his presence. The fact heâs knocking says a lot about his own level of embarrassment about the situation.
His cheeks are pink when you open the door. âUh, hi.â
âHi,â you return.
He clears his throat and lifts the small cup in his hand. âHereâs⌠well, you know.â
You gingerly take it from him, not knowing what else to say, but when he smiles somewhat crookedly and turns to leave, you find yourself asking, âWill you stay?â
Buckyâs steps pause. âHuh?â
âWill youâI mean⌠Would you mind staying?â You shift on your feet. âThis is a big moment for me. I-I donât want to do it alone.â
âAre you asking me toâŚ?â He trails off awkwardly.
âOh! God, no, I wouldnâtâno,â you assure, huffing a laugh, âIâm doing the injection, I just need a little moral support. Thatâs all.â
Bucky smiles. âSure, Iâll stay.â
Relief floods through you. You step aside to let him in, closing the door behind him. He follows you to your bedroom and just before entering you stop in your tracks, nearly causing Bucky to bump into you.
âUm,â you mutter, turning to him. âYouâll have to, ah, sit out here,â you explain. âI have to be lying downâŚâ
Understanding dawns on him. âOh! Right, right, of course. Sorry.â
âIâll let you know when Iâm done,â you promise.
He nods and watches you close the door. You walk over to your bed and sit down, glancing at the syringe youâll be using and biting the inside of your cheek.
This is it. Thereâs really no going back after this. Sure, you may not get pregnant the first time, but Buckyâs already said heâd help you for as long as it takes. Itâs just⌠very real now. You donât feel any doubts, though. You want this.
Inhaling a large breath and slowly letting it out, hands shaking, you take the lid off the cup and pick up the syringe. You remember the instructions, making sure thereâs as little air sucked in as possible when you draw out the semen, and getting rid of the few air bubbles that you see. You grab your pillows and lie down, propping them beneath you to lift your hips.
âHere I go,â you mumble to yourself, taking another deep breath and releasing it.
A couple minutes later, the syringe is empty and youâve got your legs pulled up to your chest. You cover yourself with your blanket and call out Buckyâs name.
âYou okay?â you hear through the door.
âWill you come here, please?â you ask.
He walks in cautiously, making sure youâre decently covered before entering fully, wisely not commenting on your position. âWell?â
âI did it,â you whisper.
He stays quiet, letting you parse through your thoughts. You blink when you feel tears threatening to gather in your eyes. Heâs beside you in an instant, crawling in the bed and lying down, taking your hand in his.
âCongratulations,â he says softly.
âDonât congratulate me yet,â you reply, sniffing and wiping at your eyes.
âStill,â he presses. âYouâre one step closer now.â
He pulls your hand up and kisses the back of it. You give him a watery smile. The two of you lay there in silence for a moment before Bucky breaks it.
âThis isnât how I pictured myself making a baby.â
It startles a laugh out of you and Bucky grins, pleased to have helped ease the tense atmosphere. He distracts you with idle conversation after that, talking about his plans for the upcoming weekend, asking about yours, tells you about the newest stupid thing Sam did; he talks and talks and talks, until your anxiety is gone, and then he stays to cook dinner for you.
Your hug when he gets ready to head back to his apartment lasts a couple minutes longer than usual. Bucky quietly allows it, dropping a kiss on your forehead when you pull away.
âSame time next week?â he jokes, making you crack a smile.
âGoodbye, Bucky,â you reply exasperatedly as you close your door.
âBye, sweetheart,â he returns over his shoulder.
***
Weeks pass. More injections. Pregnancy tests taken.
But nothing happens.
All of your tests come back negative.
When reading up on artificial insemination, and pregnancy in general, youâd understood that there was a chance it wouldnât happen right away. You thought you were fine with that, that youâd be alright with the waiting and all. Looking at your growing collection of negative tests, however, has a sense of dread building within you. You do your best to quell it, telling yourself thereâs no need to stress over it. Yet.
Besides, your mind supplies in an overly cheerful manner, thereâs still one more method to try!
***
The next time Bucky brings over his sample, he lets himself in, like always, and passes along the cup with an encouraging smile. You try to smile back, but it feels more like a grimace. He either doesnât notice or he at least pretends not to, thankfully.
But when he goes to make himself comfortable to wait, youâre reminded that you havenât told him about the, uh⌠change in procedure, so to speak.
You clear your throat delicately. âI donât think youâll need to stick around this time.â
Bucky frowns. âWhy not?â
âBecauseâŚâ You trail off, cheeks pinking, yet not finishing the sentence, because how do you explain this?
âI promised you Iâd be here every step of the way,â he recalls. âI intend to keep that promise.â
You wince. âI really appreciate where your heart is, Bucky, I really do, but I literally cannot let you be here for this injection.â
âWhy not?â
You look heavenward for mercy. âI have toâŚâ
When you donât finish your sentence again, Bucky raises a single brow, gesturing for you to go on. âYou have to⌠what?â
You huff, throwing your arms out. âI have to orgasm, okay?â
His eyes go a little bit wide, but you can tell he tries to control his reaction. He swallows, shifting where he sits on the couch.
âOh,â he mumbles. âHave⌠have you had to do that before?â
âNo. Well, I mean, it was suggested, but I neverâŚâ
His eyebrows furrow. âDoes it help or something?â
You absently scratch your neck. âThey say it increases the chances of conception.â
âBut you havenât been doing⌠that.â
âI didnât think Iâd need to.â
Bucky inhales like heâs going to say something, but then doesnât.
âYeah, so, I donât think you should be here,â you utter, quickly adding, âNo offense.â
âNo, yeah, thatâs fair, um. Iâll justâIâll head back to my apartment,â he states as he stands. âYou canâI mean, if you still want me toâI can come back over? After you⌠uhâŚâ
âIâll let you know,â you reply, voice tight and high.
He nods, looking lost and like he wants to say more but thinks better of it. Finally, he mutters a soft bye and is out the door.
Alone now, your stomach feels like itâs tying itself in knots and your heart is doing its damnedest to beat out of your chest. You try to tell yourself that itâs just another injection, that this is the same as any other time you've done this, but you know itâs not. It's really, really not.
Laying down on your bed, syringe in hand, is much more nerve wracking than before. On your left lies a new addition to your routine. You donât know why youâre acting like such a prude all the sudden. Itâs not like youâve never masturbated before. Though, you suppose the major difference is that you didnât have Buckyâs sperm hanginâ out in your vagina all those other times while you did it.
âQuit being such a goober about this,â you tell yourself.
This has to be done for a reason. If you want to have a babyâand you do, very badlyâthen youâre gonna have to deal with the process.
Once youâve injected the sperm, you reach for your bullet vibrator next to your left hand. The instructions say not to insert anything, only to stimulate your clit. You try to clear your head, think of it as a chore or something, yet itâs hard not to think of a certain someone.
The vibrator buzzes with the press of a button. You adjust your hips, making sure theyâre tilted, then bring the vibrator to your clit. The first touch makes your stomach tense and thighs spasm.
You close your eyes, running the toy along your slit. You really donât want to drag this out, would prefer to get it over with as quickly as possible, but your mind begins running away with images.
Bucky, settled between your spread thighs, one hand resting on one of them, the other controlling the vibrator. You imagine heâd tease you, slowly trail it along the crease of your thighs, over your hips; everywhere but where you wanted it.
Bucky would probably give in once you whine and beg enough, once your desperation bled into your voice, and hold the vibrator directly to your clit, drink in your cries of pleasure like theyâre the finest whisky.
Heâd mutter soft but firm encouragement, tell you how good youâre doing, how good you sound. Heâd start circling the vibrator, going from quick to lazy swirls, then heâd change the setting to a higher one just to hear you whimper. His free hand would run up your torso to pinch at your nipples for added stimulation.
When you imagine him leaning down to add his tongue into the mix, your mind blanks as your climax hits you, a ragged moan forcing its way out of your throat. Youâre quick to turn the vibrator off and toss it to the floor, deciding youâll worry about cleaning it later, chest heaving as you pant for breath after an intense orgasm.
Shame and embarrassment consume you, mock you for using Bucky to rub one out. Youâd given in to the fantasy so easily.
Truthfully, itâs not the first time youâve thought of him while pleasuring yourself, but the context this time is completely different, and you feel immediately guilty. Admittedly, itâs probably irrational.
That doesnât stop you from cringing at your actions.
***
Youâre sure youâve bought out the entire pregnancy test section from the convenience store down the block. Currently, there are six different brands in front of you, all promising the most accurate results.
Bucky is sitting in your bedroom, quietly waiting for you to pee on all of them so you can both find out what they say. You chug the last bit of your third bottle of water even though your bladder is fit to burst at any moment. Turning the faucet on for modesty, you make quick work of the tests, then wash your hands.
And wait.
You call Bucky into the bathroom with you. The two of you quietly sit on the edge of your bathtub, counting down the minutes. Part of you wishes Bucky would say something dumb to break the tension, like he usually does, but you're also kind of glad he's just here, next to you, a silent comfort.
It seems like hours have passed when youâre finally sure you can check them.
The first one is negative, and so is the second. The third, however, reads positive. Your heart begins racing, clutching at the counter, but before your hopes get too carried away you read the rest. To your dismay, they are all negative. You stare down at them all, eyes falling on the loan positive test multiple times, knowing that itâs likely a false positive, yet stupidly hoping otherwise.
Your chin wobbles. Bucky hugs you from behind, resting his cheek on your shoulder.
âWhat do I do, Bucky?â
At your broken whisper, he sighs. âI donât know, sweetheart.â
Neither of you know what to say or do after that. Bucky continues offering quiet support, his solid presence at your back, and youâre grateful. Eventually, he leads you out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, sitting you down at the table as he starts preparing dinner.
When youâre both eating the spaghetti he made, he breaks the silence.
âDo you thinkâŚâ he starts, pausing to think of how to phrase his question before carefully carrying on. âAre you going to stop?â
âI donât want to,â you answer, the implied but hanging heavy in the air.
Bucky sits his fork down. âI know you want this, very much.â He pushes his hair out of his face as he leans forward, elbows settling on the table. âBut I hate seeing how sad you get when the tests come out negative. I feel so⌠powerless. Like I could be doing more or something.â
âYouâre doing all you can, Bucky,â you assure.
âThatâs the thing, though. I donât think I am.â
You frown. âWhat do you mean?â
He licks his lips, locking his fingers together. âI think we should have sex.â
Your fork drops to your plate with a clang, eyes going wide.
âI apologize for how blunt that came out,â he states with a wince. âBut, I mean, think about it. Youâve only been using my sperm from a syringe, and up until the last time, you hadnât been, um, orgasming with it.â You look away, bashful. âI just wonder if maybe trying the old-fashioned way would give you better results.â
âBucky,â you start, opening and closing your mouth a couple times before shaking your head. âItâs one thing for you to offer your sperm, which Iâm thankful for, truly, but⌠Having sex?â
âIâve already told you Iâm willing to do whatever I need to do,â he retorts earnestly. âYour happiness means a lot to me, okay? I hate sitting around and watching your heart break every week. Youâve tried it your way, now I think we should try mine.â
âI-I donât know,â you hesitate, chewing on the inside of your cheek, knee beginning to bounce under the table.
His hand slides onto your knee, stilling the movement as he ducks his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are impossibly sincere and your resolve crumbles in an instant.
âIt wonât⌠Itâs not going to change anything,â he assures. âI wonât allow it.â
You swallow roughly. He may not, but your heart is going to take its toughest beating yet. Itâs going to be hopeless trying to overcome the inevitable emotions that come with sex.
Even so, somehow, your longing for a baby eclipses all of this. Now that youâve imagined holding your child in your arms, raising them and loving them, you canât go back. Not anymore.
âOkay,â you allow, softly.
Buckyâs shoulders relax, lips tipping up into a devastating smile.
Youâre so fucked. (Pun intended.)
***
Two nights later, youâre pacing in your bedroom, impatiently waiting for Bucky to arrive. Youâd been unsure whether or not you should dress up. You didnât see the point, honestly. Still, a small part of you wondered what his reaction would be if he saw you all done up in lingerie. At the moment, youâre in an oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts.
Itâs Bucky, you think, and this isnât a normal situation, it doesnât matter what Iâm wearing.
You hear his key turning in the lock then and your heart begins hammering away. He calls your name as he enters.
âIn here,â you reply, twisting your fingers nervously.
He walks into your room looking just as on edge as you are. He also seems to have had the same idea about his attire, comfortable in his white tee and sweatpants. His feet are bare and for whatever reason that feels way more intimate than it has any right to.
âHey,â he greets.
âHi.â
You bite your lip, eyes flitting around your room and coming back to settle on Bucky. He huffs.
âThis is ridiculous,â he declares, âItâs just us.â
âRight,â you nod, biting the inside of your cheek.
âItâs not gonna be weird.â
âNope.â
His jaw ticks. You stare back at him. It only takes a moment for you to realize that somebody has to make the first move, so you steel yourself and turn on your heel, walking towards your bed.
âIâm keeping my shirt on,â you announce as you unceremoniously drop onto the mattress, grabbing your pillows to stuff them under you.
Bucky follows at a sedate pace, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He pauses next to you, taking a second to roll his shoulders, then he climbs in and settles in front of your bent legs. He gingerly places his hands on your knees.
âMay I?â he asks.
Mouth suddenly dry, you nod. He moves his hands to the waistband of your shorts and tugs. You lift your hips to help him slide them down and off, along with your underwear. Gently, he spreads your legs.
Your breathing has picked up considerably, eyes firmly trained on the ceiling. You know youâre already wet and are blessedly thankful he doesnât mention it.
The first slide of his fingers has you inhaling sharply. He slowly gathers your slick and trails it up to your clit, lightly circling it. Your mind recalls your fantasy, but you quickly shove it back to the depths of your thoughts, lest you do something idiotic like tell him about it.
He spreads your legs more, adjusting his position between them. His fingers move down until he can sink one into you. You gasp, hands shooting out to grasp your sheets. He wastes no time and begins thrusting his finger inside you.
It becomes quickly apparent to you that itâs going to be very difficult to hold back any noise or reactions. Goddamnit, you will try, though!
When he decides itâs time to add another finger, you feel yourself clench around them, and his soft fuck does not go unnoticed, evident in the way your pussy traitorously clenches again.
âCan IâŚ?â he asks, voice cracking, but doesnât finish his thought, making you have to break your staring contest with the ceiling and look at him.
Heâs not even looking back at you, heâs staring at his fingers, watching them pump in and out of you, half bent over with a slack jaw, like he wants toâŚ
He meets your eyes then, licking his lips.
Oh.
Swallowing around the sudden lump in your throat, knowing youâre probably going to regret it, you nod.
Heâs leaning over and sucking on your clit before you can even blink. You cry out, thighs trying to clamp around his head, but his free hand shoots out to hold you open. It makes you squirm, fisting the sheets even tighter. His fingers curl inside you as his tongue licks around them and you whine, high and needy, and then mouth is back on your clit, tongue swiping over it, sucking on it with loud, obscene noises.
His hand comes up to grab the hem of your shirt, shoves it upward until itâs bunched underneath your breasts. Those fingers ghost back down your torso, goosebumps erupting in their wake.
He speeds up his thrusts and your hand flies down to grip his hair. You donât think youâre meant to hear the quiet grunt he lets out, but you do, and it has you panting even harder. Your orgasm is building, fast, and you pull on his hair in warning.
âBucky,â you say on a gasp.
Using his arm to hold you down, his free hand joins, thumb swiping over your clit now as he dips his head to slide his tongue in alongside his fingers. It draws a yell out of you, the ever expanding pleasure within you bursting into the hardest orgasm youâve experienced thus far in your adult life. You know youâre moaning, bucking into the sensations coursing through you, and youâd feel abashed if you didnât feel so fucking good.
Before you can become too sensitive, Bucky withdraws his fingers and sits up. You canât even really catch your breath, though, because in the next second heâs whipping his t-shirt off and shoving his sweatpants down far enough to free his cock.
Your thighs do clamp closed then, at the sight of how thick he is, and he tries and fails to keep his smirk hidden.
âOh, shut up,â you wheeze.
âDidnât say anything,â he counters.
He doesnât let you argue, choosing that moment to shuffle closer and line up with your opening. Cautiously, he eases himself inside, inch by inch. Your mouth drops open, brows furrowing as he fills you, stretching you so perfectly. When heâs in as far as he can go, the breath wooshes out of him, his head falling back. You know heâs trying to be polite and let you adjust, butâ
âOh my god, move,â you demand, impatient.
He huffs a laugh, dropping his heavy lidded gaze to yours. âBossy.â
âDid you really expect anything elseâoh!â
The grin he aims your way after grinding into you is downright sinful. You mentally tell yourself to kick him for that later.
He grabs your hips and the pillows and settles you closer to his lap, changing the angle, then pulls out and glides back in, creating a painstakingly slow rhythm.
You have to close your eyes. You canât look at him anymore. You knew he was probably a god in bed, but to now have firsthand experience? There was no way youâd be able to fuck anyone else without comparing them.
His grip on your hips tightens, the only warning you get before his thrusts turn sharp.
âFuck,â you cry out, your hands reaching up to grip the pillow beneath your head.
The sound of your skin meeting his is harsh in the otherwise quiet room. Well, okay, youâre not exactly being quiet, but you canât be blamed for that.
Bucky, however, is nearly silent. The only thing you hear from him is heavy breathing. You wonder if heâs holding back, the thought crossing your mind for a split second, and then youâre clenching around his cock, trying to see if you can gain a reaction. And boy, do you get one.
He grunts and sucks in a breath, lips parting as his eyes squeeze shut. His hips pick up their pace and hair falls into his face. You find yourself wishing he was closer so you could brush it out of the way.
Stop it, you scold yourself.
He pauses to grind into you again, your walls fluttering around his throbbing cock, and you both sigh. Bucky leans forward, hooking your legs into the crooks of his elbows, and resumes his brutal pace.
âO-Oh,â you whimper.
The new angle is heavenly, his cock dragging along a spot inside you that you thought nobody else could find. Unable to help yourself, you clutch at his arms, nails digging in.
âShit,â he groans, thrusts faltering.
He lets go of one of your legs to slip his hand between you, rubbing at your clit and sending you that much closer to your second orgasm. He can tell youâre close, but youâre gonna need something to push you over the edge. He leans down even closer, breath fanning out against your cheek.
âCâmon,â he pants. âLet go.â
You shiver when his tongue flicks your earlobe and sucks it into his mouth, keening as the pressure builds. He thrusts harder, faster, and when you grasp his hair and pull, he growls and latches on to your shoulder, biting down. You gasp from the added pain and then youâre coming, shuddering and whining through your release. Bucky isnât far behind, raising up and fucking into you savagely before pausing abruptly, groaning as he finally comes. He lazily thrusts a few more times to draw it out, then stops, stilling with his cock inside you.
Your hair is sticking to your forehead, as well as your shirt to your clammy back, breathing in lungfuls of air. Bucky is softly caressing your thighs, letting out shaky breaths as your pussy continues to flutter around him.
It takes several moments for you to gather your wits, for the rest of the world to come filtering back in. You are truly and completely fucked now, in every sense of the word.
âWellâŚâ You trail off, voice scratchy.
âThat wasâŚâ
âMhm,â you mumble.
Bucky sighs heavily. âLetâs hope it worked this time.â
You hum. âThank you for your service,â you reply with a lazy salute.
You yelp when he pinches your hip, kicking at him in retaliation. The jostling reminds you, with a gasping groan, that heâs still buried balls deep inside you.
âUm.â You cough lightly. âYou wanna, you know⌠pull out?â
He looks down where youâre connected like it hadnât even dawned on him. âOh, uh. Well, I thought maybe it could, like. Help.â
His gaze stays locked, fingers flexing on your hips, and you feel like squirming again.
âI think itâs good,â you say quietly.
Bucky finally glances back up at your shy tone, cheeks pinking. He clears his throat.
âRight.â
Carefully, he eases his softening cock out of you, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from making a noise.
You canât hold back yours, though, gasping once heâs gone. You feel unbearably empty, but refrain from voicing that incessant thought.
Buckyâs intense eyes stare at your pussy until you reach for the throw blanket next to you. He watches you throw it over your lap, drawing your legs up to your chest, and takes that as his cue, jolting into action.
âOkay, so.â He starts, then stops, climbs off your bed and pulls his sweatpants back up. âThis wasâI mean, if it doesnât take this time, we can⌠try again.â
âYeah,â you mutter. âSounds good.â
He nods, bending to pick up his discarded t-shirt. âGreat. Iâll just, um, see myself out, I guess.â
You nod, sending a smile that doesnât quite reach your eyes in his direction. He seems to contemplate something for a second, then leans down to kiss your forehead before saying a quick goodbye and leaving.
As soon as you hear your apartment door shut, you let your tears fall.
***
Itâs not really like you mean to avoid him after that.
Honest.
You simply become busy, thatâs all. You definitely donât go out of your way by taking the stairs in your apartment building to avoid possibly bumping into him in the elevator. No, you take the stairs because you could use the cardio. Itâs important you stay healthy right now. And when he texts you to ask if you want to have dinner, you canât help that youâve got boatloads of work to catch up onâall five times he asks.
Okay, so, thatâs a lie. Youâre totally avoiding him. But what on earth are you supposed to say to him now? You donât think youâd even be able to look him in the eye anymore, not after the fuck of your goddamn life.
That night confirmed what you already knew for the last two years: Bucky absolutely ruined you for anyone else.
More than anything, though, you were angry with yourself. Heâd only offered because you werenât getting your desired results the other way. You should have been able to separate your feelings and emotions from all of it. After all, none of this was about whatever you feel towards Bucky. This was about trying to conceive a baby.
You try telling yourself to get over it. Heâs your best friend, you canât just cut him off because youâre a spineless pansy.
I just need some time, you reason. You can give yourself a few days to wallow over what could have been and then you can reach out to him and pretend like everything is fine. Because it is.
***
Flash forward two weeks to you attempting to sneak into your apartment, only to jump out of your skin when you turn around and find Bucky sitting on your couch, an unreadable expression on his face.
âOh, good, youâre still alive,â he drawls.
His tone suggests annoyance. You suppose you deserve that.
âHey,â you say after a pause.
He stares at you for a moment longer before speaking again. âI thought we agreed we wouldnât let it get weird.â
You agreed, you almost say, thankfully biting it back. You drop your purse on the entryway table, sliding your shoes off and making your way over to sit next to him.
âIâm sorry,â you mumble. You tug your sweater sleeves down and tuck your feet beneath you. âI havenât ever⌠Iâve never been intimate with a friend before. It was just⌠a lot.â
Itâs a half truth, at least. You havenât had sex with a friend before. Or, well, not one you had feelings for.
âYou couldâve just told me,â he replies, reaching for your hand.
You nod. âI know, and I should have, I just. Things are all out of whack lately with the whole⌠trying to get pregnant thing.â
âIf I overstepped in any wayââ Bucky starts, but youâre quick to interrupt.
âYou didnât,â you promise. âYouâve been nothing but fantastic throughout this whole ordeal. Honestly, Bucky, youâve done way more than anyone else would have in this situation. I just had a lot going on in my head and let it get the best of me. Iâm fine, I swear.â
He searches your eyes and must find what heâs looking for.
âDonât shut me out again,â he pleads.
Heart cracking in your chest, you can only nod, shuffling closer to pull him into a hug. He buries his face in your neck and holds on tight.
***
Another week passes.
Bucky is with you as you wait for the results of the latest pregnancy test. Heâs reassured you that youâll keep trying until it happens if it didnât work this time.
When the timer on your phone goes off, you release the breath youâve been holding. You take tentative steps over to the sink and gingerly pick up the test.
Positive.
Your stomach swoops. Itâs positive. You check again, reading the digitized screen, but it stays the same. Positive. Holy shit.
âOkay, wait, no, I need to do more. I canât get my hopes up again,â you mutter, rushing to open the cabinet under your sink to dig out several more varieties of tests.
You donât even wait for Bucky to leave before youâre peeing on the other sticks. Heâs seen it all at this point anyway, and he doesnât seem to care, sitting on the edge of your tub with an anxious expression. The downside is that you have to wait another few minutes for these tests to finish and you canât sit still, pacing back and forth in the small space of your bathroom.
The timer goes off again. You feel like youâre going to throw up when you finally work up the courage to look down.
Every single one of them⌠Positive.
A shocked, happy laugh escapes you. You cover your mouth, turning to Bucky with wide eyes.
He rises to his full height, coming closer and peering down at the tests, then back to your teary eyed expression.
âDid weâŚ?â
Words failing you, you nod, giggling in astonishment. Buckyâs face breaks into the biggest, handsomest, most gut-wrenching smile. His happiness is palpable and youâre suddenly so overcome with emotion. Your hands are gripping his face and angling it to align your lips to his before you register what youâre doing. He freezes and you hurriedly pull away, taking a few steps back.
âIâm so sorry, I-I donât know whyââ
âShut up,â he cuts you off, closing the gap between you in a single stride.
He kisses you like his life depends on it, pressing your bodies as close as possible, his hands cupping your cheeks. You clutch his shirt desperately, never wanting to let go. He steals the breath straight from your lungs when he swipes at the seam of your lips with his tongue, moaning happily when you allow him access. A feeble whine from you after he flicks his tongue against yours makes him break the kiss.
âI have a confession,â he breathes into the miniscule space between your mouths.
âWhat?â you question distractedly.
âIâm in love with you.â
Your gaze shoots up to his, astounded. He brushes stray hairs off your forehead, runs his thumbs softly under your eyes.
âIâve been selfish this whole time,â he reveals. âI couldnât let you choose some random stranger to be your sperm donor, to father your child, couldnât bear the thought of you carrying their baby, because Iâve been in love with you since the moment I met you. I wanted to be the one. And Iâm sorry for not telling you sooner, but Iâm not sorry I did it.â
Youâre hearing the words, yet your brain canât seem to make sense of them. Surely youâre hearing him wrong. You canât possibly have this too, right? You can't have Bucky and have his babyâŚ
But heâs here, very real and solid beneath your hands, looking at you like youâre his entire world.
âBuckyâŚâ You trail off, struggling to find the right words, at a complete loss. âI-Iâve loved you for so long now, I didnât think youâŚâ You shake your head, a giggle escaping you as you stare at him in wonder. âI couldnât let myself hope.â
He grins, relieved, planting a few chaste kisses to your mouth. âI know this entire circumstance is totally backwards, but I want you, and I want this baby. I meant it when I said Iâm not going anywhere.â
Fresh tears gather in the corners of your eyes. âAre you sure?â you still ask.
âIâve never been more sure of anything.â
You have to kiss him then, uncaring of the tears that trickle down your face. The only thing you are focused on is the way his hands trail down your back, pausing to squeeze your ass, then grip underneath to lift you. Your legs wrap around his waist, arms locked around his neck, as he heads for your bed. He makes a point of throwing your extra pillows on the floor before settling between your thighs and kissing the hell out of you.
He pulls away only to undress you and himself, but heâs always back as quickly as possible, lips pressing kisses wherever he can reach. You impatiently tug at him until his lips are attached to yours again. The way he fucks his tongue into your mouth is nothing short of indecent and it sends a rush of pure want all the way to your core.
When you bury your fingers in his hair, gripping it tight, he grunts, biting your lip. You whimper and he grins as he pulls away.
âYou make the most beautiful sounds,â he praises, his hands beginning to sweep down and up, tickling under your breasts.
His thumb and forefinger pinch one of your nipples and you gasp, back arching off your mattress. He repeats it on the other side, just to hear the same noise.
âBucky, please,â you beg.
âPlease what?â he prods. His hands drift further to the creases of your thighs, spreading them open. âWhat do you need?â
You whine, canting your hips up. âYou, I need you, please.â
âYou have me, sweetheart.â He tilts his head and you make a noise of frustration. âUse your words, darlinâ.â
âFuck me, please,â you burst out, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.
Bucky smiles, slow and torturous. âYeah? Want me to fuck you? Fuck this perfect pussy until youâre so full of my come that it drips down your beautiful thighs?â
âOh god,â you mumble.
âIâll take that as a yes,â he teases.
His fingers slide down your slit, gathering your slick then thrusts two fingers in at once. You groan brokenly, shifting your hips to try and get more friction, but he holds them down with his metal arm. Agonizingly slow, he begins fucking you with his fingers. Itâs good, itâs amazing, but itâs not enough. Not when you know what his cock feels like. He takes his precious time fingering you and youâre sure youâre going to lose your mind before the day is done.
âYou have no idea how incredible you felt around my cock,â he tells you in a ridiculously conversational tone. âI was trying to think of any excuse I could come up with to have you at least one more time.â
He shifts until his mouth is directly above where youâre dripping for him, and he waits until you make eye contact with him.
âBut now Iâm gonna spend the rest of my life making you come apart on my cock any chance I get.â
You hardly have any functioning brain cells at the moment, but even if you could form a coherent sentence you wouldnât have been able to say it aloud, because then heâs descending and all you can feel is the wet warmth of his mouth.
He definitely doesnât hold back this time, that much is apparent in the way he devours you, lips and tongue drawing out noises youâve never heard yourself make, pressing his face so far into your pussy that he has to come up for air. His mouth and chin shine when you chance a look down, and when you clench on his fingers his smile goes smug at the corners.
He plants kisses along your hips, the insides of your thighs, around where his fingers are buried within you. He curls them, in search of the spot he found last time. He knows he found it when you try to close your thighs around his head and cry out. Now that he's found it, he angles to brush it on every thrust of his fingers and attaches his mouth back on your clit.
You chant his name, nearly sobbing as you approach your climax, until finally you fly over the edge. Your vision blurs and youâre not sure if youâre making any noise now, unable to hear past the blood rushing in your ears. Bucky helps you ride it out until youâre shuddering from sensitivity.
He kisses your thighs again, trailing them up your stomach and between the valley of your breasts.
âSo good, did so well,â he mutters.
Weakly, you lift your hands to trace them down his toned stomach and around his back, down further so you can cop a feel of your own, smiling at his grunt of surprise.
âThat was great and all,â you say, arching your back so your chest presses against his, âbut I do believe I asked you to fuck me.â
He arches an eyebrow. âWho said I was done with you?â Itâs apparently a rhetorical question, as he continues before you get a chance to reply. âIâm gonna fuck you until you come, and then Iâm gonna keep fucking you until you come again, and only then will I come so deep inside you thereâll be zero doubt Iâve put a baby there.â
Your legs are lifted and thrown over his shoulders in a blink, his cock pushing into your pussy, dragging out a high-pitched moan from you. Thereâs barely a pause and then heâs fucking you, just like you asked. The pace is brutal right from the start, a steady rhythm that has you mewling and writhing in pleasure. Bucky is watching his cock as he thrusts in and out of you, his mouth hanging open slightly as he pants. He hikes your hips up a little higher and you jolt through your startled moan. This angle is divine and the telltale signs of your second orgasm start tingling at the base of your spine.
âCan feel you,â Bucky says through panting breaths, âso close. Câmon, let me feel you.â
He pulls you down on his cock, grinding into you, his thumb reaching to rub tight circles over your clit. You sob through your release, shuddering against Bucky as you clench around him. He groans, still barely moving as you come down from your high.
âFuck,â he grunts. âCome here.â
He helps you sit up, still seated on his cock, making you both hiss from your movement. Your arms automatically wrap around his shoulders and his around your waist. He kisses you so sweetly, a stark contradiction to the way he just fucked you. When you pull away, resting your foreheads together, he grins.
âHi.â
You crack a smile. âHi.â
âReady for more?â he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.
âYou think you got it in you?â you tease as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck.
The light smack to your ass startles you and you let out a soft sound of surprise, hands tugging his hair harshly. Buckyâs eyes light up.
âInteresting,â he muses.
Another slap, a little harder than the first, and youâre whimpering, your walls clenching around his still hard cock.
âIâll play with that later,â he promises, voice breathy.
You bury your face in his neck and start shifting your hips. He takes the hint, gathering you as close as he can and thrusts up into you. He canât pull out as far this way, but the snap of his hips more than makes up for it. You mouth at his collarbone messily, kissing and licking your way up to his jaw, biting marks wherever you see fit. You make it up to his mouth and he kisses you, wet and filthy. You suck on his tongue and a ragged moan claws its way out of his throat. The need for air eventually has you pulling away.
âItâs a good thing you love me back,â you whisper in his ear. âNobody else could ever compare to you.â
He growls, fisting your hair and yanking your head back to look him in the eye.
âNobody will ever compare,â he corrects.
You moan. âYes,â you agree, whining, âNo one else couldâve given me a baby.â
Bucky thrusts harder and faster at your words. Youâre picking up on a few hints and you canât say itâs not doing it for you either.
âFilled me up so good, fucked me so well. Gonna be round with your baby soon.â
âFuck, fuck,â he keens, hurrying to lay you flat on your back so he can fuck into you easier.
The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, your cries of pleasure mixing in with Buckyâs grunts and curses. His grip on you tightens almost painfully as he chases both your and his orgasm. Youâre sure to have bruises tomorrow and you already know you'll be poking at them to remember this moment.
âCâmon, baby, wanna feel you too,â you beg.
His thumb finds your swollen clit once more. Itâs beyond sensitive now, feels like a shockwave coursing through you, and without any warning, you come. You spasm around Bucky and he swears under his breath, thrusts going sloppy. With a final groan, he comes inside you, his hips moving seemingly on their own as he draws out both your pleasures. Slowly, he comes to a stop, but he leaves his cock buried in you like he did last time.
You know youâre gonna feel too empty when he does pull out, so you donât mind sitting like this for a while. Bucky softly runs his hands across every inch of your skin he can touch and you bask in the affection. You card your fingers through his sweaty hair, smiling when he hums happily. It takes only a minute for you to notice the way his hands migrate to your stomach, and when you do you kiss his shoulder.
âMaybe we should go again later,â you suggest faintly.
Bucky grins. âWe can do it a hundred more times if you want.â
âGuess I better enjoy it while I can.â
His smile goes soft at the edges.
Itâs not lost on you how incredibly crazy all of this is. There will undoubtedly be a conversation, a much needed one that isnât going to be simple or easy, but itâs necessary.
For now, though, you bask in Buckyâs warmth and loving embrace.
***
Keys jingle as they unlock the door and you perk up where youâre sprawled on the couch. Bucky enters, arms laden with bags from the convenience store.
âThey didnât have the banana ice cream you asked for,â he announces, continuing before your pout fully forms, âbut they did have the double chocolate brownie kind you love so much, so I got that, as well as the sour gummy worms, beef jerky, and fried pickles from the deli on your list of demands.â
âWhat aboutââ
âAnd your strawberry Fanta,â he adds with a fond, slightly exasperated smile.
Youâre unable to stop your expression from going soft and dreamy.
Ever since you and Bucky figured out where to go with your relationship, heâs been even more attentive and accommodating (and thatâs saying something).
You expressed your worry about the possibility of something going wrong, that one or both of you would get bored and leave, or thereâd be a big fight that neither of you could forgive. He was quick to reassure you of his commitment, told you there was no way he would ever get bored of you, and that as long as you both promise to talk things out in a calm, mature way, then youâd be alright.
It all sounded so easy when it was put like that. The more you thought about it, though, the more you realized he was right. It wasnât fair to either of you to already give up before youâd even started. So youâd taken a deep breath and leaped.
Now, youâre five and a half months in, your belly steadily growing and making everyday life increasingly uncomfortable. The changes to your body were physically and emotionally draining, to say the least. Moreso the emotional side. Youâd hoped you wouldnât be one of those pregnant women with strange cravings, and for the most part they were pretty tame, but you do like to dip your sour gummy worms in banana ice cream. Bucky didnât attempt to hide his disgust over that.
âWhat did I do to deserve you?â you ask on a pleased sigh.
He places your small cornucopia of goods on the coffee table. You sit up, huffing for breath during the struggle. You go to reach for the ice cream first, but Bucky catches your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and kissing your knuckles as he kneels in front of you.
âYou were yourself. Smart, kind, selfless, unbelievably sexy.â You snort at that, but heâs undeterred. âAnd youâre giving me the best gift I could ever dream of. A family.â
Instantly, youâre crying. Heâs grown accustomed to the mood swings by now, taking it in stride as he wipes away the tears with gentle hands.
âStop being so disgusting,â you blubber through your hiccuping cries. âYouâre such an asshole.â
Bucky laughs. âI love you too, sweetheart.â
You sniffle, kissing him. âLove you,â you grumble.
He leans down and plants the softest of kisses to your belly. âAnd I love you, little lady.â
The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and unlikely, but life has a way of turning out exactly how itâs supposed to⌠And you wouldnât change a thing.
#avengers fic#marvel fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky x reader#bucky x you#i can't remember how to tag bye
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Ghostâs kinktober 2024 masterlist Ë・âŕ¨ŕ§Ë
donât like something? donât read it! đŤśđ˝
HOTD, MARVEL, X-MEN, OBX, PEACEMAKER, STAR WARS.
1. Breast worship, Aemond Targaryen
2. Thigh riding, Logan howlett/wolverine
3. Predator/prey, weapon x!logan
4. Gun play, Rafe Cameron
5. Mask kink, Adrian chase/vigilante
6. Glove kink, Kylo ren
7. Pussy slapping, Logan howlett/Wolverine
8. Lap dance, Aegon Targaryen
9. Sex pollen, Logan Howlett/wolverine
10. Pain kink, Logan Howlett/Wolverine
11. Interrupted sex, JJ maybank
12. Praise kink, Remy Lebeau
13. Jealousy, John B
14. Car sex, old man logan
15. Teacher/student, Scott summers
16. Corruption kink, Logan Howlett
17. Dacryphilia, Rafe Cameron
18. Choking, Anakin Skywalker
19. Stalking, Rafe Cameron
20. Corruption + age difference, old man Logan
21. Somnophilia, Rafe Cameron
22. Spanking + punishment, Logan Howlett
23. Breeding kink, Remy Lebeau
19. Boot licking, Kylo Ren
25. Virginity, Remy Lebeau
26. Biting/marking, Logan Howlett
27. Hair pulling, Bucky Barnes
28. Mirror sex, Scott Summers
29. Cock warming, Peter Maximoff
30. TO BE DETERMINED
31. TO BE DETERMINED
#kinktober 2024#hotd#x men#marvel#obx#adrian chase#star wars x reader#star wars#aemond targaryen#aegon ii targaryen#aegon ii targaryen smut#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen smut#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#logan howlett#scott summers smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut#obx smut#rafe cameron#jj maybank smut#john b smut#adrian chase smut#adrian chase x female reader#adrian chase x reader#star wars smut#kylo ren x reader#anakin skywalker x reader
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