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callingsergeantbarnes · 2 years ago

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👀👀 Navy, this was truly amazing and just 🥵🥵🌶🌶🔥🔥

DBF Bucky just hits all the spots and the readers emotions are just on point and I lover it and the tension and conflict of everything she is feeling and wanting and confusion. I am so excited to see how you explore this relationship further.

What Goes Around

Pairing: BFD/DBF!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky is your friend's dad and your dad's friend and nothing more. Until he isn't. Word Count: Over 6.2k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, vaginal unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), semi-public sex, possessive behavior, dirty talk, light Daddy kink, age gap (reader is in early 20's and Bucky late 40's), arguing, light violence, swearing, conflicted reader (everything is consensual!), everyone is a mess, Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Woohoo! Stepped out of my comfort zone a bit on this and I'm so proud! Thank you to @sweeterthanthis , @dreamlessinparis , @buckyownsmylife, @targaryenvampireslayer , @christywantspizza , @sgt-seabass , @lookiamtrying for listening to me ramble about this. Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you as well), but any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated! ***Any soft!dark undertones are unintentional as everything is consensual.***

You met Bethany Barnes your freshman year of college. While some of the girls on your floor knew each other, you went off to university not knowing a soul and had to be assigned a roommate. Your nerves shot up when you walked into the shared room. Beth, as she preferred to be called, was intimidatingly beautiful. You hadn't met any supermodels, but she could've chosen that as her profession with her tall, slender build, long auburn hair, and sparkling blue eyes.

Your nervousness faded when she smiled and gave you a hug, after asking if it was okay.

"You're here!" she smiled more when she pulled away, looking over your shoulder at who you thought was your dad. "By the closet."

You weren't normally stunned silent by looking at a person, but that was what happened when you met James "Bucky" Barnes. With the beard and quiet confidence in which he carried himself, you would've mistaken him for a professor had it not been for the fact that he was in the dormitory. Call it instant attraction or lust, but you found yourself openly staring at the handsome man as he carried a box into the room. He gazed at you, too, or so you thought. Your mind may have been playing tricks on you.

"Dad, quit staring at my roommate. That's weird."

The needle on the record scratched. Her dad. You could see where she got her good looks. He was taller and broader, his hair dark brown instead of auburn, and eyes a deeper shade of blue. One of the hottest men to ever grace the earth, if anyone asked for your opinion.

It didn't matter how good looking he was. This was Beth's dad. It put him in the "look, but don't touch" column.

Your dad, Dave, appeared moments later and introduced himself. Bucky was kind enough to help him with the rest of your stuff and even offered to buy lunch. While he didn't look the least bit upset about leaving, it was clear your dad was having a tough time holding it together and even had tears in his eyes. You understood. It was the two of you for so long and now you were out the door.

Beth put a hand on his arm and gave him a small smile to ease his worries.

"Hey. Your daughter and I will look out for each other, okay? You have nothing to worry about. Plus, I think we're going to be good friends."

She was right.

To your surprise, you discovered that Beth only lived about an hour away from your hometown. Like you, Beth didn't know anyone, but she was friendly and welcoming. Definitely more outgoing than you would ever be. Her popularity grew quickly, but the two of you were there for each other like she promised. While you had lost your mother, hers took off when she was so young she couldn't even remember her face. Bucky did the best he could to raise her. Like your dad had done for you.

Maybe that was why they became such good friends, too.

The two of you traded off different weekends at each other's houses when you left campus and spent a few holidays together. You did a couple of summer trips with your dads doing their best not to be overbearing. Eventually Beth joined a sorority and moved into the chapter's house, so you no longer lived together. Bucky suggested that your dad move closer to his place when he decided to sell the house, that way everyone could still spend time together.

"You wouldn't mind, would you?" your dad asked at the time.

You didn't at the time. It still gave everyone a chance to hang out and your dad seemed to need it more than you. He admired Bucky for being self-made, having a nice house, and a good job. It was as if the man's confidence rubbed off on him. He began to dress better and get in shape. He mentioned possibly dating again, which you encouraged. Your dad deserved to be happy.

You couldn't have predicted it would all go to hell after graduation.

You nursed your wine as you sat at the bar, staring into the abyss of the liquid as you swirled it around. Maybe if you looked long enough, you'd forget about tonight. It should have been an evening of celebration for you. Nothing major, but it was something that meant the world to you.

"I think you need something stronger."

You stayed silent when you turned to your right, slightly surprised when you saw none other than Bucky take a seat beside you. The citrus scent of his cologne filled your nostrils when he moved his stool close enough that your knees touched. Up close, even with the dim bar lightning, you could see the gray hairs in his trimmed beard and perfectly coiffed brown hair. Of all the people you expected to see, he certainly wasn't one of them.

"What are you doing here?" you asked.

"I thought you could use a friend."

"Are we friends?" You asked softly.

Hurt flashed in his eyes, which filled you with guilt. "I thought we were."

You weren't sure if you would label Bucky as a friend, but you cared for the man. He had been good to you over the years, staying up with you and watching movies when you couldn't sleep or listening to you ramble on about your papers, internship, resume, while Beth pampered herself. He gave advice when you asked and listened when you only wanted to talk.

You didn't need to be rude to him.

"We are," you wanted to assure him and you felt a bit better when his shoulders relaxed. "How did you even know where to find me?"

"You rushed off before dinner started and you mentioned that you liked this place," he replied, like it was obvious. "We were supposed to be celebrating. We didn't get all dressed up for nothing," he teased, gesturing to himself and drawing your attention to his large body as you smiled a little.

Over the last few years, you got used to seeing different looks from him. Jeans and shirts tight enough to see the muscles underneath, sweatpants that hung low enough to let the imagination wander, swim trunks when you went on vacation, and even the occasional suit. He opted for a dark blue suit tonight that matched his eyes, but skipped the tie. It wasn't a look many could pull off and he did it with ease.

You blinked and shook your head, trying not to pay attention to how good he looked. Just because you were upset didn't mean you had a right to check him out. It was wrong to be attracted to him and you refused to acknowledge it. Mainly because he was one of your dad's best friends and one of your best friend's dads.

No, she's not my best friend. Not anymore.

“We even kind of match,” he smiled to himself.

You glanced down at your short, sleeveless dress. It wasn’t revealing or flashy, but you felt beautiful in it. The shade of blue was close to his suit. Part of you felt silly for dressing up for a simple dinner.

"I guess we do," you said softly, looking at your glass again.

“Surprised the boys aren’t lining up for a chance with you,” he said.

You snorted, thankful you didn’t take a sip of your wine. You would’ve spit it out. “The boys have never lined up for me, but it’s okay. I’m used to it.”

Boys usually talked to you to get closer to Beth.

“Their loss,” Bucky said sincerely as he held up a couple of fingers for the bartender.

“And we have nothing to celebrate,” you said, not wanting to dwell on your sad dating history.

"Bullshit," he said, ordering two shots of whiskey and setting some money on the counter once the bartender came over. "You got a job at Stark Industries. I'm proud of you."

Your cheeks heated at the praise. "Thank you," you said, sparing him a glance when he passed you a glass. "I already have a drink.”

“And I said it isn’t strong enough,” he hesitated as he picked up his own. “Beth said you weren’t much of a drinker. Not even on your 21st birthday. You were a good girl, weren’t you?”

You were conflicted as you listened. Did Bucky mean for that to be an innuendo? You chose to focus on Beth instead, and how angry you felt. How many nights did you hold her hair back while she puked?

“You're right. We should celebrate."

Bucky gave you a worried look as you picked up your drink.

Your cheeks ached from your wide smile. "To my dad and your daughter fucking each other. Cheers!"

You might as well address the elephant in the room since he wouldn't.

He frowned when you downed the shot, the burn spreading from the back of your throat to your chest. You half expected him to see a clench in his jaw or an embarrassed blush in his cheeks, but he merely threw his drink back and slammed the glass down when he finished. "You sure you don't want to do another toast? I don't think the entire bar heard you."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to make a scene. I did that already, remember?"

You hadn't seen Beth in months since you graduated. Neither of you landed dream jobs right away, but you did find temporary work to help cover the rent for your new place. You wanted to be independent and your dad supported you. But your friend hadn’t even seen your place.

Any time you reached out to meet up, she made an excuse why she couldn't join you or bailed at the last minute if she agreed. At first, you didn't take any offense. You figured she met a guy. She got like that sometimes over boys, but she had never gone that long without hanging out with you.

Maybe she had outgrown you after college.

Your dad sensed that you missed Beth and assured you that you'd see her soon. He planned a special dinner to celebrate you getting a job at Stark Industries. Beth promised she wouldn't miss it. You thought it was strange how easily she accepted your dad's invitation, but you discovered quickly that she wasn't there for you in the first place.

"Sweetie," your dad began as he slipped an arm around Beth's waist. "We have something we want to talk to you about. Beth and I are, well, we're seeing each other. Now I know that may be difficult to hear, especially since I haven't seen anyone serious since your mother, but…"

Your dad used to describe you as amicable and well-behaved when someone asked him about his daughter. No matter what life threw your way, you did your best to be friendly and stay out of trouble. It could have been before your mother was always kind and you did your best to follow in her footsteps. It often meant putting the needs of others before your own, but it never bothered you.

Until tonight.

Until you saw the ring on Beth's finger.

Beth, the girl who flashed boys from her sorority house window and blew off studying. The same girl who cried with you on the anniversary of your mom's death. She was going to marry your dad.

A slow moving storm began to swirl in your mind. You managed to hear your dad say that they began seeing each other the night of graduation and promised it wasn't sooner. It explained why Beth had blown you off all that time. They were trying to figure out how to tell you, but all they did was lie.

Outrage was a foreign feeling to you and you didn't know how to channel it. Were you supposed to scream? Cry? All you knew was that it clawed at your insides until it broke free.

Whatever you yelled was enough to make your dad step back in shock and Beth grab your arm to drag you outside. The porch light illuminated her enough to see the anger etched on her face. You didn't even recognize her.

"What the fuck? You've been fucking my dad?!" you yelled, snatching your arm back from her.

"Yeah, I'm fucking your dad!" she yelled back.

"How did this even happen?!" you demanded to know, immediately regretting asking a second later.

"After your graduation dinner, we were drinking and I said I always thought he was hot and-"

"God, stop!" you shrieked, covering your ears until her mouth stopped moving. "So, you two have been sneaking around behind my back and lying to me for months?!"

"We had to because we knew you'd lose your shit! I knew you wouldn’t be mature about this!"

You trembled as you took a step back. You weren't used to yelling or being yelled at. There were times that you and Beth bickered, but it was nothing like this.

And, of course, you'd lose your shit. What did she honestly expect? Was she the real reason your dad began to take better care of himself over the years?

"Why?" You asked almost timidly, a contrast to how you shouted moments ago. "I don't want to sound cliché, but you can have anyone you want. Why him?"

"Because I want him," she said unapologetically.

Beth, in the time you knew her, was never afraid to go after what or who she wanted. She also went all in with guys. She didn't believe in doing it half-ass. But your dad was far from her type, the opposite of the fuckboys she typically dated.

"My dad isn't one of those stupid boys who does lines of coke off your ass. He's a good man."

"I know he's a good man. That's why I'm marrying him," she snapped, holding up her hand for you to see the ring again. It was beautiful. If you had to guess, it was also expensive. "We just want your support."

You wondered what it would be like at times to have a stepmom. Whenever you envisioned it, your best friend never came to mind. Your dad had to be going through a midlife crisis. God, what would your mom say if she was alive? What did Bucky have to say?

"You're half his age!" you argued, the anger starting to surface again as you stepped forward and smacked her hand away. "What do you two possibly have in common?"

"A lot, actually," she said, clutching her hand against her chest. "You never had a problem with your dad and I hanging out in all the years we've been friends. And you wouldn't give a shit about his age if this was any other guy."

"But this isn't just any guy! This is my dad!" you argued, pleading with her to understand as your vision blurred. Didn’t she realize how awkward it was? What if they ended things? "And you're my best friend."

Beth bit her lip at the sight of your tears. "Your dad and I care about each other, okay? We deserve to be happy. And I care about you, too, but I'm not letting him go. I refuse to be like you."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" you demanded when you watched the sympathy leave her eyes.

When backed into a corner, Beth lashed out like an animal. Anyone who got too close got hurt. Unlucky for you, you knew you were about to be on the receiving end of her wrath.

"You spent all four years of college studying and being nice instead of living. You only had fun when I made it happen. You hardly dated. You're lucky you even got laid at all," she said, digging into your insecurities. It was tough for guys to look at you when Beth stood beside you. It made you wonder how long she felt this way about you. "Deep down, you’re just a fucking coward. Unlike you, I have the balls to go after what I want, so that's what I did. You should find a pair and do the same."

Your hand connected with Beth's cheek before you could stop yourself. Like a scene out of a movie, your dad opened the door in time for him to witness the slap. But it wasn't his hand that gripped your shoulder to pull you away.

It was Bucky’s.

Your hand stung as Beth dissolved into tears in your dad's arms. He looked disappointed in you and said as much as you tried to say something. You waited for Bucky to snap at you for hitting his daughter, but he stayed eerily silent as he looked at your hand.

Did he hate you now?

"I'm sorry," you whispered, pulling away before he could say a word.

You ducked inside long enough to grab your purse and take off before any of them could stop you. It was a coward's way out. Maybe Beth was right about you, after all.

"You didn't cause a scene," Bucky said, ordering you both another drink. "That being said, I didn't hear most of the argument, but I did see you hit Beth."

You winced a little and rubbed your palm against your thigh. It was the first time you ever hit someone. "I'm sorry for slapping her."

"Don't be. She deserved it," he said under his breath.

You didn't expect him to say that.

"Your dad is worried, you know," he said, surprising you again. "Said you aren't answering his calls."

"No, I'm not. I don't know what to say to him," you admitted, finally taking out your phone to glance at it. You had missed calls and texts from your dad and Beth, but you refused to listen to the voicemails or look at the messages. "I don't get it."

"What do you not get?" He asked curiously when you finally took your drink.

"Them," you said, allowing the alcohol to burn your throat again. "I don't get them together. Beth isn't. Well, she's not…"

"Your mother?" he guessed.

You looked in your lap with a sigh.

"No, she isn't, but maybe that isn't a bad thing. She won't try to be your mom. Just a partner to your dad," he said. Was your dad someone who could ground her? Was she someone who could make him feel younger? "They're consenting adults. And your dad is lonely. Has been for years."

It sounded like he was trying to placate you, but something in his voice kept you from calling him out. You knew your dad was lonely. Beth said something similar about Bucky.

"I think Beth is bringing him out of his shell," Bucky gently added.

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve hardly seen them in months,” you mumbled.

“They should’ve made time for you,” he said, putting his hand over yours. You didn’t dwell on how nice his touch felt since he pulled away just as quickly. “I should have, too. I’ve missed seeing you around the place.”

It wasn’t his job to make time for you.

“You’ve missed me?” you questioned, warmth spreading in your face as he smiled. It was nice to hear that. “I’ve missed you, too.”

“Though I have a feeling you won't want to stop by as much now to see me.”

"If I don't, it has nothing to do with you," you said.

"Sure," he smiled a little.

You examined him with a critical eye, trying to decipher what was going on in his head. Wouldn't it be awkward for him, too? Where was his anger at the situation? Was he hiding it?

"Why are you not upset? She's your daughter."

He gave you a wistful smile and had his drink. A drop of liquid stayed on his lip and you were tempted to wipe it away. Or lick it away. You couldn't act on those urges, especially after the way you went off on Beth. It would be hypocritical.

"Just because I’m not letting it show doesn’t mean I’m not upset. Truth is, I can’t control what Beth does. She stopped listening to me a long time ago. And if I tried to force her to let Dave go, it would make her want him more," he explained, his jaw twitching. "I had a few choice words for him since he kept it from you."

"Wait," you swung in your chair and almost landed in his lap. His hands gripped your arms to steady you, but he didn't let go. "Because he kept it from me? Not you?"

Bucky gave you a single nod, making your heart crack.

"So you knew?" you asked, sadness bubbling up this time instead of anger.

"I did. I’m sorry."

Why would they tell Bucky and not you? Did they expect him to be more mature? Was he the lesser of the two evils or worse?

“How long have you known?” you asked, moving off the stool with his help. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

“I’ve only known about their relationship for a couple of weeks,” he answered, trying to stop you when you put your phone in your bag. No wonder he wasn’t as upset. He had time to process the news. “Look, it wasn’t my place. You had enough on your mind with job interviews and I was-”

“You were what? Trying to protect me?”

“In a way, yeah,” he said, making you take a step back when he stood up. “I know how my daughter can be, but I didn’t expect them to pick your celebration dinner to tell you.”

“Tonight wasn’t about me,” you said with a bitter laugh. “It was never meant to be about me.”

Age gap and weirdness aside, you didn't want to say out loud that you felt pushed out. Your dad and Beth would be wrapped up in each other from now on. They already were. How would Beth be able to talk to you about romantic issues when those very issues involved your dad? Would your father make time for you? What if they decided to have a kid?

Were you wrong for thinking of yourself instead of being happy for them?

“Come here,” he whispered, embracing you in a comforting hug.

You were close to bursting into tears, shutting your eyes to keep them at bay. What were you supposed to do with the emotions you were feeling? And why did it feel so good to be in his arms?

“I don’t want to be mad at him,” you whispered.

“You won’t be mad at him forever. He’s your father,” he said, leaning in close so his lips brushed your ear. “But he isn’t your daddy, is he?”

Your eyes slowly opened at his words.

“You want me to be your daddy?”

You nearly stumbled back, your eyes wide as you looked at him. There was no playfulness in his gaze. Nothing to give away that it was a joke. You heard him wrong or imagined that because there was no way he would ask you that. Maybe those couple of shots got to you quicker than you thought.

“What did you say?” you asked.

“You heard what I said,” he said evenly.

You laughed as you backed away more. It had to be a joke and you weren’t in the mood for games. So why wasn’t he laughing with you?

“Whatever that was, I-I can’t process this right now. I need air. I need to go home.”

“You’ve been drinking,” Bucky pointed out as you began to walk to the side door. “I can take you. Let me take care of you.

“You’ve been drinking, too,” you said over your shoulder. “I’ll call a cab.”

“Wait!”

You pushed the door open and welcomed the cool air as you walked down the alley. It didn’t bother you since the alcohol warmed you a bit. It was dark, except for the glow of the neon lights. The perfect cover to hide your oncoming tears.

You turned around when you heard footsteps behind you, but didn’t speak when you saw Bucky a few feet away. What would you say to him? It was difficult to think with him watching you, the air thick with tension. The longer his gaze lingered on you, the harder it was to breathe. If he noticed your hand shaking when you wiped at your eyes, he didn't point it out.

Such a gentleman.

"You're not going home until you talk to me," he said, taking another step toward you.

"You can't keep me out here all night. There. I spoke to you."

"That isn't what I meant and you know it. You're pissed about everything, I get it, but don't act like I'm the bad guy here."

"You're not the good guy either," you snapped, pointing back at the bar. “What the hell was that in there? Asking to be my daddy?”

“You know how relieved Dave was that I didn’t beat the shit out of him over Beth? Or that I didn’t push him away as a friend? You know why I didn’t?” he asked, avoiding your question. “Because I’d be a fucking hypocrite.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’ve wanted you since I walked into your dorm room your freshman year.”

The air rushed out of your lungs. A man who is practically sex on legs wanted you. Someone off limits and you could never have.

“Beth never wanted a stepmom and the women I dated didn’t want a bratty daughter. I almost gave up on dating and then I saw you. You were right in front of me and I couldn’t have you because you were half my age and living with my daughter,” he explained.

You thought back over the years, searching for signs in the memories that he wanted you. The late, quiet nights together. His interests in your studies. How he used to joke with your dad that the reason you didn’t date much was because the boys weren’t good enough for you.

“Been almost five years and I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve tried to be good. What’s stopping us now?”

“I. That’s not. We.” Why couldn’t you form a coherent sentence? “You’re a good man and a good looking man, but you’re Beth’s dad.”

Bucky’s bitter laugh chilled you more than the cool air.

“So, you’re going to pretend that you don’t want me? That you haven’t wanted me all these years and I’ve just imagined the looks and want between us?” he demanded, every bit the confident man you grew used to seeing. “Say you don’t want me and we’ll forget this whole thing.”

You couldn’t say that.

“Say I do want you,” you said carefully. “We just can’t.”

You backed up when he strode forward and wrapped his hand around your wrist. The touch was gentler than you expected as he turned and backed you against the wall, your bag unceremoniously falling to the ground. You were forced to look at him when he gripped your chin, pressing his body closer to yours. His eyes flickered between your gaze and trembling mouth and you wondered if he heard how fast your heart pounded.

Were his eyes always such a dark shade of blue or did you ignore the lust hidden beneath the surface?

"Why can’t we, hmm?" he asked, firmly keeping your head in place when you tried to avert your gaze. "Is it because you’re scared? You don’t have to be.”

You were scared as hell. Bucky is a man. Experienced.

"Aren't you tired of being good? I know I am."

You thought back to Beth’s previous words. How she had the balls to go after what she wanted and you needed to do the same. What better time to start than now?

You pressed your lips against his and it didn’t take him long for his tongue to slip in, tasting the whiskey as he devoured you. He moaned when your hands moved down his torso, allowing you to divulge in the thing you both denied yourselves. Some twisted part of you mourned what you could’ve had for months had you simply stopped being a good girl.

Were you truly good to begin with?

The line of his hard cock pressed against you as he rocked his hips and kissed down your neck. “This isn’t how I pictured it, but I can’t fucking wait.”

“How did you picture it?” you whimpered, rolling your hips back against his.

“I’d rather show you later,” he whispered, lightly biting down. It wasn’t hard enough to break the skin, but enough that pain and pleasure lingered. “You have no idea what I’m going to do to you.”

He moved away enough to push your dress up around your hips, shocking you when he tore your panties off. Tucking the ruined fabric into his pants pocket, he slipped his hand back between your thighs. His fingers were cool against your slick folds and you shamelessly writhed, needing everything he was willing to give you.

“Did you touch yourself at night wishing I’d show up and fuck your pretty pussy until you cried for me? Hmm?” He said, kissing you again as you whined. The light scratch of his beard made you shiver as he nipped your bottom lip. “Tell me you want my cock.”

Your head spun at his demand. You weren’t a virgin, but the guys you had been with before weren’t big on dirty talk. Unless they talked about how amazing their cocks were.

They weren’t.

“I want your cock,” you whined against his lips, desperate for him.

You wanted him to fill you up until you were sore, aching, and forgot why you were so upset in the first place.

“I’ll give it to you,” he promised.

Your fingers twisted in his shirt when he slid his fingers into your wet slit. You couldn’t recall a time in your life you felt this hot and slick. And feeling one finger push inside, you were sure this was nothing more than an erotic, dirty dream.

“Fuck, you’re tight. And you’re gonna let me fuck you against this wall, aren’t you?” he asked as you nodded. “Dirty girl. My dirty girl now.”

His finger twisted as he added another and you nearly smacked your head against the wall, but his other hand came up to soften the blow. “Bucky,” you gasped.

“I don’t know if you really want my cock,” he teased, moving his long fingers deep. “Might need to hear it one more time.”

As if you weren’t practically riding the thick digits at this point and moaning in the dark alleyway, he really needed to hear you say it again? The squelching sound of your pussy wasn’t loud enough? But your body liked his teasing. Loved his demands.

“Please, I need your cock. Please, Bucky. Please.” you begged, almost sobbing when he took his fingers out.

“But you said we can't do this. Isn't that what you said?” he asked.

When you opened your mouth to answer, he pushed his wet fingers inside.

“Taste yourself and try to say you don't want me. I dare you,” he whispered, wiping some of the bittersweet juices on your tongue. His fingers slipped free as you gaped at him, watching as he licked the remainder with a groan. “Even sweeter than I imagined.”

The sound of him unbuckling his belt snapped you out of your stupor. “Bucky, I’m-”

“On the pill and clean. I know,” he cut you off as he took his cock out and stroked himself. “I need to fill you up, pretty girl. Need to make you mine, the way I should’ve a long time ago.”

You struggled to keep yourself upright as he guided himself between your legs, holding your hip steady when he pushed the head in. You weren’t nearly stretched enough to take him, but your greedy pussy didn’t care as he slipped in inch by inch. You moaned as he kept pushing until he was fully sheathed inside you. You had never felt so full and likely never would again.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pressing his forehead against yours as your walls pulsed around him.

In the dark place in the back of your mind you kept locked away, you wondered how he looked and sounded when he was pleased. If he gasped when he came or if his eyes rolled back. You were going to find out though, weren’t you?

You cried out when he thrust, one hand moving up to grip his hair. The quick, hard motions felt as desperate as you did inside. You didn’t care if it was fast or dirty. You were tired of being clean. This wasn’t tender or making love. It wasn’t soft touches and kisses to your breasts or slowly building you up.

It was Bucky Barnes fucking you against an alley wall.

“Fuck, are you always this wet or is it just for me?” he asked in awe, pulling one of your legs around his hip to shove his cock in deeper. “Do I have to chase anyone else off?”

You didn’t hear the words as you cried out. It felt so good to be taken like this. The rage, hurt, confusion, all of it molded into ecstasy. You never wanted it to end.

A light smack to your thigh pulled you back to the present.

“Tell. Me. You’re. Mine.” The gravel in his voice grew with each punctuated thrust.

“I’m yours,” you moaned, helpless to the onslaught and uncaring of the implication in the moment.

Your response encouraged him to move faster, kissing you deeply with a groan. His thrusts became almost punishing, like he had to feel you let go so he could come. It wouldn’t take much more with your orgasm building the way it was. You’d be surprised if his cock wasn’t coated in your wetness once you came.

“I-I’m gonna…” you trailed off.

“I know, pretty girl,” he grunted, gripping your chin again. “Be good and come for Daddy.”

Your body seized up before you exploded with pleasure. You struggled to hold yourself up as you trembled with bliss, your vision going white from the intensity. It was so much at once and you thought you might sob from how good it felt.

“Good girl. My good fucking girl,” he encouraged as he fucked you through it, the obscene sounds drowning out your whimpers. He tipped over the edge after a few more thrusts, coating your wet walls. “Fuck, take it.”

He managed to hold you up as he finished, panting as his head fell back. Your grip on his jacket loosened as the reality of the situation sank in, like a bucket of cold water being washed over you. Why did pleasure have to be short lived?

You fucked Bucky. You let Bucky fuck you. How could you cross that line? Just because Beth and your dad had done so, why did you think you could?

God, what were you going to tell them? That you were the biggest hypocrite alive? That you were no better than they were?

What goes around, comes around.

“Hey,” he whispered when he lifted his head, both of you still breathing heavily. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

“It’s not okay,” you whispered as he pulled out of you, your mixed release dripping down your thighs. You covered your face as he fixed your dress and himself. “Oh, my god.”

You flinched and dropped your hands when he pulled you away from the wall. His expression was unreadable as he shrugged his jacket off and slipped it over your shoulders. “It’s okay,” he said again.

“W-We can’t do that again,” you whispered as he bent down to retrieve your bag.

"Why not?" he asked, picking up some of the contents that fell out before he stood up.

"Because we can't," you said with no strength behind your words.

“We’re doing this again. You can’t avoid me or this,” he said, pointing between the two of you.

“Your daughter is marrying my dad. This whole thing is fucked up and-”

“And I said I'm tired of being good. I’m fucking tired of denying myself the chance to be happy,” he said firmly as he got in your face. “So are you. I know it."

You pulled the jacket tighter around you, not backing away as he stared at you. Did you shake from the sudden cold, your orgasm, or from the thought that he wasn’t about to let you go?

His gaze softened before he kissed your forehead. “Let’s get a cab and I’ll take you home. We can talk about it once you’ve rested.”

You let him take your hand, your feet moving on their own accord to follow him to the end of the alley. “I can get home on my own.”

You needed to be alone so you could figure out what to do about everything.

“You said you’re mine, didn’t you?” he said, smiling when you stopped. “And what kind of Daddy would I be if I didn’t take care of you?”

Would love to explore more of this new pairing. 😏 Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#recommended fics #katie's queue of wonders

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callingsergeantbarnes · 1 year ago

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Where do I sign up to work for them 🤭

They were watchful. Assessing your every gesture and tick.

Predators in vigil.

This paints such an incredible image of the two of them in my mind.

🥵

An enjoyable read that leaves me hot for these two men.

Just reread Room with a View and I loved it the second time just as much as the first. Just wanted to tell you ❤️. I've always wondered where/how Bucky and Steve find their assistant? And does she know that she's signing up for from the beginning? If you're feeling inspired, I'd love a drabble. If not, any fragmented thoughts?

Fringe Benefit

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve Rogers

summary: Steve and Bucky wanted to start looking for an assistant right after their visit to Ari, but unexpected business complications limited their time to organize a search. Luckily, the opportunity presented itself to them on a silver platter… You presented yourself, begging to squeeze in a ten minutes meeting in their busy schedule

warnings: dark Steve Rogers dark Bucky Barnes; dub-con; manipulation; forced orgasm; blowjob; deepthroating; power imbalance; explicit sexual situations; praise kink; breeding kink;

You came to their building - a forefront to businesses that you know are more illegal and dangerous than exclusive properties they deal with - five times, before a stuffy desk clerk written down your name in the calendar.

A small window for a very short meeting, possibly a dismissal, two weeks in the waiting.

You were patient, but in this case time was sensitive. Because money was sensitive.

A part of you wanted to drop it, not clean your younger brother's messes once again. Sense of responsibility made you cave in. As well awareness that if Noah can't pay his debts the sharks would turn your way to settle it, anyway.

You preferred to get ahead of things. Maybe your readiness to cooperate and a solid plan you've made would help you save life.

Barnes and Rogers were businessmen. Lethal mob bosses, but that was a sort of business too. And you knew how to deal with difficult clients as well demanding bosses.

So you poised yourself in calm, controlled demeanor as you sat down on a leather chair in front of a huge desk, holding your head high as two pairs of blue eyes settled on you.

Those eyes were more lively than you expected. Instead of sleazy, older men you thought you'd see, stinking of cigars, with greasy stains on their chins; you faced two men in their prime.

Handsome, to express it chastely. Fucking hot, if you'd describe them to your friends.

In their late thirties, maybe early forties; one with neatly trimmed beard, the other with some scruff. Perfectly tailored suits on lean, muscled bodies. They both had blue eyes; one an icy shade that cut through you, the other the depths of ocean that swallowed you whole.

They were watchful. Assessing your every gesture and tick.

Predators in vigil.

It's been a long while since anyone studied you so intensely. It made you feel uneasy, but also sent a hot wave through your bloodstream.

For a second you dropped your gaze to the folder you held on your lap, your hands gently clasped over it. Somehow you managed not to shiver.

You lifted your head up, meeting their gazes evenly. You weren't dumb enough to throw them an open challenge, but you hoped to look confident.

You wanted to introduce yourself, but Mr Rogers was faster, greeting you in a way that suggested they already knew a lot about you. More than just your first and last name. Probably did a background check on you. For the meeting purposes, you assumed.

After taking an encouraging breath, you began presenting your idea for a solution regarding your brother's debt.

All summed up and divided into regular payments, with extra interest included of course. And a big deposit right away, all your savings ready to give to them.

"You're very thorough." Mr Barnes commented, taking the folder from you when you pushed it forward, but not opening it.

"Indeed, she is." Mr Rogers nodded, rubbing his lip in thought. "A dedicated, hardworking girl, aren't you, doll?"

You frowned at the sweet, condescending nickname. You considered reminding him you had a name, but letting it go was a small price for leaving this meeting victorious.

"It's a good proposition," Rogers continued, "but has a few disadvantages. The main one is that there's a small chance your brother finds a job with decent salary to match yours, so you can pay us in the time you promise."

"Shitty brother at that," joined Barnes, "to burden his sister with this kind of debt. You sure want to take it up on yourself?"

He didn't sound as if he was only mocking Noah. No, there was an undertone of displeasure and annoyance, like he truly couldn't imagine causing a sister any grief or trouble.

"Me not taking it won't change the fact it falls on me anyway if Noah fails to deliver."

You weren't naive to think their wrath would skip Noah's family, if he failed. Or that you could go to the police with it. You were quite sure they had many high-ups on their payroll.

Rogers and Barnes exchanged looks. Something passed between them, though you weren't sure what they debated on silently.

"Since you have the spine and honor to come to us on your own and propose something actually smart," Rogers opened a drawer and pulled out a printed document, "we want to give you a counter-offer."

"Which is?" You narrowed your eyes as he slid papers across the desk towards you.

"As it happens, we have an open spot for a personal assistant. For us." Barnes smiled. It was as charming, as lethal.

"Long hours, including after hours if we wish. But we'd pay you double what you earn now. Also provide paid vacation and sick days, medical care. Bonuses of various kinds." Rogers' smooth voice tempted to trust their offer.

"That- that makes no sense." You shook your head, trying (and failing) to take your eyes away from his.

"You'd be paying me and I would be paying it back to you as compensation for my brother's debt. Your own money returning to you. Where's the gain?"

"Oh, doll," Barnes licked his lips as he leaned forward, "we will reap many benefits from your service."

"Benefits?" You swallowed hard, trying not to react impulsively to the implication behind his words.

Your mind instantly flashed with sinful images; indecent demands and harassment that should outrage you.

But then you reminded yourself that these men probably had stunning girlfriends, or even had a different beauty in their beds every weekend. They could afford the most exclusive escorts, if they wanted to. They wouldn't hire an assistant just to fuck her dumb.

Instead, you thought of all the other ways businessmen and businesswomen benefited from having a personal assistant. You vaguely remembered that from the time you worked as one right after college - not only assisting in the business area, but picking up laundry, buying coffee, buying gifts for girlfriends because they forgot to.

"Yes." Rogers smiled for the first time. "We'll make certain what you do for us is worth every penny of your brother's debt."

They allowed you twenty four hours to think on their offer.

Considering what you would gain, not only in your own payment, but with their proposed salary your brother's debt could be payed much much sooner, lifting the heavy burden from your shoulders.

Money wise, it was a gift like a star from the sky.

You feared participating in the other side of their business, but you told yourself they wouldn't take a meager assistant to a crime scene.

Though maybe you'll have to wash the blood off their shirts. That you could do, you supposed.

So you agreed.

In the first few days your work passed just as you predicted - long hours of trotting between their office and various places they sent you on errands.

But you were a quick learner and memorized their coffee and snack choices after three days; as well the fact Mr Barnes liked to sit in the armchair after a tougher negotiation and listen to music, and Mr Rogers went to the old boxing gym that was rarely frequented by anyone.

You ordered lunch for them if they were in the office. Twice they came back from whatever business they've been dealing with in the field, with pastries for you. Which was thoughtful and sweet, you thought.

Yes, the work was tiring and sometimes hectic (keeping up with their long strides proved to be a little difficult for you), but not as awful or blood-filled as you feared at first.

It was after about two weeks when you entered their office, pen and pad in hand, ready to take more requests for the rest of the day.

"Anything particular for lunch that you wish?" You asked, walking right into the center of the room.

You smiled - not only a false, practiced grimace, but their handsome faces and the crinkles in the corners of their eyes when they smiled in return always made you content.

Focused on Mr Barnes leaning against the desk watching you like a hawk, you didn't notice Mr Rogers closing the door behind you and locking it.

"As a matter of fact, I've been craving something for many days now." Barnes said, curling a finger at you and motioning for you to step closer.

You felt a rush of heat wash over you. His words, spoken in that low, seductive voice, and his beckoning weren't that subtle.

"Um," you bit your lip, feeling your cheeks flush. But you made little steps forward. "I- I can order anything you wish, Mr Barnes."

"No," he chuckled and suddenly grabbed you by the hips, pulling you close. "We will be ordering. Anything we wish."

"That's inappropriate, sir." You laughed nervously and tried to step away, though your resistance wasn't as fierce as it should.

"If you consider that inappropriate," Rogers' voice resounded in your ear as he slid behind you, caging you between the two of them-

"I wonder what you'll think of all the things we're going to do to you."

"S-sir," you trembled as Barnes traced your lips with his finger, as Rogers' tongue flicked your earlobe. "You shouldn't- I shouldn't-"

You shouldn't want it.

A part of you didn't, the scared part that feared awful things being done to you. Those two men killed without blinking, they made people disappear and suffer. They could break you.

The rest of you roused with thrill and anticipation. Your skin pebbling with goosebumps where their hands started roaming.

"You can use our first names, doll. And may I remind you of paragraph seven, point five of our contract." Rogers whispered, rolling the fabric of your pencil skirt up.

"Assistant will also fulfill requests and see to the well being of employers in matters regarding health and body."

"But-" a gasp interrupted your own words when Steve sucked on your earlobe at the same time that Bucky slid a finger past your lips.

"And our bodies really need your assistance right now." Bucky chuckled, slowly pulling his finger from your mouth.

He replaced it with his own lips. Soft, but demanding. A kiss that went deeper and rougher than you ever experienced before.

Then Steve's mouth was on your neck, licking and biting. And they both chuckled when you made a helpless sound as they began pulling your panties down your legs.

Everything was a haze of sensations and chaos of adrenaline buzzing through you. The world slipped from your grasp, as did your control over yourself. Your body was pliant in their hold. You wouldn't stand a chance even if you tried to fight them off, they were much stronger. Bigger. Dangerous.

And for some insane reason it made you wetter.

They pushed you onto your knees. Cold floor harsh under your knees, pressed suit pants and shiny shoes appearing in your vision.

Steve forced your legs to part wider and slipped his hand up your thigh, right over to your slick folds. He had his other hand weaved into your hair, holding a fistful in a strong grip.

Bucky's fingers were in your hair, too. Only slightly gentler in their hold.

They both moved your head back and forth over Bucky's cock.

"For someone who says they shouldn't do it, you enjoy it a lot, doll." Steve laughed cruelly, pushing two fingers into you.

Your whine resonated on Bucky's dick, a pleasant groan falling from his lips at the sensation.

Your hands clawed at Bucky's thighs, nails scratching his skin, but he didn't seem to mind it.

"And you look like you're loving every second of it, too." He patted your cheek.

Your started tearing up - from gagging every time Bucky pushed deeper and deeper into your mouth, and from the growing tension Steve's ministrations provoked.

His fingers inside you curled and his thumb rubbed merciless circles over your clit, pushing you steadily toward the precipice.

"That's it," Steve rasped in your ear. "You're going to cum with a cock down your throat."

Your moan sounded gargled as you choked on Bucky's dick when the head of it bumped the back of your throat. Tears streamed down your cheeks, smudging your make up.

"You'll learn to love it, dollface." Bucky cooed at you, pushing right back in after giving you a second to catch your breath.

"Learn to associate having our cocks in your mouth with ultimate pleasure." Steve mouthed on your shoulder, his fingers never ceasing in their torment.

And he was driving you towards climax expertly.

Your sounds pitched higher, your body shaking as you felt tension coiling in your belly. Steve kept urging you on, murmuring dark, filthy promises of breaking you.

Bucky slowed his movements, but each time he drove his hips into your face, forcing his cock down your throat.

He withdrew partly, keeping his dick on your tongue as he held your head in place, when Steve growled - "She's gonna cum now."

You don't know if it was his command, or maybe you really were right on the edge, but you shattered right after he spoke those words. A loud, pitiful keen, partially muffled by the dick in your mouth; tears falling freely.

Your body seized, but Steve quickly let go of your hair and wrapped a strong arm around you, holding you to him. His fingers were still buried in your soaked cunt, thumb giving your pulsing clit some reprieve.

Your head throbbed with white noise, your lungs burned. Everything slowly settled down, your consciousness falling back into your body.

Before you had a chance to calm down fully, Steve's thumb on your clit started moving again. In wicked eights this time.

"N-no-" your weak objection was cut short by a cock pushing back into your throat.

Bucky gripped the sides of your head harsher, pushing his hips forward. He forced you to swallow him to the root, his balls slapping your chin.

He didn't withdraw fully now, only rocked against your face, keeping himself at the back of your mouth. Each push forced strings of saliva to dribble out of your lips and down your chin, smearing on his sack.

Steve set a different rhythm on your clit now, somehow managing to arouse it all anew.

One of your hands tried to blindly grab his wrist when he thrust a third finger inside you.

"Take it, doll." He ordered, moving his digits ruthlessly despite your attempts to stop him.

"It's only three fingers. My cock will stretch you wider when I take your tight cunt."

You didn't know if Bucky finished first and that's what set you off again, soundlessly screaming as he spilled down your throat; or if Steve pushed you over the edge and your helpless, choking sounds made Bucky burst.

He groaned loudly, rutting his hips against your face as he came. Then withdrew slightly, keeping his still spurting cock on your tongue.

His icy gaze turned warmer as he watched you from above, admiring your ruined state and the pool of white cum sliding down the back of your tongue.

Steve pulled his fingers out of your sopping pussy at the same time that Bucky finally eased out of your mouth completely. The squelching sound of your cunt flushed you with embarrassment.

"Kiss the tip," Bucky's voice was soft, but you knew it was an order nonetheless.

You hesitated only a second, mostly due to tiredness. Steve slapped your puffed pussy in reprimand, causing you to squeak and lean forward instantly, placing a kiss on the head of Bucky's softening cock.

"Good girl." Their praise made your head swim. Or maybe it was the post-orgasmic exhaustion.

"You're perfect." Steve kissed your temple.

He was surprisingly gentle as he helped you up. Your legs slightly wobbled as you straightened and Steve quickly slipped an arm under your knees, picking you up bridal style.

You snuggled to him as he moved around the room. You heard some shuffling, items being moved away.

Then you were being lowered down, cool, solid surface beneath your back. A sound of chair being moved and a telling jangle of buckle belt being undone.

Steve's face appeared above you as you blinked your eyes open. He tapped your cheek a few times, rousing you back to consciousness.

Someone's hands moved up your legs - Bucky, you realized. He spread your thighs open, his hot breath puffing over your swollen, wet folds.

Steve gripped under your chin and forced you to tilt your head back.

"Ask me to fuck your mouth." His fingers wrapped around your throat.

He didn't clench them; his hold merely a reminder of who was in charge, and how easily he could hurt you.

"P-please, Steve, fuck my mouth." Your voice cracked.

You weren't sure there was enough air in your lugs left to survive another cock down your throat.

"More." Steve demanded. "I know you can beg prettily, doll."

Bucky nipped on the sensitive skin of your folds, making you yelp.

Seemed one would always punish you, if you didn't obey the other one.

"Please!" You babbled. "Please, Steve, feed me your cock. Fuck my mouth and fill my belly with your cum."

"Oh, we will." There was a dark undertone to Steve's chuckle as he guided the tip of his dick toward your parted lips. "We'll fill your belly plenty, little doll."

You thought he meant coming down your throat.

He did. But he also meant more.

Soon you'd find out.

#bucks and noble reblog #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #stucky x reader #recommended fics

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