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sableseb · 2 years

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KINKTOBER DAY 1: MUTUAL MASTURBATION

🕷 Summary// Bucky doesn’t miss sex, not when he had the chance to spend these mornings with you

🕸 Warnings// mutual masturbation, lil bitta fluff, a smidgen of angst, feels, cursing, sugar baby/sugar daddy dynamics, use of nickname- baby, darling

🕷 AU// SugarDaddy!Bucky x F!Reader

🕸 Note// Kinktober has begun and I’m beyond excited, idk how I feel ab the layout for the summary and warnings, though- may change it. A reminder than any gifs or pictures I use in the moodboards aren’t mine and full credit goes to the actual creators

🕷 KINKTOBER MASTERLIST 🕷

‼️ 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI ‼️

Saturday mornings were always your favorite time of the week.

Waking up maybe a little too late in the afternoon in Bucky’s bed, usually greeted by a warm smile and cup of coffee the moment you sat up.

Only this time you woke up first.

Bucky still sound asleep behind you, early afternoon sun streaming through the blinds as you turned to face him. Sharp features relaxed and breathing shallow.

He stirred when you brushed your fingertips to his cheek, a content sigh passing his parted lips.

“Morning,” he hummed, gruff morning voice filling your ears like music.

Pressing a kiss to his cheek, you poked a finger into his stomach. “‘M bored.”

“How long have you been awake?” Bucky asked, eyes still closed as he reached an arm out towards to.

“Only around five minutes.”

“Five minutes?” He chuckled, pulling you into his chest. “Can’t be that bored.”

“Well, not just bored.” You hinted, tilting your head back to look at him as he peaked an eye open at you. A wide grin spreading across his face and suddenly fully awake as he urged you onto your back, his broad frame settling between your thighs.

“Now?” He beamed, metallic left arm whirring in your ear as he propped himself up on it.

You let out a quiet laugh and shook your head. “Not yet.” You smiled, lacing your fingers in the back of his hair to pull his lips to yours.

“That’s fine, baby.” He murmured against your lips, warm hand splayed on your hip.

Bucky didn’t miss having sex- how could he when he had the chance to spend these mornings with you?

Your fingertips featherlight as they trailed down towards the waistband of his briefs, lips engulfing each other and breaths being shared.

He just missed the connection, being completely open and bare to another person. Trusting someone with yourself and insecurities.

But, in these moments, it felt worth it.

Dipping his hand in the front of his briefs to palm his already hard cock as your fingers slipped into your underwear. Circling your clit as you both lost yourselves in the slow kiss, tongues pressing together and teeth nipping lips. Bucky grazing his lips along your jaw and down the column of your throat, nipping and sucking the skin until a mark formed.

Though, he could see a difference in your heavenly sounds. How much needier they were this time as a breathy whine of his name drew his attention back to your face.

“‘M right here, darling.” He cooed, nipping your lips with his. Pulling the front of his briefs down to free his erection.

The seductive tone of his voice made your heart pound just a little faster and a whimper fall from your lips, your hand not doing the same for you as it had before. Every angle, speed and amount of pressure you applied just not doing it.

“Do we need to stop?” Bucky asked, slowly fisting over himself in case you were needing to stop.

“Everything’s fine,” you said with a shake of your head, being met by lustful blues when you peaked your eyes open. The careful graze of his warm fingers along the inside of your thigh making you clench around nothing, wishing you could just open your mouth a beg for him to help you. Instead, biting your tongue in fear of crossing the paper thin line.

Your back arched when his bulbous head barely knocked into your clit, a blush creeping up his neck. “Sorry, didn’t mean to.” Bucky scrambled out before your lips were on his again.

Hungrier than the last kiss, but just as breathtaking as your hand found it’s way down his perfectly sculpted abdomen. Stopping where the neatly trimmed hair started at his base. “Just tell me and I’ll help.”

“Please,”

To you it sounded pitiful. But, to Bucky, it was enough to have his hips rocking forward into your hand the moment your fingers wrapped around his shaft. His own going into your underwear, groaning at the arousal that coated your folds.

“S’fucking wet,” He huffed, easing his middle finger into your clenching walls. “And tight, shit.”

“James,” you moaned, grinding against his palm. Focusing the pump of your hand on the thick head of his cock. Pre-cum helping you glide along the silky skin.

Adding a second finger and curling the two digits against the rough patch just inside your cunt, your head tipped back in a choked out moan. His fingers stretching you more than your own and finding just the right spot instantly.

“I know, darling. I’ve got you.” He purred, choking on a moan when you flicked your wrist. The swirling sensation at his base cresting higher when your free hand slipped down to massage his heavy sac. Gently rolling it in your palm as your skin grew hotter with each passing second.

The softer feel of your hand drove his mind into a fog, gently twisting and tugging as his face buried in the crook of your neck. Trying to focus on bringing you to your high first, stroking your velvety walls until your thighs started quivering. The pitch of your moans and whines going higher until his name was a jumbled chant on the tip of your tongue.

Every nerve frayed as you released around his long, nimble fingers. Stroking him with the same purpose, lost in the pleasure of your high as he rocked his hips in the same rhythm as your hand.

“Ah,” Bucky hissed, hot puffs of breath fanning your collarbone when the roll of his hips went frantic. Fucking into your hand as he worked you through your own aftershocks. “Gonna come-“

You didn’t even register the first warm spurt through your foggy state. His spend coating your stomach and hand as you stroked him through it, peppering kisses along his shoulder as a shudder rolled down his spine.

The warmth that engulfed him was enough to melt away the fact that you were there with him under a contract, that you weren’t truly his.

————

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sableseb · 2 years

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Bucky Barnes | One Shot | Following Orders

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Plot: Bucky is always grumpy, so you've resorted to being aggressively bossy. But he will show you what following orders really looks like.

Warnings: 18+. Smut with a plot.

Words: 4,8OO

A sharp hiss comes from the man before you and you clamp your thighs around his ribs tighter to steady him, the air pockets from the storm that make the plane shake and dip through the sky already making it hard enough to finish your sutures on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Would you sit still?” you snap at him and grab his shoulders to pull the open wound closer to you and make it easier to see what you’re doing. In a plane, with minimum light and a diminutive amount of supplies to help your colleague with – a colleague that never manages to ever crack a smile, especially not towards you – your current situation pretty much sucks.

“Would you just let the serum do its job?” he sneers back, but lets you pull him closer anyway as he drops his head back down, his elbows resting on his pulled up knees.

“I think it has proven to not do its job, don’t you think?” you snarl and wind the needle through his flesh again, finding it harder and harder to be careful if he keeps snapping at you like this. But your reasoning seems to shut him up since all you can hear now are small groans from the back of his throat when you tug at the torn skin.

The healing powers the serum usually served Bucky with, have abandoned him and you have a feeling it’s because he has barely slept in the past two weeks and your current mission is an assignment from hell that has lasted longer than any of you anticipated.

Yesterday, a fish hook back at the harbour had made a gnarly gash into the flesh of Bucky’s shoulder and you’d never heard him roar like that before. However, once he saw you, he quickly composed himself and made sure the two of you got out of there and onto the nearest jet. That’s where you got clear instructions from Steve to make it to one of the safe houses on the other side of the world. Why so far away, you had no idea, but you assumed the team had to split up because the intel Steve and Natasha were after gave them information that could harm the entire team.

This whole ordeal seems far from over.

So now you’re stuck on a jet for ten hours with Bucky sitting down between your legs and you situated on one of the crates in the loading space as the jet navigates through the storm on autopilot. It’s been four hours and you had slapped Bucky over the head when you realised that his wound hadn’t started healing yet at all, activating autopilot as you grabbed Bucky by his jacket and dragged him back. You were surprised that in spite of his whining and grumbling, he didn’t use his superstrength to stop you.

You’re confused that the serum could ever even heal a wound like this since you’re sure the tissue was stretched too far. So to prevent infection and improve the self healing, you offered – well… forced – him to let you stitch him up. One glare of yours and Bucky decided not to fight you on it. Besides, he couldn’t bring up the energy anyway, especially not against you.

Bucky is exhausted and the feeling of your warm thighs against his sides as you stitch him up, combined with the rumbling of the plane, almost has him lulled to sleep. After all, a soldier can sleep in any condition. Until of course, a nightmare makes the bliss dissipate.

Finishing up your handiwork, you gently clean the wound once more, making Bucky clasp onto your calves for support, before having it covered with a large bandage.

“You good?” you ask him as you throw the contaminated materials away.

“What the hell do you think?” he grunts and you flick him in the head.

“You’re welcome, you ungrateful dick.”

Bucky lets out a huff as you come to a stand, walking over to the side of the jet and pulling out one of the bunks. Moving over to one of the stocking cabinets, you find a sweater around his size and throw it in his direction.

“Put this on and for everyone’s sake, get some fucking sleep. You’re unbearable to be around,” you order and walk forward again, slipping back into the pilot seat as you check the coordinates again, hoping the storm didn’t mess with your course.

“How are you so aggressive when you’re trying to help?” he grumbles under his breath, not quite low enough or you not to hear. So you turn your head to give him another look and you see him struggling to walk. Quickly coming back to a stand to jump to his side, he almost pushes you off until his vision starts to spin. Gently helping him straighten up and walk over to the bunk, you look up at him.

“Because you won’t let people help you, but you’re surprisingly good at following orders,” you simply answer and help him down onto the bunk, your eyes softening when you watch him wince. “Seriously Bucky, get some sleep. I’ll keep on lookout and I’ll wake you when we’re there.”

Bucky reluctantly agrees and carefully lies down onto the bunk. The softness in your voice almost swept him to sleep without getting situated first, but he puts his trust in you and allows himself to fall asleep soon enough.

…

A gentle stroke over his arm makes his eyes flutter open much more peacefully than he usually wakes up and his eyes meet yours. Your voice is gentle, understanding that he came from the deepest sleep he’s had in a long time.

“We’re here. You want to come inside?” you ask him and he pushes to a sit with a deep grunt, your hands gently helping him up. That’s when Bucky notices a thick layer of multiple blankets slipping down to his hips and the chill coming in from the loading rig that’s descended onto the massive grass field the jet had landed on, the warmth from his sleep chilling his skin.

Bucky slowly assesses his surrounding and nods, “How long have I slept for?”

“The storm derailed us from the course, so you had a few extra hours. I loaded everything into the safehouse and have some food on the stove already. I’d say about eleven hours in total,” you explain as you walk off before putting your hands on your hips and staring him down. “You good to walk, soldier?”

Bucky shakes his head back to reality and nods, pushing off and following you down the rig, towards the cabin at the edge of the full forest surrounding the field.

“You stayed awake for that long?” he asked as he sauntered after you into the cabin.

“Took a short nap myself, just to be sure I could stick the landing without crashing to our deaths.” You shrug and slip your thick jacket off before making your way further into the home, walking up to the stove to check on the simmering food.

“Come here. Need to take a look at the stitches,” you bark your order and turn back to him as he walks over, a deep frown still etched into his face even after the good sleep he had.

“So bossy…” he grumbles and you roll your eyes, forcefully spinning him back around and lifting his sweater up over his shoulder where Bucky’s metal hand catches onto it so you can inspect him.

Removing the bandage, you smile when you see the insane improvement to his skin and open one of the drawers to grab a small knife to cut the stitches with. Gently cutting them and leaving just his flesh to do the rest of the healing, you’re almost sure you can see the skin mending itself.

“I think this might not even leave a scar,” you tell him proudly with a tinge of awe, and he spins around to face you.

“Good. What are we eating?” he asks and peers over the stove.

“Hot air for your rude ass.” You roll your eyes and lift the lid of the pan to stir the soup you had simmering on the stove.

In the beginning, you wouldn’t touch Bucky’s presence with a ten foot pole. The man radiated introversion and pretty much only wanted to talk to Steve. After you saw him snarl and snap at any other colleagues trying, you stayed far away from him, despite your initial intention to make him feel safe and welcome. But Steve saw your professional and withheld response to the whole Bucky situation as the perfect asset to make you both each others’ partner in missions. You wanted to complain – you really did – but you worked exceptionally well together. It turns out, when you don’t talk, you get an awful lot done.

It’s not that you don’t like Bucky, you greatly appreciate him as a colleague. But if he only likes you when you mind your own business, he would be dead. The amount of times you have saved him from himself is too many to count and you gave him a scolding twice as often. Yet all Bucky ever replies with is a huff, a roll of his eyes and turning his back on you as he saunters off to someone who won’t be on his ass all the time.

“Always so mean,” Bucky grumbles and lifts himself to sit on the kitchen counter, cleaning his hand with a cloth he found laying around.

“What can I say? Your endless optimism and happiness just brings out that side of me,” you hum sarcastically and blink harshly a few times to will away the sleep in your body, demanding for you to have a nap, making you unable to see the hint of a smile at the corner of Bucky’s mouth.

Not much later, the two of you finish your soup and you get up to clean the bowls and stuff them away, but Bucky clasps his metal fingers around your arm and stops you.

“Get some sleep. I’ll clean up,” he orders, his voice surprisingly gentle. But you frown at him and shake your head with a shrug, trying to wrench your arm loose from his grip only for it to tighten even more. “Not a request, sweetheart. Sleep, or I’ll knock you out.”

“Resorting to threats now, Barnes?”

“Don’t tempt me. You don’t know where I draw the line.” His warning and narrowed eyes soften on you and it tugs strangely at your chest. “Sleep.”

“So bossy…” Noting the seriousness in his eyes, you know not to fight him on it any longer and you put down the bowls, throwing him one last defeated scowl before making your way over to the couch and curling up on the worn cushions after putting a blanket over it.

The last thing you notice as the weight of sleep presses you into the cushions, is the gentle touch of a duvet being tucked around your snoozing frame.

…

To say it’s disorienting to wake up revitalised in the middle of the night, in a cabin you don’t know, where it’s so dark that you can’t see a hand in front of your face, is an understatement. Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, your pulse having erratically quickened from the mind-numbing sleep it was in mere seconds ago, and your fingers dig into the cushions below you to ground yourself.

Swinging your legs over the side of the couch, you hear a loud grunt and something catches onto your legs, pulling you down. In your sleepy state, you barely get to scream before you’re pinned under a super soldier that looks like he went into fighting mode with his eyes closed, your eyes finally adjusting to the darkness.

“Bucky. It’s me!” you hiss and he squints down at you, taking a second to realise before slowly letting go and flicking on the nearest light, still straddling your hips.

“What the fuck, man…” Bucky groans and rubs his eyes, his voice rough and raspy from sleep. “What are you doing?”

You peer up at him with wide eyes “I just tried getting up. I couldn’t see shit, so your stomach became the ground.”

Slowly climbing off you and resting his back against the couch, he rubs the sleep out of his eyes and heaves a deep sigh.

“Well, that’s my rest gone for the rest of the night…” he grumbles with disappointment and runs a hand through his hair. You come up to a sitting position as well and make a noise in agreement.

“No. You’re going back to sleep.”

Your head snaps to him, “Excuse me?”

“Sleep.”

“What. Or you’ll knock me out?” you scoff as you rub your eyes.

“Don’t believe me?” His eyes are on you now and you tense before slowly turning to face him again.

“You are not going to knock me out!” You think. Right? “You’re not going to punch me, Barnes!”

He lets out a low laugh that skitters down your spine and your brows pull together. “I don’t have to punch you to knock you out. There are plenty of other ways.”

Your sleepy brain has a hard time catching on, before your eyes widen and you let out a noise of disgust. And your heart starts to pound harder at the wild insinuation. Why your heartbeat drops to between your legs, is something you ignore for the time being.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you scoff, if only to distract his senses from the heat radiating off your face, “you can’t fuck a woman to sleep.”

He leans in and you are on the edge of knocking him out, but his breath on your skin halts you. “You have any idea of the perks of being a super soldier?”

His voice, that deep fucking voice and the gravel in it, makes you gulp, your eyes fluttering against all your inner protests. Your fingers curl on top of your bent knees and you quickly scramble away, up to a stand. Bucky laughs up at you and shrugs, standing up himself.

But that’s it. You don’t move.

You stay quiet. Contemplating. Like only now his words sink past your skin and into your system, which heavily responds to the idea of Bucky.

Bucky fucking you. So hard and deep that you can’t help but cry out, but sob for more. You crave the satisfaction of sleep after a good, thorough pounding. And by someone who is strong and firm and has a filthy mouth. Someone you have no other attachment to. Someone you know answers perfectly to you, as proven by the many missions that showed the two of you working in such synchronised manor, it almost scared you at first.

Bucky cocks his head, “Is that what you need?”

You catapult out of your thoughts and quickly look at him again, “What?”

A smirk. “You need me to fuck you to sleep, sweetheart?”

Fuck. That is a bit direct. And if it doesn’t make you almost drool.

“Don’t say stuff like that,” you whisper breathlessly. It sounds like a plea and round eyes look at him like it is.

A plea.

But not for him to stop.

“Why?” He takes a step closer to you, his eyes darting between yours. “What does it do?”

You roll your eyes and his flesh hand raises to cup your face. His long fingers tangle into the side of your hair and his thumb tips your jaw up to tilt your head towards his gaze.

“Use your words. What does it do?” he rasps, taking another step closer until he breathes your air, leaving you with none, it seems.

“It–” you struggle to find the words. What he does to you. He makes your blood turn hot and your skin prickle with cold. He makes excitement flutter in your belly, but it might be anger – indignation at his wild behaviour towards you.

“Not so talkative now, are you?” he croons and you grit your teeth at his incessant teasing. “Or are you waiting for me to take it from you? Make you sing instead?”

Yes.

“Make you cry out for me?” he smirks. “Or maybe just make you cry? Make you beg for it – for me. You’d be such a pretty sight with tears in your eyes.”

Your head buzzes and you don’t know whether he is complimenting you or dragging you through the mud. It feels so similar and it has your heart pounding and slick coating the fabric of your panties. You try to say his name, but no sound comes out.

Bucky understands, however, the moving of your lips, and wants to bite them. Those lips. Suck on them, have them tremble.

After all that disgusting distance between the two of you from the beginning, it would be deeply satisfying for him to tear you apart like that. Have you cry out for more of him. He would take his sweet, sweet time, too. If he can control himself, that is. But he wants to take his time – mess you up real good. Have you despise that distance between you two in the future, like he has always despised that distance.

The silence between the two of you is deafening and it makes you want to squirm. Closer or far away, you don’t know.

Bucky doesn’t feel like Bucky anymore. He feels like the devil taunting you with your deepest desire. But it’s him. He’s your desire. And you can’t tell if it has always been there or if he’s manipulating you into it. He could, you know he could. But you are starting to care less, the more he looks at you. You want him, need him. Your bones are crying out for him and you want to vocalise it.

You want him to drag it out of you, those cries and that horrible, terrible need.

You imagine it. His fingers, two of them, curled inside of you. And a drag. A curl. Another drag. Tearing out your soul, one moan at a time, as he peels that pleasure to the surface.

When the quiet between you becomes unbearable, you dare to nod, give him permission. But the thought of a nod crosses your eyes and Bucky drags your mouth to his before you can give your confirmation. It is hungry, but hesitant. His soft lips and his rough fingers curling against your scalp has you whimper softly, giving him permission with your pleasure. And he unleashes himself, groaning as his other hand drags your head even closer to him.

He nips and sucks and bites at your lips, not giving you any space to venture into the kiss yourself. But you whine softly and he complies by stroking his tongue into your mouth, tangling with yours as he pulls your body up against his. Your knees are weak and your hands clasp desperately at his forearms to make sure you don’t float away, away from him. From his promising kiss for more.

The ache between your legs is near painful and you squirm on your shaky legs, needing relief desperately. But you don’t want his mouth to stop doing that. Stop kissing you, Abusing your mouth with his own. Desperate, claiming, slow, aggressive – selfish almost.

“Fuck me to sleep, Bucky.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

…

“Ah–” you rasp, squeezing your eyes closed as pain, whining pain, pulsates through your core and thighs. Your limbs are trembling and your bare skin is covered in sweat. Your arms are aching from the stretch above your head and the grip Bucky has on your wrists feels like a faint bruise.

But you haven’t come yet.

His deft fingers do nothing more than graze over your clit and you shudder, the touch agonising. He’s been at this for what feels like hours – rubbing, stroking, circling, taunting – and you feel like you are going insane.

His deep voice growls lowly against your ear, “You want to come.”

A small part of you wants to slap him for that obvious statement, but that part of you is so small, so faint, you barely know her anymore. No, that other remaining part of you lets out a wanton whine. Pathetic. Completely desperate for anything. Your mouth opens to plead, but nothing else comes out than ragged breaths, your sweaty chest rising and falling as that sweet relief is withheld from you.

“You see,” Bucky whispers, his muscular body only in boxers now, and another press of his finger to your clit has you writhe and forget that he was talking to you in the first place, “I agree with you that I respond better to orders. But I have found myself to be better at giving them. Orders – And orgasms for that matter.”

You groan.

“But you wouldn’t know that,” he continues, “since you haven’t come yet, have you?”

Heaving a deep breath, you don’t deign to give him an answer.

“I think I want the first time you come for me to be on my tongue– ” he muses and your eyes fly open. “It’d be a shame if you passed out after the first one though. You have to stay awake for me, okay? I’m not done with you yet… Wouldn’t that be cruel – to just be done with you now?”

That drags you out of your stupor and you give him the biggest eyes you can muster, the most pathetic plea you can will into your body, “Please!”

“So polite,” he hums and presses a gentle kiss below your ear. But he decides he wants more and drags his open mouth over the skin of your neck, his tongue lashing over the heated skin before sinking his teeth into it. You sigh softly, as it seems any of his touches are a relief to the endless deprivation of him.

His mouth encircles your breast, the warmth making goosebumps prickle at your skin as your nipples stiffen. Bucky hums against your skin, his tongue circling around the taut bud before giving a playful bite to the soft flesh. His mouth dances further down and his hand slips from your wrists, his palm stroking down your arm and chest to follow his mouth. You know better than to move, your fingers digging into the pillow below your head instead. Focusing on your breathing, you try to get through the ache between your hips, that desperate throbbing for the man descending your body.

Both his palms press against the inside of your thighs and press them apart, the stretch in your muscles making you arch your back. You dare to look down and your jaw drops at the sight of his dark, ravenous eyes on your cunt. His hands holding you open like it’s nothing, like they are pressing to the table his meal is on.

It takes ages, his examination of your pleasure, and your hole pulsates in answer to his stare. Your breathing hurts from heaving the thick air and you can’t take it anymore. One hand reaches down and combs through Bucky’s full hair, through his locks and cupping his face. His eyes dart up to yours and you hold back from frowning at the daze he sprung out of.

“Bucky…” you breathe, a soft question for him to give you what you need. What you want.

He nuzzles into your palm with a grin and locks his again darkened gaze onto yours, before leaning down so agonisingly slowly. But a firework as large as the galaxy springs apart when his warm lips wrap around your clit and you could mistake it for an orgasm, only to find out that when Bucky sucks your clit into his mouth, you know for a fact a deadly orgasm is well on its way to shred you to pieces.

He hums lovingly against you and you let out a raspy moan. Your thighs get pushed to the mattress as Bucky wetly suckles at you, your chest rising quickly now as your orgasm crawls higher and higher in your body. And just when you think you’re there, Bucky retreats and drags his tongue between your folds, lapping up your slick from the source.

A strangled whine slips from your lips and Bucky groans in agreement, “Fuck, I know. But I haven’t tasted you yet. Let me just– ”

Another drag of his tongue has your shivering and your hand curls into a tight fist with his hair between it. He hums in delight at the tug at his scalp and buries his face deeper into your cunt, breathing harshly as he struggles to combine it with eating you whole. But the sounds alone, get you closer and closer and– “Bucky!”

“Go,” he hums against you, almost hurried. “Come on my tongue.”

An order indeed.

Body curling, your orgasm barrels into you like an avalanche. Endless weight presses on your nerves and you sob and moan and cry out, twitching against Bucky as his arms slip around your thighs to hold you to his mouth. Drinking your orgasm up and grinding his own hips into the mattress, Bucky devours the feeling of having you come under him. He had been teasing himself, never mind you. He wanted it to last, wanted you more pliant and bendy before he allowed you to come.

He crawls up your body, but you barely notice it, your orgasm still haunting you, racking through your spine and turning your blood to syrup. Bucky takes advantage of your open mouth and licks into it, teasing, smiling, taunting. For you to respond to him, prove him you’re still there.

So you move, languidly dragging your mouth against his as you tangle your hand into his hair again, pulling him closer. He groans into your mouth and a feeling of triumph swells in your chest at the way Bucky’s body melts to your side. Though the deception of his surrender might have been a distraction when you suddenly feel two fingers press into you, instantly curling against a swollen wall inside of you that has you gasp against his lips.

“Oh, fuck!” you moan and Bucky chuckles deeply above you, his fingers retreating before pressing into you again. His thumb teasingly darts over your swollen clit and lightning strikes your every nerve.

“You think too lowly of yourself to think I would be done with you,” Bucky rumbles, his lips moving against the flushed skin of your cheek, your eyes having closed in overwhelming pleasure. His fingers move faster and twist into you, opening you up. Then then slow again, teasing – endlessly teasing. Then faster. Slower.

Unpredictable – and your body cannot keep up as it hauls you closer to your high before retreating like it burned itself. But to burn yourself on the devil – on Bucky. What a delight. You sigh deeply and let the bed swallow you whole as you buck up against Bucky’s hand. He presses soft kisses to your cheek, mumbling to you that you’re almost there and you have to let him make you come again.

“More,” you breathe out. “More, more, more…”

He obliges and presses into your spot so well, his thumb dragging two firm circles over your clit at the same time and you burn alive. You arch like a string pulls you to the ceiling as Bucky’s fingers fuck you through a numbing orgasm. From your crown, all the way down to your toes, fire bursts and surges and implodes. Your moans sound attractive to your own ears as you come, your voice breaking and filled with breaths, crying out to the heavens that the devil made you come again.

And the haze clears, the fog lifting as your eyes open to watch a heady Bucky lick appreciatively at his fingers, the gleam on them reflecting the minimum amount of light in the bedroom. Your hand slides from his hair to his chest and you press him to the mattress, his own eyes widening as you crawl over him.

You straddle his waist, hissing as your bare pussy settles over his angry, hard cock. The fabric is rough to your skin, but you can only focus on his face.

Bucky leans up on his forearms and raises an eyebrow at you. “I don’t think so– ”

“Oh yes. You are going to let me use you and then,” you smirk, “you can make me pass out. Since you have failed to do so thus far…”

A slow smile spreads over his face, “So bossy…”

You answer with a grin and a slow grind over his weeping cock, making him stutter under you, “Let’s see how well you follow orders now, Mr. Barnes.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

5K notes · View notes

sableseb · 2 years

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Damn it, I'm craving a bloody Bucky now. Ugh.

Omg please tell me he comes back from a mission and he needs us to calm down and then we clean him up afterwards?

Sort of.

The Red Door

Summary: You take on a mysterious new client.

Warnings: prostitution, oral, blood, dubcon at worst.

Please, let me know what you think. Leave a like, reblog, and some feedback. Love you all.

🩸🩸🩸

The other girls are scared. You won't pretend you're not.

They stare as you lead the man down the hallway, figures pressed against wood, eyes peering through inch-wide cracks, women with a sudden sense of modesty. You exhale as the heavy boots follow you, methodic, rhythmic, almost inhuman in their unwavering pace.

You stop at the end of the hall, by the door painted red, pulling forth the scarf tucked in the belt of your silk robe. You tie it around the knob to signal others not to disturb before you twist. You enter and wait for him, the metallic smell tickles your nose and seeps into your stomach. It almost makes you wretch.

He pauses at the threshold, the rosy light casting soft shadows across the space. Another scarf tossed over the lamp to give the effect. You grip the edge of the door and hold back a shiver as you look at him.

You didn't before. Not fully. You were too terrified to see further than the streaks of crimson across black leather, spattered across his chiseled jaw, and dark hair. His blue eyes are the only bright thing about him.

He steps through, another clunk of his thick sole, and marches past you. You blow out another quivery breath and shut the door. The click makes you flinch.

You turn to watch him as he walks the perimeter of the room, stopping at the covered window, examining it before spinning back. He moves as if he's inspecting the place. Curious, most men aren't so concerned with the room, just the bed.

Suddenly, he approaches you again. You press yourself to the door and cower. The stench of blood stains your tongue as wafts in through your nostrils. He reaches past your arm and turns the latch, locking you in.

He retreats without a word, not even looking at you. You stand on your own weight as he angles his head until a loud crack comes from his neck. He stretches his fingers, the leather gloves squeaking, then pops his knuckles.

The more antsy customers do better with wine. You go to the cabinet in the corner and open the small glass door. You grasp the neck of a bottle but his gritty voice gives you pause, as abrupt and unexpected as the rest of him.

"No, shit is like water to me," he waves you off.

You let go of the bottle and shut the door. You face him as he strides along the edge of the bed, unstrapping a glove and peeling it off. He pulls off the other and leaves them to ball on the table against the window. He drags his fingertips along the wood.

"I'm Rouge," you offer, uncertain how else to proceed. Some of the men like to have a name, others don't give a fuck. You don't ask for the same as often they prefer anonymity. This isn't a place for renown.

"You choose that?" He wonders as he turns, examining his hands, one shiny and metal, blood in the creases across his palms. He looks at them as if they are not his own, a wrinkle between his brows, as if he is as perturbed by the sight as you. Your more concerned with the artificial knuckles limned in gold.

"Red door, rouge," you shrug, "suppose the one before me went by the same."

He nods and drops his hands. His throat bobs as his eyes glimmer hotly. He looks at you, jaw ticking.

"I need to... clean up..." his timbre scrapes up his throat and he spreads a hand across his bloody jacket, resting it there before retracting it sharply. He bends his fingers and blows out a breath. His eyes search the floor, then the wall, as if he's lost.

"Sit," you say.

"I'm dirty," he returns flatly.

"I change the bed after. Every time."

He shifts and looks at the bed. His sole squeaks on the floor as he keeps his fist balled and considers the invitation. Surely, he didn't come here without intent.

He hesitates and takes the two steps across the floor and sits. His shoulders are straight, posture rigid, head raised like a soldier. His knees are wide as he grips one, once more entranced by the blood across his knuckles.

You leave him and gulp as you enter the small bathroom. You take the small basin from beneath and let it fill with warm water as you search for a cloth. You twist the faucet off, balancing the plastic vessel and the cloth as you emerge.

You place the basin on the table by his gloves and wet the cloth. He watches, you sense him and confirm it with a glance in his direction. You turn and near him. You reach to wipe the streak across his forehead and he catches your hand, wincing as if you've slapped him.

You stare into his deep blue eyes, endless like the ocean, mysterious and terrifying.

"I'm just helping," you say.

You wonder but you don't ask. He's not there to talk and neither are you. Besides, you don't want to know what happened. Rather, what he did.

He relaxes, just a little, and you continue to wipe away the blood. It's dry enough that it flakes onto the cotton and you rinse it before turning back, dabbing the line of his nose as he wiggles the tip and scrunches his lips. Ticklish despite his veneer.

He lifts his chin so you can clean his jaw and you see how the blood has dripped past his high collar. None of it seems to be his own.

You take his hand, the real one, and worked diligently on his fingers. He spreads them and turns his palm up as he lets you. He groans, a soft whisper, as you focus on the task.

"You get a lot of men in here need cleaning up?" He asks.

"You really wanna talk about them?" You ask as you turn and dip the cloth in the water, wringing it out before facing him again.

"Nah," he grabs the knot in your silk belt and tugs you close, stilling your other hand before you can touch it to him, "I don't know why I came here."

"Why does anyone come here?" You counter.

"Fair enough," he shrugs and slowly lowers your hand, squeezing it as he slides further over the edge.

"You want me to undress you, honey?" You ask."

"You call everyone that?" He intones.

"What do you want me to call you?"

"Whatever you like, doll," his tone softens, "you're a sweet thing, working in a place like this."

"You came to a place like this," you say as you wiggle your hand free of his. You drape the clothes over the edge of the basin and return to him, sliding down the tab of the zipper just beneath his chin.

"Not tryna insult you," he assures you as he frames your right hip with his hand, the metal cold through the thin silk. His touch slides down to knead your thigh and he hums. You let him pretend he isn't as slimy as the rest of them.

"I know," you push the zipper down and pull apart the leather, revealing the tight black tank beneath.

He stands and you can't help but take a step back. He looms over you, reminding you at once of the imbalance; client and seller, brute and woman. You guide the jacket down his arms and draw it away from him.

He sits once more and begins to unlace his boots. He tugs harshly as you hang the jacket on the back of the chair, looking at you as he pulls his foot free of the leather.

"I wanna see what you're hidin'," he says.

You nod and untie your robe. The lace bra and thong beneath lend a glimmer to his gaze as he removes his second boot. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slow, his chest rising and falling markedly. He runs his fingers down his cheek as he stares.

"Come here," he demands, all gentleness receding as he tugs up his shirt, peeling it over his head.

His torso is thick, muscular, and covered in scars. Those along his left shoulder that line the edge of the metal are most obvious, like tendrils that reach towards his neck and across his chest. There is blood in those places where it seeped through a seam.

He drops the shirt over the edge of the bed as he watches you approach.

He rises as you shed the robe. You gasp as his metal hand stretches across your throat and he squeezes, just enough to frighten. You peek up from beneath your lashes as his other hand comes up behind your head.

“Are you scared?” He asks.

“Yes,” you answer honestly, “who wouldn’t be?”

He searches you, for something, anything. A crack, a tell. You can see he’s trained to look for weakness, for deceit. In your business, honesty is the best policy… to a point.

His touch slips down your throat and past your collar bone. He traces a line between your cleavage and flutters along your stomach. He pulls away and unbuttons his fly. You go back to the table and open the slender draw, pulling out a condom from within. You return to him as he hooks his thumbs in the top of his dark briefs.

You hold out the square package and he tuts, “I want you to put it on, doll.”

It’s not an unusual request. You tear open the corner as he pushes down his pants and briefs in one swoop. He stands straight, his need bobbing before him. You can rarely tell with a man what they hide below the waist but with him, he’s as thick there as anywhere else.

You place the rubber against his tip and circle your fingers around him, unrolling the condom down his length. He trembles and grips your side. His other hand crawls up your arm and cradles the back of your head. With a nudge, he urges you down.

You get to your knees and look up at him, his fingers brush around to your chin. His thumb lingers on your lip as he grasps his hip with his other hand. You wrap your grip around him and stroke him. He lets out a long hum.

You press your lips to the slight bump at the end of the condom and slowly take him in. The act is routine, almost numb. You welcome him to the back of your throat, your hand reaching up blinding to brace his hip. He covers it with his own as he pets your crown with his metal fingertips.

“Slow down, act like you mean it,” he pushes his hips out until you gag.

You breathe through your nose and ease your throat, inching him down past your reflex. You go until you can’t take anymore and pull back until only his tip remains, poking just between your lips. You repeat the motion as he balls your hair in his hand, purring as you coax him with your mouth.

His voice drones around the room, the tension slaking from his tone. You push your tongue against him as he coos, “that’s it, doll.”

The wet noise of your mouth slicks up and down him, you smell the sweat and blood, taste it despite the layer of rubber between you. You let your hand glide up his hard stomach. His muscles clench in response as he squeezes your shoulder.

“I’m ready, doll,” he snakes his hand under your chin to stop you, “you’re gonna make go too fast.”

You slide your mouth off of him, a string of spit dangling before you wipe it away with the back of your hand. You swallow as he offers his hand, hauling you up roughly so you stumble against him.

“How do you want it, baby?” You ask, breathless.

He smirks, the first chip in his hard veneer. Beneath it all, beneath the metal and blood, he is a man. He grabs your arm and spins you so you're dizzy. He shoves you so you bend over the bed and he kicks apart your feet. He slaps your ass with his metal hand so you cry out. The sting ripples down your thigh.

He tugs the thong aside and drags his tip along your folds as he bends his legs. You curl your fingers into the mattress as he edges inside. Your lips form an O as he stretches you. He feels even bigger than he looks. Your walls fit snugly around him. He sighs as he reaches his limit and your legs buckle.

“Thing is, doll, as sweet as you are, I can’t help but break things,” he thrusts, bringing you to your tip toes as you cry out again. The pain is as fiery as the pleasure, “even nice things.”

Your eyes roll into your skull as he dips his hips again, a hand on your waist as his other kneads your ass. He rears back and jars you meanly. Your moan becomes a whine and you hit the top of the bed. Your bones thrum with the force of it.

He falls into a steady tempo, skin slapping loudly, you whimper and squeal, tortured by his intrusion. His grip is tight enough to make you grit your teeth. The long he goes, the harder, the faster his thrusts.

The bed hits the wall with each tilt of his pelvis and your voice forms a deafening and endless blare. You can barely take it. Your walls throb as your bones feel as if they will snap. He latches onto your shoulders, arching your back as he rams into you, over and over.

His growls and grunts swirl into a cacophony with your shameless song. Your feet slip out from under you and he falls onto you, crushing you against the mattress. He doesn’t stop, bucking into you furiously as he scoops his hand under your chin and lifts your head. He nuzzles along your neck and bites into the tender flesh that curves into your shoulder.

You sputter as your walls vibrate around him, his own motion grows errati and he raises his head to snarl at the ceiling. He jerks his hips, over and over, punctuating his climax, until he’s shaking and weak. He stops and hangs his head to exhale into your scalp.

“I paid for the hour, doll,” he wiggles inside you, “I’m gonna make you earn this.”

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sableseb · 2 years

Text

Midnight Present

Bucky Barnes x Fem! Reader

NSFW

Prompt: Bucky wakes you up with some unprompted attention, and won’t let you go back to sleep until you’ve paid your dues.

Warnings: Overstimulation galore, fingering & oral female receiving, begging, forced orgasm, multiple orgasms, somnophilia, brief choking, pet names

My first published smut. Never thought I’d post any because it’s just not my style and honestly I’ve preferred to just write it for myself, but idk I think this is kind of good and while I’m in between chapters for I’m Glad I Met You I should probably still post to be relevant 🙃 I really just wrote this for myself so it’s not plot heavy or detailed or anything but aye it’ll do

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sableseb · 2 years

Text

Tied Up

Pairing: Bucky/Female Reader

18+ Only.

This fic was inspired by fakesngay's amazing Bucky fan art and strongly encouraged by @delaber

Word count: 4k

Summary: Bucky wants to be tied up, teased, and denied.

Need to know: Sub!Bucky, soft dom!Reader, hands tied, tease and denial, edging, oral (male rec), masturbation, slow teasing handjob, titfuck, p in v, ball worship, cock worship, use of the word daddy even though Bucky is the sub, very light mommy kink, fluffy ending

Please do not post this anywhere else. Reblogs and comments are appreciated :)

Bucky should have been embarrassed. His cheeks should have been ablaze. He should have been stammering excuses and attempting to cover his stiff cock and the mess he had made all over himself. And he would have if he had heard you come in. But he heard nothing beyond the whimpers and moans playing on his phone as he built himself up to another orgasm.

"Whatcha watchin' Buck?"

"Oh shit!" Bucky, once a highly trained assassin, and current crime-fighting partner to Captain America, threw his phone across the room and yanked his blanket over his lap. "Noth–nothing!"

You weren’t supposed to be home until next week! Not that he was complaining, the past two weeks without you had been miserable, but your timing could have been better.

You raised an amused eyebrow at him and bent over to pick up his phone. The erotic noises started again as soon as you unlocked it.

Bucky internally groaned as he felt his cheeks heat up. He was so caught off guard, and his brain was still so full of lust that he couldn't think straight. He needed to get up and take the phone away from you before you saw too much, but he couldn't move fast enough.

He wasn't embarrassed about the porn, but he was embarrassed about that particular video. A video in which a man was tied to a bed while a woman pleasured him over and over, never letting him reach orgasm. No matter how much the man begged and pleaded or how much the woman seemed to enjoy what she was doing, she always stopped short of the final touch that would send him soaring. Bucky had never expressed these desires to you; to be fair, he never knew he had them until today when he stumbled on this video and so many others like it.

He had a routine with you, he always took the lead in the bedroom, and you liked that; he did too. Loved it, in fact. But this…he could be into this too.

But what if you weren't? What if it turned you off? Weirded you out?

You locked his phone and threw it on the dresser before stepping out of your boots and walking toward him.

"And here I was thinking that you missed me."

"Of course I did! I'm sor–"

Your finger pressed against his lips, effectively shushing him. Bucky's mind raced, trying to think of how he was possibly going to fix this. Maybe he could say he hadn't been watching that video; he had accidentally clicked on it.

His panicked thoughts dissipated when you leaned forward and kissed him. It was too gentle for how long he had been apart from you, but it still made his head swim.

"I missed you," he whispered, chasing your lips. "So much."

"I know," you kissed his neck and slowly moved your lips down to his chest. "But it seems you've been a bad boy. Haven't you?"

Holy fuck. Bucky's breath hitched as you threw his blanket on the floor and eyed his heavy cock with heat in your eyes. Were you actually into this? The smirk on your face told him that you were.

"I asked you a question." You dragged one finger down his muscled thigh.

"Ye–yes," Bucky stammered, still nervous despite how excitedly his body reacted to you.

You leaned forward again, whispering in his ear, "you want this, daddy? Want me to take care of you this time?"

You calling him that never failed to turn him on, apparently not even when he wasn't the one in charge. "God, yes, yes , angel, please." Bucky groaned as you sucked his earlobe.

Not even ten minutes later, you had his wrists tied to the bed and his thighs shaking as you teased him with your tongue. You were working your way up from his feet; each toe had already experienced the delight of your warm mouth and swirling tongue. The pleasure shot up his legs straight to his cock. It was big and hard, curved up against his belly, red and angry at the lack of attention it was receiving. But Bucky breathed through it; you were at his thighs now, almost there. Your teeth gently sunk into his inner thigh, and he groaned as his cock flexed, searching for stimulation. Bucky clenched his jaw as you moved to the other thigh, and your breath tickled his heavy balls. Your mouth repeated the same ministrations, yet the bite still made him shudder.

This was it; finally, you were gonna put your mouth where he needed it most. He was focused on trying to regulate his breathing and gain control over himself, so he didn't immediately start thrusting into your mouth. But disappointment and frustration drew a low groan from him when instead, your tongue slid up the seam where his hip meets his pelvis.

"Such a goddamn tease," he huffed as you did it again. "Please?"

You ignored him, moving to his other hip to repeat the actions. Your warm tongue slithered so painfully close to his cock that he gasped and lifted his hips. You did it again and again, humming at the taste of him. When your lips locked tightly around a piece of skin on his hip as you sucked a bruise, he cried out.

"Please! Please," he drew out the word in a needy moan, "please fucking touch me."

Your eyes flicked up to his for the first time since you had settled between his legs. "No. I'm gonna go shower."

"Wha–what?" Bucky stared at you in disbelief as you climbed off the bed and started shedding your clothes.

"I just got back from a two-week mission. I'll be back." You winked at him before disappearing into the bathroom.

Surely you were joking, right?

Bucky groaned when he heard the water turn on. He could break out of his restraints and join you, but you would have told him if you wanted that.

His eyes squeezed shut in frustration when he heard your music start. That wasn't good. You only played music when you planned on taking your time. How long would you make him wait like this?

He looked down his body at his dick. The tip was red and weeping, pointing up at him accusingly. But, he had never felt so turned on in his life. He could only imagine how good his orgasm would feel once you granted it to him if you granted it to him. His hips flexed up at the thought of being denied, of you using him only for your pleasure.

"Fuck me," Bucky muttered to himself, trying to keep the images of what he knew you were doing in there without him out of his head. Soap-covered breasts and wet thighs. He wasn’t doing a good job. Maybe he shouldn't have agreed to try this new kink after missing you and your body for the past two weeks. He could have already been inside you, had you screaming his name…his thoughts were interrupted when you finally exited the bathroom. You were wearing your robe, and Bucky hoped nothing else underneath it.

"Better?" He asked, trying not to sound too impatient.

"Much," you grinned and straddled his waist, leaning down to kiss him. You did it properly this time, with all the passion you both had been missing out on.

Bucky hummed in pleasure, a drunk look on his face when you pulled back.

"How we doing, daddy?"

Bucky's eyes fluttered closed, "Need you so bad."

"What do you need, daddy?"

Bucky licked his lips as he watched you sit up. But you didn't give him a chance to answer before you were hovering over his throbbing erection. God, he hoped you didn't have anything on under that robe.

"You need this?" You gently lowered yourself until you were sitting on his cock.

"Fuck me!" Bucky's hips surged up. Your bare pussy gently rocked against his length. "Need–shit–need inside of you."

"Oh baby, I don't think you can handle that," you pouted at him, rocking your hips a little faster. "You’ll come.”

“No, no, I won’t, please, angel?” Bucky’s voice had never sounded so strained. And he was making promises he couldn’t keep.

“You're close already, aren’t you?”

Bucky ignored you, rocking his hips up in time with yours. His dick was nuzzled in your warm wetness, and his tip caught on your entrance with each thrust. Yeah, he was fucking close.

“Aren’t you?” You repeated, undoing your robe and shrugging it off your shoulders.

“No,” Bucky gritted out.

“Liar,” you smirked and lifted your hips, leaving him thrusting into the air.

“Fuck, fuck,” Bucky took a few deep breaths, but you didn’t give him too much time to recover.

You helped move him into a sitting position with his back against the headboard his wrists were tied to. You straddled him again but kept your warm pussy out of reach, instead choosing to wrap your hand around his aching length as you kissed him.

The sound that came out of Bucky’s mouth as you stroked him from base to tip, making sure to press your thumb into the throbbing vein on the underside of his cock, was embarrassing. But he could not care less at the moment. Your breasts were pressed against his chest, your soft legs straddling his hips, and your intoxicating lips hardly left his.

“That feel good, baby?” Your husky voice made his cock throb in your hand.

“Yeah, gonna come,” Bucky answered.

“Yeah?” You taunted in a breathy voice.

“Yeah,” Bucky grunted against your lips.

You moaned along with him as if he was inside you and gave him two more firm strokes, but when his eyes fluttered closed, you stilled your hand at the base of his cock until his breathing settled. Then you started again. And again.

“Let me touch you,” Bucky groaned as you sped up your hand. He wanted to touch and squeeze every inch of you. The restraints dug into his arms he flexed against them.

“No.” You sat back and wrapped both hands around his cock.

The up and down twisting motions of both your hands on him were too much. He couldn’t even form the words to warn you that he was about to come. But you knew and stilled, except for your thumb, which rubbed achingly slow circles against the sensitive spot on the underside of his sensitive tip. Making sure he stayed on the razor-sharp edge without falling over.

“Holy shit,” Bucky mumbled; the veins in his neck popped as he tried to will his orgasm to continue.

“You close, Buck?” You murmured against his lips.

He could only respond with a high-pitched desperate noise as he tried to thrust against the pad of your thumb.

“I bet you are; I can feel your legs shaking.” You let him go and sat back again so you could see him. The pout on your face made a dribble of precum leak from his tip. “Poor baby, this looks like it hurts. Maybe my mouth will make it feel better.”

Bucky whimpered as your warm tongue lapped at his heavy balls and trailed gently up his cock. You made sure your tongue touched every inch of his cock. The gentle caress of it was both too much and not nearly enough. You looked so concentrated, so intent on giving him the most pleasure you could; Bucky could only describe it as worship. But he needed more. He needed you to wrap your lips around him and take him into your throat like he knew you could.

Finally, as if you could read his thoughts, you kissed his leaking tip, and your tongue slid seductively over it. Fuck, this was more than a kiss; you were making out with his sensitive head, moaning and using your tongue like a goddamn weapon.

“Holy shit, angel, that feels so good,” Bucky moaned, the back of his head hitting the headboard. He tensed, waiting for the moment your mouth slid further down his shaft, but it never came. You seemed content to tongue him without ever wrapping your lips around him like he needed.

He lifted his hips, trying to force himself past your swollen lips, but you moved away, focusing your tongue on the spot under his head that made his toes curl.

“Good god, please just suck it, angel, fuck it hurts!”

You smiled at him, and Bucky knew he wouldn’t get what he wanted anytime soon. You straddled his thick thigh and began grinding on it while you continued to run your tongue slowly over his cock.

He wished you would at least match the pace of your tongue to that of your frantic hips. Then a new strategy hit him.

“Angel, let me taste you; I’ll make you come, please.”

You let out a short, breathy laugh. “Oh, come on, Buck, you think I’ve forgotten about all the times you’ve come just from eating me out? No way.”

Bucky groaned; he was beyond frustrated. His cock was shiny with your saliva, yet he hadn’t even been in your mouth, and your warm wet pussy was so close yet so far. He could tell you were about to come, and he would give his right arm to be inside you when you did.

You teased his cock again, nearly slipping it past your lips but stopping short. Fuck being inside you; he would settle for your throat right now.

“Oh my god,” Bucky moaned and pulled on his restraints. “I’m so fucking horny, fuck, suck it, angel,” his voice was throaty and deep as he begged.

“What’s the matter, daddy? Thinking about fucking my face right now? Want me to be your good girl and take it all? Open my throat up real nice for you?”

Your voice shuddered as you came hard on his thigh. He flexed it up for you, drawing your orgasm out as much as he could and hoping you’d return the favor.

With a tired but satisfied sigh, you slid off his thigh and landed between his legs again. Bucky nearly yelled when your mouth wrapped around his balls. You sucked on them like you typically sucked his cock. Cheeks hollowed, moaning, and messy. You tongued at the tight seam down the middle of his balls, and Bucky’s thighs started to shake again.

“Please?” He whimpered.

You ignored him, sucking him like it was your life’s work.

“Please,” he said a little louder, “please suck my cock, I’m begging, fuck your mouth feels amazing, suck my cock, angel!”

You slowly pulled your mouth off of his blue balls and placed a soft kiss on his tip. “Okay, but you’re not gonna like it.”

Bucky lost track of time as you gave him the blowjob he had asked for, no teasing, no slowing down, at least not until he was about to come down your throat. Then you stopped everything and listened to him beg for mercy before you repeated the process over and over again. Eventually, you got bored of blowing him and started torturing him in new ways. You edged him with your ass, grinding on him while you fingered yourself, your hands, and even your feet when you got tired. Every part of you that he worshiped, worshiped him right back.

Now his twitching dick was buried between your breasts. And just like the video, no matter how much he begged, you got him to the edge and stopped. He was very close to crying. His legs were shaking, his body covered in sweat and precum. The sounds coming out of his mouth were hysterical; at one point, his gasping, whining moans made it sound like he was laughing. But nothing was remotely funny about how bad he needed to come.

He bit his lip, trying to hold back the brimming tears. You were so fucking into this, and it turned him on so much he was buzzing out of his skin. The angry tip of his cock peeked out between your breasts, and you tilted your head down to swipe your tongue across it.

“Jesus, fuck, please, please, please,” he said like a prayer. But it went unanswered as his balls tightened and your warmth disappeared. A frustrated tear ran down his cheek.

“Angel, please, please, I can’t take anymore.” His breaths came in gasps, and his voice shook.

Your hand was on his face in seconds. You made him focus on you as you shushed him and brushed his tears away.

Once he calmed down, you kissed the tip of his nose and then both eyes. “You good, baby? Color?”

Bucky nodded. “Green, angel. It’s so fucking good; I’m going goddamn crazy.”

You smiled wide at that. “I’m glad, baby, but as much fun as I’m having,” you leaned in closer like you were going to tell him a secret. “I really wanna come on your cock. I’ve never seen it so hard, and I need it inside me right fucking now.”

Bucky groaned, “yes fucking do it, please.”

“You’re gonna be my good boy, right?”

“I’ll–try.”

You smirked and straddled his lap again, lining up his cock and slowly sinking down on it. “If you come without my permission, I’ll ruin it.”

That got Bucky’s attention, even as his brain started to turn to mush at the feeling of your pussy gripping him. “Wait!”

But it was too late, your ass settled flush against his thighs, and you both groaned at the feeling of finally being united. You didn’t give yourself, or Bucky, time to adjust. Your hands landed on his heaving chest as you worked yourself frantically up and down his cock.

“Oh god! You gotta slow down!” Bucky’s hands clenched as he fought his restraints. The sound of his vibranium arm whirring with the effort to stay put made your pussy flutter around him.

“Can’t,” you breathed out, “feels too fucking good. I should keep you this hard all the time.”

Bucky whimpered; he fucking wished. He just had to hold off until you came, and then you’d let him have his too. He tried to focus on something other than how fucking good your tight pussy felt sliding up and down his dick. Or how beautiful you looked using him for your own pleasure. Or the fucking sounds coming out of your damned mouth. His hips were thrusting faster than they had the right to be.

“Oh god, right there, daddy,” you gasped as his swollen cock head rubbed against your g-spot. “Fuck my little pussy.”

These were things you usually moaned in his ear when he had his way with you—when he filled you up over and over until you couldn’t take anymore. And now he couldn’t do anything but take what you gave him. He felt the pressure in his cock grow, and his balls tightened painfully.

“I’m gonna cum, oh my god, I’m gonna cum.” Bucky’s body tensed; he swore he could feel his cum moving up to the base of his cock. He couldn’t stop it; he needed it too damn bad.

“You’re not,” you said matter-of-factly, reaching behind you to pull his balls down, effectively stopping his orgasm. “You don’t have permission.”

Bucky couldn’t form words anymore; he was beyond rational thought as he writhed underneath you.

“I’m gonna come for you, daddy, gonna come all over your fat cock.”

Jesus, you were cruel.

More tears streamed down his face as your orgasm hit you and your walls clenched rhythmically around him, trying their best to make him come too. He couldn’t breathe. His words came out between gasps of air. “Please! Let me come! Oh god, oh god!”

But you didn’t answer him; you kept your iron grip on his balls until your orgasm ended. Then you slowly sat up until his cock slipped from you, and he let out a pained whimper.

“Don’t worry, baby, mommy’s gonna take care of you. You did so well.”

Bucky didn’t know why but that made a choked sob exit his mouth. Despite everything, he swore he had never felt this good. You had spent hours showering him with attention, worshiping every part of his body, and now? Now you were gonna take care of him.

You gave him a soft smile before turning around and assuming his favorite position. He loved your ass more than he loved himself sometimes. He sucked in a deep breath as you once again slid his cock inside your tight heat.

“Knees up so you can fuck me properly.” You tapped on his thigh, and he immediately planted his feet on the bed.

You started moving, and he met your thrusts, slowly at first, he was already so close to the edge, and each bounce of your ass made him want to dive straight over.

“Faster, Buck,” you groaned.

He hesitated, his balls already tight in anticipation. “I can come?” He almost didn’t want to ask.

“If you fuck me harder. Give it to me!”

Bucky took that as a yes, and his head fell back as he pounded into you as hard as possible in this position. Your sounds of pleasure made his cock twitch inside you, and his balls got impossibly tighter. He swore they were gonna snap off if they tightened anymore.

“Please don’t stop; god, I’m so close,” Bucky huffed, moving like a machine with how hard and fast he was fucking you.

“Such a good boy, fucking mommy so well, baby.”

Your words broke him and healed him at the same time.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, oh fuck, fuck , I’m coming!” A spike of fear flitted through him at the thought that you’d pull away at the last second once again, but it quickly disappeared when the first shock of pleasure pulsed through him from head to toe. He had stopped moving, moaning in ecstasy, but you kept riding him through it, taking him for everything he had.

“Oh god, I can’t stop cumming,” he gasped, “feels so fucking good,” Bucky whined, finally breaking his bonds to hold you. His flesh arm wrapped around your chest, holding you close and squeezing your breast. The other wrapped around your hips and helped you move.

“Thank you,” he murmured over and over again with his face buried in your neck.

“I’m so full, daddy,” you groaned and kept grinding your hips until you came again.

Bucky gasped as the pleasure quickly turned to pain. He had never been so overstimulated. But keeping true to your word, you eased off him quickly. You turned around in his arms and planted kisses all over his face, careful to avoid touching him anywhere else.

“How about a warm bath, Buck?”

Bucky nodded, trying to talk but giving up when only mumbled nonsense came out. It made you laugh, though, which made him smile.

“Was that better than your video?” You asked as you laid him back onto his pillow.

Bucky managed a weak thumbs up as his head lolled to the side.

“Good.” You kissed his temple and left the bed.

Bucky wanted to reach out for you, but by the time he made his arm move, you were too far away. “Come back,” Bucky mumbled.

“I’m right here. Gonna clean you up. Bath later.”

Bucky hummed in pleasure as you gently cleaned his body with a warm towel. “Thank you,” he whispered as he rolled to the side so you could slide the towel he had used to protect your sheets out from under him.

It felt like you were gone forever as he fought his slipping eyelids. He didn’t want to fall asleep without you there. But just as he was about to lose the battle, you slid in bed behind him and laid your warm cheek against his back.

“Hi.”

Bucky smiled as he felt your breath against his skin. “Welcome home. I missed you.”

You responded by squeezing him tightly. “Sleep; I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Bucky fell asleep with a soft smile on his face, safe in the knowledge that nothing between you had changed and feeling more loved and cared for than he ever thought possible.

no pressure tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @shamelessfangirl-3 @thenhewaswrongaboutme @buckmepapi @summerofsnowflakes @delaber @captainsimagines @healanette @raindrcpsangel @rookthorne @bucky-barnes-is-a-cupcake @bbyboybucket @thestrangestinthisstrangeland

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sableseb · 2 years

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Warnings: nsfw, 18+, dirty talking, choking, breeding kink? just smut

AN: There really isn’t any plot just smut..

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sableseb · 2 years

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meddle about

Mob!Bucky x Babysitter!Reader (one-shot)

Run-through: He keeps having to remind himself that he shouldn’t be having such thoughts about you. There are so many reasons why he shouldn’t; you work for him, you take care of his kids, you’re much younger than him, etc… But sometimes, the heart wants what it wants. And now even big bad mob bosses can deny their desires for too long.

Themes: mob!bucky, babysitter!reader, age gap (reader is in her early twenties), smut

You weren’t facing the entrance to the kitchen, yet you felt him enter the room.

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sableseb · 2 years

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𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐲

summary ─ it was something you shouldn’t have been doing, but well.

pairing ─ exhusband!bucky barnes x reader

warnings ─ smut, +18, dirty talk, penetrative sex, loud sex, unprotected sex bc my man loves creampie-ing, this one is filthy ehehehe

The bedpost shouldn’t have been hitting against the wall that hard for the past hour, but it was. That non-stop thump-thump-thump sound was so loud, that it was so rhythmic that you barely heard your neighbors banging angrily in response.

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sableseb · 2 years

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on his knees

synopsis: even the king of the underworld has his weaknesses. bucky’s just happens to be a mortal woman he can’t get enough of.

pairing: bucky barnes (hades/devil) x f!reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings: 18+ ONLY. breaking & entering, ig technically monsterfucking, devil/mortal dynamics a la hades/persephone, dirty talk, teasing, oral (receiving), bucky breaks the wall, pet-names, bucky on his knees for the reader/begging, size kink bc bucky is 6’6 here in my mind, fingering, unprotected sex, power imbalance, possessiveness, this bucky also wears rings and chains and had civil war era hair, idk what else but lmk if i missed anything!!

notes: i wrote this for me, myself, and i <3

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sableseb · 2 years

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Sweetest Nectar

Pairing: Florist!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Birthdays aren't a big deal to you, but Bucky gives you a reason to celebrate. Word Count: Almost 1.9k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral sex (f. receiving), dirty talk, swearing, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Florist!Bucky will always be a comfort character to me and what better way to celebrate a birthday? I wish I could've done more for you lovelies as a thank you for your support. Thanks to @sweeterthanthis for the idea of Bucky feeding you cake while he...well, you'll see. 😉 Beta read by the beautiful @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog , but any and all mistakes are my own. Banner by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!

Each year you got older, the less inclined you felt to celebrate your birthday. It was simply another day and another reminder that you were getting older. You appreciated the messages and gifts from friends and family who provided them, but the day itself was nothing for people to bend over backwards for. Even having the sweetest boyfriend in the world didn't change your opinion on that.

"It's just a day like any other. It's not a big deal."

"It isn't any other day, Petal. It's your special day."

You told your florist more than once he didn't need to do anything special for you. Naturally, he didn't listen and showed you a beautiful bed and breakfast he wanted to whisk you away to for the weekend after your birthday. It brought a smile to your face how excited he got about the layout and view. He even took screenshots of some of the highlights and sent them to you. It hit you at that moment that even though it wasn't a big deal for you to celebrate your big day, it meant a great deal to him.

Because Bucky is a passionate man and that extended to you.

"It's my party and I'll cry if I want to."

"The only tears you better cry are tears of joy, Petal," Bucky said, leaning up from where he was currently perched between your thighs. He had you stripped down the moment he walked through the door and already gave you more than one orgasm. "You okay?"

"I’m okay," you promised, giving him a reassuring smile as you brushed back some of the hair that fell in his eyes. He fixed his bun once, but you messed it up the moment your fingers twisted through the strands again. He was so beautiful. You did cry a bit earlier, but that had to do with the mind-shattering orgasm he gave you and how happy he made you. “Better than okay.”

Bucky had a bouquet sent to your place with the amount of flowers matching your age. Not only did it have a handwritten card with it, but he managed to get Ruth, Steve, and so many others to write sweet messages for you. You weren’t even sure how long it took for him to meet and get everyone to sign it. He brought dinner from your favorite restaurant that evening after you told him you weren’t making him cook for you, along with a nice bottle of wine and a beautifully wrapped gift.

Which he hadn’t let you open yet.

You were curious about what was under that pretty blue wrapping paper that sat feet away, but you knew it would be special.

I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.

"Then say 'ahh'."

Obediently, your mouth fell open. His eyes darkened as his fingers slid over your folds, bringing the fork to your mouth. You wrapped your lips around it the moment it was close enough, taking a moment to savor the delicious flavors on your tongue. Steve baked you a cake, your favorite, and your boyfriend took great pleasure in feeding you bite by bite.

He also took great pleasure by feasting between your thighs.

"Delicious?" he asked, bringing his fingers to his mouth to lick the wetness away as you finished your bite. Arousal swirled in your gut like he didn't make you come minutes ago. "Better than sex?"

"It might be," you teased as he tried to pull away, grabbing his wrist to hold him still and lick away the remaining icing from the fork. “Tastes like heaven.”

He growled playfully as he set the utensil aside, throwing a thigh over his broad shoulder to open you up more to him. “You taste like heaven,” he argued. Every nerve ending came to life as he licked his lips and stared at your glistening pussy. “The sweetest nectar.”

It's my birthday, but he's looking at me like I'm the gift.

You were desperate to feel his tongue again, digging your heel into his warm back to pull him closer. He was kind enough to strip down when he yanked your clothes off earlier. The scent of his cologne and the shop lingered on his skin, mixed with the remainder of the baked goods that sat feet away. Your already overwhelmed senses yearned for more.

You let him push your other leg to the side more, the metal tender against your skin. The hand that created so much beauty when it could so easily destroy. The same hand attached the man who brought you to life. You swallowed when you gazed down at his handsome face, his blue eyes sparkling before he winked at you.

You drive me crazy, Bucky.

You moaned and writhed when he dipped his head down to push his tongue in, his hands easily holding you in place so he could get a proper taste. Your body still as wet and slick as before, as if it knew it belonged to him. A hand went to your breast, gasping when you realized how sensitive your nipples were. Every part you felt sensitive, but it only fueled your need more. You hadn't realized you pushed your pussy into his face more until his chuckle vibrated against your hole.

"See? You know you taste like fucking heaven, which is why you want me to have more. Don't you?"

"No, I don't taste like heaven," you moaned, arching to push your aching breast against his palm more.

He licked over your clit, circling it with another growl. "Take that back or I may have to give you birthday spankings."

"Is that a threat?" you giggled, your body shaking more. "Oh, no. Not birthday spankings!"

“I’ll put you over my knee,” he threatened, sucking gently on the bundle of nerves.

“I’ll wiggle my ass,” you teased, reaching down to yank on the soft strands of hair as he sucked harder. He teased your soping hole with a fingertip, not pushing any deeper. “Fuck, fuck. Fine, I taste delicious. Sweest fucking nectar you’ve ever had.”

He hummed in satisfaction before he buried his tongue back inside you, sliding his finger in as well. He greedily licked up what your body so freely offered. His talented mouth and fingers made you get lost in the feel of him, your body trembling as he cared for and loved you. It was the first time in a long time that you actually wanted attention today.

You're giving me everything I didn't know I needed.

Your head fell back as he began tracing a pattern with his tongue, helpless to the onslaught. "A-Are you spelling 'happy birthday'?"

Your thighs trembled as his hand slid from your breast down your torso, moaning in response as he continued to form the letters along your walls. If he hummed along, you'd be close to seeing stars. You practically leaked at this point, his fingers and tongue soaking up every drop that they could. You prayed he didn't try to give you as many orgasms as your age.

I'm brave, but I don't have a death wish. Or do I?

Bucky added another finger as he pulled back, his lips and scruff wet as you panted. "You're so fucking beautiful. Should treat every day like it's your birthday," he murmured, casually grabbing another bite like his fingers weren't knuckle deep inside you. "You'd let me, wouldn't you? Let you soak my face before you soak my cock? C'mon. One more bite."

Your toes curled as you let him place the cake in your mouth. If you choked and died this way, you were going to haunt his ass until he joined you in the afterlife. You managed to chew and swallow before you nodded, which was a feat considering you were on the edge of your orgasm.

"That's my good girl. Prettiest girl with the prettiest pussy. Fuck, you're gonna let me ruin you," he praised, quickly putting the fork down so he could get back to work. "I know it isn't my birthday, but I need you to come again. Please, Petal. One more on my tongue. Let me taste that sweet fucking nectar and I'll give you my cock. I know you want it."

Fuck, yes. I want it. I want you. Please, please, please, Bucky.

Your trembling increased as he slipped his tongue back in, your walls pulsing faster. When his fingers curled, brushing that spongy spot inside you repeatedly, you snapped. You cried out as the waves of pleasure threatened to drown you once again, Bucky's groan of delight adding to the erotic melody. He didn’t let up as you rode it out, eagerly drinking all of you up.

You didn't realize he stopped until he moved up your body a minute later, his tongue tangling with yours as you tried to even out your breathing. The faint taste of the icing and your release made you moan as you cupped his cheeks, some of the wetness from his face smearing along your chin. He placed a gentler kiss on your lips once he let you breathe properly, pulling you into his arms and staying close as you came down.

“Wow,” you sighed, nuzzling his neck.

“Still think Steve’s cake is better than sex?” Bucky smiled as he rubbed your back.

“I don’t know. I haven’t had your cock yet today,” you smiled back as you lifted your head. You weren’t expecting to see a bit sadness swirling in his eyes. “You okay?” you asked, echoing his earlier question.

“I know you didn’t want to make a big deal about today, but I really wanted you to feel special,” he explained, kissing your forehead. “I don’t think flowers and cake are enough.”

“What? How are those not enough?” you questioned, breaking through the haze of ecstasy. “You got me a nice dinner, a beautiful card with kind messages and a gift, too. And not an electronic card. You had to hunt everyone down to get those written,” you pointed out.

I’m never throwing it away.

“It still isn’t enough,” he huffed.

He’s pouting and I’m so in love.

Your heart swelled when you touched his cheek, wondering how and why of all people you were lucky enough to have him. “Bucky, it’s more than enough. Those gifts are special because they’re from YOU. Not to mention, I’m spending the evening and upcoming weekend with my favorite person. You knocked it out of the park.”

He blushed a bit, giving you a small smile. “I did?”

“Best birthday ever,” you swore, giving him your pinky so he’d loop it with his. “Promise.”

His eyes lit up, pressing a soft kiss to the entwined fingers. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Thank YOU.”

For everything.

“Ready for me to prove why sex is better than cake? Then you can open your gift?"

“Sex? But there’s still more cake,” you smiled as he pulled you in for another kiss. Your beefy, gorgeous man treated every day like you were his world and today further cemented how much you meant to him. You’d let him shower you with affection each year on your birthday he wanted to.

And you would make sure when his birthday rolled around that you would celebrate with the same kind of love.

*****

Catch up with our beefy florist here. We'll see him again soon. Love and thanks! ❤️

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sableseb · 2 years

Note

Hey!! Your writing is some of the best I’ve read. 🫶🫶🫶 I have a lil request: A dark!bucky x f reader smut lol. I read one of the smuts you did and It was v good so I was just wondering if you’d make another? I’m not asking for much included, probably just a lot of teasing/humiliation? I’m like rly into that 😅 You can plot it however you’d like. Take your time if you’ll make it!! Thank you! <3

𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬

NAVIGATION | M.LIST

synopsis 彡 Your best friend’s dad is dying for a taste.

pairing 彡 dark!bestfriend’s dad!Bucky Barnes x f!reader

warnings 彡 This story will contain the following content: EXPLICIT/SEXUAL SCENES, DARK THEMES, DUBCON/NONCON, humiliation, oral sex (f receiving), somno, squirting, age gap (reader is of legal age), forced orgasm, breeding kink, pervy!Bucky, infidelity (reader is in established relationship - it’s briefly mentioned), overall filthiness 👍

word count 彡 4.7k

author’s note 彡 Hey friend! Here’s your finished request 🫶 this was so fun to write. I hope this is kind of what you wanted! I wrote a little more than planned but I’m happy with it and I hope you’ll be too, mwah 🤍

DISCLAIMER ───THIS BLOG IS NOT SUITABLE FOR AUDIENCES UNDER THE AGE OF 18. MDNI.

You’re hyper-aware of him standing a few meters behind you, his concentrated gaze burning a hole in the back of your hair, the gravity of it inviting you to meet his piercing blue eyes, but you fight the urge to because you don’t want him to know you can feel him, his discomforting stare zeroed in on you. Bucky, your best friend’s dad. The handsome, dark-haired, blue-eyed man intrigues and unnerves you simultaneously, the way he looks at you like he can read your thoughts like an open book. Actually, he doesn’t simply look at you—he analyzes you, studies you, scrutinizes you like he’s assessing you, searching for answers to questions he never asks. And his impish smirk that flickers across his devilish, pink lips only deepens your unease, like he’s privy to all the things you aren’t, to all your darkest, gravest desires.

Brittany, your best friend, is sitting next to you on the couch, practically draped over you as she chews noisily on popcorn kernels and focuses unblinkingly on the flick that she selected hours prior, like she’s afraid she would miss the entire movie if she closes her eyes even for a fleeting moment—she declared it was her turn to choose a film after reminding you that you picked the last time. You have no idea what’s going on, it’s impossible to focus while her dad is leering at you indiscreetly, like he wants you to catch him basically undressing you with his provocative gaze. Brittany’s sporadic remarks on the film or attempts to make conversation are greeted by curt nods or hums as you pretend to follow, but quite frankly, you don’t have a clue what she’s talking about nor do you care to know.

Your best friend invites you over to her house to spend the night more often than not, but you decline most of the time and offer instead to hang out at your apartment or in a public space, unless Bucky isn’t home. You adore Brittany more than anything, but you can’t stomach her dad’s company. It’s his incessant staring—you absolutely hate it when people stare at you, it makes you wildly nervous. Like they’re pinpointing every visible flaw, every physical imperfection, and silently judging you, criticizing you. Based on what Brittany has confided in you in the past, you know her dad is a stickler for perfection, demands perfection, is perfection. And the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree—Brittany, too, was her own standard of perfection. You can’t help but think you are undeserving of your friendship with the girl because you are just as imperfect as she is perfect, and her dad reminds you without fail each time he simply looks—no, analyzes and studies and scrutinizes you.

But that doesn’t explain the glint of a sinful thing in his seductive blue eyes behind his overly critical gaze, like he is simultaneously demeaning you and tempting you. Like he is repulsed by you and attracted to you all at once.

And that doesn’t explain the shivers that crawl up the length of your spine every time he holds your gaze, or the terrible aching between your thighs when he smiles, laughs, talks, breathes.

“Dad!” Brittany calls all of a sudden, rotating her upper body to peek over the couch, “Can you make us some more popcorn?”

Bucky hums, “That was your third serving, and you ate most of it. Does Y/N want more popcorn?”

Two pairs of eyes are suddenly on you, and you resist the urge to cower under the weight of their stares, stammering, “Um, s-sure.”

“You can say no, Y/N,” Mr. Barnes says in a tone that you cannot describe, but it makes your heart jump like you’re in trouble, “Don’t say it simply to humor her.”

Brittany sticks her tongue out playfully at her dad, “She knows she can say no, and she didn’t.”

Bucky chuckles at his daughter’s antics, but he’s still staring at you very intently, wordlessly begging you to meet his penetrative gaze but your resolve is unswerving. You continue to stare at the TV screen, pretending to watch the film. You may fool Brittany, but you can’t fool him—he knows you’re not really watching the movie, that you’re affected by him in many more ways than one. In fact, if you ask him, it’s painfully obvious—how you squirm under his stare and squeeze your legs together at the rich sound of his buttery smooth, deep voice. If you ask him, it’s laughable that you even think for a second that you can fool him.

He observes you for two seconds longer before he turns away, “More popcorn, as you wish, princess.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” she responds in a sing-song tone, turning back around and resting her head on your lap, focusing again on the film, “Can you grab us a blanket, too?”

You can sense Bucky’s voice rising, his protest, even facing away from him, but he decides against it and obliges.You’re actually glad that Brittany suggested it because you’re freezing cold. He steps away for ten seconds, the suffocating tension following, and for ten seconds, a wave of relief washes over you and you feel like you can relax. But that lasts for only ten seconds, and when he returns with two blankets, the weight on your shoulders and unease a-brewing in your gut also return.

His long, powerful strides carry him over to the both of you and he drapes one blanket over his daughter, but his slitted eyes are fixed steadily on you, “Would you like a blanket, Y/N?”

“Y-yes, please,” you reply, avoiding his impenetrable gaze, an alien emotion gripping your body but you desperately ignore it. From your peripheral, you see him arch a brow and the weight of his stare shifts, and you can’t help but feel like he is silently judging like he always does unfailingly.

“Didn’t you learn your manners?” he suddenly asks, and the question makes you flinch. Swallowing hard, you finally turn your head to look at him, and too many emotions to count overtake you.

“W-what?”

“Don’t you know it’s improper to avoid eye contact when you’re talkin’ to people? Look at me when you speak to me,” he orders, his tone oozing authority, dominance, without trying. A feeling akin to guilt or terror swells in your chest and you nod your head furiously, his gaze like a force that propels you into total submission.

“S-S-Sorry, sir.”

“And lose the stutter,” he tosses the blanket at you, his voice dripping venom, “You’re too old for that, don’t you think?”

You start to tell him you can’t help it, that he makes you nervous and overwhelmingly tense to a fault, but your voice dies on your parched tongue and you can only manage to nod your head again foolishly, willing the fresh tears in your eyes to dry. Bucky doesn’t immediately leave but casually glimpses at the movie and questions in a bored tone, “What’s this about?”

Brittany jumps to explain the film in full-detail, but Bucky doesn’t bother to even pretend he’s listening to her, staring directly at you, but this time, he can look at your face, at your body, not the back of your head. You can feel him all over you and he isn’t even touching your body—not with his hands, that is. But his eyes are indulging in every inch of you, making you all the more horrified—and excited. Subconsciously, your thighs pinch together, like your brow, and you subtly, almost imperceptibly wiggle your hips. Almost, but Bucky notices and smirks lightly.

“Do you like the movie, Y/N?” he stops Brittany short mid-sentence to ask you, hardened eyes boring a hole into your skull, “What are your thoughts?”

“It’s okay,” you force yourself to look at him, because don’t you know it’s improper to avoid eye contact, “I like it.”

“Okay?” Brittany’s face pinches in what you decide is a combination of concern and incredulity, “Chris Evans is in this movie, the fuck? Nothing he plays in is just okay, Y/N.”

“What do you like about it?” Bucky ignores his daughter, his attention never leaving you.

“All of it,” is your automatic reply, your chest panging with anxiety at his sudden interrogation that is entirely uncalled for. Is he intentionally trying to embarrass you? The wide smirk that dimples his cheeks tells you exactly what you needed to know—that he is, indeed, thriving off of your shame.

“Why don’t you come and help me make the popcorn?” he suggests in a level tone, but you know better than to think there is no ill-intent behind his offer. Brittany lifts her head off your lap to let you up, but you shake your head too quickly, “N-no! I mean, no. That’s okay, Mr. Barnes. I wouldn’t want to miss the movie.”

His eyes sparkle in amusement, “You can still see the TV from the kitchen. Come on, I would really appreciate your help.”

You’re on your feet before you can even think twice about it, your unwarranted submission dragging you with him to the kitchen. He’s not going to do anything, not while Brittany is here, you ball your shaking fists and exhale deeply, reminding yourself, Plus, he’s never tried to hurt you before. It’s true—he excessively stares at you, and he is unbothered by the fact that he excessively humiliates you with his hurtful words, but he has never touched you, and you’re at the very least grateful for that.

Bucky instructs you to grab a bowl while he heats the paper popcorn bag in the microwave and scavenges the pantry for candy. You’re trembling as you follow his directions, maintaining at least a two-foot distance away from him.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asks you, his tone tender, sugary-sweet like the chocolate bar he’s holding, “Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

He does this a lot, too—strings you along a guilt-trip for even daring to feel even an ounce of unease around him, because he didn’t do anything wrong, did he? He’s always so kind to you, isn’t he? Letting you stay at his house overnight and sit on his couch and eat his popcorn that he bought with his money.

“No, sir,” you reply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Managing a wavering smile, you try not to let your nerves take over your expression, but your cheeks color and your body quivers anyway.

“Then why are you avoidin’ me, sweetheart?” his hip leans on the edge of the countertop to support his powerful body, facing you and folding his bulging arms over his broad chest, “Please, be honest with me.”

“I-I’m not.”

“But you are,” he steps closer to you and you instinctively step back equal distance, which answers his suspicions, and confirms you’re anything but honest.

“You see that?” he steps closer again and you anchor your feet to the ground to prove against his point, but you already messed up, “You don’t want me close, do you?”

“I just… like my space,” is your quick response, warmth rising to your cheeks. You despise that goddamn smirk tugging up the corners of his lips, infinitely smug and almost cruel.

“Your space?” he’s too close, his eyes dancing between different spots on your flushed face, but you still don’t move. You do shrink, an attempt to get away from him without having to walk away, and the smugness slathered across his gorgeous features only heightens.

Your dewy eyes flit over to Brittany, who is still intensely focused on the film as though she is hanging onto every word that spills out of Chris Evans’ mouth, completely unaware of the circumstances. Bucky scoots closer, practically imprisoning you between his bulky figure and the counter.

Your heart leaps in your chest—in fact, all your organs feel like they’re failing as he cages you in his beefy arms and the tip of his nose brushes over the base of your neck, right above your collarbone. The tingles that result in the tips of your fingers, your toes, and in your core are what you imagine heaven feels like.

“Are you still datin’ that vanilla bastard you brought with you a couple months ago?” he suddenly questions in a hushed tone, dragging his wet lips up the column of your neck to your earlobe. Peter, your long-term boyfriend of two and a half years. The two of you are highschool sweethearts, and you love him more than words can embody. Peter! The reminder that you have a boyfriend dashes you back to earth.

“Y-Y-Yes,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. You crane your neck to move your face away from him, but that’s your first mistake—Bucky interprets this as an invitation to pepper light, wet kisses all over the burning skin of your neck.

Your eyelids flutter shut for a nanosecond before you peel them open and press your trembling fists against Bucky’s solid chest, “Wait, wait… what about Brittany—”

“Sh, sh,” Bucky hushes you, “Don’t you like this? I see how you react to me, baby.”

“I… I don’t know what y-you’re talking about,” you say as your thighs conveniently clench together, and Bucky titters breathily against your glistening neck, detecting the irony behind your words.

“Filthy girl,” he drawls, his fingertips skimming over the side of your bare thigh, and you instantly regret wearing little shorts and not opting for sweatpants instead. His nose bumps your jaw and he inhales deeply, breathing in your flowery scent.

“Tell me, Y/N,” he weaves his long, thick fingers in your unkempt hair, “Tell me how he pleasures you. Does he satisfy you? Make you cum? Fuck you senseless until you’re reduced to tears?”

Your heart is hammering against your ribcage at impossible speeds, you fear it will burst out of your chest if Bucky doesn’t let up. Curling your lip, you spit with the little assurance you can muster, “Mr. Barnes, let me go. This isn’t right.”

“What isn’t right?” Mr. Barnes asks in an innocent tone, but the wild smirk on his face is everything but innocent, “It isn’t right that your legs are pinched together? That you’re dripping right now and I haven’t even touched you properly yet?”

“Mr. Barnes,” your tone is desperate with a hint of fear, “Mr. Barnes, please.”

Suddenly, he shoves a large hand into your shorts, over your underwear, and if it wasn’t for his death-grip on you, surely you would’ve collapsed, you’re overwhelmed by too many new sensations. You bite his shoulder to muffle your moan that crawls out of you without warning, clinging onto his bulky biceps for purchase.

The rough pad of his middle digit swipes across your sopping wet slit over the material of your cotton panties and presses up against your small hole teasingly, and you mewl quietly, tears springing in your eyes. A low groan vibrates in his chest.

“I knew it,” he whispers erotically in your ear, “I knew you were a dirty little slut, your little pussy droolin’ for a man who isn’t your boyfriend, who’s double your age, who’s your best friend’s fuckin’ dad.”

You don’t dare open your mouth to speak because if you did, you’d moan.

“I bet that excites you, isn’t that right, sugar?” he thumbs and pinches your clit, and you whimper softly, bolts of pleasure shooting up your squirming body.

“N-no.”

“No?” he chuckles darkly, reinforcing his grip on you and pulling you against his chest forcefully, “Making your best friend’s dad hard doesn’t excite you? Because you make me so fuckin’ hard, baby. All the goddamn time. I’m fuckin’ throbbing right now.”

To prove his statement, he rolls his solid bulge against your bare leg, coaxing a barely-audible moan out of the both of you.

“P-please,” you whisper desperately, “Mr. Barnes, I—”

“What the hell is taking so long, Daddy?” Brittany calls, beginning to turn around to see what was interfering with the two of you getting her popcorn in a timely manner. Bucky leaps away from you and he’s across the kitchen in two seconds flat, turned away from his daughter and you to hide the noticeable tent in his jeans.

“Just a minute, princess,” he calls back in an even tone as though he wasn’t just groping his daughter’s best friend, grabbing the bowl you found and ripping open the popcorn bag. You’re still frozen in your spot, recollecting your bearings after Bucky broke every single rule in the book. Your knees are weak and your body is numb, you don’t even have the strength to cry, but you badly want to.

“Y/N! Come on!” Brittany beckons you over, pointing at the movie, “This is my favorite part, hurry!”

Your wobbling legs are carrying you over to the couch like your body is in auto-mode. Bucky is looking directly at you with a look that you don’t recognize, that you’re not used to, but you refuse to look back, filled with dread at the very thought of spending the night with him in a ten-foot radius of you.

Bucky doesn’t bother you and Brittany for the rest of the night, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re on the edge. But Brittany doesn’t comment on your stricken expression. She probably didn’t even notice it, her only concern is her foolish infatuation with the handsome actor on the screen.

After the movie finished, Brittany offered to go upstairs to her bedroom, and you’re quick to say yes and drag her up the winding stairs. The two of you stay up for another couple hours until Brittany is first to doze off, and you succumb to your own exhaustion a half-hour later, resting beside your best friend on her queen bed.

Shortly after you descend into a state of slumber, Brittany’s door creaks open and a sliver of yellow light from the hallway pours into the otherwise pitch dark room. Soft footsteps approach your unconscious body, your untamed hair, meandering strands fanned out on the soft, stark white pillow, swept away from your relaxed face, your dry lips parted as you steadily inhale and exhale. Then, you’re suddenly cold—the duvet pushed off your practically bare body save for your tiniest pair of cotton shorts and a cropped tee bunched around the base of your ribcage thanks to your unconscious tossing and turning, exposing your supple belly.

Your chest rises and falls as you sleep peacefully, your stiff nipples poking invitingly through the soft fabric of your shirt, Bucky has to resist the urge to pinch them. He carefully sits down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, watching your face for a minute reaction, a signal that you’re awake but you don’t grant it. He smiles inwardly, knowing that you’re in deep sleep and your petite body is at his disposal. Drifting his gaze over your lithe figure, his cock twitches and stirs as he thinks about all the things he could do to you right now, in your vulnerable state.

He starts with your warm tummy, calloused fingertips softly outlining shapes around your navel. But his hooded gaze is zeroed in on your blank face, searching for any indication that you’re ascending from dreamland to reality. He does recall you saying in the past that you’re a deep sleeper.

Giving a cautionary glance at his daughter sleeping beside you, Bucky removes his jeans and slowly, gently mounts you, admiring your girlish features, how sweet and weak you look like this, he has to stifle a groan. It takes everything in him to not pounce on you, devour you, sink his teeth into your spongy flesh. You shift restlessly under him and he freezes, waiting for you to rise but you never do.

With painstaking focus, Bucky lifts your shirt over your chest, the mounds of flesh spilling out of the material. His mouth waters as he marvels at your exposed chest, your quarter-sized areolas and firm nipples, begging for his tongue to swipe over them, his teeth to bite into them, his fingers to tweak and play with them. And he simply cannot resist, cupping the mounds in his palms and gliding his thumb over the tiny buds.

Again, you stir in your sleep and Bucky withdraws like your skin was on fire and you burned him, certain this time that you’ll wake up. You rock a little before you seem to melt into the mattress, but you’re still deep in your slumber.

More assuredly, he glides his rough hands up-and-down your smooth sides, noticing how your breathing pattern shifts, quickens under his warm touch. He loves how you feel, soft and fragile like you’ll break if he’s too rough with you, like porcelain. You’re not even conscious but your body is reacting to him exactly how it always does, trembling and squirming and writhing.

“You’re so soft, sugar, just like how I imagined,” Bucky whispers to you, to himself. He can carry on like this, touching you like this forever, he doesn’t even have to fuck you because the feeling of your supple skin under his harsh fingertips alone is simply euphoric, too good, too perfect.

But he’s still going to fuck you, one day. He’s sure of it.

His wet tongue is suddenly lapping at your burning skin, above your nipple. He doesn’t even care that Brittany is soundly asleep less than a foot away, his arousal blocking his rationality. He needs to feel you, to commit the feeling of you to his memory—he needs you.

Bucky parts your delicate legs and wraps them around his waist before delving in, licking and sucking and biting your puckered nipple. His hands are busy grabbing and groping everything in reach. Groaning lightly, his leaking cock swells and throbs in his wet briefs, more than ready for your warm pussy wrapped around it, squeezing the seed out of it.

His wet lips kiss down your quivering body, making a brief pit-stop at your belly, above your womb, to lap and suck the skin around your button, before dragging lower, below your waist.

Bucky unties the knot on your shorts and folds down the fabric to kiss directly above your hot pussy.

“You’re burning, baby,” he purrs breathlessly, tugging your shorts down to your knees for better access to your dripping cunt. He grabs your shaking thighs and spreads them wider to accommodate his head in between.

There is a pause as Bucky squints in the dark, staring directly at the crotch of your white, cotton panties, the dark patch of slick over your drooling hole. Fuck, you’re gushing. The sight alone can make him bust in his briefs.

He leans in, his nose nudging your swollen clit, breathing in your tangy scent. You smell so fucking delicious, like a full-course meal.

Swiping his pink tongue over the dainty material, you gasp in your sleep and stir, but Bucky doesn’t care anymore if you catch him—he’s dying for a taste, and you’ll give it to him, asleep or not, like it or not.

Hooking his thumbs under the band of your panties, Bucky pulls off the flimsy thing that was hiding his long-awaited dessert. He groans again, met with the mouth-watering sight of your pretty pussy, puffy and drooling slick. Wetting his lips, his tongue darts out and drags a bold stripe up your glistening cunt, and your spasming thighs subconsciously snap together as you’re catapulted out of your slumber.

“Mr. Barnes?” you slur sleepily, mustering the little strength you have left to lift your head, “What—”

Bucky prys apart your legs and licks you again, bolder, wetter, sloppier, and you slap a palm over your mouth to silence your loud mewl.

“Mr. Barnes!” you whimper, reaching down and weaving your nimble fingers through his short hair, “Oh my god!”

“Don’t wake Brittany up,” he warns you in an oddly calm and collected tone despite the circumstances, gliding the flat of his tongue over your sensitive clit. Heat pools under your skin, sinks down into your bones, your little toes curling and your death-grip on his hair tightening. Incoherent syllables slip out your parted lips as Bucky proceeds to lap at your scorching cluster of nerves and fastens his wet lips around your pearl.

Each swipe of his tongue sends thrills sweeping up your writhing body, your brain going fuzzy as wavelets of head-spinning pleasure engulf you completely. Bucky is unforgiving, suctioning your engorged clit in his wet mouth and pursing his lips around the slippery bud, all the while his thick fingers rub between your drenched folds.

Throwing your head to the side, you look directly at your best friend’s expressionless face as she lightly snores, and your gut cartwheels as humiliation seeps into your chest alongside the toe-curling sensations.

“You c-can’t,” you whimper, stinging tears pricking your eyelids, “Please, Mr. Barnes. B-Brittany is—”

“Asleep,” he pulls apart your sticky folds, his thumb replacing his tongue and rubbing tight circles around your slick clit, “You best not make a sound, baby, or you’ll wake her.”

The tip of his tongue swirls around your tight hole, “You don’t want her to catch you like this, do you, sweetheart?”

“Mr. Barnes…”

“Shh,” he hums, vibrations crawling up your spine, “Go back to sleep, baby.”

Like a starved man, he sloppily devours your pussy, suckling and lapping and kissing your puffy folds, your wet clit, his slippery tongue slivering up-and-down your dripping cunt, collecting your slick in his greedy mouth. One hand squeezes your thigh, spreading it wider to taste every nook and cranny of your weeping pussy. Your hips buck up and roll uncontrollably, the delicious friction numbing your brain.

“Filthy, filthy little girl,” Bucky mutters against your pussy, spitting on your clit and stroking it feverishly with his calloused fingertips, spreading the stickiness, “You’re dripping onto my tongue, and you taste like fuckin’ heaven. Fuck.”

A lewd, wet, popping noise meets your ears as he sloppily slurps your cunt, flicking his broad tongue up your slit to your little bud to nibble the sensitive pearl. Shockwaves ripple throughout your spasming body as your orgasm builds in your lower gut, your quivering thighs squeezing around his head and subconsciously tugging him closer as you fuck down on his ravenous tongue.

Brittany shifts next to you and your heart lurches, fear and excitement, worry and embarrassment gripping your body at the possibility of her witnessing your climax at the cruel hands of her own dad.

You try to fight it, but it’s too late—your orgasm conquers your thrashing body and your back curls off the spongy bed as you whine out loud, your overstimulated pussy squirting and clenching and gaping around nothing but air. Bucky licks you relentlessly, your juices pouring into his awaiting mouth and he happily laps it up.

“Oh my god, oh my god!” you croon, humping uncontrollably against his glistening face, covered in layers of slick and spit. Bucky fills you with his thick fingers and fucks you with them, prolonging your powerful climax.

He lifts his head and smiles at you as you descend from your high, his mouth and cheeks coated in your wet, sticky mess. Mounting you, he caresses your cheek and tells you, “I can’t wait to pound this perfect pussy, fill you up with my fuckin’ babies, right—” he places the palm of his hand over you smooth tummy, where your fertile womb is, “ —here. What do you think your boyfriend would think? Your belly round with another man’s babies?”

“Mr. Barnes…” Your heart trips and guilt pangs in your chest as you realize you haven’t thought about Peter once this entire time. Oh my god… oh my god, you cheated on Peter!

“Would you like that, sugar?” he groans, his eyes glazed over in lust, “Would you like me to knock you up right next to your best friend?”

As if on cue, Brittany stirs and mumbles incoherent nonsense under her breath, her eyelids fluttering. You and Bucky both look at her tensely, fearfully. She relaxes and you both pray that she is still asleep, until her groggy voice rises, quelling the strained silence:

“Y/N?”

3K notes · View notes

sableseb · 2 years

Text

trouble

warnings — 18 + innocence kink + age gap (readers in her 20’s, he’s in his mid 40’s!!) + daddy kink + house wife kink + breeding kink+ beard kink + cum play + slight degradation + overstimulation + bucky being an absolute menace

summary — act like one get treated like one.

a/n — please read the warnings! dads best friend bucky? absolutely!! because im so in love with this man and the beard does things to me. many more too cum;)

Jealousy, any man's kryptonite. It was the wrinkles on his sunkissed forehead, death grip around his glass and drowning out the nonsense of the men in front of him. It was some over the top, all out, summer bash that your dad’s company was throwing at some vineyard in the Hamptons. He swears you’d been making heart eyes at a younger man all day but he knew your eyes only ever belonged to him. He felt seventeen again — crushing hard on the girl of his dreams. The girl who made his stomach do somersaults, made his heart beat through his ears— that just made him weak for her.

He wanted to be the one next to you, arm around your waist tucking you into his side. His lips brushing against you as your eyes widened when something caught your interest. He needed a reminder that you were his. So when his steel eyes connected with his favorite doe eyes you knew what he needed— you.

“Bambi, been driven' me fuckin’ crazy all night.” Burgendy lips pressed against your jawline. “This dress? Trouble." His lips slotting against yours, "You’re trouble.” Hands roaming his wonder. “You’re about to feel me right there,” Cold fingers pressing against your body. Right where they belonged.

“Need to be close to that delicate heart of yours.” Heavy. Everything that was spoken between you two always held weight. A promise of belonging to one another.

“Want you to feel me spreading through your body, making its way up. Please, Bambi.”

Warm palms against his scruff that lines his sharp jaw line. He grew it out after you told him you loved the way it felt when his tongue and lips danced between your legs. How it looked after he made you cum- it was pornographic the way your cum lined his beard.

"I need you to see how much I love you."

Twinkle in your eyes as your lips chased his- all the confirmation he needed from you. Only this time his kisses became primal and territorial. Almost afraid if he didn’t you’d vanish.

Breathless and glazed “Where’s your dad?” Hands wrapped around your warm cheeks, the twinkle of those damn Bambi eyes as he looked for his answer.

“Still there.” Speaking between heavy breaths. “Won’t be till the morning.” Your nose scrunched and eyebrows raised. A lmichaeavious but daring look as you spoke to him.

Tongue running against his lips, “Perfect.” Cabernet consumed his tongue, “I’m about to make his daughter scream.”

Then within seconds he has you engulfed around your safe haven. Cold meeting your neck, molding your lips around his as he placed you on the kitchen counter.

Shaky hands found the button, then the zipper, demanding them down. Cold air fanning your body as he raised your dress up and ripping off the white that covered his favorite place to mark — breed.

You looked marvelous. Pebbled nipples from cool air wrapping around your them, faint purple marks trailed along your neck from the earlier and you with those damn Bambi eyes silently pleading him to fulfill his promise.

“Can’t wait Buck, need to feel you. Please.” His favorite song sang.

A groan leaving his lips as he wrapped his hand around his cock, running it through your dripping folds— only ever this wet for him.

Bucky’s tip pressing against your pussy unleashed a sound that was downright beautiful before your velvet walls welcomed him home.

“Fuck Bambi. You get tighter since this morning?” His forehead resting on yours, as he brought you closer to him and finding your lips.

Determined to have his cock feel the heart that belonged to him.

Tongues fighting for dominance, your hands tangled through his hair and when he hit that one spot he captured not only your tongue but the moan he gave you. It was like the gates of hell had opened when he saw you tonight. He should've been the reason for your laugh and smile, not the people you had been speaking to.

“Shit— you drove me crazy tonight y’know that?” Grunting out as you sucked him back in. “That dress is a menace. Stop lookin’ so good.”

“Stop lookin’ at me then.” You threw right back at him, only adding fuel to burning fire.

“Such a fuckin’ brat— don’t worry, i’ll fuck that right outta ya.”

Ripping away from you, he had you pinned against the marble counter. God did he miss those pebbled nipples. Fuck. What he wouldn't give to see how cold they felt. Loved marking them, biting them and twisting your nipple— the sound that fell from your lips made him drive harder into you. Moans erupting from the two of you. They were poetic.

“Act like a brat, I’ll fuck you like one.” Your body connects with his. Fingers splayed around your neck with his lips dancing around it, his fingers tracing the promises against your clit.

“Y’know I can’t not look at the most important wonder of the world, Bambi. Especially since she’s mine.” Teeth grazing your neck with each spoken word. You clenched around him as he spoke.

You got off on the way he spoke to you. Each word holding meanings behind them. His cock brushing against your g’spot earning moan after moan out of you. You squeezed tighter around him each time he hit.

“More daddy. So close.” His lips found your as he swallows each moan. Forefinger and middle finger pressing harder against your clit. The other working your nipples— pulling and twisting. His lips pull away to listen to the words that would leave your swollen lips.

“Beg me.” Speaking those two words in your mouth.

“Please let me cum. I— ‘m sorry. Won’t be a brat.” Lie.

“Let me cum for you. ‘ll be a good girl. Lemme show you how much I love you. Wha ya do to me.”

“Let me make a mess for you, daddy.” You moaned.

A grunt left his mouth capturing your lips with his. He was done for, “Fuck Bambi cum for daddy.”

White coating his cock— your claim to him, as he fucked you through your first orgasm but never stopping as he fucked you through your first, ready to pull another one out of you.

Leaving you empty for a split second before his hands wrap around your hips spinning you around to sit on him.

“C’mon Bambi. Y’can do it.” His hands help you work yourself on top of him.

“Too sensitive.” You whined against his lips.

“Yeah? Well ‘m gonna need one more outta ya. Y’know for being a brat and all.” Hips snapping against you, “Need to watch those Bambi eyes as they roll back when ya cum.” Pink swollen lips, his tongue running against his bottom lip as his eyes beamed brighter than before.

Sweat lined your forehead as your hair stuck to it and a moan left those lips he craved when he came into contact with your ass.

“Bounce on daddy’s cock baby. Make me cum so you can feel it right here.” Your heart. “Let me try and touch your heart. Be a good girl.”

“C’mon fuck me like the whore you are.” His hips snapped up hitting your g’spot over and over again, fingers sliding to pinch your clit. Velvet walls with silky folds. Bucky swore he could feel your cum seeping out of you when you bounced up only to miss the feeling when you came back down.

“Gonna cum baby. Need to cum with ya. Let go for me.”

It was blissfully pornographic. The sounds that filled the kitchen as he came in you and you all over him were perfect. Just like the sight in front of him when you both came down.

Absolutely beautifully wrecked.

Standing up, he placed you on the chair as he stood in front of you. Kissing every inch of his favorite thing to taste, feel, touch, smell and hear. All the way down till he was crouching in front of your dripping, puffy and ruined pussy.

“‘M gonna need to buy lots of dresses baby.” Mirrored kisses placed along the legs he loved wrapped around him and his head. His lips leaving your skin— already craving for them to go back home.

“Why's that?” You hummed out running a hand through his hair and the other grazing his beard. His fingers never leave you as they ghost over your pink puffy folds. A whimper leaving your lips the moment he makes contact with your clit.

“Because when I buy you that dream house, I’ll have the access to fuck you against every surface of it.” His fingers pressing the cum back into you.

tags: @mackenzielovee @r0und3bitch @ceceswriting @storytellingwitht @bethoconnor @glittersandsparklesss

4K notes · View notes

sableseb · 2 years

Text

A Proper Welcome - Part 2

Pairing: Mechanic Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader x Carpenter Alpha!Hal Carter Summary: Bucky and Hal help you through the beginning of your heat. Word Count: Over 3.3k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), threesome, spitroasting, a/b/o dynamics, conflicting feelings (everything is consensual), talk of safe word, stubborn reader (is that a warning?), Alpha!Bucky and Alpha!Hal (they are warnings, okay?). A/N: Only took me 9 months to get to the next part of A Proper Welcome done for you lovelies! Excited once again to share more this particular reader and relationship as it unfolds. Beta read by the amazing @christywantspizza , but any and all mistakes are my own. Thank you, lovely! Moodboard created by yours truly and banners by the lovely @maysdigitalarts .

Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and updates. Reblogs, comments or asks are welcome as feedback is appreciated!

You weren't sure what you expected to happen after you ordered your alphas to own you, but they didn't move after they both removed their shoes. True to their word, they waited for you to open the door. Your hand shook as you reached for the handle, your defenses still fighting your instincts. Bucky placed his hand over yours when you made no move to open it. You were shocked you were still upright.

“Are you having second thoughts? Are you scared?”

You almost shrank back, not because you didn’t want his hands on you. No, you craved him and Hal. That was the problem. “A bit scared,” you admitted, quickly shaking your head. “Doesn’t matter. Just need you to fuck me.”

“It matters if you’re scared of us,” Hal said, placing his hand on the back of your neck. He didn’t squeeze or apply any pressure, but it soothed you more than you expected. “You need to tell us. Please.”

Your body responded instantly to the combined touch, warmth spreading from your chest down between your legs. “Not scared of you. I’m scared of what happens after,” you felt a tear fall before you could stop yourself. Because Hal was right, everything would change once they had you.

“Didn’t you say we’ll talk after this is over?” he reminded you. “We’ll figure this out.”

“But why would you want me without your marks?” you asked. At least, you thought you asked. Your words felt heavy on your tongue as you tried to turn the handle. It wasn't easy to fight biology.

I don’t want my alphas to reject me. Why do they have that power over me? Why am I giving them that?

“Open the door, baby, and we’ll show you how much we want you. Marked or not,” Hal said against the shell of your ear.

“We’ve got you,” Bucky added, pressing a kiss just above your collar. "You hear me?”

Another tear rolled down your hot cheek. It was exactly what you needed to hear and it wasn’t a lie. Good alphas. My alphas. The knowledge that they would be yours without the bond yet finally made you push the door open.

I’m allowed to be vulnerable. I’m still strong. I’m safe.

"Good girl. We know that wasn't easy. This is your space and it means everything that you're letting us in," Hal praised.

"Your rules, okay? We'll follow them," Bucky added.

"Red," you said quickly. "If I need to stop," you added so they understood what you meant.

You weren't sure how many omegas had safe words or if you could even remember once you slipped past the point of no return.

"Green for good and yellow for warning?" Hal asked, nodding when you did.

"Good girl," Bucky said, shutting the door once the three of you were inside. "Thank you for telling us."

The view of your nest feet away called to you, a fresh wave of slick coming on at the realization that they were going to ruin you there. The only men you would ever allow into your bedroom and the most sacred parts of you were going to get you through this. The tingles of arousal continued to pool from your gut as you stumbled forward, whining when a pair of arms kept you from falling.

“Easy, kitten,” Hal said affectionately. “Let’s get you out of these clothes first. Then we’ll give your body what it needs, okay?”

Bucky stood before you as you nodded and wordlessly lifted your arms when he grasped the hem of your top. "We'll get you through this," he whispered, lifting the fabric away and dropping it to the floor.

Hal kept an arm around your waist as he unhooked your bra, Bucky's hands coming up to remove that as well. Your breasts spilling free relieved some of the tension you carried, but it wasn't what you needed. The ache between your thighs increased when you caught the darkening gaze from the large alpha in front of you.

"Beautiful, omega. Fuck, can I touch you?"

"Yeah. Touch me," you whined, wondering if you looked desirable when you pushed your chest towards his palms. The weight of your breasts in Bucky’s hands occupied you while Hal pulled down your skirt and underwear. He avoided touching your wet, pulsing cunt. Why? "Kiss me."

Bucky brushed his lips against yours, his thumbs brushing along your hardened nipples. Purring from the featherlight touch, heat continued to spread through your body as you moved insistently against him. The kiss ended far too soon, but you had no time to complain when Hal turned your head toward him.

If Bucky's kiss was tender and gentle, Hal's was consuming. His tongue swept inside your eager mouth, taking his time to explore. A slow smolder. A fast burn. They gave you both. Like the last, it ended before you wanted it to.

"She won't break, Buck," he assured his friend.

"What?" you mumbled.

The vibration of a growl had you opening your mouth, registering that Bucky kissed you again. The tenderness simmered still beneath the fervor, their hands strong and sturdy against your trembling body. It no longer felt like your heat dictated your wants. It was them. These men were going to devour you.

Let them swallow me whole.

"You with us?" Hal asked when Bucky's lips trailed along your jaw.

"Yeah. Green," you gritted, your abdomen tightening in pain. "Fuck."

"Okay, let's get you to bed," Bucky slipped an arm around your waist to help Hal guide you over. The action distracted you from the momentary pain, comfort flooding you as they placed you on the mattress. "There you go."

"Clothes. Off." you gasped, gazing between them as you stretched out on your back.

You struggled to sit up as they began to undress, unsure of which one of them to concentrate on. Bucky's broad chest rose and fell with each breath, the metal arm fitting for his hard body. Hal's sun-kissed abs tempted you to touch them. The leaner of the two, he looked no less intimidating. Whimpering when they both began to push off their jeans, you couldn't stop the slick that began to stain your sheets.

"Still need us?" Bucky questioned, his thick cock springing free. "Need us to take care of you?"

"Use your words, omega," Hal smirked, his cock hard and ready, too.

Care for me. Keep me. Don't let me go, please.

"Fuck me," you begged, your fingers twisting in the sheets. The sheer size of them made you wonder if they'd split you in two, but you welcomed the challenge. Your body would accept theirs and make a home for them. "Now."

"On your knees," Bucky ordered.

"Bossy," you muttered as you turned over and moved to the middle of the mattress.

"You like it," Hal noted, settling in front of you on his knees. Instead of shoving his dick in your watering mouth like you half expected, he cupped your cheeks instead. "Don't you?"

Biting your lip, you nodded slightly. "Don't tell him that."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear you," Bucky said, the bed dipping behind you as Hal chuckled. "Fuck, look at you. So pretty. So wet."

"Smells so good. Can't wait to taste you."

You never thought praise for your pussy would make you preen, but your alphas continued to surprise you. The smaller alpha kissed your forehead as hands moved up the back of your thighs, getting closer to your most intimate parts. You could smell their arousal, which fueled your own. The reminders that they were there for you was enough to make you faint.

"Fuck me," you whispered because that was easier to say. It was all your brain could process as your basic nature took over. "Alphas, I need you."

"Bucky needs to stretch you out a bit. We don't wanna hurt you."

"You won't."

You gasped when the first finger breached you. It was embarrassing how wet you were, but you didn't dwell on it as the thick digit pumped slowly in and out of you.

"You're tight, doll. I know you'll open up for us, but he's right. We don't wanna hurt you."

The small hiss you let out had more bark than bite. You'd be sore and exhausted by the time your heat finished. The good alphas that they were, they knew the prep was necessary. You'd be covered in their scents soon enough.

"Bucky, hurry up," you whined as another long, thick finger pushed inside, spreading and stretching you with such care.

"And you call me bossy," you heard the smirk in his voice. "Need me inside you so badly you can't wait a few more seconds? Need Hal that badly, too?"

I'll smack him with his own metal hand when this is over. I swear. No, no, no. Good alpha. He's a good alpha.

"Yes! Please! Why won't you fuck me?!"

Going into heat was an experience you never expected to get used to, no matter how many times you went through it. The need to be taken, bred and claimed wasn’t something you asked for. But being surrounded by the scents of the two powerful alphas boxing you in, you wondered why you resisted your nature so much. Maybe because you had never met anyone like Bucky Barnes and Hal Carter.

But I’m not ready to be claimed. Not yet. What if it does matter to them? What if they want a better omega? Someone who isn’t as stubborn as I am?

A whine bubbled from your chest at the thought of them rejecting you after letting them in, a call to them to protect you. The air that crackled between you and the men shifted to something deeper, more intimate. The rumbles from their chest soothed you, willing your body to relax as your mind shut down more.

"Look at me," Hal urged, dipping his head so he was in your line of sight. You wished you could always see that tenderness in his eyes. "Breathe, baby, please."

Bucky kissed the base of your spine as you took slow, deep breaths. "Good girl. We're still here, doll. Not going anywhere."

"Sorry," you mumbled as Hal shook his head.

"Don't you dare say you're sorry. This is a lot and it's an honor that you're letting us help you."

"You're helping us, too," Bucky said, making you whimper as he pulled his fingers out. "Believe it or not, you are. Our kitten."

"Our beautiful kitten," Hal smiled.

Being called "kitten" just then almost felt like "omega", but it was different. Special. And you weren't sure if it was their words, scents or touch that kept your breathing nice and steady. Maybe it was all of it.

Thank you.

"Look at him," Hal urged, helping you turn your head to look over your shoulder.

You held your breath as you watched Bucky lick your slick from his fingers, a deep growl reverberating in his chest. The sight of his blown pupils added to your crazed need as he brought his hand to his cock. Your thighs twitched as he pressed the tip to your aching hole. He was going to wreck you just for Hal to do the same.

"Green, alphas. Please."

You were ready.

"Fuck," Bucky groaned when he began to push in.

"Breathe," Hal whispered before the air rushed back into your lungs. "Good girl."

By some miracle you didn't collapse as you took Bucky's cock in inch by inch, resisting the urge to push your hips back. As desperate as you were to be fucked deep and hard by each of them, this type of care was what you needed in your core. Hal's hand moved along the back of your neck and shoulders, easing away the remaining tension. As you predicted, your body stretched and welcomed your alpha home. It would for both of them.

Home. I'm home.

"Fuck, you're still tight," Bucky hissed, keeping his hips still as you adjusted to his size. "Pussy's gripping me like a vice."

You purred, clenching around him with purpose as he finally moved. You were already close. It should've mortified you to be on the edge of an orgasm from the first slide of the thick length inside you, but you didn't care.

"Bucky. Hal," your thighs shook as you whined.

"You need to come? It's okay, kitten. Do it," Hal encouraged you, brushing a thumb along your cheek as his other hand fisted his cock.

“Come,” Bucky grunted.

Your eyes widened as your release shot through you, your own cry echoing in the room as your muscles spasmed. Your mind began to fracture as Bucky thrust through it, pleasure blinding you as you found Hal’s mouth. His tongue against yours added to the ecstasy that threatened to tear you apart. You allowed them to destroy you.

The orgasm took some of your edge off, but it wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be enough until they gave you what biology demanded: to be knotted and bred. They wouldn’t actually breed you tonight, but your body wouldn’t know the difference. Not while you were stuffed full.

Need their knots. Need them.

“There you go, kitten. That’s better, isn’t it? Keep sucking my cock back in.”

Your walls ached as Bucky pistoned in and out of you, tears forming from the burning pleasure that began to quickly build again. The evidence of your climax seeped around his cock as you struggled to hold on, the unyielding and steady pace overwhelming your senses. Your head dropped, trying to lick at Hal, wanting to take care of both alphas.

“Kitten, you don’t have to- Oh, fuck,” Hal moaned as your hands gripped his thighs for purchase, swallowing him down as much as you could. “We don’t deserve you.”

You whined in protest, savoring how he twitched against your tongue. It was the other way around. How were you worthy of them? Their strength and patience, the need to take care of you yet agreeing to your terms. You wished you could find a way to properly thank them. For now, your body would do.

“We don’t,” Bucky’s breath slid over your back as he stretched over you again, forcing you to take more of Hal in your throat. Both of them inside you had your senses in overdrive, taking what they gave you. “Beautiful, fierce, ours.”

“And yours. We’re yours,” Hal’s wrecked voice had your abdomen tightening as tears fell from your eyes, mewling as his hand moved underneath your collar. Damn hormones. “It’s okay. We’ve got you.”

You were thankful you couldn’t speak because the urge to rip your collar off and beg for their marks grew with each thrust. Bucky gripped your hips to hold you in place as you sucked harder and clenched tighter, anything to push the thought of being claimed away. Your heart ached from the struggle because it would feel so right to have them sink their teeth in.

Wouldn’t it?

“You’re brave, kitten. Strong. You’re you. The kind of partner we need,” Bucky reminded you, as if he sensed the internal conflict.

Partner. Not omega, partner. An equal.

“The partner we crave.”

Even as they fucked you, they could see right through you. These alphas who accepted you on your terms and gave you hope for a brighter tomorrow. It was everything you wanted to deny, but everything you needed to believe and accept.

They’re my home.

“Stop,” Hal gasped, gently pulling himself out of your mouth. His cock bobbed in front of your face as he wiped the drool from your chin, trying in vain to take him back in. “We both know you don’t want me finishing in your mouth. Not yet.”

You whined because it was true. As tempting as it was for him to spill down your throat, you needed him in your soaked cunt. Wanted Bucky to pin your arms over your head as Hal put you on your back. God, he’d keep your legs spread open as he speared you over and over.

“Knot me, breed me!” you cried.

“We will. We will,” Bucky promised, driving faster into you.

“You’ll feel us for days. Weeks,” Hal swore and, fuck, you believed him.

“I’m close,” Bucky warned, though he didn’t need to. The swell of his forming knot pushing against your hole gave you the signal loud and clear. “Gonna take my knot like a good girl. Get your slick all over me while I fill you up and make you mine. And when I’m done, Hal’s gonna do the same. ‘Til you’re begging for us to stop.”

“No, don’t stop, don’t stop!” You arched your back as Hal’s hand glided over your bouncing breasts and aching nipples, desperate to be consumed by both of them. “Alpha, please. don’t stop. Oh, God!”

You exploded, moving helplessly between them as your walls twitched. Flames shot down your spine as you once again allowed the sensations to take over again. You barely registered that they spoke to you, coaxing you through another powerful orgasm. A noise spilled from your mouth, something between a scream and plea, tired of being empty.

“Fuck, kitten, that’s it. That’s fucking it. Give it to us. Give us everything,” Bucky growled, thrusting once more.

A kaleidoscope of colors danced in front of your eyes as he seated himself fully inside you, having to hold onto Hal as he filled you like he promised. Hot and thick, your body greedily accepted every drop of him. Teeth sank into your shoulder, drawing another cry from you. It wasn’t a claiming mark, but it felt good.

Everything felt good.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” Hal praised, giving Bucky a small smirk and a smack to his shoulder. “Stop growling against her skin and get her on her side so she’s comfortable.”

Bucky grumbled something you couldn’t catch as he released his teeth, kissing tenderly over the bite. He didn’t move you right away, both of you trying to catch your breath. Your heart pounded fast, your walls gripping his knot like it would fade away too quickly if you stopped.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” the larger alpha whispered as he nudge the collar with his nose. “This is heaven. You’re heaven. Hal, fuck, you’re gonna lose your mind.”

“I already have,” Hal said, kissing your forehead. “I already have.”

Your heart raced, reaching up to touch your collar. They hadn’t tried to remove it. They listened to you. “Alphas?” you mumbled, wincing when you attempted to inch forward.

“Easy, easy,” Bucky whispered as he wrapped his arm around your waist, carefully shifting so you both laid on the bed. He huffed against your skin as he spooned you, smiling as Hal grabbed a water from the bedside.

“Here.” He brought the bottle to your lips.

You took a few sips, whining when you saw how hard he still was.

“Don’t worry, kitten,” his voice deepened as he set the bottle down and stretched out in front of you. “Once his knot goes down, you’ll have mine.”

“Thank you,” your eyes squeezed shut, hiccuping as your chest seized up. “Stay.”

Don’t cry again. Don’t fucking cry.

“Oh, kitten,” Bucky sighed, rubbing your hip when you hid your face in Hal’s chest. “You don’t need to thank us. We’re staying right here.” “We’re yours, remember? Your alphas,” Hal gave you an assuring smile. “Now be good and rest for a few minutes.”

“Bossy,” you muttered.

“And you love it.”

Their words in your mind lulled you back into a sense of comfort, floating as you stayed boxed between them. A sleepy smile formed, half aware that this was just the beginning and that your alphas weren’t going anywhere. You could be mortified by your needy behavior later. For now, you let yourself be an omega. Because your secondary gender isn't a weakness with them around.

I’m safe. I’m cared for.

I’m home.

*****

We'll see our neighbors again soon. Thanks for reading!

1K notes · View notes

sableseb · 2 years

Text

3 Weeks Waiting

pairing: dbf!bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: you’ve been hooking up with your dad’s best friend for months, but you accidentally ghosted him during finals week. saying he’s desperate is an understatement.

warnings: needy!bucky (he needs a warning), m & f masturbation, face sitting, hand jobs, riding, desperate sex, slight sub/dom dynamic, m in f penetration, dirty talk, absolute filth, hair pulling, slight degrading, praise, creampie, age gap (buckys the age he is in the movies, and reader is in college, maybe in early/mid 20s?)

note: my requests are open!!!!! REQUEST STUFF FOR ME TO WRITEEEEE :)

Tired. Annoyed. Slightly grossed out by all the old dudes around you.

That was the best way to describe how you felt in that moment. Your dad had brought over some friends and coworkers to celebrate the beginning of summer, he always found an excuse to throw a pool party.

Irritation flooded you as you got up from your beach chair, trying to subtly sneak through to go inside. You grabbed your towel to wrap it around yourself before walking through the door and into your home.

Before you could grab the chips from the kitchen island, a familiar frame stopped you. He stood tall on the other side of the kitchen island, a cup of rum in hand, “Hey, Bucky.”

Saying there was tension between the two of you was an understatement. His eyes were dark on you, a certain desperation lingering behind them, and you knew exactly why.

The two of you had been hooking up for months now, it just… Happened. But you hadn’t seen, called, or texted him in over 2 weeks because of college exams, and that was the longest the two of you had ever not spoken. Even when you went out of town, you two texted like preteens entering puberty.

And you had the audacity to sit there in front of him cluelessly.

He had to sit and just give you a small side hug greeting in front of your dad. He had to watch you tan on a beach chair in nothing but a small black bikini.

He was in pain.

“Don’t ‘Hey Bucky’ me,” he shook his head, watching you grab the cool ranch doritos on the counter and grab one.

“What?” You pretended to not know.

“I sent you like— 5 texts and called you a lot.”

“I was studying and taking exams, Buck, I warned you exam week was coming… I wasn’t even on my phone until today,” you giggled at his grump expression, not being able to hold in your own laughter. It was obvious he wasn’t truly mad, more just too stubborn to admit how much he missed you.

“Is it funny?” he scoffed lightly, matching your little giggles as he walked around the kitchen island. He stopped as he stood a foot away from you, and from afar, it’d look like the two of you were just having a normal conversation, “Do you know how hard I am right now? I can’t cum without you anymore.”

Your eyes widened at his words, and it was rare for you to get embarrassed or startled at all, “You can’t say things like that so randomly, Buck.”

“Why? Does it turn you on?” He mocked, walking closer and looking around to make sure no one looked. He slowly let the bulge in his pants touch your thigh as he breathed in relief. He didn’t grind, anxious that someone would walk in and see, even though you two were on the side of the island that covered everything below your waist, “Take the towel off.”

“You’re like a dog in heat, Jesus,” you tried to hold yourself back, wanting to come off as stronger. But when he slowly moved his hips, you swore you’d snap, “Oh my god, don’t do that— People are right th—“

“I don’t care,” he moaned a little louder than he should’ve, groaning in pain as you backed away. He watched the towel slightly open as you stood in front of him, shaking your head in shame. Your chest was revealed only slightly, but the sight was enough to make him feral, “I’m gonna cream my pants, fuck.”

“Bucky,” you scoffed, grabbing your towel and taking it off. You threw it as his chest and watched him catch it blindly, too distracted at the visual of your body, “It’s a bikini, don’t be so desperate.”

You walked past him and towards the stairs, knowing him well enough to know he was most likely staring at the view that was your ass. You turned around while you took a step on the 4th step, your eyebrows going up, “You coming or what?”

He sprinted.

Ran.

Sped.

He was a fucking track star.

He nearly fell over running to the stairs and following you, like a loyal puppy. You made sure to make it torturous and walk slowly, but your heart was telling you to sprint. You wanted this just as much as he did, if not more.

But you wanted him needy.

The minute you entered your room, he slammed the door behind you and lunged at you. Your lips intertwined with his as he gripped all parts of you, from your arms, to your chest, to your ass, to your back… all of you. But he swore he snapped when you pulled his hair just slightly, making him moan into your mouth.

God, did you miss that sound.

You pushed him on the bed, watching him sit and stare at you with lusted eyes, completely at his mercy for you. In that moment, he’d do— say— be anything for you. He needed you.

Which is why he said what he did next

“I want you to sit on my face.”

Your eyes widened at his confession, unsure of where this energy was coming from. He was always a begger, or even when he was in charge, he just asked. He never demanded or told. But there he stood, feet away from you on a bed, telling you what he needed.

You giggled and stepped closer, standing in front of his sitting body. You ran a hand over his face and took a minute to take him in, it had been too long. His sharp cheekbones, his scruff, the way his eyes were wide with needy— Beauty was not a good enough word for him, he was so much more than beautiful.

“Earn it,” you kissed his cheek in response, then moved down to his jaw. You kissed and sucked on every part of his neck while you slowly slipped your hand into his swim trunks, grabbing his bulge. His breath shortened as you gripped it tightly, rubbing up and down.

You were slow to grab the waistband of his swim trunks with your other hand and pull it down, but when you did, shock filled your face. You had never seen him so hard… It was bigger than usual, almost scary, “I haven’t cum in nearly 3 weeks.”

“Do you need me to tell you what masturbation is?” you joked, running your hand on his tip and using his precum to lubricate your hand.

“You can show me,” he joked back, throwing his head back while you started stroking faster, “I tried so hard to but— Fuck— I couldn’t c-cause it wasn’t warm like you.”

“That’s so pathetic it’s hot,” you chuckled, hearing his little laugh as well. You continued jerking him off, hoping you could get him to the edge faster, “I fucked myself a lot the past few weeks.”

“So you had time to jack off but not text me back,” he breathed out, joking with you. The sex with you two was always that— Free. No pressure, just you two.

“I guess you won’t want to hear about me cumming to a photo of you then,” you shrugged, stroking him continuously.

His eyes widened as he looked down at you, sweat covering his head, “Did you really?”

“Yes— That photo with your turtle neck… I was looking through my photos and found it in my favorites album,” you became focused on stroking, trying to ignore how wet you were, “You were so hot in it— I came twice just looking at it. Then the next day I came to that video you sent me of you jerking off a while back.”

“Jesus, you’re gonna kill me,” he moaned, which was motivation for you to slip your hand into your bikini bottoms, and subtly rub yourself while jacking him off. But when he looked down, the world was over for him, “Oh my god, you’re touching yourself.”

“It’s like there’s something wrong with me, Buck,” you moaned, removing your hand and shoving it into his mouth. He sucked all the juices of shamelessly, keeping your fingers in his mouth while he tasted you, “I’m always so wet. I cum, but it isn’t enough… I need you to fill me up, it’s the only thing that works.”

“Use me, take what you want— Fuck— I don’t care, just— Sit on my face or fuck me, please, just do whatever,” he moaned even though your hand was no longer touching him. Your words were enough to send him screaming.

“God, you are desperate,” you stared, straddling him and sitting on his bare dick. Your rubbed your clothed crotch on his exposed one, watching his mouth open, “You’re happy with whatever I give you, it’s sad. I could slap you and you’d probably thank me.”

He stayed quiet and grabbed your hips to encourage you to move more. There was something different about this time… You were in control. You had been very few times, but never so confidently, and it was driving him insane, “I could hump you for hours and you’d be okay with it, huh? You don’t even know what you want.”

“I want you to sit on my face,” he rebelled, ensuring you knew he knew exactly what he wanted.

You scoffed and put your hands on his shoulders. You dug your claws into them before moving them down and scratching hardly, watching red lines form as he moaned. You pressed your hands against his abs and pushed him down onto the bed to lay down.

He stared at you, no longer willing to make jokes. He watched you take your bikini bottoms off before shimming up and onto his abs. You stopped there and straddled his torso, humping his abs slowly, “I’ll let you taste me when I think you deserve it.”

“What did you drink?” He asked, swearing he could cum just watching you grind yourself on his abs, “Drink it more often cause you’re so fucking hot right now.”

“Shut up, I’m busy,” you moaned, grinding yourself on his abs and watching his eyebrows furrow, “I humped the pillow you’re laying on dozens of times while thinking of your cock filling me up— I even fucked myself with a dildo on it. Fuck, nothing makes me cum like you, it pisses me off.”

He moaned at the mere thought of it all, unsure if he could hold back any longer, “You can sit on my face on it too.”

You removed your body from his and moved up more, stopping as your crotch stood right over his face. He stared at your wetness, like a feral dog in training waiting for a treat… Waiting to get animalistic.

You decided to tease him a bit and put a finger inside of yourself, fingering yourself from only an inch above his eyes, “I bet those fingers don’t fill you like I do.”

“I’ll cum in front of your face and you can see how they get the job done, too,” you joked, moaning as you watched his hand go down to his own dick, jerking himself off.

“I can play this game too,” he moaned, stroking himself, “I could cum so fast just watching you… Fuck.”

Jealousy overwhelmed you as you removed your hand and sat down, holding back a bit of weight to let him breathe. He removed his hand from his own dick to push you off, making your eyebrows furrow in concern.

“Don’t do that stupid thing you do,” aggression leaked through his pores, “Sit on me— Like just… Put yourself on me. I want you to just stuff my mouth, not that stupid pussy shit where you pretend to be one pound. I don’t care about air, just sit.”

You chuckled before doing as he asked, sitting with all your weight. You groaned as he moaned right into your pussy, sending your back arching immediately. He moved his tongue so quickly you bent forward, gripping his hair and pulling it slightly. It was all overwhelming as you tested the waters, grinding yourself on his face and waiting to see if he’d ever ask for air.

But he didn’t.

Should you be concerned?

You lifted yourself up for a moment, watching him take a breath before shoving yourself on his face again, nearly coming at the sight of him being at your control. You grinded faster, using his face like a toy, “I can’t believe you want me to hump your face like a pillow— You’re so— Oh fuck.”

You couldn’t finish your sentence as you felt a knot in your stomach, a feeling which made you do the hardest thing you’d done in your entire life.

You lifted yourself up and got off of him.

He looked just as disappointed as his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, “I want to cum when you’re inside me.”

The disappointment faded into desire as he watched you straddle him again, this time putting your bare pussy on his dick, rubbing up and down, but not high enough to his tip, “You’re so wet.”

You kept grinding on the side of his cock, waiting for him to do something to earn him getting what you’ve both been waiting for, “Please let me fuck you— I’ll do anything, fuck— Please. This is so good, but I need to just be inside you, I’ll make you feel good, I promise.”

You took his begging as the final sign, taking it upon yourself to sit on his tip and slowly push down. You took your time, adjusting to what you’d spent too long without. When you were at the base, you moved your hips and circles, ignoring how stiff Bucky was. He was holding back, gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white, “Bucky— Fuck me. Please. I can’t take it anymore, it hurts, just fuck me.”

He grabbed your waist and flipped the two of you over so you now stood underneath him, staring at his face. He looked down at himself entering you, knowing with that sight and the feeling of you pulling his hair, he could cum in seconds.

He relentlessly pounded into you, doing what he spent weeks penting up and thinking about doing. He rammed himself into you like a hammer hitting a nail, making your body twitch as you whined loudly. Everyone was outside at the pool, and you had all the freedom to scream.

“You’re so fucking good for me, taking me like a good girl, look at you,” he gripped your waist tighter and fucked you harder, “You’ve corrupted me— I can’t fuck anyone else, not even myself. God, I wish I could fuck you all the time. In public, in private, in cars, in every room and closet I see— Fuck.”

“Bucky, I’m gonna cum,” you yelped, closing your eyes and throwing your head back, “Do it with me.”

“I’m not wearing a condom, not tonight, baby,” he said through grunts.

“I’m on the pill, cum inside me,” you moaned, telling him exactly what he needed to hear. He spent months cumming in a condom, and very occasionally on your stomach after fucking you, “Fill me up.”

“Oh my god, you’re gonna give me a heart attack,” he groaned loudly, meeting your volume as he pounded faster, “You’re milking me so good— I’ll cum inside you, I promise.”

You both moaned as you pulled him closer, the both of you grabbing each other while you felt the other release. It felt like it lasted minutes, taking longer to cool down as he peeled himself off of you to give you space.

You sat up slowly and looked down at the cum leaking out of you, which you felt curious about. You brought a finger to your entrance and picked up all the white cream around your hole and shoved inside of you. Thrusting a few times to ensure it was deep into you. You inhaled sharply at the feeling of both of your liquids mixing to become one.

You brought the finger to your mouth and licked it clean, looking over at Bucky, who’s eyes were wide.

“Bend over, we’re doing Round 2.”

9K notes · View notes

sableseb · 2 years

Text

｡･*･ ruined innocence. ･*･ﾟ

[disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here.]

.・。.・゜ ✫ ・.・✫・゜・。.

summary | chris forces you to have your first orgasm.

pairing | dark!daddy!chris evans x innocent!little!reader

warnings | non-con, crying, fingering, forced orgasm, squirting, naive reader

.・。.・゜ ✫ ・.・✫・゜・。.

an | idek what this is i just! wrote it lol. i forgibve myself. also, this fic is officially dedicated to @honeychicana bc i know how much she loves it lol <3

.・。.・゜ ✫ ・.・✫・゜・。.

You’ve always been such a naive little thing; it’s one of the things Chris loves the most about you.

You’ve never been touched by or touched anyone else, and you’ve certainly never touched yourself. (Chris has made sure of it.) But lately he’s been thinking that the time has finally come to show his little girl some new ways to play.

He’s been introducing things gradually. Slowly starting to dress you in more revealing clothes, exposing himself more often to you in subtle ways, even “massaging” your breasts and bottom a few times. Not making any big moves, just trying to see if it might start affecting you. And eventually, it does.

“Daddy,” you mumble through your pacifier one day as you’re sitting on his lap on your playmat in your room.

“Hmm?” he hums innocently as he plays with your toys along with you, one hand subtly under your skirt, resting on your inner thigh. His long, strong fingers rub soothingly across your delicate skin, and you shift uncomfortably.

“Feels weird,” you tell him as you try to continue playing, a faint fuzzy feeling building up in your tummy that you don’t recognize. Raising an eyebrow at you, Chris tilts his head.

“What feels weird, princess?” he asks, doing his best not to show his excitement at your progress. He moves his hand up a little closer to your undies, causing you to shift away slightly.

“Your hand,” you tell him, putting down your blocks and looking up at him with wide eyes. As he continues his gentle strokes, you feel the fuzzies in your belly growing. “Tickles.”

“Yeah?” Chris asks with a soft laugh, taking his other arm and wrapping it around you as you lean against him, still unaware of his intentions. His hand moves further under your skirt, brushing up against your clothed mound. Startled, you let out a whimper. “You alright, honey?” he asks.

You can feel heat rising through your cheeks as you lower your gaze, suddenly feeling shy and embarrassed. “Sweetheart?” Chris asks, taking your face in his hand and tilting it upwards, forcing you to look at him. “What’s wrong, doll?” he mocks concern.

Bottom lip trembling against your pacifier, you admit, “Feels… funny, Daddy. Feels funny… in… down…”

“Ohh,” Chris says knowingly, his strong fingers brushing up a bit harder against your panties. “Down here, little one?” he asks. You nod in confirmation. “I see. What does it feel like?”

“Um…” you try to think, not sure what words to use for the brand new experience. “Hot. Tingly. Burns, Daddy,” you tell him softly, causing him to coo softly at you.

“Oh, poor baby. That’s no good. You want Daddy to make the funny feeling go away, sweetheart?” he asks. You nod your head eagerly, earning a smile from the man as he turns you around and lays you back on the play mat, flipping up your skirt.

“Okay, sweetie. Then Daddy’s gonna need to take off your undies, okay? There’s no need to be embarrassed, princess,” he comforts as he pulls at the elastic band, removing the panties from you and setting them aside.

“Okay, doll. Let’s have a look,” he says as he opens up your legs, positioning himself between them to prevent you from closing them. You whimper into your pacifier as the cold air of the room hits your untouched sex, but Chris is quick to reassure you, “Shh, it’s okay, honey. Just let Daddy take care of you.”

Spreading apart your pussy lips with his hands, he hums, noting, “Uh oh, looks like someone’s awfully wet down here.” Tears build in your eyes at his words.

“‘s it bad, Daddy?” you mumble, afraid of what the strange bodily response could mean.

“No, princess. Not if Daddy takes care of you and makes the bad feeling go away,” he promises as he dips a single finger into your wetness, causing you to cry out softly in humiliation. “It’s okay, sweet girl. Daddy’s gonna make it all better.”

Chris takes his time, pumping just the tip of his finger in and out of you as you start to feel a balloon expanding in your lower belly, the burning sensation only seeming to worsen as he continues. “D-Daddy, stop,” you plead as a tear trails down your cheek, but he simply shushes you.

“Shhh, sweetheart. I know, it’s so scary, isn’t it, bub. But you’re okay, honey. You’re bein’ such a good girl for me,” he praises as he pauses his finger, trailing it up to begin prodding at your clit.

The sudden overwhelming pleasure of his gentle finger on your bundle of nerves causes you to jump, but Chris just presses his other hand down on your belly to hold you in place as he begins rubbing in circles over the nub.

“There we go, sweetheart. Right there, looks like that’s the spot we need,” he hums as you fight back sobs, the burning becoming unbearable as he lifts up the hood of your clit, brushing up directly against the little nub.

“N-no, Daddy,” you whimper, the sudden urge to release hitting you all at once. “S-stop, p-please, ‘m gonna… h-have to go potty…”

“Have to go potty?” he chuckles at your adorableness, the way you don’t even recognize your approaching orgasm only turning Chris on even more. “That’s okay, sweetie. You can go, go potty for me,” he coos as his fingers continue over your most sensitive spot.

Unable to fight it any longer, you let out a sob against your pacifier as you let go, your orgasm ripping through you harshly as your whole body seizes in agonizing pleasure. Chris grins as you squirt out onto his fingers, praising, “That’s it, sweetheart. Theere you go, such a good girl.”

As you finally begin to wind down, Chris pulls his soaked hands away, licking up your juices as you lie back on your playmat, struggling to catch your breath.

.・。.・゜ ✫ ・.・✫・゜・。.

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