#sebastian stan imagines
my comfort character is so soft!!
the comfort character in question:
2K notes · View notes
tulsa jesus freak.
summary. | He’d never trade your innocent body for a can of gin. No, instead, he chooses to sing you like his favourite bible hymn.
warnings. | Non/dubcon, coercion, manipulation, gaslighting, smut, innocence kink, corruption kink, Daddy kink, dom/sub, manhandling, angst, virginity loss, unprotected vaginal sex, fingering (reader doesn’t come), dirty talk, praise kink, degradation, creampie kink, *religion, drinking (gin), safewording (but not really), dumbification, humiliation, mild sexism/misogyny, mentions of marriage, and more. 18+, MINORS DNI.
word count. | 9k.
pairings. | Dark!Lee Bodecker x Innocent!Reader.
author’s note. | since my birthday is coming up, here’s a gift from me to you! please don’t forget to reblog! if you take ANY inspiration from my fics (i’ll know, trust me) and you don’t give credit, you will be blocked and i’ll let others know. *the father is a preacher, there is no explicit mentions of religion, no blasphemy, or any disrespect. the sex occurs in the forest.
White lace decorates your Mother’s gown, only the finest for the wife of Knockemstiff’s priest. You sit on the red leather chair, your knees bent and back hunched over. You peer out the window with your soft yet scarred hands in your lap, thinking of all the world’s possibilities. Instead of trying on dresses for the service on Sunday, you could be picking strawberries at the field, readying the berries for jam.
But your Mother is a woman who has needs along with wants, and she doesn’t like it when anything is in her way. You always bite your tongue when it comes to these things. You’ve found it best that keeping quiet and never voicing your opinion is better than saying one wrong thing and having almost every churchgoer in town show up at your doorstep with pitchforks and torches.
“I think the cream colour is more elegant than the white, don’t you think so, dearest?” she asks, and you turn your head. You look up at her and quickly fix your posture, not wanting to have your ear chewed out on this lovely Thursday afternoon. “Yes, Ma, it looks elegant,” you gracefully tell her, fuelling her ego just how she likes. You always add gasoline to the fire, and it leaves you with no friends.
You know barely anyone in this town. The occasional words exchanged with the shopkeepers and passersby only occur because of your Father’s exalted status. If only they knew that he isn’t as holy as he seems to be and would much rather worship a bottle of moonshine than anything else. “What are you gonna wear, sweetie?” she asks, still admiring herself in the mirror.
“Well, I just thought that I’d wear that dress Nana gave me for my sixteenth,” you admit to her, and she hums in approval. “Good, we can’t be blowing all our money on useless things,” she sighs in relief, and you’re almost tempted to point out her hypocrisy as the price tag on the dress would be enough to make your Nana have a heart attack. “Do we gotta cook for the service?” you ask her, wanting so desperately to be able to bake a pretty pie or candy some yams.
“No need for any cookin’ this time, sweets; we got people bringing their own food for us,” she reminds you, and you nod. Your eyes dart around the store, the room almost empty with only the two shopkeepers and two customers. Your gaze goes to the mannequins that stand by the windows. You can see the old bobby pins holding the back of the outfits together, and you stifle a giggle.
Even the prettiest seeming things aren’t perfect, and you find that to be so cliche. You haven’t even noticed that your Mother is trying to tighten the straps of her dress until the hushed whispers of the store grow quieter. You believe they’re judging you; they always do. “It’s quieter than that little library you always run off to; what’s goin’ on now?” your Mother grumbles, stepping down from the level that made her tower over you.
The most exciting things that occur in this small town known as Knockemstiff are the occasional murders that usually take place on the outskirts of the city. “Oh lordy, it’s the Sheriff!” your Mother squeals, and you furrow your eyebrows. “Sheriff?” you repeat, not really grasping the concept that there is a Sheriff here in Knockemstiff. “Yes, dearest, and we need to get on his good side!” your Mother exclaims, reaching for her red purse.
She hasn’t stopped wearing it since your Father allowed her to splurge on it a few months ago. Father never really allows splurges, only if your family benefits from it for a while. But he just had to let the unnecessary purchase happen, only because your Mother nearly had his hide because he forgot to do something for Valentine’s day. You tried to convince her that he was just busy, and he indeed was. But your words went unheard, and you swore to never speak on such a topic again.
“But–” you start before getting cut off. “No buts! We need him, dearest; we need to have a good connection with him,” your Mother explains quickly, and yet you’re still lost. These ‘affairs’ of your family and the higher-up townsfolk are always so confusing. Your Father is already powerful (though you loathe the way he abuses it), and yet he still wants his empire to grow.
“You doin’ alright there, Mrs. Preacher?” the Sheriff drawls, a toothpick between his lips and his hands on his slightly pudgy waist. You look away. Eye contact is embarrassing, and the Sheriff is so intimidating that even his presence is overwhelming from just a few feet away. You slowly scoot away from him, still seated in your chair. He reeks of sins and cigarettes, maybe even a hint of that moonshine your Father would drink.
The holster on his leather belt holds a pistol. It’s shiny and clean, with not one scratch or scuff on it. He calls your Mother ‘Mrs. Preacher’ with a hint of disgust in his voice. He’s no holy man. God gave up on him a while ago, and he doesn’t care. But he does care about the swindling election creeping up on the county, just a few mere months away. Blue pins with his name written in bold have found their way in your home and heck—even in your room as well.
“All’s well, Sheriff Bodecker. What brings you here? Can’t possibly be buyin’ a dress for yourself,'' your Mother smiles, and even Lee cracks a grin. “Florence wore my patience out years ago with this bullshit; I’m just doin’ my rounds, Mrs. Preacher. You got a problem with that?” he questions, tilting his head to the side. “No problems at all, Sheriff. Sorry if I offended you… This is my daughter!” she exclaims, pointing at you.
“What?” you mumble out loud, looking up at the two elders. “Oh, uh, hi, Mister-Sheriff Bodecker-Sir,” you stammer nervously as he stares you down like a wolf. “G’day to you too, li’l girl,” he smirks, and you look down in embarrassment. Your Mother clicks her tongue in disappointment, and you just know that you’ll never hear the end of it. Lee’s eyes dart between the two of you, tension seems from the corners, and he can’t help but be confused.
Maybe the happy family scene is just an act…
“She’s just shy… My husband and I were wondering if you’d come to the service this Sunday. You don’t have to stay too long, but I'm sure it'll be very beneficial,” she reasons, with an emphasis on her last two words. Lee nods in understanding, and his eyes flicker back over to you. You’re still looking away, and he doesn’t mind it at all. Knowing how his powerful presence frightens people makes him feel drunk on happiness and ego.
He lets out a small chuckle. “Then I’ll be sure to be there. You got any room for a sinner?” he questions, hooking his thumbs into his belt. “Always,” your Mother gleams, clasping her hands together, almost in a prayer-like manner. “And I trust that your sweet li’l girl will be there too, right?” he asks, turning his head to face you. You sight up straighter at the mention and gulp nervously. “O- Of course, Mister-Sheriff-Bodecker-Sir,” you ramble out. Your Mother sighs in shame, but Lee simply smiles. “Just Sheriff Bodecker or Mr. Bodecker,” he corrects, and you nod.
“Okay, Mr. Bodecker.”
It’s Sunday. You like to assign colours to each day of the week on your little calendar. Monday is orange, Tuesday is yellow, Wednesday is blue, Thursday is green, Friday is purple, and Saturday is pink. But for you. Sunday is white. Maybe it’s the symbolism of the colour, or perhaps it’s because, on Sundays, you’re always forced to wear white. It’s not like you hate the colour; you just get tired of it.
The other girls in town wear different colours, even if most of the time it’s brown. Written in blue pen on the Sunday square is the time of the service. Your Father’s handwriting resembled a chicken scratch when he was younger, is what your Mother says to you constantly. Hers takes a while to decipher, but you’ve grown a skill out of reading it with ease. Your friends would envy your talent of being able to read cursive easily when you were younger, and thinking back, you miss them.
You don’t have friends, not yet and not here, at least. Sometimes, you like to be alone. It’s nice to be by yourself, it’s so very calm and relaxing. You wish you could have a dog, perhaps a Golden Retriever or a German Shepherd. But your Mother hates animals, and so does your Father. So you just use the company of your pillows for the time being. They don’t mind any amount of touch you place on them, and they don’t complain either.
When you were younger, you’d swear that your toys could talk. It was a slight improvement from your imaginary friend, who was named Bethel, but your Father still wasn’t pleased. He demanded you’d be sent to some boarding school to set you straight because at the time, kids your age had learned Santa isn’t real, and the tooth fairy is really just their parents. Your Mother had begged him not to, and you miss those times where she had a heart, and she had a soul.
When she was calloused and egoistical. But you can’t blame her; your Father has that type of sway with his words.
She calls out your name, harshly and her voice turns into a croak towards the end because of the strength she uses. “Are you ready? We have to go set up!” she questions, looking at the watch on her wrist. It’s a gold colour, but that doesn’t mean it’s made of gold or plated with it, either. All the gold jewellery is in the safe, as per your Father’s request. You look at yourself in the mirror, not liking the way the tag of your dress is poking into your skin. You’d try to cut it off, but the jagged edge would be just as annoying.
You reach as far as your arm can let you, and you fold it so that the corners don’t bother you. The skirt of the dress is a bit too long for your liking. It hangs a few centimetres beneath your knees, and it leaves your calves exposed. You’re not wearing your stockings because they have a rip in them, and you’re too nervous about borrowing a pair from your Mother. “Yes!” you yell back, grabbing your purse and your sweater.
You have a small snack in your bag, along with a few other necessities. The purpose of the sweater is to keep you warm because, for some odd reason, the church is always a frigid temperature. You follow your Mother to her car, and you buckle your seatbelt up before she speeds off. The car smells nice and clean; perhaps there’s a new air freshener. A green pine tree hangs on the mirror, and you fight the urge to grab it. “When we get there, you have to go to the forest,” she starts, and you furrow your eyebrows together.
You’re not too fond of the forest, only because of the alarming amount of dead raccoons you always find. “Why?” you question, looking out the window to see women and men of different ages and sizes walking in different directions. It’s Sunday, so most of them might be going to the park. You’ve always wanted to go there, but your Father never lets you. One day you’ll sneak out. You’re sure of it.
“Because we need twigs,” she bluntly answers, staring straight at the road ahead. “Why do you need twigs?” you ask, shifting your gaze from the outside world to her. “For a fire,” your Mother tells you. “Why do you need to light a fire? Fires are for camping and for cooking,” you press, letting your curiosity get the best of you. “Just stop asking questions. It’s annoying and quite frankly none of your business,” she snaps, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.
Defensive as always. For what reason is beyond even you.
“Where’s your accent gone to? Hm? New York?” you sneer, noticing that her drawl is no longer laced between her semi-hurtful words. “Shut your mouth. I need to make a good impression. I need to stand out,” she informs you, and your face is downturned into a confused, frazzled frown. She makes no sense; one moment, she’s saying one thing, the next, she’s changing her tune. “I thought you said we gotta blend in,” you murmur loud enough for her to hear. “Yes, and things have changed since then. So you need to hide that pathetic accent, and you need to speak like somebody from the big city,” she demands, slightly raising her tone.
You nod, and you keep quiet the rest of the ride. It’s better to leave your Mother to stew than anything else.
There’s another car there, and you recognize it before your Mother can even park next to it. “The Sheriff…” you whisper, stepping out of the vehicle. Your feet hit the gravel and mix the small stones around as you wobble just a tiny bit. “Run along, now,” she orders, closing the trunk with a loud slam. “Don’t I have to greet the Sheriff and Dad?” you wonder out loud, and your Mother rolls her eyes.
“Go,” she eventually tells you, and you run as fast as your feet can go. You step inside, and your skin already pebbles up into goosebumps, but you don’t have the patience to put your sweater on. You see your Father and the Sheriff speaking to each other in low tones, both looking equally as stressed as your Mother. “Hi, Mr. Sheriff Bodecker-Sir,” you nervously say, catching both of their attentions. Lee flicks his dark eyes towards you, and his bitter mood turns sweet at the sight of your smile.
“Good morning, sweetie,” he greets, tilting his head upwards, and your Father grumbles some sort of nonsense. “Go do what your Mother told you, make sure they’re not flimsy and disgusting,” your Father instructs, and you nod your head. “Go do what?” Lee curiously asks, placing his hands on his hips and clenching his jaw. He catches the way you wring your hands together, and he knows you’re intimidated by him. “I have to go collect twigs for a fire,” you explain to him, and he nods.
“Why not branches?” he questions, shifting his posture just a little bit. He stands straighter, and his tummy juts out only a tiny bit more. “I can’t cut them,” you inform, and he nods his head again. “Let me help you out; you’ll need to collect plenty for a fire,” he offers, even though it’s not really an offer and more of a suggestion than anything else. He doesn’t leave any room for you to either accept him or reject him; he just walks past you and out the door.
You follow Lee like a lost puppy dog, trying to keep up with the long strides that quickly take him to the forest. “How old are you, sweetheart?” he asks, taking his baton out. He uses it to smack at the tree branches that interrupt his path, and you have to wait until they stop shaking to pass by them. You tell him your age, and you don’t ask for his in return because it’s not the proper thing to do. “I’m forty. I know you wanted to ask, so there ya’ go,” he meekly tells you, and you nod even though he can’t see you.
“Have you ever done this before?” Lee questions and you have to pause to think. “Well, both yes and no. I use to look around for twigs when I was younger, but I’ve never had them ask me to go find a plethora of them,” you explain to him, looking down at the ground. The grass and dirt of the forest are covered in many dried leaves. Some are crunchy, and some aren’t. You fight the urge to jump on most of them because you know it won’t leave a nice impression on Lee.
“‘Plethora,’ you’re pretty smart, aren’t ya?” he wonders out loud, quoting the word you used in an almost envious tone. You open your mouth to answer, but he beats you to it. “I get, you’re from the big city or whateva,’ and maybe that means shit to some people, but it doesn’t mean anything to me. Alright? Tell your Father and Mother that. They’re too dumb to realize it,” he snaps, clearly frustrated with other things that you don’t even want to know. You obviously won’t tell them those exact words; you’d rather face the wrath of the Sheriff than the wrath of your parents.
Some leaves are wet. Perhaps from some light showers that happened a day or two ago. They stick to the bottom and sides of your shoes, but you don’t care enough to take them off. “Where are you even from anyways? San Francisco?” he rudely interrogates, and suddenly you feel like you’ve committed some sort of crime. Maybe thievery, or perhaps arson. A kind of guilt that would usually accompany those crimes weighs on your chest, and you’re not sure why.
You haven’t done anything wrong; you’ve simply just followed orders that everyone keeps throwing at you.
You wonder if your parents have that guilt. Or maybe they’ve got it as a burden instead. But they walk with a jump in each step, and they do more work than you can ever fathom doing, so there can’t be anything holding them down. No conscience, no guilt, no luggage, nothing. You, on the other hand, drag your feet when you walk. You rarely ever skip down the sidewalk, and you don’t jump around either. Every morning you wake up with butterflies in your stomach.
But they aren’t the good kind, so maybe instead of butterflies, you have moths. And unlike your parents, you just can’t lie without feeling bad.
“We’re from Tulsa, Sir,” you inform him with a whisper in your tone and an awkward smile on your face. There aren’t anymore leaves on the ground, and you begin to search for twigs. You’re unsure if you’re going to find enough for a fire, but you’ll try your hardest either way. Besides, it’s better to have something than nothing, right? “Tulsa? Like in Oklahoma?” he double-backs, not sure if he heard you right. Lee never would’ve thought you and your family are from Tulsa, of all places.
It seems almost criminal for you not to be from a big city where everyone is constantly bustling. You’ve got a sort of simple glamour to you that is meant to be strutted on the streets of New York, not on the rough, broken-down roads of Knockemstiff or Tulsa. Your family certainly doesn’t act like they’re from Tulsa; perhaps they’ve forgotten where they’ve come from. Money does have the known side effect of amnesia, no?
“Yes, Sir,” you affirm, nodding your head and kicking at some stone to find more twigs. You have around six or seven in your hand so far, and Lee has none. His palms are sweaty and hot, but yours are cold and dry. The weather gets you like that sometimes, but the Sheriff just runs hot. “Never thought you’d be from Tulsa. You belong in that New York place that everyone is flocking to,” he jokes under his breath with intentions of letting you hear him. You catch his words, and you let out a giggle because everyone says the same as well.
Lee smiles, appreciating the way you know he’s lighthearted.
“You gotta get more than that. That ain’t gonna do shit,” Lee points out, even though he doesn’t make any movements or attempts to help you out. You’re tired, and all you want to do is go home and sleep for the rest of the day. “About how many should I collect?” you ask him because he’s older and he knows better. He’s worldly, and you’re sure he can lend you some wisdom and expertise. “O’er twenty for sure,” he estimates, squinting his eyes to look at the handful of sticks in your hand.
“You got any friends? Or are you a loner? What about a job? Do you go to university or college?” The Sheriff suddenly bombards you with questions, and you stutter as you try to understand what he wants from you. “No, I don’t have any friends. But I’m not a loner. I don’t have a job, and I graduated college,” you explain to him as you try to keep your feet steady against the bumpy ground. You sort through sticks to find some twigs, and you only end up drawing two from your search.
“Hm, well, I can be your friend if you want. Besides, your parents are going to be inviting me over these coming days, and I don’t want it to be awkward,” Lee offers, and your ears perk up as his words sink in. “Really? Oh, wow, thank you so much, Mr. Bodecker-Sheriff-Sir!” you exclaim to him, turning around and wrapping your arms around his squishy, soft stomach. The hug lasts for only a fleeting moment, just a few seconds. You pull away from him, and you’re smiling so very brightly that Lee just knows you lied to him when you said you’re not a loner.
“Just call me Lee, since we’re friends now,” he tells you, and you nod. “Okay, Lee.” His name feels weird as it rolls off your tongue. Too casual. You feel the need to refer to him by something that carries respect, not friendliness. But you brush off the weirdness of it, knowing that you’ll get used to it eventually. “Look, over there. There’s a bunch of twigs yonder,” Lee points out, nodding in the direction of a shed with two large trees on either side. You look over, not sure how he sees any twigs from so far.
“C’mon,” he urges, stepping in front of you. Lee walks ahead of you, and you quickly follow behind him. You’ve now got around eleven twigs in your head, and they’re all poking your skin in a not-so-very gentle manner. The shed has rust all over it, the silver turning into a copper-brown colour that looks hard to clean. You remember one time your Father made you clean an old, rusted pan that he found in the garage. It took you hours, and by the end of it, you were absolutely exhausted.
Lee leans forward just a bit, bending down and using the black baton to push off some leaves and broken sticks. “There,” he says, slapping the wand on the ground and standing back up. You hesitatingly pick up the few twigs he’s uncovered, and you have a handful and a half. Your bag is resting on your elbow, and your sweater is wrapped around your waist. You don’t want it to get dirty, which is why you aren’t wearing it. “Thanks, Lee, I really appreciate it,” you express, pressing your lips together to give him a kind smile.
Lee nonchalantly waves his baton, and you’re surprised at how laid back and calm of a person he is. You expected him to be strict, a stickler for the rules, and as someone who’d constantly hover over you while you do simple things. Just waiting for you to mess up so he can smoke you out for your mistake. “You move around a lot, don’t you, sweet thing?” he questions after a few wordless moments.
Not silent, wordless.
You can hear each others’ chests rising and falling, both of your mouths slightly parted as you pant just a tiny bit. The wind whistles, shaking a few leaves and makes them rustle. “Yeah, we only settle down for a few months before we’re going somewhere else. It’s tiring, you know? I feel like I can barely catch my breath or sit down for a few seconds. Always taping boxes, writing ‘fragile’ on them, packing my suitcases,” you voice, knowing you could never say these things to your parents unless you want to have them yell at you.
“Well, I’m really sorry about that…” Lee meekly tells you, not sure what else to say. “I- It’s alright, not like it’s your fault, heh. I just want to have a normal life, not one that’s constantly changing,” you murmur to him, wondering about how different things would be—how different you would be if your Father wasn’t forcing you to change locations all the time. Lee thinks nice and hard about a way to change the topic because he can just feel the awkwardness growing by the second.
“You didn’t buy yourself a dress from the store? For the service?” he questions, and you look at him. “Nope,” you shake your head while popping the ‘p.’ You turn your body as you continue to look for more twigs, aiming to add at least fifteen or twenty before you go back to where your parents are waiting. He sucks in a sharp breath, and he clicks his tongue in a disappointing manner. Your furrow your eyebrows. Did you say something wrong? “Such a shame, there was this black one with lace on it. It was on one of the mannequins in the window. It would’ve looked lovely on you,” he explains to you, and you know just which dress he’s talking about.
“Oh, yeah, I liked that one,” you reply, squinting your eyes as you continue on with your search. “Bet your Mother buys more things for herself than she does for you, right?” The Sheriff questions and you nearly choke on your saliva. “Uhm, no, that’s not the case at all, Lee,” you inform him, trying your best to lie. “I’d get you anything you want, you know? Because that’s what friends do.” Lee has a sort of wicked smile on his face, lopsided and bright.
He takes a step closer towards you, mashing some poor leaves beneath his leather shoes. They’ve got steel tips, too, just like your Father. “R- Really?” you ask, stepping backwards to preserve some form of personal space. “Mhm, friends do so many things for each other; to each other…” he whispers. His voice drops to a low tone, breathy and not at all harsh. It’s calming, so very calming. “I never knew that,” you shyly admit to him, no longer looking for twigs. You’ve forgotten about them, in all honesty.
“There’s this special thing that friends do when they first grow a bond, like the bond we have right now! Do you want to do it?” Lee asks, hopeful and starry-eyed. You let out a small gasp, not knowing what he’s talking about yet still wanting to do it. It seems like your parents will be staying in Knockemstiff for a while… So you might as well strengthen your newfound friendship with Lee as soon as possible, right?
You nod your head excitedly, nearly making yourself giggle. Lee smirks at your eagerness, knowing that you’re absolutely clueless about what he’s going to do to you. “What is it? Is it like a game?” you ask him, more curious than a cat. He doesn’t say anything. No, nothing at all. Instead, he drops his beloved baton on the forest’s floor, and he pushes you against the shed. Your back bumps up against the zinc, but you’re not hurt by his suddenness. “Just… Watch, and feel sweetheart,” Lee hums gleefully, and you’re just a tad hesitant.
But he’s your friend, and you need to trust him. So you release yourself from your own binds and just go with what he’s doing. Friends don’t harm each other… Right?
Two warm hands scrunch up the cloth of your dress, forming a pile of white polyester at your lower abdomen. Your crotch area is exposed, and goosebumps immediately find a home on your skin. “Hold that,” he orders, and you listen to him. His hands get replaced with yours, and Lee can feel his blood rushing down to his cock from being so close to touching your pussy. His nimble yet slightly chubby fingers hook into the waist of your cotton panties, and he slowly pulls them down.
You watch him as he lets your underwear fall at your ankles, and your cunt is exposed. He stares you directly in your eyes, only intimidating you and not comforting you at all. But despite your slowly growing discomfort (and slight fear as well), you remain as silent as a grave, and you don’t dare to say anything against what he’s doing.
Those same fingers of Lee’s have been stained with blood and dirt before. They’ve been stained with tears and whipped cream. They’ve been cut up and broken before. Now, they are soaked with your wetness as he lightly touches your folds. He’s not sure why you’re wet, but he likes to think that it’s all because of him. “You’re soaked, sweetie. Why’s that?” Lee questions, a sort of condescending tone lingering between his words.
“Uhm… I- I don’t know, Lee- Isn’t this, like, bad? Since it’s out of wedlock and all…” you nervously ask him, worried about all the things your parents have told you in your life. “Nope, because we’re friends, darling!” he cheers, a bright smile on his face. You let out a sigh of relief, your nerves no longer set on fire due to your unnecessary overthinking. “Just relax for me, and let me do what I need to do,” Lee urges, and you lean your head against the zinc behind you to calm down.
Lee traces his fingers up and down your lips, just barely grazing your swollen clit. He knows he shouldn’t waste any time because these days, it seems to fly quickly. His digits decide to leave your little button alone, and he brings them to your drooling hole. He also knows he shouldn’t take his precious time with every move, which is why he pushes his two fingers inside you without warning. You cry out loudly at the sudden pain that fills you. You feel like you’re being intruded by a rude passerby, perhaps one with eyes that can’t leave anything unseen.
“L- Lee, it hurts!” you whine to him, wondering if you’re being ripped in half. He says nothing, and he lowers himself onto the ground. His left knee rests against the pile of leaves, and he watches the way your pussy hugs his fingers tightly. He’s as stiff as a rock, if not more. He’d love to push you to your limits and even past them, too. Lee strokes your inner walls as he lets you get adjusted to him. With him, you’ll always be filled up with something.
“Does it still hurt, sweetheart?” the Sheriff mockingly asks, but you’re too oblivious to notice the way he taunts you and your weakness. “N- Not as much as before… It kind of feels good, like, tingly?” you describe to him as best as you can, and he just wants to fuck that innocence out of you as soon as possible. ”Aw, I’m glad you’re feeling it now. And plus, I’d much rather see you writing in pain in other ways,” he whispers under his breath. You don’t catch his words because you’re too busy trying to catch your breath.
Lee doesn’t think he’s a sadist; no, of course not. He just believes that you’d look so pretty crying for him to stop hurting you. The burning sensation has turned into something gratifying, and you wonder if Lee has magic laced between his wickedly clever words. Lee’s cock strains against his brown pants, and he has a feeling you’ll be the death of him. “This li’l cunt of yours is so tight, baby. I bet you’ve never touched it before, right? Well, I’ll be damned. I guess first come, first serve really does apply to everythin’,” he casually chatters, talking as though he isn’t knuckle-deep inside of you in the middle of a forest.
“I’d love to ruin this little hole a’ yours. You’d make me the happiest man alive if you let me,” he hums, pressing his lips together as your wetness soaks his hand. “What the fuck am I even sayin’? You don’t gotta give me permission or anything. This is my little pussy. And I’ll do whatever I want with it, even if it isn’t too holy,” he chuckles, and you nod in agreement because you’d trust him with your life, especially since he’s your friend.
Lee slowly begins to thrust his digits in and out of your virgin hole, admiring the squelching sounds and sheen that your arousal causes. Your breath hitches at the growing pleasure, and your hips buck towards him. “Already a slut for me, aren’t ya?” the Sheriff chortles, and you squeeze your hands into tight fists. The twigs poke into your soft skin, and you let out a hiss. You drop them right by his feet, and you look down to where they’ve fallen. Instead of your eyes meeting the ground, they cross with Lee’s, and you find yourself entranced.
You both gaze at each other longingly, and Lee pushes his fingers back into your pussy. Your jaw drops, and you let out a gasp at the lovely stimulation. The man beneath you curls his fingers, and he quickly finds that sweet spot. Your knees buckle, and you nearly give away. “That feels so good, doesn’t it, sweetie? I know it does, and it’ll feel even better in a few seconds,” Lee whispers, shallowly fucking his fingers into your pussy. He tries his hardest to multitask, but he can only really focus on the way you’re slowly turning into a slut just for him.
“Feels- Feels so good, Lee,” you whimper, gyrating your hips against his hand out of pure helplessness. You have no idea as to what you’re doing, but you let your body take control. “Call me ‘Daddy,’ okay?” he orders, and you nod. It’s a bit peculiar, but you’d do anything to make your friend happy. “Okay, Daddy,” you agree before you bite down on your bottom lip. The pads of his fingers stroke your walls and your g-spot roughly. Yet, his movements are still a bit slow as he has no plans to make you come just yet.
You’ve never experienced anything like this. You wonder if this is what heaven feels like because, damn, this pleasure must be from there. And if it’s a place on Earth, it must be wherever Lee goes. Maybe he hails from there. You’ve never met a man so nice like him. He’s the first to ever make you feel anything.
A certain pressure fills your stomach, and your skin lights on fire with a sort of sensitivity. Your legs twitch every now and then, and they nearly clamp down on Lee’s arm. He switches motions, from scissoring his digits to pushing them into you. You’re panting like a bitch in heat, and your cunt is soaking wet. You feel messy, but you don’t care. “Uhm, Daddy? Why does it feel so overwhelming?” you worryingly ask him as a knot in your stomach grows. You’re not sure what it is, and you try your hardest to pinpoint the feeling.
You feel like you need to use the bathroom, and the last thing you want to do is embarrass yourself in front of your new friends. And if you do, you know he’ll leave just like the rest of them. “That’s because of my fingers, baby. Don’t worry, okay? Just relax and let it happen,” the Sheriff reassures, even though you’re still uneasy about it. Something about it puts you off, and even though you want to try your hardest, you don’t want to risk anything. “I don’t think I can, Daddy… I’m really sorry!” you exclaim to him, worried that he’s upset with your words.
And he is. He’s so very upset with not only your words but with you as well.
Lee sighs heavily, with disappointment and a touch of sadness written on his features, too. “I’m really, really sorry!” you apologize once again, even though your words just can’t correctly grasp how distressed you are. He clicks his tongue, and he shakes his head. He feels a bit bad for you, but he also feels hurt that you won’t push your boundaries for him. You’re supposed to be his special one, and you’re supposed to do absolutely anything for him.
A harsh wind cuts through the silence, and Lee almost wants to ignore your pleas and continue to toy with you however he likes. But he’s not that cruel, and he’s not stupid, either. He knows if he messes up once, it’ll forever be engraved in your mind.
Suddenly, he pulls his fingers out of your pussy. He leaves you empty and gaping, and you miss the full feeling that you enjoyed. His hand is sticky with your juices, and the sight of your arousal on him makes him feral. “It’s okay, sweetie, I understand,” he softly tells you, and he even graces you with a charming smile. You wonder how he isn’t married, especially since Lee is so perfect.
Every woman in Knockemstiff either has no taste, or they’re just plain stupid.
“N- No, it’s not okay! Because I ruined it… Will it ruin our friendship? Oh, God, please don’t let that happen! Please, Lee- I mean, Daddy. I can’t lose you. You’re my only friend...” you beg him, only now realizing how grave your mistake is. You want to take back your words so badly, but you know that it’s too late for that. Tears sting your innocent eyes, and your throat aches as you feel a sob build up there. All it can take is one sentence before the waterworks start.
Lee realizes that he can simply just play you like a fiddle. Your naivety may be a curse for you, but it’s a gift for him. “Well, I can’t say for sure what it means for our future. Y’know, that was supposed to be a special moment! But you ruined it, sweetie,” he tells you with sadness on his tongue. Your face forms a frown, and you look away from him to try and push out your heavy emotions. “But, we can fix it,” he adds, and you flash your gaze towards him. “Really?” you ask in disbelief, hopeful that maybe your friendship won’t be going to waste.
“Yes, sweetie, we sure can fix it. You want that, don’t ya? Well, all you gotta do is let me use you how I please,” he briskly explains, and you immediately nod your head. Your heart soars, perhaps like one of the seagulls by the beach, and maybe you’re the happiest person in the whole wide world. “How do I do that, Lee? Sorry, Daddy. Please tell me, I don’t want to spoil anythin’ of ours anymore. Oh, and thank you for givin’ me another chance! I’m really grateful!” you ramble, your face bright even though you haven’t really acknowledged what you’re asking for.
Hearing you call him ‘Daddy” makes Lee want to sin over and over again, without asking for forgiveness from anyone at all. His pants and boxers are just too uncomfortable, and his cock is basically begging to be buried in your canal. Lee abruptly stands up, towering over you like the true monster he is. You gulp thickly, nervous, and just a tiny bit erratic. He moves a little closer to you, and his stomach touches yours. “Turn around and lift up your skirt,” he orders, with his eyes blown out into absolute darkness.
You nod, and you slowly do as he said. He watches you like a hawk, and he stares at your ass as it’s gradually uncovered. He’d love to spank you and play with your butt until you’re begging him to stop, but he knows he shouldn’t get too ahead of himself. Lee’s feet kick at your ankles gently, and he urges you to spread your legs further apart. You do exactly that, and you can feel chills running throughout your body. Patiently, of course, you wait for either his next move or demand. You’re not sure if you should say or do anything else, so you decide to keep quiet until he speaks.
Lee quietly drags his zipper down before he undoes his button and fiddles with his belt. He does it all as quickly as he can, with his chest heavy and face slightly flushed. The vein on his temple bulges out from his arousal, and Lee swears he can’t recall the last time he’s felt this way. He struggles just a little bit before finding the groove of his movements at last. His pants fall down his legs, and he lets his boxers join them, too. Lee’s cock bounces up, hard and leaking, and it slaps against his stomach.
One of his big hands grip the base of it, and he watches as a bead of pre-cum slowly rolls past his slit. He’s a raging red, perhaps almost purple colour. “Daddy?” you eventually call out, wondering if he’s okay. “I’m here, li’l baby, I’m here,” he reassures before taking a step closer towards you. “Hold onto the shed, and don’t make a sound unless it’s my name,” Lee commands, and you do exactly that. You splay your hands on the grey yet copper-coloured zinc, and you press your lips together until they form a thin line.
Lee guides the fat tip of his cock to your soaking wet pussy, and the foreign feeling of something so bulbous has you a bit nervous. He knows that if you saw his cock, you’d panic. He slowly pushes it inside you, watching as your cunt stretches around him. You hug him tightly, and Lee moans loudly. You’re biting down on your lip roughly, trying not to make any noises at all, but it’s hard. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans, swiping his tongue against his bottom lip. You have no idea what he means, but you have a feeling it’s about something good.
“Just grippin’ me like a fuckin’ fist, hm?” he jokes, bucking his hips into you. His girthy, thick cock sheaths itself entirely inside your pussy, and you feel like you’re either going to burst or split in half. His groin rests against your ass, and Lee tosses his head back. Tears sting your eyes from this sudden pain that burns you without remorse. “D- Daddy…” you whimper out to him, scared that maybe something terrible will happen. “Shh, shut your stupid fuckin’ mouth, it’s okay. You’re okay, just keep quiet and let me fuck you,” he sneers, and you whisper out a quick apology.
You feel full, maybe a little too full for your liking. The kind of fullness that you lost moments before this, but just at a tenfold. “It’s too much, Daddy,” you finally cry out, and Lee quickly shuts you up by clamping a hand over your mouth. “Can’t fucking listen, can’t ya? Gonna have to fix that another day,” he grunts, fed up with your obstinate ways. He waits just a few more seconds, perhaps ten or twelve by his horrible counting, and he decides to just get on with taking what he wants.
He slowly pulls his cock out of your pussy, until just the tip is left inside you. The feeling is funny, but you quickly adjust to it. Suddenly, he thrusts into your cunt roughly, and he begins to fuck you. His other hand grips your waist tightly, and he knows that you’re going to have the prettiest bruises when he’s done with you. “Fuck,” he groans, and he watches as he slides in and out of you effortlessly. His cock is coated in your wetness, and he can’t wait until he’s covered in your cum. You’re wailing loudly behind his hand, except no tears are leaking from your eyes.
A mixture of pain and pleasure is what you’re feeling. “Good girl, good fucking girl. Take it, take my cock like the whore you are,” he spits, biting down on his wet bottom lip to keep himself from spewing even more profanities. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills both of your ears, but you’re just focusing on the way he feels so good inside you. It’s better than having his fingers inside you, so much better. The tip of his cock finds your sweet spot, and he pounds against it mercilessly. You clench down on him from the feeling, but you’re only really adding fuel to the hot fire that burns inside him.
“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” you moan, though your words are muffled, and he can barely hear you. His cock drives in and out of you quickly and harshly, just how he likes it. His paws hold you like you’re a toy, and he doesn’t care for the way you’re struggling to catch your breath. Each time his cock is shoved back into your sweet pussy, you feel like the wind is being knocked out of you. Drool leaks from your mouth, and it stains his palm like how your wetness stains his cock. “Best pussy I’ve ever fuckin’ had, I swear. Look atcha, eyes rollin’ back in yer head like you’re fuckin’ possessed or somethin’ like that,” Lee snickers, slowing down his thrusts.
His cock doesn’t pound into you as roughly as it should be, and your body is disappointed. You press your chest further against the shed, and you push your ass backwards. You try your hardest to get him to continue, and you’re not sure why, but you’re desperate. Lee lets out a wicked laugh, and he admires the way you’ve turned into his slut in the matter of half an hour. He shallowly plunges upwards, and he lets his cock kiss your g-spot so very lightly that it makes your legs quiver. “You want it so badly, don’t you? Bet your father would go insane if he knew about what I’m doing to you.
Both of your chests rise and fall, and you’re also glistening with sweat. Lee’s movements have ceased, and his lower body is still. “Look at us, just being the best of friends. Do you like this, baby? Well, I know you ain’t gotta answer because I can see how much you love my cock being inside this lovely pussy. It belongs to me now, okay? All of you belong to me. I'm gonna do something, and you better not complain or fight me. But you’re my good little girl, so I know you’ll listen to me,” Lee hums, and you sigh from behind the muzzle that is his hand.
The veins on his cock throb inside you, and you can feel it. You’re hugging him so nicely, just as snug as a sleeve. He removes his paw from your mouth, and you take a deep breath. “Nice, right? Now, I want you to make some pretty noises. Say my name as much as you can. I want to hear it all,” he requests gently, though it’s more like a demand. You nod your head obediently, and you’ve got a smile on your face. Lee fights the urge to pinch your cheeks because he just finds you to be oh so adorable.
The cutest he’s ever had in his hands (and on his cock).
He starts to use you like a ten-cent whore once again, only this time he’s more considerate of you than before. That strange tightening inside you comes back, and you’re nervous. The grip Lee has on you is brutal, absolutely brutal. It hurts so badly, but it’s not enough to wash out the lovely pleasure you’re feeling. You feel like fireworks are being set off on your each and every nerve—sparking up, flying off, and then exploding—and it’s hard to admit that you love the feeling just like how Lee loves his alcohol.
“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this? Ever since I saw you move in, I knew I had to turn you into my fuck toy. And look at yourself now, getting fucked outside of a church when you’re supposed to be a good li’l girl,” he whispers in your ear, and you let out a gasp. Your jaw falls slack, and with one specifically harsh thrust, your eyes fall back into your head. Lee laughs at this dumb look on your face, but his cheerfulness dies down as soon as you clench around his cock tightly.
A moan leaves his mouth, and it has you whimpering. “C- Could barely hold back anymore. Y’know, I had a nice plan, too? We was gonna go to some nice motel, one up by Brewer Heights or some overripe place like that. Maybe I would’ve taken you on a date, but I don’t think your parents would’ve been too fond of knowing that I’d be the first and last man to stuff this pussy full of cock and cum,” he chuckles, almost like some movie villain who is revealing their mastermind plan.
You don’t understand some of the things he’s saying, why wouldn’t your parents be fond of him?
Your eyebrows knit in confusion, and he marvels at how braindead you are. “Goddamn, baby. Really are going stupid ‘cause of my cock, aren’t ya? You’re definitely a keeper, never letting you out of my sights until I get a ring on that finger,” Lee ponders out loud, and your heart jumps at the thought of marrying him. Your Mother has always said it’s better to marry a friend rather than a foe or a stranger. Lee is your friend; he’s your best friend. It would work out well. You know it would. “W- Want that so badly, Daddy. I wanna be yours,” you hazily mumble to him.
“Well, I got a really nice way to make you mine,” Lee informs you, shallowly and sloppily thrusting his hips. He feels his balls tightening up, and he knows he’s just as close as you are. “I’m gonna fill you up with my cum; I’m going to stuff you full with it. And I’ll even watch it leak out too. Everybody will watch it leak from this messy pussy a’ yours,” he husks, and he begins to bring you closer to him. You meet him up at each thrust, and every part of your body is sensitive. “D- Daddy, it’s happening again! I- I don’t think I can do it,” you worryingly tell him, even though your pussy is desperately gripping onto his thick cock.
Lee ignores your words, and he continues to fuck you. Your moans grow louder and louder, making you sound like the slut you are. “Come for me, baby, come all over my cock. Do it, now,” he orders, and your body complies. Your pussy convulses around him, fluttering from pleasure, and you wail from the overwhelming sensation. “Daddy!” you cry out to him, and he hushes you as he hits his own climax. As your juices coat his cock, white ropes of cum shot from his tip and paint your walls. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he groans, resting his head against your slightly sticky shoulder.
He looks downwards, and Lee watches as your fluids mix with each other. His movements halt, and the Sheriff sighs with satisfaction. There’s a slight tinge of blood that colours his cock, but he pays no mind to it. He pulls his softening member out of you and quickly drags your panties up your legs. “Put yer skirt back down. You’re okay. You did a good job, baby. I’m proud of ya,” he admits with a meek smile on his face. “Heh, thank you, Daddy!” you cheer, even though you’re exhausted and in pain. He places himself back in his boxers, and he dresses back up.
You turn around, and lean against the shed that you’ve grown fond of. Lee hoops his belt back together, and he reaches into his pocket. You watch his carefully, feeling his cum leak out of your pussy. It stains your panties, and you squeeze your thighs together to stop it from dripping down to your legs. Lee pulls out a can of gin, and he unscrews the cap of it. He takes a swift swig from it, and you watch as he puckers his face up from the taste. His eyes catch yours, and he stares at you for a bit.
You give him a soft grin, and he squeezes his left hand into a fist. Lee pulls the container away from his mouth, and he disappointingly shakes his head. Before you can even ask him anything, he throws the gin to the side like it means nothing to him anymore. “Is everything okay?” you question, innocently tilting your head as if you didn’t just get your pussy pounded by him. “Yeah, just tryin’ to be holy or whatever it is,” he lies, before deciding to walk off without you. You quickly follow him, not knowing what else to do without him. You’re helpless, and you don’t choose him like how he chose you, you’ll be blown in the wind as you once were.
But you should know he’ll never trade your body for a can of gin. No, not when you’ve got him all over you.
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(Decided to move all my 2021 reads to another post since the last one was getting too damn long)
Am lowkey nervous when I see my scroll bar getting smaller and smaller with each fic I add to my personal table of contents LMAO (tumblr, please don’t crash on me now!) Recs 3 is a compilation of all the fics I’ve reblogged for 2021 (I won't even attempt to include next year's reads/finds here bc that's going to be too long). You may also notice that there are some works that not here anymore - I removed them since they’re "non-existent" according to Tumblr.
Created this to not only share the wonderful works made by these amazing authors, be it the simplest of their works, but because I also do a lot of rereading of my faves so it’s a win-win! Newly added works and authors will be tagged while previously added works and authors will be linked because the tags and this post itself shows an error when saving (because it’s already the longest allowed or because I may be at a limit of a post?) If works are made by the same author, I can only tag 1 and link the others so tumblr can still allow me to tag others.
All works linked here are completed unless stated otherwise or I wasn’t aware that it is in progress. All fics are arranged alphabetically because I like it neat that way lmao
ATTN: Minors, heed the warnings on each fic. YOU are responsible for what you consume on this website. DON’T let the warnings go over your heads!
This blog reblogs 18+ content. This fic rec contains 18+ content.
Title - Author/Writer
Work and/or blog with strikethrough means that it cannot be found or has deactivated (I think one of the reason for this is “The Great Tumblr Purge”) :(
X means untitled work, unless I was not aware that there was a title (please message me to correct it!)
Please feel free to correct me if you see any errors or blogs that changed their URLs so I can update this, and to the authors, thank you! <3 (also I feel like I’ve basically recommended your whole masterlist lol!)
Originally posted: 25 May 2021 | Updated: 4 September 2021
Please let me know if the links aren’t clickable so I can fix ‘em! ^.^
03:35 - buckystarlight
5:32 AM - @buckyhoney
107 - @/barnessupremacy yelanasbelova(New URL, masterlist under works)
A Kiss of Wine - jobean12-blog
A Helping Paw - river-soul
A Mutually Assured Attachment - cacoetheswriting
Adore You - cupidsbarnes
Always You, Forever - pellucid-constellations
Amnesia - sergeantbuckybarnes
Among the Layers - @starsvck
Breathin - mischiefmanaged71
Brighter Than the Sun - gigglygiddybarnes
Buzz-cut Szn - whirlybirbs
Can I Steal Your Fries? - untiltheendoftime
Citrus, Miniature Sun - babycap
Click - constantwriter85
Codename: Last Resort - lovelyavengers
Cool - itsapeterthing
Cracking More Than a Smile - buckys-blue-eyes
Crawl Home to Her - nexusnyx
Dares & Coffee Dates - @moonstruckbucky
Divine Retribution - pellucid-constellations
Drawn to Love - @jobean12-blog
Dream a Little Dream of Me - blissfullybarnes
Drunk - @coffeecatsandcandles
Don’t Look Back - belowva
Doodle Hearts - jobean12-blog
Drunk on You - wkemeup
Fairground - softlybarnes
Falling For You - itsapeterthing
Favourite Person - @parkersdoll
First Name Basis - baroquebucky
Flirtin’ - wannabeschyulersister
Greatest Neighbor - @maybepointlessthoughts
Happy Birthday - theimpossibleg1rl
Heal - statticscribbles
Here to Help - itsjustmelainey
Hey Doll - allydrabbles
Hide & Seek - angrythingstarlight
Hideouts - xbuchananbarnes
History - bitchassbucky
Home Comfort - justatirednightowl
House Warming - imagines-hoarder
Housesitting - emwritesstuff
I Can Save You This Time - pellucid-constellations
I See You - @constantwriter85
It was Only a Kiss - navybrat817
I've Got You - starks-hero
Jamaican Me Crazy - moonstruckbucky
Lavender, Yellow & You - loveaffaire
Lay Here With Me - all1e23
Life Before You - world-of-aus
Lights - @barnestuff
Looney Tunes - 19ana45
Marriage Story - sunmoonandbucky
Meet Cute - spilledkauffie
Midnight Aid - greekgodwannabe
Never Again - houseravenclaws
Nice to Meet You - itsapeterthing
Peace - scarlvtbitch
Pear Conditioner and Scary Movies - wasianhermione
Please Notice - nexusnyx
Plum - creme-bruhlee
Pretty Boy - gogolucky13
Purgatory - wkemeup
Right Here Waiting - celestialbarnes
Safe - @barnestuff
Safe Place to Land - sunlightdances
Shadow - @bubblebuckys
Secret Girlfriend - buckyhoney-library
Singing in the Rain - bucky-bucket-barnes
Stay - barnestuff
Staying Past Dawn - puffberries
Suburbia - wkemeup
Swinging - the-wintershade
Tag! You’re It - jobean12-blog
Tap - houseravenclaws
Tell Me Something Good - navybrat817
Thanks for the Memories - sunmoonandbucky
The Barnes’ Are Still Loud - jbarness
The L Word - @babyboibucky
The Mess I Made - wkemeup
The Midnight Coconuts - bitsandbobsandstuff
The Night Shift - @cjsinkythoughts
The Offer - wkemeup
The Only Kindness - wkemeup
The Power We Hold - thestarssalign
The Right Partner - bucky-bucket-barnes
The Shot Heard Round the Tower - pellucid-constellations
These Hands are Meant to Hold - vanderlustwords
They Know - sparklefics
Three’s a Crowd - itsapeterthing
Throw Back your head laughing like a little kid - honeyhargreeves
To the Rescue - lovelyavengers
Undercover - buckysknifecollection
Understudy - @wkemeup
What Would you Give for Love - @buckystarlight
Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of - msmarvelwrites
Where I Belong - constantwriter85
Who’s She? - itsapeterthing
Winter Solstice - writersbuck
Voicemails to an Unmanned Inbox - pellucid-constellations
You’re the Best Book I Ever Read - mickey-henry
Your Protector - buckys-broody-muffin
Your Touch - marvelettesassemblenow
X - avenging-fandoms
X - baroquebucky
X - bemine-bucky
X - bemine-bucky
X - bemine-bucky
X - buckyblues
X - buckysknifecollection
X - gogolucky13
X - thefanbasewhore
X - modern-vellichor
X - modern-vellichor
X - sunlightdances
X - thefanbasewhore
X - wkemeup
X - wkemeup
#Bittercoffee - whirlybirbs (ongoing?)
A Half Naked Nurse and Wrong Ideas - urimaginespimp
As You Wish, Ma’am - aescapisms
Baby Fever - barnxsromanxff
Baby Fever | Little Beginnings | Mini You | Dance With Me - youlightmeupfinn
Bingo | Game Night - spilledkauffie
Bucky x Pregnant Reader - spilledkauffie
Everybody Loves Somebody - ladylibby
Flashing Lights - pellucid-constellations (ongoing?)
I’ll Take Care of It - touchstarvedirl
Ignoti Nulla Cupido - persephonesinfernos (ongoing)
No Control | Flight Risk - wkemeup
Stay Still - @buckysknifecollection
The Holiday Hack - gogolucky13
TFATWS Series - cjsinkythoughts
We’re Fools - achillieus
Weird Way of Flirting - buckysknifecollection
Actors on Actors - youlightmeupfinn
Papa - chanelfaerie nakedrogers (URL change)
Prună - chanelfaerie nakedrogers (URL change)
Thirst Tweets - nev3rfound
This section contains 18+ content as warned by the writers on their posts.
Minors, get out.
3:1 - nialls-flute
Again - theimpossibleg1rl
All Shook Up - jobean12-blog
Baby Fever - jurassicbarnes
Best Man - navybrat817
Break Lights - boxofbonesfic
Burya - constantwriter85
Can’t Keep My Hands to Myself - angrythingstarlight
Caring for Bucky - angrythingstarlight
Chase Away the Nightmares - angrythingstarlight
Cockblocked - @borkingbarnes
Come as You Are - @gogolucky13
Cool You Down, Heat You Up - angrythingstarlight
Dead of Night - bucksfucks
Destroy - @navybrat817
Don’t Fear the Reaper - gogolucky13
Don’t Flatter Yourself, Doll - tricksters-captain
Dream a Little Dream of Me - sugardaddytonystark
Ever Since - syntheticavenger
First and Last - navybrat817
Forbidden Fruit - bucksfucks
Fruitful - bubblebuckys
Heat Waves - @bucksfucks
Hurricane - syntheticavenger
I’m begging for you (Take my hand) - cupidsbarnes
In Two Years - starbuckie
Intentional - buckycuddlebuddy
Interrupted - sxbby-barnes
Just One Taste - angrythingstarlight
Let Me Give You a Hand - angrythingstarlight
Like It Rough - navybrat817
Mean It - gogolucky13
Midnight Delight - bucksfucks
Night and Day - navybrat817
On Eve of Destruction - threeminutesoflife
Partition - angrythingstarlight
Peaches and Cream - river-soul
Please - buckybarnesdiaries
Pour Some Sugar on Me - buckycuddlebuddy
Sexual Healing - gogolucky13
Stolen Comforts - bonkywobble
Sweaty - coffeecatsandcandles
The Staring Contest - jobean12-blog
The Wedding Date - river-soul
Vowel sin Marble - pellucid-constellations
Wine & Dine - @/witchysoldier (deactivated)
X - angrythingstarlight
X - angrythingstarlight
X - angrythingstarlight
X - angrythingstarlight
X - angrythingstarlight
X - angrythingstarlight
X - navybrat817
X - sableseb
A Tender Heart - @river-soul (ongoing)
All That’s Best of Dark and Bright - ursulaismymiddlename
Burn the Witch - @dreamwritesimagines
Deadweight - loving-bucky-is-easier
Fake Boyfriend Real Orgasms - bucksfucks (ongoing)
H.C.M.C. - lokithealligator
Just Friends | Rollercoasters - writingcroissant
Let Me Come Home - buckysho
Lost | Found - @sunshinebuckybarnes
Love, Honor, and Obey - constantwriter85
Peaches - buckycuddlebuddy
Play Pretend - wkemeup
Project V - babyboibucky (ongoing)
Rescue Me - constantwriter85
Sanctioned - imaginedreamwrite (ongoing)
Something More - tellmealovestory
Stark Hub - world-of-aus (guuurl I kennat)
Swallow - @all1e23
Sweet as Cinnamon Sugar - propertyofpoeandbucky
The Barnes’ AU - agentofbarnes
The Coupon Book - tuiccim
The Match - babyboibucky (ongoing)
The Unseen One - extremelyblackandwhite
To be a god or a hero - @spiderbitchspiderbitch
Unbroken - constantwriter85 (this satisfied my whump cravings)
Vacant Mirrors - @whirlybirbs
Water Over the Dam - constantwriter85
Wide Awake and Still Dreaming | Red Cherry Lips - syntheticavenger
1K notes · View notes
Can we all just appreciate Sebastian Stan ￼right now
1K notes · View notes
pairing: sebastian stan x reader
summary: sebastian talks about you a lot during a press interview, and everyone notices he’s head over heels for you.
word count: 2k
You walked into your house, dropping the groceries off in the kitchen. “Cooper, I’m home” you yelled out.
Your large golden retriever came trotting into the room. His tail instantly started to wag when he saw you. He nearly knocked you over. You bent down to pet him and give him a treat.
“Who’s a good boy?” You asked, as you continued to scratch his side.
You slipped your shoes off and walked into the living room, the big dog following you happily. He jumped up on the couch and laid down next to you.
You pulled your phone out and saw you had received a lot of notifications. Your social media was blowing up more than usual, and you had revived handfuls of text messages from some of your Marvel costars.
You decided to check your text messages first.
There was one from Chris Evans.
Hey Y/N, have you seen the interview yet? I hope you aren’t too freaked out, just let him explain first
Have you seen this interview? Everyone is blowing up talking about it. I know you like him, so please just talk to him!!
And of course Anthony.
I know you’ve probably seen that interview by now, but hopefully now you know that he likes you. I was there when we filmed that, and he was so nervous to afterwards. So just don’t give him a hard time. He lights up every time he talks about you. Also, I bet Chris twenty bucks that you two would get together because of this. No pressure
You could not have been more confused. You had no idea what interview they were all talking about.
Scarlett had sent you the link to the interview so you opened it on YouTube. It was press interview with Anthony and Sebastian for the new show. Scarlett knew that you liked Sebastian, so you were worried about what he said during the interview.
Why was everyone making such a big deal over this interview?
You pressed play and as soon as you saw Sebastian’s face, you felt a smile rise on your face.
“Do either of you have a favorite Marvel costar other than each other?” The interviewer asked.
“Mine is definitely Y/N. We both got cast around the same time. We met at a table read for one of the scripts and we got along really well. We’ve just become really good friends throughout all of this” he said, honestly.
You had a fluttering feeling in your stomach as the heat rushed to your cheeks. “Plus she’s hot” Anthony muttered, smirking. You giggled.
Anthony was the unofficial hype man of all the Marvel cast mates. He was always complimenting one of your cast mates at the premieres. He was that friend and he loved to boost his friends up.
“No no no, that’s not it. I mean...she is, but we’re actually friends I promise” Sebastian quickly said. You noticed how flustered he got and how embarrassed he looked.
“See I was going to say I couldn’t pick anyone other than Sebastian, but clearly he doesn’t want to be my best friend. So I’ll pick Chris Evans. He appreciates me” Anthony joked.
Everything seemed pretty normal until the host introduced a game. It was called America Ass-emble.
You giggled at the title and watched as they began to play the game. They were shown pictures of different cast members’ butts and they had to guess who they belonged to.
You couldn’t help but laugh as they both got most of them wrong. Then another picture came up. You instantly knew it was of you.
You feel the heat rush to your cheeks. “Oh that’s Y/N” Sebastian said, without a second thought. It threw you off guard. Why did he know it so fast?
“Oh uh...that is correct” the interviewer said, also shocked at the speed.
“I’m sorry. Did I answer that way too fast?” Sebastian asked, starting to blush.
You could feel the butterflies starting to flutter in your stomach. Were you supposed to take it as a compliment or an insult?
“We know what Sebastian’s been looking at on set” Anthony said, smirking. It made your heart speed up. You felt embarrassed and they weren’t even in the room with you.
“Alright, moving on. Can you let us know about any deleted scenes that didn’t make it into the show?” The interviewer asked.
“Yeah, they cut my nude scene. I did a fight completely nude, but they didn’t end up keeping it” Anthony joked.
A laugh slipped through your lips. Sebastian looked like he was thinking about his answer.
“There wasn’t anything major that we cut for this show, but there was something we cut in Infinity War with my character. My character and Y/N’s character were actually supposed to have an on-screen romance. They ended up cutting it though” Sebastian answered.
You remembered back to that. You had been so giddy that they had wrote that in the script. You were so excited for Sebastian to act like your boyfriend, even though it wasn’t real.
You had been so disappointed when they ended up cutting it. You never even got to film those scenes.
Your character's name was Blaze and she could control fire and lava. In the original plot, she ended up seeking refuge in Wakanda where she met Bucky.
“Really? That’s surprising. Online, there has recently been some shipping between the Falcon and Blaze” the interviewer mentioned.
“Take that Bucky. The Falcon gets all the ladies” Anthony teased.
There a twinge of what looked like jealousy in Sebastian’s eyes. You almost thought you imagined it.
“No no no. Y/N is mine” he said, possessively. You couldn’t help but feel warm inside as he talked about you.
You noticed the interviewer start to chuckle as the two bickered.
“I was talking about her character, but if you want Y/N, you can have her. I see how it is” Anthony teased. You felt your heart break for Sebastian. He looked so embarrassed and he tried to play it off.
Sebastian was one of your closest friends and you knew he was super reserved. You couldn’t help but feel bad for him.
The interviewer continued to ask them questions and you continued to listen.
“Alright let’s test a theory I have. I want to know who is better friends with Chris Evans. So, you both are going to text him, and we’ll see which one of you he responds to first” the interviewer said.
You started to giggle. Anthony and Sebastian were insanely competitive.
“Wait let’s raise the stakes. Let’s make it interesting” Anthony said, smirking.
Sebastian’s eyes went wide and he put his head in his hands. “Oh god” he muttered, under his breath.
“Is a bet going down?” The interviewer asked and Anthony nodded his head.
“You pick the stakes man” Anthony told him. The interviewer thought for a second, trying to make it interesting.
“If Sebastian wins, Anthony has to stop begging to sleep on his couch. If Anthony wins, Sebastian has to call Y/N and ask her out because clearly something is going on” the interviewer said, laughing to himself.
Anthony started dying of laughter. “You are going down” Anthony said.
You could see how red Sebastian’s face was and you just wanted to give him a hug. He looked mortified.
They did the competition. Chris texted Anthony first.
“You have to do it” Anthony yelled, claiming victory.
“Alright fine. I promise, at some point I’ll do it” Sebastian said, fiddling with his thumbs. The interviewer gave an outro and said goodbye to both of them.
Now you understood why all your friends had been texting you.
Sebastian liked you.
You had hoped this day would come for years, but now that it was here, you didn’t know what to do. You felt too stunned to even do anything.
You just sat there for what felt like hours. Your entire world was just flipped upside down. This could be either amazing or horrible.
Then, your phone started to ring. You looked down and saw that Sebastian was calling you. He must have known that that interview had finally come out.
You wanted to answer the phone. You wanted to tell him that you liked him too, but you couldn’t. You were too terrified to make your hands move.
He called you a few more times in the next three hours and you still couldn’t make the move to pick up the phone.
What if he didn’t actually like you? You couldn’t stop the millions of what-if questions in your head.
Then, you heard a knock at the door, and you got up to answer it. You saw Sebastian standing there looking worried.
“Hi” you said, softly. You didn’t know what else to say to him. You were afraid you would embarrass yourself.
“I’m assuming you’ve seen it because you’ve been avoiding my calls” he said, and your heart broke for him. He sounded so hurt and you were responsible for that.
You took a deep breath. “I just don’t know what to say” you said, simply.
“Do you like me or not? Because I figured you might have and that was the only reason I was that vulnerable” he told you, while his voice broke.
You ran your fingers though your hair. You looked into his eyes and you just saw confusion. “Of course I like you. I have since we met. I just didn’t know how to tell you. I was worried that you didn’t actually have feelings for me” you told him, playing with the rings on your fingers.
He grabbed your hands and stilled them. “I really care about you, Y/N. I want to give this a try, but only if you do too” he said, looking hopefully into your eyes.
You nodded, and squeezed his hands. “I want to try too” you said, simply. You saw relief wash over his face and he stepped closer to you. His hands moved to sit on your hips.
“I am so glad you said that because now I can do this” he said, as he connected your lips.
It was perfect. After all this time, you finally got your happy ending.
Your arms slid around his neck and pulled him closer to you. You could feel him smile as he kissed you.
You both pulled away and leaned your forehead against his. “Thank god for that interview” you said, smiling. He chuckled under his breath and kissed your nose.
You pulled him inside and over to the couch. You sat down next to him and cuddled into his side. He smiled and put his arm around your shoulders.
“How about I make us dinner tonight and we can watch a movie?” He asked you, looking down into your eyes.
You shrugged your shoulders. “Depends. Are you any good of a cook?” You teased. He frowned. “I am going to make you the best meal of your life” he said, kissing your cheek.
You grabbed your phone and quickly took a selfie as he kissed your cheek. He just chuckled, knowing exactly what you were doing. You sent the photo to Anthony with the comment “Tell Chris he owes you twenty bucks;)”
“God you’re perfect” Sebastian said, pulling you into his lap. You smiled and kissed him lightly.
“So apparently you’ve been staring at my ass a lot” you said, raising your eyebrows.
He immediately blushed and looked away from you. Then, his flustered expression gained some confidence.
He leaned in closer to you. “Don’t pretend that I haven’t seen you checking me out on set” he whispered, and your felt your cheeks heat up.
“Yeah that’s right, I’ve seen you” he said, pulling you in for another kiss. You kissed him back and he pushed you under him on the couch.
You both ended up making dinner with each other and then cuddling while you watched a movie. There was lots of small kisses throughout the night.
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Pocket Problems - B. Barnes Blurb
NOTE: a stupid concept with an adorable outcome, pls enjoy
TAGLIST: @poetic-heart @hallecarey1 @moonlightbaby10 @5-seconds-of-bucky @bbl32 @wobblymug @iwannabekilledtwice @golden-hoax @barnes-lokison
SUMMARY: who do you turn to when none of your pockets work?
You huffed in frustration after digging your nail into the curved seam of one of your jean “pockets”, finding that it was sewn shut. Perhaps you would be less aggravated if moments before, you didn’t find the same issue occurring with your jacket--which turned out to be without pockets completely.
“Unbelievable,” you mutter, attempting to keep up with Sam and Bucky’s long strides. Bucky’s ears perk up at your growl, and it beckons his eyes to connect with yours. As he asks you, “what’s the matter, doll?” his cerulean eyes flood with concern. The mission had barely begun and--while you weren’t the clumsiest person to walk the earth--the man in front of you assumed you had already been injured in some way.
“No pockets.” You grumble, attempting to find any comfortable position to balance your phone and the several weapons you left the quinjet with. Your invitation to join the two men had been last minute, to say the least. You assured yourself, however, that storing your gear in your uniform would be no trouble. Call it poor pre-planning or even bad luck--whatever it was, it was coming to bite you in the ass.
“Here, we can put em’ in mine.” Bucky was about to stretch his hand out in order to take your belongings and stow them away himself. Seconds later, he is stiffening at your small word of thanks and the feeling of your phone sliding into his back pocket, over his tush, and your cold hands reaching for the interior pockets of his leather jacket to carefully hide your knife and gun. It sent shivers through his bones, and had his heart preforming somersaults, despite your fingertips not even grazing his skin.
“You better not lose that.” You warn with a pat against the once-empty pocket, now keeping your sharp dagger secure. “It’s my favorite.” Bucky only chuckles, a smirk lining his lips. The two of you knew very well if anybody were to lose it, it would most likely be you, the owner. Sam shoots Bucky an incredulous look, studying his generosity towards you. All at once, his movements turned slower, and the plethora of items collecting in his suit and trousers felt much heavier than usual.
“I’ve got a few things you could take off my hands--” The man has no opportunity to finish though, for his coworker, who was going as far as to carry you--with your arms draped around his vibranium limb and head against his metal bicep--begins hissing judgementally in his direction.
“Don't be lazy, Sam. Carry your own shit.”
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: fluff, a little bit of smut at the end, talks of condoms, shy bucky, nerdy bucky, mention of Bucky’s cock and erections
Word count: 1217
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It was a warm sunny day, you, and Bucky where currently in your shared apartment. You were in the bedroom sorting out your wardrobe while Bucky was laying down on your shared bed, talking about the mission he just finished for work.
“And then Sam blasted the last HYDRA agent. He’s now back at the compound for questioning.” He finished, with a little wavier in his voice. You knew how hard HYDRA missions were for him, you expressed your concerns countless times and each time he’d tell you that he was okay, that he can do it. But every time he came home, you could see that each mission took a piece of him.
You finished hanging the last item of clothing and closed the wardrobe doors.
“Are you sure you’re okay though?” you questioned with concern in your voice, and a frown on your face.
“I’m... I’m doing better.” He breathed, truthfully. Making you release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.
“Now, how about a little fun time.” Bucky smirked, leaning in to kiss you but you pulled back.
“Oh no you don’t, big guy. If you want fun time, you need to pop down to the store and grab some more condoms.” You chuckled, as his face drained colour.
“H-how will I know what to get?” he stuttered so quietly you didn’t even notice.
“You know what size you are, babe. Just grab and go.” You softly smiled at him and walked out of the bedroom, leaving Bucky to his thoughts.
Bucky stayed on the bed for a few minutes, trying to sike himself up.
He’d never been to the store to grab condoms; they were so different from what he was used to in 40’s. It was usually you grabbing them when you went shopping, but you must have forgot this time.
He slipped on his shoes, not bothering to change out of his comfy sweats he was wearing and grabbed his wallet from the bedside cabinet.
Walking out of the bedroom, he made his way to the kitchen where you were pottering about.
“I’ll be back, doll. Love you.” He reached down to kiss you goodbye.
“See you soon, love you baby.” You kissed him back, not sensing his nerves and he was on his way.
It didn’t take Bucky long to reach the store.
He walked in, nodded politely at the little old lady behind the register as she said her hellos and made his way to the condom section.
Bucky’s eyes scanned the entire stock.
He’d never seen so many brands, styles, or colours of condoms before.
Getting more confused by the minute, he remembered what you told him. “You know what size you are, just grab and go.”
So, that’s what he did.
He grabbed a box, not even looking at the size or brand and went to the till.
As Bucky stood there, he tried to cover his face with his long hair to hide the blushing mess he had become. The little old lady didn’t even bat an eye. For that, Bucky was thankful.
She scanned the box, telling Bucky the total so he can pay and be on his way.
He shoved the box into his pocket and made a brisk walk home, so he could hide forever.
When Bucky walked into your shared apartment, you were sitting on the couch in the living room with a book in hand and a fresh cup of tea steaming away on the coffee table.
He pulled out the box and dropped it on the table making you jump as he walked away.
You put your book down and grabbed the box and saw the size he got.
You stood up with the box in hand and went to your shared bedroom.
“Baby?” you called opening in the door to see Bucky sitting on the end looking more confused than ever.
“There was so many. I was so confused.” He started and turned to look at you, “why is there so many?”
“I don’t know, baby. People just like variety, I guess.” You shrugged softly and sat down beside him.
“I got the wrong size, didn’t I?” he sighed and rubbed his face with his hands and groaned, causing you to giggle softly.
“Hey, its okay. Let me grab my shoes and we’ll go together.” You kissed his cheek and got up off the bed to grab your shoes.
You came back with your shoes on as Bucky stood up and grabbed your hand, linking his fingers with yours as you both made your way back to the store.
When you both got to the store, you waved hello to the lady behind the till and made your way, with Bucky in hand, to the condom section again.
Looking at Bucky’s face filled with confusion, you explain what the types were, what sizes they had and what colours and flavours they came in.
He was still a little embarrassed but asked a couple of questions which you were happy to answer to the best of your knowledge.
When you were both finished, you grabbed his size (king size) and went back to the lady at the till to pay.
Once you were finished, you put the box in your pocket and Bucky grabbed your hand linking his fingers again as you walked home.
It didn’t take long for Bucky to rip your clothes off when you got home and use up the entire box you purchased.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A FEW WEEKS LATER ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It had been 3 weeks since the whole condom mishap with Bucky. During those 3 weeks, Bucky’s confidence in getting condoms had rocketed.
Every day you came home from work, or when he came home from a mission, he’d always had a new box for you both to try out.
You didn’t complain, you loved it.
Although you had so many boxes, Sam and Steve thought you were selling them. When you had to explain Bucky’s obsession with different condom types, they were sorry they asked.
It wasn’t until one night; you had gotten in from work and made your way to the bedroom you knew Bucky would be.
What you didn’t expect, is to find the lights off and standing in the middle of the room, sporting a glow in the dark condom on his erected cock, was Bucky.
“Hey, doll. Check out my light saber.” You couldn’t see him, but you could sense he was grinning.
He leant forward and pressed a button on his phone. The sound that came out, is what made you die along with watching Bucky swing his erection around to the light saber effect.
When you calmed down with your laughter, Bucky stalked towards you and picked you up, chucking you on the bed and within seconds you were naked.
He flipped you onto your stomach, so your ass was in the air as he lent forward to whisper in your ear.
“Do you think you can take my light saber pounding you?” he breathed, causing shivers to run down your spine as he slipped his cock into your dripping wet pussy causing you to squeak out a moan.
You knew when he was like his, you’d feel him in your cervix for days.
But that was always the best part about sex with Bucky.
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Listen to me… dad’s friend!Bucky + reader
Bonus points if Steve is the father of the reader jensjsks
Pairing: Dad’s bestfriend!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings/tags: mentions of sex, making out, slight hair pulling, pet names (doll), age gap (reader is 21 and Bucky is… 106), Steve cameo<3, reader calls Steve ‘daddy’ but in a normal father way, obviously🧍🏻♀️& credits to The Amazing Spider-Man for the cocoa scene (so TASM spoilers? lol)— 18+ (MINORS DNI)
Word Count: 1.3k
A/N: y’all wild, Steve is gonna beat the shit out of his old pal, Buck, if he ever found out🤠
🤍Written for my 1k sleepover🤍
You were laying on your bed and scrolling through social media when you heard your window glass sliding up, your head shot up and there he was, Bucky.
“Fuck” Bucky whispered, almost breaking the vase on your study table as he practically crawled through your window and fell on the hard floor of your room.
You giggled, eyes quickly checking for the lock on your door and making sure it was locked.
“Bucky!” You gushed, getting off the bed and walking to where Bucky was still sitting on the floor, brushing his jeans off.
“You need to tell Steve that you need a bigger, wider window” he said, slightly pouting.
“And tell him what?” You rolled your eyes, “Dad, your best friend sneaks into my room every night and it’s tough for him to get through my small window, can we please get a wider window?”
He smiled, any sign of distress leaving his face when his eyes landed on your face, “shut up”
He stood up, his 6'0" figure hovering over you as he looked down at you with a glint in his blue eyes, “come here, give me a kiss”
You instantly stood on your tiptoes to reach his lips, your lips softly pressed to his as he pulled your body closer.
You were 13 years old when you were sent to a boarding school far away from school, your parents, Steve and Natasha were too busy being Captain America and Black Widow for the country to keep you around. You were safer in the boarding school, anyway.
When you returned 5 years later, now 18 years old, you only saw Bucky once on a weekend for an Avengers get-together and then you were off to college. Three years there and then you were back home, taking a gap year for various internship opportunities.
That’s when you bumped into Bucky. Even though he's been staying in the Avengers’ compound for years, he only ever hung out with your parents or Sam or spent most of his time reading. So when you had found him in the library one day, a conversation was sparked up and since then, you were inseparable.
He was always around you, you were always around him and one day, when he got you alone in the middle of the large bookshelves in the library, he had kissed you and you happily kissed him back.
The guilt ate away at Bucky for a good few weeks, the thought of doing this to Steve made Bucky feel disgusted with himself, but every time his eyes landed on you, he couldn’t help feeling like a lovesick little boy.
So here you stood, in your bedroom, 3 months later with Bucky holding you against him with his lips on yours. It was wrong but it just didn’t feel like it, sure you had to hide from everyone but that’s what made it even more exciting.
The innocent kiss turned into something a bit more steamy as he roughly pulled you up, easily picking you up by the back of your thighs and placing you on your study table. The second he pushed between your legs with a little force, a whimper left your mouth and just then, there was a knock on your door.
You froze when you heard your father’s voice, gripping Bucky’s henley in your hands with wide eyes but as soon as you came to your senses, you quickly pushed on his shoulders and reached for the door and Bucky quickly duked down behind the loveseat.
“Honey, do you want some cocoa, mom’s making some cocoa!”
You opened the door, just enough to stick your head out. Your breath was shaky, chest heaving up and down, “no, dad, I do not want cocoa, honestly I’m 21 years old”
You father looked at you confused but the frown on his face turned into a smirk as he said, “okay, I just thought I remember somebody saying last week that her fantasy was to live in a chocolate house”
You heard a soft snicker from inside your room and your eyebrows shot up, “well, that’s impractical” you shut the door but opened it again, “and fattening,” you shut the door again.
You turned back and saw Bucky with his chin resting on the top of the loveseat, “chocolate house?” he joked, tilting his head to the side.
You rolled your eyes as you opened the door and saw your father standing there with a frown on his face once again, “sorry dad”
“It’s okay I—”
“I can’t have um cocoa right now, I’m- I’m working, I’m doing this, I’m- I have cramps!”
“Yes, I feel pukey and emotional, I’ve been crying—”
“It’s gross, I can’t have cocoa,” you gulped.
“Good good” your father shook his head, looking at the wall behind you.
“It’s brutal, you don’t wanna know” you whispered, making a gagging expression.
“Got it, that’s- I got it” your father nodded, turning around, he threw a thumbs up in the air.
“Thanks, daddy” you yelled out, shutting your door and locking it.
You rested your forehead on the door and sighed. Bucky sneaked up behind you and softly grabbed you by the waist, he kissed your exposed skin on your shoulder, his lips were warm on your skin.
“He could have caught you,” you whispered, moving away from him.
Bucky grasped your wrist, pulling you back to him and you stumbled back on his hard chest, “but he didn’t”
He leaned in, attaching his lips to yours, he softly tugged on your hair and you whimpered. As your lips fell open, he was quick to sneak his tongue inside your mouth and you moaned against his lips.
“Bucky, wait” you pulled away, shaking your head at him, “you should leave because what if dad becomes like- I don’t know- suspicious”
“But I don’t want to leave” Bucky whined like a little kid as he tugged on the hem of your tank top.
“He’ll kill you if he finds you here” you rolled your eyes at him, falling back on the bed.
“Did you know back in our days, Steve opposed 117 nations to protect me?” Bucky smirked, “he’s not gonna hurt me”
He crawled on top of you, resting his hands on either side of your shoulders. You’ve heard about the incident that broke up the Avengers a million times, Tony and your dad never stopped joking about it at the get-togethers.
“Well, back in your days, you weren’t fucking his daughter” you smirked, your eyes squinting at him.
“I haven’t fucked you” he whispered, “yet”
“It’s only been 3 months, I’ll make you wait a little more” you said, your voice smug.
“Well, I’ve still been to places… your places” he said, his voice low and filled with lust, “do you remember that time I tasted you? My pretty doll tasted so good for me—”
You pulled yourself up on your elbows, pecking his lips and shushing him. Not wanting him to see you so flushed, you rolled over with him under you now and your lips landed on his neck, you were quick to leave a pretty lovebite on him.
As you continued your work on his neck, with his head thrown back and soft moans falling out of his lips, you felt his bulge pressing between your thighs. He gripped your hips and lifted himself off the bed, desperately trying to feel you against him.
“Okay” you huffed and sat on his lap, you teased him by pushing a little harder on his bulge, “that’s enough waiting”
He quickly nodded, “3 months is a lot of waiting, yeah” his voice was shaky, neck red from the heat creeping up to his face.
“You wanna fuck me?” you whispered, nudging your face closer to his as he sat up with you still on his lap.
“So badly, doll” he said, resting his hands on your waist.
“Get to it then” you softly giggled, getting off his lap and crawling up on the bed.
You rested your back against the headboard and you removed your cotton shorts, spreading your legs wide open for Bucky to see the dampened spot on your underwear. As he looked at your face twisting in pleasure when you softly brushed your fingers over your clothed cunt, he was sure he was going to devour you tonight. He was going to absolutely wreck you.
I had to leave it at that, whatever happened after that was wild and they broke the bed so yeah🤠
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look after you (1)
TFATWS Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Sam asks you to join him and Bucky on a mission in Madripoor. When you get injured, Bucky feels the need to remind you more than once that he’s supposed to look after you now that Steve’s gone.
Warnings: tfatws spoilers, language, violence, blood, grief, angst, major pining
Word Count: 6k+
Author’s Note: Here she is!! I’m really excited to see what you guys think! This is my first Bucky fic in AGES! I decided to make this into a mini series since this fic is so long haha. Please let me know what you think. Comments, reblogs, and asks are highly encouraged and appreciated! Enjoy!
You hadn’t seen Sam or Bucky in several weeks. You were still adjusting to life post-blip. It had been a long five years for you and just seconds for them. You were no longer the bright-eyed and bushy tailed recruit. You’d grown into your position amongst the established and experienced Avengers. Now, it meant nothing.
Tony’s gone. Steve’s dead, Natasha too. The Avengers had officially disbanded. You felt lost and confused, still blinded by your grief over losing them. You had nowhere to go, so you just floated from place to place as needed.
You were laying low and a shell of the person you once were. You had no one to look towards anymore. Bucky went his separate ways and got some sort of footing in New York City with the pardon he was given by the government since his return to the states. You checked in every now and then with him, but you didn’t want to slow down his progress so you distanced yourself from him.
You know he feels some sort of responsibility towards you. Steve did too, and you suppose now that he’s gone, Bucky feels the need to take his place. It doesn’t matter that you’re no longer the naive 23 year old he met in Berlin all those years ago. It doesn’t matter that there was something lingering between the two of you before he turned to ash. You’re a grown woman now and war and politics has hardened your soul.
He needs to move on from you. The version he has of you in his head is gone, dead. He wants a fresh start, and you can’t give it to him.
Sam checks in with you once in a while. He asks you how you’re doing and you respond the same each time. “Same shit, different day,” you laughed lightly.
He knows better than to ask you to join him on his missions with the military. You’re not in the right headspace to return to the field, least of all if it meant that you were representing the US government wherever the fight was.
Now that John Walker has the shield and has been branded the new Captain America, it gives you all the more reason to stay away. If he had so much as just breathed in your direction, you’d kill him and rip the shield from his grasp and return it to Sam.
You ignored all emails and phone calls that had to do with John Walker. He wanted your blessing on live television, as if that meant anything. Yes, you were close with Steve, but you’re not an original Avenger. You just caught his eye during training one day and he took you under his wing. John Walker just wanted to create a bridge between the two of you since Sam and Bucky were obviously out of the question.
You were the first person Sam called when he told you he was giving up the shield. You didn’t ask why. You knew he had his reasons and you respected him to accept that whatever the reasons were, they were good enough.
So, when Sam called in the middle of the night, you picked up the phone without a second thought. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you sit up and fumble for the light on the nightstand beside you.
“Sam? You do realize it’s three in the morning, right?” you asked, yawning into your phone.
Sam curses in your ear and apologizes quietly. “Sorry. You would think with all this traveling, I’d remember time zones are a thing,” he laughed softly.
“What is it, Sam?”
“We’re in a bit of a tight spot. We could use your help.”
Your brows pinch together. “Who’s we, Sam?”
“Me and Barnes.”
Your heart jumps inside your throat. How the hell did Sam manage to rope Bucky into whatever he’s doing? The last you heard, Bucky wasn’t allowed to go on government missions until his therapist thought he made enough progress to do so. You know he’s nowhere near the progress he wants to be, so how is he with Sam?
“Jesus, Sam. You know he’s not in the right headspace to go on missions!” There’s a heavy pause between the two of you before you relent. “Where am I meeting you?”
“Latvia. I’ll fill you in when you get here.”
You hang up quickly and hurry out of bed. After so many years of getting up at odd hours for emergency missions and the like, you’re not surprised that Sam asked you to meet him in the middle of the night. You grab your duffle bag and stuff all your belongings back inside. You travel lightly, and now it definitely seemed to work out in your favor.
You’ve spent the last couple of weeks in a small town just outside of Helena, Montana. It’s nice and quiet and you’ve really taken the time to reflect on your life since things started going back to normal post-blip. The locals are nice and hospitable, and no one asks you about Steve, Tony, or what you thought of John Walker. You hope it had something to do with the fact that they didn’t know who you were. You certainly hoped that was the case. You’ve kept your head down and tried your best to blend in.
You go hiking quite frequently and take drives through the mountains. It’s nice and relaxing, a far cry from what you’re used to. You’ll definitely miss it, and you have second thoughts about meeting up with Sam, but you push them away. Steve abandoned you both, and you wouldn’t do that to him.
It takes you several hours to get to the closest international airport and by the time you arrive, the sun begins to rise in the distance. You hurry through the airport security and send Sam a quick update that you’re about to board your flight before you settle in your seat and fall back asleep.
You sleep through the entire flight. You blame it on your ability to sleep anywhere due to the number of missions you have under your belt. You’re wide awake when the plane lands and you’re quick to pull out your phone and send a message to Sam that you’ve made it safe and sound to Latvia.
Your legs are stiff and sore when you stand up for the first time when it’s time to leave. You pull your duffle bag from the overhead compartment and slowly make your way to the front. It takes you nearly an hour to get through customs and now you’re just anxiously waiting to see Sam.
When you see him waiting for you at the baggage claim area, you grin as your eyes meet. You hurry over to him and drop your duffle bag to the floor as he pulls you in for a hug. It’s warm and tight and it’s exactly what you need. Sam pulls away first and reaches for your bag, throwing an arm over your shoulder as you walk out of the airport to his car.
You stop walking when you notice two figures near a very fancy yellow car as you and Sam near them. Sam keeps walking and you take slow, tentative steps. You know one of the figures has to be Bucky, but Sam never mentioned a third person.
“Sam, I thought you said that it was just you and Bucky,” you said cautiously.
Sam stops in his tracks and lets out a nervous chuckle and scratches the back of his head. It makes your heart race and you swallow the lump in your throat as they begin to come into focus as they near the two of you. “Y/n, before you get angry, I just need you to know that this wasn’t my idea. Believe me when I tell you that he is the last person we would ask for help,” Sam replied as his eyes went from you to the two people approaching.
“Who is he?” you asked through gritted teeth.
“Ah! Y/n, good to know that your flight went rather smoothly. It is good to see you again.”
No. There’s no way. You must be dreaming. Hemlut Zemo is not standing right in front of you. He is in prison. He is behind bars for the crimes he committed. The two men that you're closest to wouldn’t jailbreak someone as atrocious as Zemo. There has to be an explanation. It doesn’t make sense.
“What the fuck is Zemo doing out of prison?!” you hissed, looking between Bucky and Sam, demanding an explanation.
“Y/n, honey, I can explain, just please get in the car,” Bucky pleaded, reaching out to touch your hand.
You glare at him and take a step back. “Are you out of your mind, Bucky? You break him out of jail because you need him, is that it? Do you remember what he did to you, because I certainly do!”
Bucky frowns and lets out a deep and heavy sigh. He looks over at Sam. “Did you fill her in at all?”
“No!” you shouted. “I can speak for myself, James! Someone better start talking and tell me what the hell is going on!”
“We don’t really have time for this right now,” Zemo interrupts, “we really must be going. I’m sure Sam and James can fill you in in the car.”
You glare at the Sokovian terrorist and snap at him. “Shut your mouth, Zemo.”
He raises his hands up in surrender and takes a step back. Bucky towers over you and this time you let him take your hand. He squeezes it gently and pulls you into his chest, hugging you tightly. You’re tense and fuming as he holds you.
His mouth finds the shell of your ear and despite the wave of anger flowing through your body, it sends a shiver down your spine. Bucky whispers, “I hate to say it, but Zemo’s right. We have to go. I’ll explain on the way, I promise.”
You huff childishly and turn your head away from him as he kisses your temple. “Fine. If he steps out of line, I’ll kill him.”
Bucky laughs and takes your hand and walks you to the car. “Get in line, honey. Sam and I have first dibs.”
You resist the urge to smile and Bucky opens the door for you as Sam tosses your bag in the trunk and climbs into the front seat. Bucky slides in beside you and he tells you everything.
He tells you about their first encounter with the Flag Smashers. He tells you about how the leader and a few of her followers have taken a newer version of the serum that runs through his veins. He tells you that she plans on giving the serum to more people to build an army and that you have to stop her.
It makes your heart stop. You hadn’t really been keeping tabs on the Flag Smashers. Now, looking back, you probably should have. There’s still a lot of unknown variables to account for and it looks like the boys are taking it one step at a time, and apparently it starts with a trip to Madripoor. Zemo chimes in every now and then as he drives and it makes your blood boil that you’re forced to listen to what he has to say. You hate that he has the upper hand and is keeping valuable information hostage. You want to strangle him.
After a while, Zemo pulls into a private airport. Bucky helps you out of the car and grabs your bag from the trunk as the four of you walk towards the jet just off the runway. You had no idea just how rich Zemo was. Now that he’s out of prison, for now at least, his arrogance returned back in full force in addition to his pompous attitude.
You board the plane in silence, ignoring every word coming out of the Baron’s mouth. You settle in the back of the plane and ignore Bucky’s stares as you look out the window. You’re too angry to engage in conversation. You don’t care that Zemo insults Steve’s legacy. He’s gone, dead, what do you care? Yes, you wanted Steve to be happy, but he abandoned you. He abandoned Sam and Bucky.
Zemo rambles on and on. “People like Steve become symbols, icons. Then we start to forget about their flaws. From there, cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought,” he turns to address Bucky directly. “You remember that, right? As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull?”
Silence fills the space and for a moment, you feel a reprieve. That was until Zemo mentioned the Winter Soldier.
“We can’t go into Madripoor as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.”
You immediately stand up and protest, storming to the front of the plane. “No. Absolutely not. I won’t let you use Bucky, not again. There has to be another way.”
Zemo clicks his tongue at you and shakes his head. A smug graces his features and you lung at him, wrapping your hands around his throat. “I’ll fucking kill you!”
Bucky leaps to his feet and tears you off of Zemo, dragging you to the back of the plane behind the curtains to give the two of you an illusion of privacy. Your shoulders shake with rage and Bucky’s hands caress your face.
“You can’t be him. He’s not you anymore. You don’t have to do this, Bucky. Please,” you begged, clinging to his hands. “I can’t let Zemo control you again.”
Bucky’s touched with how protective you are over him. He pulls you closer and hugs you tightly against him. Your fingers grip the back of his shirt and he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head.
“Honey,” he whispered. “I have to. I have to do this so we can stop the Flag Smashers from getting the serum. It’s for the mission.”
You huffed against his chest. Now you’re really regretting your decision to help Sam. You would’ve said no if you had known that it meant watching Bucky turn into the Winter Soldier again, even if it wasn’t real.
You don’t know what to say. He won’t change his mind. Bucky’s just as stubborn as you are and he’ll do anything for the success of the mission, just like Steve did.
You pull away and return back to your seat, crossing your arms over your chest as you stare into the back of Zemo’s plush leather seat. Bucky trails behind you and squeezes your shoulder. You shrug off his touch as he takes the empty seat next to yours.
“And, I’m afraid that where we’re going doesn’t take too kindly to women who are…. how do I put this…. strong willed,” Zemo said.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Bucky barked, jumping to your defense just moments after you did the same for him.
“Selby will see Y/n as competition. We can’t have that happen. She’ll have to stay behind.”
“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m just going to just sit here and do nothing,” you snapped. “I’m coming with. I don’t care if I have to pretend to be meek.”
Zemo turns to look at you. He’s challenging you. You both know it. He’s pushing your buttons and it’s working. He smirks and leans against the armchair. His eyebrows raise and he asks, “Even if it means pretending to be a prostitute?”
Your gaze doesn’t falter and you ignore both Sam’s and Bucky’s protests. It falls on deaf ears. You don’t care, as long as you’re with Sam and Bucky and they’re safe. “Yes,” you answered without a second thought. You’ve done worse things than pretend to be a sex worker. It would be a piece of cake.
Zemo grins, letting out a soft laugh. “It looks like you’ll be joining us after all then, Y/n.”
You scoff at him and look out the window. Bucky drags you from your seat once more and pulls you behind the curtain. You look away from him and he reaches to squeeze your hand.
“You don’t have to do this. You have nothing to prove,” he whispered, brushing the top of your palm with his warm and calloused fingers.
“You don’t either,” you mumbled back.
He smiles softly at your retort and pulls you into his arms. He holds you gently and cards his fingers through your hair. You hum quietly as he holds you.
There’s a beat of silence between the two of you before you lean back to meet his gaze. His blue eyes pierce through yours and it makes your heart race. You pull away and rub your palms against your thighs.
You disappear behind the curtain once more, leaving Bucky behind.
When you arrive in Madripoor, you’re dressed in an outfit that leaves little to the imagination. The dress has a plunging neckline that settles just below your naval. Your chest is barely covered and your boobs threaten to slip over the fabric. You’re dressed for the part, that’s for sure.
Zemo is the first one to look at you when you return from behind the curtain. He whistles at you and it makes your skin crawl.
Bucky shoves Zemo harshly and grips his chest tightly, snarling in his face. “Watch your mouth,” Bucky hissed, shoving him into one of the chairs.
He turns to look at you and you reach to squeeze his hand. You pull him away from Zemo and whisper softly, “It’s alright, Buck. Take a deep breath.”
He grits his teeth and shakes his head, and does what you ask. “I’ll kill him. If he does that again, I’ll kill him.”
You laugh softly and press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “I don’t doubt you will, Buck.”
The two of you trail behind Sam and Zemo as you leave the plane. A sleek black car is waiting just off the runway and you follow behind to the vehicle. When you settle into your spot in between Buck and Sam in the back, Zemo turns to look at the three of you.
“It’s imperative that we don’t break character, no matter what. If you do, we’re good as dead, understand?”
You scoff and roll your eyes as he looks towards you. “Crystal,” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest.
He turns to face the front of the vehicle and silence fills the car.
Suddenly, a number of motorcycles surround the car as you drive into Low Town. you make sure to keep your eyes forward and Bucky reaches for the hand on your knee. He squeezes it tightly and you do the same.
Reality is now just setting in for you. This is the first mission that you’ve been on since Steve went back to the 40s, and since Tony died. It had been three long months since Tony saved the world and brought everyone back that was taken five years earlier. You know that three months isn’t long, but it still makes you nervous. You haven’t been training to keep things from going rusty. You had no desire to.
Bucky leans into you, his mouth near the shell of your ear. “You okay?”
You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah, just a bit nervous. I’m a little out of practice. This is my first mission since Steve left,” you mumbled back, squeezing his hand again to keep you grounded. He does the same in return.
“It’s alright. I have your back. I’ll protect you, promise.”
A small smile finds its way onto your face and you shake your head at him. “You know better than anyone else than to promise something like that before a mission, Buck. It’s bad luck,” you teased.
He laughs too and the car stops in what you guess is the downtown area of Low Town. You take a deep breath and Bucky does the same. You squeeze his hand one last time before his hand falls from your grasp. He opens the door and climbs out. You follow close behind and find your spot next to Sam. He gingerly wraps his arm around your waist as you walk into the Princess Bar.
Electronic music blasts through the speakers and the bass vibrates through your chest. You press against Sam as you push through people to get to the bar. The smell of drugs and alcohol is suffocating as you walk and ignore the stares sent your way. They’re not staring at you, but Bucky, who walks just a step behind you like a looming shadow.
“Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?” Zemo asked Bucky in Russian.
It makes your blood boil and Sam squeezes your waist tightly, a reminder that you must not break character. You hate it. You hate that Bucky has to pretend to be the person he’s worked so hard to distance himself from. Bucky is not him. The Winter Soldier doesn’t exist anymore. That part of him is gone, dead. You only hope that Bucky reminds himself that the Winter Soldier isn’t him anymore as he pretends just feet behind you.
You stand in front of the bar counter as the bartender approaches. You keep your mouth shut as Zemo exchanges words with the man, briefly bringing Sam, the Smiling Tiger, into the conversation. Your eyes find Bucky’s and your heart jumps inside your throat. His eyes are cold and void of any emotion. He’s stoic and brooding. He’s fallen into character perfectly and it scares you to think that all the progress he’s made over the years has been destroyed in this moment. For his sake, you hope not.
You tear your eyes away from Bucky at the feeling of Sam’s hand on the curve of your ass. You watch him carefully as he takes a shot. The bartender moves on and you let out a careful breath.
A man grasps at Zemo’s shoulder and sneers at him. He looks over at Bucky as Zemo asks to see Selby before he walks away. Another man approaches Zemo from behind and he speaks in Russian once more. “Winter Soldier, attack.”
You hold your breath in anticipation as the unsuspecting man rests his hand on Zemo’s shoulder. You want to reach out and touch Bucky, tell him that he doesn’t have to, that the two of you still have time to make a run for it, but you don’t. You can’t. Zemo would probably try and kill you if you interfere and it’s the last thing you need.
Bucky stalks over to him with two long strides, and rips the man’s hand from Zemo’s shoulder. He twists his wrist back and throws him to the ground. Another man swings at Bucky and he stops it with ease. He punches his back and kicks him against another crowny. As another man attempts to punch and kick at Bucky. He uses his metal arm and momentum to take each of them out.
“It doesn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo smirked, leaning over to look at you and Sam.
“Shut your mouth,” you hissed between your teeth as you watched Bucky.
Bucky grabs one of the men by the throat and slams him into the counter. Guns cock all around you as you look around the room. Your heart is inside your throat and there’s ringing in your ears. You reach to grab Bucky’s arm, but Sam beats you to it.
“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us,” Zemo whispered. “Well done, soldier.”
Sam lets go of his arm and takes a step back, pulling you with him. He squeezes your hip tightly as you watch Bucky’s grip fall from the man’s throat.
“Selby will see you now,” the bartender said.
Zemo moves to follow him and you resist the urge to reach out and touch Bucky. Sam pulls you along and you walk in silence down a number of hallways. The music fades into the background and you’re squeezing Sam’s hand like your life depends on it.
A number of men on Selby’s security detail whistle as you walk by. You bite your tongue and resist the urge to snap their necks. The four of you wait at the door at the end of the hall for several seconds before it opens. You walk inside and Zemo takes you from Sam’s side. Your jaw ticks as he guides you to the empty sofa. His hand settles on your thigh and you tense under his touch.
Zemo and Selby negotiate for information. All you need to know is who created the serum and where they are. That’s it. Zemo needs to stick to the plan.
Zemo stands up from his spot next to you. “Tell us what you know about the super soldier serum, and I give you him…. along with the code words to control him,” Zemo stands behind Bucky, his hand resting on his shoulder. He’s silent and obedient, the perfect encapsulation of who he had been for the last 80 years.
There wasn’t a discussion over what the offer would be when you were on the plane from Latvia. You just assumed Zemo would figure a way out of it, he was clever enough to do it before. You hadn’t thought that he would actually use the Winter Soldier to his benefit outside of protection. How naive of you.
Bucky’s eyes are dark and he stares straight ahead as Zemo caresses his chin. He doesn’t flinch or react. He’s playing the Winter Soldier perfectly and you hate every second. You bite the inside of your cheek so hard that you start to taste blood.
“He will do anything you want.”
Selby grins, leaning back in her spot on the couch opposite of you. She tells him what you need to know. She nears Sam and then the worst happens, his phone begins to ring.
She tells him to answer it and your fingers squeeze into the leather couch. Your heart races and for the first time since you walked into the bar, Bucky’s eyes find yours. You know he can see your panic.
Things are fine momentarily. Sam’s trying his best to stay in character and you know it’s not working as well as he’d like. You hold your breath and your panic settles in at the mention of Sam’s name coming from Sarah.
Your eyes widen in horror as a bullet pierces through the glass window in front of you and lodges into Selby’s throat, killing her instantly. The act is over.
You leap to your feet and pull the tactical knife that you hid in your dress out from underneath you. You slice the knife across your attacker’s arm. Bucky kicks him into the wall and grabs you by the arm.
You run as fast as you can out the bar and through the streets of Madripoor. You dodge bullets and fight off others that attack you with knives.
You do well, all things considered with what you’re dressed in. You dig your heel into the boot of your attacker, throwing them off balance. You kick their leg out from underneath them and Sam knocks them unconscious.
Bucky, of course, is doing just fine on his own. You run over to help. You disarm the man closer to you and use the butt of the gun to knock him out.
You barely have time to register the man creeping up behind Bucky. His arm is outstretched with a gun in his hand. Bucky has no clue.
“Bucky!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, running as fast as you can towards him.
He turns to look at you as you use your whole body to shove him aside as the gun goes off.
Time stands still.
You fall to the ground in a daze as the bullet rips through your shoulder. Your eyes stare up into the night sky as it takes you a moment to realize that you’d just been shot.
You try to sit up and get back on your feet. You don’t have time to worry about your wound. You need to get the hell out of Low Town.
Bucky nearly drags you off the ground and you run. You run as fast as you can despite the bullet in your shoulder.
“We need to get out of here!” Bucky shouted, inspecting your wound.
A shadowy figure approaches and Bucky blocks you from view. The hood drops and you peer over Bucky’s shoulder. You don’t have time to be surprised that Sharon is the one standing in front of you.
“Sharon? What are you doing here?” Sam asked.
“We don’t have time for that!” Bucky snapped. “Sharon, please. You gotta help us. Y/n’s been shot.”
She nods and motions for you to follow her. She stops in front of a beautiful blue car and Bucky guides you into the car, pressing his metal hand against your shoulder to stop the bleeding. You ignore Sam and Bucky’s bickering as they yell at you for getting shot. You don’t have the energy to respond.
Sharon races across town and pulls up to a very fancy building. Sharon jumps out and opens the door for Bucky. His arm holds your torso and your uninjured arm is thrown over his shoulder as you walk inside. You gather into the elevator as it takes you to the top floor.
Your entire body goes numb and Bucky guides you to the kitchen counter. Sharon briefly disappears before returning with a heavy duty first aid kit.
“Do you have tequila?” you asked her as Bucky rummaged through the bag for the correct supplies. Sharon laughs softly before grabbing a bottle of tequila from her liquor cabinet. You take a generous sip and the liquid burns your throat.
Bucky inspects the bullet wound carefully. Thankfully it was a through and through. He doesn’t have to fish the bullet out. He works quickly and you grit your teeth as he stitches the wound close on both sides of your shoulder.
The pain lessened to a dull throb now that he’s finished. He cleans the excess blood off your skin before gently placing your arm in a sling.
“Why did you do that, Y/n?” Bucky chastised you, shaking his head in disappointment. “I could’ve taken care of him.”
You scoff and roll your eyes at him. “I don’t even get a thank you for saving your ass? You were vulnerable, I did the right thing.”
He sighs and you look away. Your eyes find Sharon’s. “Can I borrow some clothes?”
She nods and disappears down the hall to her bedroom. Silence fills the room and Sam takes his turn to reprimand you. You ignore him entirely and take another large swig of tequila.
Sharon returns moments later with a pair of clean clothes. You thank her quietly and she points you in the direction of one of the guest bedrooms. You hop off the counter and ignore Bucky’s protests and calls of your name.
You huffed in frustration as you limped towards one of Sharon’s guest bedrooms. You had enough of Sam and Bucky yelling at you for your recklessness, especially Bucky. You’re exhausted and all you want to do is sleep.
You did what you thought was right. You did what Steve would’ve done. You had Bucky’s back. Isn’t that what mattered? Sure, you got shot in the shoulder, but it isn’t something you haven’t done before. You have the scars to prove it.
“Stop running away from me! We’re not done talking about this!” Bucky yelled after you, hot on your heels into the bedroom. “What were you thinking?”
You’re sick of Bucky questioning you. You’re not a child and you’re not the bright eyed recruit he thinks you still are. You did what was right in the heat of the moment. You don’t regret it. You’d do it all over again if it meant that he was safe.
“Stop treating me like a child, James! I’m not Steve’s recruit anymore! I’m a grown woman,” you shouted back at him. Your shoulders shake and you glare at him. “I know you still think I’m that naive 25 year old, but that’s not me anymore. The last five years may have been five seconds to you, but they weren’t to me. Accept the fact that I did what I thought was right.”
“It was reckless!”
“Steve would’ve done it!” you bit back.
“This isn’t about Steve!” he argued.
You laugh bitterly and shake your head. He doesn’t see it. He doesn’t see what you see. You know he sees you as his responsibility now that Steve’s gone. He feels an obligation to look after you because Steve did. You have a part of Steve with you. Bucky’s clinging to any last remains of Steve, and that includes you.
“Isn’t it though? You feel like you have a responsibility to protect me, to look after me. Why? It’s because Steve did and now that he’s gone, you feel like you have to replace him!”
The silence that fills the room suffocates you. Your heart races with anger. You want Bucky to leave you alone. You didn’t ask for this. Sam needed your help, and when you provided it, you got yelled at for it. Now you just want to go home.
You turn your back to Bucky and pull the pants that Sharon gave you up your legs before discarding the dress in the corner of the room. You don’t care if Bucky sees all the scars that litter your backside. Maybe then he would understand that you’ve always done what’s best for the mission, even if that meant getting hurt. You throw the sweatshirt over your head and turn to look at Bucky again.
“Do you have anything else to say to me? Are you going to try and deny it?”
Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You’re one of the only people I have left that have a connection to Steve.”
Another bitter laugh escapes your mouth. He doesn’t understand. “He abandoned me, James! He abandoned us. Steve’s gone. You can’t hold on to him anymore. You don’t have to do anything Steve did. You have nothing to prove to me, I promise. I don’t need you to replace Steve. I need you, Buck. You’re the one that’s here with me, not Steve.”
Tears threaten to spill over your cheeks and you look away from him. The silence is deafening and Bucky moves to take you in his arms. He holds you against his chest and cards his fingers through your hair. You cry against his chest and cling to his henley. He gently guides you to the bed and sits down with you in his lap.
“I’m sorry, honey,” he whispered, rubbing your back. “You’re right. It just scared me. I don’t think I can handle losing you too. I’m sorry.”
You pull away to look at him with your tear stained cheeks and he carefully wipes away your tears with the pad of his thumb. You blink away the remaining tears and lean into his touch. “It’s okay, Buck. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
You rest your forehead against his and breathe him in. His metal hand rubs circles against your back and it sends shivers down your spine. He holds you carefully and no words are exchanged. Your eyes flicker to his lips and your heart thunders against your chest.
There’s a soft knock at the door and you pull your body off of Bucky’s. You sit beside him as Sam pokes his head inside the room. “Is everything okay?” he asked, looking between the two of you.
You look over at Bucky and then back to Sam. You smile and nod slowly. “Everything’s perfect, Sam.”
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The Eyes Are Lined
Summary: whilst on the last days of set of filming the show where he plays Tommy Lee, Sebastian is greeted with a surprise guest in his trailer, and he is certainly not going to be one to complain whence he’s gets a treat as sweet as you
Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader
Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of phone sex, oral sex (male + female receiving), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, p in v, degradation, spanking, daddy kink, teasing, fingering, pet names
Word Count: 4133
It fell from his lips as a relieved sigh, it had felt like forever since he had last seen you, and as he took in your form coiled in a baggy sweatshirt of his and hopefully nothing more, he was fast to close and lock the door behind himself. His tongue darted out to swipe the upon the underbite of his lip as he stepped slowly forwards in his adjourned flip flops, the wide shorts hanging off his legs. For this role he had very much diversified his appearance; lost weight, changed his hair, worn temporary tattoos - yet from the prowess that resonated through your eyes, nothing in the way of your attraction had changed.
“Sebba.” You greeted him with a wide smile, dismissing your phone that had been in your hand to the side of the couch, and crawling off the seat that you had taken up residence in. Instantly, your arms wrapped around his sleek torso, taking in the aroma of his deodorant that obliterated the senses through your nostrils. He pulled your face up with the grip of his heavy palm against your courteous cheek, as his breath fanned against the platter of your forehead.
“You’re here early, shooting doesn’t finish for another three days.” He stated, the grin that was tugging at his features clearly showing that he was anything but disappointed by your unspoken arrival. Tucking your arms to land around his waist like a belt that was enclosing him against you, you happily sighed, stroking your nose against the expanse of his bare chest that was beholden before you through the open curtains of his plain black hoodie. For a moment your eyes flickered down to the fake piercings that were strung like light fixtures from his nipples, watching as the silver metal beamed in contrast to the bulb that was fixed into the ceiling.
“I wanted to surprise you, it feels like forever since we were that close.” Was your confessing admission, as you pressed a warm kiss upon his revealed flesh, causing him to hum in acknowledgement of the amorous act. “Though I’m happy that god awful shadow is gone from your chin, if you want hair there then I suggest that you grow your beard back out.” You stroked your thumb over the crescent of his chin, running the pad through the indent as he inwardly cocked his brow, stiffening his jaw at your straight opinion.
“What’d you think of everything else? Be honest now darling.” He clicked his tongue, staring down at you with his smokily framed eyes, as you coiled back into your shoulders so that you could get a better overall viewpoint of him, as your hands descended to cupping the inward joints of his elbows. You balanced your weight on both of your feet, juggling between them to remain sturdy as you felt the mood in the trailer punctually shift, as though you were crossing through the mysterious channel that inhabited the Bermuda Triangle.
“Hmmm, well I’m rocking for the eyeliner, it really makes your eyes stand out more than they already do. And you know I’ve always been an absolute sucker for the longer hair, but I’m a sucker for you in general.” At that suggestive statement, you casted a sultry wink at him, hoping that he caught onto the act rather than thinking you had something entrapped in the perimeter of your eye. It was not dust that had clogged upon your pupil, instead it were lust, gripping onto the very image of him. It had been months, long ones at that since the pair of you had seen each other.
All the intimacy that your relationship confined in its long distance was dealt with over the phone, never once did the space that his work divulged the two of you apart make you feel lonely, he tried his utmost to ensure that you were comfortable even with miles for what seemed like an eternity separating you. The cellular contact that immersed your spare time furloughed for both late night calls that brought an innocent lovesick smile to resort upon the spectating image of your face that was reflected through the front camera of your phone, and sexual conducts that travelled across the countries that you were both in to bring you closer and alternatively higher together, in a blissful reunion that swamped your head with hyperactive hormones that followed after your mutual orgasms.
“Naughty.” He condoned you for your filthy innuendo, his hand cascading down the artwork of your body, and moving behind you, so that his fingertips were dancing upon the crown of your exempt ass cheek. “Guess all that time away has gotten you desperate for me, huh? Do you want to some sucking up to me? I’ve had a pretty hard day, and it would help me relieve a bunch of the stress that depends on these last few days. Not to mention I am so pent up from not seeing you all this time, it was practically torture honey bee, I’m not even sure how I survived.”
Dragging his head down to meet with your own, you pressed luscious and. Extended pecks onto his thin lips,having missed them covering every inch o your skin with the love that swelled in his chest and other places for you. “I don’t even know if you’ll last that long Bas, its been a certain while of you solely using your hand.” A giggle reaped from your throat as your hearing absorbed the gasp that slithered out of his mouth; he playfully pushed down upon the line of your shoulders, only enhancing your amusement by doing so. “So pushy.”
“That is right, and I will only get rougher with you the longer that it takes you to get down on your knees for me, so I would think logically. After all, after I completely wrap on this show, I’m going to have all the spare one in the world to put you in your little place and stop you from being a disobedient little brat.” It was a promise, he was threatening you in the most sexual way possible, and you’d be lying if you were to say that some aroused nectar hadn’t gathered in the passage that divided your highs down the middle. You gulped, intimacy written in every speck of your irises as you lowered yourself to be poised on your thighs, your face near the tent forming at his crotch.
The material of his shorts gathered with creases as his cock grew beneath the baggy subject that defined his legs that much more. A hand ravelled through your locks as you found yourself darting your tongue out to caress his legs, moving your muscle upwards as your hands teased the waistband of the barrier that prevented you from seeing all of him. “How much have you missed me baby, let daddy know.” Lightly, he begs to roll his hips forwards, pressing his erection teasingly against your face, and you were loving every second of it. His balls were pressing against your chin on every mimic forwards, and as you tried to speak, your voice was a tiny bit muffled by them.
“So much Sebby, I hated being apart from you.” You thought that would be a good enough answer, but as his fingers threaded further through your hair, a quiet yelp ejected from your throat as he strayed you head to be leant upwards so that you were gazing into his domineering eyes. That was when you realised that you must have made a mistake, but no matter what it was, it was much too late to take it back. Sexual fear paved through your gaze as you poured, wanting nothing to get back to your journey of duty which was to suck his cock, however, you could not continue if Sebastian had other things, such as whatever you had done so wrongly plaguing his mind.
“Bitch no cause why did you pronounce my name wrong? It begins with your favourite letter; a D, remember? And now I’m not even sure that you deserve my D. Right now I am not your Sebastian, what am I little girl?” He growled down at you, his toes rigidly curling in the open toed shoes that he were sporting, his hand remaining tangled in your hair.
“Daddy.” You tried not to sob out of dismissal, and instead expedited for apologising to refrain from angering him any further. “I’m so sorry daddy, I’ll do anything. Anything to make it up to you, please, I’ll never make that mistake again.” Unless it was not in this scenario of course, the pebbles of your tears brought a vivid richness and innocence upon your face, as though you were pooling diamonds out of the windows of your explicit soul. And I’m return, you were met with the gift of Seb shoving his shorts to be draped over his feet, his cock playing the curve of a sail as it stiffened more so at the air that hit it.
“Are you wearing anything underneath that sweatshirt baby?” He enquired as his right hand held his length in hand, enclosing his fist around the warm flesh that was beading with visible emotion at the tip. It was as though a pearl was balancing on the sector of his slit, teasing you as you dryly licked your lips, wanting nothing more than to ingest that into your body. To answer his question, your hands toyed with the bottom of his clothing article, pulling it up so that he could see your bare abdomen, of which was dressed in nothing more than your flawless skin.
“No daddy, I’m not. Am I in more trouble for that?” You worried that you were, all that you had wanted to do was surprise him, and you felt yourself grow a little giddy as he slowly shook his head, and pull back the coat of his foreskin to flash off as much of his cock as possible. He was teasing you to the slyest of his abilities, he wanted to subject you into doing something against your better judgement, and you remained strong, no matter how much you wanted to coil your lips around the head of his member and take him as far as the hollow of your throat would naturally allow.
“No baby, imma let you off the hook for that because I haven’t seen you in so long and I know that pretty little cunt has missed me probably more than the rest of you, but don’t test me again angel, or on the plane home you’re gonna have to sit on a bag of ice.” A part of you wanted to smirk, to coyly piss him off to see if that perseverance were to be true, however if you knew Sebastian, and you knew him more than well, you wouldn’t put anything past him nor his motives. “Go on, I can see you practically drooling to take me in your mouth. Don’t tease or I’ll fuck your face; be a good girl would ya.”
You weren’t going to waste anymore time, for all that you aware, any one of the set assistants could take him away from you, and that possibility only fuelled your instincts further as you hovered your head away from his hand, that was now patting and gently playing with your locks instead of using them as a leash, and flickered your tongue out to swipe that sample of precum and swallow it without hesitation. Before your mind could comprehend it, your body had already taken the next steps forwards and started to swallow down his member, your lashes fluttering closed as you hummed, sending a rhythm through Sebastian’s body of which made him cuss.
He was looking through half lidded eyes, almost shutting them, though stopping from doing so when he noticed your hand creep down the smooth skin of your thigh, and pry at your own folds. He was going to reprimand you for being so confident that you weren’t going to get caught doing something that was so ludicrous, but he decided that he were to allow you to continue for a moment. If he made a scene after revelling in his own pleasure, then you would be more compliant with whichever punishment that he nailed you down with. The tips of your digits quivered around your lips, before sinking within your walls and the rest of your palm cupped your pussy.
It made more sense now you were moaning against him, for not only the taste of him that hung heavily on your tongue, but from the slip of power that you thought you had over him, even if it be cloaked in secrecy. As he thought more of that, he found himself starting to fume with an underlining of rage, his fists stiffened at his sides as he exhaled through a combination of the sensations rippling beneath his skin. It was a combination of brewing disappointment and foreseen arousal; his veins burned with both, turning his blood warm and drumming his brain with one thing - it were his birthright to make you submit before him.
And though you were positioned in front of him, cast to your knees as you worked on his hard cock with your heavenly mouth, your mind had slithered away from the laws that you were supposed to obey as you fingered yourself against and without his jurisdiction. To retain from speaking out just yet Seb put the pressure of his front teeth down upon his bottom lip, as he tuned his ears on the sounds of your mouth i taking his cock and slathering it with the natural lubricant of your saliva, and if he paid enough attention, the sound of your nimble fingers darting in and out of your entrance was echoed through the slick that was provided from your hormonal body, that coated your fingers and glistened underneath the lighting.
As he felt a spark approaching through the intermissions of his pleasured body, he found it to be best to direct you away, and exhibit distance despite having forgone with that flow for the time space that you hadn’t seen each other in. And thus he gently stepped back, allowing his cock to fall past your lips and a string of spit to be the only thing connecting you to it. It was an instinct for you to whine as you watched him take his cock back into his hand, giving himself a couple of easing tugs to cool himself down from his ruined orgasm.
And that was when all prevailed in realisation for you, that he continued to ogle at you from above as your index and middle fingers on your right hand remained inside of your cunt, and as your mind sparked some sense back into it, you instantly removed them despite the emptiness that attained within that area. Your eyes remained wide as you watched with caution as Seb took it upon himself to take a seat on the sofa that was below the blind strung window of his trailer, his hand temptingly patting his thick thighs as a means to convince you to move closer.
“Get up here you deviant minx.” It was not a sweet gesture that he were offering you, no, instead you were getting punished despite evading such a fate earlier on. Pushing yourself up from your knees, you went to lay yourself against him homely lap, however as you went to do so, he tugged at the sweatshirt that compiled a flush of heat against your addictive body, pulling it up a few inches to send you the message. Once you had completely removed the appeared and were dressed to the eye in nothing more than your naked flesh, that was when Sebastian allowed you to continue laying your stomach across his legs, as your own legs and breasts were draped either side of them.
His rough fingertips caressed the muscles of your back, making them twitch from rugged anticipation. They descended lower as he dug his knee into your ribs, enjoying the way that your breath hitched. “You know the rules angel, you don’t touch without permission, and yet you did. Do you have anything to say for yourself before I bruise this beautiful ass red and blue?” The worst thing was you could imagine how your cheeks would look all bruised up from the harsh strokes from his commanding hands; it had happened before and each and every time you’d tell yourself that it’d never happen again, that you’d avoid such intimate brutality because you’d behave.
But you both knew better than to trust those empty promises that wailed from your desperate throat as you were subjected to a pain that made your mind hazy and your throat parched. “No daddy, just that I’m sorry.” A yelp quickly followed after as he collided his hand down upon the fat of your behind, your entire body jolting as you shakily inhaled, knowing that in a few minutes that you’d get used to the pain and find it less surprising. The first strike was always the worst, and as another clapped down, followed by more and more, tears reigned the paving of your face as they spilt down your cheeks.
Your apology was simply a waver in the air, it did nothing other than tell him something that he’d heard a million times by this point. And when nothing added to the soreness of your bosom, you swore that you were in heaven, it continued to sting though as relief washed over your aura, and your lashes flickered through the fallen tears, slowly drying from the sobbing that they had commenced. “You took that well, okay.” Seb breathed, beginning to softly stroke your ass which made you whimper from the feather light pressure that digressed against the impact he had prohibited you to dwindle in. “I’m gonna reward you, think you can turn over baby?”
He slipped out from beneath you, allowing you to remain on your stomach for the moment until you had finally came up with your decision. You wriggled a little, stretching your toes as you hummed in reply and switched, despite the searing conundrum that resorted favour over your backside, onto the polar of your position, only to find your lover of whom was in control crawling towards you, the rings around his eyes looking sinful as he stared at your naked body as though you were his prey. His hands began to reel up your legs, coercing you into squirming against the cushioning that was managing to keep you at the same physical level as him, though the same couldn’t be said for the mental premise that rendered in interference of your relationship.
Hot air brushed upon your mound as he pressed a kiss to the hill that lead to the lake that was fawning at his close proximity, waves crashing and glistening to appeal to his ocean eyes. “Daddy, can you please do something?” A grunt differed from his throat as he inhaled the sea salt that subordinated his nose to the all natural scent, all before he nipped at the inside of your thigh before delving his face between the tightened proximity, sealing his mouth around your sensitive bud as he mumbled moans against your reactive flesh, earning himself a deeper invasion as you rutted your hips up to his face.
Sebastian Stan was a man of many talents; he could clearly mimic anyone that a script needed him to, but the one thing that he was truly magical at was using his mouth. It was a skill set that made you mercilessly comply to him, it was his superpower, which was indeed ironic considering that he played a hero in one of the world’s biggest franchises known to cinema. He raised his hands to grasp at your own as he trailed them into his strongly pigmented hair, giving you permission to ravel your hands through his straight hair, and feel the smooth sheen against the judge of your skin. You liked it, as you knew that you would.
Using his tongue, he pried at your entrance, sinking it within you as he began to shake his unruly head, extracting small screams from your throat as you became victim to his plentiful evidence of love. Your chest raised out in the air as your eyes rolled back, and a tweak pulled at your clit once more, and looking down, it revealed that it were your beloved tugging at the button with his teeth, as he gouged your reaction. When you reached your orgasm, he dived head first back into your emptying cavern, cleansing all that he had subdued from your body via his amazingly versed and performed sentiment.
“Taste so fucking good baby.” To prove his point, he clambered above you, slipping his lips against your own as he swabbed your tongue with his own, sharing your own juices so that you could feel them balance on your taste buds. His hand ran down your body as he pinched your hardened nipples, earning himself a withered and high pitched sigh from your mouth as he pulled away from the kiss. “Think you for another one in you angel? Daddy wants to fuck this sweet pussy, you okay with that?” A dazed nod gave him permission, though he grasped your jaw with his strong hand as he ensured that you stared back at him. “I need to hear you.”
“Yes, want your cock in me daddy. Always do.” A content smile used your mouth as it’s efficient puppet as he held onto his cock, and teased it around your folds, wetting his foreskin and other areas to make it more pleasurable for the both of you when he went to push in. And when he did, you felt like you had died and gone to heaven, it made you wonder how you ever survived going months without his touch, in any which way. Your hands held onto his hips as you steadied his weight, silently giving him the okay to start moving, and he did, he sunk within your cavernous walls, only to pull back and repeat the action. “Seb.” You breathed the shortened version of his name, the hot air leaving your mouth hitting his shoulder as he panted beside your face, his nose dragging up your cheek as you ran your hand down, cupping his balls and stroking them with the tender contact of your thumb.
For once under these circumstances, he did not shun you for saying his true name, instead he was too busy with the maddening rush that flew through his body as he fornicated with you. His pace increased, provoking the sound of flesh slapping upon flesh in the air as your thighs and hips clashed, amongst other parts. “Fuck sugar, ya close?” He asked you hurriedly, his forehead scrunching up as he felt immense pleasure as your cunt clenched around him, using his leverage to play with your clit once more. You ravenously nodded your head, dragging your nails over his body as you tried to jut your body up against his, chasing the approaching high which ultimately had you slumping against the cushions as he continued to pummel your body with his delivering thrusts.
“Shit.” He almost shouted, a soothing buzz ongoing in his body as he released his seed within you, you being able to feel every drop even after he pulled out and rolled to lay beside you, tugging you to be laying on his chest, neither of you caring for the cum that was escaping from your entrance that also happened to be the exit. “Why you laughing at me angel face?” Sebastian queried as he heard your cheeky sounds of amusement, a grin ruining the formation of his rocker disguise.
“You’re eyeliner’s all smudged.” You laughed, running the pad of your thumb beneath his eye and in the crows feet that dipped below, blending it further into his skin and giving it a grey hue to its ebony gradient. “You still look hot though.” You shrugged, nestling your head deeper into his chest, finally relieved that you and Sebastian were in the same place at the same time again.
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Author’s Note: So, this fic is based off a tik tok that I saw and was like, “oooouuhhhh but imagine a full blown fic for this??” Here we are! This is that fic! It kind of reminds me of my story, “Married? To Reindeer Games?” but this is cute. A bit of angst but mainly fluff! Let me know what you thought! xox
Bucky's phone rings during the Avenger's meeting, causing everyone to look over at him. The super soldier blushes a bit and apologizes before fishing his phone from his pocket. He glances down for a quick second to see a couple of texts from you and his brows furrow.
You don't usually text him often when he's working, knowing that he's usually too busy to answer. Bucky opens the text from you and suppresses a groan upon seeing the picture you sent. Good, Lord. He tilts his head a bit before saving the photo, moving it into a secret file he has for you.
You and Bucky have been married for almost a year now, and the two of you dated for a few years before he proposed. Only thing is… none of the Avengers know you exist and vice versa.
"Who is it?" Steve asks, snapping Bucky from his thoughts while picking his head up.
The blue-eyed man clears his throat while locking his phone. "Uh, no one important, sorry," he mumbles and puts his phone back into his pocket.
A smirk appears on your lips as your phone vibrates beside you. You came up with the idea to send your husband a sultry photo when you knew he had a meeting this morning. It's not something you usually do since he's more old-fashioned when it comes to love… and technology, but you couldn't help yourself.
That's not very nice, doll. You know that I won't be home until tomorrow.
A chuckle leaves your lips and you shake your head before replying to the man.
Now you know what you'll come home to, lover boy. 😘🥰
Bucky doesn't look at your reply until after the meeting is done and everyone leaves the room. A snicker comes from his lips as he reads your reply. His eyes drift to his flesh hand, missing the silver ring that adorns his finger when he's at home.
Luckily, you didn't make a big fuss about him wearing his wedding ring on his right hand… since he has a metal arm for the left. He wishes he could call you before the mission, wanting to hear your voice once more.
Bucky looks around the room, seeing no one in it and the super-soldier stands up from his chair before walking towards the windows. "I'm calling anyway," he mumbles to himself before dialing your number.
He presses the phone against his ear and shoves his free hand into his pocket, listening to it ring. "Hi, handsome," your voice comes through the other end and a smile graces his pink lips.
Bucky's eyes flutter close at the sound of your voice, wishing he could be home. "Hi, doll," he mumbles and leans against the support beam. "I just wanted to call before I head out."
A smile comes to your lips as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Aw, do you miss me already?" You ask him and Bucky lets out a breathy laugh before looking down at his shoes.
"Always, doll. I always miss you," he sighs and your heart flutters in your chest.
"Just promise me that you'll come home unscathed this time," you tell him and Bucky wets his lips a bit, running a hand through his hair.
"I'll try my best, love. Sometimes it's out of my control," Bucky informs you as he's done many times before.
He can hear you sigh through the phone and Bucky glances over his shoulder at the sound of footsteps behind him. Steve gives the super-soldier a look and Bucky nods his head, knowing it's time to leave.
"Hey, I got to go. I'll talk to you when I get back, alright?" He whispers loud enough for you to hear.
"I love you, Bucky," you tell him, and his heart pounds against his chest, a small smile coming to his face.
"Te iubesc, păpușă."
A giggle leaves your lips at the Romanian phrase, one you've come to love hearing. You bid him goodbye before hanging up the phone, resting your head against the back of the couch.
"Who was that?" Steve asks Bucky as the two super soldiers walk towards the quinjet.
The blue-eyed man glances towards his long-time friend while shoving his hands into his coat pockets. "A friend I met recently," he lies and Steve hums in response.
"New friend, huh? It's nice that you're putting yourself out there, Buck," Steve smiles while patting his back, a chuckle leaving their lips.
"Yeah, it's definitely… interesting," Bucky laughs as the two steps onto the jet.
Everyone gets in their seat before fastening their seat belt. The brunette glances out the window as his heart clenches a bit, wishing he didn't have to go on this mission.
You're awakened by the sound of something crashing outside of your bedroom, jumping up from your spot. You swallow thickly and push the blankets off of you before sliding out of bed. You grab the bat that sits by your door, clutching it in your hands as you quietly open your bedroom door.
You can see a light illuminating the other room and a shadow walking around. You take deep breaths and stalk your way down the hall, holding up the bat slightly.
Bucky searches for the first aid kit that's usually under the kitchen sink, a bit surprised to not see it after opening the cupboard.
"Where did she put it?" He whispers to himself. He releases a wince as the gash on his ribs flares up, his hand pressing against the wound.
You peek around the corner and you relax a bit upon seeing your husband standing in your kitchen. "Bucky," you call out, making the super-soldier jump at the sudden sound of your voice.
He whips his head around and frowns a bit as Bucky didn't want to wake you up. "Hi, doll. Did I wake you?" The blue-eyed man asks and you chuckle before nodding your head.
"Yeah. I, uh, I thought you were an intruder so you're lucky I didn't hit you," you motion towards the bat in your hands and Bucky lets out a laugh.
"Well, at least you have a weapon to defend yourself with," he mentions while walking towards you.
Your eyes glance down to his right hand, seeing blood staining his slender fingers. Panic flashes in your eyes as you reach a hand out to him. "What happened?!" You ask while looking up at him through your lashes.
Bucky glances down at the wound, a dry laugh leaving his lips before shrugging his shoulders. "It's nothing, my love. Just a cut," he tries to reassure you, not wanting you to worry about him.
"You're bleeding, Buck. It's not nothing!" You tell him sternly while heading towards your bathroom to get the first aid kit. A sigh leaves your lips while rubbing your face, hearing Bucky's footsteps following you.
"This is the third time you've come home injured, Bucky," you inform him and your husband lets out a deep breath.
You sift through the first aid kit, get everything you might need, and set them onto the counter. "I've told you how dangerous my job can be. It's why I don't tell you about it," he mentions and you glare at him for a few moments.
"I know it can be dangerous and I get that. I just wish you or whoever the fuck you work with would be more cautious. You're all I have, Bucky," you mumble.
"I'm fine, Y/N. Jesus," he mutters loud enough for you to hear and your heart drops a bit. Bucky's never snapped at you like this in the few years you've known each other.
He takes the supplies from you, pushing you out of the way. "James," you use his first name and his head snaps towards you, "I care about you and your well-being. You can't be mad at me for that."
A sigh leaves his lips and starts to grow irritated, not wanting to have this conversation anymore. "But, you know what you signed up for," he explains and you furrow your brows.
"If you're going to be an ass you're more than welcome to leave," you state while crossing your arms.
Bucky sighs and slaps his hands against the counter. "Fine. I'll see you later."
Your chest clenches as you watch your husband pick up the supplies he'll need before walking out of the bathroom. "You're seriously leaving?" You quietly call after him, feeling the tears well up in your eyes.
The two of you now stand in your living room, Bucky's free hand wrapped around the doorknob. He doesn't answer you, glancing back at you one more time before walking out the door. You press your lips together to keep the sobs from escaping.
You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before retreating to your room, deciding it'd be best to leave him alone for a few hours.
You fiddle with the bouquet of flowers in your hands, looking down at the white orchids. A sigh leaves your lips as you sit in the back of an Uber, making your way towards the compound Bucky works for.
It's been a few days since your fight with Bucky and you haven't heard from him since. You've tried calling him but he never answers. You didn't want to have to show up at his workplace, but he's left you with no choice.
You want to fix what happened. You've been a walking corpse for two days as you grew worried that Bucky would want to get a divorce or something.
The vehicle comes to a stop in front of the large building and you swallow the lump in your throat as the Uber driver wishes you luck. You give the man a tight-lipped smile and quietly thank him before exiting his vehicle.
You walk into the building and see a woman sitting at a desk, phone pressed to her ear. "Oh, hold on," she mumbles and looks towards you. "Can I help you?"
"Is, uhm, is Bucky Barnes available?" You ask timidly and the woman furrows her brows while eyeing the flowers in your hand.
"He is, yes. If you take the elevator to the third floor and take a left- you'll find their meeting room. It's hard to miss," she explains and you nod your head in response, repeating her words in your head.
You mumble a thank you before walking towards the elevator doors. You're a nervous wreck as you call the elevator, the doors automatically opening up and you take a deep breath before stepping inside. You press the button that'll take you to the third floor and watch the doors close.
God, does he even want to see me?
What's he going to say?
You're chewing on the inside of your cheek as you inhale the scent of the orchids in your hand, hoping the floral scent will calm your nerves slightly.
Bucky taps his fingers against the table, wishing to be anywhere besides this meeting Tony's currently holding. The blue-eyed man begins to think about you and how you're holding up. It's been two days since he walked out of your shared apartment.
He feels a bit guilty for not having returned your calls or even going to see you, but he thought both of you needed space. Bucky wanted to calm down before trying to fix the problem. A part of him wishes he could talk to either Steve or Sam about the situation.
The elevator doors go off, causing everyone's head to snap towards the metal doors. The group's on high alert as no one ever shows up unannounced. Tony holds his hand up as the elevator doors open and a woman steps out.
Bucky's heart pounds against his chest as he watches you look around the place, a bouquet in your dainty hands. What are you doing here?! He thinks to himself as Tony walks towards the meeting room's door.
"Excuse me, Miss?" He calls out to you and you snap your head in the direction of the voice. "Can we help you?"
You swallow thickly as you notice ten people staring at you with confused expressions on their faces. Your eyes manage to find Bucky's and butterflies swirl around your stomach at how attractive he looks.
"Bucky," you call out and the super-soldier stands from his seat, everyone's gaze now suddenly on him.
"Who is that, Buck?" Sam asks while the brunette walks closer to you, pushing past Tony.
You can feel the tears coming to your eyes as your husband walks up to you, a concerned look in his ocean blue eyes. "Doll, what are you doing here?" He asks low enough for you to hear, his hand resting on your forearm.
"Yo-You haven't come home nor answered my calls. I-I'm sorry-"
"There's nothing for you to be sorry about, my love. I should be the one apologizing. The one getting you flowers," he chuckles lightly and your cheeks blush, glancing down at the bouquet in your hands.
Tony clears his throat causing Bucky to glance over his shoulder to see his friends and coworkers watching the two of you. "I hate to interrupt whatever's going on here, but who are you?" He asks and you can feel your hands becoming clammy.
"Uh, I'm Y/N," you introduce yourself and give a small wave. "Do… Do you have a vase for these by any chance?"
You motion to the flowers and one of the women walks closer to the two of you. "We do. I'll take them for you," she grins and you thank her while handing her the bouquet.
"So," Steve pipes up and gains your attention, the blonde crossing his arms over his chest. "What's your last name?"
"Barnes," you answer immediately while fiddling with the wedding ring on your finger.
Sam looks between you and Bucky before glancing around the room. "Sister, right?" He questions and you stifle a laugh.
You lick your lips and shake your head. "Uh, no, not exactly," you chuckle while glancing towards your husband.
"Wife, actually," Bucky corrects him and everyone's eyes widen.
"Wife?! When did you have the time to find a wife?" Tony asks as Steve thinks of the day they went on a mission, overhearing the last bit of Bucky's phone call.
A small smile comes to the blonde's lips and claps a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "So, this is who you were talking to the other day?" He asks and Bucky blushes a bit and nods his head in reply.
"I didn't want her to be involved with my work, not wanting to risk her life so I never told her about you guys. Whereas I never told you all about her," he explains while looking down at you.
You smile softly while taking a step closer to the man, wrapping your arm around his waist. Bucky holds you close to him and presses a kiss to the side of your head.
"If you didn't tell her about us, how did she find this place?" Tony asks him and Bucky runs a hand through his hair.
"I told her where I worked… not what we do," he tells him and Tony hums in response. Bucky looks back down at you and laces his hand with yours, squeezing it gently. "Now if you'll excuse me. I need to make up for what I did a few days ago."
Taglist: @jessalyn-jpeg @queen-of-mischief @bumblebet-20 @thewxntersoldier
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐫 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐛.𝐛
a/n: this is one of my favorites & it was inspired by the endings beginnings gif set
pairing: bartender!bucky x reader
reblogs/feedback/likes are greatly appreciated & highly encouraged! however, DO NOT repost/steal ANY of my fics!
warnings: 18+, language, oral (m & f), fingering, unprotected sex, fluff, sorry for any missed typos
The bar has cleared out from its peak hours. All that is left are: the regulars, a few college kids playing darts, and a newly single girl sitting alone at a small booth in the corner.
You stare blankly at your empty glass, spinning it slowly in your hands. The glass has been empty for quite some time- you desperately want to get more, but your body felt glued to the booth cushion.
The alcohol has worn off and all that is left is the light fog around the front of your head.
With all the strength you can muster, you scoot off the booth with the glass barely hanging from your fingers. You sniffle and take a deep breath before walking to the near-empty bar.
Plopping yourself down on one of the stools, you wait patiently for the bartender to get to you.
He has been refilling you all night- you’re surprised he hasn’t cut you off.
He watched you the whole night to make sure you weren’t going to get out of hand- but you never reached the “security come to get her”.
Just sat in the booth the whole night, dressed in your black skirt and a graphic t-shirt that's tucked into the sides- with your hair pulled away from your face.
You intrigued him every time you came in- coming in happy as can be, ordering fruity cocktails. It all turns to shit the moment the man, who he assumes is was your boyfriend, comes in. That's when the sweet fruity cocktails turned to the bitter taste of whiskey.
The same man was with you earlier, but he had left in a fury a couple of hours ago. This interaction wasn’t the first time he saw him leave like this.
He caught glimpses of the sour relationship throughout the months, as this bar is was “your spot”. He thought how much of an asshole the guy was when he’d leave like that, sometimes in the middle of you talking.
His blood would boil at the sight, wishing you’d leave him already- growing protective whenever you'd come in, security on stand by every time.
When the man left, you wouldn't drink much after- only sit for an hour or two. Based on the unusual amount of whiskey you consumed tonight, he assumed there was a breakup.
From years of experience, he knew not to cut off someone freshly broken up with. There were rules he had set for situations like this.
Number one: do not comment about what is wrong.
Number two: do not go past the bar (including helping to the car or walking home).
Number three: do not kiss or flirt.
Number four: do NOT by any means, take a girl home.
With the experience, he knew to never break these rules- it would lead to unnecessary yelling and people hysterically crying.
You were handling the loss of the relationship much differently than previous customers. From the months of watching from the sidelines, he had a desire to comfort you.
You didn’t cry- not really, just sat in the booth downing glasses of the cheapest whiskey the bar offered. Every now and then your eyes fill with tears, but that’s when the whiskey would come into play- prolonging the sulking session.
Nonetheless, he watched you made sure nobody messed with you, and left you to cope on your own.
“Refill?” He asks, bringing the bottle to the counter and twisting the bottle cap off.
“Water, please.” You lightly shake your head.
“Whiskey’d out?” The glass fills and you take it, not bothering to make eye contact with him.
“Uhm, yeah,” A faint smile appearing and disappearing.
He looks at you- your eyes are red from the strain. Sitting quietly, you sip the glass of water.
There is a mental battle going on inside his head. Debating back and forth about breaking his rules, but his mouth is faster than his brain.
Number one: Do NOT comment about what is wrong.
“For what it’s worth, he seemed like a dick.” Giving in, he says, attempting to cheer you up, but you are caught off guard by the comment.
You didn’t think he was paying attention to the events that happened at the booth. Glancing up at him, you finally pay attention to the man who has been supporting your drinking habits.
He wears a red and black plaid shirt with a black t-shirt underneath and you could faintly smell his cologne from where you were sitting. His hair is tossed about and facial hair covering his jawline.
You are mesmerized by the sight in front of you.
“He is, but I'm the idiot that keeps going back.” Mumbling defeated, you finish the glass of water.
Beginning the spinning again, zoning out on the empty glass.
“But… I think this time is for real,” You add.
Raising an eyebrow, he tilts his head in confusion.
“Cheated.” Anger builds in the pit of his stomach as he nods along.
“His loss.” He brings the water tap to the glass, stopping the spinning.
You let your grip on the glass go, letting him refill it.
Your eyes flutter to his, taken back by how icy they look. He breaks the focus by putting the tap back down. He holds out his hand-
“James, but people call me Bucky.” You hesitantly shake his hand. His palms are smooth, the grip soothing you.
Swallowing hard, you pull away.
“Y/N.” You give your best smile you could manage.
Bucky smiles back before tending to the other customers. You watch him pour fruity drinks into glasses and laugh with the others.
He is charismatic, but not over the top. It’s a natural charm he has, one that’s captivating. He is whipping away the fallen liquid and crumbs from the counter. The smell of the grease had eased, leaving you to assuming closing time is soon. The college kids have left, leaving the dart vacant.
The regulars are finishing their drinks, before throwing a five-dollar bill down before disappearing outside. Meaning the only person left is the newly single girl.
Every now and then, Bucky glances at you while he cleans up.
The bar closed almost fifteen minutes ago, but he didn’t mind the company. His managers and co-workers leave him, but not without reminding you to lock up and kick the girl out.
He had no plans of kicking you out till he is finished. The TVs are playing reruns of friends.
Glimpses of a smile would appear when a comedic scene would come on. Bucky wished he had seen it more, but it would fade like the fruitiness of the drinks.
“Oh god, I didn’t even realize you guys closed. I’m so sorry-“
You frantically getting up from the stool when you see Bucky locking the front doors.
“You’re alright to stay longer if you want,”
The truth is you didn’t want to leave because the moment you leave, you know you’ll be forced to face reality.
“I don’t want you to have to stay longer than you have to.”
He shakes his head, pulling out another small glass.
Filling it with water as well,
“I don’t mind the company.”
The words fell from his lips making your stomach flutter.
Number two: Do not go past the bar (including helping to the car or walking home).
Bucky scrunches his dirty apron that hung around his waist. Tossing it in the hamper that stays by the entrance to the kitchen.
You tense up as he takes a seat next to you. Bucky smiles gesturing to cheers your glasses. You smile nervously, clinking the glasses before bringing it to your lips.
Resting the cup on the counter, he is staring at you- mesmerized by your beauty, even in the aftermath of a disaster night.
You’re avoiding eye contact as you are flushed. He chuckles at the reaction. You go to hide your face in your hands but being cut off by the gentle sound of Bucky’s voice.
“Don’t hide, you look great.”
This only furthers your desire to hide behind the tallest wall you could find. The real truth is that you haven’t been looked at like that in so long.
Your ex only looks at you like a prize he has won, showing you off like a trophy. This gaze was soft and admiring. You manage to look back at him with a soft grin, the first time one this genuine appears across your lips.
“Are you okay?” The smile fades from your lips.
Bucky’s face scrunches with concern. You take a deep breath and begin to talk about the break-up.
Bucky intently listens as you begin to vent about the severity of the break-up. He had cheated throughout the whole relationship, gaslighting you whenever you’d bring it up. Making you believe this next go-around would be better, he’d stop the affair, he’d stop lying- all the make you stay.
None of them were true promises, because weeks later he’d be back in a random girl’s bed.
You explain the insane reasons you stay, and this brings Bucky to an unusually heated level. Normally when people would use him as a free therapist while bartending, he wouldn’t be this emotionally attached to the events.
Bucky wanted to find him and beat him to a bloody pulp by the end of the story. If he had known how badly you were treated by him, he would have spoken up at previous nights.
“You’re too good for him anyway. Fuck him.”
Bucky’s tone comes across as more aggressive than he wanted it to. You crack a smile at the protectiveness. It was nice to have someone to be protective for once.
“I don’t know…” Your voice is soft and just below a whisper.
When you look back at Bucky, his bottom lip is tucked under the top. He bites back the urge to cup your face and press his lips against yours.
Showing you how you should truly be treated. Making you feel like you’re worthy of every good thing in the world. His eyes are pleading and yours are begging for him to do something.
You wish for him to take your mind off your shit ex. Wanting to forget the shit evening you had experienced. You need his soft lips against yours. The two of you stare into each other’s eyes. Knowing you both want the same thing, his gaze drifts to your lips.
Bucky leans in closer to you. Your breath hitches, begging with your eyes that he’d bring his lips to you.
Number three: do not kiss or flirt.
He takes the side of your face in his hand, fingers resting just below your ear. Bucky’s thumb rubbing lightly against the corner of your mouth. He watches your lips slowly part. His thumb runs over your bottom lip, before licking his own. Your chest is heavier and the amount of self-control you were exhibiting should be awarded.
Bucky takes one last breath before bringing his lips to meet yours. His tongue slipping so effortlessly into yours. Colliding against yours hungry and desperate.
Your eyes are tightly shut and your body aching to be against his. Bucky's lips pull apart from yours, leaving the two of you panting. It is quiet for a moment, the two of you mentally decide the pros and cons of what is about to happen if you continue.
You bring your lips back to his, more eager. This time, Bucky’s other hand is brought to the other side pulling you up and out of your seat. One hand moves from your cheek to your waist, guiding it back toward the pool table.
“Jump.” Bucky breathlessly mumbles against your lips.
His hands leave the sides of your face, assisting you. You are roughly placed on the green felt, letting your legs spread open for Bucky to move between them. You are washed over by the guilt of using him. You pull away from the kiss using your palm as a barrier between your bodies.
“What’s wrong?” Bucky is quick to back away in fear he hurt you in some way.
“I don’t want to use you.”
His facial expression changes.
“You’re not using me- I just want to make you feel good if you want to stop-“
That is all the confirmation you need from him before you reach and pull him back between your legs. Bucky brings his hand back to the side of your face, cupping it rougher than before. His other falls to your waist, scooting you closer to the edge of the table.
You grip the edge of the pool table, digging your nails into the felted edges. His fingers are searching desperately for the edge of your skirt.
Bucky finds the end and slides his palm along your thigh, slipping underneath the fabric. Your breath hitches and a quiet whimper falls from your lips. You break away from the kiss looking down as his palm lifts the fabric up.
Bucky drops down in front of you, pressing his lips against your leg. He peppers kisses on the inside of your leg, not breaking eye contact with you.
The intimacy of eye contact is foreign to you- intimacy is foreign. Passion is foreign. Watching a man worship your body is foreign. This is an experience unmatched by anyone you’ve been with, especially for someone who you barely know.
His kisses are innocent till he reaches your inner thigh. His eyes are darker than before, you watch in awe as he doesn’t leave a piece of skin uncovered in a kiss. Bucky held the sides of your hips as he began to trail kisses closer and closer to your clothed heat. He wants you to feel better. He wants you to know that someone is willing to treat you like you’re supposed to.
“Do you want me to stop?” He breaths, ready to devour you.
You shake your head, granting him full access to your heat. It began aching the moment Bucky dragged his finger over the covered area.
You try and steady your breathing but watching him focus so intently on you made it harder for you to breathe. He becomes eye level with your heat. While licking his lips, he tugs on the band of your panties.
You gently lift, allowing them to be slid off in a swift motion. The cool air hitting the moist area sending shivers down your spine.
“Shit,” Your voice is soft and quiet, as Bucky's tongue dips in between your folds- tasting your arousal.
It is a taste he could easily become addicted to if he wasn’t careful. A craving that will sneak up on him at any hour of the day.
“So sweet,” His stubble grazes your inner thigh adding to the sensation that is unfolding.
His tongue is warm, soothing the chill. He is licking up all the juices that are leaking from you. Your soft whines encourage him to lick around your clit. He is teasing you every time he reaches it and pulls back down.
One hand finds a rake through his hair, tugging lightly for him to continue. Bucky's lips work their magic, licking you all up. Gliding between your folds. His lips stop at the top of your heat and he uses his fingers to spread you open, revealing your clit.
It is calling his name and Bucky's thumb rubs small figure eights around the sensitive nerve, warming it up. You’re shocked at the motion, whimpering.
“Please, stop teasing,” You whine,
“Whatever you say, baby,”
His lips close around the nerve, sucking lightly at the flesh. His fingers push into your heat, soaked in your juices. Your mouth falls open and a string of curses escape. He hums against your heat swirling his tongue around your clit.
His fingers move faster, curling every few strokes. Hitting your g-spot every time, forming the small knot in the pit of your stomach. You felt the stir of the orgasm creeping, you don’t hold back any sounds.
His cock twitches at the sound of you. Throbbing against his jeans, begging to be freed and buried inside you.
“Bucky, I’m gonna cum,” You buck your hips against his lips, unexpectedly as he picks up the pace of his fingers and his tongue.
The grip on his hair tightens as you feel your walls closing around him. Waves of sensitivity and pleasure overtake you, leaving a whimpering mess. You finish around his fingers and his tongue is catching all the juices that surround the area. He hums sweetly at the taste of you.
Bucky's palms are rubbing your outer thighs, soothing and cooling you down from your high. You relax your grip and place them on the pool table, attempting to steady you breathing.
“You okay?” Bucky chuckles, standing up once more.
His facial hair glistened with your arousal. You look down at him still in his t-shirt and jeans, his flannel thrown on the floor during the heated make-out session. You glance down to see his bulge.
“Very okay.” You chuckle, flushed red cheeks and chest still rising and falling.
You reach for Bucky's belt, tugging it toward you. Your lips collide again, this time slower and more passionate- not as hungry and desperate. Your fingers undo his belt and unbutton his jeans.
Before you could reach inside and return the favor, he stops you.
“I want to be inside you.” Your nod, scooting back to the edge of the pool table.
Bucky pulls himself out, his cock dripping with precum. He was ready for you the moment you kissed him. He strokes himself, coating his precum around himself. Your heat aches at the sight of him.
Bucky runs the tip between your folds, gliding up and down, teasing you. You whine each time he passes your hole. He positions himself at your entrance, you wrap your arms around his neck, closing the gap between you. Bucky's low moan is music to your ears as he slides himself inside you.
He is much bigger than you had anticipated. His strokes are slow and deep, allowing your body to adjust to his size. Bucky's lips are attached to the crook of your neck, sucking and nipping lightly at the flesh, his tongue soothing the nips.
“You’re doing so well, baby, with my cock buried deep inside you,”
His praises make your stomach flutter and your back arch. Bucky takes the opportunity and lays you down. Only removing himself to climb on top of you. You feel the roughness of the felt against your bare ass, but not having time to dwell once his cock fills you again.
“There you go baby, nice and deep,”
Bucky gains more access to go deep and faster than before. Your hips dig into the pool table at the intensity of the strokes. You are a whimpering mess, legs wrapped around his waist, anchoring him inside you, fingers clawing at his lower back- begging for him to go deeper.
Bucky's grunts and curses are all you hear as you feel the familiar stirring in your lower abdomen.
Bucky's cock twitches and his strokes becoming lazier. Your hands leave his back as Bucky's hands reach for them. You interlock your fingers, and they rest above your head. The passion between you increases the faster his strokes become.
Each stroke grazing your g-spot, simulating you further.
“Bucky, I need-“ Your eyes roll back as one hand finds your clit, rubbing small circles around the nerve.
He knows your close, but he is almost there too. Bucky speeds up his thrusts, but not removing the stimulation around your clit. His grip on your hand tights as he brings to grunt and curse.
“Fuck!” He grunts.
Both of you reach your highs. You see stars as you’re being filled up by him. His fingers loosen their grip around you and your clit. You’re hips buck and your walls pulsating wildly, milking Bucky dry of his load.
The two of you are breathless and exhausted. Never once has a man been able to make you finish twice in one go-round. Bucky collapses next to you on the small pool table. You turn to face him, but he is already staring at you.
“You are absolutely incredible,” You breathe.
His cheeks darken with red and his hand cups your face once more, pulling you for another kiss. You pull away, staring at each other for what felt like forever. Bucky is taking in everything. Your eyes, your lips, the small drops of sweat that were around your forehead.
Number four: do NOT by any means, take a girl home.
“Come home with me?”
2K notes · View notes
not all who wander are lost.
summary. | He’s got your name on his tattoo, wearing the same damn clothes since three days ago. A bottle of gin in his hand, and you’d say he’s just wandering.
warnings. | Strangers to lovers, smut, naive reader, mentions of trauma, angst, fluff, slight violence, slight dub/con, slight blasphemy, drinking, DD/LG, daddy kink, corruption kink, ring/hand kink, size kink, creampie kink, teasing, spanking, choking, spitting, manhandling, praise, male masturbation, handjob, degradation, a bit of humiliation, oral sex, virginity loss, marking, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI.
word count. | 11k
pairings. | Daddy!Destroyer!Chris x Little!Reader.
a/n. | one of the few fics inspired/based off of chemtrails over the country club. please heed the warnings and don’t forget to reblog. ily! thank you so much to @dragon-of-dreams @mypoisonedvine @tenuntilfightcall and everyone else for helping me out with some information! and thank you to my bb sara @asadmarveltrashbag for beta-ing and being there for me during this insane month, ilysm!!
The first time he laid eyes on you, was six months ago.
Meadows like the ones that surround him only exist in movies and Instagram posts. But even those need editing for perfection. Yet, the ones around him made him feel as though he has camera lenses for his eyes. Each piece of grass is a beautiful green, and some had flowers between them. His thighs may hurt but the view is a reward for all the trouble he just went through. A cute cottage lies on the hill he stands on. It resembles one from a Pinterest board but he doesn’t mind.
Birds chirp, sheep bleat, cows low and chickens cluck amongst Ella Fitzgerald's rendition of Summertime. Chris walks a few more steps and onto the porch he goes. This isn’t his destination. Well, technically, it is. But he isn’t supposed to be knocking on your door like he is now, and his heart shouldn’t be beating out of his chest. To the right of this cottage — Chris’s right — is another cottage.
It’s more modern than he’d prefer it to be. It only looks so because inside lives a drug lord who is on the run. It’s truly unfortunate his girlfriend sold him out for immunity. He knocks on the wooden door and takes a step back. Who knows what kind of person is behind it. “Coming!” your sweet voice calls. Chris doesn’t let go of his grip on his gun that’s down the waist of his pants.
Even the sweetest seeming things can always end up being sour.
You struggle not to trip over your own dress. The tail of it drags behind you and sweeps the floor, too. But it makes you feel just like a princess, so you don’t care. On your hip is a basket, and inside is Cotton. Your bunny. She’s been your company for years, and you don’t know what you’d do without her. Barely anyone visits anymore, only because cars can’t handle the long drive up and many people hate nature. But when the occasional knock on your door echoes throughout the house, you can barely keep your excitement inside.
You open the door and gasp. The man… is brooding. And he’s not the type of broody that would grumble insults under his breath or the type that would stalk people, either. He’s the dreamy type, the man your parents say is bad news when really he just needs love. You take in his form. You can tell he’s slightly tired and you just have to give him credit for walking up to your home. He has no flaws, except for the dirt that stains his clothing.
“Hi, do you live here?” the strange man asks, looking around the inside of your home. You jump and you’re not sure why but your skin raises with goosebumps. His voice is deep yet so soft-spoken. For some odd reason, his hand is reaching backwards and you assume that it’s because he has some sort of ache from the walk. You finally register his words and look up at him.
“Y- yes, do you live here?” you stupidly ask. You don’t even realize what you just said until you noticed his puzzled look. “Oh, sorry,” you look down and notice that his black boots are covered in pollen, something that can be oh so bothersome. “‘S’alright, I was hiking a- and I don’t have anywhere to go… Do you think you could let me stay here?” he asks, letting go of the gun. “Uhm, s- sure, what’s your name?” you ask him, moving out of the way.
Naive, so fucking naive.
“Chris, what’s yours?” he asks, stepping inside. You give him your name and he nods. He goes to wipe his shoes on the rug in front of the door but there is no rug. You hand him a rag and he gratefully takes him, mumbling a small ‘thank you.’ “Are you a tourist?” you ask him, setting your basket down onto the floor. Cotton hops out of it and runs off to the kitchen, probably to chew on your apron. “No…” he solemnly answers. He hands you the rag back and you shyly take it.
“O- okay… Are you a photographer? I’ll tell you God’s truth, the most beautiful photos are taken when the sun rises, when it sets and when it’s raining,” you pointedly inform him. You drop the rag into your basket and turn back around, your dress spinning in a slight swirl. His eyes rake your body up and down, taking in every inch of your body. Red cloth with white polka dots covers your body and your mushroom earrings bring the entire outfit together. Chris has to assume that the heavens above or whatever the fuck else is there have handcrafted you to absolute perfection.
He’s never read any stories about Greek gods, but he knows that Zeus would be absolutely infatuated with you. He takes note of how your body tenses up when he makes eye contact with you, and he gives you a small smile.
“I’m not a photographer,” he clarifies, looking around. He can’t believe you let him in just like that, but the more he found, the more he understood why. A lonely, innocent little girl like you doesn’t have anyone to tell you right from wrong. “Then what are you, sir? Are you lost? I can call the Consulate if you’d like,” you offer, walking towards him. “I’m not lost… I’m a wanderer,” he whispers almost hesitatingly.
“But you only ever wander when you’re lost, no?” you confusingly ask him. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, before peering out of the window. Luckily, he has a direct view of the other cottage. He really did hit the jackpot. “Not all who wander are lost, little girl. Now tell me, why would you let a stranger inside your home?” he asks you.
Cotton hops from the kitchen to your bedroom, and you stand in place. “I… Well, I’m not sure. You didn’t give me any reason to not let you in or to make me believe you’re dangerous, sorry…” you shyly tell him. “Don’t apologize, just know that not everyone in this world is good. There’s always going to be someone with a little more darkness than the rest of us…”
Chris unzips his duffle bag, and you let out a giggle. “Quite ominous of you, but then again, it suits your whole aesthetic. The cool, bearded man, with his cool words,” you smile at him, but it carries a bit of sadness. “Treat this place as your own, make yourself at home. And if you need anything, I’m always here.”
Chris stays at the window for most of his days. Always with a pair of binoculars and a pack of saltine crackers. Sometimes, he pulls a juice bottle out of his duffle bag, You’ve countlessly offered him something that’s actually filling, such as angel cake and sandwiches. He rejects them all, and you wonder if he’s some sort of super-human. But technology hasn’t invented wireless technology yet, so it’s impossible.
“Uhm, Mr. Chris-Sir? I don’t think those crackers are good for you, they’re all you eat…” you sheepishly admit, carrying a cup of water to him. The mug has a little frog painted on it, but the green paint has chipped away over seven years. You set it down gently, onto the table next to him and Chris just stares out at the cottage. “Bird-watching is so cool, isn’t it? If you see a robin, let me know, they’re so beautiful,” you tell him, before walking off.
At first, he doesn’t take in your words. But once they’ve settled deep in his mind and sunk in, he realizes that you assume he’s bird-watching. He’d honestly take any other assumption, but at least you don’t know he’s spying on the criminal next door. He looks down at the table with a sigh and then notices what you’ve done. Not only did you set a cup of water down, but you also gave him two slices of toast. One has strawberry jam on it, and the other has melted butter.
His mouth surprisingly salivates, but it also doesn’t shock him. Every day he sits there, basking in the beautiful smell of your food and humming. His personal favourite is the smell of focaccia bread being baked. He watches and waits until you leave the room to go tend to the chickens. Apparently, one of them laid a few eggs. He quickly shovels the two slices of toast into his mouth and downs the glass of water like a starved man. Because he is one.
Cotton hopes around once again but all Chris sees is a fluffy white blur. He recalls his memories from when he was younger. Younger him always wanted a pet. Even a fish that would die in the span of two weeks would suffice. But his mom couldn’t afford it, so he dropped the idea. Sometimes, he wishes he had dropped other ideas, as well. Like the idea that he’d enjoy life as an undercover agent, or the idea of sacrificing himself for Erin.
His fingers are sticky with jam. He hates the feeling. He spreads his fingers out and goes to get up from his seat. “Shit,” he curses, realizing that something may happen while he’s away from the window. He stands there, contemplating whether or not he should risk his mission just to wash the fucking jam off of his stupid fucking hands. He calls your name, loudly, hoping you’ll hear him all the way outside the cottage.
“Is everything alright?” you shout, running inside the house. He didn’t expect that reaction, but he’ll take it. You’re holding onto the corner of two walls, slightly bent over. Your chest, your beautiful chest, is the first thing Chris lays his eyes on. He nearly chokes on his saliva, and he just can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. “Uh, hi, I need help,” he gruffly says, his voice a bit deeper than usual. He clears his throat with a loud ‘ahem’ and you begin to stand up straight, much to his dismay.
But he doesn’t think the image of your tits nearly falling out of your dress will leave his mind any time soon.
“Of course… Did you enjoy the toast? I can make you some more if you’d like,” you shyly offer him. “It was good, but I’m fine, thanks though. Can you stay here, right at the window, while I go wash my hands? If anything happens, you have to tell me.” Chris doesn’t leave any room for argument, but your curiosity and naivety get the best of you as always.
“What happens if I don’t tell you?” you ask him, walking towards the window. He blocks your path and suddenly personal space is no longer a thing you need. “You don’t want to know what I’m gonna do if you don’t, little girl,” he warns with a hint of lust in his tone. You nod your head and feel tingles bloom just above your core. You’re not sure whether they’re butterflies or those tingles.
Chris walks past you and you quickly rush to the window. You never realized how beautiful this view is until now. The sun is bright, angled in the most perfect manner so that it doesn’t shine directly in your eyes. The sky is so clear, even with the occasional fluffy cloud that always manages to look like some animal. The window blows gently, shaking the sheer curtains that frame you. You sigh and fold your arms, resting them on the windowsill.
You lay your head on your arms and stare out the window with joy filling your heart.
Chris watches you as you look out the window. You’re slightly bent over, once again. Your ass sticks out, and you subconsciously sway your hips side to side, almost purposefully teasing him. Your white dress has a few strings hanging from the hem, but it doesn’t make you look any less gorgeous. He feels like he’s in a dream.
Not only because of the beautiful scenery, and the beautiful woman in front of him but also because he’s trying his hardest to wash his hands quickly, but his movements are so slow. He looks down and rubs his hands together at a furious pace. Chris hears you gasp and he looks up. “Did you see something?” he asks you, turning off the sink.
“Yeah, my neighbour! I haven’t seen him in months, I need to go say hi,” you tell Chris, before rushing out the door. He only then registers your words once you’ve run out of the house and into the unknown. “Fuck- Wait!” he yells after you. He runs behind you and is so grateful when he notices you haven’t gone too far. But you’re still running and Chris’s target is about ten meters away, so he decides to do what he does best.
He decides to save you.
Chris’s feet hit the ground harshly, crushing the flowers beneath him. Running in socks isn’t fun, but at least he has something to protect him. He calls your name and crashes into you with all the force in his body. You both go down and hit the ground from his fierce tackling technique. You go to cry out in pain and lose your mind, but Chris clams his hand over your mouth.
“Shh, be quiet. You’re not hurt, okay? I’m sorry I had to do that, but you can’t go running off like that,” he lectures, throwing his right leg over your body. He frames you down, and you don’t have much room to move. You’re frozen in place, chest heaving, and you furrow your eyebrows at his words.
“Listen, I need you to listen. You may not know me and I may not know you, but when I tell you to do something, you’re going to listen. Understood?” he chastised with a harsh tone. You nod meekly, like a little kid who just got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “And just so you know, that sweet neighbour of yours over there is wanted by the Feds.” Chris looks over his shoulder and doesn’t see the man there anymore, so he begrudgingly climbs off of your body.
You gulp thickly, out of fear and nervousness. Chris doesn’t seem to want to add on to this newfound information, so your anxiety makes work of it. For all you know, your neighbour could be a murderer. Chris senses your nervousness and gives you a pat on the head, almost as if you’re his pet.
Unbeknownst to you, the sight of you under him, helpless and with his hand clamped over your mouth is something that gets his blood (and hand) pumping. He helps you up, and you don’t even realize it until he brushes some dandelion seeds out of your hair. “Thank you… and thank you for saving me, I’m sorry I didn’t listen,” you shyly speak to him. He nods and shoves his hands into his pockets, finding an old cigarette from before he quit.
“‘S’alright, I just need a few things from you,” he gruffly reassured. “O- Of course, anything for my guest and for the man who saved my life,” you beam with a small giggle punctuating your words. He basks in it, almost as though it’s sunlight over a beach. “Ah, you flatter me. Just tell me about yourself, I’m going to be staying for a while,” he says as he turns around to walk back inside.
A bottle of gin is in Chris’s hands. The colourless yet pale yellow liquid swishes inside its rightful bottle. It’s half full, only because last night, he downed the rest. He hasn’t drunk in a while. Since he got over being left for dead. And that’s only six months ago.
He’s shirtless. Only left in his grey jeans and jewelry. His rings clink against the glass bottle and his bracelets hang a little past his wrist. The gunshot wound on his left side had a faint scar on it. He hates it. Every single time he stares in the mirror, that fucking scar just stares back at him.
His father told him it makes him seem more ‘manly’, but it just feels like a point of weakness. Maybe if he was a little quicker, he would’ve saved that bank teller. He would’ve gotten Silas behind bars. He would’ve been able to be proud of himself.
Chris groans at the memories and spins the cap off of the bottle. It flies somewhere across the room, probably hitting one of the wood walls. He mumbles a ‘fucking hell’ and brings the bottle to his lips. The last time he drank like this was three months ago, and he ended up fucking the bartender.
She was bent over the counter, her tits spilled out of her bra and his cock pummeled into her sloppily.
She ended up kicking him out after they were done.
Chris groans again and sits down on the bed, kicking his legs up. His pants are stained with the pigment of dandelions and grass. The splotchy stains are juxtaposed to the grey of his old jeans. They have wear and tear all over them, but he doesn’t care.
Every now and then, he sighs — he sighs quite deeply. The puffs of air come from deep inside his chest. He tilts his head back and stares up at the ceiling, thinking back to earlier today. He smiles to himself, recalling the way you looked so innocent beneath him.
He’s only known you for a few days, and he already has lewd thoughts for you. Fuck. He just can’t help himself, though. Especially with your innocent doe eyes and pretty little dresses. He closes his eyes slowly, using that memory to fuel his much-needed mental images.
You’re beneath him once again, but you’re naked. His hand is wrapped around your throat, and he’s naked too. His cock is slowly driving in and out of you. He’s teasing you. Your pulsating, wet walls hug his fat cock, and you’re both moaning softly.
“Daddy…” you whisper to him, clenching around his cock. “What’s wrong, baby?” he softly asks you. “Please fuck me harder, please, Daddy,” you beg to him, before biting down onto your bottom lip. “I don’t think you’ll be able to take my cock like that, baby,” he shakes his head.
“I can take it, Daddy, I’m your good girl.”
Chris opens his eyes and his right hand has found its way down his boxers. His cock is all swollen and hard, hard as a rock. He places the bottle of gin down on the bedside table and gets himself all comfortable. Chris slowly begins to stroke himself gently. He goes from the base all the way to the top, and then back down. His thumb occasionally swipes against his leaking tip and all he can think of is teaching you how to make him — your Daddy — feel good.
“Fuck, baby,” he moans, feeling a vein throat against his hand. He moans your name and speeds up his movements. His fingers are slightly sticky, but it’s the type of sticky he doesn’t mind. He begins to slow his hand down, and he sighs, not wanting to come just yet. He hasn’t been this hard in ages, and touching himself feels so fucking good.
“Did you say my name? Is everything alright?” you ask, barging into his room. He jumps and his hand flies out of his pants. You both stare at each other, not even daring to blink. You eventually break eye contact and notice the bottle of gin sitting on the bedside table. There’s only a sixth of it left, and you frown. You don’t like it when people you care about drink. “Uhm…” he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck and then takes in your form.
You’re in a nightgown, and it’s sheer as fuck. The gin gets to him and his mind has a slight buzz to it. His heart beats rapidly and his cock throbs with want and need. Chris’s eyes rake up and down your body like how they usually do whenever you’re in front of him. His mother would scold him for ogling at you, but he just doesn’t care anymore.
“I- I am so so so sorry, I should’ve knocked. I just thought you needed help with something because I heard you say my name, but sometimes I just tend to hear random things, so sorry,” you apologize in a panicking manner. You slowly walk back to the door, but you don’t turn around. Your bare feet leave a faint imprint on the floor from the cold sweats that have taken over your body.
“Come back here,” he orders, sitting up on the bed. Chris’s unbuckled belt clanks quietly, and he begins to remove it in one quick motion. You gulp thickly and exhale shakily. You slowly walk to where Chris is sitting, and he pats the spot next to him. You’ve never had such an interaction with anyone, ever. You sit down next to him, but you keep your distance.
Alcohol should not be called alcohol in Chris’s utmost humble opinion. No, it should just stick to its nickname ‘liquid courage’ because it’s more accurate than anything else. He may not seem like it, but he’s just a man who doesn’t have the heart to do much. Adrenaline doesn’t exist for him anymore, not since the incident.
Chris turns his head and stares at your pretty face. You look down, unable to make eye contact with such a God-like man. You have to assume that even Apollo is envious of Chris’s beauty. “How’d you hear me? Because I know these walls aren’t thin enough, and I know I wasn’t being loud, so tell me; How’d you hear me?” he interrogates you like one of Silas’s companions, but this time is slightly different.
Lust is what’s pumping through his veins, not rage.
“Uhm, well… My room was right there, and I wasn’t doing anything but thinking, and since your bed is against the wall, I- I heard you say my name,” you explain shyly. He hums, and you’re not sure whether it’s a hum of delight or disbelief. “Thinking of what?” he presses, inching his body closer to yours.
You continue to stare at his hand, even though you can feel his heavy breathing against your face. “I… Well- I was uh,” you stutter embarrassingly, and it makes you burn up with shame. “Spit it out, little girl, and don’t think of lying to me,” he growls, placing his hand on your thigh. Your gaze follows his movements, and you take in the set of rings that adorn his fingers.
They’re all black and of similar styles. One has a skull, one is completely plain, one has a cross on it and the last one has the word ‘Daddy’ engraved on it. His veins are so prominent. They bulge out with intensity, and you’d just love to trail your fingers along each of them. “Am I going to have to force an answer out of you?” he roughly asks. His other hand goes to the back of your head and he brings your gaze to his face.
You quickly shake your head in objection, and he raises his eyebrows for you to spit your answer out. “I was thinking about you, and the way you tackled me…” you admit to him in a low and soft voice. “You liked the way I was on you, little girl?” he asks, moving his hand to the back of your neck. “Y- Yeah, made me feel all… Tingly…” you whisper to him.
“I want to hear you say it, little girl,” Chris ushers, squeezing the back of your neck slightly. “I liked the way you were on top of me…” you tell him breathlessly. “Good girl,” he praises in a slightly deep voice. He pulls you onto his lap and you gasp. His hard, wanting cock is right under your thighs, and you exhale nervously.
“You feel that, little girl? That’s all because of you, you did this to me. And you’re proud of it, aren’t you? Got me so fucking hard just because of you.” Chris squeezes your waist, and you really can feel it all. He’s not wrong, either. You’re so proud that you’ve made a man like him so desperate for you. “Do you know what I was doing, little girl? I was jerking off to the thought of fucking that cunny of yours until you’re begging me to stop,” he growls in your ear.
You moan softly, and the picture comes to mind, making your pussy gush with want. “Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asks, placing his hand on your inner thigh. You nod, and he raises his eyebrows in warning again. “Yeah, I want that so bad,” you murmur to him. You and your pussy want him so bad. Chris’s hand inches further up your thighs until he’s just an inch away from your bare pussy.
Your thighs are already slightly sticky from your arousal. “Do you know what jerking off is, little girl?” he asks, pulling his hand away from your pussy. You hold back a pathetic, child-like whine, and he begins to lift up your nightgown until he sees your naked body. “Kind of… Isn’t that when a man touches himself? Like how women touch their… down there?” you innocently ask him.
Chris chuckles at how cute you are. So innocent yet oh so slutty. “Have you ever touched yourself, little girl?” he asks, lifting the nightgown over your head. It’s strewn across the floor behind you, and neither of you cares. But you quickly use your hands to cover your most precious, most private parts. “No, no, I don’t want to see any of that. You’re so beautiful, baby, you’re built like an absolute angel,” he husks, and you feel so flustered that you can’t help but giggle.
“T- Thank you… And I’ve done it a few times,” you inform him. Chris nods and smirks, catching the way your nipples have pebbled up. “Have you ever made someone feel good before?” he questions, trailing his broad hands up and down your body. “N- No, it’s pretty lonely up here…” you almost-ashamedly admit. He coos at you. “Do you want me to teach you how to make me feel good, little girl?” he questions, palming your tits.
You moan softly and rub your thighs together as he pinches and pulls at your hard nipples. You’re so small in his large hands, it makes him even harder. You nod your head fervently, wanting to make Chris feel so fucking good. Chris takes his hands away from your body and shifts you in his lap. He reaches down his pants and pulls his cock out of his boxers.
You gasp, having never seen something as big as that. He smirks and uses his right hand to grasp the base of his thick cock. Chris brings your dominant hand down to where his cock is and guides you to wrap your fingers around him. Chris shudders at your soft touch, and he moans softly. “Good girl, yeah,” he praises. “Wrap your hand around me a bit tighter, baby,” he urges, and you do exactly that.
He groans loudly and a small smile stretches across your lips. “N- Now, you’ve got to move your hand up and down. Start off slowly, go all the way to the tip, and then back down,” he instructs, even though he’s helping you out. His hand brings yours all the way to the tip, and then back down; just like he said. His hand leaves yours and goes back to feeling up your pretty body.
“Now do it by yourself, but in a twisting motion, little girl.”
You listen to his words and jerk him off, feeling yourself get wet as his cock twitches in your hand. Your clit throbs and so do the veins on the side of his shaft. Chris curses, and you bite down on your bottom lip. “Good girl, just like that. Fuck, your hand feels so good around me,” he moans, squeezing your waist. You focus on his cock, watching as pre-cum leaks from the tip and down the side of his dick.
It drips onto your slow-moving hand, and you exhale as your movements grow a bit faster. You look at him, watching as his pupils darken with lust. You can tell — it’s written on his face — he wants you to go faster. Your hand speeds up around his cock, making him a moaning mess. “Fuck, you’re such a good fucking girl. You like making me feel good, don’t you? So eager to please like the good little girl you are,” Chris husks.
His praise goes straight to your needy cunt and he knows this because he can just tell. Your thighs rub together, your breath hitches, you let out a giggle and squeeze a little tighter around his cock. Chris’s hand goes up to your head and smashes your lips against his. You both moan into the kiss, and you straddle both his thighs to get more comfortable.
You place your other hand on his cock and mimic your dominant hand’s movements. You try to keep up with the kiss, but you just can’t. Teeth clash and so do tongues as Chris moves his mouth against yours. He pants and his chest heaves as you continue to stroke him. “Go faster, baby,” he urges, and he pulls his mouth away from yours. He can feel you soaking his jeans, your wetness joining the abundant amount of rips and tears in the material.
Your hand moves faster, twisting perfectly and occasionally squeezing his most sensitive spots as well. Chris pushes your hands away abruptly, and you’re confused. Did you do something wrong? Does he not like you anymore? What happened? “Shit, wrap your mouth around the tip, little girl. Trust me, you’re gonna fucking love it,” he says, and you quickly do so.
You’ll do anything to please him. His mushroom tip is leaking and a raging red. It’s the same red as the rest of his cock, and you could swear it’s almost purplish. You can tell he’s aching because you’ve been through a similar thing. You drop down to the floor and kneel in front of Chris. Your lips smooth around the tip of his hard cock, and you can taste him as soon as he hits your tongue.
He tastes of musk and manliness, along with a hint of saltiness, and it’s oh so addicting. You keep the tip of his cock in your mouth like it’s one of your favourite lollipops and smile around him. Chris smiles and wraps his hand around himself. He jerks himself off quickly, desperate to come in your mouth. “Fucking shit– god, you’re such a good fucking girl,” Chris rasps as he reaches his climax.,
His balls tighten up and his blue eyes roll back into his skull. White, hot, thick ropes of cum shoot out of his tip and fill your mouth. You’re not sure why, but a moan escapes past your throat, and it only makes Chris’s high much better. Chris places both hands on the sides of your head and holds you there, gently. You swallow all his cum as it fills your mouth and leaks from the corners of your lips.
Chris so desperately wants to push your head farther down his cock, but he knows he shouldn’t. Plus, there’s always going to be more time for things like that. He pulls your head away from his cock and watches as a string of saliva tries to keep the two of you connected. You gently lick your lips, still savouring his taste and he smiles down at you. You can’t lie — you feel giddy. Giddy in a way in which you crave his praise and approval like no other.
“You’re such a good girl, you know that? Thank you for helping me out… I do suppose I should return the favour, right?” he teasingly says, lifting you up into his lap. You shake your head out of nervousness. “No? … Why not, baby?” Chris asks, and you gulp thickly. “Don’t wanna rush it… I- never mind, you wouldn’t understand,” you look down and fiddle with your fingers.
The grooves of your nails are smoothed over by your pointer finger. Some dips and rises make you cringe, and others satisfy you. He looks down at your hands and notices the skin picked on the sides. He knows how painful those can be, and he doesn’t want you to feel any pain at all. “I’ll try to understand, darling, but if you don’t tell me, then I’ll be completely clueless,” he speaks to you lowly. “I like the way your words make me feel…” you shyly admit to him.
“Aw, how do they make you feel, baby?” Chris presses, grasping your two hands together. “All warm and small… makes me feel like I have it all. Hey, that rhymes!” you exclaim, bubbling in the utmost adorable giggles ever. “You’re a natural poet, darling. But tell me more…” he urges, rubbing his coarse thumbs against your soft skin. “I get butterflies, and I feel all shy and safe. Your words make me so comfortable yet so vulnerable…” you describe to him even though words can’t describe what you feel.
“Is that right, baby? You’re so cute… Do you- Do you get all tingly and babyish when I use my words?” Chris hesitatingly asks. His voice is so gentle and soft, a low whisper that is so soothing to your ears and rough edges. You nod meekly and smile to yourself. Your cheeks may hurt from all the laughter he caused earlier today but that doesn’t refrain you from hiding your smile.
Now, Chris is no doctor. He’s no professional, he’s no master. He’s just a broken man, but he knows exactly what you’re talking about. But he won’t explain what it is, because he needs you to learn on your own. Maybe with some guidance from him, but he won’t trick you into thinking something completely off base.
“Let’s get cleaned up, okay? Then we’ll sleep, you need the rest. We both do.”
He’s got your name on his tattoo, wearing the same damn clothes since three days ago. A bottle of gin in his hand, and you’d say he’s just wandering. But he isn’t. He was never. The stick-and-poke tattoo may seem a bit much, but he doesn’t regret it one bit. Your name is written in your pretty handwriting. The ink is in his skin, and he’s practically marked as yours, now.
The days go by slower, much slower than he’d like them to. But it doesn’t matter now, because his mission is over, and he’ll be leaving soon. But Chris doesn’t want to leave. His wanderlust has found an end as he finally has a place where he’s meant to be. He’s found heaven in the hills, and between your legs.
“D- Daddy…” you whisper under your breath, loud enough for him to hear. Your hands are locked with his, and they rest at your sides. You’re just in a small bralette, and your hard nipples poke through the fabric. Your legs are thrown over his shoulders and your ankles lace together behind his head. Your neck aches from the angle your body is in, but the pleasure blooming from your core is much more powerful.
Chris is between your legs, and he hums against your wet, throbbing pussy. You moan loudly and squeeze your eyes shut from the feeling. He sucks on your clit harshly, and wetness seeps from your hole. “Feels so good… Oh, my…” you pant. Your hips gyrate and you subconsciously grind your wet cunt against Chris’s face. He pulls his face away from your pussy and licks a broad stripe against you.
You moan again and squeeze his hands tighter. His tongue swirls around your swollen and throbbing clit, bringing you closer and closer to your release. Your taste is addictive, and he could stay between your legs for hours on end, if not for eternities. His beautiful, lovely rings dig into the sides of your fingers, but you don’t care. Chris may treat you like a delicate doll, but he should know how much you love it when he’s rough with you.
“I think I’m gonna come, Daddy…” you cry out to him before a strangled moan leaves your mouth. Chris pulls away from your pussy once again, but this time he spits on your lips. His saliva drops down your cunt and mixes with your wetness, and he goes back to devouring you. He eats you out like a starved man, and you’re squealing at the overwhelming pleasure.
If he was on death row, he’d have your sweet pussy as his last meal.
His tongue works over your clit and brings you closer and closer to your release. It’s coming fast. A searing, heated feeling takes over your body and abdomen as your back arches off your couch. Chris is as hard as a rock, staring you directly in the eyes, and he makes you come on his mouth.
“Oh- Daddy!” you cry out loudly, your mouth falling open into a silent, voiceless scream. Your eyes roll back into your skull and in Chris’s past words, you look like a brain-dead slut. Your wetness gushes out of your drooling hole, and he laps it all up with no problem. He drinks up everything you give him, and then some. Your hands are still laced with his and your chest rises and falls at a fast pace.
“Shh… You did amazing, little one. Taste so fucking sweet, just like nectar,” he hums like a hummingbird, before smacking his lips. You slowly come down from your high as he strokes your hands with his thumbs. Your lids are slightly heavy, but you don’t want to get any shut-eye. Time away from Chris is practically a sin in your eyes. “Thank you, Daddy,” you gratefully reply.
“You’re welcome, little one. Got me so hard,” he husks as he moves to get up. He carefully handles your body and pulls out a handkerchief from the pocket of his jeans. They’ve been washed and scrubbed but there are still faint dandelion and pollen stains that he just doesn’t care enough about. Though the adorable face you were making whilst washing them is something that’ll never leave his mind.
Just like the mental image of you coming undone beneath him.
“Can I make you feel good, Daddy? Pretty please?” you ask sweetly and Chris knows he could say yes, but he doesn’t want to. Making you feel good pleases him, but he doesn’t want to sound so poetic so he chuckles. “Soon, little one, I need to clean you up properly,” he tells you and you jut your bottom lip out, pouting. He coos at you and you scrunch your nose up at the attention.
“But I’m all clean, Daddy!” you reason, reaching over to palm his hard cock through his jeans. Chris chokes on his saliva at the feeling of your touch. “In a bit, little one, you need to listen to Daddy. Okay?” he rasps with a warning in his voice. “Okay, Dada…” you trail off with a deep sigh punctuating your sentence. You fiddle with your fingers as Chris carefully cleans up your pussy.
The damp washcloth is gentle against your sensitive skin. Each movement of his is carried by gentleness and love. “I have a question, Daddy,” you hum after a few seconds of silence. “Go ahead, mushy one,” he says with a smile. You giggle at the nickname before calming yourself down. “Were you really wandering?” you bluntly ask him. Chris’s eyes nearly fall out of their sockets, and you gasp.
“What do you mean, little one?” he asks, looking up at you. “Well… You said you were a wanderer! And that’s how you found me! But you don’t seem like a wanderer, you’re too clever to be one,” you explain with a smile on your face. Chris begins to chew on the inside of his cheek, and the skin has already been filled with bite marks and scars. At this point, he should tell you, right? You already know the deepest, most darkest pieces and part of him.
You’ll love him no matter what.
“Well, I wasn’t wandering. You’re so smart, little one. The smartest baby in the world!” he cheers and moves to get up. He sits in the empty spot next to you and lifts you into his lap. You’re still naked and Chris has his shirt off (as usual), so the skin-on-skin contact has you feeling even sleepier. “Sometimes, we lie to protect people. I lied, to protect you, along with many other people. Myself included, of course,” he starts.
“I was sent here with the sole purpose of bringing in your criminal neighbour,” he pauses “and I did.” You nod along with his words, your mind only allowing the most important phrases to sink in. “I arrested him around a month ago, and I was supposed to leave three weeks ago,” he sadly sighs. You look up in a panic, and you’re in shock. “Two weeks ago, I turned in my resignation. I’m not going anywhere,” he quickly adds and your face lights up.
“I’m staying with my best girl, okay?” Chris smiles and leans in to kiss you. You let him do so because God-damn, you’d let him do anything he wants to you. “T- Thank you so much, Daddy!” you squeal and hug him tightly. He laughs in a beautiful cacophony of sounds, and it’s right in your ear.
Chris feels a weight being lifted off his shoulders as you writhe around in his arms. You wiggle around on his hard cock and Chris suppresses a groan. His hands trail from your shoulders to your waist, down to your hips. Goosebumps erupt on your skin and excitement runs in your veins at his touch. Your head rolls back and you exhale shakily. He grips your hips tightly, and you involuntarily buck your hips against his crotch.
Both you and Chris moan before he moves both his hands to your ass. He gropes you roughly, feeling a bit of your wetness on his fingers. “Oh, baby… What’s all that for? Hm? Didn’t Daddy just eat your sweet little pussy out?” he asks in a slightly worried tone. “Y- Yeah… But I can’t help it, Daddy, you always make me so tingly…” you admit to him, shyly.
“Mmm, I like knowing I do this to you. Gets me so fucking hard,” he groans, slapping your ass. You yelp in surprise, but it gets cut off by a whimper. Chris caresses the hit skin and soothes you down from the shock. He smiles at you and then lands another hit. Then another, and then another.
The sting is addictive, just like he is. It leaves you writhing in both pain and pleasure and yet you still want more. “M- more, please,” you quietly beg and Chris coos at you as if you're a pet. And the truth isn’t far off. The coolness of his rings is both brutal and comforting. It soothes you yet acts as if they didn’t just hurt you. “You want more, baby?” he asks in that sweet yet sultry condescending tone of his.
You nod your head and chew on your bottom lip. “‘S too bad you’re gonna have to take what I give you and keep quiet, baby,” he husks, and you whine loudly. Chris flips your bodies around and suddenly you’re on your back, and he’s leaning over you. He locks lips with you and you try your hardest to keep up with the kiss.
His lips move sloppily against yours, but you don’t mind because you’ll take anything he gives you. You moan into true kiss and Chris wedges his knee between your legs. You’d hump him like a bunny because that’s what the demon on your shoulder is telling you to do. But the last time you did something without his permission, you weren’t allowed to make him come for a week.
You just know you’re soaking his jeans but neither of you cares. Chris kisses the corner of your mouth and trails down to your neck, peppering kisses behind as if he’s leaving a trail on your body for when he’s going to explore you later. The stubble on his cheeks and jaw tickles you and Chris falls even more in love with you as your laughter fills the air.
“D- Dada…” you whisper to him as you tilt your head back. His lips land on that sweet spot of yours and your back arches off the couch. Chris smiles against your skin and begins to suck on that sweet spot. Your breath hitches as he bites, licks and sucks on your skin. He marks you up like no other, and you know how much he loves to know that you’re all his.
“Dada… No teasing, please,” you sweetly ask in your soft tone. And how can he turn you down? “In a bit, little girl, be patient for Daddy.” Chris continues to mark you up until he’s satisfied. The feeling of his teeth against your neck and collar bones makes you even wetter than you already are. Possessiveness is carried in his movements, and it only drives you to be needier.
Chris moves further down from your collar bones to the valley of your breasts. Each curve of yours makes him want to sin without any repentance afterwards. He places a kiss there and then looks up at you. “Please, Daddy,” you whisper so quietly it takes him a few seconds to realize what you’ve said. Chris’s hand wraps around your body to your back.
He slowly unclasps your bralette and drags it away from your body at the same pace. You both maintain eye contact all whilst he undresses you to your vulnerability. Chris throws your bra somewhere behind him and places his hands on your body. “Aw, baby… You’re so cute and small,” he sweetly says in an almost shocking manner. Almost as if he doesn't use the size difference as a weapon to make you all soft and mushy.
“Hm, thank you, Daddy,” you tell him because good girls always have manners. “So good, using your manners for Daddy,” he praises, and you wonder if he can read your mind. Your Daddy can do anything, so it would be no surprise if he can. Chris sits upon his knees, but he remains in his towering position. Gently, and with care, he spreads your legs open until he’s satisfied.
He watches as you clench your needy pussy. He just knows your clit is throbbing, and you’re tingly because he just has that effect on you. “Poor baby… Is this all for Daddy?” he asks, and you quickly nod. “Say it, tell me it’s all because of me,” he growls placing his hands on your thighs. Chris slowly moves his hands further down your thighs. His touch is gentle, and he can feel the goosebumps on your thighs beginning to raise.
“‘S all yours, daddy. It’s all because of you,” you tell him breathlessly. “And this pussy is all mine, isn’t it, little girl?” he asks, inching closer to your wet pussy. “Mhm, only yours, Daddy!” you happily assure him, and he smirks at you. “That’s right, little girl. And since it’s all mine, doesn’t that mean I can do whatever I want with it?” he questions, and you nod with no hesitance at all.
Chris traces your wet pussy with his ring-donned pointer finger. “Oh my…” you gasp at the feeling. It may not be much, but your sensitive little pussy struggles to handle it. You clench around nothing again, and he watches, before chuckling at you. “Such a pretty pussy you have, baby, I can’t fucking wait to ruin it,” Chris growls, and you whimper. “Gonna fill you up with my cum after I fuck you, little girl,” he promises, and you never wanted to be fucked so badly until now.
He wonders if his cock could even fit inside you. Usually, he’d want to eat you out and finger you to prepare you. But he’s now thinking with what’s between his legs, and not what’s between his ears. He trails that same pointer finger on your pussy, and becomes mesmerized with the sight. Chris watches as your hole drools with want and need, whilst you watch him.
His already dark eyes are blown out with lust, and it only turns you on even more. Chris knows you’re watching him. He’s not one of the best agents in the FBI for no reason. He looks up at you, and you lock eyes with each other. He smirks and pulls his hand away from your pussy. You hold back a whine, but you still pout in disappointment. Chris begins to unbuckle his pants, and you’re filled with eagerness.
You smile widely, and he coos. “Aw, you’re such a desperate little slut, it’s adorable,” he chuckles, and you shy away. He pulls down his jeans along with his boxers slowly. Chris takes off his jeans and boxers completely, and throws them somewhere around the house. You watch as his cock bounces up and leaks with pre-cum. You just know he’s aching because of how red his cock is.
He’s big, and you already know that. But seeing him in all his naked glory is just something else. The simple yet not so simple idea of Chris’s cock being inside of you is electrifying. It’s both terrifying and exciting. He grabs the base of his cock and the prickly hair pokes the soft skin of his hands, but he doesn’t care. His left hand goes back to your pussy, and begins to rub circles on your clit.
“Oh… Daddy,” you moan quietly. The pleasure is almost overwhelming, so you involuntarily try to shut your legs and keep Chris out. Your knees touch for a brief moment, and he’s having none of that. He separates your legs and climbs on top of you, all while staring you directly in the eyes. His cock drags against your inner thigh. “Oh, is it too much for you, little one?” he asks with faux pity in his tone. You nod and clench your fists to control yourself.
“Too fucking bad, you’re gonna take whatever I give you, and you’re not gonna complain. Isn’t that right, little girl?” he sneers, and you gasp. Usually, you can’t handle someone who raises their voice in the slightest. But hearing Chris do it makes the butterflies in your stomach fly. “Yes, Daddy,” you hum delightfully, and he smiles. “Good girl,” he praises. Chris presses harder on your sensitive pearl of nerves and rubs you in faster circles.
“Daddy…” You moan and it goes straight to his cock. He looks up at you and just knows you’re beginning to drive up that cliff. He slows down his ministrations on your nub, and you bite back a loud whine. “You’re so needy, baby… Already so close to coming, it’s kind of pathetic…” he trails off and more wetness leaks out of you. You’re absolutely soaked and are a little bit ashamed of it.
“Please, Daddy! I’m so close, I’ll do anything,” you beg, but he just doesn’t buy it. “You’ll already do anything I tell you, baby, begging is so useless,” Chris chortles. You let out a small huff and move your hips in a circle, grinding against his thumb. In a flash of blurry moments, Chris pulls his hand away from your pussy and wraps around your neck. He squeezes the sides of your throat, and you gasp quite loudly.
He raises his eyebrow in warning, and you nod in understanding. “Good girl, I don’t want to put you over my knee when I’m feeling so gracious,” he assures, and you smile. Chris brings the tip of his cock to your swollen, needy clit and his pre-cum begins to mix with your wetness. You both moan softly as he rubs his tip on your clit. Your bottom lip finds a home between your teeth and Chris’s tongue swipes over his.
The sight and feeling of his cock on your silky pussy make him so weak in the knees. “Fuck, baby, do you like that? You like it when Daddy makes you feel good with his cock?” Chris asks in a deep, gravelly voice. “Yeah, Daddy… love it so much…” you tell him through a mushy haze of pleasure.
“You’re getting all dumb and stupid already? You’re so cute, little one,” he purrs, and you giggle at his words even though there’s nothing funny about them. “Do you want my cock, little baby? Say it, tell Daddy you want his cock,” he urges, and you look down to where you’re both nearly connected.
“I wan’ your cock, Daddy. Want it so bad, I need it, Daddy,” you beg, and Chris hums. “Just a little more, little girl, it’s like music to my ears,” he smirks, and you bite your bottom lip. “Sing for me, hummingbird,” he pushes, and you just go with whatever your neediness tells you to do.
“I wanna feel your cock deep inside me, Daddy. I want your cum to fill me up until I’m leaking and all stupid. Please, Daddy, please fuck me. I really want your cock, I need it,” you beg and blood rushes to his face and cock. “Fuck, yeah, I’ll give you my fucking cock, and you better take it like the good girl you are,” he growls, and you whimper. Chris slowly drags the fat tip of his shaft down to your drooling, slutty hole.
You whimper loudly, and he looks back at you. Fear is written all over that pretty face of yours, and Chris knows the exact reason why. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll be gentle, okay? If you want to stop just say so, and I’ll listen. I won’t hurt you, darling. I promise,” he gently reassures you. You sigh with an almost heavy yet full heart.
You then nod and Chris thanks you for allowing him to fully make you his. “Wanna hold your hand, Dada… Please,” you ask pleasantly, and he nods. “In a bit, little girl, I just need to be careful,” he whispers. Chris slowly begins to push into your wet, tight cunt. You swallow him slowly, and the sight is mesmerizing.
The tightness of your cunt squeezes him in a strong hug, and he wishes he could be buried deep inside you for the rest of his life. “Fuck- Baby, you feeling so fucking good,” he moans while trying to compose himself. You’re still whimpering from the pain, and your chest is rising and falling at a fast pace.
“C- Can I push all the way in, little one? It’ll only hurt for a bit,” he asks, and he looks deep into your eyes. “Mhm… Wanna feel your cock deep inside me, Daddy, please,” you beg, and Chris tries his hardest not to come right here, right now. He thrusts his hips forward, and bottoms out inside you completely.
Your mouth falls open, and you’re silently screaming. The pain isn’t too much, but you feel as though the wind is being knocked out of you. Chris shifts a bit, and that’s when you start to feel it more. He’s so deep inside you, and he’s splitting you in two. “Breathe, baby, breathe,” he says.
You realize you’re holding your breath and it’s no wonder why your heart was beating out of your chest. “You’re doing so- so well, darling. Your little cunny looks so nice when it’s stuffed full with my cock,” he groans, and you whimper. “Dada, is hurtin’...” you whisper, and Chris wants to pull out because he can’t stand the thought of his little girl being hurt.
“Do you want me to stop, little one?” he asks, but you quickly shake your head in objection. Even though the pressure in your core is dwindling, and even though you feel a little too full, you don’t want him to stop. “No stopping, Daddy, please,” you whine and flail your arms towards him. He shushes you soothingly, and you calm down as soon as he flashes a stern look.
The pain soon burns away into nothing but dust and ash, and you finally see why he was so desperate to shove his cock inside of your cunt. It turns into pleasure and your pussy leaks around him. You’re soaking Chris’s cock with no shame at all. “Oh, fuck, baby… You feel so fucking good,” he moans, and you follow with a gasp. “I like the way y- you feel inside me, Daddy, makes me all tingly…” you admit shyly, and Chris chuckles.
“Yeah? Bet it makes you want to be fucked stupid, right, baby?” he questions with a playful smirk on his face. “Yes, Daddy,” you moan. You’re never aware of your surroundings because you’re too caught up in the moments. It’s something Chris scolds you for, but you never learn. But in this moment, you can feel everything. The veins on his cock throb against your silky walls, and you can feel his balls against your ass. His hot breath fans over you as Chris struggles to compose himself.
He slowly drags his hips backwards, pulling out of your pussy until his tip is the only thing in your cunt. The sudden almost-emptiness is surprising, but you quickly get used to it. Chris then pushes back into your pussy, and you moan loudly. “Fucking hell, little one,” he curses under his breath as he bottoms out again. He begins to fuck into you slowly and gently, careful to not hurt you. Even if he wants to fuck you until you’re crying.
The sound of skin on skin is quiet and almost unintelligible. The squelching sounds from your wet pussy and moans fill the room. Chris gently grips your hips and watches as your face contorts into a frown of pleasure and not pain. “Daddy…” you pant softly as you look up at Chris. “Yeah, baby? Am I hurting you?” he asks out of worry. “N-No, it feels so good…” you trail off as one particular thrust lands near your g-spot. And he knows that.
“Wan’ you to fuck me hard, wan’ you to destroy me, Daddy. Please fuck me like the slut I am…” you gently beg and Chris halts his thrusts. His cock twitches inside of you because of your words. Only he can corrupt an innocent angel such as yourself. “Shit- Little one, I don’t want to hurt you, that’s why I’m being so gentle,” Chris explains, but you shake your head. “You could never hurt me, Daddy. Please, I need you,” you beg for one last time, unaware of what you’ve done to him.
Chris roughly pushes his cock back into your cunt without warning. “Awe, I see. My little princess wants to be fucked like the whore she is, hm? Well, whatever princess wants, she gets,” he growls because beginning to fuck you roughly. You moan loudly at the feeling as with each thrust, his cock pummels against your sweet spot roughly. His pelvic bone rubs against your swollen clit and his grip on your hips tightens.
“Daddy!” you cry out as Chris pounds into your poor pussy. The room fills with moans, groans, curse words and wet sounds that all come from the art you two are making. “Aw, what’s wrong, little girl? Can’t take daddy’s cock anymore? Hm? Well, I don’t really give a fuck, you’re just gonna lie there, and take what I give you like a good fucking girl,” he sneers, and you push at his chest.
“It’s so sensitive!” you wail like a little bitch in heat. “But I bet you don’t want me to stop, do you?” Chris asks as a moan bleeds past his plump lips. “Uh-uh, please don’t stop, Daddy!” you squeal after a harsh thrust. The stretch of Chris’s cock is amazing, and you never want the feeling to stop. Chris’s hand leaves your hip and crawls all the way up to your neck. He wraps his fingers around your throat, and squeezes the sides, making you clench tightly around his big, thick cock.
He lowers his face to yours and watches as you react to the way he’s being rough with you. “Oh, God!” you cry out as he makes his thrusts more powerful. “Actually, it’s just ‘Daddy’, but I’m fine with that too,” he slyly smirks. You’re too fucked out to even laugh at his joke. Your eyes roll back into your skull and your back begins to arch off of the couch. “Awe, are you gonna come around my big fat cock already, slut? How cute,” Chris mocks.
You nod your head and begin babbling like a baby. “But remember, little girl, I have to give you permission to come, okay?” he reminds you, and you whine. Chris’s hand around your throat moves up to grab your jaw, and he stops thrusting into you. “None of that is allowed. Don’t forget your place, little girl,” Chris warns with fury seething through his words. You mumble an apology, trying to formulate the proper words to speak.
“Seems like I really did fuck you stupid,” he chuckles, and you moan at his words. You clamp down on his cock, tempting him to do what you want, like a siren using her voice to lure men into the sea. “Open your mouth up first, little girl,” he orders, and you obediently listen. The searing arousal in your core begins to fade away, and you feel a panic beginning to rise inside you.
Chris drags his hand back down to your throat and rests it there. You watch as he puckers his lips up, and suddenly, he spits into your mouth. You open your mouth even wider and stretch your tongue out. His saliva lands directly on your tongue, and you wait for further instructions before you give in to your desires.
“Swallow it, little girl,” he instructs, and you do exactly so. You open your mouth back up just to earn some praise. “Good fucking girl. The best baby ever,” he smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you, Daddy! … Can I have cummies now?” you lovingly ask your Daddy.
“Of course, little one,” he says as he smiles down at you. Chris begins to fuck into you again, deep and hard. With each thrust, he pounds your g-spot and his balls slap against your ass. His remaining hand on your hip moves down to your clit, rubbing your little button with rough circles.
“Daddy… ‘m gonna come!” you moan loudly and Chris fucks you harder. “Come one, baby, come all over my big cock like the good girl you are,” he urges. The building feeling inside you increases, and you feel yourself getting closer to your release. “Fucking come, little girl, wanna hear you sing for me,” he growls. And with one specific thrust, you find yourself coming undone beneath him.
The sight is so fucking beautiful. Watching you as your eyes turn up, your mouth falls open and your cunt hugging his cock just gets him going, and he wishes he could take a picture of you right now. “D- Daddy! Oh, my-” You cut yourself off with a loud moan and Chris keeps on rubbing your clit and fucking you through your orgasm.
You soak his cock until it’s dripping and even then you’re still coming. You moan loudly and Chris can feel himself getting closer to his orgasm. His balls begin to tighten up and a droplet of sweat drips from his neck down to his chest. “Daddy, are you gonna come?” you sweetly ask as he fucks you through your orgasm whilst chasing his own.
“Yeah, baby, Daddy’s gonna fill you up with his cum. I’m gonna leave you leaking with my seed,” Chris growls as he fucks you faster. “Please, Daddy… Please, I want your cum so badly! Please fill me up with your cum, Daddy,” you beg and Chris tosses his head back.
“Fuck, yes, yes yes,” he shouts as his balls tighten up again. He quickens his pace until white, hot, thick ropes of cum spurts out from his aching tip. He fulfills his promise and your wish, filling you up with his cum until there’s nothing left. His cum mixes with your juices as he paints your walls with no expertise whatsoever. Chris slumps on top of your body, engulfing you in a bear hug as his cock remains buried inside of you.
You’re both panting and struggling to come down from the euphoric feelings. You look up at Chris make lock eyes with him for the nth time. There’ll never be a day where you don’t get lost in his eyes. They’re beautiful, absolutely beautiful. “You did so fucking good, little one,” he praises, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
“Thank you very, very much, Daddy,” you slur, feeling yourself beginning to sleep into little space. “Daddy?” you call out, tapping his bicep after a few seconds. “Yeah, baby?” he asks, lifting himself up to get a better view of your face. “Will you really stay?” you ask with a bit of worry in your voice. He sighs with a full heart.
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imsebastianstan: When @ anthonymackie decides to tell me a STORY.
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another one | sebastian stan
description; even with two young baby’s, and a scintillating wife— seb still craves more.
warnings; fluff, angst, dad!seb, may be suggestive in some parts.
notes; my first seb fic, hope i didn’t butcher your request/idea lovely :pp
° .* ʚ♡ɞ *. °
hypnotic— the graceful movement of your hips whilst you swayed the one year old to sleep. same hypnosis that constantly has sebastian falling on his knees to beg for you, bursting past his seams.
a moment turned into a chant he would want replaying in his mind for as long as it was allowed.
taking in the nursery he still recalls painting a pastel yellow for his three year old son finn. however this nursery still occupied his only other child currently—maisie. finn began eyeing his ‘big boy’ bed a few months ago so that called for his own room.
sebastian thinks it’s time to let another miniature replica of the two of you occupy this care bear theme. doesn’t mean he’ll get his way, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try.
in fact, he’d knock you up as many times as you’d let him.
sebastian didn’t know if it was the nurturing aspect— observing how compassionately you bonded with either young soul or that he would rather you walk around with his child.
i’ve got to get her pregnant again, he thought.
a taller shadow has you nearly collapsing backwards, clamping a hand to your mouth in fear of waking both children up from their nap. he stood in the doorway, shoulder perched perfectly against the wooden molding. you hadn’t known how long he’d been standing there, but you knew you’d been waiting to be engulfed with his presence since he wandered home from filming this morning.
he holds up both hands as if to surrender— whilst you close the door behind you. assuring that another child was sleeping soundly.
instantly backing you into a corner, he envelopes you, squeezing his biceps extra hard as if to smoother you soothingly. almost sure he’d knocked over an overpriced floral vase that you insisted you needed before moving in to make the place more ‘homey’.
“mmm,” sebastian hummed. combing a tuft of hair behind your ear, you grinned up at him stupidly. as if you hadn’t married to the man for over seven long years. but the love you’d found with sebastian wasn’t just being in love, it was the sensation of being loved. the couple everyone wanted to be and the type of love sick story only found in movies.
mostly why sebastian found it rather criminal to not give you another one of his babies.
his stubble is prickling the flesh below your neck, his chiseled craft of a jaw bellowing inward to press peppered kisses to the nook of your neck. finding a way to ease you over, but you thought he knew you well enough to know that you would’ve easily complied either way. being a mother has been a never ending gift, and stringing sebastian along is just a plus.
“you do know the bedroom is two feet away, right seb?” you question, mouth almost going slack at the pleasurable motion of sebastians lips nearing your collar bone. a chocolate curl or two is brushing against your cheek bone.
“couldn’t help it, pretty girl. seeing how you are with the kids just does something to me,” his breaths are few and his voice if muffled. forcing himself away from the reddened skin, his orbs searching for yours— his gaze is stern almost. “have another baby with me.” his sentence is blurted and the crinkles besides your eyes rise whilst a wholehearted smiles creeps onto your face. always on the same page as you, wether he spoke of it or not.
“you can’t say no to me. honestly you can’t, s’been so long. and … and i’ll make you feel good and i—“
“babe …” you palm his chest, trying to gain his attention but he wasn’t stop rambling. you feared your organs might burst out by the end of this conversation because of the overload and laughter.
“please baby? can we have another? you know you want my baby, let me give you another baby !” he’s almost pleading. “fuck it, may as well start now.”
“no!” you interrupt through a hiccuped laugh. “this is how you act every time.”
“and you always give in, c’mon just one more.”
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feels so right - part one
pairing: dadsbestfriend!sebastian stan x reader, chris evans x daughter!reader
summary: you’re the only daughter of chris evans, so you’ve grown up with your dad’s castmates. Now that you’re older, one of his castmates catches your attention at a marvel premiere.
word count: 4k (this ended up being so much longer than I thought it would)
warnings: heavy age gap(both are over 18), heavy flirting/dirty talk, mentions of sex (no actual smut)
/ part two / part three / part four /
“Come on sweetheart, it’ll be fun” your dad said, trying to persuade you.
You crossed your arms, still not sure about the whole situation.
“You said that I didn’t have to go down the red carpet with you” you argued.
Your dad was Chris Evans. He brought you as his date to the Endgame premiere. You loved spending time with your dad, so the premieres were always fun.
“Just go take some pictures with your old man. Plus, you’re going to be a famous star some day. This will be great practice” he said.
Why did he always have to be so persuasive?
You were an aspiring actress. As a kid, you just wanted to be like your dad. You were 22 years old. Your parents met in high school, so it was an understatement to say you were an accident.
Your parents had two defining differences. Your dad stayed; and your mom didn’t.
Your dad protected you and taught you everything you needed to know.
You had a magical childhood. You got to grow up on film sets with your dad. All his Avengers costars became like aunts and uncles to you.
You were surrounded by cinema and acting from a young age. It didn’t surprise anyone when you decided to pursue acting. You had just recently graduated from Juilliard. You were starting to dive headfirst into the acting world.
You had done a few small roles while in school, but you had just recently auditioned for a big movie. It was called Til’ Summer Ends
It was about a man and a woman from opposite ends of the world who meet in Greece, while on separate vacations. They could not be more different from each other. They are quickly attracted to each other, but they both have responsibilities at home at the end of the summer. They decide to make a lifetimes worth of memories jammed into one summer.
Of course, there is the expected twist where they end up together in the end against all odds.
You had auditioned for the lead female character. You had talked to your dad and some of his costars for any tips for an auditions. They were all beyond excited for you.
After you did your audition, you got a text from Sebastian saying that he had gotten the lead male role.
You and Sebastian had a weird complicated relationship. He had been a second dad to you growing up, but you hadn’t seen him since you graduated. You had just been too busy. Recently, you noticed a small crush forming.
It felt so wrong in so many ways. He was your dad’s best friend. The fact that you might get to star in this romance movie with him was not helping your crush.
You were definitely nervous to see him tonight, but you knew you could never let your dad know that.
Your dad gave your hand a quick squeeze to get you out of your head. You felt like you had just woken up.
You both stepped onto the carpet and started to pose for the cameras. He would occasionally whisper jokes in your ear just to get you to smile.
Then, you saw him.
His back was to you, but you knew it was him.
He was standing with Anthony, and they were both being interviewed.
Your dad saw them too. He snuck up behind them and then put his arms around their shoulders. You followed his path, and you ended up standing next to Sebastian as your dad was between the two men.
“And Captain America himself is here: Chris Evans” the interviewer cheered excitedly.
Anthony jumped as your dad snuck up on them. Sebastian took a step back and almost bumped into you.
You put a hand up that pressed against his back when he got too close. He felt your hand and turned to see you.
His eyes lit up. “How are you?” He asked, excitedly. He pulled you into a quick hug. You realized it had been a while since you had seen him last and he looked damn good.
You both pulled away and Anthony gave you a high five.
“Who do we have here?” The interviewer asked.
“This is my darling daughter, Y/N, who gracefully agreed to be my date tonight.” Your dad beamed.
“She is going to be the next big star, I guarantee it” Sebastian said, looking over at you. He slung his arm over your shoulder and planted a kiss of your temple.
You were trying to remain calm, but it was so hard. He looked absolutely amazing tonight, and you weren’t sure how you were going to make it through this premiere.
His eyes burned into you.
The interviewer continued to ask questions and you could feel Sebastian watching you out of the corner of his eye.
You tried to not let it get to you, but you could feel your cheeks burning.
You glanced over at him. He just gave you a small smile, trying to act innocent. You both knew that you had seen him staring.
Your attention was brought away from him when the interviewer said your name.
“So Y/N, there is a rumor going around that you might be starring in Til’ Summer Ends with Sebastian. Can you confirm that?”
Sebastian started smirking and your dad was beaming, once again.
The question threw you. You hadn’t expected to be asked any questions.
“We never know. Sebastian is playing one of the leads, and he will do a fantastic job. They haven’t picked a female lead yet, but we’ll see” you hinted.
“How would that feel Chris?” The interviewer asked.
“Amazing,” he started, “She is such a talented actress and I know she can do anything; however, it would be the weirdest two hours of my life. I will always support her, but watching her kiss my best friend would definitely be uncomfortable. She’s just growing up so fast, and she continues to amaze me.”
You gave your dad a smile.
You mouthed “I love you” to him
The interviewer then thanked you all for answering her questions. Sebastian winked at you as you all walked away. You almost thought you imagined it.
You were about to talk to Sebastian when you heard a reporter call your dads name. Your dad grabbed your hand and pulled you with him, away from Sebastian.
He smirked at you as you were whisked away. You could feel the heat beating off of your cheeks. Your dad introduced himself to the interviewer.
“So Chris, do you have a special date tonight?” The interviewer asked.
“Yes I do, I have my lovely daughter, Y/N” he said, grabbing your hand and pulling you next to him.
The interviewer asked you a few questions and then you ended up just standing behind your dad. You half listened to the questions, but you were mostly just people watching.
You felt someone grab your hand. You looked down, expecting it to be your dad.
It was Sebastian’s hand.
“Come take some photos with me” he said, pulling you over to the carpet. His arm naturally found its way around your waist, like he had done it one hundred times.
You felt like he could hear your heart beating.
You noticed that he was smiling down at you.
“What’s so amusing?” You whispered in his ear.
He ignored you for a second. He wanted to make you wonder.
Then he leaned his head against yours and turned his head to whisper in your ear.
“My agent just told me that you got the part in the movie”
You instantly pulled away from him. Your eyes went wide.
Was this real?
He saw the disbelief in your face. He just nodded his head, silently assuring you he was telling the truth.
Before you knew it, you had pulled him into a hug. He picked you up slightly off the ground, giving you a tight squeeze.
You couldn’t believe it.
He had a massive grin on his face. You could see all the photographers taking a bunch of photos of the sweet encounter.
They, of course, had no idea why you both were so happy.
“This is amazing” you mouthed to him.
He just gave you that million dollar smile. Just as he slipped his arm back around your waist, your dad appeared at your side.
The photographers quickly took photos of the three of you.
You decided to tell your dad about the movie later. You didn’t want to shout at him, just so he could hear you over the chaos.
Then, an interviewer called Sebastian’s name. He gave your hand a quick squeeze before walking over to the interviewer.
You felt your heart skip a beat.
Sebastian knew how to press all of your buttons.
You continued going down the red carpet with your dad, stealing the occasional glance at Sebastian.
Who could blame you? He looked like a god.
You both got to the end of the red carpet and then walked into the room that you all went in before the premiere.
It was a large banquet hall, where everyone was just hanging out.
“Hey dad?” You said, after you both had walked inside.
“I got the role”
You watched him react. You had never seen him so excited.
“That’s amazing” he said, pulling you into a tight hug.
Then, you saw the excitement fade from his eyes. You knew he was realizing that you had to kiss Sebastian, among other things.
You were just realizing it too.
You had a fluttering feeling in your stomach, as you imagined what it would be like to kiss him and have him hold you in his arms. Even if it was just acting, it sounded magical.
“Dad, I’ll be fine” you said, taking his hands in yours.
He didn’t seem assured.
Then, you felt a pair of strong hands on your shoulders. You turned around to see Sebastian standing there with a big grin on his face.
“So apparently you two are you going to be starring in a movie together” your dad said to Sebastian.
“I know. I’m so excited to work with her” Sebastian said, smirking at you.
Your dad looked like he was holding back from threatening Sebastian.
“You better be nothing but a gentleman to her. No funny business or I swear”
Sebastian held his hands up in surrender.
“Congrats Y/N, really. We’re going to be a great team” Sebastian told you, and then gave you a high five.
When your dad looked away for a second, Sebastian winked at you. You could feel the aching in your core.
There was no way you were making it through this premiere. Sebastian looked amazing and he knew exactly what he was doing to you.
Your dad would be disgusted by the thoughts you were having.
You wanted to grab Sebastian’s tie and pull him into a closet with you, but you knew the feelings weren’t mutual. He was always a flirty guy, so you knew that your crush would be met with disappointment.
Then, they opened the doors of the theater and everyone started to file in through the doors.
You all started to walk through the doors. You felt a hand on the small of your back, and you looked over at your dad. He was completely oblivious to his best friend’s hand on your lower back.
You looked over at Sebastian and he just gave you an innocent smile. You felt like your skin was on fire. Your dad could see him at any point.
You quickly moved his hand off your back, and he smirked at you.
You rolled your eyes at him, and you heard him chuckle.
You got to the stairs up to rows of seats. Within a second, Sebastian offered his arm to you. You smiled bashfully. You held onto his arm and carefully walked up the stairs, trying to not trip on your dress.
Your got to your seats and sat down; Sebastian on your left, and your dad on your right.
You waved to some of the other cast mates that passed by you.
The movie started, and everyone started cheering. You ignored all the feelings you were having about Sebastian, and focused on the movie.
Halfway through the movie, your dad leaned into you and told you he had to run to the bathroom.
As soon as your dad exited the theater, Sebastian moved his hand towards you. Your stomach did a flip as you waited to see what he was doing. His hand landed on your thigh. You felt the trail of goosebumps he left on your skin.
He knew exactly what he was doing. You glanced over at him, and he remained focused on the movie screen. He sat there innocently like his hand wasn’t slowly inching up your thigh.
He used his thumb to rub circles on your thigh. It felt like the room was getting hotter by the second.
You felt breathless.
You wanted to climb into his lap and let him take you right there.
Then, your dad reappeared coming up the stairs.
Sebastian’s hand quickly retreated back to his lap. Your dad sat down beside you and gave you a polite smile.
You felt guilty when you smiled back. He had no idea what happened when he left.
Your dad refocused on the movie, and Sebastian leaned closer to you.
“You look stunning, darling” he whispered in your ear, his hot breath blowing on your neck.
Then he leaned back into his seat, as though nothing had happened.
You were burning up now. You were so turned on, and there was nothing you could do about it.
You looked over at him to see if his face showed any emotion. His eyes met yours and then you both quickly looked away. You were embarrassed he had caught you staring.
When the movie ended, you all stood and applauded. You could not have been more proud of your dad.
“That was phenomenal” you said, pulling your dad into a hug. He held you tightly and thanked you for the compliment.
You turned towards Sebastian, who had his arms out for a hug as well.
“You did amazing too” you told him, genuinely.
As you all filed out of the theater, Sebastian held your arm as you both went down the stairs.
There was an afterparty you all were going to after the premiere. You all went outside and walked down another red carpet that lead to limos for everyone.
The carpet was lined with a fence on both sides and then paparazzi.
You stumbled as you walked down the carpet, and you felt two pairs of hands grab onto you. Sebastian had caught one of your arms and your dad caught the other.
“You okay?” Your dad asked you.
You nodded your head.
“You should be more careful, darling” Sebastian whispered. The heat rushed to your face.
You all waited in line and you heard one of the paparazzi yell.
“Y/N! Sebastian! Over here”
You both turned around to look toward the voice. You saw a man standing there with the camera.
Sebastian’s arm slid around your waist, pulling you into his side. You both put on smiles for the camera.
“Kiss her Sebastian. Practice for the new movie” the photographer yelled.
You laughed to yourself and rolled your eyes. You both turned away from the camera.
The paparazzi would do anything to sell their pictures, including invading your privacy.
“Y/N, rolling your eyes is rude. Maybe if you smiled more, you would be more successful. If you don’t want to smile, you could always just take your clothes off. That’ll make you famous too, gorgeous” he yelled again.
You were shocked and disgusted at the same time. Sebastian clenched his jaw, trying to restrain himself. Your dad put his arm around you.
“Don’t listen to them” your dad whispered in your ear.
You were fine ignoring it, but Sebastian was a different story. He looked like he was going to march over and punch him in the face.
“I’m okay” you mouthed to him.
He nodded, but he still looked furious.
The limo pulled up just in time. A bunch of you got inside.
There was two rows of seats that faced each other. You were in between your dad and Sebastian. On the other row, there was Anthony, Scarlett, Elizabeth, and Mark.
“Y/N. How have you been? Meet any cute boys yet?” Scarlett asked you, curiously. You obviously couldn’t tell her about the one man you really had your eye on.
Next to you, Sebastian tensed as he waited for your answer. “No, not really. I’ve been really focusing on my career” you lied, as though you hadn’t been thinking about one thing for the past few hours.
“You should live a little. You’re only 22 once. Go out and meet a cute guy, or hit up one you’ve had your eyes on” she teased you.
You saw panic in your dad’s eyes.
“Don’t listen to a word of that. Boys are not allowed until you’re at least 35. Boys will just break your heart, they’re not worth it” your dad told you.
You all laughed at his protective nature. Your dad changed the subject to something other than your dating life.
“He’s right. Boys will only break your heart. You need to be with a man” Sebastian muttered to you, under his breath.
You nearly choked on your air. Your dad quickly looked over at you, handing you a water bottle.
“You okay?” He asked, concerned.
You nodded your head and cleared your throat.
The rest of the drive was a nightmare. Sebastian’s eyes were on you the whole time. You could feel his stare, like daggers.
When the limo turned and pulled up to the afterparty, you could not have been more relieved. You needed some fresh air after all the dirty thoughts you had running through your mind.
All the things you wanted Sebastian to do to you.
Your dad helped you out of the car, and then you all walked into the afterparty.
“I’m going to go find the bathroom. You going to stay with Sebastian and Anthony?” Your dad asked you over the blaring music.
You quickly nodded and then he ran off. “Congrats on the roles, you two. I want to see if Chris will end up punching Sebastian because of the movie. So, Y/N, if you want to bring your dad on set during the filming of the sex scene, that would really help” Anthony teased.
You giggled at the thought. You could see your dad in your head. His face would be bright red, and he would be fuming.
“No, there will be no punching” you groaned.
“How are you going to do that?” Anthony asked you, crossing his arms. Sebastian also seemed interested, and waited for your answer.
“Well, I will make up a completely different plot and tell him that is what happens. And I will find a way to keep him from ever seeing the movie” you joked. Sebastian chuckled.
“You can try that, but I don’t think it’ll work. Your dad is already freaking out about you two doing this movie. Besides, Sebastian loves to mess with Chris. He’s going mention it all the time. Like “remember that time I made out with your daughter?”. There’s no way you’re keeping this a secret” Anthony said, causing you all to start cracking up.
Anthony excused himself when his phone rang. He said he had to go meet with someone.
“So now we’re alone” Sebastian whispered to you. Your heart fluttered just from the sound of his voice.
You cupped your face with one of his hands and ran his thumb along your lips. You were basically panting under his touch.
You saw your dad coming so you grabbed his hand away from your face. You started to spin and he got the memo. He spun you in a circle, like you both were just dancing.
“You guys are dancing without me?” Your dad jokingly asked.
Yep dad, that’s exactly what we’re doing.
“You know us. We love to dance” Sebastian said, pulling you closer and dipping you.
You giggled as he pulled you back up. Your dad chuckled, completely unaware that you both were lying.
Then, a man walked over and patted your dad on the back.
“Henry! How are you man?” Your dad asked, pulling the man into the hug. They both exchanged some greetings, and the man introduced himself to Sebastian.
“Henry, this is my daughter, Y/N. She’s an actress, and an amazing one at that. Y/N, this is Henry. He’s a director I’ve worked with a few times. He’s great at his job” he introduced the two of you.
You smiled politely and shook the man’s hand. It was always good to make connections in your line of work.
You all talked for a few minutes, and then Henry excused himself. Filling in his spot, Anthony came back over and introduced you all to his wife. Then, a few other cast mates joined your small group.
Someone started a conversation, and you let yourself slip into your thoughts. You looked at Sebastian and found that he was already watching you.
You couldn’t look away from his eyes. You completely let yourself zone out of the conversation. Your eyes started to trail up and down his body. His suit complemented his body so well.
You didn’t know it then, but he was doing the same thing to you. You met his eyes again, and you noticed that he was slightly biting down on his lips.
You groaned to yourself at how irresistible he looked. You were glad the room was loud because no one heard you.
Then, you heard someone clear their throat. You were quickly brought back into the conversation and you looked at the source of the noise.
“Y/N?” Anthony questioned, smirking at you. He knew exactly why you had zoned it, but no one else had noticed.
“I’m sorry? What was that?” You asked, as though you had just misunderstood him.
He asked you the question again, and you answered him this time. Your cheeks were on fire as he spoke. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Sebastian staring at you.
After an hour of undressing Sebastian with your eyes and meeting countless amounts of your dad’s work friends, you were ready to leave this party.
Sebastian noticed how bored you looked. He subtly got your attention and then looked over to the side. You nodded and walked away from the group, where he met you.
“You look bored out of your mind”
“I can think of better ways to pass the time” you flirted.
“Alright, time to pull out your acting chops” he said, smirking at you.
You rolled your eyes, grabbed his hand, and pulled him behind you. You walked up to your dad and pulled him aside.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked you.
“Nothing much. I just have a headache. I’m going to go home and get some rest” you lied through your teeth.
Your dad’s expression changed to worry.
“Well do you want me to drive you?” He asked.
You shook your head no. “Sebastian said he would give me a ride. He said he was planning on leaving soon anyway. Have a good night, I love you” you said, giving your dad a quick hug.
He told you that he loved you and kissed your temple. Then, Sebastian grabbed your hand and pulled you out the front doors. He dropped your hand when you walked near the paparazzi.
The last thing you wanted was your dad to find out. An easy way for him to find out would be if it ended up on the cover of every newspaper.
The valet brought Sebastian’s car up to the street. Sebastian helped you into the car and closed your door. Once he got inside, he turned to you.
“You ready for the night of your life?” He asked you, smirking.
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Hello Kitty - B. Barnes
NOTE: for the sake of this imagine, let’s pretend that Bucky knows about HK. WARNING: contains smutty ending, do not read if you are below the age of 18! aka MINORS SCOOT! also this isn’t proofread so sorry if it’s shitty?
TAGLIST: @poetic-heart @hallecarey1 @moonlightbaby10 @5-seconds-of-bucky @bbl32 @wobblymug @iwannabekilledtwice @golden-hoax @barnes-lokison
SUMMARY: it’s your third date with bucky and you are dressed to impress...for the most part
“It’s our third date.” You admit shyly to Natasha and Wanda, who sat before you on your bed. The two women’s “oohs” had your body feeling much warmer in your bathrobe than moments before. You maintained your gaze on your bare thighs, with your fingernails continuously picking at loose pieces of fuzz on your robe.
“So what are you wearing?” Natasha quirks an eyebrow at you, the corner of her lips tilted up deviously. Wanda matches her expression, further encouraging you to stand up and retrieve the knee-length, red dress from your closet. Once again, the two “ooh-ed” simultaneously at the piece.
“I don’t think he’s ever seen a dress so revealing.” Wanda giggles. Natasha joins her with a few chuckles of her own.
“He might think he chose to go out with a harlot.” Nat jives, earning another barrage of laughs from the girl beside her. Yes, Bucky did have a few years on him, but it was nothing you enjoyed hearing others tease him about. Bucky Barnes knew how to put up a shell, and do it excellently. Something you are certain of though, is nobody enjoys having their age being commented on.
“Guys, come on…” You whine, tossing the dress onto your bed and returning to the seat at your vanity, where various makeup products lie scattered.
“We’re only teasing, Y/N.” Wanda’s hand, donning several rings, waves carelessly about. Natasha hums in agreement.
“What are you wearing underneath?” She questions.
“Underneath? Why’s that matter?” Natasha and Wanda both suck in a sharp breath, and exchange a wary glance. When they lock their bewildered stares back onto you and still say nothing, you begin to grow impatient.
“Hello? Am I missing something?” You fold your arms together, leaning back in your chair and looking at the expectantly.
“Y/N, it's the third date.” Wanda snickers.
“Then you should know that it’s important to wear the proper...undergarments.” Natasha mumbles.
“Look who’s sounding old now.” You turn in your seat and waltz over to your dresser. “What’s wrong with wearing what I normally wear?” You call back to them as your eyes study the selection of panties and bras displayed in your top drawer.
Natasha scoffs, before bluntly stating “Your sports bra and granny panties aren’t gonna get you laid, Y/N.” You take a deep inhale through the nose and spin around to meet the woman’s interrogating eyes. Part of you almost makes a comeback on the sports bra comment, but find yourself squeaking after processing her last few words.
“Laid?! Who says we’re going that far?” You nearly choke out, laying a hand on your cheek in mortification.
“Says anybody who’s ever dated anybody. Third dates require you to bring your A-game.” Wanda informs, now making you succumb to humiliation further. The girl is years younger than you and knows more about a stable love life than you ever could. “You have to dress up. Even underneath.” She adds.
You glance down at the sloppy bow you tied to keep your robe shut. “Well...that rule is stupid. And outdated. Who says we can’t go out on a third date, have a good time fully-clothed and end it that way?” You snip, turning back to grab a nude bra with a satisfied smile.
“Y/N, just take our advice. It’ll help you in the long run.” Nat begs, catching a sinister glint in your eyes. You make an indecisive noise, feeling giddy for keeping your friends on their toes, before declaring:
“No, I don’t think I will. In fact, to prove to you both how ridiculous that rule is…” Your hand shuffles around the drawer, away from Natasha’s and Wanda’s prying eyes. When you finally retrieve your most embarrassing pair of underwear, you elicit a devilish laugh and raise the piece of clothing, high and proud for their eyes to see. In sync, you watch their lips part and eyes grow ide.
“Y/N, no…” Wanda’s strawberry-blonde hair swishes on and off of her shoulders as she shakes her head furiously.
“Don’t do this.” Natasha continues pleading. But their desperate attempts to keep you from wearing the pair of panties, clutched tight in your grasp, is only further motivation for you to pull them on your body.
“Y/N, yes.” You nod. “If you two ladies don’t mind excusing yourselves, I have a date to get ready for.” Both women perceive your satisfied smile with doubtful frowns tracing their lips. Natasha and Wanda knew perfectly well that you would come to regret your decision later in the night. You, however, were too ignorant to realize the mistake you had just committed.
“Thanks for taking me out, Buck. I had a really great time.” Your hand, entangled with Bucky's, lessens its grip. As the two of you approach the elevator to ride up to your floor, the red fabric adorning your body stops swishing at your knees. Bucky rests his vibranium hand against his chest, sparing you a smile nobody else in the compound would ever have the delight of seeing.
“The pleasure is all mine, Y/N.” His fingers remain laced with yours throughout the entire elevator ride up to your respective floor. When you began leading the way to your own bedroom, Bucky stops you with a proposal.
“Actually I was thinking about it, and uh…” the same hand on his chest moments ago winds behind him to scratch at the nape of his neck, “did you want to come to my room and chat a little longer.”
You graciously accepted the super soldier’s offer, but it was not long before your lips and tongues pursued more intimate activities. Currently, yours were forming escalating moans as Bucky’s mouth prioritized the space between your shoulder and neck, giving each patch of untouched skin his undivided attention.
“I gotta get this off of you,” he grumbles, yearning for more of your bare skin to meet his lips. Eagerly, his flesh hand searched the back of your dress up and down for a zipper. His vibranium hand remained at the bottom of your thigh, metal fingers tucked just below the red skirt of your dress and dangerously close to--
You suck in a sharp breath, eyes enlarging at the thought of the underwear shielding your privates. Bucky’s blue eyes, darkened by the dimly lit bedroom cast down to yours with concern.
“W-what happened? I didn’t hurt you did I?” You respond with a viscous shake of your head, desperate to not let this moment slip through your fingers.
“Just had a...small chill.” Your lips tremble at the sight of Bucky’s turning up into a smirk. You swear his eyes darken four shades in front of you too, complementing the burning list fueling your actions. His lips bend down to greet the shell of your ear, and this time, a sincere chill does run through your body. It sends tingles to your toes and an itchy feeling only Bucky can give you antidote for.
“Why don’t I warm you up, then?”
You’ll admit, for being over one hundred, the man still had power to every butterfly in your stomach, and each thump of your heart. Once glance from his blue eyes could send your knees wobbling, or worse, be to blame for a full on collapse. Currently, this charm of his was sparring with your inner-shame all because of what lies beneath your dress.
You remember why you put the pair of panties on in the first place, but you never expected your long-time crush to be witness to them. Taking a deep breath, you mentally prepared to deal with any future teasing from Bucky this moment would bestow on you. After all, it’d be quite nice to rub it in Natasha’s and Wanda’s face that you still got laid while wearing them.
“Yeah, I’d like that…” you elicit a nervous chuckle, following Bucky’s perusing eyes. You feel his hand still struggling to take hold of the small zipper and tug it down. His impatience grew clear when his warm palm and cool metal appendage dissipated from your back entirely, and instead, grasped the hem of the dress pooling at your thighs.
“Fuck it.” He mutters, and lifts the skirt of your dress up. By this point, your eyes were clenched shut and your teeth were grinding together in anticipation. Without realizing it, your fingers were clutching Bucky’s bedsheets for support of the various reactions feeding through your brain. Only did your hands release the cotton sheets when Bucky’s hands cloaked them.
You peeled your eyes open to see him, a cheeky smile lining the bottom of his face as he responded in a coy manner. “Nice panties.” A wave of heat filled your body from top to bottom, while your heartbeat reached a pace that you never knew to be possible. Bucky could hear each thump for himself, and chuckled to himself at the sight of you falling sheepish underneath him.
The blue beauties of his eyes dragged down your body to the light pink cotton underwear, where a familiar cartoon head was printed all around it. The yellow noses and dotted eyes stared up at him daringly, awaiting his next move. As did you.
A sharp breath leaps down your throat when a cool metal finger inserts itself through the side of your underwear, and you feel your stomach begin quivering at the feeling of Bucky’s vibranium hand sliding the panties down your leg in a teasing manner.
“Hello Kitty.” Is all he says, before introducing your wet heat to the magic trick that is his thick, pink tongue.
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Author’s Note: Oowee! I think this is the third consecutive week of Fanfiction Friday. I have a bit of an obsession with older! Bucky/Dilf! Bucky. You already know it’s going to be hella smutty and maybe I should start putting warnings on these things, but enjoy!
Warning: Age-gap, smut, dirty talking, oral (m receiving), orgasm denial, degrading kink, reader being a bitch, mentions of murder, sort of a praise kink, a bit of a dominant! Bucky.
Bitter was one way to describe your attitude towards James Buchanan Barnes. You never had anything nice to say about the super soldier, you always had a side remark and you would often give him dirty looks along with being as rude as you can be.
At first Bucky never understood why you always acted this way towards him, but soon he learnt that you were bitter about his days as the Winter Soldier, something he was not proud off and has been working hard to pay his sins, but with all the good he was doing there was one thing he couldn’t do; bring your grandparents back.
Bucky never held this against you, or even hated you and he felt that you had every right to hate him considering what he had done. Steve and even Sam had tried to talk you out of your hostile feelings, but you were set in it and nothing could change that (besides Bucky himself, of course.) The two of you would just get on with your days, acting as if the other didn’t exist, you doing it because of your resentment, and Bucky doing it for your benefit.
It was always the small things, like one time you were baking and you couldn’t reach the tray on the top shelf and so Bucky offered to help, but you brushed him off saying, “letting you help me would be like trusting you and you’re only going to stab me in the back, literally.”
Yes, the comment hurt Bucky’s feeling, but the one that probably hurt the most was when you were running late for an appointment and he offered to drop you off since he was also heading out but you declined, rudely saying, “I rather not get into a car with you considering your history.”
That was the last straw. He could only take so much, but with every unnecessary jab you took at him, if felt like you were undoing everything he had done so far to make things right, and he wouldn’t allow that.
So that evening, when you returned from wherever you went, he planned to teach you to forgive and to forget, and maybe even a little respect. He had snuck into your room while you were in the shower to wait for you, deciding the best way was to make sure you were vulnerable, especially because you are a Stark and they didn't go down without a fight.
You seemed to take the world’s longest shower. When you were finally finished and pushed open the bathroom door, a trail of steam followed you out. You didn’t seem to notice Bucky laying on your bed, shirtless, but Bucky sure noticed how sexy you looked with your skin looking fresh and vibrant and nothing but a tiny towel wrapped around your body.
You froze and hugged your towel tighter, but couldn’t deny the little excitement you felt by seeing the super soldier shirtless.
You remained calm, making your way to your closet and pulled out a hot pink thong tossing into onto the bed where it landed next to Bucky. “Can I help you?” You turned to him, folding your arms.
He raised a brow, his eyes skimming over your form and then the pink thong, images of you wearing just that flashing through his head. “Yes.” His voice came out smooth with a dark edge to it. “There are a lot of things you can help with?”
“What?” You spat rudely.
“First,” he gritted, “you can help by telling me why you are always so rude to me, besides the obvious reason.”
Cocking your head to the side, you scoffed. “I have to look at you everyday and think about how you killed my grandparents,” you spat. “I never knew them because you took them away from me.”
Bucky felt bad, but you always had a bit of an attitude towards him and maybe even others and that was because you were The Tony Stark’s daughter, and you felt entitled. He was going to teach you a lesson about respect today.
“Get out.” You pointed to the door, which Bucky locked when he came in.
He smirked. “Not so fast, princess.” A shiver travelled down the expanse of your spine. “There’s something else I need.” You glared at him while he only smirked at you, scaring you more. “I need you to get down on your knees like a good, obedient girl and help me with this.” He pointed to the bulge in his jeans that you noticed for the first time.
You gulped. “W-what?” You stuttered, stepping back and almost dropping your towel in the process.
“You heard me,” he growled. “You always have something snarky to say. How about you put that pretty little mouth to good use?”
A few seconds passed in silence, and Bucky thought you weren’t going to do it, until you dropped your towel and knocked the breath out of Bucky’s lungs.
Walking over to him, you sank down on your knees and unbuckled his belt, pulling his pants down, setting his member free which slapped against his stomach. The tip was red and angry, and he was impressively thick and just the perfect, mouth-watering size. His dick didn’t look like it would split you open, but it sure did look like you would never forget the feeling of it.
Spitting on your hand, your slowly spread the precum on his dick before pushing the head past the soft cushion of your lips. Bucky hissed, his teeth sinking into his lip and his one hand tangling in your hair.
“Just like that,” he groaned, “you look so sexy with your mouth stuffed with my cock, and for once you’re not saying anything.”
Pushing him down, you gagged, continuing to massage him with your tongue, hollowing your cheeks and cupping his balls. You felt him twitch, his sack tighten and he began to sloppily thrust into your mouth.
“You’re gonna let me cum down your throat?” He asked. “You’re gonna be a good girl and swallow everything I give you?” You only managed to hum in response, the vibrations sending him over the edge, rewarding you with his salty semen. You swallowed every last drop, sitting back on your haunches, letting your hands trail down your body to the sensitive mound between your legs.
Disappointment flooded you when he pulled his pants up, buckling his belt, and he leaned down, roughly gripping your chin with his cool metal arm. “When you sort out this attitude problem of yours, come and see me and maybe we can talk about letting you cum.”
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𝓔𝔂𝓮𝓼 𝓸𝓷 𝓶𝓮
summary: You can’t stop staring at bucky working out, distracting him from his workout. He makes you wish you could look away.
WARNINGS: 18+ NO MINORS, eats you out, eye contact kink (idek if this is a thing lol), orgasm, pet names, teasing, scare kink? (reader is attracted by fear), rough sex, metal arm kink, dominant bucky, punishment kink, a bit of hair pulling, tension
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
reblogs/feedback/likes are greatly appreciated & highly encouraged! please don’t repost/steal any of my fics!
The sun glimmers on half of your naked body this morning. You stretch your arms in response and move up from under the covers. You reach your hand out to feel him, but all you feel are the sheets. After a couple more slaps on the bed you realize he probably isn’t there. You push yourself up with your arms and legs. Your legs still ache from last night, but when are you not sore after a night with the famous James Buchanan Barnes. You pull on his graphic tee which practically is a gown on you and you start moving down the stairs. His house was gigantic, it was the least to say that his role as the governments best assassin paid well. Although you loved his house, it was quite hard to find him in it. You looked in the kitchen, living room, second living room, and then the second kitchen. Nothing. You echo his name and you hear a faint but somewhat clear response. As you follow the response you realize what a dumby you are. The gym, of course.
When you arrive he has his back to you, ripping out weights. You loved seeing him like this, all sweaty and breathing heavily. He puts down the weights and turned to you.
“Hi,” he said with a faint smile, still panting.
“Hi,” you said checking him out. He chuckled a bit and then went back to his weight exercises. As he arrived at the bench he couldn’t shake the fact that you had nothing underneath his shirt, which immediately made him develop a bump in his crotch. You lean against the us wall, almost laughing at how he already has a boner due to you.
“Stop it,” he said pulling the big weight and pushing it up.
“Stop what,” you said, cluelessly smiling.
“Stop staring *pant* at me your distracting,”
A bigger smile forms on your face before you say, “Why don’t you make me barnes,”
He lifts the weight down and moves his head above to a sitting position. He’s annoyed, but also turned on?
“Get over here,” You obey his command willingly, straddling him on the bench.
“You dirty little slut, just cant stop staring at me huh?” his hands make their way to your hips, “I’ll make you wish you could look away,” you take a hard gulp in, a bit scared of the super soldier. His face comes so close to your face you could feel his breath on your lips. The tension between the two of you is unmatched.
“I’m going to eat you out and your eyes have to stay on me the whole time doll. And if you even move your eyes a bit away, you’ll be in even bigger trouble,” The devilish smirk that forms around his mouth has you almost drooling through your pussy. Actually, scrap that, you were drooling through you pussy. He flips you over onto the bench in one motion, immediately caressing your stomach with his tongue. His long graphic tee is now on the floor while you lay naked before your clothed man. he brings himself down and kisses your thigh. He maintains eye contact with you as his tongue licks up and down your thighs, getting closer and closer to your holes. Once he comes to your cunt he brings his metal fingers to your wet heat. You flinch at the coldness of his fingers, despite the rest of him being warm.
“Mhm, do I make you horny baby?” He says, a sly smile forming against his face as you two make eye contact. You go to throw your head back but your caught by a slap to your thigh. You jert upward before he clicks his tongue and you remember the rule he set in place for you today. His tongue immediately swoops in, devouring every piece of you. He moves his tongue up and down, making your body shudder. You want to roll your eyes to the back of your head. You want to tilt your head back and arch your back. But you can’t. It’s torture, but it’s hot as hell. A finger finds your hole, and immediately goes in. The freakish moans that come out of your mouth only make him go faster. When he adds another finger you slap the workout bench, upset that you had to maintain eye contact with him.
“Don’t be a brat,” He murmurs in your pussy, only making the vibrations throughout your body increase. Instead, you squeeze the bench and you feel your chest go up and down an abnormal amount. You moan his name and he chuckles against your skin. The sensation is too much, watching him devour you is making you hornier then you’ve ever been. You feel the coil in your stomach starting to snap.
“S-so close,” You say before moaning again. You have to squint so that your eyes wouldn’t squeeze shut. You feel the smirk against your clit before he speeds up and adds another finger. The wave over you comes all too soon. Your back wants to arch, you want to lean your head back, do literally anything but you can’t. All you could do is squirm around and scream his name while maintaining the eye contact he has desired so much. He lets you ride out your orgasm, rubbing his thumb around your pussy. Your practically jumping now, and Bucky’s grin still stands because he realizes the power he has over you. He pulls his fingers away from you, licking each one. His face comes right up to your lips, but he doesn’t kiss you yet.
“What a good girl,” he says, now full on smiling, “Have you learned your lesson yet?”
You nod obediently and he smirks pleased with himself before looking at your lips. He kisses you passionately, and you can taste your cum through his tongue. He lifts you onto him and feels your shaky legs.
“You can rest now baby,” He says, although sad he’ll have to come on his own. You notice his bulging boner and a smile forms on your face now.
“I don’t wanna rest,” You say, coming off of him and getting on your knees, your legs still hurting from the ever so intense interaction you two just had.
“You look so pretty, on your knees for me,” he says, cupping your face. His beefy hands travel to your hair, before he yanks you upward making you yelp.
“But not here. I still have to take a shower,” he says winking at you. You look at him and laugh out loud. The whole thing, the grip he has on your hair, the grip he has on you. It’s scary what you would do for him. Partly because you were scared of him. But fear was attractive.
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boyfriend vibes pt. 4 ❣
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