Your Filthy Heart
Part Two: Beg For Daddy
Your Filthy Heart Masterlist
Pairing: Stepdad!Bucky x (18+)Female Reader
Summary: The thought of your mother passed out next door, the other side of your bedroom wall, did nothing to quell the intense hunger you felt for him.
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: Explicit language, STEPDAD TROPE/DADDY KINK, slight DUBCON but overall consensual, derogatory language, jealousy, edging, unprotected sex, fingering, bicep choking, slight mentions of prescription pills, Bucky’s filthy mouth.
A/N: A little continuation from Something Old, Something New. You don’t necessarily need to have read it to understand this though. Thank you to my lovely friend and Beta for this fic @ozarkthedog , who I don’t deserve because I often forget to credit her 🤣😘 Enjoy!
Your mother insisted on it.
Every Thursday night, without fail.
A notion you would have dreaded a few months earlier, but now all you saw it as was a chance to tease Bucky, and remind him of what he was missing out on while he played happy marriages with her.
“How’s college sweetheart?” You heard your mother ask as you absentmindedly picked at your pasta, one foot resting between Bucky’s thighs – the tips of your toes rubbing against the bulge in his trousers.
“Fine, nothing exciting to report.” You replied nonchalantly, leaning back in your chair, your arms raised high above your head as you feigned a stretch; the hem of your crop top riding up just enough to get his blood pumping.
“What about you, Honey? You’ve been working late a lot this week. You must be exhausted, poor thing.” She cooed as she looked over at Bucky, a sickly-sweet tone to her voice that made your stomach lurch.
He hadn’t been working late at all. He’d been picking you up from college most days in fact.
You’d spent most evenings that week tangled up in a cheap, motel bed with him. It was exhilarating, and the guilt you felt wasn’t a patch on the lust that grew in your belly with each passing tryst.
Bucky nearly choked on his water when the pad of your foot pressed firmly against the rigid outline of his cock, his sapphire eyes shooting you a firm look of warning. You couldn’t help the smirk that spread across your glossy lips, replaced soon by a grimace as he placed his hand over your mothers, squeezing it with an affection that you were certain was for your benefit.
“Been pretty busy, Doll. How’s about I take you out this weekend, huh? That new French restaurant just opened up in the City. I’ll make a reservation, just the two of us.”
His stare locked with yours, burning a hole through your skull as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth in unreasonable rage.
You dropped your foot from his chair, tucking it beneath you as a thought popped into your head – a coy smirk rising on your lips.
“Hey Mom, I’m probably not gonna be home on Saturday night. I just thought I should let you know; I know you worry.”
You didn’t have to look up to know his eyes were still on you, studying your intentions.
“Does someone have a date or something?” Your mother teased, nudging you with her knee beneath the table. “We’ll be in the City anyway by the sounds of it, sweetheart. Who’s the lucky guy?”
Leaning back in your chair, you turned your head to face him, revelling in the very clear jealousy etched upon his strong features.
“Not a date, more like a something. You remember Peter, right? From my biology class?”
“Oh yes, yes he certainly is a looker. And he seems like a gentleman.” She was oblivious to the way her husband was looking at you, completely unaware of the fiery sexual tension burning in the air around her.
“A gentleman?” You scoffed, playing up to the idea that it certainly wasn’t a romantic date you were planning. “I sure hope not.”
Of course up until moments earlier you weren’t even planning on letting Peter take you out. But you knew he wanted you, knew he was more than a little interested.
You watched as Bucky’s jaw clenched, part proud and part scared, knowing it wouldn’t be the last you heard of it.
Dinner finished in near silence, the sound of cutlery tinkling against China ringing in the heavy air.
You couldn’t bear the tension, standing up and loading your plate into the dishwasher. Barely sparing him a second glance, you kissed your mother on the cheek.
“You know, I think I’m gonna go to bed. Early start and everything. G’night.”
Taking two steps at a time up the stairs, uncertainty and pride swirling in your gut, you made your way to your room.
Stripping off, you pulled on your oversized college sweatshirt, ridding yourself of your panties and diving into bed.
Your mind still ticking from dinner, you picked up your phone, the bright light causing you to squint slightly.
‘Hey Parker, wanna take me out on Saturday night?’
He was a sweet guy, and maybe a little part of you felt guilty for dragging him into your twisted game — but you couldn’t help yourself.
You ignored the niggling feeling in the back of your brain that you were growing all together too fond of Bucky, hiding behind a mask of unadulterated lust and desire.
Feeling yourself dozing off, a lazy smile on your face and your phone dangling in your hand, you pushed all thoughts of Bucky to the back of your mind. Slumber takes you quickly, and you don’t notice the shadow pass slowly through the crack of your door.
A pressure against your face startles you awake, his palm curled tightly against your mouth, breath hot in your ear. He’s behind you, his body weight looming down on top of you, the very prominent bulge in his pants rubbing against your bare ass.
“Peter Parker, huh?”
The blueish glare of your phone screen held in front of your face, you whimpered, a text from Peter staring straight back at you.
You tried to move, your mouth dewy from the heat of your own breath against his skin, inaudible pleas falling from your lips.
“I’m disappointed in you princess, thought you were gonna keep that little cunt tight and precious for Daddy.”
His grip over your face tightened, holding your head up to read the words displayed on the screen.
‘Oh wow, okay. You wanna see a movie? Or not? x’
Bucky’s breaths were ragged against your back -- the phone dropping to the mattress next to your head, his hand instantly pawing at the backs of your thighs possessively, his knee shoving your legs apart.
“How many times has Daddy fucked you this week, huh?” He gruffed, fingers sweeping through your already slick folds, pinching at your clit harshly. “Not enough, obviously. Greedy fuckin’ cockslut.”
Tears pricked at your eyes, yet not through sadness. No. You felt shame. Shame at the way you mindlessly wound your hips, seeking delicious friction against your core. His teeth found the shell of your ear and you yelped, your own teeth sinking into the flesh of his palm.
“I’d tell you to be quiet Princess, but we both know Mommy’s out for the count. Thank fuck for sleeping pills, ain’t that right?”
The thought of your mother passed out next door, the other side of your bedroom wall, did nothing to quell the intense hunger you felt for him.
His arm sweeping beneath you, he pulled you back to your knees, one hand instantly diving between your legs, cupping your sex with a primal desire that left your knees trembling.
Your mouth finally free of his grasp, he curled his bicep around your throat; his free palm slapping against your pussy, making you whine in need.
“We’ve been over this. You think anyone else can fuck you the way I fuck you?”
A finger stretched out your hole, pushing its way in to the knuckle, his grip around your throat tightening just a little. Enough to let you know that he was in charge, and he wasn’t in the mood for any resistance.
“Awful quiet for somebody who had so much to say at dinner, Princess. You like making Daddy mad, is that it?”
“N--no, Daddy.” You squeak, windpipe restricted beneath the weight of his thick bicep.
A second finger joined the first, the palm of his hand rubbing against your clit, and all you could do was fall back into the solid wall of muscle behind you, your head lulling back against his collar bone.
“Oh, she does speak.” The feeling of his fingertips swiping back and forth across the sweet spot deep inside you left you panting, your own hands reaching to grab at his thighs. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Think Peter Parker can fingerfuck you like this? Think he can make you come?”
With a slight twist of his fist, a third finger stretching you out to the point of discomfort, the burn laced with a touch of pleasure, you cried out.
“God, no, no Daddy. Please, please I think I’m gon--”
“Oh no, no you’re not. You’ve been a real cocktease tonight, Princess. They don’t get to come.”
You could have sobbed when he withdrew his digits, your cunt clenching around nothing, mourning the loss of his expert touch.
With a gentle shove between your shoulder blades, he pushed you down, your chest meeting the mattress. One hand wrapped around your thighs, he yanked your ass up high in the air, your conscious feeling the weight behind you ease.
Looking back over your shoulder, your eyes widened at the sight of him pulling off his clothes -- leaving him naked, magnificent cock throbbing from the strain of his erection.
“You wanna come don’t you? Tell Daddy how bad, beg for it.”
You watched as he palmed at his length, slow and dirty, never once breaking eye contact. His head cocked to the side, his lips pouted, mocking you as you undulated your hips in desperation.
“Please, I’m sorry Daddy.” Your voice was shaky, the tension in your belly slowly unwinding, driving your farther away from the edge of bliss. “I w-won’t go out with Peter. I’ll-I’ll be a good girl, please.”
With a sadistic smirk plastered across his face, he climbed onto the bed behind you, the sensation of his cock bobbing between your legs making you shiver.
“It’s okay, Princess. I know you get jealous.” The tip of him ran the length of your slit, your tight hole quivering in anticipation. “You know I think of you when I fuck her, right?”
His obscene words should have made you recoil in disgust, but instead you found your heart beating just that little bit faster in your chest, the slick between your thighs growing by the second.
“I think of this tight, fresh cunt.” Inch by agonising inch, he stretched out your walls, a grunt of satisfaction rumbling in his chest. “I think about how good that tight ass looks bouncin’ on my dick.”
The praise had you writhing, hands braced against the headboard as you pushed back to meet his firm, insistent thrusts. His cock growing ever harder inside you, you took him to the hilt, grinding your ass back against his pelvis, desperate for every bit of him.
“That’s it, just like that. You know how Daddy likes it, don’t you Princess?” It was rhetorical, but you nodded your head all the same, kitten-like mewls falling from your lips. “She can’t fuck me like this, not like you. You just wanna make Daddy feel good, don’t you?”
“Yes, Daddy. Oh, fuck, s’all I want.”
The eagerness in your voice had him pounding into you, the pressure of him driving up against your cervix causing you to sink your teeth into the pillow. His fingernails bit into the flesh of your waist, the cool sting of his wedding ring tickling your skin.
“Fuck,” he purred, sitting back slightly on his knees to take in the sight of your drenched cunt swallowing his dick. “Lookit you, taking Daddy’s cock like a perfect little fucktoy. That what you want, baby? Wanna be Daddy’s little fuck toy?”
One hand tangled in your hair, holding your head down against the pillow, the other gripping the flesh of your ass; he fucked you, fucked you like he owned every part of you.
“Yes - shit - yes!” Your garbled cries muffled by soft cotton, you braced yourself. The invisible coil of pleasure threatening to snap between your thighs. “Oh fuck! Fuck, please! Can’t—”
“Can feel it, go on baby, gonna fill you up. Fuck it all up into you, make sure you remember who this pussy belongs to.”
Your eyes rolling back, spine seizing up as he drove you into the mattress, you shattered. Bliss so intense, you couldn’t stop your knees from giving out, shaking and whimpering against the comforter like the fucked out, mess of a girl you were.
He followed you down, chest flush against your back, his mouth devouring the delicate flesh at the nape of your neck, teeth grazing over the knot of your spine possessively.
Hips rutting against your ass, his movements stuttered; cock throbbing inside you, warmth filling you up as his spend smattered against your bruised walls.
“Milk Daddy’s cock, Princess. Milk it with that pretty cunt.”
Your muscles spasmed, pulling him in, holding him inside the warm confines of your core, your cunt pulsing wildly as the blood rushed to the surface.
Floating in the aftershocks of your orgasm, you shuddered at the feel of his breath rasping against your cheek, the way his tongue snaked out to lap at the stray tears falling from your hazy eyes.
“Make sure you let Parker down gently, hmm? Not his fault you’re such a cockhungry bitch is it?”
A/N: You can read the third instalment The Pure and The Poison HERE. Thanks for reading!
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