[hail-marys]

full of grace

anne ⋆₊ ♱ 20s -- welcome to my dddne blog! please mind all warnings. minors and ageless blogs will be blocked.

taboo topics will be explored. i do not condone these topics.

at the moment i write exclusively for bucky barnes, but this may change in the future. masterlist and tag navigation below the cut.

tag navigation: fic recs

masterlist (coming soon)

[theoracleofsin]

regarding the conversation being held everywhere about dddne content, more specifically incest & noncon cenarios:

as a person who runs a blog focused solely on dddne content, let me tell you some funny lore.

the people you see reblogging those "incest in fiction is disgusting, who would write that?" are frequently on my notes, liking my posts (but not openly reblogging them) or in my DMs telling me they like my fics, again, without publicly endorsing it. reading in private because no one can know they read that filth.

your favorite fic writers? many of them have separate accounts dedicated to dddne while preaching puritanism on their main accounts, in order to appease the masses and not get hate for it.

the people who consistently say they block tags, who block people they deem as "pedos" even though no one here is writing fiction with minors? none of them have ever blocked me, or other accounts that i interact with. we all see them constantly in the tags we use, then complaining that things are not tagged even though they chase it constantly. tumblr does not have an algorithm. you find what you choose to look for.

i hope you all have fun continuously praying for censorship of media and fictional content, that truly is the downfall of society (i don't know what to tell you if you can't understand this is sarcasm).

[bottldcries]

After the Fight

Tags: Tw// DDDNE (dead dove do not eat); father daughter incest, reader is in her 20’s, virgin reader, dubcon

Prompt: violent dad x daughter with huge crush on him

Outfit: I usually fight for my life trying to decipher what the character’s wearing, so I’ll just preemptively say it’s a sleeved shirt and jean shorts😭

Notes: no physical descriptors used other than the reader having hair & a gorilla grip fr.

The bar's fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting everything in that sickly yellow glow that made blood look even redder. You could still hear your dad's roar echoing in your ears as you walked back to the car, his metal arm clenched so tight the joints made grinding noises.

"Fucking piece of shit," he muttered, his voice rough with rage. His face was flushed, eyes wild. The vein on his forehead pulsed visibly. You trailed behind him, your heart violently hammering against your ribs. You’d seen your dad angry before—hell, you’d seen him lose his temper plenty of times since you were born post-whateverthehelltheydidtohiminthearmy—but never like this. Never with that raw, barely-contained violence crackling in the air around him.

"Dad, it's okay," you said, trying to keep your voice steady even as your hands trembled. "He didn't hurt me. You stopped him." He didn't respond, just yanked open the car door and set you inside before he threw himself into the driver's seat. The space felt suddenly too small, too hot. You could smell the whiskey on his breath, mixed with something metallic and sharp. The drive home was silent except for the engine's rumble and your dad's heavy breathing. You snuck glances at him—his jaw was set, shoulders rigid. His vibranium arm rested on the steering wheel, fingers drumming an agitated rhythm. When he pulled into the driveway, he killed the engine but didn't move. He just sat there, staring straight ahead through the windshield.

"Baby," he said finally, his voice lower now, almost conversational but with an edge that made your stomach clench. "Come here." You unbuckled and moved closer, sliding as close as you could to the center console. Up close, you could see his eyes were still glassy with adrenaline, pupils dilated. His breathing had slowed but wasn't quite back to normal. "You were scared," It wasn't a question. His gaze slid over to you, intense and searching.

"I'm always scared when you get like this. I’m always worried for you." You admitted quietly, and immediately regretted it. Why would I say that? But it was true—you’d learned early on that your dad's rage was something to fear, even if it was never directed at you. His expression darkened. "I would never hurt you. You know that, right?"

"I know."

He reached out with his flesh hand, and you flinched instinctively before catching yourself. His fingers found your chin, tilting your face up to meet his eyes. The touch was firm, possessive. "That fucking bastard thought he could put his hands on you." His voice rasped in an almost broken way. "Did you feel it? His hand on your ass?"

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat.

"Should've let me break his fingers," Dad muttered. "Should've let me—" He stopped himself, jaw working. His thumb rubbed slowly along your jawline, and you felt your pulse spike. This was wrong. This was so wrong, but you couldn't look away. "Dad, we should go inside," you whispered, trying to pull back, but his grip on your chin tightened.

"Inside," he repeated, almost to himself. "Inside where it's safe. Inside where you belong." The words sent a chill down your spine, but not the good kind. There was something in his tone, something that made your skin crawl even as an odd part of you felt... curious? No. No, that couldn't be right.

He released your chin and opened his door, stepping out. You followed, your legs feeling like jelly. The night air was cool against your flushed skin as you walked up to the front door. Inside, the house was dark and quiet. Bucky flicked on the kitchen light, and you stood there, watching him. He was still breathing hard, still agitated. His metal arm hung at his side, fingers flexing and unflexing with an unfinished grudge.

"C’mere, doll," he said again, and this time there was something in his voice that made you hesitate. It was too low; it was too vacant. The words were seemingly spoken by some creature who had taken on your dad’s perfect form, but forgotten the soul in human language. But you went to him anyway. Because that's what you always did. That’s what you would always do. Because he’s your daddy, and you love him, and you need him to be okay. You stopped just a few feet away, and he closed the distance between you in two long strides. He was so large and imposing. You had to tilt my head back to look up at him. "You're my little girl," he said, his voice thick with emotion you couldn't quite name. "My baby girl. God. I love you so much. I care about you so fucking much." His eyes were closed as the words were reverently rasped in a whisper.

His hands came up to rest on your shoulders, and you felt the cool, and then the overwhelming heat through your shirt. His fingers dug in slightly, not quite painful but definitely there.

"Do you understand me?" he asked, resting his forehead against yours— and you knew you had to answer.

"Of course, dad. I always will."

He leaned down, his face close to yours, and you could feel his breath on your skin. "Good girl," he murmured, and then he kissed you. Not on the forehead like he sometimes did when you were little. Not on the cheek like he’d do when you’d leave the house. On the lips. Something so soft at first that it could be mistaken for some sick new familial tradition; but then, then It was hard. Demanding in the way his tongue was pushing against yours. You froze, your brain struggling to process what was happening. This wasn't right. This couldn't be right. But you didn't pull away. You couldn't.

When he finally pulled back, you were both breathing hard. His hands had moved from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you closer. "Fuck," he panted, his forehead resting against yours. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, baby. I just—"

"You don't have to be sorry," you whispered, unsure why you said it. Unsure if you believed it. Unsure if the world would mean it if they saw this.

He kissed you again, softer this time, almost tender. His hand came up to cup your face, thumb brushing over your cheekbone. "I’ll fuckin’ kill every son of a bitch who even looks at you," he said. "I’ll keep you tucked away. Safe. Will always be safe with me." His words came out as a reverent whisper.

And despite everything—the wrongness of it, the fear, the confusion—you felt a strange sense of comfort in his words. Because he was right. You are safe with him. You had always been safe with him. Even if sometimes the most prevalent danger was him. And even if his words were starting to feel dangerously, terrifyingly different. You felt his hand slide from your cheek down to your shoulder, then lower, tracing the curve of your spine through your shirt. Your heart was hammering so hard you were sure he could feel it. This is wrong. But your body wasn't listening to your brain. It was leaning into him, responding to the heat of his touch, the weight of his body pressing against yours. You need to feel his affection, his warmth…his touch so bad. You need what he’s been holding back from you out of fear for too long. "You're so beautiful," he murmured against your ear, and you shivered. "You were so pretty as my little girl…but you’re a woman now, aren't you?" He cooed as you nodded, unable to speak. His hand had found the small of your back, and he was pulling you flush against him. You could feel the hard lines of his body through his clothes, the way his muscles tensed beneath his skin. "I've been watching you," he said, his voice low and rough. "Watching you grow up. Watching you become this..." He trailed off, his hand sliding lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts. "This perfect… young woman. And I've been trying so hard not to think about you like this. But tonight..." He groaned, pressing his face into your hair. "Tonight I need to make sure…I need to— I just can't fight it anymore, baby. I don't want to."

His fingers tugged at your shorts, and you felt a spike of panic. "Daddy, wait—" But he didn't stop. The button popped open, then the zipper slid down. His hand slipped inside to cup you, and you gasped at the foreign contact. "Shhh," he soothed, his lips brushing your neck. "I won't hurt you. I promise. I just need to... I need to make sure you understand.”

His fingers were moving, stroking overtop the sensitive skin there, your panties doing embarrassingly little to tamper the stimulation. You bit down hard on your lower lip to stifle a moan, the faint taste of blood brushing your tongue. It felt so good, so, so bad, but so intensely good. "Dad, this is—" you started, but he cut you off.

"Shh, baby. Let me take care of you. Just like a daddy’s supposed to" He cornered you until your back was uncomfortably pressed to the kitchen counter. He pinned you there with his body. His hand was in your hair, tilting your head back, while his vibranium arm braced against the counter beside you. "Look at me," he commanded, and you did. His eyes were dark, pupils blown out, leaving only a tiny ring of the blue you loved so dearly. "You're going to let me do this," he said with one firm nod which you absentmindedly mirrored. It wasn't a question. And you’re glad it wasn’t. You couldn't answer if you tried. Couldn't even think. His mouth was on yours again, possessive and demanding, his tongue claiming you, studying you, as his fingers finally pulled your shorts down down along with your panties. You felt exposed, vulnerable, and terrifyingly wanted. Would he stop if I begged? Would I beg? Would I ever?

When he finally lifted you up, your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and he groaned against your mouth. "Fuck," he breathed. "You're too good for me. I don’t deserve to worship you." His arms held you firmly to him, a lingering squeeze grounding you before he carried you up the stairs, his arms strong and sure around your body. You buried your face against his neck, breathing in the scent of him—sweat, whiskey and something uniquely him. Your mind was racing, trying to process what was happening, but your body was pliant in his arms, responding to him even as your brain screamed that this was the part where you’re supposed to scream. Fight. Run. Call the police. But who could ever protect you more than your daddy? When he kicked open the door to his bedroom, you gasped. You’d been in here a few times over the years, but never really looked. Never felt you should stay long enough to. But now you saw everything. Photos covered the walls—some of you as a baby, as a toddler, as a teenager, on your 18th, and every month since then. There were of you together, smiling at the camera. And others... others that made your cheeks burn. Pictures of you sleeping, of you in your bikini during your first college spring break, one of you in his oversized shirts with nothing underneath during the particularly hot summers. "Daddy..." you whimpered, your voice shaking. What had he done in here while you stared from your framed corners?

He set you down on the bed, and you looked up at him as he stood over you, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. His shirt was stained with sweat, clinging to his thick corded muscles. "You've been watching me," you reaffirmed his earlier self. It wasn't a question. It was an understanding.

He didn't answer with words. Instead, he reached up and pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the full expanse of his torso. You couldn't look away. He was so big, so powerful. There was a palpable energy coming from him. Something so dark, so incredibly man that you felt yourself shrink under the weight of his stare. The metal of his arm gleamed in the dim light, a stark contrast to the tanned skin spanning his body. His abs were defined with a delicious layer of fleshy meat that suddenly made you want to mark him up as your own with bites and scratches in an instinctive way you didn’t know you had. His chest was broad and muscular. And lower... lower, you could see the outline of his cock through his jeans, thick and long.

"Touch me," he commanded, his voice rough. "I want to feel your hands on me, baby girl."

You hesitated, your fingers hovering over his skin. But then you remembered how he'd been touching you, how he'd been claiming you, how natural it was; if your daddy could do it, so could you; and finally, you reached out. Your fingertips brushed against his chest, feeling the heat of his skin, the firmness of his body. He let out a low groan, his eyes never leaving yours. "That's it," he murmured. "Good girl."

Your hands drifted lower, fingertips tracing the lines of his body; and then you felt it—his cock, hard and thick through the denim. You hesitated, your fingers hovering just above it before he decided for you and reached down, unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them down just enough to free himself. "Go on," he said, his voice thick with desire. "Touch your daddy. Learn what made you. Where you came from."

Your thighs clenched and your stomach hurt with how hard the butterflies hit you. You wrapped your fingers around him as best you could, gasping at the heat; the sheer size of him. He was so much bigger than you’d ever imagined in the daydreams that got away from you and that you’d never admit you had. You could feel the veins running along his shaft and over the ridge of his head. You traced them reverently. "Ohmygosh," you breathed, your eyes wide. "You're too big, dad." You whimpered, big eyes welling with tears. You now understood what was going to happen, and you were trying to process it. But fuck did this catch you off guard

"Shhh, baby," he soothed, his hand coming up to brush away your tears with his thumb. He cupped your face and squished your cheeks, eyes roaming over you with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. "You're going to take me. Every inch. You were made to fit me, angel. I made you for this." His voice was a deep rumble, his eyes fixed on you, and his head nodding slowly; convincing you to fall deeper into him.. "I'm going to fill you up so you'll feel me for days. You'll know exactly who owns this little cunt and body. Every single fucking inch of you."

He kissed you then, deep and claiming, his tongue pushing into your mouth as his hand slid down to grip his cock, guiding it toward you. "I'm going to show you just how much your old man loves you," he whispered roughly against your lips.

His cock brushed against your entrance, and you gasped, a squeal climbing from your throat as your back arched off the bed to move away. He was huge. Too huge. And you felt a sharp sting as he pushed against your entrance. "Relax, baby," he murmured, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit. "Let me in. Let daddy into the pretty cunt he made. All for him-" a moan “All f’me”

You whimpered and sighed his name, trying to relax as he pushed forward to make his head sink into you with a slow, deep thrust. The stretch and pain made you cry, incoherent babbles leaving your mouth as your tears now flowed freely. And then, he stilled; letting you adjust to his size while he struggled to stay composed. "Fuck," he breathed, his eyes pitch black as he looked down at you. "You're so tight. Too fucking tight. You save yourself for me, baby? Yeah? You saved your pretty baby cunt all for your dad.” His hand gripped your face again, giving you a little jostle to focus your glassy crossed eyes back onto him. “Didn’t you, baby? You knew I was the only one for you, huh?"

You couldn't answer beyond a babbled sob, too overwhelmed by him taking up every inch of your body. But deep down, in a place you didn't want to acknowledge, in a place you couldnt, you knew he was right. You had somehow known to save yourself for him. You had always known he was the only one who could handle you, who could love you from start to finish. The only one you wanted. The only one you needed. But you’d just figured it’d like be a nun thing where you’d stay with him forever. But this…oh, this is better. Daddy always did know better than you.

He started to move, slow and deep, his cock dragging along your slick inner walls, the slow grinding from your hips bucking against his making his thrusts stutter every once in a while. The pain was fading, slowly but surely being replaced by a building heat, a pressure that made your legs shake and your hands grabby until they found grounding on his biceps. "That's it," he groaned, his hands gripping your hips. "Take me. Take your daddy's cock."

He picked up the pace, your pussy dragging him back in with every pull back, completely wrapped around him as his thrusts kept coming harder and faster; breaking you in just for him. You could feel every inch of him, every ridge and vein of his thick shaft. Your pussy was clenching around him, gripping him like a vice, and you distantly heard yourself moaning, begging for more. "Daddy, please," I gasped, your hands clawing at his shoulders. "I need—"

He cut you off with a deep, punishing kiss, like he was scolding you for forcing him to this depth of depravity, the kiss quickly turning languid and messy, spit joining the two of you with every separation. Now his hips snapped roughly against you, the hair on his pelvis rubbing your clit whenever he’d drag his cock back in with an upward stroke. "You need me," he growled against your lips. "And I'm going to give you everything. Every. Fucking. Drop."

He shifted his angle, hitting a spot inside you that made your whole body light up. "Oh go-," you cried out, your back bowing off the bed. "Daddy, what—"

"Right there," he purred, his thumb pressing harder on your clit. "That's where you belong. On your old man’s cock, taking my cum."

He fucked you hard, his movements becoming erratic, desperate. You could feel him swelling inside of your walls, his cock throbbing and pulsing, the foreign feeling beyond anything you’ve ever felt or imagined. "I'm gonna fill you up," he warned, his voice strained. "Gonna pump you so full of my cum that you'll walk around leaking me for fucking days. That way you'll always know who you belong to. Gonna get this little cunt pregnant. Make sure you stay with daddy forever” And then he was cumming, pinning you down with a pained moan as his cock pulsed and spurted deep into your womb, painting your insides with his hot seed. You felt it, felt him flooding every inch of you, and it was too much. Everything was too much. Your body was a live wire as the pleasure crashed over you in waves, your own orgasm ripping through you in hot white flashes as you screamed and sobbed his name. He dropped onto his forearms on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his cock still buried inside of you. You were both breathing hard, little whimpers and cries still escaping your kiss swollen lips as your mouths hovered over each other’s, and your bodies glistened, slick with sweat. "So good f’me," he whispered against your neck, his voice hoarse. "My perfect little girl. Always knew it."

You lay there, dazed and sated in a way so deep in your soul, you never thought it possible. Your body trembled with aftershocks. Eventually, he pulled away slowly, his cock easing out with a wet sound. He held himself up, bicep flexing as he admired his cum leaking out of your pussy. He looked down at the mess, a possessive grin spreading across his face. "Look at that," he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. "All of me inside you. Took it like a champ, babygirl”

His hand slid down to cup your swollen pussy, his fingers brushing through the sticky mess of your sex. Entranced by it and how the red, white, and slick mess proved your unity. He claimed you. Fully and completely. In every way that mattered.

The end

A/n; this is my first time participating in an event and I’m nearly positive I fucked it up💔💔💔 I hope yal enjoy the fic tho!! Came outta the WOODWORKS fah this one🤞🏻🤞🏻 also, I switched the pov from first to second like…three times bc I base my decisions on whimsy, and then immediately regret it…so pls lmk if anything’s wonky. And also tumblr glitched and closed out while I was tagging and stuff, so idk man. Idk

[theoracleofsin]

hi, little sinners. we all know we've been entertaining a very special individual who has been targeting dddne accounts for the past few days. i've kept them unblocked until now because it's honestly amusing to see someone be so convinced they're right when they're incredibly in the wrong.

however, the moment you start threatening people with sexual assault is the moment the whimsy fun is over. what you're not going to do is threaten real people with abuse over fictional characters/stories. not on my blog. not on my comments. funtime is over.

[theoracleofsin]

regarding the conversation being held everywhere about dddne content, more specifically incest & noncon cenarios:

as a person who runs a blog focused solely on dddne content, let me tell you some funny lore.

the people you see reblogging those "incest in fiction is disgusting, who would write that?" are frequently on my notes, liking my posts (but not openly reblogging them) or in my DMs telling me they like my fics, again, without publicly endorsing it. reading in private because no one can know they read that filth.

your favorite fic writers? many of them have separate accounts dedicated to dddne while preaching puritanism on their main accounts, in order to appease the masses and not get hate for it.

the people who consistently say they block tags, who block people they deem as "pedos" even though no one here is writing fiction with minors? none of them have ever blocked me, or other accounts that i interact with. we all see them constantly in the tags we use, then complaining that things are not tagged even though they chase it constantly. tumblr does not have an algorithm. you find what you choose to look for.

i hope you all have fun continuously praying for censorship of media and fictional content, that truly is the downfall of society (i don't know what to tell you if you can't understand this is sarcasm).

[cottontail-confessionals]

in the stormy sea of tumblr dot com with the rising tsunami of puritan culture, you can always count on ruby to read you all to filth.

leave us alone if you don’t like it, but continuing to say you get amusement out of trying to ‘take down the dddne blogs’ is a little sad. may i interest you in an actual hobby? like why don’t those who are so upset by what we write, write their own stories instead of giving us attention? be the change you want to see in the world.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

I don’t care how disgusting or fucked up a fic is. NO writer should EVER be harassed for writing taboo fics, especially when the warnings are properly tagged and you choose to go ahead and read them on your own free will.

you’re not morally superior for harassing real people for the sake of fictional characters and fictional stories. you’re just a bully.

[hail-marys]

i need dad!bucky and uncle!steve... i yearn for filthy smut

I'm so sorry anon but I am a certified Steve hater!

[theoracleofsin]

our own pink world

Prompt: anon requested dad!bucky with “I’ll breed you in the nursery I painted for you.” for my Valentine's Dead Dove event ! Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Daughter!Reader Word Count: 1,4k Tags: DDDNE (dead dove do not eat); incest; father/daughter; porn without plot; daddy kink (barely there); breeding kink (heavy!!! obviously if you read the prompt); praise kink (kinda); childhood bedroom sex; p in v; unprotected sex; creampie; use of pet names (little girl, baby girl); Bucky is sweet and soft; age gap but reader is of age!! (mentioned to be twenty five)

The soft bristles of the paintbrush glide over the wall, leaving behind a fresh coat of pale pink, the same color Bucky had chosen all those years ago, before you were even born. He takes a step back, wiping a smear of paint from his vibranium arm, survying the room with quiet satisfaction. The nursery-turned-bedroom has seen you through every stage: the crib where he rocked you to sleep, the toddler bed where you threw tantrums, the full-sized one where you’d spent nights studying for college admission.

Now, at twenty five, you are a woman, but this room still holds the echoes of his little girl.

Today, he’d started repainting on a whim, or maybe nostalgia. The walls had faded over time, but Bucky had wanted it perfect again. Nothing but always perfect for you. He sets the brush down on the drop cloth, the scent of fresh paint lingering in the air. The furniture is pushed to the center, covered in plastic, and the window lets in the late afternoon soon.

The door opens, and he hears the sound of your light footsteps on the hardwood floor. “Dad? I know you said to stay out of the bedroom today, but—” Your voice goes quiet as your eyes widen and you take in the transformation. The room looks brand new, like stepping into a cherished memory from your childhood. Bucky watches you admire his handywork, blue eyes lingering on the oversized sweater swallowing your frame.

For months now, you two had blurred your relationship. Father, lover, all the same. No one knew. No one had to.

“Surprise,” he says with a smirk tugging at his lips. He wipes his hands on a nearby rag, but you can still see a speck of pink pain on his cheek. “Thought it was time to freshen it up. Same color as always.”

You step closer, arms wrapped around your upper body like you’re hugging yourself. “I like this color. Think I always will. Maybe because you chose it for me.”

The words aren’t meant with any weight, but they feel heavy nonetheless. Bucky approaches you, his expression softening, before he stops behind you and wraps his vibranium arm around your shoulders, pulling you to him. His lips press a chaste kiss to the top of your head. “Always knew this color would be perfect for you. My little girl. And now, look at you. All grown up.”

Half a beat later, your breath is hitching as his human hand slides to your waist. Not demanding, just resting there. "I’m still your little girl,” you tell him, quietly, staring up at the pink walls.

Bucky leans in, and this time he presses a kiss to the spot behind your ear. “Not really. But that’s okay. I love the grown up version of you even more.” Warm fingers dig into your hip, and he almost absentmindedly rolls his hips into yours once. “But I miss seeing this room with a baby. Makes me think… maybe we could work on that.”

Heat pools in your core, body responding instinctively to him. When did your relationship with your dad become this fucked up? Months ago, when you’d returned from college, life in the city too hard for you to keep up with by yourself. He’d offered you back your childhood bedroom, of course, it had always been yours; what you hadn’t expected was to find so much more than your dad behind the figure of Bucky Barnes. Since you’d come back, you had erased family rules one too many times. In the kitchen, in the backyard, in his bed. Never really here, in your pink sanctuary.

“What do you mean?” You ask, though you already know the answer.

Bucky turns you on his hold, his eyes locked onto yours. “I’ll breed you in the nursery I painted for you.” Paint flecks still dust his forearms, that one paint streak across his cheekbone. His hand reaches out, slowly, and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “If you let me. If you want me to.”

You only nod before he crashes his mouth against yours, hungry and demanding. You melt into him, hands fisting his white tank top as he backs you toward the bed. The plastic crinkles and complains loudly under your as he lowers you onto the mattress, but you’re thankful to have at least something separating the sin happening between the two of you from the ever holy childhood plushies under you.

His hands roam, stripping away your sweater, your bra, exposing your skin to the cool air. “Always the most beautiful girl,” he murmurs, lips trailing down your neck. Your back arches off the bed and into him, fingers tangling in his hair as he peels off your pants, leaving you bare beneath him. Then his jeans hit the floor, followed by his boxers. He’s hard, flushed dark at the tip, already glistening with a bead of precome. With no preamble, he crawls over you, caging you with his arms, and kisses you again, warm tongue prodding into your mouth while he rubs himself against your core. You push your own panties down and not a second later Bucky is pushing his hard length against you, ready to slide home.

“Tell me you want it,” he whispers into your lips as he teases your entrance. “Fuck, baby girl, tell me you want me to—”

“Yes,” you interrupt him, spreading your legs wider for him. “Yes, Dad, I want it.”

With a deep groan, he thrusts into you and filling you completely. Every time, the sensation was overwhelming. Your walls always clenched hard around him, your pussy warm and velvety and always so wet for him. The bed creaks softly as he begins fucking into you slowly but hard, hips snapping into yours and balls slapping against your ass. His hands grip your hips, pulling you closer with each stroke. “My pretty girl,” he says between the sound of skin slapping against skin. “Daddy loves you so much. Daddy’s gonna love you even more when you’re round and swollen with our baby.”

You moan, nails digging into his back, the coil in your belly tightening. Bucky knows exactly every inch of you, every spot that makes you shatter, but this newfound desire, his words burning into you like a brand, make the moment so much hotter than before. You realize, while he’s driving himself inside of you a bit faster, whispering your name between breaths, that the idea of him breeding you means more than anything else has ever meant to you.

You gasp as he thrusts particularly hard, the base of him pressing right against your clit. “Please, Dad… I want it. I want your baby.”

His rhythm falters for a second, hips punching forward. “Yeah. That’s right.” Another thrust, sharper. “Been dreaming about this. About putting my baby in my baby.” The words are too filthy, too impossible, and they lit you up from the inside. “Gonna come so deep you’ll be dripping for days.”

You moan, loud enough that it echoes off the fresh walls. His hand slid down, fingers finding your clit, sending sparks right hrough your veins like lightning.

“Come on my cock first,” he orders, never mean but always firm. “Let me feel it. Let me feel my girl come while I breed her.”

The world narrows to him; the scent of sex and sweat, the pink walls blurring as your vision goes white. Pleasure crashes over you like a wave, body trembling as you cry out into the crook of his neck as your whole body seizes around him. Bucky follows moments later, burying himself deep and filling you up until you feel the excess slip out around his cock, warm against your skin.

For a while, he stays pressed against you, his body a comforting weight. When he finally eases out, he rolls to his side and tugs you against his chest, one heavy arm draped over your waist, palm flat over your lower belly like he can already feel something taking root.

"Take a nap" he whispers, kissing your forehead. “I’ll wake you up in a few hours and do it again. Gotta make sure it takes.”

[hail-marys]

Soaked

pairing: dad!bucky x reader warnings: MDNI. incest. watersports. fingering. m!masturbation dddne! the dove is so dead. it's cold. cannot be revived. word count: 1.1k

By the time Bucky gets home, you're so full it's painful. You’re practically squirming where you stand, shifting your weight from one foot to another. The slam of his car door sends a jolt of excitement through you, your heart rate increasing as the front door opens.

The moment he’s inside your dad kicks off his shoes and drops his bag, beelining to where you wait in the living room, clad only in an old shirt of his and your underwear.

Gently, Bucky lifts up your shirt and lays a soft hand on your swollen bladder. "Did you do what I told you to, baby?"

You nod, biting your lip. You’d followed his instructions to the letter, drinking water whenever he texted you, avoided the bathroom no matter how bad you had to go. Which had left you aching and desperate, so full you think you might burst.

“Shit. You’re so good for me, you know that?” Bucky says, loosening his tie.

Your dad is quick to rid himself of his clothes right there in the living room, too eager to move the two of you to the bedroom. His shirt comes first, tossed aside to pool on the floor, soon joined by his pants and his boxers. He’s half hard already, has been since he pulled into the driveway, his cock hanging heavy as he steps in front of you.

Bucky guides your shirt up and over your head, discarding it by the rest of his clothes. You hook a finger under your panties, moving to shimmy them down but Bucky stops you. He likes seeing them soaked knowing that he’s the reason, whether it’s with your arousal or something else.

Hands on your hips he backs you both up towards the couch. Bucky sits, pulling you to straddle him, your hands braced on his shoulders. As he maneuvers you, your bladder jostles. Before you can stop it you leak, a wet spot spreading in your panties before you get it under control.

Bucky pouts. “Poor thing. You gotta go so bad, don’t you sweetheart?”

You whimper and nod. He runs his thumb over the wet spot, traveling upwards to rub against your clit. When he takes his thumb away you start to complain, until you see him suck his thumb into his mouth. He hums, eyes closing momentarily at the taste.

“You always taste so good, baby girl. Tell daddy how bad you have to go.”

“It hurts, daddy,” you whine. “I can’t hold it anymore!”

His cock jerks and he grips the base of it with a stuttering breath. “Okay. Okay. Let go just a little bit baby. Theeere you go, good girl. Fuck."

You let go for only a few seconds, pee hissing out in a desperate rush. It pools in your panties, seeping through to Bucky’s waiting cock. Your bladder cramps once you cut off your stream but the pain is worth it when you hear your dad’s breathy groan, see the way his hand fists his cock, using your pee as lube.

The sight beneath you has your cunt pulsing, clenching around nothing. The slick, wet sound of it is obscene, the sheen of wetness on his skin intoxicating.

Bucky stills his hand and directs you closer. He pulls your panties to the side this time, moving his cock just under you, the tip prodding at your wet folds. “Go again, just a little bit. Good girl, that’s enough. Stop, baby.”

This time when he says stop you cry out. The pain is worse when you stop this time, your bladder screaming at being denied release yet again. You whimper, bouncing lightly on your knees. You can feel it pressing against your hole, an incessant burn that throbs.

You look down at Bucky, your breath catching at the debauched sight. His skin is wet with your pee, his cock hard, red and angry in his hand. It’s almost like he’s the one holding, with how heavy he’s breathing. The slow stroke of his hand, pupils blown wide and dark, it’s easy to imagine a different scenario. One where he’s as desperate as you, touching himself to keep from leaking. The thought overtakes you for a moment, your mind going hazy at the thought of holding with him, of letting go together.

You lose yourself in the fantasy so completely that you leak again, a dribble running down the inside of your thigh. You gasp, hand flying to press between your legs. Your dad tuts and grabs your wrist, moving your hand back to his shoulder.

“Please! Please, I gotta go so bad!” If you weren’t straddling him your legs would be pressed together. Anything to help you hold, to keep from disappointing him.

“Please who?”

“Daddy! Please! Ahhh, I can’t hold it!

“Go ahead baby, piss all over your daddy,” he says, fisting his cock, eyes trained right between your legs.

With a heavy sigh you let go, the rush of relief nearly orgasmic as your overfull bladder finally empties. Your moan is pornographic, the molten pleasure only heightened when your dad moves his free hand to rub over your folds as you release. Hot urine soaks Bucky’s cock, splashes up to his chest as he strokes your clit with his free hand. It pools underneath him, his balls sitting in the puddle, splashing with every upward thrust of his hips into his fist.

“Such a good girl for me, shit, you really had to go, didn’t you? Love watching you let go like this. Oh fuck, I’m—“ Bucky comes with a strangled moan, thick ropes of cum shooting straight onto your cunt and into your stream, washing back down over his hand, his cock, pooling in the mess around his balls.

The moment your stream ends Bucky has two fingers buried in your cunt, the sound of your arousal and pee squelching as he drives them in and out.

“You hear that? So fuckin’ wet for me. My dirty little girl likes pissing all over her daddy, doesn’t she?” Bucky hisses. His thumb rolls over your clit, fingers bullying against your sweet spot. When you don’t answer he moves his hand from your clit to smack your thigh. “Say it!”

“Fuck! Love pissing all over you daddy. Ohh I’m gonna come, please let me come, daddy please!”

Bucky curses low. He goes back to rubbing your clit with a new determination behind his movements. “Go on baby. Come for me.”

You come with a strangled groan, legs shaking as you collapse against him. You keep shaking even as the aftershocks fade, and when Bucky shifts you back to capture your lips in a sweet kiss you melt further into him.

“So fuckin’ good for me, my filthy little girl.”

[hail-marys]

bucky barnes p!links pt.1!

tw: incest, w@tersports, twitter links, DDDNE, 18+ MDNI

the video brother!bucky sends you when you're out with friends (m!masturbation, p!ss play)

and the video you send brother!bucky next time he's out (f!masturbation, p!ss play)

dad!bucky making you wet yourself while he fucks you (riding, p!ss play)

dad!bucky who just wants to make sure you stay hydrated (bondage, p!ss play, wetting)

dad!bucky just wants to make sure you're full part 2 (p!ss play)

helping your big brother out is fine, right? (mutual masturbation)

dad!bucky loves when you piss on him part 2 part 3 part 4 (p!ss play)

brother!bucky taking care of you (spooning)

dad!bucky just wants you to feel good (missionary, clit play)

it's not your fault your daddy tastes so good (cum eating)

making your pathetic brother hold until he can't (p!ss play)

brother!bucky marking you as his (p!ss play)

riding dad!bucky (riding)

dad!bucky who pulls out (cum play)

brother!bucky who loves playing with you (pussy job)

making a mess with brother!bucky (p!ss play)

[virtuousthievery]

who: brother!bucky x sister!reader

what: your older brother bucky helps you through your disordered eating with a reward system.

warnings: incest. fingering. reader has an eating disorder. dddne. this is a work of fiction. i do not condone or participate in the activities written below. minors get lost & read with caution.

you push the vegetables around your plate, unable to stomach another forkful that you know you won’t keep down.

“are you sure you’re full, honey? you barely touched your chicken,” your mom asks sweetly.

you nod. “i just had a big lunch. i’m not that hungry.”

your brother gently knocks his knee against yours under the table, nodding at your plate. “c’mon sis, one more bite.”

you sigh and take a bite of green beans, chewing and swallowing slowly, willing yourself not to gag.

“good job,” he says. his hand finds the hem of your dress and he traces a heart on your thigh—his way of telling you he’ll reward you later.

“thanks,” you whisper, pushing your plate forward to signal that you won’t be eating anything else.

“it’s so nice having you both home this summer,” your mom says, looking from bucky to you. his hand trails up your dress as he squeezes your thigh, fingers brushing the soft cotton of your underwear.

you straighten your spine and smile at your parents. “it’s so nice, yes,” you mutter. and really, you can’t complain; your parents are kind and supportive, but they are also incredibly unobservant. their nonchalance is a quality that bucky cherishes, especially right now when he has a finger hooked into your panties, delicately touching your swollen bud.

“well, mom and i are going for our nightly walk,” your dad announces as he collects your dinner plates. “you know, you kids should join us. the fresh air would do you both some good.”

“i’m kinda—ahhh—tired, dad,” you spit out. “sorry, i thought i was about to sneeze.”

bucky removes his hands and wipes it on your dress. “yeah, and i told steve i’d hop on rivals after dinner.”

“fine, but later this week, come with us, okay?” your mom says as she finishes her wine.

“sure thing,” he answers for both of you.

—

when your parents are gone, you both finish loading the dishwasher. bucky shuts it with a soft click. “so? what does my brave girl want?”

you swallow and glance quickly at his fingers that were circling you moments ago. he walks toward you and kisses your neck. “you want my fingers, sissy?”

“yes,” you beg.

“okay, but first i want some dessert,” he says as he opens the refrigerator. his eyes dart around, looking for something that he knows won’t be too difficult for you after already eating at dinner. barely eating. he pulls out the small basket of raspberries and sets them on the counter. “eat one with me.”

your mouth turns down subconsciously. you already ate 4 bites of chicken and 6 green beans. “buck…”

“you can do it. you’ll need the calories to burn when i take you upstairs anyway,” he explains, holding a single raspberry out to you. you take it begrudgingly. he pops his into his mouth and guides your hand to your lips. “open for me. it’s sweet like you. eat one, baby.”

you finally let the raspberry hit your tongue and bite down. the tart sweetness bursts into your mouth and you smile for just a flash, but he catches it.

“look at me,” he says. “i need you to eat 5 more. if you do that for me, i’ll use my fingers and my mouth on you.”

“bucky, 5 is too many,” you say, voice cracking.

“baby girl, you can do it. i’m right here with you.”

he eats each one with you, taking his time, caressing your cheek as you swallow each one. “that’s a good girl.”

when you meet your quota, he scoops you over his shoulder and runs up the stairs to his bedroom, plopping you down on his duvet. “big brother is so proud of you,” he rasps, kissing your neck. your body is vibrating with anticipation as he kisses down your neck and chest, lifting your dress and pulling down your underwear.

“thank you,” you squeak out, knowing that without him things would be much worse. he knows just how much to push, and when to let you draw the line.

“i’m gonna make you cum tonight and take you to breakfast tomorrow like a normal couple, okay? you’re making progress, whether you feel like you are or not,” he says as he’s between your legs. “now look at me when i eat this pussy.”

“yes big brother.”

[virtuousthievery]

who: brother!bucky x sister!reader

what: your twin brother bucky loves when it's that time of the month.

warnings: incest. cunnilingus and period sex. unprotected p in v. creampie. dddne. this is a work of fiction. i do not condone or participate in the activities written below. minors get lost & read with caution.

your brother loves to see those little red x’s marked on your calendar. it means there’s no evidence of your late night sleepovers. no life growing inside of you that you’d have to explain to your parents. nothing tangible that ties you to him.

plus he loves the taste on his tongue.

you wrap yourself in a towel as you get out of your bubble bath. the heat of the water always helps with your cramps. they are always the worst during the first couple days of your period. a soft knock sounds on the bathroom door, and you know it’s him.

“come in,” you call out.

your twin brother, bucky, walks in with a piece of dark chocolate and a glass of ice water. “how you feeling, angel baby?” he holds the chocolate square in front of you, and you open your mouth to accept it. it’s perfectly bitter with just a hint of sweetness and you close your eyes, relishing the flavor. bucky’s thumb lingers on your lower lip, and you plant a kiss on it.

“still hurting,” you whine, looking up at him with wanting eyes.

“good thing mom and dad are staying in the city tonight. i can take care of you. do you want to sleep in my room?” he takes the paddle brush from the vanity and starts to brush your hair, looking at your reflection in the mirror.

“i don’t want to ruin your sheets,” you mutter.

“hey, look at me,” he says, turning your face up toward his. his blue eyes are soft and caring. “if that happens, it’s nothing some cold water and a spin cycle won’t fix. besides, i love when you spend the night in my bed.”

you sigh and tilt your head back so it rests against his stomach. he bends down and kisses your forehead. "c'mon sis, let me make you feel better."

you stand up slowly and tuck the towel under your arm, covering yourself as you follow your brother to his room hand-in-hand. it's a routine by now... bathe, towel on the bed first, then your naked body on top. bucky loves to see you spread across his sheets. he knows every freckle and scar that marks your body like the back of his hand. you've shared everything in this life, so what's the harm in this, really? the guilt and shame that used to bubble to the surface during these moments has evaporated and been replaced by familial love that has blossomed into something more. something that aches when you're apart.

"so beautiful," he whispers against the delicate skin of your inner thighs. "open up for me, pretty baby."

you spread your legs and he smiles, hooking one over his shoulder.

"is it too much?" you whisper, feeling the wetness between your thighs as you're exposed to the cool air. his eyes flash darkly up to yours and then back down, taking it all in.

"you're never too much for me, angel. don't worry about anything," he murmurs, running his nose up the seam of your thigh. "just close your eyes and let me make a mess."

you lie your head back against his pillows and shut your eyes just as you feel the first lick, followed by a deep hum. he moves up the bed, pressing your thighs to your chest and fucking you with his tongue. he works a circuit with his mouth like a figure eight starting at your clit with a wet pop before moving back down to your tight heat and up again. it's torturous, but the way he's making you pulse around him is helping the pain of the cramps. "thank you buck," you manage to whimper, fisting at his hair.

"mmm, you're welcome sis," he says into your pussy. he looks up at you with a devious smile and looks like a wild animal that's feasting on prey. his lips and cheeks are painted red and his pupils are blown wide. he licks his lips and closes his eyes, savoring you. "i'll always take care of my girl."

"bucky baby, make love to me," you whisper, holding his face in your hands. he wipes his mouth with the towel and pulls down his sweatpants. you've memorized every vein, but it never ceases to make your stomach flip when you see his dick hard and flushed just for you. he leans down and kisses you, his tongue sliding softly against yours.

"you taste like me," you whisper with a shy laugh.

"good," he says, lining himself up at your entrance as you wrap your legs around him. "i don't want to ever taste like anyone else. just my--" he thrusts into you, "angel girl."

his mouth is all over your neck and breasts, sucking and kissing like he'll never have you again as he keeps up his steady rhythm. "fuck baby, you feel so good... hnghhh... i..."

"come on me," he grunts, sucking a hickey into your breast. "come on my dick pretty girl. don't hold back on me."

his hands finds its way onto your clit and he rubs it with the perfect amount of pressure. you wrap your ankles around his waist, locking him in as your orgasm builds. "don't stop," you whimper. "don't stop, i'm gonna!" you grab his ass, pushing him deeper inside of you and keeping him there while you clamp down around him. bucky lets out a soft moan as he twitches inside of you, releasing his spend. you both stay like that for a few moments, breathing into each other's skin and playing with the other's hair.

"you're so pretty like this," he says.

"like what?"

he smiles and kisses you before answering, "under me. taking me. it's where we both belong."

"i love you," you whisper as he pulls out carefully before scooping you into his arms.

"i will always love you," he says, planting a kiss on your shoulder. "how are you feeling?"

"much better," you admit, nuzzling into his chest. your cramps are gone for the moment, at least.

"good. now you stay here. i'll be right back to clean you up and bring you whatever you need. you want to sleep in one of my henleys?" he sits up and gets out of the bed, pulling on his shorts.

you nod and he smiles, pulling one off a hanger in his closet. "don't go anywhere, angel. ever."

"i'm yours forever."

[virtuousthievery]

who: stepdad!bucky x stepdaughter!reader

what: when did you get hot all of a sudden? i could lick you up and down all day. bucky wants to fuck his stepdaughter... and she might just want him back.

warnings: stepcest. cheating. breeding kink. unprotected p in v. creampie. no aftercare. dddne. this is a work of fiction. i do not condone or participate in the activities written below. minors get lost & read with caution.

he shouldn’t be looking at you like this.

he shouldn’t be spying on you while you relax.

he definitely shouldn’t have his hand wrapped around his cock, furiously fisting himself in the pool house as he bites back whimpers of pleasure.

but he’s just a man, desperate & aching for release.

and you’re just his stepdaughter. his beautiful, innocent, doe-eyed, sinful stepdaughter walking around the pool like you own the place.

the deliciously small triangles of pink fabric barely contain your tits, and he watches as you lean over a lounge chair, reaching for your towel.

the first few weeks of summer break had him averting your gaze at every moment because when did you grow up so fast? when did your body become so… fucking breedable?

you spread the towel on the ground by the pool and lay down on your stomach, but not before you untie the strings of your bikini top to avoid tan lines. the strings fall to your sides, tickling your skin, and you situate yourself so your breasts aren’t completely exposed.

bucky watches from the tinted window, his gaze roaming up your bare feet to your soft calves and thighs. he jerks himself fiercely as his eyes reach your ass and hips. oh how he wishes he could feel the flesh of your curves in his hands as he paints your gorgeous back with his seed. but no, you’re his stepdaughter. it’s forbidden. you’re… off limits. you’re fucking… barely twenty-one. you’re… turning over onto your back now and—

“oops,” you whisper, forgetting to tie your bikini top before switching positions. your pert nipples are on full display for a few seconds before you adjust the fabric, but that’s all he needs. just a glimpse. just a fucking taste.

“fuck me,” bucky grunts, coming all over his hand as drops of cum fall onto your pile of dirty laundry in the hamper he’s standing above. you asked to stay in the pool house this summer, and he agreed. you are an adult, after all, and want your privacy.

“ah, fuck,” he grumbles, picking up a t-shirt from the hamper and using it to clean himself. the door opens as he’s zipping himself up and you jump.

“jamie!” you yelp, bringing a hand to your heart. “what are you doing in here?! i thought you were still at work!”

bucky swallows and picks up the hamper full of your dirty clothes. “no, honey. i work half days on fridays, remember? your mom asked me to start some laundry.”

you relax and pull at the necktie of your bikini, assessing him—he looks flushed. “i didn’t see you come in when i was out there.”

he sets the hamper down and runs a hand through his hair. it’s a nervous tic of his you’ve picked up on over the years. “you were sunbathing,” he mutters, gesturing to the pool.

“right,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him. "when will mom be home?" you play with your bikini bottom strings when you ask before trailing your finger along the hem. he looks because of course he looks, and then his eyes meet yours again.

"she, she... uh... late. something about grading essays..." he mutters. his adam's apple bobs up and down once as he swallows, and you swear you can see his pulse fluttering in his neck.

"oh good," you sigh, pulling the strings of your top loose as you throw it into the hamper at his feet. "is this what you want, jamie?"

bucky closes his mouth as it suddenly feels bone dry. his eyes flit from your exposed breasts to the smug expression on your face. “what?” you ask, tugging on the strings of your bottoms and letting them fall to the floor. you're now completely exposed before him, and his cock is at full attention under his gym shorts. "d'you think i'm blind, daddy?" you ask playfully, taking a step toward him. "i know how much you want this young pussy... so take it."

his hands clench into fists at his sides as a pathetic sound escapes his throat. "we can't," he whispers, eyes raking down your eager body.

you walk toward him now and trail a hand down his arm. his skin immediately erupts in goosebumps. taking his hand in yours, you bring it to your bare stomach. "do you want to breed me, daddy? have your way with me? i can pretend i don't want it if that turns you on."

"jesus christ, honey..." he groans, clutching at the flesh of your stomach. his resolve snaps at the feel of your soft skin and his hands grip your hips, pulling you into him. his mouth finds the hollow of your throat as he pushes his shorts and underwear down. he inhales your scent and hisses as he sucks a hickey into your skin. "bend over the hamper."

he spins you around and presses your face into the dirty laundry. you feel the sticky warmth on your cheek from the t-shirt on top and hum deeply as you know exactly what your step daddy was doing in here alone minutes earlier. “spread your legs.” you do.

seconds later you feel the hot press of him—just the tip. your eyes roll back into your head as he presses your face further into the laundry. “don’t scream.”

your belly flips at his dark commands and you whisper, “yes daddy.”

“that’s right. call me daddy when i take you. god, you’re so fucking wet already. depraved little slut wants her stepdaddy to fill her up. don’t you? you want me to fill your sweet pussy up? stretch her out real good for daddy?”

you whimper and bite your lip, “please, i can take it!”

he sheaths himself inside of you in one swift thrust, gripping your hip with one hand and fisting your hair with the other. “oh, i’ll make damn sure you take it.”

the symphony of breaths, moans, and even a couple yelps from you are the prettiest music he’s ever heard, and the sound alone makes him start twitching in your intensely tight heat as you squeeze him, coming undone around him. “good girl,” he grunts. “i’m close.”

“breed me!” you beg, hands fisting into the clothes in the hamper.

“daddy’s gonna breed you, honey. don’t worry. you won’t leave for school in the fall without my fucking baby in you,” he rasps, using your body like a ragdoll. “here it comes.”

you feel the warmth spreading in your core before you hear his moans of pleasure and repeated whispers of “goodgirlgoodgirlgoodgirl” in your ear. he pulls out with a squelch and spanks your ass hard. “she looks so pretty with me leaking outta her. now stand up and go shower before your mother gets home.”

“yes daddy.”

[kittiescraft]

bunny boy

pairing: bunny!bucky x puppy!reader

cw: hybrids, sub!bucky, desperate!reader, humping, thigh/ass humping, (accidental) mattress humping, coming untouched, messy sex, cum in pants and mattress, scent gland licking, no beta — (1.7k)

a/n: aaa im so sorry this is kinda wack, i got tired at the end bc i have so many requests to get done and dusted and im so so sleepy as of late :(( apologies for any and all mistakes <3

“C’mon, Buck! Just a little, please!”

your begs are futile. whines and cries aching your throat as you climb atop your roomie.

‘weekly study date’, Bucky liked to call them. a nice night within each other presence just getting on with work, talking, asking questions, helping each other out — in more ways than one, kind of like now.

Bucky lays on his stomach, overheating laptop propped up on one of his pillows, the fan whirring on like white noise. you situate yourself on the backs of his thighs with a huff, his soft coco powder cottontail poking out the seam of his jeans, wiggling with frustration and anxiety.

the deadline was edging closer and closer, the tick of the timer, an unwavering hassle, ran through his mind with each passing minute, a taunt to his poor conscious. he hates how warm you feel on his thighs, your whines make his lungs tight and ribs ache with want. he’s never been so happy that he’s sitting on his tummy, strained chub hidden, sandwiched between him and the mattress like a dirty little secret. what he thought was an easy fix by trapping the problem against his waistband, only came back to bite (or, in this case, hump) him in the ass.

bucky’s face flushes red, a soft strain leaking darker and darker the more you wiggle into his ass. he can feel the pink seeping through his skin like spilled ink, cramping his muscles, flowing to the tips of his floppy little ears, down his neck, and to his chest, where it finally takes home.

a want — a need — so desperate, so mutually assured, he can barely hold onto himself.

he knows how worked up you can get, especially during stressful situations. your body seems to be pavlov’d, clit aching and sore, all the tension building from work sneaking deeper and deeper into your core until it manifests into heat. a natural stress relief, they say. masturbation, sex even, was perfect for that.

“awh, c’mon pup, I gotta get this done in like,” his eyes flash to the clock in the corner of his screen, teeth blanching the soft skin of his bottom lip. He lets out a whispered curse, whiny and skittish — the perfect pitch to send your urges tumbling to a full landslide. his poor heart beat firm in his chest, its a wonder you don’t even feel it, and if you do you’re too worked up in your own little boisterous bubble to notice. “Two hours! Two hours, and then it’s done, i swear! J-Jus’ lemme, ohh—“

what bucky never takes in mind at these times is two hours in your little head is a lifetime. two hours of weekdays spent sitting around, head tilted, sitting patiently at the door waiting for your roomie to come back. two hours of whining and yapping until your bunny boy finally gives in and lets you use him however you like.

“thats too looong!” you exclaimed, shuffling yourself against his legs again. too consumed by your own worries to realise you’re carelessly bucking his hips into the mattress below, his poor aching cock rutting into the belt of his jeans, sensitive as ever.

bucky curses himself for trying to fix it earlier, he can feel himself leaking, sticky and warm all over his happytrail. the bunny knows he can easily turn over and give you exactly what you crave — quickly rutting into you with all his might, all gasping breaths and sticky air — but theres something about the need. the way you’re touching him without any knowledge, the way his pre soaks the duvet and his shirt with a hunger so sharp, it knots his stomach over and over again.

“pup, can’t you just… ohh fu-uck” the devil on his shoulder was overriding the angel, temptation growing with every carnal push you give. paws poking at his little tail, making it wag with impatience (and pent up horniness).

your ears perk up at his murmurs and whines, head tilted softly with his sounds. the coil, the desire, knots inside of you.

the insides of your thighs tingle, chest burning as your nipples perk behind your bra. you cant help but feel powerful in your position — atop your bunny, groin to his ass, already rocking back and forth — you take advantage of it.

you lean down into him, front to his back, his breath stutters with your motion, a startled squeak from his mouth. you hold him tightly in your paws, digging beneath his tummy to get better leverage — Bucky’s never been so glad you cant feel his sticky tip, just mere inches away, peeking out his jeans.

digging your face into his back, smushing your cheek against his shirt trying to capture his scent, swallow it whole, keep him all to yourself. his eyes shut tight with your hot breath searing through the fabric.

soft tufts of fluff on his spine dampening with each pant you give. “hngh— can… can i, Buck?” you don’t even wait for a confirmation, your hips move without hesitation. humping into his ass in steady motions, an easy tempo, grounding into him — jeans on jeans — the sound so blasphemously devastating.

“Jus—just keep on wi—huuh… with your work,” your breath stuck to his back like honey, warm and tacky, like nothing he’d ever felt before.

and your words, so naive and stupidly sweet. ‘keep on with your work’, as if you werent pushing his chub harder and harder into the mattress beneath you both. Bucky wills himself to keep quiet, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip to keep gentle pants and groans within himself. but dogs can sniff out almost anything.

“can… can hear you, Buck… you’re so cute, little noises—fuck!”

your voice, so breathy, so warm, buring on your tongue. the way your hips ground into his ass, fabric on fabric, harder and harder, faster and faster as you gripped onto his middle so tight Bucky prayed your hold left marks later -- a claim on yours, as if your scents werent already exchanged.

your words, your touch, you, spurred him on. rolling his hips in time with yours, keeping up with your pace. his scut wagged with his arousal, with each pump your hips gave, pushing his own down. the soft fluff of his tail skimmed your tummy, shirt riding up top of his back. the feeling hit your pelvis, his silkiness ticking your belly so good, your brain blanked — drunk on his tenderness, how lax he was in your arms.

you leaned your head up, face nuzzled next to his, your panting breaths warm against his blushing cheek. nosing against his velvety ears, you couldnt stop the whine from your vocal cords at the touch, "so, so soft, Bucky... can feel you in my tummy — so good like this..."

his body flexed beneath you, new spurts of pre coating his fluffy abdomen and sheets with a pitched groan, the kind that hit you both where you really needed, the kind that got your clit pulsing against the fabric, and his cock twitching. your hips kept moving, a desperate rut into his flesh like you're trying to fuck him, and he doesn't mind that one bit.

his mind blanked, stayed blank. the only thing passing his poor dribbling lips were feeble gasps and exhales, continuing to make a mess of his poor little mouth, so full of spit, he couldn't help but make a mess of himself as you used him up. until finally his throat and tongue caught up with his senses, working overtime to express, to show. "feels so good—!" a clipped whisper, a click of drool and hunger, but it made you so happy. hips working and working into him, thighs straining with an ache so painful it bordered on agonising bliss.

he smelled so sweet, scent extracting out his glands, the smell almost choked you. ripe plums, brown sugar, and a gentle earthy saccharinity of carrots. your body moves for you, burying your face into his neck, the warmth so comforting, his scent glands ooze with your presence, the perfume of him so hypnotising, your tongue lapped like it was elixir, some potion created only for you. so fucking sweet.

your core blossomed with his flavour, pulsing around nothing, aching to be full. the heady mix of your smells permeating the room. potent, bodies on bodies, salty sweat, sex and sugar. his taste seeping into your tongue like an injection, drunk on his aroma.

your hips began to stutter, digging into his own with such strength it started to overstimulate the poor bunny. wet and syrupy strings of prejack glazed the fur lining just below his navel. the muscles in his abdomen tightened, moans and grunted whines clipping with each buck you push into him.

“oh… oh fuck,” poor Bucky was drunk on the feeling, cock teased and humped into the springs below, ass thrusted into so impatiently. “P-Pup, m’fuck—!” the syrupy sweetness of his scent coated your tongue with a gush, almost a mirrored reaction to his poor chub below, painting the white sheets in a sticky mess, drowning his poor skin.

your own climax washed over you in a heated film, panting into his neck in harsh breaths. fucking into his behind, trying to elongate the pleasure as best as possible, rutting your clit against the soaked fabric of your panties, as if you can get any closer to the wrung out bun.

as you slowly came to, the haze of your orgasm easing your desires to a full stop, you slowed your motions as you noticed his nose scrunch up and legs wobble beneath you.

“oh—my god! Bucky, shit, im so sorry!” your voice high with empathy, real apologies on your tongue — the tongue that could still taste the perfume of him like you were still lapping. you quickly move off your roomie, exerting a deep groan from his chest. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

all the bunny could do was smile, tiredly and so amazingly dazed. he hides his face in the crook of his elbow, sweat slicked forehead to his forearm.

you watched his back twitch. laughing.

there was no way he could roll over now and reveal the mess. show you how you weren’t the only desperate one in the pair. no, this was something between him and the mattress. the perverse little rabbit was going to lay in his own cum.

[corruptededen]

How about some jealous brother Bucky? Jealous when another guy shows interest in his sister.

jealous brother bucky you say? i hope you enjoy 💕

brother!bucky x sister!reader

dddne. mdni. warnings: incest. p in v. a touch of dubcon if you squint. aftercare. possessive bucky. pictures do not portray reader, imagine them however you'd like. thank you to @sensitiveswan for proofreading 💋

don't like, don't read. it's fiction.

bucky never meant for it to go this far. how was he supposed to reasonably handle another man flirting with his sister? you were his. and his only.

he wasn’t sure when it started. maybe it was that one time you came home from college wearing those tank tops that stretched over your chest just right. or those shorts that showed the curve of your ass. maybe it was the way you started calling him “jamie” just to tease him. he loved every second of it. every second of your undivided attention.

it was wrong. he knew it. nowhere near as wrong as another man believing they could ever love you like he does.

this was the only way.

so, here you were. ropes rubbing your wrists raw, chest pressed to a concrete column. your parents never used the basement anyway. so it was the perfect place to hide you from the world.

it was the only way. at least, that’s what he reminded himself with every thrust, every slam of his hips to yours, balls slapping your reddened ass. his hand came down with another harsh slap. your whimpers muffled by the glove shoved into your mouth, saliva coating the flaking leather.

“i just love you so much, baby,” he mumbled through a grunt, palms burning against your waist, fingers digging into your skin. not to hurt. to ground himself. to remind himself you were real.

tears streaked your cheeks, puddling on the gritty floor.

it was wrong. you knew it was. but every time he muttered, “mine. all mine, baby. please be mine” in your ear, heat coiled in your belly. your back arching. hips meeting his every thrust, begging for more.

maybe you had done it on purpose. entertaining another man’s attention because you knew it would set bucky off.

pleasure skittered across your spine. you shattered with a muffled sob, face tight, brows knit as you coated his throbbing cock. squeezing him so tight he whined, spilling into you a moment later, rocking his hips slowly, coaxing you through the aftershocks.

panting unevenly, brow beaded with sweat, you both groaned as he slowly pulled out. your combined releases sliding down your thighs.

lost in the haze, you barely registered his whispered words of praise.

you did so good, baby.

love you so much.

your wrists were unbound, the glove pulled from your mouth. your legs trembled, knees giving way. he was there to catch you. gathering you into his arms and carrying you to the cot in the back corner. the frame creaked as he carefully laid you both down, tucking you under his chin.

“i’m so sorry.” his voice broke, tears stinging his eyes. “did i hurt you? please tell me i didn’t hurt you.”

curled against his chest, his heart thrumming in your ear, you hummed contentedly. “you never hurt me, jamie.”

a breath of relief left his chest, his large hand spanning your back, the other carding your hair as he pressed gentle kisses to your temple, the red marks on your wrists, feeling your pulse flutter against his lips. “i don’t know what comes over me. i just can’t…i can’t imagine you being with someone else.”

you tilted your head back on the pillow, eyes meeting his, thumb tracing his stubbled jaw. “i’m yours forever, jamie.”

he nudged your nose with his. “i’m yours forever too, babydoll.”

[corruptededen]

brother!bucky x sister!reader. wc. 1.5k

dddne. mdni. warnings: incest. cunnilingus. p in v. pictures do not accurately portray reader, imagine whoever you'd like.

don't like, don't read. it's fiction.

the house was quiet, settling. everyone sleeping soundly. it was the perfect time for bucky to slip out from his room and pad down the hallway, the cold seeping through his socks.

he knew it was wrong. to feel this way. to yearn for you. after all, you were his sister.

it wasn’t his fault that you blossomed into a woman that called to him like a siren. you didn’t even try. just walked around in tight tank tops, sleep shorts that showed the squeezable curve of your ass. those plush lips always smiling so innocently.

there was nothing innocent about his feelings toward you. not when heat flourished in his core, his cock already throbbing painfully, pressing against his boxers. begging to be enveloped by your velvet warmth.

but it was too soon for that. he’d go slow. show you how much he could love you, in ways he knew no other man could.

the thought of another man touching you, holding you—it made him sick.

as if sneaking into his sister’s room night after night to jerk off to your peaceful face, your chest rising and falling, your sheets tangled around your luscious legs, wasn’t sick.

every night, bucky would sit in the corner of your room, boxers pulled down, stretched around his thighs, his fist closed around his cock.

your room was a cathedral of innocence. butterfly artwork. snow globes. plushies that he always teased you about, saying an adult woman still cuddling teddy bears was silly.

guilt sank into his chest with every slow, deliberate drag of his hand, veins pulsing in time with his heart, his lip caught between his teeth, barely muffling the whimpers that clawed at his throat.

maybe he wanted you to hear him. to open those pretty eyes, rimmed with thick lashes, all wide and doe-like, to tell him that what he felt was welcome.

or perhaps what he really wanted, was for you to also be plagued by this lust that wove through his veins like liquid fire.

precum gathered on his fingers, coating his shaft, the sounds of slick covered skin were like music to his ears. if only he could hear those sounds from burying his cock deep inside your velvet heat.

he wasn’t sure how long he could simply sit on the side in your fluffy pink chair, surrounded by plushies, unable to fully experience his desires.

his muscles were drawn taut, teeth pressing into his lip hard enough to taste iron, a sheen of sweat on his brow.

but it wasn’t enough. it was no longer enough to be at a distance.

the temptation was too strong to resist.

hand still covered in precum, chest expanding with shallow breaths, he released himself from the chains of restraint and crawled onto your bed.

the mattress dipped as he slowly moved closer, terrified to wake you.

when he drew back your crumpled floral sheets, a helpless sound caught in his throat. you weren’t wearing your typical sleep shorts. no. just a pair of pretty pink panties with a little satin bows. a sinful sight that made his cock twitch. your ribbed tank top was stretched across your chest, bunched up just enough to see your abdomen. he swore he was looking at an angel.

he couldn’t help himself, running the pad of his thumb over the cotton panties. his tongue flicked out to wet his lips. anticipation like a thread pulled taut.

palms pressed to your inner thighs, he carefully nudged them apart, granting him access to a sight he had only ever dreamed of seeing, your cloth covered cunt already drenched.

was it him that already had you wet? god he hoped so.

as he settled between your legs, a sleepy moan fell from your parted lips. it was such a heavenly sound, his eyes practically rolled back into his skull.

the scent of your arousal drew him in like a magnet, his nose brushing the wet fabric, inhaling deeply.

his cock twitched painfully, throbbing against his abdomen, beads of precum dripping to your sheets. but he didn’t care. he had to have a taste of you.

the first drag of his tongue over your clothed slit nearly undid him. a groan rumbled in his chest, knuckles blanching as he fisted the sheets, desperately trying to hold himself together.

even with this delicate barrier, you tasted delectable.

the second time, tastebuds catching on cotton fibers, you moaned again. subconsciously arching into him, begging for more.

bucky could never let his sister want like this. even through the fabric, he could see her pulsing, pleading with him to pleasure her.

he slowly pulled aside the damp cotton, revealing your folds coated in dew, like delicate petals.

his heart pounded against his ribs as he dragged the flat of his tongue from entrance to clit, unable to withhold the moan that followed. a gravelly, needy sound that made you stir and whimper softly.

he froze as your legs shifted.

when your lashes fluttered open, he held his breath.

your gaze met his. but you didn’t pull away, or scream. in fact, you looked relieved to see him, your brother, between your legs, like a starving man at a feast silently begging to indulge.

but it was him that felt true relief when you nodded, granting him the permission he craved.

at your altar, he worshiped you with every drag and flick of his tongue, with every time he circled your clit, hot breath fanning your skin.

your sounds of pleasure were the sweetest melody. a moan when he sucked your aching bud, a muffled whimper when he ran the tip of his tongue over every dip and ridge, his name falling from your lips as he circled and punctured your entrance.

“bucky,” you choked out on a fractured breath. “please, let me feel you.”

heat skittered across his spine, but he wasted no time crawling up, crashing his lips to yours, pushing his tongue into your mouth, allowing you to taste your sweet nectar.

when he pulled back, forehead pressed to yours, he murmured against your kiss-swollen lips. “i’ve wanted this for so long.”

your fingers threaded through his hair, slivers of moonlight making your eyes shine like beautiful gems. “me too,” you whispered, nudging his nose with yours.

bucky huffed a soft chuckle, pressing a kiss to your cheeks, forehead, then your nose. “i’m going to make you feel so good, angel.”

his calloused thumbs caressed your jaw, your lower lip. a lazy roll of his hips dragging his thick cock through your slick heat, drawing a groan from you both.

his swollen tip popped past your entrance, a shaky gasp catching in your throat. “bucky…” you keened, clutching his biceps like an anchor. “you’re so big.”

“i’ve got you, baby.” he kissed the tears that slipped from your eyes, murmuring into your ear, “let me make love to you.”

goosebumps dotted your skin, heat flourishing in your core, your walls fluttering as he pressed in deeper, until he was, at last, buried to the hilt.

your muscles trembled. the stretch almost unbearable. and yet, pleas for him to move tumbled from your chest.

his hips rolled in a slow, deliberate rhythm, feeling every inch of your velvety channel molding to him, drawing him deeper. fingers pressing into your thigh, he coaxed your leg to wrap around his waist, the angle allowing his tip to collide with your cervix, drawing out delicious moans with every thrust.

the room was filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, punctuated by high-pitched whimpers, guttural groans, and whispers of each others names.

tingles crept along your spine, the pressure building, heat crackling between your joined bodies.

“come for me, baby,” he exhaled against your neck, biting the delicate skin and soothing the marks with his tongue. “be a good girl for me.”

his lips hit yours once more, muffling your fractured sob as pleasure crashed over you. fireworks exploded behind your eyes. a wave of white-hot liquid fire flooded your veins, your body trembling, walls seizing around his cock as he coaxed you through every shudder.

he knew he was close. his voice cracking as he choked out his words. “where do you want me to come, angel?”

fucked out, eyes glazed over, tongue thick and sticking to your mouth, you whimpered, “inside me, bucky. please.”

his restraint snapped, his thrusts turning erratic, punching the air from your chest, dragging along your gummy, sensitive walls. spurts of cum spilled forth, filling you to the brim, your releases coating his balls.

“fuck,” he grunted, his hips stuttering, muscles twitching as he collapsed onto you, panting unevenly.

dewey with sweat, chests heaving, and bodies tangled with each other, you both melted into the embrace.

“stay inside me, please,” you whispered shakily.

he kissed you slowly, pouring every ounce of devotion into the slant of his lips and slide of his tongue. pulling back, he turned you both to your sides, drawing you close, his softening cock still nestled in your warmth. “i will,” he promised, tucking you under his chin, and holding you like the most precious thing on earth.

“i love you,” he murmured.

you hummed softly against his neck. “i love you too.”

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[corruptededen]

dad!bucky x daughter!reader.

ddne. mdni. warnings: incest. breeding kink. p in v.

don’t like, don’t read. it’s fiction.

a sharp slap filled the room. purple and pink flushed your plump ass cheek, a hand print embedded in your skin. this was exactly where you wanted to be. drool trailing from your parted lips, eyes rolled back into your pretty, thoughtless head.

every thrust dragged a little whimper from your throat. a raw, delicious sound to his ears.

“you feel so good, angel,” Bucky rasped into your ear, his thumb tracing under your chin, tipping your head back into his shoulder. Hot breath fanned your skin, teeth scraping the delicate curve of your neck.

his other hand snaked around, palming your breast, twisting and tugging the nipple. he grinned against your skin at the heavenly sound of your high-pitched whine, your silken walls fluttering around his throbbing cock.

there was nothing heavenly about Bucky fucking his daughter. what was a man supposed to do when she blossomed into such a beautiful flower begging to be desecrated. her hallowed walls begging to be corrupted.

“you want daddy to come inside you?” he grunted into your ear, circling your clit in time with his deep, deliberate thrusts.

you nodded frantically, all thoughts out of reach. replaced by the overwhelming pleasure ecstasy pulsing through your veins like liquid metal. your hands grasped his forearm like a lifeline keeping you from drowning in ecstasy.

on a ragged sob, tear-filled eyes squeezed shut, your orgasm struck like a bolt of lightning. you spilled forth over his cock, between your legs, and onto the sheet.

he followed a moment later, hips stuttering, breaths uneven as he poured into you, rope after rope of his seed painting your pulsing walls.

he collapsed onto you, chest pressed to your back, holding you tight, rolling his hips lazily, pushing his release deeper into your tight channel.

he pressed a soft kiss to your temple, a low hum rumbling in his chest. “get some rest, angel. because i plan on fucking you again until this pretty little body is bred.”