I recently saw this one post saying something about how Bucky would slot his dog tags between his teeth during sex to keep them from clanking or bothering during the moment y’know and I immediately thought of you. 😌
Would you mind writing something soul crushingly horny based on this?-
Much love. Mwah ❤️
. ୨୧ ݁ ꒰ 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍, 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐑 ⊹ . bucky x fem!reader. minors are prohibited from interacting.
𝔀arnings 18+ : explicit sexual content, no use of y/n, rough sex, unprotected sex, dog tag kink, biting, metal arm kink, possessiveness, dirty talk and general filth
𝓪uthor’s 𝓷ote : ughhhhh this was so yummy!!!! love me some dog tags on buckyyy
Bucky’s on top of you, all heat and coiled power, his broad frame pinning you down as he drives into you with deep, relentless thrusts. His dog tags dangle between his bare chest and yours, cool metal kissing your flushed skin with every roll of his hips, like a silent vow, a reminder of the soldier who’s finally letting himself take what he wants. They’ve been brushing against you the whole time but now they’re clinking softly, rhythmically, against the smooth vibranium of his left arm, the sound mixing with your shared breaths and the wet slap of skin on skin.
He growls low in his throat, a sound that vibrates through you.
“Fuckin’ tags,” he mutters, voice rough like gravel and smoke. His hips don’t stop though, deep deliberate rolls that drag his cock along every sensitive inch inside you, stretching you open so perfectly it makes your toes curl. You’re soaked, thighs slick with it, trembling around his waist as he pins you down with that effortless super-soldier strength.
You reach up, fingers brushing the chain at his neck. “Leave them,” you breathe, because the sound is filthy in its own way, the soft metallic music of him claiming you.
But Bucky’s eyes, stormy blue, pupils blown wide with lust darken further. He leans down, mouth brushing your ear, breath hot. “They’re distracting you from what I want you feeling.”
In one smooth motion, he catches the tags between his teeth. The chain pulls taut against the back of his neck, the metal plates disappearing into his mouth. His jaw flexes, lips parting just enough for you to see the silver edge glinting against his tongue. The sight alone rips a fresh wave of heat through you, Bucky, the Winter Soldier, reduced to biting down on his own history just so he can fuck you without anything getting in the way.
He groans around the tags, the sound muffled and raw. Then he drives into you harder.
No more clinking. Just the wet slap of skin on skin, the creak of the bedframe, and the obscene sounds of your body taking him. His metal fingers dig into your hip, cool and unyielding, while his flesh hand slides up to cup your jaw, thumb pressing at the corner of your mouth like he wants to feel how wrecked you are.
“Look at me,” he demands around the metal. His voice is distorted, rougher, sex-drenched. Sweat beads at his temple, dark hair falling into his eyes as he fucks you with punishing precision, long strokes that bottom out and grind against that spot that makes stars burst behind your eyelids. Every time he bottoms out, his abs flex against your clit, and the tags shift between his teeth with the motion, a constant, visible reminder of how much control he’s exerting just for you.
You moan his name and he bites down harder, jaw tight, eyes locked on yours like he’s memorizing every gasp, every flutter of your cunt around his cock. The chain trembles against his throat with each thrust. You can see the way his tongue moves against the tags inside his mouth, the way his lips are shiny with spit, and it’s so fucking filthy you clench around him involuntarily.
“That’s it,” he growls through clenched teeth, the words barely intelligible but vibrating straight down to your core. “Milk me, doll. Let me feel how much you love this.”
Your hands scramble up his back, nails digging into scarred skin and metal plating alike. He’s relentless, hips snapping faster now, the wet sounds louder, your slick coating his balls as they slap against you. The dog tags stay right where he put them, trapped between those perfect teeth, catching the light every time he pulls back to look at where you’re stretched around him.
You’re close. So fucking close. And Bucky knows it, he always does. He drops his forehead to yours, tags still clenched tight, breath coming in hot pants around the metal. His voice is a broken rasp:
“Come on my cock while I’ve got these between my teeth, baby. Want to feel you fall apart knowing I’d do anything- anything- to keep fucking you right.”
The orgasm slams into you like lightning under your skin, sudden, devastating, unstoppable. Your back arches sharply off the mattress, a broken cry tearing from your throat as your pussy clamps down hard around his thick cock, fluttering and pulsing in relentless waves. Pleasure rips through every nerve ending, white-hot and overwhelming, leaving you shaking uncontrollably beneath him.
Bucky doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even falter. He keeps fucking you through it with those deep, grinding thrusts, hips rolling relentlessly as he chases his own release, dragging out your climax until you’re a whimpering, sobbing mess beneath him.
Only then does he let the tags fall from his mouth, spit-slick and gleaming, dropping heavy and cool against your heaving chest. He buries his face in your neck, groaning your name like a prayer as he spills deep inside you, hips stuttering, metal arm braced beside your head so he doesn’t crush you.
For a long moment, there’s just the sound of your ragged breathing and the faint, final clink of the dog tags settling between your sweat-slick bodies.
Bucky kisses the side of your throat, soft and reverent now, his lips brushing tenderly over the spot where his teeth had been clenched moments before.
“Next time,” he murmurs, voice hoarse, “I’m putting them between your teeth. See how quiet you can stay while I ruin you.”
pairing: dom!new avenger!bucky barnes x fem!reader
warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors dni, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, fingering, orgasm denial, publi(ish) teasing, dirty talk do not operate heavy machinery after reading
summary: you told bucky it was your ovulation week and he took that as a challenge. you really, really, should’ve kept your mouth shut.
based on this request | requests are open!
word count: 3k
author's note: hi my loves! i had too much fun writing this and i love it so much! i'm so excited to start working on the other requests that i have received 💓. have a great time reading, love ya and stay safe out there!
You should’ve kept your damn mouth shut.
It was just a whisper, a breathy, heat-laced confession, murmured with your face buried against Bucky’s throat last night while straddling his lap.
The compound was quiet, the television playing some netflix movie neither of you were watching. His hand had been sliding slow, comforting circles across your lower back, and your thighs were clenched tight around his hips, slick with want.
You hadn’t meant to say it, but your hormones clearly had other plans.
“It’s my ovulation week,” you breathed, nuzzling against his stubble. Your voice trembled with need, barely a sound. “Everything… feels extra.”
His hand had stopped, just for a second.
Then, danger. Pure danger. The way his fingers tightened possessively at your waist, the low hum he gave in response, and that glint in his eyes, it was not just mischief, his gaze was hungry almost as if he couldn’t wait to claim you.
That’s when you knew you were in trouble.
Now, the next morning, you’re standing in the mirrored gym on trembling legs with a kettlebell in your hand, sweat sliding down your spine, and your boyfriend is watching you like he’s about to drag you into the nearest closet and fuck you into the drywall. Not that you minded though.
He’s leaning against the wall across the mat. Casual on the surface. But the tension in his jaw and the weight in his stare?
It was anything but casual.
His sweatpants hang low on his hips, framing the sharp cut of his v-line and doing absolutely nothing to hide the thick, heavy outline of his cock beneath the cotton. His black tank is soaked through from sparring, clinging to the hard planes of his chest and abs like a second skin.
Bucky's got that calculated look in his eye almost like he’s pretending to assess your form, but really, he’s picturing bending you over the nearest bench and wrecking you six ways from Sunday.
You shift on your feet, stretch your arms overhead, arch just enough to let your back curve and your chest push forward.
If he’s going to tease you, you’ll tease back.
That’s your first mistake.
The second is letting out a moan, quiet, soft, instinctual as you bend down to touch your toes. It was barely audible, but he hears it.
The moment it escapes your lips, his eyes flash. And then, he moves.
Not a walk. A stalk.
He pushes off the wall and prowls toward you across the mat, slow and deliberate, like a wolf scenting its prey.
You straighten up too quickly, nearly dropping the kettlebell.
“Need a spotter?” he drawls, his voice pitched low and lazy, but his eyes rake over you like he’s already got you on your knees. “Or are you just making those noises for fun?”
You swallow, trying to look as unimpressed as possible. “Just warming up.”
He hums, circling behind you.
You feel the heat of him before he touches you, his presence like the sun, warm and overwhelming. You can smell him, too, sweat and cedar and something feral. And then, he kneels behind you, dragging his palms slowly up the backs of your thighs like he’s not in the compound's gym right now.
“Mm,” he murmurs. “We should stretch you out more.”
Your breath catches.
He parts your legs wider, his metal hand sliding between your inner thighs to nudge them open. You gasp as the fabric of your shorts pulls taut across your aching core, the pressure sweet and cruel.
“Bucky—” you whisper, heart racing.
“Shhh.” His breath ghosts over the curve of your ass. “You’re being so good. Standing still like this. Letting me see just how fuckin’ desperate you are.”
His fingers dance under the hem of your shorts, barely grazing your skin. Teasing your soaked, sensitive flesh without mercy, but he doesn’t touch you where you need though. Just close enough to ruin you.
“You’ve been wet since last night, haven’t you?” he murmurs. “Could feel you clenching around nothing when you were grinding on my lap. Bet you soaked through your panties when you slept.”
You tremble, the heat between your legs now unbearable. You want to scream, maybe even cry, perhaps drag him into the supply closet and beg him to fuck you until you can’t walk.
And he knows it.
“You told me it’s your ovulation week dollface” he whispers, voice dark and sinful. “That means this little pussy’s hungry, huh? Just aching to get filled.”
“God, you’re evil,” you whisper through your teeth, trying not to fall apart in front of the squat rack.
He chuckles. Presses a kiss to the side of your thigh. And then—he stands. Just like that.
Leaves you there, shaking, soaked and empty.
You spin around, panting, barely restraining the urge to launch your kettlebell at his head.
Bucky smirks, that infuriating, self-satisfied look that says he’s enjoying your torment a little too much.
“I think Yelena’s done with the sparring mat,” he says, voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “Why don’t you grab it, sweetheart?”
Your face burns and your clit throbs. And Bucky walks off like he didn’t just edge you in the damn compound gym.
You turn and meet Yelena’s smug grin.
She’s still jogging on the treadmill but slows to a bounce-walk as she tosses you a towel. “You look like you need a different kind of workout, sweetheart.”
“Don't.”
Yelena leans on the handrails. “No, no, I’m just saying—” she lifts an eyebrow— “the mat isn’t the only thing that’s going to get stretched out today.”
You throw the towel at her face.
She catches it mid-air, laughing.
“Tell Bucky to let you finish next time,” she calls as you storm off to the locker room, “Or at least let us know so we can film it!”
Somewhere near the dumbbells, Bob chokes on his protein shake.
You don’t even know what this briefing is about.
There’s a map stretched across the table, John is mid-rant about “optimal insertion points,” Alexei’s chewing sunflower seeds with the enthusiasm of a man watching spring training, Ava is checking her knives for the third time, Yelena’s leaned back in her chair, scrolling through her phone, occasionally snorting at whatever she’s watching.
And Bob, well Bob is asleep.
But none of it matters.
Because Bucky is sitting next to you. And his fingers are buried between your thighs.
From the outside, everything looks innocent. His flesh hand rests gently in your lap, your own placed demurely over his like the two of you are just quietly close, sweet, even.
But beneath the table, where no one can see, his metal hand is sliding past the waistband of your shorts with deliberate, devastating precision.
He doesn’t even pretend to rush. Two thick fingers move in slow, torturous circles over your clit, skimming with maddening pressure, barely enough to satisfy, but just enough to make your legs tremble.
Your breath catches, body frozen in place, every muscle tight with restraint. He knows exactly what he’s doing, how to touch you just right, how to coax those tiny, helpless reactions from you while you try to sit still and pretend you’re paying attention to a goddamn map.
His fingers stroke like he has all the time in the world, like there isn't a room full of operatives around you and a mission briefing happening overhead. A soft whimper curls in your throat and dies behind your teeth.
You squeeze your thighs together, trying to catch more friction, but that only makes him chuckle under his breath, barely audible and smug as sin.
And still, he doesn’t go deeper. Doesn't give you what you're aching for. Just keeps circling, teasing, controlling. Like this is a game, and you’re already losing, pathetically.
You sit stiffly, back ramrod straight, every muscle locked as you try not to make a sound. Your tablet is open in front of you, gripped so tight your knuckles ache and it's the only thing grounding you in this room while your body burns.
He leans in, voice low, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “You’re fuckin’ soaked,” he murmurs, and you can hear the smirk in it. “You really gonna cum in front of the team, princess?”
Your breath hitches. “Bucky,” you whisper, voice sharp like a warning, like a prayer.
He doesn’t stop. If anything, his touch gets lazier. Crueler. His cold vibranium fingers part your folds like he owns every inch of you, and he dips just barely inside, only to pull away, dragging the wetness back up to swirl gently over your clit again.
“You said you needed me,” he continues, brushing his nose against your temple. “Said your body’s beggin’ for it. I’m just helping”
“Are you two doing this again?” Yelena asks flatly, without even looking up. Her tone is dry as dust. “She’s vibrating like she’s possessed, someone get her a snack before she faints.”
You glare daggers at her, but it’s weak, your body is already betraying you.
Alexei squints at you across the table. “I thought she had blood sugar issue”
“She’s ovulating,” Bucky announces casually, not even bothering to lower his voice.
Ava groans. “Jesus, Barnes, you can’t just say that.”
“She told me,” he shrugs, like he’s reading weather reports. “I’m being supportive.”
You make a choked sound as he presses down harder in tight, purposeful circles now, inescapable. Your hips twitch without your permission, Bucky's not even fucking you yet, but you can already feel the orgasm winding tight in your belly like a wire stretched too thin.
“I hate you,” you grind out under your breath, nails digging crescents into your palm.
He turns just enough to meet your eyes, that wicked glint in his blue gaze that makes your lungs seize. “Say that again when you’re cumming on my fingers, pretty girl.”
But he doesn’t let you get there.
Each time your body trembles on the cusp, he pulls back, slows, teasing you with strokes so feather-light they feel like punishment.
You’re soaked, shaking, every inch of your skin flushed with heat. He’s wrecking you in silence, in full view of your teammates, and no one’s the wiser, save for the few who clearly suspect exactly what’s happening under the table.
“Bucky,” you beg, barely audible, lips barely moving. “Please.”
He tilts his head, brushing his mouth over the corner of yours. “Not here, sweetheart.” His voice is velvet, low and dark and dripping with promise. “You wanna be bred, honey? Stuffed full like you’re meant to be?” You whimper, and he smirks. “Then you’ll wait.”
“Okay,” Walker claps his hands like a kindergarten teacher trying to salvage control, clearly frustrated. “Unless Bucky would like to finish fucking his girlfriend under the table, can we maybe circle back to the infiltration routes?”
“Bold of you to assume he hasn’t started,” Yelena mutters, not even glancing up from her screen.
You want the ground to swallow you whole. Or set the whole damn briefing room on fire. Maybe both.
Bucky withdraws his hand with excruciating slowness, fingers slick with your arousal. He doesn’t bother hiding it. Instead, he drags them along the inside of your thigh, leaving a glistening trail before wiping them off on your skin like he’s branding you. A silent, possessive mark that has your breath catching in your throat.
He leans back in his chair like nothing happened, legs spread in that display of dominance, expression unreadable but infuriatingly smug.
Completely relaxed. Completely in control.
And you? You’re ruined. Wrung out and twitching. Every nerve ending crackling with frustration, your body screaming for the release he just denied you.
Then he turns again, tilting his head so his lips hover at the shell of your ear, voice so low it shivers through your bones.
“Kitchen. Twenty minutes. Don’t wear panties.”
You almost beat him there.
Almost.
You're already perched on the edge of the kitchen island, legs swinging slightly, thighs pressed tight together in a poor attempt to dull the ache pulsing through your core. Your shorts are somewhere back in your room, discarded in your frenzy to get here fast enough, and you’re bare underneath his black t-shirt, no panties, no shame.
Just soaked thighs and need.
The cotton of his tee clings to your skin, damp with sweat and arousal. Your nipples are pebbled against the fabric, the cool air in the kitchen brushing over them each time you shift. You’re a mess of frustration and anticipation—hot, dripping, ruined—and all because he didn’t let you finish at that stupid meeting.
Then the sound of footsteps.
He strides in like he owns the whole fucking building—sweatpants hanging low on his hips, dark tank sticking to his chest, muscles flexed, jaw tight. But it’s his eyes that stop your breath. Cerulean blue, blazing and feral.
He takes one look at you—legs spread, thighs gleaming, lips parted in silent plea and something in him snaps.
He crosses the space in two steps and his hands are already on you.
“You waited like a good girl, huh?” he rasps, voice wrecked and raw, lifting the shirt up and over your chest. “Sittin’ here all wet and desperate, no fuckin’ panties like I told you. Fuck.”
You don’t get the chance to answer—he’s already kissing you. Hard and possessive. Open-mouthed and filthy, all tongue and teeth and the sharp edge of punishment. You moan against his mouth, clawing at his waistband, nails scraping the hard lines of his hips.
His vibranium hand slides between your legs and you nearly sob. He groans into your mouth as he feels how wet you are, how ready.
“Been leaking for me all fuckin’ day,” he growls, dragging slick fingers through your folds. “You know what I want, don’t you, baby? Want that sweet little cunt full. Stuffed so deep you feel me for days.”
“Please,” you pant, grinding shamelessly against his hand, desperate. “Need it—need you to fill me up, Bucky, please—”
That’s all he needs.
He spins you around and bends you over the island, chest pressed to cool marble, ass bared and ready. There’s no teasing this time. No patience. You feel the thick, blunt heat of him at your entrance and brace yourself—
Then he slams into you with a brutal thrust.
You cry out, loud and unrestrained, one hand slapping the counter, the other gripping the edge like a lifeline. Bucky bottoms out instantly, stretching you open, splitting you around the thick length of him.
“Fuck,” he groans, snapping his hips. “Tight fuckin’ pussy. You were made to be filled by me.”
He sets a relentless pace, hips slamming into your ass, the sound obscene and echoing off the tiled walls. Each thrust drives your body forward, forces breath from your lungs, drags you closer to the edge with reckless, punishing efficiency.
“You want it in you, huh?” he pants, gripping your hips like he’ll never let go. “Gonna fuck you full, baby. Gonna fill that greedy pussy ‘til it’s dripping down your thighs. Want my cum deep, want me to breed this needy little cunt?”
“Yes!” you scream. “Fuck, yes, yes, please, Bucky, fill me,"
He snarls, pace turning savage. “Gonna take it. Gonna fuck a baby into you right here on the goddamn counter. My needy little slut, my good girl.”
You unravel, shaking, twitching, walls spasming around him as your orgasm hits you hard, pleasure burning through your bloodstream, exploding behind your eyes. You sob his name, voice wrecked.
Bucky’s right behind you.
He grits out a curse and drives in deep, cock twitching as he spills inside you, hot, thick and endless. He keeps grinding forward as if he could somehow fuck his cum deeper, claim every inch of you from the inside out.
And then you heard voices and footsteps from the hall.
Yelena’s voice rang out, “You know we eat food on that counter, right? Like with our mouths?
Alexei exclaims, “Walker owe me twenty bucks!”
John retorts, dry as ever “at least she's not complaining now.” Ava laughed, “Told you they wouldn’t make it to sunset”
And you could vaguely hear Bob asking if they were supposed to see this.
You bury your face in your arms, groaning. “Kill me. Kill me now.”
Bucky chuckles, actual laughter, low and warm, chest shaking against your back, he presses a kiss to the base of your neck, then another to your spine. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmurs.
He pulls out slowly, a filthy squelch of sound following, then hums when your thighs glisten with his release. “Look at that,” he says softly. “Already leaking. Just how I like it.”
You melt when he wraps his arms around you from behind, chest to your back, still warm and panting.
“You did so good for me,” he whispers, brushing your hair off your cheek. “So perfect. Gonna clean you up, put you in bed, and hold you all night. You earned it, needy girl.”
You sigh, body boneless.
And when he lifts you off the counter like you weigh nothing, bridal style, you don’t even resist. You just curl into his chest, letting yourself be carried away, dripping and satisfied.
“I love you,” he says softly into your hair as he walks past the rest of the team like you two didn’t just fuck in a common area.
Despite everything, despite the chaos, the teasing, the way he just wrecked you in the kitchen, you smile.
“I love you too.”
Even if you’re banned from the kitchen forever.
a/n: thank you so much for reading my sweethearts! ❤️ please leave a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! it keeps me motivated 🥰
summary: how bucky finally gets you to accept his gifts.
word count: 1.2k
warnings: 18+, references to bucky getting an erection, bucky being a softie, lots of fluff, some minor self-deprecation, nothing else i think??
series masterlist | main masterlist | tip jar | ao3
a/n: this was suggested by @onyx8514 and an anon !!
soft!dom!bucky who knows and loves that you're an independent woman. you're proud of that; it was your determination that allowed you to save enough money and move states to start a new life. he admires your strong-willed nature, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't have an innate need to provide for you. he wants to take care of you in every sense of the word, but going about that was hard at the start of your relationship. the first time he'd given you a gift - a special edition box set of a book series you'd been dying to read - you didn't react how bucky thought you would. it's not that he expected some grand declaration of happiness or gratitude, but he wasn't prepared for the way your lips twitched as though you were trying not to frown. you'd thanked him, and then asked him why he bought it for you. did you miss an important date? some obscure holiday you hadn't remembered? what did you do to deserve this? bucky assured you that he just wanted to get it for you because he knew you loved the author and wanted to give you things that make you happy. but he stored the image of the conflict on your face as you struggled with accepting the books away for later use.
soft!dom!bucky who figured the next gift he'd give you would be something a little smaller. he doesn't want to overwhelm you, or make you think you're not capable by accepting his help. so, he figured a bouquet (that cost way more than bucky will ever tell you) and takeout from your favorite restaurant would be a good start, dropping them by your apartment after your shift from hell. actually, he thinks it's the bare minimum in a relationship, but he can tell you're not used to receiving things just for the hell of it, and he wants you to get used to it. so. starting small is necessary. you were still a little hesitant to take the flowers, but bucky could see the way your eyes lit up at the beautiful arrangement, the way you stumbled through expressing your gratitude as though you were trying not to show how touched you were at the gesture.
soft!dom!bucky who makes it a point to buy you a new bouquet every sunday. it's always a different arrangement with vibrant colors and calming scents, and always comes with a little note, each one different than the last. to my princess, just for being you, or you deserve things as beautiful as you are, or you've made me the happiest man alive. and all of the notes end with from, your daddy<3. and bucky absolutely preens when he steps into your apartment one day and finds himself in your bedroom, only to see the cork board on one of your walls with all of his notes pinned to it.
soft!dom!bucky who always pays when you go out to eat. and, this is pretty normal with all of the dates you've been on with any of your past partners, but it's the location of the dates that gets you. the restaurants get more and more expensive as time goes on, and you have to fight not to gawk at the prices of the entree's alone. the first time you went to a higher-end restaurant, you started with a single glass of wine and scoured the menu for any dish that cost less than fifty dollars, only to find none. bucky saw your deliberation, and he caught on quickly as to why you seemed stressed, causing him to place down his own menu and reach over the table to grab your hand and tell you to order whatever you want, princess. you like steak, right? let's get that. when you quietly fought him on it (the steak was fucking 65 dollars??), bucky insisted that he doesn't care about the price. he wants to treat his princess to a nice evening and this place has the best food in town.
soft!dom!bucky who refuses to call maintenance or talk to the landlord about any issues his place has. he's pretty handy and can fix most broken things on his own, so he always opts to work on a project himself. this also applies to you. the hinges on your cupboards are loose? baby, why are you calling maintenance when you know I have a toolbox? ac went out again? princess, hang up the phone and show me where it is. the first time he fixed something for you, you offered to pay him for the 'inconvenience', to which bucky looked absolutely offended, claiming that helping you isn't an inconvenience, princess, I'm your boyfriend, of course I'm going to help you.
soft!dom!bucky who always offers to drive you anywhere you need to go. he doesn't trust public transportation and he has a perfectly good vehicle, so why would he let you take the bus? especially since he knows you'll be safe, away from prying eyes and people sitting uncomfortably close to you. you tried offering him gas money a few times, but he always turns it down immediately with princess, it's only a 10 minute drive, I'm not losing that much gas, or driving you places isn't a chore, I just love spending time with you.
soft!dom!bucky who eventually starts ramping up the generosity. as time goes on, you're less hesitant to accept his smaller gifts and gestures, which bucky absolutely loves. it feels like serotonin is being pumped directly into his veins when you stop appearing guilty every time you take his gifts or let him buy your groceries for the week. it also helps that you give him a kiss afterward, a little thank you for treating me even though I don't really believe I deserve it.
soft!dom!bucky who nearly gets an instant erection the first time you ask for something. granted, it's just a blanket from your local farmer's market, but still. you're asking for something! he pauses for just a second too long, relishing in the fact that you're taking that step, but you interpret his silence as rejection, so your smile immediately falls. you start assuring him that it's okay, I'll just buy it! it's fine, I just thought - interrupted by him taking out his wallet and shoving too much money into the stall-owner's hands as he says you absolutely will not be buying it, I've got it. and he has to recite his grandma's old apple pie recipe to will away his hard on any time you look up at him with those doe eyes and timidly ask for the painting hanging in one of the stalls or a new cup of coffee after you've finished the one he bought you when you first arrived. he does, but insists you drink water to offset the jitters he knows you'll get if you don't hydrate.
soft!dom!bucky who swears nothing will ever compare to the feeling he gets when you send him a link to an apparel website with a screenshot of the new blouse you've been eyeing but have been hesitant to purchase because of the price. you offer to pay for shipping, but bucky ignores that text and simply sends you a screenshot of the confirmation email he received and lets you know that it'll be at yours in a few days. he loves that you're coming around to letting him treat you, that you've stopped apologizing for needing or wanting anything from him. he'll spoil you rotten any day of the week, and he's so happy that you're starting to love it too.
Sitting on the couch, you had a glass of wine in hand as you watched TV. You zoned back in as your phone chimed, vibrating on the coffee table. Picking up the device, you saw a text from Bucky.
Bucky: Just got back from a mission with Sam, you home doll?
You smiled, texting back a reply.
You: I'm home, everything okay?
Bucky: Need to get away from the compound, can I come over?
You: of course, doors unlocked
A little while later, you heard the doorknob turn as Bucky walked in, still dressed in his gear from the mission. "Hey Buck," You put down the glass of wine, walking over and pulling one of Bucky's beers from the case he had left at your house.
"Hey, doll, you know I have a key, right? Don't keep your door unlocked just for me." You shrugged, popping the top off of the beer and handing it to him as he toed his boots off.
"I knew you'd be exhausted after this mission, so I left it open for you. Plus you always forget your key." You smiled, padding back over to the couch and grabbing your glass of blueberry wine, wrapping yourself back up in your sweater.
Bucky followed, sitting beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He laid his head back, his beer bottle resting on his thigh. He let out a long breath, leaning over to kiss your forehead and pull you into his side. His metal arm rubbed over the top of yours, squeezing every once in a while.
"How was the mission?" You took another sip of your wine, resting it on Bucky's thigh as you looked up at him.
He shrugged, "It was fine. Sam got a couple stitches when we got back and Nat has a bruised rib, but all I got was a couple scratches."
"A couple scratches to you is never just a scratch, Buck."
Bucky let out a low laugh, turning to look down at you. "How about you make me forget the pain?"
You smiled, sitting down your wine and putting his beer next to yours.
Climbing into his lap, you had your thighs over both sides of his legs, slowly grinding down onto him. "Fuck, doll." Bucky leaned his head back, looking at you before grabbing your throat and pulling you to kiss him.
You felt his mouth move against yours, tongues tangling together as you felt him bite your lip, making you moan.
You moved your hips against him, grinding down as you felt him push his hips into yours.
All of a sudden, Bucky wrapped his metal arm around your waist and flipped him under you. He pushed himself against your core, making your head fall back in pleasure.
Without warning, he attacked your neck with his lips, biting and sucking on your pulse point as his right hand wandered down your body.
Pulling your sweater from your shoulders, his metal arm still around your waist, he reached up and unclasped your bra. Your tits spilled out as he pulled himself from your neck he tugged your bra off with your tank top, baring you entirely to him.
"Tell me want you want, doll. " Bucky whispered in your ear, pulling your right nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. You moaned, nodding yes as you tried to kiss him again until he pulled back, shaking his head. "I need words, honey."
"P-please, Bucky, I want you." You moaned, biting his lip in between your teeth, feeling him play with your nipples, pinching and squeezing them.
"You want me to what, huh?" Bucky teased you, smirking as you whined below him.
"I want you to touch me, please." You begged, making him let out a low laugh, "All you had to do was ask, doll."
Without warning, he gripped your leggings and pulled them down along with your panties. Sinking down onto the ground below you, he pushed your thighs apart, looking up at you with dark eyes.
He teased you, sliding his finger through your slit and up to your clit with feather-soft touches. You squirmed, pushing your hips toward him more. "Bucky, please." You whined.
"You just told me to touch you, doll. You didn't-"
"Oh my god, Bucky just-"
He slammed his face into your pussy, cutting you off and turning your words into moans. He licked up and down before focusing on your clit, slipping his metal finger into your opening before adding a second one. He curled his fingers forward, making your legs shake.
You moaned loudly, your nails digging into your couch as your thighs started to close around his head.
"Uh-uh," Bucky removed his fingers from you making you let out a whimper as he slammed your legs apart. "Keep them open or I stop."
You nodded before seeing him tilt his head at you. "Yes..Sargent."
"Good fucking girl." Bucky dived back in between your legs like a man starved. "Oh, God." He smacked your thigh before slipping his fingers back inside of you. "Oh, Bucky!" You corrected, digging your hands into his hair, pulling him further into you.
Bucky sped up his movements, flicking and sucking at your clit as he started to feel you tighten around his fingers. "That's right, cum for me."
You nodded shakily, feeling your legs spasm as waves of pleasure washed over your body, Bucky making you cum.
Your body sunk back down to the couch. Bucky lifted his head, his chin and lips covered in your cum. "You thought we were done, huh doll?"
"What?" You mumbled before Bucky stood, lifting you and flipping you onto your stomach, your chest resting on the arm of the couch as your back arched. You could hear him unbuckle his belt and pull down his boxers.
"Bucky we don't have a condom." You looked back, watching as he brought his hand down and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. Bending down, Bucky kissed your lips softly, quickly grabbing your hair in a makeshift ponytail and entering you with one thrust.
You cried out in pleasure, feeling his thick cock stretch you out.
"I don't fucking care, doll." Bucky drove in and out of you with each word, bringing his flesh hand down on your ass with a painful spank as his metal hand squeezed your hip. "Fuck, such a good fucking girl."
You nodded, and Bucky pushed a hand down on your back as he brought his metal fingers around to your throat, cutting off your air supply. "You're my good girl, aren't you?"
All you could do was moan, feeling lightheaded as the only sound in the room was Bucky's hips slamming into yours. Your body pummeled forward with every thrust.
"Tell me, tell me how you're my good girl." Bucky bit his lip, watching your body quiver in response. You tried to speak but couldn't, he knew you couldn't but still decided to taunt you.
"The only way I'm gonna let you cum is if you tell me, doll,"
Bucky smirked, pulling your body flush to his as he still continued to fuck you fast and hard.
He reached around your body, his metal fingers rubbing circular motions on your clit. Letting go of his grip a little on your neck, you groaned out, "I'm your good girl, please, Bucky, let me cum."
Bucky let out a low moan in your ear, "Such a good girl, cum for me again." He let you fall back onto the couch, "I'm not far behind you, honey."
With one brutal thrust and a pinch of your clit, you came for the second time. Bucky stilled inside of you, his cum painting your walls as he grunted and fell forward.
You felt your head drop to the arm of the couch as Bucky rubbed a hand up and down your back soothingly. With his right hand, he moved your head to look at you, "You doin' okay, doll?"
Nodding, you flipped on your back, Bucky hovering over you. "I'm okay. You okay, Buck?"
He leaned down, kissing your lips softly as his thumb rubbed over your hip lightly. "Always when I'm with you. I love being friends."
-
masterlist
I'm not the best at writing smut give me some grace, but I had this idea and neeeeded to write it.
tw: CRAZY!bucky, dark!bucky, delusional reader at first, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, dark magic, breaking & entering, obsessive behavior, dom!bucky, sub!black!reader, bucky talks you through it, fingering, PinV, bucky really fucking loves you.
summary: after months of hiding your feelings for bucky, you decided you were going to make a move before you chickened out. you felt bad about yourself unable to confess your feelings to bucky so you treat yourself to a nice day out at a local witchcraft store until your eyes fell upon something called a One Wish Willow. Boy, will that be your greatest purchase regret or.. not?
"i wonder if this’ll really work.." you said as you sat in the drivers seat of your parked car, staring at the white & red triangular shaped box. you turned it around, reading the warnings, "single use only, irreversible.." you mumbled, pausing for a brief moment before you opened the box. "i might as well try it, seems like nothing but a fake toy though," you huffed, "hopefully this was a good $6.99 spent." you said, sitting up straight as you held the willow in your hand. you stared at it for a moment, something inside of you screaming to put it back but you ignored it, gut feelings can’t always be right, right? nonetheless, you closed your eyes & imagined your life with bucky, how peaceful it’ll be with just you two & nobody else. you inhaled sharply, "I wish for Bucky Barnes to be hopelessly devoted to me, nobody else in this world but me." you said, breaking the willow.
you sat silently in your car for a few minutes but still, nothing happened. "ugh, whatever." you groaned in annoyance, thinking that some stupid witchy toy would help you win the love of your life. you started your car started to drive towards your house, but as you came to a red light, you looked out of your window & noticed somebody staring straight at you but only could see their eyes due to the darkness of the night but the streetlight shining down at their eyes. "the fuck?" you questioned but then the light turned green, you quickly got out of there as you were not sticking around to find out who that creep was. you finally made it home, parking your car in front of your house before you got out. you grabbed your belongings before getting out of your car & locking it, walking towards your front door before you heard loud & heavy footsteps speeding up behind you.
you quickly turned, a scream forming in your throat before a hand covered your mouth & another found its way to your waist. your eyes widened in shock as you stared at the man in front of you, "mmbuhcky?" you slurred as his hands muffled your words. he slowly let his hand fall from your mouth but still kept his metal arm wrapped around your waist, staring into your eyes before you cleared your throat & spoke, "uh.. are you.. okay?" you questioned, hinting at the staring & extremely close body contact before he let you go, "yeah, i just wanted to see your pretty face." he spoke, his eyes darting down to your lips as he licked his. he paused before looking up into your eyes again, quickly breaking away from you as he now wore a scowl on his face, "what the fuck?" he questioned, "i- i didn’t mean that.." he said in an almost embarrassed tone.
"uh.. mhm.." you crossed your arms, trying to play it cool but you were head over heels. The bucky barnes, your love, your everything, had his hands wrapped around you & he was staring at you with admiration. you licked your lips & realized they tasted pretty metallic, like blood. "wha.." you mumbled, wiping your hand across your mouth & blood was all over your hand. you stood there frozen in shock as you stared at your bloodied hand before looking back up at bucky, now realizing he was drenched in it. his clothes were practically wet now, bloodied shoe prints stained your concrete walkway as you stared at him in disbelief, "bucky.." you started, backing up in fear but he started to come closer, a shift in his personality again.
"no, babygirl, don’t be scared." he said quickly, walking up to you & grabbing your wrist, "i’d never hurt you." he reassured but you yanked your hand away, now more scared than happy— the man you loved is standing in front of you with somebody’s blood all over him, "bucky, leave." you told him, backing up towards your door, your eyes locked on his muscular, bloodied figure. he stood there, his eyes darkening more as he started to rush towards you before he paused, "what is going on with me?!" he yelled, grabbing his hair as he walked away from you & into the road, pacing around as you quickly took this chance to enter your house & lock your doors. you quickly kicked off your shoes & went to the nearest window to see what he was doing but he was gone.
it was eerily quiet, not even the trees were moving nor was wind blowing, just silence & darkness. "today has been too fucking weird.." you complained as you went towards your bathroom, washing your hands & face to remove the blood from you. you stared at yourself in the mirror as you sighed deeply, "i probably just need a na— CRASH" you jumped. the sound of mirror smashing echoed throughout your house as you rummaged through your bathroom drawers, trying to find the sharpest object you have yet; an eyebrow razor. "this is gonna have to do." you sighed before taking a deep breath & reaching for the doorknob. before you could even touch it, the door flew open & you were quickly disarmed & pushed out of the bathroom onto the floor. "please don’t kill me!!" you screamed, cowering as you crawled away from the unknown attacker before they got on top of you & made you face them.
"bucky, what the fuck are you doing?!??" you screamed at him. squirming underneath him before he held you completely still, immediately over powering you. "look at me, i’m clean now. no need to be scared, dove." he said, staring down at you with love in his eyes before he got up & lifted you up. "i love you." he said with a soft smile, pulling you in by your waist again as he tucked your braids behind your ear. "bucky, what has gotten into you?! you followed me home, bloodied might i add, & now you’ve broken into my house claiming you love me?" you complained— more like trying to process everything. he stared at you, his eyes shining before the light in them died again, "i killed to get to you, i murdered a bunch of my people to come be with you, the love of my life, & this is how you fucking repay me?" he hissed, pushing you against a wall, trapping you between his chest & the wall.
"i love you, what do you not understand?" he asked, punching the wall right next to your head, "ungrateful." he spat. "i went through all that trouble to keep you safe— so I can keep you safe." he growled. you avoided looking at him as you’ve never seen him aggressive, well you have, just not this aggressive. "buck, you’re scaring me— shut up." he cut you off, grabbing you by your shoulder before he started dragging you through your house, locating your bedroom & throwing you on the bed, "do i need to prove how much i love you? do you need to feel how much i love you?" he questioned, the light returning in his eyes as he walked over to you, pulling you towards his pelvis by your ankles as he leaned over you, his bulge rubbing against your clothed goodness.
you couldn’t move, you were frozen in fear but also arousal. "that’s what you need? for you to feel how deep i’m inside of you while i tell you how much i love you?" he asked as he stripped you down slowly, leaning towards your neck & nibbling at it while he continued to grind his clothes cock against your clit. you moaned at the sensation, the feeling of his thick print rubbing against your heat made your mind hazy. "yes, buck, that’s what i want.." you whimpered, wrapping your hands around his neck as his hand slid between your legs, his metallic fingers sliding into your slick pussy with ease. your breath hitched as the cold feeling made you jolt a little bit but was quickly ignored when you felt his fingers starting to curl against the spot that makes you squirm. "right here baby, this’s it?" he taunted as he stared at your face, biting his lip as he continued to play in your pussy.
"yes sir, right there!" you mewled, crying out in pleasure as you grabbed at his shoulder as you tried your very best to compress your noises. "mhmm, look at that pussy suck me in with no problem.." he hummed as he looked down, watching his fingers enter you with no resistance. he looked back up at you, placing a kiss on your collarbone before trailing down to your breast, his tongue swirling against your brown nipples before he sucked on it. he moaned in delight, ignoring the way his cock throbbed & begged to be free as he was focused on you. your mind was blank & filled with nothing but the pleasure you were receiving from one of the best soldiers alive, your pastel pink painted toes curling violently as you felt that familiar knot building up in your stomach. "’m gon cum.." you whimpered, grabbing harder onto his shoulder as your back arched off the bed.
"not yet, mama." he told you, pulling his fingers out of you which made you whine in annoyance. he sucked your juices off his fingers & nearly moaned from how good you tasted. "no more teasing, let me show you how much i love you." he stated, stripping himself from head to toe, his cock leaking as he stared at you exposed & vulnerable for him. he lined up the tip of his cock with your entrance & slid right in, grunting at how tight you are. "fucckk.." he whimpered, using both of his hands to keep your thighs open as he fucked slowly but deeply into you. "this pussy so tight, pretty.." he praised, watching the way your lips engulfed him whole. you were losing your mind, the guy you’ve had a crush on since you started working with him is now opening you up like a book, playing in the place that makes you weak.
"so good ‘fa me." he hummed, tilting his head a little bit as he stared at both of your parts intimately. he sucked on one of his thumbs & placed it on your clit, rubbing in quick, tight circles as he fucked into you. you say up on your elbows as you kept your legs spread for him, keeping eye contact with him as moans flowed smoothly from your mouth. "c’mon baby, talk to me, talk to daddy." he said, leaning forward towards your face as his other hand gently cupped your cheek as he pulled you in for a quick kiss, "it feels so good, daddy.." you whined, leaning your head back as you did. he took this chance to attack it, kissing & sucking all over it; leaving his mark. "you’re mine baby, i own you." he growled, the hand that was rubbing your clit coming up to your neck as he pushed you down on the bed, so now you’re laying flat on your back. "good girl." he purred.
his grip tightened around your neck as he started to ram into your pussy, your hands grabbing at his wrists as he choked you while you babbled mindless nonsense. "ohh yeah, i know baby, i know." he taunted, his hips & yours making a loud clap sound every time your hips connected. "daddy’s so deep, but you can take it, you got it," he encouraged you, watching the way you melt at his words, "you’re a big girl." he stated. your vision blurred as your head spinner, the lack of oxygen making you light headed while the way he fucked into you, it was like he hated you which wasn’t the case at all in this situation. "mmffuck!~" you squealed, your pussy pulsing around him as the same knot from earlier started to form again. "you love me baby?" he asked, thrusting brutally into your pink walls, the tip of his cock’s head kissing your cervix which made you see the gods themselves, "yes, daddy, i love you so much!" you screamed, digging your nails into his back as you wrapped your legs around his waist. "mhm, make daddy stay in this pussy mama, make daddy nut all in it.." he moaned in your ear, sucking on it gently while he continued to deliver inhumane thrusts to you.
he started to grind upwards while thrusting into you, making sure he abused your sensitive spot. your closed your eyes tightly as a tear rolled from the side of it due to the good fucking he was giving you. "baby, daddy loves you, okay?" he told you, grabbing you by your jaw as his cock throbbed violently inside you, "you love when i fuck you like this, hm?” he asked you, staring at your scrunched up face with admiration as he fucked you brutally, “yes daddy, i love when you fuck me like this!” you agreed, your legs wrapping tighter around him as you were so close, “daddy, i need to cum, please can i cum? i wanna cum!” you begged, pleaded to release around his thickness. he bit his lip as he hummed, “mhm,” he said as he leaned up, both his hands now firmly gripping your hips & lifting them off the bed a little as he made sure he got balls deep, "cum for me, baby." he moaned, the same knot in your stomach forming in his as he was cumming right with you.
"oh, shit!!" he hissed, thrusting into you as he pumped his white thick seed into you, the way your walls fluttered around his shaft as you came, creaming all over his length made his knees buckle as you cried out his name. your body was hot, the room was hot— hell, you both were hot. you laid there catching your breath as bucky leaned down towards you, pushing your braids out your face as he looked at you with pure love in his eyes,
"I love you more than anyone in this world, nobody else, but you."
you paused, remembering something that sounded exactly like that; your wish.
another long fic😭. but i had to write bucky with obsession, it just seemed right to with the type of personality he has— like, he’s quiet & doesn’t talk much but he’s strong & protects those that he loves & cares for.. just like nikki😛
„Fuck you’re doing s-so good for me“ He groans as he pushes into you over and over again, at a relentless pace.
His vibranium hand tightly wrapped around your throat, pressing down just so much that little gasps come out of your mouth but not so much that it actually hurts. Just the right amount of pressure.
You already know that your friends are gonna ask what happed to your neck but to be honest your didn’t really care. Your just needed him to fuck your brains out.
Your squirm underneath him as his tip rocks against your cervix over and over again, sending waves of pleasure through your body.
The hand that isn’t wrapped around your throat moves to your clit and while moving his hips in and out of your his draws gentle but fast circles over your clit.
„Fuckkk“ you breath out as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten. He speeds up his pace as he feels your gummy walls getting tighter around his cock. Almost all his weight is on your throat.
He had always treated you with a kind of reverence- gentle hands, soft words, unwavering loyalty. But deep down, you knew that the truest expression of his love wasn’t in the quiet moments or tender gestures.
It was in the way he could steal the air from your lungs with just one look, make your heart race until your legs gave out, and leave you trembling- not out of fear, but because being consumed by him was exactly what you craved. It wasn’t just love, it was surrender, and you wanted nothing more than to be undone by him
Your breath catches, a strangled gasp slipping past your lips as your body arches instinctively beneath him. The tension coils tighter and tighter, until it finally snaps- your orgasm crashes over you in a blinding wave, stealing every thought, every sound, every ounce of control.
You fall apart completely, trembling, clutching at him like he’s the only thing tethering you to the earth. And just seconds later, with a guttural moan and a stuttered thrust, he follows- buried deep, his own release tearing through him as he collapses against you, breathless and shaking. The world goes silent for a moment, the only sound left is the ragged rhythm of your breathing, tangled together in the aftermath.
His breathing is still heavy as he collapses beside you…
A/n: this is shitty and short and I wrote that while on a fuck ass class trip 🙏🏻🩵 But yeah have fun and don’t die ♱
warnings: 18+ mdni, pervy!bucky and slight pervy!reader, reader is implied to be a little older than him, rough and desperate bucky, fingering, choke hold, size kink, pnv unprotected, clothes ripping, implied consent, reader doesn’t talk like at all, he is so obsessed with you, he wants to get you pregnant!!!! job neglect :/
a/n: inspired by music to watch boys to. i love this so much.
The reason you kept showing up was a mystery to him, one that he spends the majority of his 6-hour shifts coming up with possible answers to.
Another thing he couldn’t quite figure out?
Your little staring problem.
Fresh out of his junior year at college, he’s sure he should’ve felt more of a sense of accomplishment.
Instead, Bucky’s downing the last of his energy drink and pulling into the sandy ‘employees only’ parking spot. The cry of gulls above meddled with the sound of rock music in broken speakers.
The view of the beach never got old to him, and when he got asked to come back to his summer job as a lifeguard, he accepted without a second thought.
He’s done it before. Worked right where sand met water, learned about the Ellis method a dozen times, and chatted with the locals. He enjoyed it all.
He didn’t think this summer would be any different, and he had the luxury of believing that for the first few weeks.
Bucky pulls his shirt off and haphazardly throws it into his locker along with his bag, not bothering to lock it up. He mumbles to himself as he goes about his pre-shift routine.
Pull his whistle over his neck, letting it hang in between the sunblock glistened skin of his pecs. Done.
Double-knot the strings of his swim shorts so he doesn’t get in trouble with his boss again. Done.
Check and make sure you weren’t already sitting on the beach in the same spot you always did. You were.
Done.
Bucky was used to regulars, if that was a thing at beaches. He saw the same families come and go every other weekend, staying for a few hours before jumping in their SUV and going home.
It was nothing out of the ordinary to see the same people here and there. He was a firm believer that if you were lucky enough to live by the beach, that should be taken advantage of.
But you, on the other hand, seemed far too content on taking advantage of it.
The first time he saw you had been on a weekend trip with your friends. A chance encounter, sure. But the next few times after that seemed to be coincidental.
Bucky took the weekend shifts when no one else wanted to be stuck working on Fridays and Saturdays.
He saw you every shift.
On Fridays you’d show up at 5:30PM on the dot, clad in a bikini that you seemed intent on covering up with a see-through cardigan. Modest.
Saturdays were different, you’d show up around noon and stay rooted in your spot until the sun dipped below the horizon and the air grew cold. You always left right before his shift ended.
You learned his routine, and he learned yours.
You didn’t work on weekends, but he did. This was just a part time job for him while he was stuck at home over the summer. You seemed to have a job, a real one at that.
So maybe he was overthinking it, and maybe he was flattering himself a little, but who else with a working class job would choose to spend every weekend out in the blistering sun?
Surely you didn’t enjoy the feeling of sand beneath your feet and the screeching of seagulls that much, right?
It had to be him.
It wasn’t like you ever swam, either. Never touched the water, never gave him the opportunity to even entertain the idea of ‘saving you’.
You sat in the same thickly-woven beachchair, made of sturdy metal and pastel colored fabric. A 42-ounce drink sat in the cupholder. You always bought the boardwalk’s ridiculously overpriced lemonade, wrapping your lips around the striped straw like it was a delicacy.
And you always brought that stupid, heavy stereo.
The kind that only took CDs, the kind that took pressing about ten different buttons before any music actually started playing.
It was clunky, obnoxious, and nostalgia-including in a way that made any man or woman in their fifties chuckle when they saw it.
Today you were playing some soft rock music with a jumpy bassline. He liked it.
Bucky didn’t take you for the kind of girl to like that kind of music, but then again, he didn’t know much about you at all.
Except for the fact that you had a taste for too-expensive, barely-there bikinis. Ones that you never had to fix or adjust, ones that seemed to be fitted to your exact measurements. He’s sure if he looked long enough, he’d be able to guess them.
Or how you always brought a new hardcover book to read and finish every time you came. Never paperback, he knew.
And how despite the fact that he knew you could afford a more modern, up to date speaker, you still chose to lug around that big piece of metal junk.
So maybe he knew a bit more about you than any of the hundred other people who came to the beach every weekend, but in all fairness, he couldn’t help it.
There was something so fascinating about you in a strange, unremarkable way.
You were beautiful, it was the first thing anyone ever noticed about you. But in a crowd like this, on a busy Saturday afternoon, you blended in.
So why did he notice everything about you?
His sunglasses had been free, given out at one of the employee training courses along with those tie-dye colored rubber bracelets no one ever wore. The dark plastic was thin and cheap, but it got the job done, and that was enough for him.
But you? Not a chance.
Your tortoise shell sunglasses gleamed in the sun, the silver logo catching the light with every calculated turn of your head. They looked expensive, and so did you.
The difference in your eyewear was mundane, nothing out of the ordinary or worth mentioning to anyone that cared to listen. But Bucky noticed it, just like he noticed everything about you.
Like how you were always there when he was, how you always picked a spot just a few feet away from him. And of course he noticed how you always stayed right there.
The reason you kept showing up was a mystery to him, one that he spends the majority of his 6-hour shifts coming up with possible answers to.
Another thing he couldn’t quite figure out?
Your little staring problem.
Through fluttering lashes and low perched sunglasses, your eyes never left the sun-kissed skin of his back.
Or the damp curls of brown hair where his head and neck met, or the mouthed words that silently slipped from those soft lips of his.
You saw it all, watched like you couldn’t miss it for the world.
Bucky was used to the ogling looks from married women in their forties, the lingering stares from judgemental pre-teens, the threatening looks from guys with their girlfriends, all of it. So he should’ve been used to the way you always watched him.
But he wasn’t.
Every time he’d finish his scan across the sparkling blue waters, his head would bow in a nod and his sunglasses would slip down the arch of his nose.
And even through the harsh sunrays and burning of sunscreen in his eyes, he’d notice you were already looking at him.
Every single time, without fail.
It should’ve been weird, or it could’ve been a coincidence, but he was smart enough to come to the conclusion that it was neither. It was deliberate, purposeful.
Day in and day out, he sat high on his chair, carefully crafted wood painted white and worn down from years of use and exposure to the elements. It was something that made him stick out in a crowd, something that was impossible to ignore for anyone beneath him.
And yet the moment he locked eyes with you, he felt scrutinized under your gaze—small.
You’d always look away when he caught you, but the way you averted your eyes was nothing of a child doing something they weren’t supposed to.
It was that of satisfaction, like his acknowledgment that you had been staring was confirmation that yes, he knew, and he noticed.
Always.
This was the seventh weekend in a row since the start of June that you’ve come here to see him, he keeps count.
Bucky never approached you. Not when he was clocked out and saw you in the parking lot, and certainly not when he was on the clock.
For him, playing eye tag had been more than enough for him—at least for the past six weekends.
He’d like to think he was a composed guy. After all, he needed to be level-headed for the sake of his job. God forbid the common occurrence of a fight breaking out required his intervention.
But the moment he catches you looking at him for the hundredth time this hour and you don’t look away?
He thinks nothing else makes more sense than to do something about it.
Bucky pushes the rescue tube off his lap, ignoring the way it rubs against the aching bulge in his dampened swim shorts.
He descends the ladder, holding your gaze the entire time even through the swarm of heads that suddenly appear once he’s on your level.
For the greater good of the people, he tries to convince himself. But with the way your legs were glistening in the sun, he’s sure he’d come crawling even without being under the guise of doing his job.
Bucky walks quick and sure along the hot sand like it was concrete, being careful not to step on any sandcastles or towels in his pursuit.
The closer he got, the more you looked away.
You turned the page of your book, manicured nails resting against the spine of it as you pretend to act oblivious to the muscled mass of man very quickly approaching you.
His presence casts a shadow over you, your book, your chair—everything. You had only ever seen him at a distance, admired his body from multiple feet away.
The undeniable truth quickly makes your throat go dry, and not even your untouched lemonade could help you ignore it.
He was huge.
“You need something, sweetheart?”
He calls out all authoritative, like that means anything to you.
And surely, surely because you’ve been watching him like he was something you needed to commit to memory, you’d say something.
No.
Not a chance.
Your sunglasses are readjusted to sit as high on the bridge of your nose as they’ll go, hiding your wandering eyes behind a dark tint as you look down at your book.
So you could watch him from afar, but looking him in the eyes was off the table.
Right.
Bucky’s eyebrows knit tight in confusion, pink tongue peeking out to lick the corner of his lip.
Had he been wrong? That in his weird obsession with analyzing every little thing about you, he had somehow manipulated himself into thinking that you had been doing the same to him?
Of course not. Why else were you doing everything in your power to ignore him?
Any normal, sensible person would give him a polite smile, a shake of their head, and a friendly, ‘All good here,’ if he was lucky.
Yet you sat there, content with denying his existence like he wasn’t standing big and tall in front of you, taking up space in a way that no average man ever should.
You saw yourself as a prize to be won—but he’s had just enough with you and your unfulfilling stares, that he’ll take.
With a huff, he takes another step forward and invades your space. You’ve been staring from your domain, thinking your little umbrella and beach chair would be enough to keep him away.
Bucky reaches forward, using two fingers to shut the book you had been holding in two hands.
Jesus.
You don’t move, don’t even attempt to stop him as he takes matters into his own hands.
He hits the ‘eject’ button on your dingy little boombox, and a silver disk slides out as the music comes to a halt.
And you just watch, because that’s all you ever do.
He has to do all the work, and even if he swore he wouldn’t be trying to win you over, he sure as hell is working hard for it.
With every stretch of muscle, every ripple of tanned skin that moves with purpose and impatience, it becomes extremely obvious why he has this job.
A man like him was made for this work, the kind of work that required enough strength to pull another grown man out of the ocean’s current.
But also the kind of work that required the gentleness to handle women and young children.
His hands are careful as they reach out to pull your sunglasses off your face, staining the lens with fingerprints and folding the sturdy material like it was as delicate as you were.
Bucky doesn’t give them to you, he holds them in the warm palm of his big hands, letting the ends just barely peek out from his grip.
Come and get it. You could practically hear the words as they were left unsaid, and he tilted his head to the side to beckon you to follow him.
“Up.”
If you were going to watch, you may as well listen.
You stand up, craning your neck back to look him in the eyes now that there was nothing to hide you from him.
Up close, he can see every detail of you now that he wasn’t left imagining how beautiful you were. The shape of your nose, the curve of your eyelashes, and the soft pout that jutted out on your bottom lip.
He doesn’t feel nearly as intimidated by your gaze now, not when he could wrap his arm around your head and still have room for another. Not when his shoulders provided more shade for you than your umbrella ever could.
Bucky pulls his own sunglasses over his eyes, resting them in the sweaty strands of curly hair as he looks over the beach one last time.
There were plenty of other lifeguards on duty now, it was the busiest time of day, and no one would question the ‘Lifeguard Off Duty’ sign anyways.
So you follow him, seeing the way he parts the crowd by doing nothing. You keep your head down, walking along the dips in the sand where he had stepped.
He leads you underneath the boardwalk, away from the sun, away from prying eyes. The sounds of families of four and crashing waves fade into the distance as he drags you into the dingy break room.
The wood planked floor is sandy, the walls smelled of water, and you don’t get the chance to finish your gallery walk before he’s invading your space again.
His lips force themselves onto yours, molding your mouth with his and letting your tongues greet one another.
You let out a hungry moan, one that he quickly reciprocates. For everything you did, he returned the favor with equal intensity.
You watched, he fantasized.
Bucky’s hands slide up your back, splaying over the exposed skin entirely, toying with the strings of your bikini top until they snap and the garment falls between the two of you.
Your breasts press against his bare chest, the weight of them feeling so familiar over his heart. He’s spent so long staring at them, wondering how they’d feel in his hands, in his mouth.
But he’s had enough staring, and he’s certainly had enough wondering.
He lifts you by your waist, bringing you over to a creaky table that sat on the side of the room. There were papers strewn about, and he pays them no mind as he flips you over and pushes you down.
Bucky would make sure you stayed face down, cheek pressed uncomfortably against the surface of the table, feeling the sticky summer heat in the plastic as you’re forced to look at the wall.
No more watching, you had lost that privilege.
With your feet dangling in the air and legs shaking like you had forgotten to stay still, he kneels down behind you.
And even from where he’s crouched down, he can still see over the curve of your back and the dip of your neck.
It was his turn to stare as shamelessly as you had. You liked it just as much as he did.
He pulls your swimsuit bottoms to the side, the material stretching at his will just like you would.
And for someone who never swam, you were soaked, embarrassingly so.
Your slick coated you from top to bottom, glistening on your cunt and clinging to the double-lined fabric.
“Fuck,”
You hear him mutter under his breath, spoken in disbelief.
He’s everything but patient as he forgoes untying the laces of your bottoms, borderline barbaric in the way he tears the expensive fabric like it was a sheet of paper.
When you let out a whine of protest and lift yourself up on your forearms, he grabs your head and forces you back down onto the table with a thud.
Absolutely not.
“I’ll replace it,”
He rips another seam.
“With the money you watch me work so hard for.”
The words are taunting, as if you were the reason he couldn’t do his job properly.
You were.
Sitting all pretty and stealing his attention, like his job didn’t depend on the fact that he needed to be ready at all times to save someone’s life.
Bucky’s still on the clock, his shift didn’t end for another hour. But he couldn’t take another sixty minutes of getting dizzy from how often he looked over at you.
And he knows that his boss could walk in at any moment, fire him on the spot for negligence, and he wouldn’t care one bit.
He’s waited too long, and he’s sure you’d find a way to track him down at his next job. He hoped you would.
Discarding the tattered fabric of your swimsuit, he drags his thumb from the inside of your thigh to the wetness of your folds.
Bucky takes a deep breath, leaning in closer to really, really, take you in. Your scent forces a guttural groan from his chest, the noise sounding equal parts frustrated and reverent.
He slides his middle finger inside you, sinking in so slowly like he needed to feel every inch of skin being coated in your arousal.
An airy, breathless sound slips from your mouth, vibrating against the table.
He lets out a quiet sigh, deep and heavy as he curls the digit upwards to hit that sensitive spot deep inside your core.
You’re warm in ways the sun could never compare to.
Tight, like a hug from a long lost friend.
So wet, he’d dedicate all of his swim training to you.
His other hand tightens around your scalp, digging into the roots of your hair as he adds another finger, stretching you open, breaking you in.
He hates that he waited seven weeks to do this.
He hates that you have him so undone without ever saying a word to him.
And he hates that he double-knotted his swim shorts this morning.
Bucky stands up. And with just as much mercy as he had shown your poor swimsuit bottoms, he snaps the flimsy string of his in half with a grunt.
You had spent weeks wondering what he looked like beneath his shorts, imagining just how well endowed he was from the glimpses of his lap.
You’ve seen him walk around before, seen the heavy bulge push against the seams in a way that someone would only notice if they were really looking.
And even with your face pushed down and eyes squeezed shut, you don’t need to see him to know the reality of the situation, to feel it.
Just like the rest of him, his cock is huge.
You would’ve been an idiot to assume otherwise, and yet when the blunt head prods at your folds like fingers in a filing cabinet, your face almost immediately twists in a wince.
With pulsing veins running up the sides like tinsel on a Christmas tree, and precum drooling from the tip like it was mocking your mouth—God, do you wish you could see.
Bucky bends at the knees, withdrawing his fingers from your cunt and wrapping it around his cock.
The flat of his palm mixes your slick with his, and he’s no longer able to differentiate where he starts and you end.
“Come on, sweetheart,”
He taunts, voice so deep and gruff that you feel it in your chest.
His hand leaves your head, dragging down the exposed skin of your back and finding solace in the dip of your waist.
He squeezes the soft flesh, a reminder.
You’re here. Not ten feet away, no longer staring from afar, no more thinking that would keep you safe.
Bucky feeds an inch into you, pressing his lips into a thin line at the vice grip you’ve already got on him. He swallows hard, you do the same.
“Let me in, yeah?”
He asks, like it was up to you at all.
You clench around the head, it stays still. Not quite inside, but definitely not out. Purgatory, he decides.
And he needs Heaven, can’t go back to the Hell you’ve put him through for the past two months.
Both of his hands grip your sides tight, leaving divots in your skin like his steps left in the sand.
The slide is brutal. It’s allowing, but unwilling to give in just yet. He’s panting behind you, choking back groans and grunts with every inch your cunt permits entry to.
When he’s finally, finally buried as deep as you let him, the both of you let out sounds that neither of you are sure belong to who.
Huffs leave your mouth, warming the plastic of the table as his hips stay right against your ass. He tries to be still, even if you don’t deserve it.
But he can’t, not after waiting this long already. Your insides scorch impossibly hot, and for once he doesn’t mind a little sunburn.
Pulling back, he drags his cock out of you, moaning low in his throat at how your hole doesn’t let him.
Bucky had already used his ‘lose his cool’ card once, when he had decided to abandon his shift and bring you here. So logically, that meant he wouldn’t do it again, right?
Wrong.
“‘m sorry, sweetheart.”
The apology is muttered out, like he knows it’s a lie. He’s not sorry in the slightest bit. He couldn’t possibly be, not with you wrapped so tight around him it’s making him lightheaded.
His hands readjust their grip on your waist, pinkies lifting your hips the slightest bit as he pulls your ass flush against the patch of hair that blooms from his v-line.
And he slides in slowly, driving home with a throaty groan. He fills you to the brim, and there’s still an inch or two of his cock that he still can’t manage to fit inside.
But he tries, oh, does he try.
Bucky digs his fingernails into your plump, soft skin, thrusting in and out of you at an already brutal pace. The push and pull of his cock is unforgiving, rejecting the apology that you’d never give to him anyway.
He’s horribly impatient in the way he lifts you off the table just to drag you onto him, using your drooling pussy as an outlet for the frustration you instilled in him.
Your eyes squeeze shut as a string of shaky moans flood from your mouth like an oil spill. Your hands curled into fists on the table, trying to grip the plastic to no avail.
His teeth grit as he leans over you, driving his cock deeper and deeper into you with every heavy push of his body. He lets out a growl every time his hips meet the reddened skin of your ass.
You feel the brush of his whistle against your back with every cant of his hips, swinging back and forth against the sweat-slicked skin like a mockery of his job.
And when he decides it just isn’t enough anymore, he leans down fully to press his front right against your back. The smell of your sunscreen and sweat makes him groan as he reaches an arm up to wrap around your neck.
You let out a gasp as you writhe in his hold, and he shushes you immediately as he squeezes tighter.
“None of that, don’t you fucking dare.”
It’s a threat that’s more than warranted, and he’s willing to do or say whatever he can to keep you here—tucked between his bicep and forearm, using the grip as leverage to fuck into you harder with every thrust.
Your cunt clenches, and his rhythm falters.
He can’t believe he’s this close to blowing his load inside you already.
His legs are shaking almost as uncontrollably as yours, and he feels slightly less embarrassed to know you’re just as close as he is.
With his mouth right next to your ear, you can hear every gut-wrenching, lung-bursting groan that forces itself from the depths of his soul.
It’s animalistic in the way he fucks you like it’s instinct, with nothing else on his mind other than to breed you, to make you his for good.
“Babe—”
Bucky chokes off, and every thrust grows sloppier than the last.
Your stomach is in knots, and a familiar, buzzing feeling gathers in between your legs. You clenched impossibly tighter around him, and he loses it right then and there.
With a guttural, gravely moan, he buries himself right against your cervix and spills. His cock pulses inside you, and you feel every contraction of the tight skin against your walls.
He pumps you full of his hot release, spurting the thick liquid in droves and coating your insides.
It leaks from around his shaft, dripping out of your cunt and down the backs of your thighs. He doesn’t want to leave, but he’s sure if he didn’t now then he never would.
He’s dazed, nearly tripping over his feet as he pulls out of you and flips you over.
For a moment, he just stands there and pants. His eyes are hooded and his pupils are almost entirely blown out.
When you lift yourself up on your forearms, you follow his line of sight all the way down to your hole. You can’t see yourself, not nearly as much as he can.
It’s slightly wider than before, and he’s in awe at the fact that he stretched you that good, broke you in so hard that you were gaping for him.
And it’s full of him, his cum, his mark, his claim on you.
The thick, white substance coats and spills from your pussy slowly, like it was giving him time to admire the sight.
Bucky licks his lips, swallowing like he could already imagine what you tasted like right now. You see the puff in his chest, the unbridled need and insatiable desire that plagued him.
He takes a step forward, reaching a tentative hand out towards your body like he hadn’t been inside it just moments ago.
He presses hard and deep against your clit, tucking his fingertip underneath the sensitive hood with each and every rub.
You were still so sensitive, cunt clenching and clit throbbing with every tortuous circle of his thumb.
A whimper forces its way out of you, thighs tightening up and trembling around his hand.
Bucky looks down at you, mouth slightly ajar and soft puffs coming out. And he watches you—watches the way your cunt flutters around nothing, pushing out his release onto the table.
What he wouldn’t do to keep it inside you, make it take, seep right into every fiber of your cervix.
He’d be so good to you. Finish college, find a nice, real job.
And you haven’t spoken a single word to him this entire time, yet each time he looks deep into your eyes, he can see his future so clearly.
Three pairs of shoes at the door at all times, all different sizes. His dress shoes, your high heels, a pair of light-up sketchers.
Two sets of keys hung right in the foyer—just thinking about the jingling sound of metal has him moaning into the space between you two.
One bed he’d share with you. He’s never been a fan of shopping, but he’s confident he’d spend hours looking for the exact thread count and pattern of bedsheets you wanted if you asked him to come with.
Bucky hopes, and he prays that you’re not on the pill. That you want this just as much as he does.
He hopes that one of these last few weekends he’s still working, you’ll come up to his lifeguard chair with a sheepish look on your face and a positive pregnancy test clutched in your small hands.
It’s selfish, he thinks. You have a perfect life, the kind that allows you to afford such high-end sunglasses and spend your weekends at the beach.
And he wants to ruin it all.
He wants you bedridden, breasts swelling and back aching, whining for him to rub your feet.
The image he’s created of you in his head dissipates as you let out a soft, choked breath, bringing him back to a reality where he only has you in his moment.
Bucky doesn’t say anything. He can’t. He can feel the nagging heaviness at the back of his throat that’s begging to be let out, the pressure behind his eyes that threatens to spill over.
He wants to draw this out as long as he can, have you writhing beneath him and holding your pleasure in his hands.
But much to his dismay, it only takes him one finger and a pussy full of his cum to get you to fall over the edge. You force the rest of it out, it pools at his feet.
Your eyes roll back and your mouth drops open in a silent cry, hands reaching out to dig into the tanned flesh of his forearms.
He hoped you'd do the same when you were laying in the delivery room, legs hitched up the same way they were around his waist, screaming and crying just like you were right now.
His cock twitches at the thought.
When you’re past the height of it, he swallows your moans like it was his only sustenance, calloused thumb still guiding you through your orgasm as he messily slots his lips between yours.
He’s ruined the sweet tinted gloss you have on your lips, and he’d spend every last penny of his paycheck buying you more tubes if it meant he could lick it off every single night.
You come down from your orgasm like it’s a rude awakening. You’re completely naked, cunt and thighs sticky with cum that was equal parts his and yours.
You just fucked some twenty-something year old guy just because he couldn’t take the fact that you were making eyes at him.
The worst part is–you’d do it again.
Keep on meeting him here until it wasn’t a coincidence, until strangers turned into something more than that.
Bucky breaks the kiss with a hard sigh, like it physically pained him to pull away. It seemed the reality of the situation was beginning to dawn on him as well.
Wobbling to your feet, you walk on shaking knees over to where he had discarded your garments. Picking up the mess of expensive fabric and thick strings, you let out a soft huff.
It’s a sad sight, but you can’t be mad, not with the last drops of his cum leaking down your legs and your mind so fuzzy you can barely see.
You give him two fifty dollar bills that you had tucked in the inserts of your bikini top.
Bucky didn’t think girls actually did that.
Handing over the money, you tell him to buy you a cheap bathing suit from the boardwalk with half, and a Plan B from the convenience store down the road with the other.
So you weren’t on birth control.
Now he's more than happy to oblige, pulling up his swim shorts that he’s selfishly kept mostly intact. The strings are torn in all sorts of ways, and the waistband sits loose on his hips.
Peeking his head out the break room door, he sees that the beach is just how he left it. Although he’s not sure how he’s supposed to return to work after this.
But he follows your directions without a question, walking through the hot sand with balls that were much emptier than when he first saw you.
He picks out a hot pink bikini for you, not nearly as expensive as the one he had ripped off your body, but it’d work.
He hands the cashier the first fifty, placing the bikini on the counter and a glass bottle of soda to make up some of the difference.
And he knows exactly where the convenience store is, he goes there every break to buy lunch.
But he tells the cashier to ‘keep the change’, and walks right back where he left you, leaking and aching with traces of his cum.
Bucky pockets the other fifty, smirking to himself as he readies his lie for you, ‘Sorry, sweetheart. Must’ve dropped it somewhere on the boardwalk.’
It’s half-assed, and no sensible person would believe it. But he’s hoping you’d humor him, nod and thank him anyways.
You’d slip on your new bathing suit, smooth over the mess of your hair, and walk out the door with a blush on your cheeks and your eyes finally kept to yourself.
You’d go home, drown yourself in work for the week, forget all about making that short trip to the drugstore to buy that tiny pill.
One day of forgetting would pass, then three, and then suddenly the five day safeguard was over—and it’d be too late.
What a shame that’d be.
Bucky hopes that by the sixth day—and every day after that, he’d see you again.
Summary: They had a deal. She would surrender her control; he would take it. Love had no place in such a relationship, did it?
Warnings: 18+ Content: friends with benefits, blowjobs, lots of cum, cum eating, cum in pussy, unprotected vaginal intercourse (don't do that), mentions of cheating, angst, crying, dom x sub dynamics including a sir kink and the use of puppy as a petname, BDSM features including begging, following orders/instructions, mentions of ropes, being tied/suspended, mentions of edging and overstimulation and the use of toys, ass whipping with a belt, mention and use of a safeword, chocking, two insecure idiots being in love, metal arm kink, fingering, rubbing of cock on pussy, multiple orgasms, aftercare. Let me know if I missed anything.
A/N: this is a self-indulgent fic I wrote simply because I wanted to read and now it's finally done so I'm sharing it with you, babies:"💜💜 I just started at a new job and it's very tiring and energy and time consuming so I thought I'd post something before I get swept up in the real world of numbers and targets and not being broke. I really hope you like this one and I love you all with every bit of me💜
~
As most one-night stands start, they had met at a bar.
She was sitting all alone with her palm hugging a beer bottle, her face carrying the saddest look. She had turned down every guy that had tried to approach her that evening.
Bucky had been watching her all night, lost in deep thought as she barely raised the warming bottle to her lips, the melancholic look marring her features never leaving.
She had only smiled once that night, and it was for Bucky.
She was snapped out of thought when a louder song abruptly came on, startling her back to reality and that was when she saw him.
The most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on had his eyes on her from the other side of the crowded nightclub, and she found herself smiling at him.
He quickly turned his gaze away, suddenly shy that he was staring.
She wanted to ignore the man, telling herself she had a lot on her plate already, that it would likely be a mistake to go talk to him; that she needed to keep her distance from men for a while at least. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t ignore him.
Even with his back to her, his presence was too strong to simply be ignored.
So she disregarded her minds’ screams and went to talk to him.
Bucky almost chocked on his drink when he saw that it was her who had approached him, but he managed to compose himself.
“Were you ever planning on talking to me?” She teased with a smile as she sat down next to him at the bar.
And just like that, they were talking.
They talked about anything and everything, the deepest things as well as the silliest.
She was so easy to be around and she actually made the man laugh.
She had no idea, but Bucky didn’t think he had even cracked a smile in weeks.
Before she could decide what was right and what wasn’t, she had her lips on his, and before he could overthink it, Bucky was taking her back to his place.
It has been a long time since the man had had the chance to like someone, and he liked her even more when she didn’t make him feel bad about himself that night.
The metal arm didn’t faze her.
She didn’t ask intrusive questions or even let her gaze linger. She treated it just like his other arm, wrapping both around her back as she straddled Bucky on his couch, making out with him like she has been waiting for him her whole life.
But that wasn’t the only reason Bucky appreciated her so much that night.
She had gotten on her knees for him, both of them fully naked at that point, her boobs swaying lightly as her hand pumped his hard cock, lubing him up with his pre-cum.
Her hands were magic and he didn’t want to tell her that he was too close to exploding just from her soft hand palming his tip.
She had barely gotten Bucky in her mouth when he had started cumming all over her.
The sight of his fists clutching the couch, mouth open as groans left his chest while copious amounts of cum covered her mouth, chin, neck and boobs had her wetness dripping down her bare thighs.
When he was back on earth again and his vision was no longer black, Bucky started apologizing profusely when he realized what had happened.
He had come way too fast. All over her. Without her getting to finish even once. He didn’t even get to touch her down there.
Bucky thought she was definitely going to leave.
“It’s okay,” she said with a kind smile as her clean hand caressed up and down one of his thighs, “I don’t mind.”
And before Bucky could explain that it has been a long time for him, she was collecting his cum off her skin with her fingers and slipping them into her mouth, maintaining eye contact with the man and almost giving his old heart an attack.
Bucky stared with parted lips, cock already hardening again, as she shut her eyes and moaned over the taste of him.
She had managed to eat every bit of cum that had gotten on her face and neck before Bucky unfroze and lost it.
He grabbed his shirt and hastily wiped her chest clean of his cum before eagerly carrying her to his bed.
He thought her surprised giggle as she called him a “caveman” had to be the sweetest sound he had ever heard until he pushed his cock in her and her wail of his name echoed throughout the quiet bedroom.
Bucky was hooked on the sight of her, the taste of her, the smell of her, and the feel of her.
Her walls were hugging his cock so tight that he thought he wouldn’t be able to get the rest of it inside. Her hands were scratching at his back as she tried to adjust to his size with a silent scream on her face.
“Relax,” Bucky had told her softly.
It was a simple word, but it was the most exhilarating thing when she had immediately listened, her pussy muscles relaxing for him at once, thighs spreading wider to accommodate him better.
Bucky was amazed by her ability to listen to instructions; it awakened an unmatched feeling inside of him.
Once he was buried to the hilt inside of her, Bucky wanted to see what else he could make her do; how much she might obey, so he stayed still.
“I’m ready, you can move.” She had nodded to him, thinking he was waiting on her.
But that wasn’t why Bucky wasn’t moving. He knew she was ready, her juices were ruining his sheets for heaven’s sake.
“I mean, if you ask nicely enough…”
He was just giving it a try, and if she didn’t go along with it he would still give her what she wanted—
“Please,” she begged, eyes pleading as she wiggled her hips, “please fuck me, Bucky.”
Fuck.
Bucky couldn’t think much after that, his body moving of its own volition as he pulled out and slammed back inside her pussy.
It was one thrust. One single thrust had her arching her back and shouting out his name.
He completely broke down, fucking her with abandon, just wanting to hear more of her; feel deeper inside of her.
The bedpost slammed against the wall repeatedly as she screamed with every hit of Bucky’s cock to her g-spot.
The way she was scratching his back, whining, wailing and writhing under him as he pounded her into his bed should’ve and could’ve been enough for Bucky, but he couldn’t help but want more.
“Open your eyes,” he gave her another command, knowing it might be hard for her to manage that one with how deep he was giving it to her.
But her eyes were instantly on him, fighting to stay open as his fat cock filled her up again and again.
“Keep looking at me,” Bucky had told her, his right hand coming up to wrap around her neck.
He was slow and gentle, just waiting for her to stop him or refuse what he was doing.
But she had managed to surprise him again because instead, her hand had come up to his, fully wrapping his palm around her throat before showing Bucky the right amount of pressure to apply.
Fuck, she had to be an angel sent specifically to him from heaven. It seemed like whatever god was up there had finally had mercy on him.
She wasn’t only okay with Bucky’s hand being on her neck, she was showing him how to choke her as his cock fucked her raw within an inch of her life too.
Bucky felt his thrusts stutter as he almost came at the sight of her: mouth open with nothing but his name coming out of it, throat held in his palm and eyes battling to stay open as they rolled back in her head, her pussy chocking his cock.
And when he thought she couldn’t get anymore perfect, she started screaming out a request, “can I please cum? Please, Bucky!”
She was asking his permission to let herself feel the pleasure he was so willingly giving her.
Bucky felt high as he groaned, “cum”, and watched her hand hastily come down to rub her clit once, twice before she fell apart around his cock.
Her thighs involuntarily clasped around Bucky as they shook with the rest of her body, her orgasm hitting her like a thousand trains, making her back bow.
Bucky’s hand tightened around her throat the slightest bit as he felt her pussy shutter around his cock and felt himself get closer to his own release, thrusts becoming erratic.
“Please cum inside me, Bucky. Fill me up with your cum, need it,” she pled and the man could only take so much.
Bucky came and he came hard, proving the cum he had painted her body with earlier to be just a sample of what his cock really had to offer.
When they could both breathe normally again, she found herself in his arms, pitching him an idea, too satisfied and full of cum to stop herself and rethink.
And to her happiness, Bucky actually agreed.
~
When they first started that type of deal, she said she didn’t want a relationship.
Bucky respected that and he was okay with it because although he liked her very much, he knew he wasn’t the relationship type himself. He didn’t believe himself fit for romantic relationships. He thought he was too messed up for such stuff.
And she was just like him.
She didn’t know how to be loved; didn’t know how to receive love. She didn’t think she deserved it. She didn’t think she was worth it. Never thought of herself as beautiful enough or attractive enough or lovable enough.
So the dynamic they came up with was their best option.
They were going to be friends with benefits. Except, the benefits were much more extreme than the usual, vanilla sex that would come to mind. So friends with benefits with a fun twist.
After being manipulated for so long, Bucky wanted nothing but to be in charge of his life, body and mind; to be in a position of power where he had the upper hand.
She, on the other hand, needed her freewill to be taken away from her. Being as responsible as she was in her everyday life, she would get too exhausted; drained. She wanted decisions to be made for her as she only obeyed and conformed. She wanted to be used until her head held no thoughts of her deadlines or tasks.
She wanted choking and spanking and bondage. She wanted domination.
Bucky needed to feel in control, and she needed to give up control.
Take mine, she said, take my control away and make it yours.
It was a perfect match. They had clearly communicated their boundaries, wants and needs. They had established their roles, likes and dislikes. And they had agreed on a few simple rules:
It was strictly sex; only sex.
No kissing on the lips no matter what.
No cuddling afterwards even if aftercare took place.
No strings attached.
The safe word meant they stopped; no questions asked.
Bucky wasn’t exactly on board with number 2 because he knew what her lips felt like on his and he wanted more of that. But she said it would only complicate things; that it might get feelings involved and they couldn’t have that.
So he agreed. He really just wanted her to be as comfortable as possible.
And they had almost done it all in 6 months. She had let Bucky tie her down, spank her, choke her, use toys on her, edge her, overstimulate her, fuck her in every position known to humans and on every service that could take their weight and Bucky’s pace.
But deep down, Bucky knew that she still needed more even if she had claimed otherwise.
He knew that she was frequently going on dates in between their sessions, desperately searching for the one that would manage to sweep her off her feet and magically change the way she looked at herself with his unconditional love.
So when she sat with him that one day and told him she wanted to stop what they were doing because she wanted to commit to her new boyfriend, Bucky wasn’t surprised. He was heartbroken, but not surprised.
And so he let her go.
He didn’t want to. He never wanted to. But Bucky knew that he couldn’t give her what she wanted, and so he was going to let her have it with someone else. He needed her like the air he breathed, but he couldn’t bring himself to stand in her way.
Bucky was addicted to her, yes, but he wasn’t going to be selfish and get in the way of her possible happiness with that new boyfriend whoever he was. He just hoped that that new man deserved her.
~
The real surprise came when Bucky opened his door one day and she was standing there looking like an abandoned puppy three months after their last meeting.
Three months without her that have been torture. Three months during which Bucky couldn’t bear the mere idea of bringing another woman to his bed. Three months of replaying their intense scenes in his head with his hand down his pants.
Oh how he missed seeing her choke on his cock. He missed her begging for him to touch her, to relieve her heavy shoulders of everything they had to carry. He missed seeing her come for him so hard that tears would start rolling down her face.
But now she was here, and she didn’t look okay. And it made Bucky realize that he has mostly missed her being her.
“I need you, Buck,” she whispered and he instantly opened the door wider for her.
Bucky let her inside and she climbed on his lap the second he sat down. He held her in his arms on his couch for as long as she needed, internally aching to know what had gotten her looking so dejected.
He knew it had to do with the new man in her life and he could only calm himself down by imagining his fist slamming against the faceless man’s nose.
“What did he do?” Bucky finally broke the silence, making her pull her face from his neck and look at him.
God, she looked so hurt, so broken.
He wished he could fix it, but how could he when he himself needed fixing?
“If I ask you for a favor, would you do it for me?” Her faint voice asked instead, pulling away from their hug.
“You know I will,” Bucky replied without reluctance.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
He would do anything for her. He would kill again for her, burn down whole cities and cross oceans on his bare feet for her if she asked him to.
She got up from Bucky’s lap, getting down on her knees before the couch just like the first night he had brought her home, “I want you to punish me, Bucky.”
“What?”
Where did that come from? She wanted to start a session? Now? In that state?
“I want you to spank me. Punish me.” She repeated calmly.
“Doll, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Bucky tried to remind her, wanting her to know that whatever that man did to ruin his relationship with her wasn’t her fault.
And he wasn’t seriously about to give her a spanking when she looked like that, so small and worn out and wounded.
“Please, Bucky.”
Damn, she begged so sweetly. But he just couldn’t.
Bucky never thought he would say no to a scene with her, especially a passionate one, but he couldn’t hurt her even more than she looked to be hurting.
That was not what they did this for.
“Doll, get up. Sit down and talk to me,” Bucky said softly, trying to lift her up by the shoulders.
“Buck, you said you’d do it.” A sad frown settled upon her delicate face with a look that Bucky knew well.
She was getting more heartbroken at his rejection. She really did want this. She needed it and she could only come to Bucky for it. How could he keep turning her down?
“Okay, doll. How many?” Bucky asked despite himself, rubbing his palms together.
“Not with your hands,” she said with a smile, getting up and walking inside the bedroom to his closet.
Bucky carded a hand through his long hair as he waited for her to come back with whatever item she was choosing, knowing this was going to be the hardest time he has ever had to cause her pain, even if it was pain she wanted and asked for.
“With this.” She left the belt she brought on Bucky’s lap as she got back to her place by his feet.
“Doll, this is the thickest belt I own,” Bucky told her, wanting to intimidate her into changing her mind.
He needed her to change her mind. He couldn’t hit her with that thing. Not today. Probably not ever.
“I know.” She nodded with the same sure smile.
“Doll, why?” Bucky touched her cheek tenderly, desperate to understand.
If she would just talk to him, he would do his best to fix it. He probably couldn’t, but he was ready to try.
“Please, Bucky. For me, I need this.” She, again, avoided answering his questions.
“This is gonna hurt, doll,” Bucky warned, examining the belt in his lap.
Damn, it was heavy.
“I know. That’s the point.” She nodded in acceptance, “I need it to hurt.”
“Doll.”
“C’mon, Buck, we’ve done this before. You’ve had me dangling from your ceiling for god’s sake!”
He remembered that day. It was a week after she had gotten promoted and everything was becoming too much for her.
She had Bucky suspend her upside down from his ceiling as he spanked her rear raw before getting her down and fucking her into oblivion until all she could worry about was if she would be able to take another orgasm.
She looked even sadder today, and she was asking for far less.
Maybe he could give her what she wanted.
“How many?” Bucky asked again with a clenched jaw, seeing that there was no way he was going to change her mind.
“As many as it takes for me to cry,” she replied and her answer sent a pang into Bucky’s chest.
So that was it. She needed to cry and she couldn’t. She just needed to cry; to give release to her pent-up tears.
Bucky knew that crying was something that she struggled with. He knew that one of the things she loved about what they did was the fact that she could cry during it all; during a spanking, an edging or even an intense orgasm.
But couldn’t it be done any other way this time? Maybe he could make her watch a sad movie or something?
“Doll, if it’s about you crying—”
“Bucky, please,” she stopped him, shaking her head with determination, “please give me this. I need it.”
If she could, she would have cried to get him to say yes faster.
Bucky sighed, glancing at her one final time before asking, “do you remember your safe word?”
“Red.” She smiled gratefully, adrenaline already pumping through her blood in anticipation.
Bucky slipped the hairband on his wrist down to his fingers, pulling his hair in a low bun before taking his shirt off, leaving himself in his white tank top.
Keeping his eyes on hers, he ordered: “strip and get on the bed, puppy. You know your position.”
“Thank you, Bucky.” She jumped up, placing a kiss on his cheek.
“What was that?” Bucky’s tone was deeper and his eyes darker.
It has started.
“Thank you, sir,” she quickly corrected herself.
“Go.”
One nod of his head and she was running to the bedroom to do as she was told.
As she took her clothes off, folding them piece by piece and leaving them on the chair in the corner of Bucky’s bedroom, he was outside readying himself for what he was about to do to her.
Bucky had pledged months ago that he would give her anything she needed or wanted during their sessions.
Leaving her fulfilled made him feel fulfilled and the first time he had his bare cock in her, Bucky knew he was wrapped around her littlest finger. It seemed like he was the one in control of those meet ups but control was actually always in her hands.
Now, if what she needed was a spanking to make her cry, Bucky knew how to give it to her, but he didn’t want to. He knew this belt was going to hurt a lot and he wished she would’ve chosen something less bad.
But a deal was a deal and he couldn’t back out now that he knew she was waiting naked on his bed.
She heard Bucky’s heavy steps coming closer and tried to regulate her breathing, reminding herself that she wanted this, that she begged for this, that she deserved this.
She trusted Bucky with her life, not just her body. She knew he was going to stop the minute she said her safe word and that made her a little calmer.
“You ready, puppy?” Bucky asked, gliding the tip of the belt across her bare ass from one cheek to the other.
She shivered, fixing her gaze on Bucky’s bedpost as she whispered, “yes, sir.”
And just like that came the first spank.
But it didn’t hurt, not like she had expected, not at all.
Bucky was going easy on her; too easy.
She didn’t like it.
“Harder, please,” she begged, lowering her head and sticking her ass out.
“Doll—”
“Bucky, please, you promised,” she pled, her voice thick with frustration at her inability to get what she needed from the one person who could give it to her.
Another spank came, a little stronger than the first, but still not enough.
“Did your arm get rusty in those three months?” She threw angrily, raising her eyes to glare at Bucky, “hit me like a man!”
Bucky knew she was just trying to rile him up, make him angry enough so that he would actually hurt her and even though he didn’t want to, he decided he would finally give her what she came for.
“Fine,” Bucky growled, pushing her face into his pillows by the hair and she immediately gave him a full view of her lower half, ass in the air and thighs spread.
He wasn’t going to be able to look at her face as he hurt her this time.
Bucky took a deep breath before finally giving her a real whip and she gasped at the force of it, “is that what you wanted, puppy?”
“Getting close,” she moaned, her words muffled into the pillows as she wiggled her ass for him.
Another similar spank hit her and then another and another until suddenly her body was getting hotter and her butt sorer.
She needed more. Just a little more to break the dam and get suffocating thoughts and burning tears out.
“More, please, sir,” she begged, voice so desperate that it had Bucky swallowing.
He gave an experimental whip on her thighs and she let out a startled scream.
“What’s your color?” Bucky asked at once, hesitant that he might have actually hurt her.
“Green.” Came her reply as she looked up to Bucky, “green, sir, please.”
She was begging for more of this.
Bucky recomposed himself and spanked her thighs with the belt again and she wailed out a “yes, thank you, sir!”, urging him on.
For the first time ever, however, Bucky was not enjoying this. He was not enjoying causing her pain and he was not enjoying knowing that he was supposed to make her cry by the end of it all.
His whips got faster and harder as his thoughts ran wild with worry, just wanting to get this over with as her moans and cries egged him on.
“Color?”
“Green!” She would answer every time he checked in with her.
Pictures of her boyfriend in bed with another woman flashed throw her mind and she stuck her ass out more, hiding her ashamed face in Bucky’s pillows. He let her touch him the way only she was supposed to touch him. He made her shout out in pleasure the way she never did with him. He made her scream his name; the name that was supposed to only roll off her tongue during intimate times.
Her mind kept replaying it all, making her squirm and stick her butt out further. She wanted it all to stop.
She needed this. She deserved this. She was stupid.
“Thank you, sir,” she muttered, a lump finally forming in her throat.
It seemed like whatever had happened this time, had been so bad that the normal amount of whips weren’t enough to get her mind off of it. She was still her, well out of sub space and still very much aware of the ache in her heart.
She needed that ache to move somewhere else, preferably to her ass.
“More, sir, please.”
Bucky’s shoulder started to slightly ache as he kept whipping her, again and again, just wanting it to be over so he could comfort her after as he heard her sniffles, and finally, with a particularly harsh spank on her lower thighs she screamed out, “red!”.
Bucky’s arm stopped immediately, dropping the belt on the floor as he listened as her soft cries get louder.
She burrowed her face in his pillow and let it all out, sobs wracking her entire body as she cried her bleeding heart out.
“Doll,” he whispered, regret filling him at the sight of her body trembling with each wail she let out of her chest.
He looked at her lower body and her ass and thighs were a crime scene, her skin painted in angry red welts all over.
“Please, leave me alone, Buck,” she wept, her face still hidden in his pillow.
“Let me take care of you, doll—”
“No, no. Just leave me,” she pleaded without turning to him.
“At least let me put something on your skin—”
“Please just leave me alone. Please, Bucky,” she sobbed harder, her fingers clutching the side of the pillow as she let her tears flow.
Bucky reluctantly left the room, giving her the space she asked for as guilt ate away at his heart.
He shouldn’t have listened to her. He shouldn’t have done that to her.
It was only when he sat down on the couch outside that he had realized how hard he had actually whipped her. His right shoulder ached, a few strands of his hair were out of place and sweat had forced by his hairline. All the realization did was make him feel more terrible about himself.
He knew he has done it before so many times, but this time was different.
She came to him hurt emotionally and instead of helping her feel better, he ended up hurting her physically too.
She did ask for it, but he could have said no. He could’ve insisted on not doing it.
The sound of her cries seemed never-ending and was absolutely heart-wrenching to listen to. Bucky could all but cover his ears to prevent it from reaching him as he beat himself up for causing it all again and again.
She winced as she sat up on the messy bed, hand on her naked chest as she tried to calm herself down, still hiccupping while her cries slowed down.
God, she had needed this so bad. She had needed it for days and she was so grateful for Bucky for giving it to her.
Being able to cry and let everything out was a blessing that people didn’t appreciate enough; one she was kind of deprived of and had to do a lot to get to enjoy.
When her heartbeat was somewhat slower and her tears have ceased, she slowly pulled herself down the bed and on her wobbly feet.
She looked out to the living room from the bedroom door to see Bucky back on the couch, leaning forward with his head in his hands and she knew he was blaming himself.
So she wiped her tears as much as she could and went back inside. She opened the drawer she knew too well and pulled out the Calendula cream Bucky had bought specifically for her.
She carefully walked to Bucky. She didn’t want him to feel guilty so she made sure not to wince as she took her steps.
She had wanted this. She had asked for it because she had needed it and he only helped her. She wasn’t going to let him berate himself for that.
She left the cream on the coffee table and gently removed Bucky’s hands from his face, guiding him to rest his back on the couch so she could sit herself back across his lap.
Bucky stopped her, standing up to take his pants off so that the material wouldn’t rub against her sensitive skin.
She smiled, her heart lurching at his gentleness and thoughtfulness.
He let her manipulate him into position, closely watching her red-rimmed eyes and swollen nose and lips as she made herself as comfortable as possible on his lap, the new lashes covering her behind out of his sight for now.
Bucky hugged her close, his hands stroking up and down her bare back as she pushed her nose in its place in the crook of his neck, “thank you.” She breathed gratefully.
Bucky only patted her back, pulling her closer in reply. He knew she meant her thanks, but he was still mad at himself for doing it.
She pulled back and let him take her in for a second before leaning in, making Bucky swallow.
“Now fuck me,” she whispered on his lips, grinding down on his covered cock despite the pain it gave her every time she rubbed her inflamed skin on Bucky’s boxers.
“Doll, I think you’ve had enough for today,” Bucky sighed, softly trying to get her off of him.
“Please, just once. I won’t ask for anything else.” She pleaded, her hands clutching the material of Bucky’s tank top, not wanting to leave his lap.
She didn’t want to be away from him. She just got here.
“Doll, give me the cream so I can take care of you,” he demanded, trying to maintain a stern tone so she would listen.
“You can take care of me this way too!” She whined, needy and desperate as she ground herself harder, smiling when she found him hard beneath her.
“I can’t, doll. I can’t. You’re hurt.” Bucky shook his head, gently pushing her to the side and getting up before she could straddle him again.
“Please, Buck,” she croaked out, on the verge of crying again as she grabbed onto his waist, “please don’t walk away.”
“Do you promise not to try anything if I sit back down?” He asked although he knew the answer.
“But I need you!” Anguished tears rolled down her flushed cheeks, “just one orgasm. Please, just one.”
Her constant begging was making Bucky’s cock leak inside his briefs, hard as a rock as he tried his best not to give in.
He had missed her so damn much, but this wasn’t right.
“Doll, come on, quit it. You’re hurt—”
“I haven’t cum in three months.” She cut him off, sniffling as more tears left her eyes, “he— he couldn’t— please.” She begged yet again, her hands cravingly clawing at Bucky’s tank top, wanting him to be close again.
“What?!” Bucky sat back down, wiping her tears away as he took her back into his arms.
She nodded in shame as she cast her eyes down, burrowing her face in his shoulder, “he couldn’t make me cum”.
“Not even with his mouth?”
“Especially not with his mouth,” she muttered, hating the memory of a different man touching her.
“And you didn’t get yourself off?”
She shook her head, still embarrassed as she hid from him.
“Why not?!”
“Couldn’t touch myself without your permission.” She looked up to him, her teary eyes sincere.
Bucky let himself just look at her for a beat longer.
She was with another man that she supposedly wanted to be committed to, but she still followed Bucky’s rules during that relationship.
“I can make you cum, doll,” Bucky said, his gaze darkening, “but I have one condition.”
“Anything,” she whispered, desperate for his touch, his lips, his cock.
She had missed Bucky beyond compare.
“Allow me to break a rule.”
“What—”
“I need to kiss you, baby.”
She smiled, her heart relieved despite its fluttering as she answered by pressing her lips to Bucky’s.
He laid her on her back on his couch, careful not to rub himself against her lower region as he devoured her lips. Bucky sighed on her lips, the first taste always the best.
He hasn’t tasted those lips in nine months, since their very first time together. He remembered them tasting of beer back then, but today it was chocolate lacing her tongue.
It was Bucky’s turn to be desperate as he ate up her whimpers, his tongue dancing with hers as he deepened the kiss. He wanted to gobble her up, get as close to her as possible, taste every inch and swallow every whine.
He realized he couldn’t get as close as he wanted without his boxers scratching the welts on her sore skin.
Bucky pulled away for a second, leaving her to chase his mouth as he chuckled.
She whined, making grabby hands at him.
When he was done taking his boxers off, he got back on top of her, tenderly pushing her legs to her chest to keep them from bumping against the couch before slotting himself between her open legs as his mouth found its way back to hers.
“I can’t believe I let you take this away from me for so long,” he groaned, biting down on her lower lip.
She moaned in reply, pushing her hips up so she could get his cock to stroke against her.
She couldn’t believe she had deprived herself of those kisses either because she knew that she had fallen for the man anyways.
One swipe had Bucky hissing as he felt how wet she was under him. He has needed her for so long, not letting himself find any kind of relief with another woman in her absence.
“Do you want my fingers, doll?”
“No, no, gimme your cock, Bucky, please,” she pleaded, squirming on her back on the couch, pushing her hips up.
“I can’t do that, baby. You know it. It would be too much,” he sighed, his thumb stroking her cheek.
“Bucky, please. I can take it. I’ve taken worse!”
“I can’t. I can’t hurt you anymore, doll.” Bucky admitted, his hand sliding her hair behind her ear.
“Bucky,” she whined and his eyes gave her a firm look, making her shut up at once.
“It’s either my fingers or you get nothing, puppy. What do you want?”
“Your fingers, sir,” she replied obediently, pulling her legs further against her chest to give him all the access he would need.
“That’s a good puppy.” Bucky smiled, thumb circling her swollen clit.
“Please,” she breathed, already throwing her head back at the simple touch.
Bucky chuckled, though he was internally fuming at the fact that she was with a ‘man’ who didn’t make her cum for three whole months, “ready for the first one, puppy?”
“Yes, sir.” She nodded quickly.
Bucky carefully slipped two of his metal fingers inside of her dripping cunt, groaning at the tightness he has missed so much, “I know this hand’s your favorite”.
“I thought you said one!” She moaned in surprise, pushing down on his fingers still.
“I meant first orgasm, puppy,” Bucky laughed, scissoring his fingers inside of her, opening her up exactly like he knew she liked.
And when he curled his fingers just right? She was wailing out the yes’s and thank you’s like it was the last time she would ever get fingered in her life.
“Fuck, baby, squeezing my fingers so hard already,” Bucky groaned, the tips of his vibranium fingers nudging her sweet spot with every indulging thrust, massaging and abusing until he saw her thighs quiver with her first orgasm.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she squealed as Bucky let her come down from her high, fingers slowing down their movements without leaving her leaking pussy.
“Thank me when we’re done, doll.” He smirked, twisting his fingers inside of her.
Bucky got them out for a second only to slip back three fingers instead of two, feeling her cunt hungrily swallow them as she cried out at the delicious stretch.
He bit his lip, shaking his head as he got to business, “fuck, I’ve missed you so much”.
~
“How we feeling, puppy?” Bucky asked her as he saw her legs tense again.
“So good, so so good, sir. Thank you,” she sobbed in pleasure, feeling her thighs shake for the fifth time that afternoon.
“You’re such a good puppy, cumming so hard for me,” Bucky groaned, feeling the pull of her pussy as he tried to take his fingers out, moving them on her clit instead, “keep cumming baby”.
“I can’t take anymore. Please, I can’t.” She shook her head as she tried to squirm away from Bucky’s skilled fingers.
“Okay, okay,” Bucky chuckled, raising one hand up in surrender as his other went into his mouth.
She was gasping for air as she let her legs go, grimacing when her ass touched the couch. She raised her thighs back up, opening them when Bucky hovered over her body for another kiss.
His cock swiped against her sensitive pussy, making her clench when she felt how hard he was. Bucky was so hard it must be getting painful by now.
“Bucky, I can do one more,” she said against his lips.
“Oh you getting greedy on me, puppy?” Bucky smiled, instantly complying as he brought his hand down between their bodies.
She shivered at the mere tracing of his fingers on her pussy lips, “not with your fingers.”
“Come on now, baby, I thought we’ve already talked about this,” Bucky said, ready to pull away from her body.
“You don’t have to put it inside.” She held onto his waist with all her might, “just rub it on me. I can take that.”
“Baby,” Bucky hesitated, his resolve getting weaker as he imagined the feeling of her silky, drenched pussy under his cock.
“Please, Bucky, just rub it on my pussy. Use me. Make yourself cum.”
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Bucky whispered, getting hold of his cock.
He swiped the tip between the lips of her cunt, moaning lewdly at the feeling he had missed for months.
She was so wet, so sensitive and so soft.
Bucky was never one to cum fast; not after his very first time with her. But she looked so good under him, already fucked out of her mind. She felt even better and he could only handle so much.
He couldn’t believe she was going to make him cum this quick just by letting him nudge her pussy with the tip of his cock.
“Fuck, baby, this beautiful pussy’s gonna make me bust and I didn’t even get to fuck her!” Bucky groaned, feeling his abs get taut as he tried to hold off his orgasm for as long as physically possible.
He didn’t know where to look; she looked gorgeous everywhere and it was making it harder for him not to cum right then and then.
“I’m cumming,” she gave a shout before shaking underneath him for the sixth time.
“Fuck, yes, cum for me, doll.” Bucky groaned, squeezing at his base to hold his orgasm off.
“Slip the tip inside me, Buck,” she begged, still catching her breath and writhing underneath him needily as if he hadn’t just given her five mind-blowing orgasms on his fingers.
He shook his head, trying to focus on not cumming.
“Please, Bucky, just the tip.”
“Shit, don’t say stuff like that.” Bucky’s head tipped back as he closed his eyes for a second to keep from staring into her imploring ones.
“Please, Bucky. Give me your cum. I missed being filled up of your cum so much.” She begged further, “I’m clean, I promise.”
“I never doubted you, puppy.” Bucky opened his eyes, pressing his lips to hers at once.
“Then give it to me,” she moaned on his lips, holding his face close to hers by the cheek, “give me all of your cum, Bucky. Fill me up until I’m leaking all over myself and your couch.”
“Fuck, doll, I can’t hold back anymore. You wanna be filled up? I’m gonna fill you up,” he growled, popping the fat tip of his cock inside her pussy.
She arched her back for Bucky, desperate to feel more of him, “thank you.”
She missed this cock stretching her to her limits so bad. She missed its girth and its veins and the hot cum it paints her walls with.
Bucky could all but let go at the first clench of her pussy, feeling his cum shoot inside of her until it had filled her up to the brim.
He watched her sigh in satisfaction, a smile spreading on her sweet face as Bucky’s hot load filled up her pulsating cunt.
Bucky reluctantly slipped out of her, watching his cum leak out of her ruined pussy, “oh thank you, doll.”
She couldn’t keep her thighs off the couch anymore, body limp and exhausted. She hissed once again when her raw skin touched the rough couch but didn’t pull her legs back up.
Bucky sighed, kissing her forehead lovingly before going to the bathroom to get a wet cloth to clean her up.
He tried to be gentle as he moved around her skin, wiping away the cum and the sweat. He went to leave the cloth in the bathroom and when he came back, she was tiredly perching herself on his lap.
Bucky smiled, taking the calendula cream from the coffee table to finally rub some against her marked butt and thighs. Aftercare was the most important part and he wasn’t about to forego it.
“How the hell did he fail at making you cum?” Bucky couldn’t help but ask as his palm rubbed circles on her sore skin.
“I guess it was me and my unorgasmable pussy.” She chuckled, making Bucky even madder at the man.
He had caused her to think there was something wrong with her and her body?
“Seems pretty orgasmable to me, doll. He’s the one with a broken penis.” Bucky grunted, focusing on keeping his touch gentle on her skin.
“Could make the other girl cum just fine, so not that broken.” She mumbled into her forearms as she rested her chin on them, wanting nothing more than to disappear.
“What?”
Now Bucky really was angry.
“He cheated on me.”
Her voice was so sad, so shattered.
“Doll,”
Bucky didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if there was even something to say to make this better.
“Yeah, found them together in his bed and everything. They do try to cover up with the white bed sheet just like the movies.” She chuckled again.
She was making jokes, trying to make light of her pain like she always would, but Bucky wasn’t laughing.
“Doll, I’m so sorry. He’s an asshole.”
“It’s fine, really. Doesn’t come as a surprise to me that I wasn’t enough for him.”
“It isn’t fine and you are enough. You’re everything.”
“Bucky, you don’t have to—”
“Be my girl.”
“What?” Her head whipped back so fast, thinking she must have imagined the words.
“Forget about the rules and the deal and forget about our fears. Be my girl, doll,” Bucky repeated.
“Buck, I—”
“I know I’m messed up beyond repair, but if there’s one thing I can’t mess up, it’s loving you, doll. And if I suck at it, let me die trying my best for you.”
“Why’d you have to go and talk about dying now!” She sat back up, not waiting for her skin to fully absorb the cream as she straddled him again.
Her body was hot all over as she took it his words; words she had imagined him saying while standing alone in the shower so many times before that she’d lost count.
“Be my girl.” Bucky smiled, “let me love you like you deserve, doll.”
“You—”
“Yes. I love you,” Bucky admitted, shrugging, his blunt nails clawing at the small of her back nervously.
“You love me love me?”
“I love you love you.” His palms flattened against the small of her back as he nodded with a bigger smile.
“I love you love you!” She exclaimed angrily, “why didn’t you say anything!” She punched Bucky’s chest.
“Ow!” Bucky laughed, holding her hand midway before she could hit him again, “I didn’t think I deserved you.” He kissed her fist.
The gesture left her quiet as a smile formed on her face despite herself.
She cupped Bucky’s cheek and kissed his lips softly, “you’re an idiot.”
“Still think I don’t deserve you, doll. But I can’t pretend like I’m not madly in love with you anymore.”
He tried to deepen the kiss but she pulled away, shocked.
“Bucky, what are you talking about? If anything, I don’t deserve you!”
“Baby, you deserve the whole world.”
“I don’t want the whole world!” She threw her hands in the air, “just one idiot who would hold me on his lap after a good spanking,” she mumbled shyly, making Bucky laugh.
“This one idiot is all yours if you’d have him, doll.” Bucky’s smile was for once reaching his eyes as he brought her in for another kiss.
“I love you,” she repeated, throwing her body around his, holding him tight, fearing it might be a dream.
“I love you too, baby. I don’t deserve you but fuck I love you so much it keeps me up at night like a teenager,” he confessed in her hair, his big hand pressing her closer to him.
“Stop saying that.” She looked him in the eyes, “you deserve everything good in this whole universe and then some. I just hope I could be enough.”
“Could be enough— doll, you’re enough. You’re just right. The exact amount. You’re it. You’re the best for me and the only one I want.”
She didn’t know what to say to that so she put her lips on Bucky’s again and let the kiss demolish her fears and insecurities.
She was in Bucky’s arms and she was enough. She was safe and loved.
This was Bucky. Bucky, who was never intimidated by her professional success. Bucky, who has met her at her worst. Bucky, who has never done her wrong. Bucky, who has gotten to see the real, raw her and never turned away.
It was in that very moment that she realized that running away from Bucky to find love with other men was the worst crime she had committed against herself because now the mere idea of being out of this man’s arms and heart was too illogical and incredulous to even consider.
“I love you,” Bucky repeated on her lips as they caught their breaths.
And she could see it all in his loving, blue eyes as they adored every inch of her face: she was home and she was never getting lost again.
