worthy - bucky barnes.
thunderbolts!bucky x reader word count: 2.6k disclaimers: pure smut and some angst. insecurity. power difference. sad bucky. heel kink, dumbification, lots of pet names used. reader is referred to as a woman. not proofread. a/n: I REFUSE TO ADMIT THIS WAS INSPIRED BY A YEAT SONG, I REFUSE- yeah so this was inspired by nun id change by yeat sue me. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MEAN BUCKY what is wrong with me. anyways I finally wrote something and it’s shit!!!!!! enjoy
there was no logical reason for a respectable woman like you to want a jaded man like him.
you, in your red-bottomed Louboutins. covered from head to toe in precious diamonds worth more than the vibranium he carried on his shoulder each day. purse stashed with thousands of dollars in cash, likely nothing more than pocket change to you.
he shouldn’t be your type. a man with a head full of trauma and a body covered in massive scars, dressed not to impress but instead for combative purposes. a man hardened by war and battles that continued no matter how many wars he put to an end.
he’s the type you try to recruit for your security team, not the type you recruit for manners such as these, such as the ones you find yourself in.
wandering hands up and down the sides of your dress, his featherlight touch making you shiver as your head leans back against his shoulder behind you. his heavy breath in your ear as he presses the bulge in his pants up against your ass, humming in approval as he feels you up.
“you like that?” he mumbles against your ear, watching your facial expressions change as his hands continue moving to more dangerous territory. the condescending tone of his voice tells you he already knows the answer.
a soft moan falls from your lips, your eyes falling shut as his fingertips trace over the low-cut neckline of your dress. his fingers on your skin are a maddening tease of what you truly want from him, where you truly want to feel his fingers.
“what do you think?” you breathe softly in response, your head falling as your gaze finds where his hands rest on your breasts. his chest rumbles behind you as he chuckles ever so lowly.
“doesn’t matter what I think, princess,” he goads as he chuckles. his hands fall from your chest to your hips as he grinds you back on him once, twice, before taking a step back. he leverages his grip on you to spin you around, forcing your eyes to meet his.
the massive hotel suite that you stand in the center of drifts out of his purview as he stares you down. black eyeliner painted over your lids, deep red lipstick painting your lips. your beautifully styled hair barely touched, still mostly intact.
he wants to ruin all of it. he wants to see how much better you look with the red tinge messed all over the bottom of your face, smudged onto his own. how your eyes look red and wet after he’s had his fill, your hair undone from his own doing.
all of it from his own doing. unwinding the perfectly wound princess who shouldn’t even dare look his way. allowing him, nay, asking him to defile her.
that’s all either of you want.
“Bucky,” you speak, and his eyes nearly go black at the sound of his name on your lips.
before you can say another word, he speaks up. “why don’t you go ahead and kneel for me, sweetheart?”
he clocks the twinge of surprise in your eyes, the way you’re completely unprepared for the request so suddenly, before watching as the shock morphs into desire. excitement. a small smirk appears on his face as he unconsciously tilts his head ever so slightly at you. you want it equally as bad as he does.
you soon do as he’s requested, getting on your knees in front of him while maintaining eye contact as you do. his smirk never once falters and his cock twitches in his pants at the sight of you waiting for his next move.
he closes the small distance between you, tangling his hands in your hair and wrapping them both around the back of your head, trapping you in his hold. “I think you’re smart enough to know what happens next, princess,” he taunts. “you have any objections to that?”
you quickly shake your head no under his grasp while simultaneously trying to hide your own small smile.
he chuckles at the sight.
“good girl,” he says, and then he’s pulling you right up against him, pressing your face up against the rough fabric of his cargo pants covering his erection. you appear to inhale sharply with the action, and he allows himself the pleasure of rutting up against your face a few times even as the fabric separates you.
“you want the real thing?” he goads, and you nod. he clicks his tongue once again. “use your words,” he admonishes.
“yes, please,” you whimper, although the words are muffled as your lips remain pressed harshly against him.
“go on, then.”
with that permission, you hurriedly bring your hands to unbuckle the tactical belt that sits on his hips, unbuttoning his pants as quickly as possible.
he’s most certainly not expecting it when you begin pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to his cock over the fabric of his boxers.
“fuck,” he curses under his breath, watching with wide eyes as you worship his cock of your own volition. you, the most perfect woman in existence, treating him as though he’s worthy of your adoration.
he grunts, growing impatient. desperate.
“enough teasing,” he breathes. the effect you’re having on him is evident in his tone, and it does nothing but encourage you to continue.
your manicured fingers begin peeling back the black boxers now stained with your saliva, and his cock springs free right in front of you.
his tip is red, leaking, and practically begging for you to nurse from it.
how are you to refuse?
you lean in, his hands still softly holding your head as he allows you to take the lead. except he nearly cums on the spot when you begin placing delicate kisses up and down his length, continuing to torment him, continuing to push him past his limit.
“you think this is funny?” he tries, yet the attempt at sounding commanding completely fails, his voice instead coming out broken and whiney.
you pause your ministrations to look up at him, the look in your eyes one of pure innocence, before asking, “what are you going to do about it?”
he snaps.
before you can even blink, one of his hands has freed itself from its seat in your hair, reaching to stroke his cock a few times and begins feeding it to you, forcing himself down your throat as his hand on the back of your head forces you to stay in place.
“not so funny now, are you, princess?” he says with fake sympathy in his voice.
by now, your hair is ruined from his hold on your head. your lipstick is smeared all over your face, and now, the length of his cock up to the base of his abdomen where he holds you against him.
and now, those beautiful tears have begun forming in your eyes, smearing your makeup and creating little trails down the sides of your cheeks as they fall.
“so pretty,” he whispers, wiping a tear from your cheek as he looks into your beautiful watery eyes. “you look so much prettier like this than you did before me. and you looked fucking stunning all done up, you know.”
you feel his words between your legs and in your chest, pulling at your heart even as you feel more turned on than you’ve ever been.
your breaths are rough and shaky as you struggle against him, but he doesn’t let go of you as he continues speaking. continues to torment you the way you did to him.
“can’t believe you got down on your knees for a man as dirty as me. wonder what your rich little friends would think if they could see you now,” he blathers on. his thumb brushes softly over your cheek as he finishes, “but, no. I wouldn’t share this beautiful sight with a soul.”
a few long seconds later, he finally lets up on his grip and allows you to take a stark deep breath before beginning to use your mouth for his own pleasure.
“that’s right. that’s a good girl,” he praises as he fucks your face with abandon. “my perfect little princess.”
it doesn’t take him long before he’s on edge, his balls heavy and begging for release in your warm hole.
“you gonna let me come down your throat? or are you too good for that, hmm?” he questions, letting go of his hold on you for just a few moments.
your choice to continue fucking yourself on his cock is all the answer he needs.
with a loud groan, he finally lets go, holding you against him and watching as you struggle to swallow as he blesses you with his massive load.
he lets go, and you crumple in on yourself on the floor, devolving into a coughing mess in front of him.
fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck–
he doesn’t hesitate to bend over and help you to your feet, dragging you to the bed and setting you down to allow you to compose yourself. yet you don’t let him go far, grabbing onto his forearm as you cough, refusing to allow him to step out of your reach.
“your turn,” you tease with a hoarse voice as you begin to lay back on the sheets, yanking him down with you.
as his weight covers you, he looks you up and down, assessing how perfect you look beneath him. feeling how hard he gets not long after his first release, all from the sight of you splayed out in bed under him.
“you sure?” he tries, but the words are cut off as you pull him in to kiss you.
he didn’t think you would let him kiss you. putting his cock in your mouth, sure. putting his fingers on your skin, pressing them to your clit, and pushing you over the edge, sure.
he assumed you would draw the line here. the reminder of the difference between the two of you; the reminder that no matter how you let him objectify you in bed, you’re still you and he’s still nothing.
but fuck, even with his release still on your lips, you taste like perfection.
he can’t help but give into you, kissing you back with fervor as he holds you tightly against him, your bodies pressed so close together you’d think you were one.
that’s what he hopes for as he begins hiking your dress up your thighs, as his fingers find their way to the sensitive skin of your cunt. he wants to feel like you’re one when he finally feels you gasp against him upon his finding of your clit, upon beginning to rub soft circles against you and making you feel as good as he made you feel.
“no,” you whine, and he almost freaks, pulling his fingers away from you without another thought. “no, need… need you to fuck me.”
he scoffs a little. “it’ll hurt if you don’t let me–”
“would you shut up and fuck me?”
no way he would protest that offer.
his hands roughly shove your thighs apart, glancing down at the heels that have still managed to stay attached to your feet.
“wanna feel those digging into me,” he encourages you. “better leave me bleeding.”
you smile at him when he says that.
not a smirk, not a tease. a real smile.
it nearly rips his heart down the center.
“yes, Bucky,” you breathe, and he doesn’t wait another second as he leans into you, lining himself up with your weeping entrance, begging for him to find his home inside you.
within seconds, he’s addicted. addicted to the way you feel, the way you sound, the way you look taking his cock so well.
“pussy’s so tight, doll,” he moans, his New York accent growing thicker with each word. “sure you can handle me?”
“jus— just, please,” you begin to beg as he continues to sheath himself inside you.
“aww, you going dumb on my cock, princess?” he taunts. “you like letting me fuck you stupid?”
you fail to respond with words, your head falling back against the pillow beneath you as your jaw drops open. he’s finally fully inside you, filling you beyond what you ever thought imaginable.
“look at ya. such a perfect little princess for me,” he blabbers as his mouth begins running away from him. his hips start to move against yours, slow and shallow thrusts quickly giving way to rougher movements more like you’ve been waiting for. “such a sweet pussy you’ve got. fucking unbelievable… been waiting for the day you’d let me fuck you, princess. gonna let me have you again? you gonna tell me the next time you need fucked, let me take care of ya?”
“yes, yes, yes,” you begin moaning in tandem with each of his movements.
“can you say my name real pretty, sweetheart?” he requests. he watches your face, monitoring every little reaction he manages to push out of you as his hips rut against yours.
“Bucky,” you moan.
“who’s giving it to you real good?”
“Bucky, please,” you whine, pleading with him.
he knows what you want. he knows he should tease you some more, get you to beg some more. whatever you say in the heat of the moment is just that; the heat of the moment. whether you’re ever going to deign to let him touch you ever again, he’s not sure. he should drag this moment out as much as possible.
but he can’t possibly deny you, his sweet little princess, any longer. even if that means it’s over for good.
“alright, go ahead,” he says, his voice suddenly softening as he presses his thumb to your clit once more. “whenever you’re ready, princess.”
just as he expected, it’s the sweetest sight. your swollen red lips parting, your eyes rolling back in your head, all while your cunt squeezes the life out of him and your heels dig deep into his back.
good girl, he says to himself, listening so well.
the orgasm you have on his cock is blinding. every muscle in your body contracts and releases as you ride out your pleasure, his body unable to hold back anymore as his own orgasm follows. the warmth of his release fills your belly as you begin to come down from the high.
he wants nothing more than to collapse on top of you, to wrap his arms around you and hold you tight. as though he could ever call you his.
but he’s not worthy of that, just as he’s not worthy of you.
he never will be.
so instead, he pushes himself away from you and lies down beside you in the sheets of your hotel room that you’ve so graciously invited him into. you don’t waste any time before standing, kicking off your shoes and walking to the table on the other side of the room to pick up your phone, staring down at the screen and not looking back at him once.
“thank you, princess,” he murmurs as he stares at you with the same intensity of which you stare at your phone.
“you don’t need to thank me, Bucky,” you scoff, and yet you still don’t look up at him.
he certainly feels the need to. he certainly feels the need to thank you, to show you his gratefulness for allowing him to have the chance to finally have you, even just once.
because the way you look at him once all is said and done, the same way you do when the sun is shining, reminds him of his place and reminds him that you’re more than he could ever deserve.
and yet, even still, when he looks at you?
when he thinks about how different everything could be, pondering living in an alternate universe where he did deserve you?
there’s nothing he’d change.
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