Project: Legacy
Pairing: ws!Buckyxbw!reader Tags: Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Black Widow Reader, n0n con, breeding program, rough sex, p in v, pregnancy discussion.
Summary: In which you're chosen to carry the future offspring of the Winter Soldier.
/an: i typed this in my notes app and posted it from a friends tablet so bear with me.
The Red Room supplied Hydra with a selection of young girls, subjects not yet sterilized, deliberately spared for the first time in the program’s history. To the Red Room, they were assets, to Hydra, they were potential breeding stock for an experiment that had been festering in their files for years.
In return for this carefully curated human inventory, Hydra granted the Red Room control of twelve new training facilities scattered across the harsh northern territories of Russia. Remote, quiet, and easily concealed, the centers were ideal for expanding the next generation of black widows.
Hydra’s interest, however, lay elsewhere. Their scientists had been obsessed, borderline fanatical, with a single unanswered question: what would become of a child born from the Winter Soldier? After years of failed attempts, classified simulations, and biological projections that led nowhere, they were willing to barter almost anything for the chance to find out.
Now, at last, they had the means. And the Red Room, ever pragmatic, had given them the pieces they needed to begin the experiment that Hydra had feared and desired in equal measure.
You changed into the clothes they gave you, the black satin dress whispering against your skin, and waited on the bed, your fingers drumming against your exposed thighs, each tap a reminder that something was coming, and you had no way to stop it.
The door creaked open, and a tall, muscular figure stepped inside, his presence filling the room with an intense aura. His icy blue eyes scanned the room before settling on you, sitting on the bed. He closed the door behind him with a soft click, his movements silent and precise.
You kept your head low, too scared to move even a muscle.
He walked closer, his boots clicking against the floor. You could smell the faint scent of blood and gunpowder on him, a reminder of the missions he had just returned from. His hand reached out and grabbed your chin gently but firmly, lifting your head up so that you were looking into his cold eyes.
“Hail Hydra.” you managed to mutter.
A small smirk played on his lips at your words, but his eyes remained cold and distant. “Hail Hydra.” he echoed, his voice low and rough from years of use. He released your chin and stepped back, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal the scars that covered his chest.
You moved your gaze away from his body.
“Eyes down.” he commanded softly, but there was a hint of something else in his tone, something that made you swallow hard. He dropped his shirt onto the bed beside you and began unbuckling his belt. “You know your purpose here?” he asked flatly.
“To serve my duty to this country, by giving my body to a greater good.” you whispered.
He paused, his hands freezing on his belt for a moment. You could feel his eyes on you, piercing through the darkness. “Good girl.” he murmured approvingly. He finished undressing, climbing onto the bed beside you. He was hot to the touch, his skin like fire.
His fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear, slowly pulling it down your legs. You bit your lip to silence any sound that might escape.
“Please…” you whispered. You didn’t know what you were begging for. The only thing in your head was how broken the girls looked after spending the night with him, how the ones who got pregnant disappeared in thin air.
“Shhh.” he hushed you, his voice surprisingly soft considering his reputation. Your underwear was gone now, and his large hand was resting on your bare hip possessively. “You’re scared.” he observed quietly. It wasn’t a question. You nodded. His thumb gently brushed against your hip bone, a surprisingly soothing gesture from such a dangerous man. “Of me?” he asked curiously, his head tilting to the side. His other hand slid up your side, stopping at your breast, but not squeezing or groping like you might expect. “Of the situation.” you whispered.
His eyes narrowed slightly at your response, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he shifted his weight, settling between your legs and pushing them apart with his knees. You could feel the hard evidence of his arousal pressing against your stomach through his boxers. He leaned down, his breath ghosting over your ear. “The situation is… necessary. It’s nothing personal.” “I know.” you muttered.
“Good.” he said softly, his lips brushing against your earlobe. His hands began to move again, this time more deliberately. He palmed your breasts gently before sliding his hands down your stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.
He hooked his fingers under the waistband of his boxers, preparing to take them off. “Mhm.” he hummed noncommittally, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, “Open your legs.” he commanded suddenly, his voice back to its usual cold tone. You hesitated for a moment before obeying, your thighs parting slightly.
He nodded in approval, his eyes flicking down to the space between your legs. He pushed his boxers down, freeing his erection. You could feel the tip brushing against your inner thigh as he positioned himself, “This won’t be pleasant.” he warned bluntly, “But it’s necessary.”
Without further warning, he thrusted inside you in one swift motion. You gasped sharply, your back arching involuntarily as he filled you completely. He didn’t give you a moment to adjust before he began moving. Hard, fast strokes that had nothing to do with pleasure and everything to do with efficiency.
He glanced down at you, his hips never stopping their punishing rhythm. “You think I enjoy this?” he scoffed, his voice strained, “Fucking some random girl in the middle of the night?” he shook his head sharply. “It’s a necessity. Nothing more.”
You sobbed against the pillow. He ignored your sobs, his movements becoming even more brutal. His hands gripped your thighs harshly, pulling them up around his waist as he pounded into you. He was trying to impregnate you, after all. The more brutal the better, according to Hydra’s logic.
Suddenly, he paused. He leaned down, his face inches from yours, “Stop crying.” he ordered sharply, his breath hot against your cheek. His hand moved from your thigh to cover your mouth, muffling any further sounds you might make, “I’m almost done, I swear.” he grunted through clenched teeth. You trembled under him.
Finally, with a final brutal thrust, he came inside you with a silent grunt, filling you with his seed. He collapsed on top of you briefly before pulling out immediately, his softened cock slipping out with a wet sound. You immediately curled into a ball, crying silently into the pillow.
He watched you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word or any semblance of tenderness, he rolled off you and stood up. You could hear him cleaning himself up in the bathroom before returning with a wet cloth. He roughly wiped between your legs without warning or gentleness. You whined in pain as he cleaned the overflowing load of cum and your blood.
“Lie still.” he snapped, his tone more annoyed than gentle despite the intimate act. Once he was done, he tossed the cloth aside and began putting his clothes back on silently. You stayed curled up on the bed, feeling used and violated despite knowing this was your duty.
“It’s not personal.” he said suddenly, breaking the silence as he buttoned his shirt. His tone was matter-of-fact, almost indifferent, “You’re just… A means to an end. Hydra needs offspring from enhanced soldiers like me.” he paused, looking at you over his shoulder.
You stared back at him with broken eyes.
He held your gaze for a moment before looking away, his expression unchanging. “This has to happen every month until you’re pregnant.” he stated bluntly, “So get used to it.” With that cold statement, he walked out of the room, leaving you alone and broken in the bed.
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