Bucky grunts something noncommittal and drops onto the opposite end of the couch. He’s fresh from a shower, hair damp and pushed back, wearing gray sweats and a black Henley that stretches across his shoulders. He smells like clean soap and something warm and distinctly him.

You hum in acknowledgment, keep scrolling.

It’s less than three minutes before you glance over and realize his head has tipped back against the cushions, mouth parted slightly, breathing slow and even.

You blink.

“Barnes?”

No response.

You lean closer. He’s out cold.

You stare at him for a second, then snort quietly to yourself. He had been tense when he walked in, shoulders tight like piano wire. Now he looks… soft. Younger. Peaceful in a way you don’t get to see often.

You slide the blanket off your legs and drape it over him instead.

The next night it happens again.

And the next.

It becomes a pattern so quickly it’s almost ridiculous. You’re in the kitchen, leaning against the counter while he nurses a cup of tea? He’s asleep at the table before it cools. You’re on the training mats stretching after a workout? He sits down “just for a minute” and is snoring softly within five. You’re on the Quinjet, shoulder brushing his, and he’s gone before takeoff.

The first time Sam notices, he nearly chokes on his drink.

“Man,” he says slowly, eyes bouncing between you and the unconscious super soldier slumped in his chair, “I have never seen him do that.”

“What?” you ask innocently.

“Sleep. Like that.”

You glance at Bucky. He’s folded in on himself in one of the common room armchairs, chin tucked to his chest, looking so deeply asleep it borders on absurd.

“Maybe he’s tired,” you shrug.

“Uh-huh,” Sam says, squinting.

Natasha catches on next.

She tests it.

One evening, she corners Bucky in the kitchen while you’re still in the gym. She talks to him about mission reports, about old Hydra intel, about nothing at all. She even sits him down on the couch and lowers her voice to that smooth, soothing cadence she uses on frightened witnesses.

He doesn’t so much as yawn.

You walk in ten minutes later, towel around your neck, cheeks flushed from sparring.

“Hey,” you say, smiling when you see them.

Bucky looks up at the sound of your voice.

And promptly passes out mid-sentence.

Natasha stares at him.

Then at you.

“Oh,” she breathes.

Within a week it’s a full-blown investigation.

Clint tries keeping Bucky company in the rec room. Steve insists on staying up with him one night to “see what’s going on.” Sam even suggests it might be some weird delayed serum side effect.

Nothing.

Bucky stays stubbornly, frustratingly awake with everyone else.

But the second you’re alone with him?

Lights out.

The breaking point comes during movie night.

The whole team is sprawled across the couches. Bucky is sitting ramrod straight on one end, clearly determined to prove a point. He even says as much.

“I’m not tired,” he mutters, jaw tight.

You bite your lip to keep from smiling and sit beside him anyway. Not touching. Just close enough that your knees almost brush.

The movie starts.

Thirty seconds later, his head tips sideways.

And lands squarely on your shoulder.

The room erupts.

Sam howls. Clint actually applauds. Natasha hides her smirk behind her hand. Even Steve’s lips twitch.

Bucky jerks upright, horrified. “I wasn’t— I didn’t—”

“You were snoring,” Sam informs him gleefully.

“I was not!”

“You absolutely were,” Clint says. “Like a tiny chainsaw.”

You’re laughing now, warmth blooming in your chest as Bucky’s ears turn pink.

“It’s not funny,” he grumbles, refusing to look at you.

It is funny.

But it’s also… something else.

Because you’ve started to notice the details. The way his breathing evens out almost immediately when you’re near. The way his shoulders drop. The way the constant, subtle vigilance that hums beneath his skin finally goes quiet.

It hits you one evening when it’s just the two of you in your room.

He hadn’t meant to come in. He was pacing the hall after a nightmare, trying not to wake anyone. You’d opened your door at the sound of his footsteps.

“You okay?” you’d asked softly.

He hesitated.

Then nodded, once.

“C’mere,” you’d said, stepping aside.

He perches on the edge of your bed like he’s afraid it might bite him. You sit cross-legged across from him, close but not touching.

“You don’t have to stay,” he says roughly.

“I know.”

You talk about nothing. About the new recruits. About a recipe Sam ruined. About the weather.

His eyelids start to droop.

You watch it happen in real time.

“Buck,” you murmur gently.

He blinks at you, trying to fight it.

“You’re safe,” you tell him, because you think maybe that’s the key. “You can sleep.”

It’s like someone flips a switch.

He sways once.

Then slumps forward, forehead pressing lightly against your shoulder as he goes completely limp.

You freeze for a second.

Then slowly, carefully, you ease him down against your pillows and pull the comforter over him.

He doesn’t stir.

The next morning, the team finds him there.

In your bed.

Still asleep.

Sam leans against the doorway, grinning. “Well. Mystery solved.”

Bucky groans and buries his face in your pillow. “Kill me.”

You just smile, brushing your fingers gently through his hair.

“Or,” you say sweetly, “you could just start sleeping in here.”

His eyes flick up to yours, wary but hopeful.

“You serious?”

“Seems like you only sleep when I’m around,” you shrug. “Might as well get a full night out of it.”

There’s a beat.

Then, slowly, shyly, he nods.

The team never lets him live it down.

But that night—and every night after—Bucky falls asleep within minutes of you climbing into bed beside him.

he doesn't knock. not anymore. not with how close the two of you have gotten. you still whine when he catches you half-dressed, embarrassment written all over your face when you pull the fabric over your body. you'll bitch at him asking for a little privacy and he would just laugh.

privacy? under his roof? don't be absurd.

now, he twists your doorknob and pushes the door to your room in, letting the hallway light spill into your dark room.

and there you are. sleeping so sweetly on your bed, hands tucked under your cheek as you snuggle deeper into your pillow. bucky feels his cock stir in his pants, an instinctual reaction trained within him at the sight of you.

moonlight leaks through the window and brightens the features on your face. the way your lashes brush against your cheeks. the slope of your nose. the shape of your lips—

fuck, bucky's cock twitches again with need. he can't wait to push his length between those plump lips, watch you take him in greedily. he wants to watch tears roll down your face as you choke on him.

he closes the door behind him and sits on the edge of your bed. his fingers reach out to brush the hair away from your face.

pretty girl. he really did such a good job with you — raising you, training you. now he has his little girl all to himself.

bucky shifts his attention down to where your t-shirt has ridden up, giving him a glimpse of those pretty white lace panties that sit so nicely on your hips. he can practically see the shape of your folds with how the fabric digs into your slit.

he pushes the fabric up higher to reveal your perfect tits, his hand reaching out to grope them slowly. gentle enough that he doesn't wake you, but firm enough that your sleep-addled face crinkles in confusion.

leaning down, he mouths at your nipple, rolling it between his teeth, circling it with his tongue. you squirm underneath him, your hands flying up to defend yourself but bucky moves faster, his hands pinning your wrists down to the bed.

when he pulls away, there's a string of saliva that connects him to you. he smiles at how your tits now glisten underneath the cool light.

then he moves down, settling on his front between your legs where he spreads them open. he nuzzles his face into your clothed cunt, breathing in that delectable scent that he's grown addicted to. his daughter really does have the sweetest pussy.

his tongue drags up over the lace and your legs instinctively clamp down around his face. it's cute how you still try to resist him even in your sleep.

but bucky has always been stronger and bigger than you, so he easily pries your legs open again and flattens his tongue along the cloth. a shiver wracks through you as a moan slips out.

his lips curl into a smile. even in sleep, you can't deny how much you want this. how much you want him.

he drags the gusset of your panties off to the side and begins eagerly licking your sweet pussy. you're dripping nectar onto his tongue, wriggling on the bed like you're trying to push your pussy onto his face. his tongue slides into your cunt as his thumb finds the sensitive bundle of your clit.

his eyes are trained on you, the scrunch of your face, the parting of your lips. you look so pretty taking his tongue like this.

when bucky eases a finger in, your cunt clenching down around him with a vice grip, you finally let out a gasp as your eyes flutter open. you're still in a daze, half awake as you see the shadowed figure between your legs.

bucky sees you panic for a moment before your shoulders slump.

"dad! what are you doing in here?" you whisper, brows puckering into a frown.

"i had to get my dessert, sweet girl."

your throat moves as you swallow, guilt wiring itself across your features. "it's valentine's day. mom is—"

"mom is asleep, don't worry," he coos as he curls a finger inside you, dragging a whine from your chest. "i gave her so much wine at dinner. she had nothing to complain about. she's out like the light."

you bite down on your bottom lip as your eyes trace his face. how his stubble gleams in the subtle lighting with your juices, how he licks his lips to taste you on his mouth.

"did you miss me?"

"no," you answer a little too quickly.

the corners of his lips tug up into a smirk. "were you jealous i didn't take you out for valentine's day instead?"

"no," you say swiftly again, but the slight pout on your lips says otherwise.

bucky sidles up next to you, keeping a finger buried in your cunt as he pushes another one in. your eyes widen, mouth opening in a choked gasp.

"i'm here with you, aren't i, sweetheart? i can't let my baby girl feel neglected. what can i do to make it up to you?"

"i wasn't jealous!" you try to deny again. "why would i be jealous? she's your— she's your wife."

he bumps his nose against your cheek, nudging your head to the side as his lips cling onto your neck. he suckles on the delicate skin slowly, hoping this ache would leave a print that'll remind you who you belong to. who he belongs to.

"and you're my daughter, my favorite girl."

your eyes flutter, softening just a tad with his words.

"i'm not spending tonight with her. i'm all yours tonight, sweetheart. isn't that what you want?"

your lips purse in resistance again as you shift your gaze away in a non-answer. bucky pushes his fingers a little deeper to pull your eyes back to him, your pupils dilating when you see the hunger in his eyes.

he's been waiting for this all night. sitting across his wife, listening to her talk about his day. while he loves her dearly, all he could think about was you. you with your legs spread, you with those gorgeous moans spilling from your lips. you with how easily you melt and cave into his touch. months of touching you to be the perfect little girl for him.

"hm? answer me."

"yes," you whimper, your fingers finally finding the collar of his shirt to drag him forward again. "want you."

"want who?"

bucky watches as you gulp again. "want you, dad," you whisper.

his cock is straining against the seams of his pants, demanding to be freed. he pulls his fingers out of you, sticking them into his mouth to taste you again.

"that's my good girl. tell me how much you want your old man. how much you want your dad to touch you."

"dad, that's so embarrassing," you huff, heat sinking into your cheeks.

"come on, be good for me. tell me you want me. tell me what you want from me."

you're still being stubborn. it's bucky's fault really that he's spoiled you so much — or perhaps not enough that you can't even ask for what you want. he reaches up and grazes his thumb along you bottom lip, watches that ice chip away from your gaze.

"be my good girl. come on."

with only another heartbeat of hesitation, you finally say quietly, "i want you, dad."

"what do you want from me?"

your cheeks warm again. "i want you to fuck me."

bucky has never felt luckier. he positions himself above you, frees his cock from his pants as he pushes your legs back as he folds into you. your ankles hover above your head as bucky teases his cock at your entrance.

"my sweet girl. raised you so well, sweetheart. raised you to be the perfect pussy for me."

a surprised sound falls from your lips with his words. your legs threatening to close again.

bucky pushes in, slowly at first to test how wet you are, only to sink himself down to the hilt. "so fuckin' wet for me, sweetheart. have you been thinking about this all night? thinking about your dad using your cunt like this?"

you moan as you feel him stretch you out, pussy tightening in a vice grip around him, while at the same time desperately sucking him in.

"i couldn't stop picturing what it would be like to take you out for dinner instead. you and me. kiss you across that dinner table. take you to the bathroom and fill up this pussy. i want my cum dripping down your legs when you walk back to the table. i want everyone in that room to know how fucking good i fuck you."

"dad, oh god, please—"

"just like that. want you to call me dad too," he grins as he thrusts in and out of you. his cock leaves a delicious burn between your legs, your stomach flips as he presses down deeper against you. "i want everyone to know that your dad takes real good care of you. probably show you more love than a dad should."

bucky feels you squeeze around him again, the heat that engulfs his cock — now slick with your juices — is mind-numbingly good. he can't get enough of your pussy. he loves how good his daughter's cunt feels around his cock.

the thought of him once again fucking his own daughter has him plunging in particularly hard and fast, yanking a loud yelp from your chest.

your hands immediately rise to cover your lips, but bucky grabs them, pins them down next to your head as he continues rutting his hips against you.

"no, dad, i can't— i can't be quiet."

oh, he knows. he adores how loud you are. he loves hearing your moans bounce off the walls of this house when he fucks you stupid until you're crying around his cock. begging him dad, dad, please let me cum.

"you can be as loud as you want, sweetheart. your mom won't wake up."

"you don't know that," you hiss but another moan wrenches from your throat, surely loud enough to carry through the walls.

you press your lips shut as if the act itself would stop you from making any noise, but bucky's determined. he fucks into you harder and faster, driving into your cunt until he can feel his tip touch the deepest parts of you.

"gave her enough wine, sweetheart. made sure she won't wake up. i needed to fuck my daughter properly, i can't have her mom interrupting."

his words draw out another moan from your lips.

"give it to me, baby. let me know how good i make you feel. let me know how good my dad cock feels inside your tight cunt."

and you're nothing if not obedient. whines and whimpers slip past your lips as bucky slows down his pace, deliberately dragging out that desperate hunger within you. you try to close your legs, tighten your pussy to keep him inside.

but your dad knows exactly how to make you suffer.

"dad, fuck, please. you're being mean."

"mean? when i'm giving it to you so good?" he barks out a laugh. "how am i mean when i've got you leaking all over my cock?"

"you're dragging this out! and after— after today!"

"today?" he hums with feigned innocence. "were you jealous that i spent today with your mom instead of you? i already told you. you're my favorite girl. dad loves your pussy the most, baby. that's why i'm here fucking you," he folds you tighter to press his lips against yours, "fucking you and not my wife."

you curse again as bucky begins to fuck into you more earnestly. he drinks in every moan, every pleasured groan that bubbles up your throat.

"please, please," you beg into the air, fighting against his strong grip around your wrists. "please."

he knows exactly what you're asking for. it's the same plea he loves to hear you say out loud. the kind of begging that has his balls tightening up as he fills your sweet pussy.

"please what?"

"you know what!" you cry out.

such a brat. his mouth curls into a smirk. "i need your words, baby. can you use your words for me?"

any other time, his patronizing tone would send you running. but when you're underneath him like this, when your orgasm is in his hands, you have no choice but to comply.

bucky observes as your eyes soften, melting into a desperate look that tugs at his heartstrings. his baby girl soft and needy underneath him.

"dad, please, can i cum?"

he nearly cums inside you then and there. but he holds himself back. instead, he begins to fuck into you harder and faster, going at a pace that he knows you like when you're this close. your eyes roll to the back of your head as gasps choke out your lungs.

"my girl. my favorite girl. tell me you want my cum."

"i-i want your cum please."

"call me dad. come on. say it."

"d-dad, please. i want your cum. i want you to cum inside me."

and bucky knows how to get you and him across that line. he lets the filthy words fall from his mouth.

"that's right, sweetheart. i've got you in this mating press already, i'm gonna cum in you. gonna fill you up. i'm gonna make sure it sticks. gonna breed you so good, honey."

"fuck, look at you crying around your dad's cock like this. better hope your mom doesn't wake up. she'll see her husband creaming in her daughter."

"but you'd love that. you want me all to yourself. you want me to knock you up so i can keep you here forever. you want that, don't you? you want dad's babies?"

you're babbling incoherently at this point, brain turned to mush with your sole focus being how fucking good your dad's cock feels inside you.

with your final cry of yes, you cum around him. your pussy tightens and squeezes around his cock. the friction is almost painful at that point but bucky soon spills inside you, painting your insides with a white to purify his sins.

his hips stutter with the movements. the pain and desire he's been holding onto all night finally released inside you.

inside his perfect little girl and her perfect little pussy.

your chest rises with truncated breaths as you look up at him, eyes shining.

he smiles down at you as he feels his cum trickle out of you. "happy valentine's day, baby."

a/n: i think it's my first time writing more so from bucky's perspective. this was fun. all the sick mechanisms in his mind. happy valentine's day all! this was a quick treat i wrote up between requests. if you enjoyed this, please like/reblog/comment. kisses! — divider by @/pixopix

"go to your room!"

"i'm already going there!"

your bedroom door slams behind you just as you hear your mom tell bucky to calm down and take it easy on you. you snort to yourself. bucky takes it too easy on you most of the time, mainly because he likes when you're obedient with him.

and if he's being mean then you certainly aren't being nice to him.

however, your luck may have run its course when you hear your bedroom door creak open. your head lifts to find bucky at your door, his face is flushed red but his eyes are cool as they regard you.

goosebumps pebble your skin at the look in his eyes. "dad—"

"don't."

your mouth clamps shut on instinct.

"on the bed. lie down face up. head towards me."

bucky harrows in on you with a look so sharp that you have no choice but to comply. you lay yourself down on the bed, waiting patiently.

"arms up."

you quietly do as you're told then feel him yank you roughly, tugging you further up until your head is dipped down on the edge of the bed, your eyes face to face with his pants.

his pants that are tented up with his hardening erection. your mouth salivates on instinct, like you've been trained to grow eager at the sight.

he pulls out ropes from his pockets and loops them around your wrists and the bedposts at the foot of your bed. "dad, please," you plead quietly, "i'm sorry. i take it back. i'm sorry, please. i'll listen."

"too late for that, kid."

kid. he hasn't called you that in, well, forever. lately, it's always been honey or sweetheart. sometimes you're lucky and he calls you his sweet baby girl.

but it's never just kid. not anymore. not after everything.

your heart sinks to your stomach as you grow quiet.

then you hear his belt buckle clink and you tilt your head back to see him pulling his cock out. your blood runs cold. he can't be serious. he ties you up and expects you to what? service him?

your irritation returns in full force. "no way in hell."

"open your mouth."

"no."

"not gonna ask again, kid."

there's that nickname again. you bristle at the thought, pressing your lips close tight into a thin line.

he bends down to hook his fingers around your jaw. his thumb slips between your lips, prying your mouth open. before you can even get a protest out, bucky tilts his hips and shoves his cock into your mouth.

it hits the back of your throat, resulting in a gag that waters your eyes.

"that's right," bucky groans. "this is where you belong. this is exactly where you're supposed to be."

he doesn't allow you time to respond, instead bucking his hips forward. with you splayed out on the bed and going absolutely nowhere, you're forced to keep your jaw locked open to take in his length. his cock is heavy on your tongue, the smell a familiar kind of musky that has you squeezing your legs together.

"see, isn't this better? this mouth only has one purpose and that is for me to use it as a cocksleeve. keep me warm and snug."

you toss a glare his way which he pointedly ignores.

"come on, sweetheart. i'm going to train this pretty throat to take all of my cock. every time you think about talking back to me, i want you to picture my cock buried deep down this tight little mouth pussy."

oh god. your traitorous mouth releases a whimper at his words.

"you like that, don't you? your old dad treating you like nothing more than a sleeve. a little cockwarmer. that's what i raised you to be, honey."

you can't help yourself. he's back to being sweet on you, even when he's spewing out the most ridiculous things. you can't help the heat that pools in your belly, the liquid that leaks down your legs.

"my baby girl. raised you so well. i'm gonna make sure this throat is shaped to my cock. never gonna take anyone else in this mouth again. never going to use it to talk back to your dad ever again."

all you manage is a whine as your tongue eagerly swipes the underside of his cock, his balls press against your nose when he fucks in deeper. you choke on the length again, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, but bucky doesn't seem to care.

he has his eyes closed in pure ecstasy as he grinds his dick into your mouth.

"loosen up that throat, sweetheart. just relax. dad's going to mold you to fit my cock. this pretty little mouth is finally going to have a proper purpose. gonna shoot cum down your throat, do you want that?"

you gurgle around his cock and bucky pulls out with a pop and a hiss from between his teeth.

"need to hear you say it, honey."

"i want you to shoot cum down my throat," you rasp.

bucky cocks an eyebrow.

your face crinkles desperately. "please, dad, i want you to shoot your cum down my throat."

"yeah? you gonna be a good girl and swallow all of it?"

you nod, head aching in this position but you're drunk on his scent, on his taste. all you want is his cock back in your mouth.

bucky slowly slides his cock back in and you relax your lips to wrap it completely around him, to take him in even deeper. bucky's hands take your face as he begins to fuck straight into it, his cock reaching the deepest parts of your throat that has you crying around his fat length.

"that's a good girl. dad's going to cum in this pretty mouth. going to paint your insides. need you to swallow every last drop." his hips stutter and you know the telltale signs — his eyes squeezing shut, his hips bucking more erratically, and finally warmth.

cum spills onto your tongue in this bittersweet taste that coats every inch of your mouth. bucky watches in pure delight as you struggle to swallow in your position, choking a little bit.

you gasp for air when you finally gulp down the very last drop, head lolling against the edge of your mattress again.

bucky smiles down at you, brushing the hair away from your face.

"good job, sweetheart. next time you talk back to me again, remember that i'm going to keep training you until you become my perfect little cocksleeve."

a/n: requested by anon with "would you take into consideration dad! Bucky who takes grounding you a little seriously. when he said he’s sending you too your room, he means he’s tying you to the foot of the bed so you’re at just the right height to suck him off- after all how else will you learn not to talk back?" this has taken me an embarrassingly long time, i apologize. hope you enjoy anyway. if you do, please like/reblog/comment. kisses! — divider by @/chrisssiren

bucky, on the other hand, was glowing. beaming like a man who didn't have to jerk off into his own hand in silence anymore. he didn't even have to tell you anything.

steve noticed that even though you had someone else to take care of you along with him, you seemed needier, more insatiable than before.

the sleeping situation would usually be steve sleeping on his back, you tucked against his chest, leaned over the side of him, and bucky behind you, draped over you with one arm around your torso and the other one under your pillow.

you'd never shower alone once you asked bucky to stay.

steve would hop in the shower, wanting the hot water to soothe his muscles and not long after he’d feel your hands sneak around his waist, your nipples hard against his back as your hands roamed the plane of his torso and went lower and lower.

he’d groan when you wrapped a hand around him, stroking it lazily as the hot water splashed on him, shudders leaving his lips until he had enough and turned around.

he’d look down at your big, pretty eyes, water dripping from his hair and onto your cheeks as you smile delicately up at him.

steve’s big frame would crowd you onto the tile until he could grip the backs of your thighs and wrap them around him, hard cock between your folds rubbing up and down until he drove you as crazy as you drove him, until you’re begging him to fuck you.

sometimes bucky would be near, sometimes he’d be in the bathroom nonchalantly brushing his teeth, sometimes he’d walk in mid-fuck and undress and join you until you ran out of hot water.

you'd never be alone.

you'd lay on the couch with your legs on steve's lap, his hands absentmindedly rubbing up and down your calves, while bucky sat on the floor in front of you, letting you play with his hair.

bucky didn’t have to do much to move in, just brought his small collection of sweats and underwear and he was done.

steve would come home to you on the couch just in your underwear and bucky giving you a back massage and you’re in a different plane of existence bc it feels so good and “hey, sweetheart” and you just lift your head up barely to give him a kiss “hi stevie” and plop face down on the couch cushions again as bucky works your shoulders and steve chuckles and goes to the menu drawer to decide what to get for dinner.

bucky would be the easiest one of the two to rile up. you’d find yourself under him lazily and deeply making out as he ground his hips into yours more often than not.

they made good on steve’s promise. your pussy never went empty.

every time one of them was on a mission, you and the other would send him texts, pictures, videos, audio messages of the filth you’d get up to unsupervised.

and if both were gone? you wouldn’t be allowed to touch yourself for anything other than edging until they came back.