isa💘.

“Right, Steve. S’where he’s kept at. Wait for Natasha and Tony before rushing in. Clint, you assume position far. Thor, wait for instruction by the left wing.” You enforced. They all fell in line with a word. Clint hid in the shadows, Steve awaited Natasha and Tony, and Thor braced by the left wing.

“Go! Sam has the electricity disabled. Cameras are off, nows your time.” You instruct flawlessly. Steve, Tony, Natasha, and Thor burst into Bucky’s holding place.

They break him free. He stumbles, his words slurring between broken English and Russian.

“кто ты? (who are you?) Fuck—Steve? Они меня убьют. (they’ll kill me) Why—“ Bucky slurs, his mind rattling within itself as Steve releases him from his chains. He grunts as Natasha begins spewing words at him.

“Идите за нами. Доверьтесь мне. Вы в безопасности.” (Follow us. Trust me. You’re safe.) Natasha grumbles firmly. Bucky nods, his eyes darting as they rush out of the base.

Liquid chills run up your spine at Bucky’s gravelly words. His Russian making you sit up straighter subconsciously. Wrong time, your brain chides to yourself.

“T-take a left and climb through the escape way above you. Coast is clear to the jet.” You continue to all of the avengers, your voice shaking for the first time ever on a mission.

“Who s’that?” Bucky’s brows furrow. He hesitates following them when no one answers. Tony sighs, clearly having no interest in speaking to Bucky.

“Just a comms lady. She’s the reason we aren't dead and you are walking.” Tony clips impatiently. You smile from the jet.

“Just a comms lady? I thought we were more than that, Stark.” You practically grin. Tony’s lips turn upwards for the first time this mission and you feel accomplished by it.

When the team barges into the jet, you can freely turn off your headset. You crack your neck and finally look at Bucky.

Your breath catches despite the moment. His eyes are almost glassy, his hair tangled, and his clothes slightly torn.

Bucky’s eyes lock onto yours immediately.

“Steve. кто это?” (Who is that?) Bucky begins to thrash in Steve’s hold. Steve curses and your eyes widen and your breath quickens at his abrupt movement.

Despite yourself, your thighs tighten and Bucky’s nostrils flare.

“Its okay, Buck. Calm down.” Steve soothes. Bucky pants, his large chest rising and fall as Steve rushes him to the back of the jet.

He’s as tall as Steve. Beefier than him, too. His eyes keep darting between everyone on the jet.

That was your first interaction with Bucky Barnes.

After that, your love simply blossomed. It had to be slow for Bucky. You never held that against him though. It took nightmares, therapy, comfort, and sweet whispers, but Bucky had finally grown comfortable in his own skin. And cocky too.

Bucky’s Russian only came out when it has to. Its abrupt, and you’re never prepared when he uses it.

You and Bucky are taking a walk on a secluded nature trail he loves so much. You hum as the two of you walk, chatting his ear off about anything and everything.

Suddenly, a man taps Bucky on the shoulder. He goes rigid.

“Извините, сэр. В какой стороне старт? Я заблудился.” (Excuse me, sir. Which way is towards the start? I’m lost.) He’s an older man, slightly hunched over as he asks the question. His cheeks are worn in from smiling so much.

Bucky smiles kindly, his shoulders relaxing at the mans simple question.

“Да. Поверните направо, когда увидите большой дуб.” (Yes. Take a right when you see the big oak tree.) Bucky hums thoughtfully, turning on his ‘civilian voice’. Bucky points to the big oak tree, his metal arm gleaming in the light. The man doesn’t seem to care as he mumbles a ‘thank you’.

A moment passes when you and Bucky continues on a trail. His eyebrows furrow as he notices your sudden silence.

“What’s on y’mind, sweetheart?” Bucky hums. You’re absentmindedly chewing on your bottom lip, clearly oblivious to his comment.

Bucky tilts his head towards you.

“Doll?” He states clearly. You blink and look up at him. Bucky’s mind runs a million miles at your sudden change.

“Huh?” You chirp, your voice low. You try to conceal your arousal, knowing his senses will smell or see your change. You go quiet instead.

“You okay?” He repeats, his eyes puzzling into yours. You’ve never gone quiet like that. Especially not with him.

“Mhm.” You murmur back easily, turning back to look at the trail. Bucky hums and follows suit. His metal arm flexes, reminding him of how he knows Russian.

Suddenly, he’s assuming. Maybe you don’t like his russian because he learned it in Hydra. Or maybe you don’t like Russian in general. But Natasha speaks it all the time? And you never mind. So what is it? Is it just him? Is it the Winter Soldier? His mind races.

The rest of the walk is silent. Both of you quiet for different reasons.

After that, Bucky tried his best not to speak russian around you.

He thinks he’s being respectful. Clearly, you’re not a big fan, and he would never want to make you uncomfortable. So he stops altogether.

Thats why, months later, he’s shocked when you suggest a russian restaurant.

The two of you are lounging on the couch together, his head in your lap as you comb through his hair. Your nails brush his scalp and he resists the urge to shudder. You finally hum as you turn off your phone.

“I want food.” You announce to Bucky. He grunts against your thigh, his eyes already heavily lidded from your intoxicating massage.

“Doordine it.” Bucky grumbles back, his voice muffled against you. You giggle at his old-man pronunciation of ‘Doordash’.

“M’cant. Want something local. Maybe Babushka’s?” You suggest, your voice going higher at the name. You only recommended the restaurant because it served russian food. You had grown desperate to hear his thick accent again.

Bucky finally lifts his head to meet your gaze. His eyebrows are furrowed as he gives you a puzzling look.

“Russian food?” He clarifies. You nod, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. Bucky groans, burying his head back into your lap.

You roll your eyes, stubbornly not continuing his scalp massage.

“You’re gonna have to order, James.” You remind. He hums, lifting his head back up as he registers your seriousness.

“‘Right. Give me the damn phone.” He grunts, pressing your phone to his ear as he calls Babushka’s.

“Здравствуйте, это Бабушка — чем мы можем вам помочь? (hi, this is babushka’s what can we do for you?) A woman from the other line chirped professionally in his ear. Bucky’s eyes dart back to yours, scanning your reaction as he hesitates responding.

”Да, можно заказать бефстроганов на двоих?” (yes, can i order a beef stroganoff for two?) Bucky responded. You resisted the temptation to press your thighs together as you watched him order. You could feel Bucky researching your body language, trying to conceal your arousal at a simple dinner order.

“Конечно. Что-нибудь еще?” (Of course. Anything else?) The lady hummed. Bucky gave a simple ‘no’ and the address to your apartment.

After he hung up, he handed your phone back and chuckled as he looked you up and down.

“Why russian food, sweetheart?” He asked. You shrugged your shoulders. He chewed on the inside of his cheek before pulling you into his lap.

You didn’t say anything as you tensed against his chest. Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed again. What is it thats bothering you?

“You’re all quiet again.” He noticed. You simply laughed it off, burying your head in the crook of Bucky’s neck to conceal your blush.

“Just wanted to try the food.” You reasoned, your voice low and monotone. Bucky dropped the subject, cradling you into his chest as his mind played games with him again.

The final straw came months later. Tony proposes an undercover mission against the Bratva.

Obviously, Bucky and Natasha are forced into the ‘married’ role for the mission. Newly wedded, honeymoon phase, husband and wife. Your jaw ticks slightly at the announcement, but you maintain professionalism.

Also, you get to hear Bucky speak russian, so thats a plus.

“Approach the poker table on the far left in the back. Ask to join them. If you play well enough they’ll take you to the higher tier table where Sergei Mikhailov plays. He’s the target.” You state cooly over the comms, watching Natasha and Bucky’s every move.

Bucky is leading Natasha through the casino with poise. His hand rests politely on her lower back, guiding her through the crowd.

“You have eyes. Everyone’s watching your entrance. Act lovey dovey.” You instruct. Bucky leans into Natasha, acting as if he’s whispering something dirty. Natasha gives a fake gasp before giggling.

They finally find their way to the lower-tier poker table.

“Не возражаете, если мы к вам присоединимся?” (Mind if we join you?) Bucky rasps to the table. Many of the mob workers have their own lady draped over them, so naturally, all of the women eagerly nod their heads.

You practically melt in your seat. But you remain focused.

One man grunts, clearly the higher rank out of everyone at the table.

“Без проблем. Мы подключим вас к игре после этого.” (No problem. We’ll deal you in after this.) The man mumbles, clearly skeptical. Bucky simply nods as he takes a seat, pulling Natasha onto his lap.

Her back is to his chest as she sits stiffly on top of him. The women look between each other, sharing a silent conversation.

“Relax, Nat. Melt into him. You’re newly weds, turn it up a notch.” You remind. Natasha takes a deep breath before relaxing against Bucky.

Bucky’s hands bracket Natasha against him as he begins playing poker. Conversation begins flowing amongst the table, and it is now about personality before anything.

“Расскажите нам о вас двоих. Как вы познакомились?” (tell us about you two. how’d you meet) One lady asks Natasha. She’s draped over her husband’s shoulder, standing as to cater to his every need.

Natasha smiles before turning in Bucky’s lap to thread through his well styled hair. He grins up at her as he raises the bet for the table.

“Всё началось на вечеринке у друзей. Мы встретились взглядами через всю комнату, он купил мне выпить, мы потанцевали, а потом он просто не мог оторвать от меня рук!” (It all started at one of our friends parties. We made eye contact across the room, he bought me a drink, we danced, and then he couldn't keep his hands off of me!) Natasha exclaimed excitedly. Bucky nodded, smiling against her cheek as he placed a kiss to her skin.

All of the ladies gawked over them, easily impressed by the display.

“Помню, когда мы с Михаилом были такими же. Совсем молодыми и безрассудными. А теперь он только и делает, что играет в покер.” (I remember when Mikhail and I were like that. So young and foolish. Now all he does is play poker.) One of the women joke, also on her husband’s lap. The whole table laughs heartily at the joke.

As Natasha ‘passes the test’, their attention shifts to Bucky, who has been far too quiet and far too good at poker.

“Черт! Кто этот человек?” (fuck! who is this guy?) One of the men joked, although his frustration was only growing. All the men simply laughed in agreement.

Another round flew by the table. Bucky raised the bet, then revealed his full house. All of the men groaned as he won the pot.

Suddenly, the highest ranked man spoke up.

“Иди туда. Скажи им, что тебя прислал Михаил.” (you go over there. tell them mikhail sent you) He rumbled, ever the sore loser. All of the women pouted as Natasha got up to leave. All of the men thanked Mikhail as they now had a chance at winning.

Bucky guided Natasha to the higher table before stopping.

“Мистер и миссис Соколовы. Нас прислал Михаил.” (Mister and misses Sokolov. Mikhail sent us.) Bucky slurred. The men nodded, motioning for the two to sit. The atmosphere at this table was heavier. Bucky knew he’d have to wiggle his way in.

“They’re not convinced. You two need to turn it up with them.” You gritted through your comms. Bucky grunted, masking it as a bad hand in poker.

The table slowly began to open up for the two of them.

Bucky had won the pot, causing all the men to groan once more.

“Ещё по одной. За мой счёт.” (another round. on me.) Bucky called out to the bartender. The entire table cheered and suddenly he and Natasha were in.

As drinks poured, Bucky played the perfect role as the ‘drunken’ husband. He got worse at poker, and more handsy with Natasha.

She played the tipsy wife well. Playfully swatting at him and giggling at his compliments.

“Возможно, мне придется закончить пораньше. Моя жена ненасытна.” (I might have to end this early. my wife is insatiable.) Bucky teased, causing Natasha to act flustered for the table. The men chuckled at the two of them.

“Это ты взволнована, дорогая.” (you’re the one that’s excited, dear.) Natasha grinned back. She threaded her hands through his hair, placing sloppy kisses along his cheek. Bucky’s hands drifted around to her waist.

“Только не за столом, детка.” (Not at the table, baby.) Bucky winked back. Natasha laughed, burying her face in his neck. The men observed, clearly satisfied with the display.

”Мы поймем, если вам нужно уйти, Соколов.” (we understand if you need to leave, sokolov.) One of the men chirped, flashing Natasha a dark grin. She shivered but simply laughed it off.

“Да, все мы через это проходили.” (Yes, we’ve all been there.) Another man added. The table erupted in more hearty laughter.

“This is your cue. Leave now.” You remarked over the comms. Bucky gave a slight nod.

He folded his cards, mumbling something about the game before excusing him and Natasha. He walked the two of them back to their hotel room in style.

When the two were out of earshot, Bucky grinned, “How’d we do, sweetheart?” He asked, being met with radio silence. He furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully as he continued walking Natasha to their room.

You were dying. Your hands were shaking, your thighs were slick, and your arousal was through the roof. You breathed deeply, unable to speak to Bucky yet.

Were you jealous? Maybe, a little. You understood it’s a mission. But hearing him speak to Natasha like that had your heart twisting. And you didn’t even know russian!

On the other hand, hearing him speak like that was everything. Temptation and sin wrapped in a pretty package saying ‘open me!’.

“Very convincing.” You breathed. Bucky hummed, and before he could peer further you disconnected the comms. He grunted, peeling off his ear piece and discarding it.

Bucky was isolated from you for two days. He replayed the night over and over again. He focused on your breathing. Deep and heavy over the comms.

No way, right? Maybe you were just jealous. He was probably just going crazy from overthinking.

Bucky has grown irritated with you. You simply disconnect from him? No post-mission debrief? No ‘good job’s? You simple ignored him. And he was not going to let you off early.

When he returned to the compound, he beelined straight for your office. You had your own pristine space where you managed your comms and did your paperwork.

He knew you were still there, working. And he knew you heard he was back. And you didn’t come see him? No worries. He was coming to see you.

He bursts into your office, hastily shutting the door behind him. You hear the lock click and suddenly you’re on your feet.

Curses prepare themselves on your tongue. You turn, extending your finger as you anticipate lashing out at him for being reckless.

The words die in your throat as you see him.

He’s still in his tactical gear. Tight black compression shirt taunting you, highlighting his muscles. His tactical pants are no better. They cling jealously at his thighs before running baggy down his legs. You nearly grow envious before looking at his face.

Eye bags faintly decorate his under eye. His lips are slightly chapped, clearly missing your kisses and lip combo pressed against them. Finally his hair is disheveled, clearly ran through a few times as if he had been stressed.

Your fury has deflated, replaced by only burning passion.

“Why the fuck did you disconnect from me?” He pressed. Your fury suddenly came tumbling back into your mouth as you scoffed. He stepped forward, crowding you between your desk and his solid frame.

“Why does it matter?” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms against your chest. Bucky took a deep breath through his nostrils.

“Don’t play dumb, honey. It’s only cute when you’re under me.” He rasps, his mouth against your collarbone. You shiver, giving yourself away to his advances as you melt against him. He feels it. Of course he fucking does.

He grins against you, pressing sweet kisses that counter his previous words.

“Theres my girl. Talk to me, pretty. Why y’mad at me?” He mumbles. You attempt to rekindle your previous anger, but its pointless. His large hands wrap around the back of your thighs, lifting you up onto your desk and stepping between your legs.

“M’not mad.” You manage to say. Your breath catches as his hands travel down your body. You resist the urge to whine.

He maps out your body like he’s been gone for years. As if he’s familiar but also a man in the desert who’s found water.

”You jealous of Nat, sweetheart?” He hummed. When he puts it that way, it does sound dumb. You’re not jealous of her. You wanted to be her. In her position. Bucky speaking russian to you, in his lap, feeling you up.

”No.” You snapped quickly. Bucky’s steel blue eyes met yours, reading you like a book. Dots began connecting in his head like wildfire.

“You always act different with me when I speak russian. What is it, doll?” He continued. You chewed on your bottom lip. Your thighs instantly tried to clench, but Bucky was rooted between them.

He looked down, then back up, and then grinned knowingly. His nostrils flared, smelling you. You were caught.

“Тебе это нравится, детка. Хочешь, чтобы я так с тобой разговаривал?” (you like it, doll. you want me to talk to you like this?) Bucky grunts. His accent is thick and heavy. You practically whimper at his voice.

You try your best not to fold. To stand your ground. But it’s pointless. Bucky has you figured out.

His thumb lazily traces your pussy through your pants, making you whine as your hands cling to his shirt.

“Моя красавица. Вся такая хорошенькая и готовая для меня.” (my pretty girl. all nice and ready for me) He mumbles, almost to himself. His eyes study your reactions to his words. Your face is stubborn, trying to fight the pleasure he’s giving you after so long of craving it.

“Позволь мне доставить тебе удовольствие. Позволь мне взять своё.” (let me make you feel good. let me have it) He persuades. You huff, allowing him to pull off your clothes. You lift your hips for him.

Naked as he’s fully clothed. Your pussy practically drips onto your expensive desk. Bucky grins at the sight. He pulls you to the edge, resuming his position back between your legs as his fingers play with your pussy.

“Так мокро. Мы могли бы заняться этим раньше, упрямая девчонка.” (so wet. we could have been doing this sooner, stubborn girl) Bucky hums. Your fingers wrap around his neck, burying you face into his shirt.

“Please, James.” You fold. Your hips absentmindedly chase his teasing fingers. He has yet to properly insert a digit, and of course your growing impatient.

“Tell me you like my russian, doll. Tell me how badly it turns you on.” He prompts, his thumb rubbing your clit faintly, tempting your surrender.

You shudder, but shake your head against his chest. He practically pouts in your ear, speaking english to ensure you understand.

“You’re bein’ mean to her, honey. I was gonna be so sweet, but you’re bein’ a brat.” He tsks thoughtfully, referring to your pussy. You whine. You know that tone. That means you’ll be here for hours of condensation.

“Wait—m’sorry. I want you to make me feel good, Bucky.” You finally admit. Bucky grins, rewarding you with a digit. He grants you a few curls, hitting that spot you like before pausing.

“Paint a picture f’me.” He reiterated. You huff, knowing he wants you to admit your filthy thoughts regarding his russian.

You pant for a second, collecting your thoughts as Bucky litters your skin with opened mouth kisses.

“I-It started when we first met. On the jet. You had broken english and your eyes locked onto me as you spewed russian to Steve.” You explained, he hums against your throat, adding another flesh finger and swirling the two.

“I knew it was wrong, but after that i couldn't help myself. Made up countless little excuses jus’ to hear you speak. Would touch myself to your goddamn food order.” You laughed, breath exasperated. Bucky chuckled against you. You grunted, moaning as he hit your spot again.

“Would fantasize about you. You dirty talkin’ me while you put me in different positions for you.” You explained. Bucky groaned, and you knew it wouldn't be much longer till he made you cum.

“M’got jealous when you dirty talked Nat in your russian. Wanted it for s’long. Wanted you to be mean, or nice, or whatever to me like that.” You rambled on, your hips bucking against his fingers as you chased your high rapidly. Bucky grunted, meeting your mini-thrust.

”Надо её вознаградить. Сделай так, чтобы ей было по-настоящему хорошо — раз уж ты решил проявить доброту.” (gonna reward her. gonna be real good to her since you wanna be nice) Bucky approved. His thumb found your clit with intention. He brought you right to the edge.

He continued his ministrations just as he knew you liked. His fingers disappeared in and out of you tauntingly. You gasped, your eyes squeezing shut as your stomach twisted.

“Дай мне это, детка. (give it to me, doll) C’mon pretty girl.” He slurred between the two. You moaned, chasing your release. Finally, the coil in your stomach snapped as you came. You convulsed around him, holding him tight.

You panted as you rode out your high. Your mouth hung open with no noises escaping it. As Bucky worked you through your orgasm, you slowly came. down, practically shaking against him.

You breathed against his shirt, nuzzling her face against him as you caught your breath. Bucky fingers remained buried inside of you.

You whined as he slowly pulled them pit, bringing them up to his mouth. His eyes locked onto yours as he cleaned his fingers of your cum. Your breath hitched as he groaned whorishly.

”Она такая милая, детка. Если бы у меня не стоял так жестко, я бы уже был глубоко внутри нее.” (she’s so sweet, baby. if i wasnt so hard my face would be buried in her by now.) Bucky hummed pleasantly. You whimpered, already feeling yourself get wetter as Bucky’s filthy mouth found your ear.

“Мне нужно, чтобы ты сдавливала мне горло, милая. Хочу, чтобы ты вцепилась в меня мертвой хваткой прямо на своем столе.” (Need her choking me, sweetheart. Want you gripping me like a vice on your desk.) Bucky purred. You nodded deliriously, your hands clung to his shirt. You began to pull impatiently.

“Buck.” You whined. He chuckled, peeling away from you to peel off his shirts. You hummed thoughtfully. Your hands scaled him, pulling him back between you eagerly.

You mapped out familiar territory once more. You looked up to see Bucky’s dark eyes following your every move. You leaned against his muscles, kissing his exposed skin and marking him.

“Talk to me, James.” You pleaded. Bucky chuckled, his cock growing agonizingly hard as you used him to get you wet. He wasn’t complaining.

“Моя ревнивая девочка. Забирай своё. Оставь на мне свои следы, милая.” (my jealous girl. claim whats yours. mark me up, honey.) He encouraged. You hummed at his words, your hips absentmindedly twitching, craving him. However you were determined to take this slow, to drag out every filthy sentence he was withholding.

“Mhm.” You sighed contently. Your lips found his skin again, your teeth grazed him. His words stuttered as you placed kisses to the scar on his shoulder which concealed his metal arm.

“Ты всегда так добра ко мне. Хочу сделать тебя своей женой, детка. Чтобы ты всегда была сытой и счастливой.” (always so good to me. wanna make you my wife, doll. keep you stuffed full and happy all the time.) He slurred to you. You nodded against him, mindlessly agreeing to whatever he was saying. He grinned, his hands playfully squeezing your ass and pulling you forward against his bulge.

“You ready f’me?” He asked patiently. You nodded against him, opening your legs wider, teasing him with your pretty pussy.

He groaned, his fingers—metal and flesh—coming down to open your pussy lips. You gasp helplessly. As if you didn’t want this. He spit cruelly onto your hole, metal thumb rubbing it up and down your slick.

“Pretty lil’ princess. She drives me crazy, sweetheart. Makes me all fuzzy in the head.” He huffed. His eyes transfixed on your cunt, teasing him as you clench helplessly.

“Bucky. Need you. Hurry.” You begged. He hummed, as if he was considering you.

“Never been so compliant before, doll. Y’like it this much?” He grinned. You nodded desperately. When you realized Bucky was in no rush, your hand traveled to his clothed dick.

You began to rub him through his tactical pants. He groaned, head tilting back. His hips jutted helplessly into your hand and you smiled coyly.

“I said I need you.” You punctured each word carefully. Bucky huffed, a smile cracking despite your bratty attitude. He knows he wont punish you. At least not tonight.

“M’coming, honey.” He agreed. You smiled, giggling as you felt him twitch in his pants eagerly. He pulled back from you, tugging off his tactical gear, letting it clunk against your polished floors.

He let you take off his boxers. Your fingers dug into his skin, tugging them down tentatively. He sprung out, thick, hard, and heaving.

“Стоило бы перегнуть тебя через этот стол и заставить умолять меня. Но я не могу. Ты мне так нужна, милая.” (Should bend you over this desk and make you beg for me. But I can't. Need you so badly, sweetheart.) He groaned. He ran his tip up and down your slick, coating himself with you. His hand rested on your stomach. He eased you backwards til your back hit your desk.

Slowly, he pushed inside. His tip kissed your cervix and you whined desperately.

“Чувствуешь меня глубоко, красавица?” (feel me deep, pretty?) Bucky rasps. You whimper as he remains buried deeply within you. Your legs wrapped around his hips, heels digging into him and urging him forward.

“Move, Buck. Please. You’re drivin’ me craz—“ The wind was knocked out of your lungs when Bucky gave you a deep hard thrust. He set a punishing pace, your desk shaking beneath you as he gave you what you wanted.

“Чертова дрянь. Вечно получает то, что хочет.” (fucking brat. always getting what she wants) He grunted. His hips connected to yours with loud smacking that filled up the room.

You were a boneless mess beneath him, moans and noises spilling from you like a broken record as Bucky pulled your pleasure from you.

”Она такая узкая, детка. (she’s so tight, baby.) Jesus.” He moaned, his hips stuttering inside of you. Your own hand traveled upward, palming your breasts achingly.

Bucky grunted, instantly peeling your hand away to replace it with his mouth. Your hands flew to his hair, tugging at the locks as his tongue swirled around your nipple.

Bucky groaned against you, not breaking his rhythm as he switched breasts, leaving none to be neglected.

“Yeah. Bucky. Mhm. Making me feel s’good.” You praised. Bucky twitched inside of you. You grinned, fingers threading through his hair.

“My big bad soldiers gettin’ worked up, yeah? M’gonna cum because of you, Buck. Because of how good you’re fuckin’ me.” You continued. Bucky stuttered again, hitting that spongey spot deep within you. You gasped, instantly clamping down.

Bucky huffed, pulling back from your chest and using his metal thumb to rub your clit. The temperature difference was jarring, bringing you closer to the edge.

”Хочу этого, детка. Хочу, чтобы ты меня пропитала.” (want it, doll. want you to soak me.) He murmured. His voice was almost pleading, begging you to cum for him as he nodded repeatedly. Poor thing already pussy warped.

You moaned his name as you fell apart, clenching down on his disappearing length with ease. Bucky fucked you through your orgasm. His head fell, strong arms bracketing you on either side of your desk.

You rode out your orgasm in waves. Vision slightly white around the edges as you panted. Bucky was still moving. Slowly, sensually, deep guttural rolls of his hips until you were ready again.

“T-take it, Bucky. Take what y’need.” You breathed. Bucky’s eyes shot up to yours. Need painted his face like a waving flag. You nodded, confirming for him again.

His eyes found your pussy, watching him disappear in and out of you. He groaned and resumed his earlier pace.

Words began tumbling out of his mouth like prayer.

“G-gonna ruin this pussy. S’what you want? Want me to be mean and use her?” He panted, hips driving into yours with deliberate smacks. You moaned incoherently, making him chuckle.

“Ей нужно глубже, милая.” (she needs it deeper, sweetheart) Bucky decides. Suddenly two arms cradle the back of your knees, pushing them upwards until you’re in a mating press.

Your eyes shoot open, locked onto his face. He’s not looking at you, his eyes are molded to your pussy, watching the two of you. You meet his gaze and you groan. You let her head fall back again as your feet brush the back of his neck.

He breaks his staring contest with your cunt to kiss your ankle, eyes now finding yours.

”Сделаю тебя мамой. Вытащу тебя из этой грёбаной жизни.” (gonna make you a mommy. get you away from this fucking life.) Bucky curses, you whimper. He begins talking nonsense, babbling.

“Ты всегда такая сильная. Позволь мне позаботиться о моей красавице.” (you’re always so strong. let me take care of my pretty girl) Bucky rasps. You let out of a symphony of moans as his cock kisses your G spot, bullying your cervix over and over again.

”Я сделаю тебя своей женой. А потом ты у меня будешь вечно ходить босиком и беременной. И я буду обеспечивать тебе полное удовлетворение, когда буду возвращаться домой.” (I'm gonna make you my wife. After that, I'll have you barefoot and pregnant all the time. Keep you nice and satisfied when I come home.) Bucky rambles. You nod, agreeing to whatever filth he was conjuring in his mind. He chuckled at your blind faith.

”Я позабочусь о том, чтобы тебе больше не пришлось и пальцем пошевелить, милая. Буду доводить тебя до оргазма снова и снова, пока ты не начнешь умолять меня наполнить тебя.” (I'll make sure you never lift a finger again, honey. Just make you cum over and over again till you beg me to fill you up.) Bucky groans, his hips stuttering. You can tell by the crease in his brow he’s close. You’re helpless to get him off, forced to just lay there and take it as he fucks you deep.

“F-fuck… Gonna cum, женушка (little wife). Gonna fill you up, yeah? You want it, baby?” He asked your permission to cum. You could feel yourself getting wound up as well by his words.

“Yeah, gonna cum too. Now, please, inside.” You murmur, your sentences fracturing together with effort.

Bucky nods. He gives you one more deep thrust before you’re both coming. Your eyes squeeze shut as you give out yet another overstimulated whine.

Bucky spurts thick ropes inside of you, emptying himself as he nearly feels never ending. He pants as he finally stills. You stay there together for minutes before you’re getting hoisted upwards.

He hums as he sits down in your officer seat, sitting you on his lap. You’re still conjoined at the hip. You melt into him like a koala does a tree as you bury your face in his neck and cling to his body.

“Did so good, sweetheart. Made such a mess.” He praised, nearly condescending. You simply sighed against him, too overstimulated to care for his words. His large hand runs up and down your back, lulling you to sleep.

“Позабочусь о том, чтобы всё получилось. Скоро ты забеременеешь и будешь во мне нуждаться.” (gonna make sure it sticks. get you pregnant and needy soon enough.) Bucky smiles, placing a kiss to your forehead as you doze off contently.

——————————————————————

It all started when Steve introduced him to the team. A few looked at him with fear and irritation, you looked at him with nonchalance.

“This is Bucky, everyone. He’s still very… new, to all this. So please, try to help him out.” Steve smiled brightly. Bucky stood slightly behind Steve’s back like a kid behind their mother.

Tony scoffed, clearly against this whole thing. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, and simply walked off. You have never seen Tony speechless of a sarcastic comment. Suddenly, you sat up in your chair as all the other avengers began to walk out without a second glance to the pair.

You hummed, standing up and extending your arm. “Nice t’finally meet you, James.” You greeted. Bucky grunted, not accepting your hand. You weren’t sure if it was because he didn’t like you or if it was because he was scared to touch people yet. Either way, your jaw ticked in annoyance.

“M’names Bucky.” He murmured. You let your arm fall and squinted at him. Bucky didn’t back down, as if you were sizing the eachother up.

A beat passes as you two simply stare at each other, waiting for one to give in first.

“I don’t bite, James. Only when Steve asks me to.” You hummed playfully, noting Steve’s ear flush pink as he darted his gaze respectfully.

“I doubt it.” Bucky replied, not missing a beat. Your eyes widened in intrigue before your knuckled tightened at your sides.

You chew on the inside if your cheek, determining how much more of yourself you want to give up. With a breath, you admit defeat.

“Welcome to the team.” You huff, walking away from the two of them and resorting back to your room.

After that, tensions only began to rise. You pushed Bucky’s buttons, waiting for when his icy composure cracked.

It was early in the morning as you poured yourself a cup of coffee. You had always prided yourself on being the first up in a house of superhumans and assassins, but all that changed when Barnes arrived.

He walked into the kitchen, grunting as he noticed you occupying the machine. He leaned against the countertop as he waited.

“Starin’ problem, Barnes?” You clipped, noticing him staring at your hands as you poured the coffee. His eyes didn’t dart as if he had been caught.

“Jus’ waitin’ my turn.” He grumbled. You hummed. You let your own eyes scan over his body. After you’re done pouring, you didn’t move from the machine, blocking him from the pot.

It was only his first week. Dark bags under his eyes, hair long and recently washed for the first time, long sleeve red henley clinging to his form, sweatpants, and a glove on his left hand.

“Why do you wear the glove? Everyone knows about the arm. S’not a secret.” You blurted, looking at him pointedly.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Bucky asked, as if the answer was obvious. You rolled your eyes.

You sigh, turning to fully face Bucky.

”Vision has red skin with a gem on his forehead, Banner turns angry and green, Tony plays dress up in an iron suit, Sam flies a robot, Thor’s a fuckin’ god, and Wanda can play with your mind.” You ramble, giving him a pointed look.

“Nobodies judgin’ you for your arm.” You add. Bucky steps forward an inch. His jaw tightens in restraint.

A beat passes where you two share an intense glare. Neither of you bothering to say anything. The ball is in his court, even as his concealed metal arm grips the counter like a lifeline.

“What about you, agent? Whats wrong with you?” His voice drops right in your ear. Something sinful pools in your belly as your eyes dart back to the coffee pot.

“Wouldn’t be fun if I spoiled it f’you.” You murmured before slipping away from the pot, grabbing your cup, and heading back to your room.

Bucky threw his glove away when you were out of earshot.

A month passed and suddenly everyone was warming up to Bucky. Everyone except you. Bucky had begun to loosen up as well. No more long sleeves, no more gloves, and a haircut that had you drooling.

You were lounging on the couch, reading mission reports and news articles when Bucky passed through the living room.

He’s sweaty, his shorter hair glistening in the light as a bead of sweat rolls down the back of his neck. Your breath hitches on instinct.

Bucky had just came back from a mission. He had clearly disregarded his tactical vest, leaving him in just the tight fitted black shirt he wore underneath. His black tactical pants were still on, hugging his thighs criminally as he made his way to the kitchen.

He takes out a glass, pouring himself whiskey and tentatively taking a sip. You realized you had been staring at him, mouth agape this whole time. You cleared your throat, suddenly speaking up.

“It’s 9 in the morning, James.” You remind. Bucky nodded from the counter, topping pfd his glass once again. “Why are you drinking?”

He doesn’t turn to look at you, just grunts in acknowledgment of your presence.

“Cute pajamas.” He murmurs, trying to distract you. It works as your cheeks flush and your eyes dart down, seeing your cartoon pajama pants staring back at you.

You huff, angrily looking back at him as if he made you wear the childish pants when he walked in looking like a greek god.

“Doesn’t answer my question.” You clipped. Bucky grunted once more—clearly a prominent reaction for him—but this one was lower, like sin. It made your thighs tighten and your mouth water as he finally turned to look at you.

“I can’t feel it. Just the burn in my throat.” He admits, voice low and rough like gravel. You chew on your bottom lip as his biceps wink at you.

Bucky finishes his whiskey, placing the glass in the sink before he walks away to his room, no doubt looking to change out of his clothes.

Your panties are unmistakably wet. You sit in silence for a moment before retiring to your own room as well.

Your hands glide down into your pants as you begin to play with yourself. A small whine slips out as you tease yourself, imaging its him teasing you.

“All wet n’ warm f’me. Thought y’hated me?” He’d rasp in your ear as his metal fingers prep your cunt. He would slowly slip one digit in, swirling it and curling it as you begged for more.

You moan softly, biting down on your lip to stifle the sound.

His dog tags would tangle above you. Cold metal tickling your breasts as he had another finger. He would begin to pick up the pace, grinning down at you as you struggle to take it.

“B-buck.” You slur, your head lolling back as your own fingers begin to curl into you. No Bucky, no dog tags, no deliciously cool metal arm working you open.

You keen, your back arching as your moans turn breathless, your mouth agape but no noises slipping out.

You sighed as you came down from your high. You looked down, groaning in annoyance at the mess you’ve made.

The next time it happens is when you fuck up a mission. Bucky’s grown out his hair slightly, just enough to where you’d be able to run your fingers through it.

It was a duo operation between you and Bucky, one of the worst possible teams they could've sent for the mission.

It was supposed to be simple. Clean. To steal a hard drive and take it back to the compound to upload it, a simple in and out.

Unfortunately, you fucked up the mission. Bucky couldn’t have that. He’s never had an unsuccessful mission before.

Bucky takes three gunshots and a few hits for you.

You make it back to the jet and he's panting, his metal arm cradling the fabric where he was shot. Unfortunately, nobody thought to send any doctors with the two of you because it was supposed to be an in-and-out.

You pace around the room, murmuring to yourself.

“Calm down, sweetheart.” Bucky comforts, his voice a little hoarse as he breaths. He’s calming you down as he’s bleeding out.

“This is not fucking okay, James! You’re bleeding out and I-I can’t—I dunno how.” You hyperventilate. Bucky grunts from beside you.

“Sit down.”

“I’m a fucking agent. I don’t know how to help you—“

“Come here.”

Bucky’s voice cuts through the panic, your eyes snap towards him as you stop pacing. You realize his shirt is already off. Countless of scars and three new bullet holes trace his body.

His chest rises and falls as he pants. You nod, coming to sit down beside him as your mouth suddenly waters at the wrong time.

”M’gonna need you to stitch me up.” He reminds. You nod slowly before standing up and rummaging through supplies for the medical kit.

You sit back down, biting your inner cheek as he rips the bullets from his body.

“Don’t you just… regenerate? Or something?” You murmur, your lips quivering as your eyes steal glances of his muscles uncovered.

Bucky grunts.

“Something like that. But this’ll take me a few days. Need you before I fucking bleed out.” He reiterates. Your heart freezes on one phrase. Need you.

Suddenly you’re at Bucky Barnes’ beck and call. Whatever he needs from you, he will receive.

You begin to clean his wound, rubbing alcohol stinging his all-too familiar body. He doesn’t wince. He furrows his brows and hums.

You take your time, cleaning up Bucky. The various gunshot wounds are all on different parts of his body.

One is on his flesh arm, right under his broad shoulder blade. The other is close by, between his collarbone and his chest. The third one is on his stomach, against his faint abs.

You remember when Bucky was first introduced to the team. Beefy, muscular, a little bit of a dad bod. He’s slimmed down a little, but his arms and shoulders have barely changed.

You handle him with immense care. Partially because you don’t want Bucky Barnes to kill you. Also because you want to make this moment last.

The silence becomes suffocating, and there is a clear shift in the room as you realize you’re practically draped over his chest.

You clear your throat. “Okay, what’s next?” You murmur, refusing to meet his eyes as your gaze darts to the floor.

Bucky seems to be having the same dilemma, he stares at the wall in front of him, finally releasing a breath.

“Stitches. Grab the needle.” He instructs. Your shaky hands reach for the needle, beginning to thread it through as you hesitantly look back at the gun wounds.

“Great. Y’know what a running stitch is?” He asks, his voice pure gravel as his breathing has finally calmed.

“No, James. They don’t teach sewing classes anymore.” You clip sarcastically. Bucky grins for the first time tonight, a sense of pride swelling within you.

“All you need to do is weave the needle through the wound.” He hums, grabbing the needle to show you the ministrations.

You start, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you start to stitch him up.

The first one is rough. Bucky has to physically hold himself to his seat as you struggle to properly stitch him, poking him every few seconds.

After you finally finish, you feel rather accomplished. Bucky hums and doesn't spare it another word. The silence in the room is enough to choke on as Bucky puts his shirt back on and you move to a further seat.

Neither of you speak for the rest of the night. As the jet lands, you both silently retreat to your rooms, already preparing yourself to forget about everything thats happened.

After that, Bucky Barnes is gone.

He’s still in the tower. He’s still at team movie nights. He’s still at briefings. He’s still on missions. But he’s gone, for you.

He doesn’t stare like he used to. You no longer look up to find icy blues piercing through you. You no longer feel his gaze when you’re both in the gym. He doesn’t look in your general direction anymore.

His touch has vanished. Bucky has always been reserved, but it’s different now. He wont sit close to you, he wont hand you your suit or bags or guns, and he wont share a coffee pot with you.

Along with his touch goes with his presence. He’s completely changed his schedule to avoid you at all costs. He’s up before you can make breakfast. He’s changed his frequently used hallways. He goes to the gym at a different time. And he’s out of a room before you can even enter it.

He has completely vanished from you. And you don’t know why.

Bucky has to ignore you. Not only because he was vulnerable around you, because your touch was so soft, because you focused on him like he mattered.

But also because he was filthy. He could smell your arousal. He could hear your heartbeat quicken around him. And he could see the way your whole body reacted when he said something.

He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve you in that way. So he settled for bickering with you. But after you patched him up, he was a goner. So he had to flee.

He had to get sway from you before he bent you over the nearest surface and whispered sweetly to you while fucking you raw.

It took a week of this treatment from Bucky before you went insane.

Everyone had to attend the weekly debriefings. Bucky made sure to sit as far away from you as possible. You endured an hour and a half lecture of Tony talking about pr training.

The whole time, you planned out how to corner Bucky. He practically bolted after meetings or anything that required the full team.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, anxiously awaiting the words “You are dismissed” to slip from Tony.

When the words finally were announced, you followed Bucky. He took a turn down an abandoned hallway that no one uses. And you followed.

Finally, you called out.

“Are you gonna keep ignoring me?” You state clearly, your voice echoing off the walls of the hallway. He grunts in response.

“Busy.” He murmurs as he finally stops.

“No, you’re just avoiding me.” You replied. Bucky sighs, turning to finally face you. You’re closer than he thought, he takes a half step backwards and you furrow your brows.

He doesn’t respond. Just stares at you with such burn you realize you’ve missed this.

“Did I do something?” You ask, your stern tone starting to vanish as anxiety creeps in. You clear your throat. “Because you’re being an ass to me. All I did was try to help you and this is what I get?” You demand, passion beginning to seep through you like waves.

Bucky doesn’t respond. He steps closer, and closer, until suddenly your back hits the wall and he’s caging you in.

“You don’t know when to quit, doll.” He grumbles, voice low and rough. You realize his icy blues are a new shade of dark. This is all suddenly new. Hot white pleasure sizzles to your abdomen like a curse.

”Yeah? Im sure you could teach me.” You quip back, frustration boiling over again as you remember your mad at him. Bucky huffs low.

“Stand down, Agent.” Bucky reminds, although there is absolutely no professionalism in the way he has you pinned against the wall.

“Agent? We’re back to that? Be real, James.” You remark, pushing against his chest. He doesn't budge, his strength towering over yours as he simply crowds you further.

”Shut up.” Bucky grunts, all clever retorts and dry humor no where near him as he tries to regain his composure. You can’t seem to stop talking.

“Thats not fair. You can’t just tell me to shut up after you ignored me for an entire fucking—“

Your cut off by Bucky’s lips crashing into yours. You startle but don't back away. His tongue slips into yours mouth as you battle for dominance.

Eventually, Bucky wins and you whine, moaning softly into his mouth as his knee slots between your legs against the wall.

You yelp when you feel the connection of your clothed pussy against his pants. Your mouth breaks from his as you pant desperately.

“B-Bucky… fuck.” You moan as he grabs your hips, moving you back and forth against his leg.

“What happened to James?” He hums against your neck with a grin. You huff in frustration at his remark, your hips beginning to grind against his leg as you whine in pleasure.

He peppers opened mouth kisses against your neck and suddenly the two of you fall apart.

You’re taking your pleasure from him, grinding helplessly as he loses himself in you and your scent. He’s kissing you, marking you, licking you like this a wet dream.

“Y’gonna let me get you off, doll? Gonna let me fuck you all nice later? I’ll be good honey, promise.” He practically winces against you, his head peeling back to watch as you practically hump him.

“Mhm. ‘Course, James. Need it.” You pant breathlessly. It all becomes too much as your head falls forward.

His eyes are more black than blue as he watches you. A sudden spurt of possession washes over him. His eyes dart across the hallway.

“Not here. Need you in my bed.” He grunts before you’re suddenly being ripped from his thigh and into his arms.

He wastes no time to get you in his room, shutting the door and locking it before pinning you against it once more.

His mouth finds yours again. His tongue explores you as his hand cradles the back of your head.

“Don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.” He admits breathlessly. You nod in agreement, kissing his cheek, jawline, anything.

“Please, doll. Can I? Want these off. Wanna taste you s’bad.” He begs, his fingers playing with the waistband of your pants. You nod eagerly.

“Yes, James. Want it.” You agree. He hastily pulls off your clothes, his fingers work in expertise that you’ll surely interrogate him about later as he has you undressed in seconds.

He hoists you upwards. You yelp as he suspends you in the air, forcing your legs to wrap around his head on instinct.

He groans as he’s finally face-to-face with your sopping pussy. A whole new wave of arousal courses through you at his strength. It’s effortless for him. He effortlessly is holding you up to his height and to his mouth.

“Gotta taste. Can smell how fuckin’ sweet you are.” His tongue begins to lavish you, working open your cunt as your slick coats his mouth. He feasts on you eagerly, his tongue licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit.

“B-buck… James, don’t stop.” You moan breathlessly, your hips bucking involuntarily against his face as he groans in approval.

His eyes shoot upwards at you, dark and hungry as his mouth doesn't stop sucking on your clit. He studies your reactions with ease, finding out just what you like and doing it over and over and over again.

“Put me in a headlock. Suffocate me.” He pulls off enough to say, your eyes widened. You look back down and hesitate. Suddenly, his tongue swirls inside of you and you realize you have comply quickly.

Your thighs tighten around his head. He groans, his eyebrows fluttering shut in pleasure as his hips buck helplessly.

He can feel you getting close, can practically hear the shift in your body as a coil in your stomach prepared to snap.

His metal arm solely supports you as his other hand moves up to your breasts. His hand gropes and squeezes, twisting your nipple slightly.

Bucky’s nose bumps your clit repeatedly as you cry out in pleasure. Your eyes roll back slightly as you cum on Bucky’s mouth. He hums against you, lapping you up as if he was cleaning his plate.

He finally pulls back, moving you to his bed as you come down from your high. He puts you down with shocking care and gentleness, placing kisses along your body.

“Knew you’d get all soft f’me. Where’d all that bite go, sweetheart?” He teases, pulling away as he shrugs off his pants. You want to bite at his comment, but you’re too distracted watching him get undressed.

He pulls off his shirt, revealing all of that muscle you saw not too long ago. His gun wounds are already fully healed, like he said they would be.

“My sweet girl, aren’t you? Say it.” He murmurs lowly. You chew on the inside of your mouth. He wants you to fight. He wants your attitude.

You take the bait, per usual.

“Not your sweet girl.” You clip, feeling yourself getting worked up again as you notice the tent in his boxers.

“No? You sure sounded real sweet, doll.” He reinforces, biting hickeys into your neck snd the skin above your breasts.

He lavishes your body in kisses. Merciful. As if he was the quiet before the storm.

“Startin’ to get cold, James.” You sigh impatiently. Bucky leans back, shrugging off his boxers.

His cock bounces at full attention. Thick, long, and leaking for you. You swallow at the sight of it, and you realize it might not fit.

Bucky notices the look in your eyes immediately.

“Don’t worry, baby. M’gonna make it fit.” He grins cockily, you roll yours eyes with a huff. He snakes his way back up your body, tapping his tip against your cunt.

One. Two. Thre—

“Bucky…” You whine. He hums, his eyes meeting yours again in a haze.

”Say it.” He reminds. He drags his cock up and down your folds, using you to slick himself up. You groan as you realize your options. Edging for hours, or getting fucked now.

“I’m your sweet girl, James. Now fuck me.” You exasperate. He grins and slides easily through you. You moan, mouth agape as you feel his tip brush your cervix.

He’s waiting for you to adjust. He plants kisses along your stomach and his previously marked hickeys.

Slowly, he begins to move, finding the pace for both of you. He quickens, his hips beginning to snap against yours.

His dog tags dangle in your face as he thrusts into you. You whimper, feeling his cock effortlessly slide in and out of you.

Somethings off, you both know it.

“Faster, Buck.” You plead, eyes glossy as you look up at him. He grunts.

Suddenly, he grabs your legs, pulling them up and bending them till your knees touch your chest.

Your eyes instantly roll back as he hits deeper. You moan, his eyes widening as he finds your spot.

“There she is. So pretty f’me. Taking me so well. Just needed it deeper? Nobody found her before?” He rambles as he bullies that gooey spot in you.

Your head lolls backwards into the pillow as your cunt tightens around him eagerly.

Your orgasm comes in a blur, all you know is he doesn't stop even as you squirt around him. He grins with a feral look in his eye as his head drops lower.

“S’all yours, doll. Just gotta take it.” He rasps, his movement hypnotic as you smiled into the air, high off your own peak as he chases his.

He’s close, his movement growing clumsy as he tried to bring you to the edge again. It works.

“My good girl. My pretty girl. Doin’ so well f’me. Come with me.” He demands. His hands drifts to your clit, rubbing circles onto you as your back arches and you mewl pathetically.

He works you up quickly, already training you for him.

“Give it to me again. Means I did my job right. Made you feel good. C’mon.” He pleads with you. You nod into his pillow.

One more deep thrust is all it takes before you come together. He pants, ropes of his cum still going as he finally pulls out.

Your legs shakily fall down onto the bed. He falls beside you. The two of you bask in silence together, reminiscing happily. You dont think of the repercussions yet. Of how your supposed to hate him.

You just happily drift off as you feel a warm cloth clean you up.

“Mine now, honey. Only took a week for you to realize it.”

——————————————————————

“And? It’s none of your bloody business.” Fred sneered back. Now he was running out of comebacks, and prank ideas.

“Think you could do better, princess?” Fred grinned, a fiery challenge now burning in his brown eyes. You snapped your gaze back to the boy and laughed.

“I know I can.” You insisted, ignoring the tingly feeling inside of your belly at the nickname ‘princess’. You’ve always been known as the Slytherin princess, being Draco’s sister. It was just something different when Fred referenced it.

You began to fiddle with the firework box, mumbling different enchantments that leave much more of an impact in much sillier ways.

Suddenly, in the middle of you slowly forgetting the fact that you were enjoying yourself with a Weasley, you hear a deep, intimidating voice.

“Ah, if it isn’t Ms. Malfoy.” A sickening voice purred from behind the two of you. Instantly, your spine straightened, your head snapped upwards, and your cheeks flush red in embarrassment.

”How would your father react if he knew his precious daughter was pulling pranks with a red-headed Weasley?” Snape sneered at you. He could care less for Fred, he was used to deducting points from Gryffindor. You, however, were not getting left off the hook.

“N-no professor! I swear to merlin, I was just about to come to you about this. He’s trying to prank Finch! I had no involvement in this—“ You began to excuse yourself as Fred snickered beside you.

“You can further explain this in detention alongside your new friend, Malfoy.” Snape dismissed. You scoffed as you and Fred both stood, the fireworks left behind as you sullenly walked to the library.

You were utterly furious as Fred laughed beside you, completely unfazed. Clearly enjoying himself.

“Aww, sorry, princess. First time in detention?” Fred cooed mockingly as the three of you reached the library. Snape huffed. He certainly didn’t have the time to watch over the two of you.

“You’re lucky I have a meeting with the Ministry. Organize all of these shelves. I’ll be back soon, don’t do anything stupid.” Snape rumbled as he left the room, locking the two of you in the library alone together.

Fred grinned dopily as steam practically flew out of your ears.

“Ugh! You’re so annoying!” You huffed as you stormed off to the bookshelves, angrily putting them away.

“Mmm. Keep goin’, sweetheart.” Fred laughed as he followed you, leaning against the bookshelves and clearly not helping. He was relaxed. Nearly lazy. Nearly sexy.

“Please, Weasley. Keep it in your pants.” You scoffed, clearly irritated as you continued sorting the books out. Fred hummed from beside you, still not contributing.

“I don’t think you want me to, darlin’. Seems like your gaggin’ for it.” He remarked. Slowly, he stood from his lazy lounge against the bookshelf. You were nothing short of blushing, but you refused to admit it.

“Spare me. Nobody’s ‘gagging’ for whatever shrimp you’re hiding in those hand-me-down robes.” You laughed, trying desperately to flip the tables and regain control. But it was far too gone now.

“Im sure it’s bigger than your last boyfriend. Been awhile since you’ve had a real orgasm, huh, sweetheart? Probably sounded like Moanin’ Myrtle while you faked it again, and again, and again.” Fred hummed as your cheeks flushed red. You set down another book and scoffed.

“Do you ever shut up!” You weakly defended. Fred grinned wider, coming even closer to you. Applying more pressure.

“You wouldn’t have to fake it with me, darlin’.”

Heavy silence fell over the library. And for the first time all night, you had no clever quip to return with. So, you turned towards Fred, moving to push him away.

As soon as your arms extended, Fred had you in a lock. He took your hands and pinned them above your head. He moved swiftly, pinning you against the bookshelf. One of his large hands held the two of yours while his other roamed freely.

“Oh, poor thing, cat caught y’tongue?” He snickered sadistically. Unfortunately, you whined under his hold, only prompting him to continue this sweet torture.

He alternated between mocking you, and downright degrading you. And merlins fuck, it was hot.

“You’re wet. You’re wet for a fuckin’ Weasley. What would y’daddy think?” His question came out as a snarl. You had no where to run. Your arms were restrained, his hips pinned your own in place, and your knees were weak.

Not a squeak leaves your mouth. Because he’s right. You’re dripping in your knickers. It’s practically embarrassing, and for some reason, that makes you even more wet.

Suddenly, Fred is flipping you around, keeping you effectively pinned as your front is now pressed against the bookshelf.

His free hand, the one you hadn’t been paying attention to, is now gliding across your hips mischievously.

“What are y’going to do about it?” You murmured. Not confidently, not arrogantly, it’s nearly a whine. Nearly desperate.

And he chuckles.

His laugh is the last thing you hear before he one handily rips your skirt off of you. Revealing your arse to his gaze.

And suddenly, a deafening slap is being forced upon your ass. And oh, fuck. It stings. But it ignites something so deep inside of you, you moan. Whorishly.

And its silent. Deadly, silent. Embarrassment floods through your veins so hot it feels like you’re on fire.

And he laughs. The only thing that breaks the silence is his laugh as he smooths over the harsh red handprint now engraved on your bare bottom.

“Oh, you really are a slut, hmm?” He teases before delivering another smack. You whimper, subconsciously pushing your arse further into his hands, silently begging for more.

You can hear his wolfish grin.

“No… m’not a slut.” You whine, almost demanding it. Unfortunately Freds no longer convinced. He soothes over your plush blistering skin reassuringly.

“Who would’a thought Slytherin’s princess was just some naughty little whore. Desperate to be put in her place. Like a fuckin’ brat.” He growls before he smacks your ass again. Your next moan is shameless, your cunt is dripping, your nipples are pebbling through your top.

Your skin betrays you. Pliant for Fred. Your ass practically jiggles in his hand, inviting more sweet punishment.

“Are you gonna be my good girl? Gonna let me fuckin’ have you?” He hums rhetorically. Despite your pride, you nod. Desperate to be touched. Desperate for friction.

“Words, sweetheart.” He sadistically purrs. Normally, you would curse him for demanding anything out of you. But you’re in his hands now. He has the control. He has you.

“Yes, m’gonna be a good girl! S’good.” You slur mindlessly. Arousal and embarrassment collide hotly, only making your pussy pulse as he finally releases your wrists.

Now he has two hands available. Double trouble.

It’s like the quiet before the storm as he runs his hands down your body. He grips whatever he can find, he kisses your shoulder blade, as if the two of you were lovers.

But the storm always arrives no less.

His right hand, the one that had been slapping your arse, moves forward, past your hips, towards your sacredness.

The left, the one that once held your wrist, is now dealing damage.

“You sought me out… wearin’ a skirt, and no panties. What’d you think was gonna happen, love?” He murmurs mockingly as two fingers slip into your cunt and his other hand delivers a crackling smack. You whine, gushing over his hand as you grip the bookshelf for dear life.

Certainly, there is a red handprint on at least one of your asscheeks.

You’re not focused on the stinging pain from behind as his long fingers work magic in your cunt. He knows just where to touch, how to swirl, and when to curl.

“Fred,” You breathe. Overstimulated. You’re practically heady. And of course Fred finds this all so amusing. The bulge of his dick is pressed against your bare ass, his whole body and scent surrounding you, reinforcing your dizziness.

“What happened to ‘Weasley’?” He grins against the back of your neck, nipping at the skin there as he continues to lavish at your cunt.

“You’re so tight. None of those pricks knew how to stretch you, aye? How to take care of this pretty pussy.” He cooed in your ear, creating a string of moans from your lips as his other hand left your ass and cupped your clothed tits.

Luckily for you, Fred is a blabbering mess. Leaving you to incoherently moan as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

“I’m sure none of them knew how filthy you are, either. How you like to be spanked like a naughty thing.” He rasped to you. This seems to be your final straw as this sends you flying over the edge.

You nearly squirt just from his fingers. You cry out, prompting Fred to cover your mouth with his other hand as you ride out your orgasm.

He gives you time to recover as he pulls out his fingers. He sucks your sweetness off of them as you pant.

“That’s it?” You breathe. Stubborn, prideful, familiar. Something to distract the two of you from how right it feels.

Luckily that takes Fred back to his originally competitive state of mind. He’s harshly back on you.

He grabs your hair, tugging, forcing you to his mouth as he connects to your lips with a sloppy kiss. “C’mon, love.” He grins wickedly against you. “Don’t act like you weren’t droolin’ all over my hand.”

He laughs. Before you ever realize that his trousers were pulled down, you feel an angry hard tip press against your cunt from behind.

He rubs his tip up-and-down your soaked folds, teasing the both of you. Your breath hitches as you grip the bookshelf once more.

Fred Weasley is about to take you from behind. Fred Weasley just made you cum. Fred Weasley’s handprint is on your ass currently.

It ignites something primal in you.

You’re no longer the rich, Malfoy. You’re Fred Weasley’s hole to fuck.

And suddenly he’s sliding in. You moan whorishly, your back arching from his size. He’s lengthy, with a nice girth. It has your jaw wide as you moan.

He’s incredibly ‘humble’ about it as well.

“What is it, princess?” He coos, mockingly sweet. You take the bate no less. Convinced that maybe Fred will show you some sympathy.

“S’too big…” You whine, wiggling your hips as you desperately try to take him deeper. Fred cruelly laughs at your attempts before he mercilessly begins to thrust.

You gasp as he starts his pace, losing all sense of dignity as sweet noises begin to tumble out of you.

Its messy, fast, and hard. Its so Fred. He fucks like he has something to prove. His cock is so deep and long that it’s hitting unimaginable spots within you. His words completely fuel your gushing pussy’s desire. He doesn't jackhammer, he fucks.

“M-merlins, fuck… Fred! M’cant—t’much—ahh!” You babble mindlessly. You’re so close but also not close enough. You want to go longer, but holy fuck he’s making it hard to do so.

“Oh, poor thing. S’it too much? D’you want me to stop, sweetheart?” He mockingly whimpers back to you, followed by a cackle of a laugh. Unfortunately, this only makes you tighten around him. And he feels it.

His hands slide from your hips back down to the curve of your ass where he’s thrusting into you from.

“Oh you’re a picture perfect whore, aren’t you? Stuffed to the brim with cock, and taking it.” He growls, eliciting a primal moan from you as he playfully slaps your ass, entranced by the way it jiggles for him.

“No one would believe me if I told them I fucked The Malfoy princess. How she moaned for a Weasley’s cock. Beggin’ me so sweetly.” He grinned at the thought, making you whine and squeeze further around him.

You didn’t want him to degrade you. But oh, your body certainly did.

“Holy shit—Fred!” You gasp as he hits that spot. He doesn’t acknowledge it though. In fact, he slows down like the teasing shite he is, watching as you whine desperately for him as he completely stills inside of you.

“What is it that you want, eh?” He teasingly inquires. As if he doesn’t know. He wants you to say it.

You try desperately to fuck yourself against him. Your pride still swollen in your chest as you rutted tour hips backwards in search of friction.

Alas, no prevail.

“I-I need it… Fred.” You mumble, chewing on your bottom lip. You pray its enough, but deep down you know it isn’t.

“C’mon sweetheart, you can do better than that. Sing for Freddie.” He maliciously hums, nipping at the back of your ear. You can feel a hand slide up to your hair, gripping it, threatening you.

So, you sing.

“Please! Please, Fred. Need y’to fuck me like you hate me. Like a slut!” You shamefully plead. If your father ever knew you just begged to be fucked like a slut, you would surely be disowned.

But Fred’s dick pulsed inside of you with promise that made it all seem worth the embarrassment.

He laughed as he sped back up, and you knew this time, you were destined to cum.

“Filthy fuckin’ girl. Do anythin’ for my dick, eh?” He rasped as his pace grew unforgiving, building your orgasm. You can feel it in your lower abdomen. You know you won’t last.

“Oh fuck. You’re grippin’ me like a vice. Wanna cum, sweetheart? Call yourself my whore, then i’ll let you.” He demanded. You could practically hear his smirk, and it made your insides flip unnaturally.

A few more thrusts and you were convinced you would die if you didn’t cum. So, you relinquish any sense of control you had left. And, despite yourself, it felt good to submit.

“I-I’m your whore, Fred! Please, lemme cum. M’all yours!” You slurred obscenely. Fred hummed, hitting even deeper inside of you.

His hands wrapped around your body, one gripping your neck, the other covering your mouth.

“Cum for me.”

Thats all it took.

You milked him of everything he had, eliciting a guttural groan from behind you as you let go. Fred fucked you through your orgasm. When you finally finished, he couldn’t take it anymore.

He pulled out, positioned his cock, and came all over your ass.

It was dirty, and shameful. But it certainly felt good. The two of you panted in harmony as you came down from your highs together.

“Not bad, Weasley.” You panted.

Fred knew what kind of girl you were just by looking at you. You had a big, rich last name. New robes every year. A million different trinkets even you couldn’t remember. And a somewhat ditzy personality that screamed ‘rich girl’.

Fred came from nothing. A crooked house, six siblings, dirt poor, and a cocky personality that made up for it ten folds.

Fred shouldn’t even be looking at a girl like you. A girl whose family could buy all of Hogwarts if they wanted to. Your families were far from the same tax bracket. But merlin’s fuck, you were too kind. Too nice. Too beautiful to let go.

You were a little Hufflepuff badger girl that strayed too far close to the Weasley’s lion den. Now, Fred was determined to sink his claws into you.

“Stop starin’, you git.” George snapped his twin out of his little dreamland. Fred’s eyes had been blazing into the back of your head for the past 20 minutes. Fred huffed, playfully smacking his brother back as he rolled his eyes.

“I wasn’t starin’. Just lookin’.” Fred insisted. George hummed, completely unconvinced as he shot his twin a look. He was lucky they were in Herbology, had this been Potions, Snape would’ve cursed the boys out for talking so much.

“Then stop lookin’. You fancy rich girls now?” George continued to prod, usually the ‘voice of reason’ between the two twins. Fred simply laughed. Not backing down for a second.

“Like you haven’t? She’s got a pretty face, doesn’t she?” Fred retorted, causing George’s cheeks to flush pink a bit. You were pretty. Very, pretty. But his brother had already stuck his claim on you.

“At least this one’s a badger. Maybe I’ll even give you a turn if I ever get my hands on her.” Fred laughed. George couldn’t help but chuckle at that, never one to diminish his brother for long.

“Uh huh, I’ll hold ya’ to it, Freddie.” George laughed as well. Fred simply chuckled and nodded. He would get his hands on you soon enough. Nothing was ever ‘out of reach’ for Fred.

Fred’s mind kept drifting back to you.

The way you would smile at him as he passed by was enough for him to risk it all. The way you would giggle at his jokes or laugh when he pulled a prank made him want to simply disregard all consequence.

You’re a rare kind, one that Fred is willing to bet his entire measly life-savings on having only ever felt the touch of boys chasing their own pleasure, not yours.

He wanted to change that.

It was something about how forbidden you were. How a girl like you was meant to be ‘off limits’ to a Weasley like him. Fred always did love the chase.

—————————————————————

At the end of the day, you walked into Fred’s claws with open arms. While Fred was busy falling in love with his little delusions, he never noticed how you looked at him. You couldn’t resist the ginger headed boy. Even if you could only have a night.

You looked like any civil man’s wet dream wrapped in designer.

Not only designer, but in Gryffindor Red and Gold. With his name on your back. A bold, risky move. And well, Fred was wearing a big grin all match.

When the match was finally done, and Harry had caught the snitch, Fred only had one thing on his mind.

You.

Typically he would host a party, get drunk, flirt a bit, maybe even go prank the opposing team with his twin. But with you dressed like that. He was bee-lining for the stands as soon as he hit the ground.

To say you didn’t like the attention would be a painful lie.

“Weasley, eh?” A buttery-smooth voice purred from behind you. You turned to look, but his hands were faster. His arms encircled your middle from behind, trapping you to face forward as the crowd slowly spilled out of the stands.

“Well that is the name on my back, innit?” You purred back. His sly smirk turned into a dopey grin from behind you. He did love when you flirted back with him. You could feel him pressing into you from behind.

“I s’pose it is. You’re practically beggin’ me to fuck you when you look like that, love.” Fred hummed as he pressed himself more profusely against your rear. You gasped, chewing on your bottom lip as he kept you pinned to your body easily.

Normally, Fred would have the slightest sense of boundary. But you’ve clearly forfeited all right to that.

“Gettin’ all worked up over a name, Weasley?” You teased, certainly not knowing what you’ve gotten yourself into. Or maybe you did. Maybe you wanted it.

Fred laughed breathily. As if it was paining him to hold back. As if he was fighting every urge not to fuck you against the bleachers beside you.

”Yeah, you could say that.” He breathed. Despite yourself, you wiggled your ass against him, earning a low groan from behind you.

“Naughty little thing.” He tsked. Before you knew it, he was removing his hands from your stomach and hoisting you up and over his shoulder. You yelped, gasping and giggling as he slapped your ass with you hurled over one arm of his. (don’t be surprised. he’s a beater that grew up with 6 other siblings)

“Fred!” You shrieked. In which he hummed in response as he carried you off to his dorm room.

“Does y’daddy know you got a Weasley’s name on your back, love?” Fred groaned as he placed you down on the edge of his bed. Slowly. Agonizingly. He sunk to his knees between your spread legs.

He then placed a kiss, right on your clothed cunt. Eyes maintaining eye-contact with you the entire time. His pupils were blown, more black than brown as he grinned up at you and lazily pressed his cheek on your inner thigh.

“Does he know you’re fuckin’ wet for a Weasley, too?” He grinned, his fingers tugging down your waistband. Revealing your bare legs to his gaze. He groaned at the sight of your lace panties.

Fred was slipping your panties down your legs, revealing all of you to him. He tossed the garment to the side. You didn’t watch where they went. Didn’t know where they landed.

And then he was on you.

He couldn’t hold back. Jersey still on you, he leaned in, sucking on your cunt as he filthily ate you out. You gasped and groaned as his hands gripped your arse, bringing you closer to his awaiting mouth as he went down on you.

It was heaven. To say the least. And he was good. And he liked it.

His tongue would encircle your clit and his hips would rut into the side of the bed. When he added his fingers, you were a goner.

Two long digits fucking whatever his tongue wasn’t occupied with. It was messy, and you were a whining mess above him. Hand around your mouth, suffocating your little noises of pleasure.

Fred grunted in frustration. He wasn’t going to pull off your cunt to complain, to grab your hand and force your noises right out of your throat.

No, that’s what his twin was for.

“C’mon, love. Don’t go quiet on ‘im now. Not when he’s workin’ so bloody hard to get you moanin’ like that.” A voice purred from across the room. Your eyes snap up to meet George’s.

Despite yourself. Despite every moral bone in your body. Despite your mum and dad whom want you to find a good man at Hogwarts… You moan.

And Fred groans in praise. And hell he works harder now that you know his twin is here.

“Fred—y’brother—ahh, Fred!” You moaned, unable to escape his grasp as George chuckled from his bed. That’s when you noticed what he was holding. Your panties that Fred had ‘carelessly’ thrown onto his twins bed. All so calculated.

George didn’t look away from you as he brought your ruined panties to his nose, inhaling deeply, followed by a low whine as his hips involuntarily bucked.

That’s what sent you over the edge. That’s what sent you tumbling onto Fred’s mouth. With an incoherent cry, you fell apart for Fred.

He eagerly lapped up every drop, of course. Earning a hum of approval from his brother with a teasing grin. You panted as you came down from your high. Your legs shaking, hair disheveled, jersey lopsided and hanging off one shoulder.

Fred wasn’t done with you. And he was certainly leaving no time for questions. You felt him manhandling you onto your stomach, your arse up and ready.

Just as you expected him to line up with you from behind, to finally give your cunt what it’s been craving, he moves away.

“My turn, sweetheart.”

——————————————————————

“Jus’ such a pretty girl. So beautiful. Look better when you’re in my bed.” He teases as his tip kisses your cervix over and over again. Your cunt is sensitive and overstimulated from your two previous orgasms, only allowing him to hit deeper inside if you.

You moan beneath him as your phone vibrates and buzzes repeatedly on Bucky’s side table beside the bed.

Bucky grunts as he hears yet another vibration and he stops abruptly.

“Can’t blame him, sweetheart. If I lost this I’d be pissed too.” He laughs, but it’s tight and frustrated.

Your ringtone begins to play, the fucker is seriously calling you right now. Bucky grins sadistically as he recognizes the tune, he looks at you, silently asking for permission. When you nod, it’s game over.

He grabs your phone, pressing it to your ear as he answers.

“Why the fuck aren’t you answering my texts? You’re supposed to be my girl!” You hear your boyfriend angrily yell into the phone. Bucky grins down at you as he slowly begins to thrust again, pulling a low whimper from you that has you glaring at Bucky.

“Yeah, well, you lost her. She’s mine now. Stop callin’, we’re clearly in the middle of somethin’.” He grunted as his thrusts increased, a hand flew to your mouth to muffle your moans beneath him, earning a grin from Bucky.

“What? Who is thi—wait… is this Bucky? The Bucky that’s been goin’ after my girl?” Your ex puzzled together, making Bucky laugh as his other hand trailed over your chest, squeezing your breasts with a playful wink.

“The Bucky that’s got ‘your’ girl.” He corrected with a grunt as he pounded into you. The sound of skin slapping skin only grew louder and you wondered how long it would be before your ex realized.

“Just…just give her the damn phone!” Your ex mumbled angrily. Bucky laughed before looking down at you, hand covering your mouth, biting on it to suppress your moans.

“Not sure she can talk right now, she’s a little… busy.” Bucky hummed suggestively. Your ex began to spew curses and insults at Bucky as he fucked you. He leaned down, sucking on your nipple as your ex rambled on in his ear.

“—And that metal arm? Tacky! I can’t believe she would replace me with some—“ His words are drowned out by the noises of your pleasure. Bucky hums against your skin before pulling away with a grunt.

”Unless you want to hear her fuckin’ moan my name, it’s best to hang up.” Bucky rumbles into the phone. Your ex grows silent before he hangs up, Bucky grunts as he sets your phone back down and you finally uncover your mouth.

“T-thanks.” You whimper as his cock is grazing that spot. You moan and writhe beneath him, head buried in his pillow as your pussy clenched around his erection, coaxing another orgasm out of you.

“‘Course, doll. If he calls again, don’t cover your mouth.” He mumbles and that sends you over the edge.

You moan his name, panting as you give him another orgasm. This time, he’s comping with you. When you clamp down around him, he can’t hold back. He practically growls as he comes with you. His breathing labored. He collapses beside you, breathing in the scent of your shampoo as you both relish in the silence for a moment.

“I love you too, James.” You mumble, the weight of your previous orgasm collapsing on you as you drift off to bed. Bucky peels away, grabbing a warm wash cloth and dabbing along your messy thighs, cleaning you up. He kisses you as you lull to sleep.

The next morning, you wake up with Bucky’s arm around you, holding you firmly in place against his chest.

He’s snoring softly which makes you chuckle. You grab your phone, seeing at least twenty new messages from your ex.

You sign and set your phone back down. You really don’t feel like dealing with that today. You slowly peel away from Bucky’s grip, naturally awakening the super soldier.

“Sweetheart.” He rumbles, his sleepy voice making you stop in your trails. He sits up with a smile. Bucky has never been a morning person, but waking up next to you was so worth it.

“Shh, go back to bed.” You murmur with a cheeky grin. Bucky rolls his eyes, standing and following you on your feet. Your headed for his shower, and he’s right behind you.

“Please, doll. Can’t without you.” He rolls his eyes, hands gripping your waist and pulling you back against him. He’s insatiable. His morning wood pressed against your ass. You groan sarcastically, making Bucky chuckle.

“Buck.” You whine in complaint. Bucky hums, walking you forward to the shower. He turns on the water for you, noticing how shaky your legs are, making him laugh knowingly.

“Shut it.” You snap. He puts up his hands defensively, a grin wide across his face. The two of you step into the shower, the warm water cascading around you as he cradles your body against him.

Comfortable silence falls over the two of you as he ‘helps’ you wash your body, his cock pulsing with every drag of the loofa against your skin.

“Lemme take you out, doll.” He murmurs gently as his hands come to rest on your soapy stomach from behind you. You hum, blush spreading across your cheeks.

“Make you mine, for real. Not just fuck this pretty body.” He laughs, making you giggle as you turn around in his hold and smack him playfully on his shoulder.

“What makes you think I want to go out? I just got cheated on by my long-term, committed, relationship.” You laugh, your words clearly playful and sarcastic. Bucky rolls his eyes and scoffs playfully.

“Seemed like you wanted to go out when ya’ let me fuck you with your ‘long-term’ boyfriend on the phone.” Bucky laughed, your face flushed as you gasped, making him laugh. He turns you around, pressing you against the cool tile of the shower.

“Dinner then. Tomorrow. I’ll come by and pick you up.” Bucky insisted with a grin as he nipped on your shoulder, making you shudder against him.

“I’ll think about it.” You grin as he lines himself up again.

—————————————————————

Bucky was obsessed with you. From your head to your toe. You showed so much hospitality. You didn’t treat him like a failed experiment, or a killer, or a broken object, or a frightened animal, nor did you walk on eggshells around him as if he could strike at any moment.

You treated him like a friend.

He wanted to be more than that, but he’d never say it.

Plus, you had a boyfriend.

And it infuriated him. You were under appreciated. In his mind, anyone who wasn’t him would under appreciate you.

But he also felt like he didn’t deserve you. He was a conflicted man. Constantly second guessing himself. Except when he was with you, he was decisive. He wanted you. That never changed. Never wavered.

Stark’s personal assistant. Therefore, all of the avengers personal assistant. You had grown really close with Bucky, but you appreciated all the avengers just the same.

Stark had complained that Bucky had been ‘non-descriptive’ in his report regarding his latest solo mission. Meaning, you had to go fetch Bucky and make him fix it. Only problem was Bucky was working out in the towers’ gym. And you questioned all loyalty to your boyfriend when you saw Bucky working out.

“James!” You called as you entered the gym. You were the only one allowed to call him that, and it made his cock twitch.

Your eyes canned over the weight room. Sam and Steve sparring, Natasha stretching before her workout, a few S.H.I.E.L.D. agents here and there lifting weights, then, there’s Bucky.

He’s marvelous. Sweat dripping down his body, biceps bulging as he benches, metal arm glistening in the light, face barely contorted as if he’s not struggling. He’s currently benching 3 plates (315 pounds). It’s just his warmup weight. And it does something to you. His warm up weight is more than you. He’s not even struggling. Your boyfriend can’t lift you up. Can’t throw you around like you weight nothing. But Bucky can.

He grins when he sees you, getting in one more rep before he racks the bar. He sits up on the bench, his head motioning you to come over.

He’s just as affected by you as you are by him. And you have no clue.

“Hey, doll. What’s goin’ on?” He drawls, his voice a bit ragged. You blush with a kind smile. Bucky was a charmer. And he was kind to you. Respectful. A gentlemen.

“Mr. Stark says your report was inconclusive. He wants you to add more detail to the battle and the outcome.” You remark professional. His eyes drop and he curses under his breath. Bucky in his gym clothes, working out, looking like a greek god, and all you wanted from him was a damn report?

“C’mon, sweetheart, you could at least add some sugar f’me.” He grinned as he looked back up at you, gently taking the paper into his hands as he read over it.

“Right. Let me rephrase.” You clear your throat, ridding of your ‘professional’ voice that Bucky acted like he hated, but secretly found so sexy. “Tony wants you to add more to your report, Buck. Can you do that f’me?” You repeated in a sweet, less professional tone. You let your words slur sloppily. Like a real person.

Bucky grinned and nodded as he tossed the page beside his water bottle. He stood abruptly, towering over you as he moved to go add more weight to the bar.

He added another plate on both sides (405 pounds), and you swore you were gonna lose it if you watched him. You found your mind slipping. Your boyfriend starting to drift into forgetfulness. You knew you had to get out of there before you were licking the sweat off of his arms.

“Yeah, doll, I’ll handle it.” He winked with a cheeky grin as he slid back onto the bench, getting himself back into position to bench press the weight. You watched for a moment before you realized you really needed to get out of there.

So you did, after one final look of Bucky tossing around twice as much as your weight with no struggle, you left the gym with an undeniably flutter in your heart that you desperately tried to ignore.

It was wrong, you thought. You had a boyfriend. Bucky could have anyone he wanted. This was just a silly, school-girl crush. Or at least, that’s what you thought.

—————————————————————

“You know Bucky likes you, right?” Natasha inquired. She truly didn’t know if you were that clueless or not. Turns out, you were.

“What? No he doesn’t, Nat.” You laughed, as if she was playing some cruel joke on you. People had tried to tell you before that he liked you, but you never listened.

Your mind played sick tricks on you. Bucky could have anyone girl he wanted, why would he want you?

“—Plus, even if it’s true. I have a boyfriend.” You reminded, earning a playful groan from Natasha. It seems no one really liked your boyfriend along the tower.

“I’m serious! I heard him and Steve talkin’ about it. I dunno, ‘doll’, seems like he could have the ‘hots’ for you.” Natasha implied. You rolled your eyes. Truly, she was persistent and relentless. That was nice. You still didn’t believe her, but the effort was there.

“You’re ridiculous.” You’d laugh. Though you didn’t know if you were talking to yourself, or Natasha.

—————————————————————

Weeks gone by since that little encounter with Natasha. You and Bucky remained normal, close friends, professional. Even if he would call you little names, and even if you would giggle and smack his shoulder when he said something too flirty.

Bucky was a charmer. You reminded yourself. Steve constantly teased him about the 40’s, how every woman left satisfied after a night with Bucky Barnes.

You figured, it was nice to let him flirt with you. Even if you didn’t reciprocate too much. It helped build his confidence. You thought. You’re being a good friend. You reminded.

Bucky wanted you so bad it hurt. At every turn, he was reminded he couldn’t have you. That so other asshole could. He would never get to hear you laugh intimately, or take you out, or have you writhing beneath him as he worships every—

“You got it bad, Buck.” Steve sighed as he sat down by his friend. Bucky didn’t deny it. Didn’t grow defensive. Didn’t push away his friend and fire back with his own remark. He just bowed his head into his hands with a groan.

“I know.” Was all he could say. Everyday you stayed on his mind. I bet she would like these flowers. Bucky would think as he passed by a local shop. I bet she would kiss every damn scar. Bucky would think as he looked over his ruined body in the mirror. His brain constantly taunted him with the thoughts of what you might be like.

“What are you gonna do?” Steve murmured. They had just gotten back from a mission, sitting together as they flew back to Stark’s Tower.

“I don’t know.” Bucky sighed, lifting his head to finally meet Steve’s gaze. Nothing but empathy. Steve had been there before. When he was scrawny, and no girl would even look his way.

But Bucky wasn’t scrawny. Girls looked his way all the time. Why couldn’t he just get over you? In all honesty, he didn’t want to. You were one of the best people he had ever met, and he didn’t want to let you go.

“James! You’re back.” You beamed as you saw him enter the tower. Snacks all in your hands. You were restocking the fridge for everyone again. So thoughtful. So kind.

“Hey, gorgeous, you need some help?” He asked, even as he was already grabbing all the grocery bags off your arms without responding. You laughed as he took them, a big lopsided grin as his face as you two walked together.

Steve sent him a look. Bucky ignored him.

“Yeah, thanks, Buck.” You smiled. Christ. Your smile. So bright, and genuine, and beautiful. It was his favorite thing to see on your face. He smiled back. Something soft, genuine, but gentle.

“No problem, sweets. Can’t believe no one came n’ helped ya sooner.” He grinned. Ever the tease. The charm. The flirt. His Brooklyn accent was enough to make your head spin. It was so effortlessly him. Nothing mechanic, or programmed.

“What do you got planned this week?” Bucky indulged in small talk. He hated small talk. Unless it was with you. He set the groceries down, handling it himself as you chatted his ear off.

“Oh! I gotta do the dry cleaning for the tower, arrange a few meetings for Tony, and…” You drawled out the word. You didn’t like telling Bucky about things between you and your boyfriend. You didn’t like to involve him in that.

“—got a big dinner planned on Saturday with my boyfriend.” You finished. Bucky stiffened but he didn’t miss a beat. He didn’t want you to know how much he hated the thought of you with someone else.

So he plastered a fake grin, not the soft one he held earlier. His teeth were gritted. His jaw clenched as he finished unloading the groceries.

“That’s nice, doll. Real nice.” He gritted out, maintaining every inch of composure he could muster. He didn’t wait for a response, he just turned and left. You quirked a brow. Bucky didn’t ever leave a room with you first. Really, never. You always initiated the ‘goodbye’.

“Uh, okay, bye!” You called after him, utterly confused on what his deal was. Steve glanced at him knowingly as he stormed by, beelining straight for his room within the tower.

————————————————————

Saturday was a nightmare.

Firstly, you had no clue what to wear. Everything you put on made you feel horrendous about yourself. Sometimes the fabric would grip your stomach pudge, sometimes your stretch marks were showing, sometimes your thighs looked gigantic and you felt simply terrible.

Finally, you find the perfect dress. It’s black and sparkly. It highlights your curves, not your flaws (what you think are flaws), and pairs perfectly with your matching strap heels and purse. Your body looks fantastic and you feel like you can finally breathe again. You take at least five spins in the mirror (yes, your butt looks good too), and when you finally decided you’ve twirled enough you head to the fancy restaurant.

You take a seat at your reserved table, excitement tumbling out of you. You can only picture your boyfriend’s reaction to how good you look. Maybe he’ll drop to his knees, maybe he’ll kiss you so hard your breath is stolen, maybe he’ll even pay the full bill. What a dream.

You’re a drop-dead, beautiful goddess. And your boyfriend is… late. Not even late. He doesn’t show.

You’ve been stood up. You call him, text him, and you get no response. You check his location. It’s off.

You’re not scared, you don’t think he’s ‘hurt’ or bleeding out in an alley. You think he’s cheating.

You don’t think, you know. It’s a gut-feeling. An instinct. You’re certain you’re right. That’s when you receive the picture.

You don’t recognize the number, it’s unsaved. It’s a photo of some girl sucking your boyfriend off. All she sends along with it is two winking emojis. You’re pissed.

You spent the better half of two hours doing your makeup, finding the perfect dress, choosing the right heals and bag… You’ve been waiting at the restaurant for an hour.

You storm out furiously. No waiters or servers try to stop you, you’re headed straight for Stark Tower with a clenched jaw and gritted teeth. You slam your car door shut and storm into the elevator. You hit the button for Bucky’s floor. Tears start brimming in the corner of your eyes before you’re brushing them back.

You’re angry. Pissed. A little relived. You get an excuse to go sleep with Bucky. You’re not insecure. You don’t fear he might not want you. You just want to teach that asshole a lesson. And you want it to be Bucky. Because your boyfriend hates Bucky.

You knock on the door once. Twice. He answers. “Sam, what the hel—“ He begins to chastise, then he sees you. You’re gorgeous. Your dress clings to every curve. Your ass, your breasts, your thick thighs… He could bust right now. He can even see the highlight of your stomach pudge poking out and it turns him on.

He liked his women bigger. He hated the 40’s. Everyone following the same beauty standards, trying to all be as thin as paper. He loved that you were womanly. With a womanly figure. It takes him a second to realize how mad you are and how you’re pushing past him into his apartment. Your eyes were glassy, he notices.

“Oh, fuck, sweetheart.” He sighs. He shuts the door and is pulling you into one of his—much needed—bear hugs. His large hands cradle the back of your head, pressing you against his hard chest. He’s beefy. You can feel his muscles pressing against you. “What happened, doll?” He murmurs. His voice so soft it could lull a baby to sleep.

You take a few deep breaths to collect yourself. The tears finally stop flooding and you lift your head off his chest.

“I-I got all dressed up, got to the restaurant and just sat there. Alone. For an hour.” You sniffled. Bucky nodded, his gentle blue eyes peering into yours, wordlessly coaxing more information out of you.

“He stood me up! I texted, I called, he didn’t answer. Then I get this!” You exclaim, your voice cracking as you showing Bucky the message the girl sent you. Bucky repulses. He’s… small. He wants to laugh, but he knows better right about now.

“—I even did a full body shave, Buck. Thinkin’ maybe, just maybe, he’d want to finally fuck me when he saw me lookin’ s’good.” You complained. Bucky nodded along, criticizing himself mentally for the way his cock twitched and his eyes darkened at your words.

“Listen to me, sweetheart. Any man that wouldn’t want to fuck you, at all. Is a fool. And an ass.” Bucky grunted. His large hands gripped your waist, pulling your curves flush against him. He tried to ignore how good your hips felt under his hands.

Just comfort her, Bucky. His brain would remind. Don’t be a horny asshole right now. He shamed himself.

“You are the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen. Y’hear me? I’m sorry he did that, baby. Shoulda’ called me. Woulda’ came n’ ate with you. Showered you in compliments.” He murmured so sweetly your chest ached.

“I just want you to make me feel better, Buck.” Your voice dropped, suggesting at something much more than a friend comforting a friend.

Bucky stiffened. His eyes blown with lust. His hands gripping your hips tightly.

“Plus… I need a picture to send back.”

That’s how Bucky got you undressed and was trying to convince you to ride his face.

“C’mon, doll. What a better way to get back at ‘em than to sit on my face?” He teased playfully. He was still dress at the center of the bed, now propped up on two elbows as he saw your hesitation.

“Need help, baby?” He purred as he saw you begin to undo the straps to your heels. You nodded with a little pout. He grinned as patted his thigh, prompting you to put your foot there, in which you did.

He slowly began to undo the strap to your heels, gazing up at you lovingly as he planted little kisses along your ankles.

“Even painted ya’ toes, huh?” He teased playfully, watching as you erupted into a fit of laughter. He loved your laugh. It had to be one of the best sounds heaven could bring to him.

“Oh, shut up.” You giggled as he finally peeled off your heels, leaving you completely bare. He practically scrambled back to his position on the bed as he awaited you charmingly.

“Please, sweetheart? Just wanna live between those pretty thighs of yours.” He pleaded. You whimpered at his words. Slowly, hesitantly, you crawled onto the bed, up his body.

“Jus’ smother me in your pretty cunt, please?” He murmured. That did it. You stubbornly climb your way up his body till your dripping cunt was approaching his mouth and he groaned.

“Jesus Christ, baby.” He breathed at the sight of your soaked pussy. Gorgeous. Undeniably mouth-watering. He was so ready to drown in you.

“You’re gonna tell me if you can’t breathe, right? Don’t wanna crush you.” You murmur, whining as his breath ghosted over your cunt. You’re dripping over his chin, and you’re worried about suffocating him?

“No, i’m not, doll. Just gonna sit there and take it. Like I should.” He rasped. You can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not. You’re sure he’s serious. Because he is. He would gladly die between your legs.

You’re hesitant as you adjust on top of him. You don’t want to hurt Bucky, really.

“C’mon, baby, just sit on my fuckin’ face ‘fore I make you.” He huffs as your thighs shake on either side of his head, desperately trying not to clamp down on his head.

Before you can protest, he’s pushing you down onto his awaiting mouth.

“James, I—ahh!” You moan as his tongue connects with your dripping sex. He cut you off expertly, grinning against you smugly as he begins to suckle on your clit.

You’re a moaning, whimpering, mess.

Your hands fly to his hair, entangling in the brown locks.

When your thighs tighten around his head, he groans and his hips buck upward to meet nothing, only causing another groan to spill from his lips.

“Fuck me.” He gasps as he pulls off your cunt, his lips glistening and chin wet with your slick. He could bust right now, your cunt is that sweet. It’s enough to get him off. “Let’s get me picture-perfect first, sweetheart. Not sure i’m gonna last any longer like this.” He grins charmingly. You chew down on your bottom lip as you grab your phone, fingers trembling.

“Alright, c’mon Bucky, pose.” You tease playfully as Bucky laughs.

His large hands are on your thighs, prying you open for him, his mouth is enveloping your cunt hungrily, his nose bumping against your clit, his hair is a bit messy in all the best ways, and his eyes, that’s what makes the picture. His eyes are piercing, hooded, dark. Eyebrows stern and you shudder at the picture.

The picture is perfect. In every entity of the word. It captures everything about Bucky. His desire is easy to spot. You send it back to the number, then to your boyfriend for good measures.

He eagerly gets back to work when you’re satisfied with the photo. “Go ahead n’ send it to me too, doll.” He grins as he delves back in your cunt. His nose bumps your cunt and you moan whorishly. It’s wanton and It makes him groan against you.

When he redoubles his efforts, you’re practically bucking against his face. He’s grunting and gasping against your cunt, unable to contain himself as his cock is throbbing and thrusting against the confines of his pants.

He groans quietly, each delicious drag of his lips and tongue making you shudder. He holds you down on him, face buried in your pussy. He sucks gently on your clit, then circles it with his tongue, only to trail down and flutter it against your throbbing cunt.

You gasp as your back arches and you roll your hips. Your stomach coils and your thighs tense. Bucky groans softly as you ride his face, grinding and dragging your cunt over his tongue. He grips your hips tightly and guides your motion, controlling your pace.

“S’beautiful, baby, could die happily between these thighs.” He rasps. You’re so close to coming it’s intoxicating. You’re chasing your high with vigorous need. Your hips buck just right and hit his tongue and nose at the perfect spot.

“Fuck, James!” You cry as you squirm and convulse on his tongue. He doesn’t waste a single drop of your sweet cum. He’s lapping it up eagerly and filthy slurping at your cunt. You’re whining as he finally releases you from his iron-grip.

He pulls back and his cunt and mouth are dripping with your essence. He presses sweet little kisses to your thighs that surround his head. He adores how thick they are, lavishing your stretch marks in worshipping attention.

“Thought I was gonna cream my pants, sweetheart. That’s how good your cunt is.” He mumbles against your thighs as his own lips trail down your body. He nips at your skin hungrily. He needs more.

Your hands rest on his chest, holding yourself up with a whine as he teased you.

Bucky adores having your weight on top of him. He would flip you around, give you the fucking you deserve, but he wants you to ride him, first. He wants to feel your weight on top of him before he truly fucks you.

“Gonna give me another, doll? Jus’ want you to ride me, yeah? S’not hard. I’ll help you.” He murmurs pleadingly. You don’t have to time to protest before he’s gripping you by your hips and lifting you up and off his face to his own hips.

The breath is knocked out of your lungs. He’s not struggling. He’s not flaunting his strength or flexing. He just effortlessly lifted you, all arms, and sat you above the tent of his pants.

It makes a whole new wave of arousal wash over you, and it shows on his pants. He glances down at the wet patch with a predatory grin that says everything you need to know.

He’s figured you out.

You don’t give them the time to tease you because your grinding your wet cunt against the crotch of his pants, making him groan and glare at you.

“Doll.” He warns. You shush him playfully as you continue to shamelessly grind yourself against the dent in his pants.

His metal armed grips your hips, the cool metal clashing against your warm skin. It’s pleasant and welcomed. You whine, not sure if you’re teasing him or yourself at this point.

“How ‘bout you have the real thing, sweetheart?” He murmurs and before you know it, he’s lifting you off his crotch and unfastening his belt. He tugs down his pants as you pull off his shirt, revealing him to your eyes.

He’s magnificent, of course. There’s scars and gashes along his torso, only serving to make him more sexy in your opinion.

You lean down, pressing a kiss to one of his larger scars along his stomach. He suppresses a whine from under you. He knew you would kiss his scars.

“You’re so handsome.” You smile as you press another lingering kiss. Bucky could stay like this for hours, but he needs you.

“Stop teasin’.” He huffs, even with his dopey grin on full display. You laugh softly as you crawl down his body.

Your hands dip beneath his waistband, still a tease as you slowly, agonizingly, tug the material down his body. His cock eagerly slaps up against his stomach when it’s freed from his boxers.

Despite how his hands are twitching at his sides, Bucky lets you set the pace. He wants you too feel worshipped. Pretty, admired, adored, everything that asshole ex of yours couldn’t do. Wants to prove why he’s better.

Firstly, his cock is a lot bigger. It’s an undeniable fact. He’s thick and long, a vein running down the base to make you shiver.

Slowly, teasingly, you sink onto his cock. He hisses, head rolling back into the pillow. His hands fly to your hips, guiding you as you take his cock.

The stretch is immense. You whimper as you sink onto him, panting.

“Oh, fuck,” You breathed. Bucky cursed beneath you as you set a slow, torturous, pace. Every roll of your hips was euphoric. Bucky was fighting every single nerve inside of his body to just pick you up and slam you back down on his dick, setting a new pace.

“feels s’good.” You slur as you pick up the pace. It’s not enough for him. He’s filling you up. He can see himself in your tummy as he rests two hands under his head, propping him up slightly.

After a few more rolls of his hips, he really can’t take it anymore.

Honestly, you’re surprised he lasted this long.

“Jus’ sit there and take it, baby. Lemme help.” He murmurs as he picks you up and slams you back down on his dick. He sets a brutal pace, fucking up into you as you bounce on top of him.

You moan and whine as he finally slowly back down. His tempo is maddening. One second he’s manhandling you up and down him, the next he’s gazing up into you lovingly as you rock back and forth.

It’s amazing.

“B-buck, James, fuck.” You babble. One hand slides up you body, thumbing at your nipples and cupping your heavy chest. You moan softly for him. So sweetly, his own personal choir.

“Yeah, I know, doll.” He grins smugly as you roll your eyes. He sets his faster pace back into action, making your eyes roll in a different kind of way.

You whine as his hand leaves your chest to play with your clit. You’re positive you won’t last any longer, Bucky knows. He can feel you. He knows it’s just a matter of time.

His thumbs laps lazily at your clit as he bounces you on top of him. Your weight is so comforting to him. The constant ‘fight or flight’ in his mind subsides. His heart isn’t thumping, per usual. He’s not scared or anticipating the next strike.

“Gonna give me another, sweetheart? Wanna feel it. You’re grippin’ onto me like you don’t want to let go.” He rasps. You whine. You don’t last much longer with his cock dragging along your walls, his thumb teasing your clit, and his words making your whole body vibrate.

You clench around him one last time and with a deafening cry you collapse for him. It’s magical to watch you come undone, and he can feel his balls twitching, urging him to let go as well.

He doesn’t. He wants this night to last for you. Plus, his stamina is insane. He plans on taking you over and over till you physically can’t anymore.

“There ya’ go. Let it all out f’me.” He murmurs as he slowly stops your rocking on top of him. You whine as your cum gushes out of you, trialing down his cock and across his abdomen.

You’re not done.

He knows it.

He’s going to have you cum again on his cock.

Before you can process, he’s capturing your lips in a wind-stealing kiss as he swiftly switches your positions. Your beautiful hair splayed out across his pillow as he grins down at you.

“Just one more, m’promise.” He coo’s sweetly. You’re not sure if he’s mocking you or being sarcastic at this point. Your brain is a haze. The only thing you know is when his thrusts start again, so do your moans.

“I love you, doll.”

—————————————————————

you can do nothing by moan and take it. you’re an overstimulated mess below him and he knows it. he hasn’t came at all tonight. but he’s about to. he groans as he feels the coil in his stomach tighten. and that’s when it happens.

“moy angel, ona tak khorosho ko mne otnositsya.” (my angel, she’s taking me so well). he grunts. you have little to no clue what he saying. but he’s so sexy when he says it, you clench around him and he groans as he ruts deeper into you.

”vyzhimayesh' iz menya vsyu zhizn', kukolka. oshchushcheniye potryasayushcheye.” (squeezing the life out of me, doll. feels amazing.) he rumbles. he’s not even doing this to get you off. he barely even recognizes the fact that he’s tumbling out russian. you clench again as your head lolls back and he knows he won’t make it much longer.

“posmotri na nas. posmotri, kak ty dobr ko mne, poka ya konchayu.” (look at us. look at how good you are for me while i cum). he grunts. he doesn’t understand why you don’t look. that you don’t know what he’s saying. he simply figures it’s because your so overstimulated, not because he’s speaking a different language.

he grabs the back of your head with enough force that your eyes jolt to where his cock had been ramming you deep into your shared bed. you moan at the sight. bucky groans, hand in your hair as he cums inside of you. you watch, transfixed as his seed glides along your folds.

you pant as your head falls back and be lays down on top of you, suffocating you with his weight that you welcome.

“perfect, gorgeous. that’s all you are for me.” he breathlessly smiled. you figured you’d tell him about his little habit later. how he can only babble russian when he’s balls deep inside of you and about to cum.

————————————————————

It had been three days since your gruesome breakup. And you were already feeling amazing.

You realized your ex was holding you back from so many things. All you did together was sit on the couch and watch tv, now that he was out the house, you couldn’t stop moving.

Today your girls were taking you out to some expensive gala. Something your ex couldn’t even afford to look at. It felt right.

You felt powerful. All dressed up and cute. Your dress was stunning. It flaunted your curves perfectly. You were never allowed to wear anything too short or tight with your ex, but you’re a free woman now. And you looked beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous. And the best part was, you knew it. You were practically radiating confidence.

You saw him sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of straight whiskey. He was the embodiment of a man. Sleek but burly. Masculine but not cocky.

You noticed his vibranium arm. Black and gold, concealed by the sleeve of his suit. You’re not sure if that should have scared you off, or drawled you in. Either way, you found yourself approaching him.

“Can I buy you a drink, handsome?” You smiled, sliding into the seat next to him at the bar. The man cocked a brow before grinning with a chuckle.

He would’ve been offended had you not been so beautiful.

“I’m pretty sure that’s my job, sweetheart.” He purred. You hummed. You let your eyes rake over him subtly. His hair was slicked back, a stray lock falling out, paired with a sleek suit and a bow tie to top it off. He was tall. Even when sitting down. “What are you drinkin’, doll?” He rumbled, clinking his glass against the bar top.

You told him what you wanted and he ordered it without question. He didn’t expect anything. You two made excellent conversation, surprisingly. He was rather quiet but charming nonetheless. The silence between you wasn’t awkward but rather comforting.

“So,” You drawled out the word, drawing Bucky’s attention back to you. “You takin’ anyone home tonight? Or is the spot still open?” You hummed, swirling your drink a bit before taking another sip as Bucky laughs.

“Sweetheart, I’m twice your age.” He reminded, stiffening. “Why don’t cha’ go for someone your own age, gorgeous?” He inquired. You chewed on your bottom lip. Liquid courage was the devil. And it had a wicked hold on you.

“Guys my age don’t know how to keep me.” You murmured. Bucky’s eyes darkened a notch. It was wrong. He was about a decade older than you, technically. Well, his body was. But fuck you were a pretty little thing. “Wanna be treated right.” You sighed playfully. Even if it was the truth.

“Yeah? Need some lovin’, doll?” He breathed. Your cunt throbbed a consistent rhythm at his breathlessness. He stared you down with his piercing blue eyes as he took another swig of whiskey. He didn’t feel the burn anymore. Hell, he wasn’t even drunk. Just buzzed. And hard.

“Mhm.” You purred, chewing on your inner cheek. You took the opportunity to sip your drink, hiding your blush from his cold gaze for more than two seconds. He intrigued you. And Bucky was a good-looking man. Old-school. For sure.

“C’mon, dollface. Let’s get you out of this cute little dress.”

—————————————————————

That’s how you ended up in Bucky’s apartment, surrounded by his scent driving you up a damn wall at every turn.

You’d been to plenty of guys’ places before. None of them were so delectable. It smelled like heaven in there, had you been a teenager your hormones would have been out of wack.

It smelled masculine. It made you want to set back feminism a few years.

Despite his words, he held you like a woman. Gentle like you were made out of glass. Not some little girl he could throw around. (even though he could throw you around if he wanted too).

You were on him like crazy. As soon as you entered his apartment you took his collar and brought him down to your height, kissing him with such passion he could drown in it. He grunted against your mouth as he kissed you back. You heard the slam of a door as he walked you backwards.

“Careful, gorgeous.” He growled against your jaw. You could only assume Bucky had snapped so many jaws before. Yet he handle yours with such care. “Might bite off more than you can chew.” He hummed. You grinned. As if it were a challenge.

“I hope so.” You breathed in defiance. Bucky grinned. Before you knew it, he was hoisting your body upwards, your legs instinctively wrapping around him and his hands greedily kneaded your ass as he brought you to the kitchen counter.

He set you down with a cheeky grin. He stepped between your thighs and you were so ready to be railed. But instead he did something completely unexpected.

He dropped to his knees. His 6-foot-4-self sank to his knees. For you. He fell to his knees before you. He had a vibranium arm, military training, had killed hundreds of men, and he was practically submitting to you.

You whined in protest as he spread your legs and bunched up your dress around your hips. You wanted to be fucked.

“Bucky—“

“You wanted an older man, didn’t you, gorgeous?”

“Yeah, but—“

“Older men like to eat pussy, doll.”

You whimpered at his filthy words. That was truly all the convincing you need as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your clothed cunt. Your panties were ruined. The lacy pink fabric soaked through.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” He cursed, your cunt throbbed beneath your lingerie. He groaned as he slowly slid the material down your luscious thighs. He wanted you to suffocate him. To drown him in your pussy.

“Prettiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.” He murmured as his eyes were transfixed in your cunt. Your folds. Your clit. Everything.

“Can I touch her, baby? Please?” He pleaded weakly. You breathe, captivated, you don’t even realize he’s begging you to give you pleasure till he speaks again.

“Please, doll. Want to make her feel good, i’ll be so sweet, make you forget about all those boys you’ve—“ Bucky is practically in a trance. He doesn’t notice you shaking your head, telling him it’s okay. “—had, m’promise i’ll make her feel better. She’s drippin’ f’me and—“

“Buck, please, yes,” You pant. His eyes darken as his cheeks flush a tint. You’re used to men taking your pussy, acting as if it’s theirs. Bucky doesn’t. He’s begging for it. Begging to make you feel good.

When his tongue connects with your cunt, it’s pure bliss. You moan obscenely as he suckles on your clit. You gasp, your hands running to his hair as you tug on it, making him groan against your cunt.

His once slicked hair is becoming much more messier under your greedy hands. His mouth envelopes around your pussy, making you whine.

“She’s s’wet.” He praises against your cunt, muffled by the sound of his mouth on you and your desperate moans from above him.

You’re practically incoherent as his expert tongue delves into you, making you rethink every other man you’ve been with.

Before you know it, Bucky is grabbing your ass and hoisting you up again. You’re entirely on him now. His hands support most of your weight and his nose bumps against your clit, making an outlandish moan rip from deep within you. Your legs wrap around his head, rested on his shoulders, fulfilling his dream of suffocating between his thighs.

“B-bucky, oh fuck!” You hiss as his nose somehow hits that spot again against your clit. You’re coming instantly. Your hands curled into his hair, exploding onto his eager tongue. He groans in approval as he laps up all of your juices. Effectively, he stimulates you.

You’re panting as he disconnects from your cunt, gently placing you back on the counter.

He grins at you smugly as he licks his lips, collecting your final remains of slick.

“Delicious, doll. Made me wanna cum in my pants like a damn teenager.” He laughs. You chuckle breathlessly, still collecting yourself after that mind-shattering orgasm. Your legs already feel numb and you doubt you’re going to last the rest of the night like this.

“Y’alright, sweetheart?” He hums. Of course he knows he’s good at eating pussy. He knows your brain is a haze. His lips and chin are glistening. The tip of his nose still has your arousal on it. You’re not sure if you’ll ever be ‘alright’ again.

“Yeah—yeah i’m okay, just want you t’fuck me now.” You whine. Bucky laughs breathlessly. If his dick is anything like his tongue, you’re sure you’re going to see white by the end of this encounter.

He helps you out of your dress, determined to reveal all of you to his gaze. Now your clad in only a pink, lace bra, and he is still fully clothed besides his tie in which he had ripped off earlier.

Bucky takes off his suit jacket and you want to drool. His muscles are revealed, as well as his vibranium arm. It’s supposed to be intimidating, but it only serves to turn you on more. His white undershirt is rolled up to his forearms, making him look the picture of gruff elegance tied into one.

Your eager to undress him but you let him set the torturous pace. You decided to complain once he takes his sweet time with his belt.

“You’re takin’ forever.” You complain. It’s childish and a whine but he simply sends you a look that shuts you up fast.

“That’s the problem with your generation, sweetheart.” He drawls, making you roll your eyes at his old-man-ness. “—You’re so impatient. Especially while you’re still drippin’ all over my counter.” He huffs as he takes off his shirt. He’s scarred over his chest. Bruises, gashes, everything. It makes you want to lick him of his wounds clean. But you control yourself for the most part as he’s slowly shagging down his dress slacks.

“That’s the problem with your generation.” You begin, mirroring his words in a teasing manner. “You take too long to fuck the girl on your counter.” You remind. Bucky grins and crashes his lips against yours. He’s kissing you breathless while shrugging off his boxers. The multi-tasking of it way more hotter than it should be.

He leaves you panting and breathless, stripping you of all further remarks as your finally met with the sight of his cock. He’s hung. Absurdly so. Your mouth waters and your cunt drools. Part of you is scared of him breaking you in half, the other is anticipating for when he finally gets inside of you and makes you scream. He’s thick as he is long. Practically made by heaven itself.

He effortlessly pulls you to the edge of the counter as he runs his tip through your sopping wet folds.

“Much better, doll. Finally some peace and quiet.” He teases, earning himself a glare from you, followed by a whimper as he inches it deeper. You gasp as he slowly pushes inside of you, his eyes watching himself as he enters your accommodating warmth.

Both of you can feel the stretch as he’s finally balls-deep inside of you.

It’s maddening.

Bucky groans as his head falls to your neck. He gives you a second, like the gentlemen he is. You notice his dog tags are still on, the only article of clothing left on his body. He must have tucked them beneath his suit. They’re present now. And your fascinated.

Suddenly, he thrusts, and you lose all train of thought.

You’re practically a babbling mess as he fucks you. He’s a completely different man inside of your cunt. As he picks up the pace, you can hardly make out what he’s saying.

“Fuck. You’re so tight. She feels amazin’, doll, I could bust at any damn second.” He curses. Your head rolls back as his thrusts cause your whole body to shake. It feels amazing. There’s not other word for it besides euphoric.

“What do you need, gorgeous?” He rasps, his voice rough as gravel as his tip kisses your cervix. You gasp as he finds that spot within you. You’re officially teetering on the edge of a vision-blurring orgasm as he laughs slowly.

“Oh, that’s it, yeah? Right there? Oh, fuck, it is.” He groans as he abuses your special spot. You gasp and moan. Your about to cum, you can feel the coil inside of you threatening to snap.

“Please, let me cum.” You beg, your voice hoarse from all the moaning you’ve done tonight. Buckys eyes shoot to yours. There slightly wide, piercing.

“Let you?” He repeats. He’s practically offended. He scoffs and curses beneath his breath. “Dollface, you’re the one letting me fuck you. Cum f’me.” He murmurs. You’re too busy screaming around his cock to care if he’s truly offended or not.

“Bucky!” You cry, followed by a string of moans. You clamp down hard on him. He groans and curses beneath his breath. It’s russian and you have no damn clue what he’s saying, but it sounds so good it pulls another whimper from you as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“Takaya krasivaya veshch', ya sobirayus' tebya pogubit'.” (such a pretty thing, i plan to ruin you). He rasps. He barely slows down as he fucks you deep. You realize he’s going to coax another orgasm from you, and your a babbling mess.

“C-can’t, can’t, I-I, pl-ease.” You incoherently whine. Bucky grunts. He knows you can. If it was serious he’d stop, no questions asked, but he wants to see your limit.

“You can, sweetheart. Guys your age didn’t know how to touch you, right? Gotta take what I give you now, doll.” He rumbles, you gasp but nod. You want to be good for him. You’re so overstimulated but you fight off the cloud of haze threatening to fog your mind. You whine and nod as his hands find your heavy chest.

He leans down, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking generously as his metal hand pinches and plays with your other tit, equalizing the attention as best as he can. He pulls back with a wet ‘pop’ and a grin before repeating his actions on the other side. “Perfect.” He rasps against you, forgetting about where else you two are connected.

You clench around him and he groans, bringing his attention back to what matters most. He pulls back with a dark glint in his eye. He’s getting close. And as he gets close, his mouth gets filthier.

“Offered to buy me a damn drink.” He grumbles as he ruts into you, you moan softly, you can barely understand his mumbling as your eyes screw shut. “What else do you do, doll? Pay on the first date? Hold open the door for these boys you’re with?” He rasps. It’s nearly a growl. He’s practically feral.

“Slid next to me lookin’ like sin wrapped in silk. Pretty fuckin’ girl.” He groaned and tilted his head back. You cum again, milking him for all he’s worth. He didn’t mean to cum inside. But he does. And he doesn’t stop.

You moan in pleasure as he fills you up. If it had been any other one night stand, you would’ve lost it. But you’re on the pill. And it feels so good.

He pants as he slowly pulls out, leaving your combined seeds dripping onto his counter as you both breathe for a moment together. He leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Luckily for you, Bucky doesn’t do one night stands.

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hii lovelies! ty for reading, as always reqs are open and appreciated💘. (i write for loki, bucky, steve and either weasley twin)

“Please, Odin.” Your voice croaked. Hands and knees, begging for some advice, a sign, anything.

Loki watched with hooded eyes in the shadows. He knew his father would be ignoring your pleas. He always did. His father was probably on the throne right now, growing fat and drinking, not paying attention to one of his most devoted worshippers.

“Please, I need your wisdom, oh, merciful god.” You begged, face falling into your hands as your knees gave out. Odin wasn’t answering. He never did. The God of Wisdom was ignoring your pleas. But Loki wasn’t.

“I have plentiful wisdom myself, darling. Why don’t you pray to me instead?” The voice purred, emerging from the shadows. There he stood. The God of Mischief. Tall, imposing, radiating power, dressed to the Nine in Asgardian leather and armor.

Silence fell between the two of you. Your eyes wide like an innocent deer, looking the picture of an innocent worshipper. Loki chuckled at your silence. Scared little thing.

“I-I must be hallucinating.” You murmured to yourself, shocked as you sat up on your knees before the god. You must have lost track in the church. How long had it been since you’ve drank water? Hours? This simply must be the product of dehydration. Or perhaps you had fallen asleep?

“Please, darling, don’t stop on my accord. Plead to the god that answered you this time.” Loki grinned, Cheshire cat-like. Mischievous. Obviously. You were hesitant but you obeyed your god. You bowed your head again, placing it on the back of your hands as you began to pray.

“Please, Loki, God of Mischief, son of Odin—“ You began as you always did. Loki grunted as he interrupted.

“—Frigga.” He corrected. You paused, lifting your head before nodding and continuing. You cleared your throat. It was beginning to grow raw.

“—son of Frigga.” You paused again, waiting for further corrections but you were met with a hum of approval. “Please, mischievous god. Provide me with your wisdom. Help me through my strife. In your name I pray, Loki.” You finished. Your cheeks were flushed of embarrassment as Loki hummed and nodded.

A beat of silence stretched before the two of you as he spoke again.

“When was the last time a god answered your prayers like this, little girl?” Loki inquired even though he knew the answer. He squatted down, placing a slender digit below your chin and lifting it upwards to meet his piercing gaze.

“Never, sir. Not like this.” You mumbled back, voice tiny like a mouse. Loki nodded with a grin.

“I figured.” He retorted playfully before standing once more. You stood as well, but the god still towered over you, invading your personal space. “You are a beautiful worshipper, love. Never strayed far from your faith, hmm?” He continued, slowly walking you backwards till your back hit the wall of the sanctuary.

“N-no. Never.” You stammered. Loki noticed how utterly flustered you grew, and it was simply adorable to him. He chuckled. A deep, rumbling noise from within his broad chest.

“Such a devoted, pretty thing. In Asgard we go to war for woman like you.” He hummed lowly, enforcing proximity between the two of you. You didn’t dare try to fight off the god. Not the god you had worshipped since you could speak.

“Are you afraid of me, darling?” Loki spoke up again. You shook your head. You weren’t afraid. You were grateful. Grateful a god had finally answered your prayers. Loki chuckled. He could see so much more for you. “You should be.” He stated plainly. You knew it was true. But you weren’t scared, surprisingly.

“You pray to these gods that never answer. They view you as a weak mortal. Someone who sings their praises without a morsel of credit.” Loki sneered. Not necessarily at you. But the words packed a punch in your gut. “They laugh at you. They don’t appreciate your efforts. How long have you been in this sanctuary, today alone?” Loki murmured, twisting a stray lock of your hair before releasing it with a grin. He didn’t put it back in place. He left it out. A sign that you weren’t perfect. That nothing was.

“Around 5 hours, my god.” You responded, your voice wavering. Surely the gods didn’t mock you. They appreciated you. A dedicated worshipper. Loki was the God of Deception. You wouldn’t let him deceive you.

“I can see so much for you, darling. You’re far from a weakling. You could be a goddess, if you wanted.” He mumbled against your ear, nipping at a spot just below it, pulling a sweet gasp from your lips. “The goddess of innocence, perhaps.” He laughed teasingly. You gulped despite yourself. Your veins craved power, but you had always fought it.

“I could give it to you, in fact. Is that what you want, sweet thing? All you must do is unleash that fire for me.” He grinned. He could see the flicker of fierceness in your eyes. The way you would force your eyes to dart instead of meet his. It was blasphemy to challenge a god. But you naturally wanted to. It was an instinct that you fought to suppress.

“I-I’m not sure.” You lied. You had nothing in this world. All you did was pray. Sometimes you didn’t even know what for. But you were determined to remain devoted. He grinned before tutting.

“You can not deceive me, love. Did my sweet worshipper forget what god she was talking to?” He teased with a malicious grin. His large hands ran over your body like a virtue. He noticed your gaze lingering on his wandering palms. His fingers. How they brushed against you with care even if they had inflicted so much pain.

“These hands have brought down realms, yet you look at them with such adoration. My sweet thing, do you know how I could make you a goddess?” Loki purred. He was a sin wrapped in honey, and you were entangled with him. He was like an enchantment, wrapping himself around you till you squealed.

“No, my god… I don’t.” You hesitated, eyes flickering up to him. He grinned down at you. His ravenous hair tickling your jaw as he leaned in closer.

“It would require you to be a virgin, darling. I’m sure you are, are you not?” Loki laughed, he already knew the answer. You nodded anyway, cheeks flushing out of embarrassment. Norns you were sweet. He couldn’t wait to devour you.

“No need to be shy, sweet thing. Since you are a virgin, a gods seed will transform you into a goddess. Only in your virgin cunt, will it work.” He grinned. It wasn’t true. A gods seed in your throat would work just fine. But Loki wanted your cunt. (plus there would be plenty time for that later).

“I’m going to have your sweet pussy either way, darling. It’s just a matter of will I cum inside of you, or not.” He inquired mockingly. You shuddered beneath his gaze. A deer in headlights. Your voice seemed to die in your throat.

“You don’t have to answer now, sweet thing. Your body will tell me.” He nodded. You hadn’t noticed his long digits inching closer to your cunt, how his hand had slipped beneath your skirt. You had been so captivated by the god before you. You hadn’t known he was that close to your cunt till you felt two fingers slip inside of your wet heat. To the knuckle.

His face contorted into an ‘o’ at your tight cunt. Grinning as he breathed out while you whimpered. He prepped you, slowly scissoring his fingers and curling them inside of you.

“My sweet mortal, you are soaked for your god.” He hissed. You panted, your head lolling back to the sturdy wall behind you. “Oh, I could get addicted to you. Trust me, you don’t want that, love. I’m not a very merciful god.” He snickered. He was stretching your walls out, your slick dripping down his wrist as he added another digit. You cried out a moan, gasping and panting.

“Oh, f-… Loki!” You moaned. He barked out a laugh. Even in the thorough of ecstasy you refused to curse. Loki didn’t view it as sin, but more stricter gods did. He chuckled as your gummy walls wrapped snugly around his invading digits.

“You will make the perfect goddess. Cum for me, darling.” He rasped. You obeyed. You clamped down on his fingers. You had fingered yourself before, but you had never been able to orgasm. You came with a cry—almost a plea—of his name as you squirted around his digits. “This simply must be an offering to your god.” He mumbled to himself, referring to your orgasm as you milked his fingers.

You panted as he fucked you through your orgasm. Slowly, he pulled his hand from out of you, beneath your skirt, to his lips. He groaned around his own fingers. Truly, everything about you was devastatingly sweet.

“Like aphrodisiac, sweet girl.” He praised. You panted, your breath coming in shallow as you recollected yourself from the mind-shattering orgasm.

“A kiss, please?” You babbled. Loki’s eyes widened a fraction before chuckling. He leaned in, a hand wrapping around the back of your neck, bringing you to meet his lips as he kissed you. It wasn’t nice or loving, it was dominating. Almost like a battle. You let him win.

“Darling, goddesses’ don’t beg. Less it be to their husbands. They take what they want.” Loki explained gently, a teasing lilt to his voice. You nodded, chewing down on your bottom lip. You surged forward. Hungry. You sought out his lips, reconnecting them with the fire he had been searching for all day.

In an instant, he was returning your fire. He pinned your hands above your head with one of his large ones, dominating you in the rough kiss before pulling away with a dark glint in his eyes.

“Fuck me.” You demanded. He grinned, practically groaning at your new attitude. The tent in his pants was growing rather obvious, and he was desperately eager.

“What would your gods think, darling?” He teased mockingly as you shot him a harmless glare. He had dreamed of the day he would finally be able to claim you. He had touched himself as he watched you pray to him. He had came in his pants like a teenage mortal at the sight of you on your hands and knees; begging.

With a snap of his fingers, green magic swirled around you two, stripping you both of your clothes, baring each other to the others’ gaze. You let your eyes rake over him defiantly. He was beautiful. Not just his cock, him, in general.

“There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin.” You breathed to yourself. A prophecy from gods before Loki’s time, millennium's before your own. He grunted in response as he lined himself up. He ran his angry-red tip through your dripping folds, coating himself in your slick.

“Only then, I am human, only then, I am clean.” He murmured. More lines of the forgotten prophecy. You moaned as he pushed himself in. Gasping and clawing at his naked back. He groaned, leaning his head between your shoulder and neck.

“So fuckin’ tight, sweet thing. Let me in.” He grunted. You gasped as he pushed in deeper. Your backside pressed against the cold tavern of the sanctuary.

Finally, he was fully inside of your heat. You panted as he gave you time to adjust. He wasn’t merciful, you knew this was his last act of mercy before he pounded into you. You took it graciously.

He began to thrust into you, grunting as he fucked you against the wall. You hadn’t notice him lifting your body up, how your legs had wrapped around his waist, bringing him closer to you. He was effortless as he held you up. His cock pounding into you. His tip kissing your cervix.

“Ahh—fuck, I—Loki!” You babbled, gasping and whimpering as his delicious cock split you open. You were so overstimulated. Your cunt clenched to him like a life line.

”This cunt was made specially by the gods—” He slurred, his head lolling back slightly as he continued his merciless thrusts. “—for me to fuck.” He groaned. You were surprised you had lasted this long without squirting all over him.

His hands drifted downwards to your clit. The sweet torture began as he rubbed your pearl, coaxing you to your second orgasm.

“O-oh, g-gonna cum, fuck!” You gasped, your words transitioning to a whine as you moaned so sweetly for him. Like a heavenly choir constructed just for his amusement.

It only took one last deep thrust for you to cream all over the gods cock. You clamped down tightly around him, and he knew he wouldn’t last any longer. He groaned, fucking you through your orgasm.

“That’s it. You make such a beautiful mess for me. Your cunt wants to be a goddess, I can tell by the way she’s squeezing me. Should I let her?” He teased with a grin. You moaned softly, feeling utterly overstimulated. You nodded as you incoherently babbled. He wasn’t sure if you even knew what you were agreeing to, but he was going to make you a goddess. Maybe even his wife.

“Fuck, oh, sweet thing. G-gonna—ughh,—gonna fuck my seed deep into you, mark you by the gods.” He groaned, one last stroke and he practically bursted inside of you. All of his stolen orgasms, all of the fisting of himself to you, pouring into your sweet cunt. You whined as you felt him fall apart inside of your accommodating heat.

The two of you panted together as Loki slowly pulled out. He wasted little time to snap your panties and clothes back in place, as well as his armor and leathers.

“Gotta keep it inside if you want to be a goddess, darling.” He grinned, taking deep breaths as you nodded, still in a subspace. You could feel his cum inside of you. You could feel how ruined your panties are even as he pulled them up your legs forcefully. It was euphoric. After a few more breaths you finally spoke up again.

“I suppose the ‘goddess of devotion’ has a nice ring to it.” You laughed softly, your voice hoarse, similar to how it always was after you prayed. You had nothing in this world till now. Loki grinned as he smoothed his ravenous curls back into place.

Loki entangled an arm around you. Wrapping it around your waist and pulling you flush against his body. This was different. Loki had never reminisced with a girl after their fuck. But he had yearned for you since the moment he saw you praising him, cuts adorning your hands and knees, but you didn’t stop your prayer. You ignored the pain. You didn’t bandage it up. You accepted it. He knew you were different, fit to be a goddess.

“Let’s get you back to Asgard, darling. I want the people to see their new goddess. After I fuck her again, of course.” He hummed with a wink. You blushed—though you didn’t have a choice—you didn’t mind as you playfully smacked his shoulder.

“If Valhalla ever did speak, you’re the last true mouthpiece.” You murmured as your head collapsed against his chest and you felt his magic swirl around you, engulfing you completely in his emerald alter.

“Save your poetry for later, sweet thing.”

—————————————————————

thank you so much for reading, lovelies💘. loki is sooo hozier codeddd ughh. let me know if i should write more scenarios with him and hozier songs.

Bucky had offered to take you out. He wanted to show you a good time, that even an old dog could learn new tricks. Him being the old dog.

“Wear somethin’ pretty for me, alright, doll?”

His voice rings in your head. You smiled to yourself as you arrived at the restaurant, Bucky practically sprinting to open your car door for you, making you blush and giggle at his efforts.

“What a gentleman.” You teased as he offered you his arm (the flesh one) and you accepted it graciously.

“‘course, beautiful. What do I look like to you?” He teased back, but you could tell that he was deadly serious. He led you inside and navigated the two of you to one of the more intimate tables. Built for one-on-one couples.

As the night flowed on, you found yourself having an amazing time. Bucky was excellent conversation. Filled with stories, jokes, compliments, and dazzling winks that emphasized whatever comment he had made. Despite yourself, your cheekbones were hurting and you couldn’t stop smiling.

Finally, the check came, and out of habit, you offered to go 50/50.

“Wanna split it?” You asked kindly. Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed, utterly confused.

“Split what? A banana split?” He laughed, as if you were making some joke. Now it was your time to stare at him utterly confused.

“No… like 50/50. We split the bill between us.” You further explained. Buckys laughter died as he stared at you blankly, quirking a brow.

A beat of silence passed by you two.

“Is this your first date?” He laughed playfully. Surely, you must have been fooling with him. “You know i’m a guy, right?” He continued, making you giggle despite the situation.

“No! I’m serious! Every date is 50/50, James.” You lectured. It was natural in your generation. Bucky rolled his eyes, grabbing the bill to leave no further confusion.

“What next, doll? You gonna put ribbons in my hair and make me walk on the inside of the sidewalk?” He grinned, signing his name on the check as you laughed, cheeks burning a hue brighter.

The two of you stood after finishing your drinks, Bucky offering his hand again just to further prove a point.

“When you’re with me, beautiful, you never have to pay.”

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sugardaddy!bucky next? lmaooo. hope you enjoyed, lovelies, my requests are open💘.

Another crushing victory for Gryffindor against Slytherin. You noticed that every game you attended, George tried his hardest to impress you so you didn’t wander off back to whichever book you were reading at the time. You find it cute but it seems Malfoy did not. Quickly you fought your way through the crowd to get on the field where the pair were arguing. When you finally managed to get there, you caught the ending segment of the argument.

“I think you’re right Freddie! I think little Malfoy’s upset that he had the ‘hots’ for my girl and she chose me!” George laughed out mockingly, causing the other surrounding players and students to laugh as well. Malfoy clenched his fist by his sides as his jaw tightened when Fred continued. “Well it was a bloody obvious choice George, truly.” Fred joined back, causing the twins to snicker together as Draco finally managed to bark back a reply.

“Oh yeah Weasley? Clearly your father never taught you how to be a real man. I bet you can’t even pleasure that sorry little mudblood of yours!” Malfoy cackled. George didn’t say another word, that deranged look on his face as he walked closer to Draco is what caused most of his teammates to begin to hold him back for everyone’s sake. Even you interjected at this point. “C’mon George let the stupid git talk.” You tried. Placing a hand on his surprisingly muscular forearm that you simply adored as you tried to persuade him.

He noticed how Malfoy tensed when you were around, and he smirked devilishly at the new upperhand.

“You’re so right love, ‘m think I just need a kiss and i’ll be good as new again.” He remarked playfully to you. His teammates finally releasing him as he stood there awaiting his kiss. You giggled and rolled your eyes, getting up on your tippy-toes due to the height difference that George relished in to plant a kiss to his cheek. His dopey grin grew wider but he was still very determined to ‘rub it in’ Malfoys face. “A real kiss, yeah?” He inquired, pulling you in by your waist and bending down slightly so you could give him a ‘real kiss’ directly in front of Draco.

He hummed obnoxiously as he finally pulled away from you, Malfoy beginning to turn on his heels with a loud huff as he and the rest of the Slytherins retreated in a hurry.

George chuckled mischievously as he finally gave you his undivided attention, his adrenaline still obviously coursing through him as the two of you began to walk back to the Gryffindor dorms together. (usually the two of you go back to the ravenclaw dorms but you don’t force him to walk up all those stairs on quidditch nights) George didn’t typically act like that. It was more Fred’s thing to be rude and crack a laugh from everybody around simultaneously. Clearly, your boyfriend’s twin had been rubbing off on him.

—————————————————————

George had you straddled on his lap on the edge of his bed as you cleaned up some of his minor wounds. At first, George despised this because he felt ‘weak’ having you clean him up but eventually he learned to adapt it as a “post game ritual.” On more calmer quidditch nights, you would have him read you a book or his latest assignment while you tended to him, but right now he was rambling on about Malfoy.

“I mean bloody hell! You can’t play like shit the whole game and then be mad when we win!” He complained, in which you hummed in agreement. “Stupid git, should’a seen the look on his face when Harry stole that snitch.” You giggled at his expression that was supposed to be imitating Malfoys face. The sound of your laughter fizzling all of his anger away as you finished tending to all of his little bruises.

You always ended this little ritual by kissing every mark you fixed, and he stared down at you lovingly as you began. “But you were amazing tonight love, I could hear ya’ cheering from all the way on the pitch.” George complimented. You smiled against his skin before placing another peck down his arms. You knew how much he adored hearing you scream for him. on and off the pitch. “‘m tried my best Georgie, y’know I don’t condone violence but you sure did look good yelling at Malfoy.” You mumbled against his skin, your ‘muggle accent’ under-toning your sentence as he smiled and pulled you closer on his lap. You could feel his hard-on begin to press into you as you mimicked your boyfriend’s grin back to him.

“think you missed a spot, sweetheart.” He remarked cockily as he pointed at an imaginary bruise on his lips. You giggled, causing him to laugh as well. “Oh how could I!” You exaggerated playfully in which he shrugged with a smug smirk.

You pulled him in by the back of his head. Your fingers intertwining in his ginger locks as he immediately began to desperately search your mouth. He resembled a starved man as he kept your lips connected to his. You barely had a moment to breathe before he was pulling you back in, loving how your warm mouth invited him so willingly to paradise each time.

Subconsciously, you bucked your hips against his clothed erection. You only realised that you were practically grinding on him when he groaned into your lips. “fuck pretty girl…” He murmured under his breath and your face flushed as you came to realisation on what you were doing. This wasn’t uncommon for you, you and George had been dating for the better half of a year and although you were insanely comfortable with him… you still managed to get flustered in moments like this. Although George didn’t mind it, in fact, he quite enjoyed the little noises you made whenever he whispered lewd little things in your ears at the worst of all times.

“aww, is someone getting shy? C’mon sweetheart, I can smell you.” He rasped, his voice a little breathless and you whimpered at his filthy words. He gently but firmly grabbed your hips and began to grind you against him. Chuckling as you whined and buried your face into his neck. “‘m need more, Georgie.” You whispered against his skin, planting gentle wet kisses to persuade him further. You could practically hear the grin in his voice. “Guess you deserve it, yeah? You were such a good girl f’ me today.” He murmured as he nipped playfully at your earlobe. You simply whimpered and nodded in response, not entirely trusting your voice not to croak.

His fingers began to fiddle with the waistband of your skirt, teasing you mercilessly. You desperately wanted to tell him to get on with it and stop being a tease… but you also wanted to be his good girl, his sweet little thing who takes what he gives her, his precious ravenclaw who lets him run wild. So all you did was whine. His grin only grew at your self control. “oh? Well this is quite new…” He murmured knowingly. You were about to retort something back, but then you felt his fingers dip under your skirt to rub your cunt through your panties. Immediately, he felt the wet patch on your undergarments and grinned up at you knowingly.

“Naughty little Ravenclaw…” He remarked playfully. Before you could process what was happening, he had you on your back with your hair splayed along his pillow in mere seconds. His bed reeked of his scent, and you simply adored it. He didn’t miss the skip of your heartbeat or the way you had a newfound hunger in your eyes as he effortlessly manhandled you, deciding to tuck that information into his back pocket for now.

George had simple plans for you tonight, but then he recalled Malfoys little ‘pleasure’ comment. Instead of teasing, he slithered his body up your own to press wet kisses along your jawline and neck instead. “What do you need, love?” He asked straightforwardly. This was odd, George normally drew this type of thing out of you until you were a whining mess. “Want you inside, George.” You hummed back, your voice wavering a little but remained true. He groaned against your warm skin before his usual grin returned.

“whatever you like, pretty baby.” He granted as he planted a final kiss. That was one of those nicknames George used whenever he was being sweet, but you could tell his mind was a little aloof. You watched in adoration as he began to strip himself. Hastily tugging away his clothes and discarding them carelessly. You began to do the same, but George’s hand quickly caught yours and gave you a devilish smirk.

“Trying to rid me of all the fun are we? Let me take care of you, yeah?” He teased and you rolled your eyes in response. “Well get on with it!” You insisted, your patience from earlier dwindling thin. This granted you a look of defiance and a remarkably slow George peeling off your clothing one-by-one. Eventually, he couldn’t take the slow reveal and ripped the rest of your black skirt off, causing you to huff in annoyance.

“George! That was my favorite black skirt!” You scolded. You were quickly knocked off of your fit of anger when you felt a long finger slip into your sopping wet cunt. You whimpered almost instantly at the connection. “Doesn’t seem like you mind that much.” He confirmed with a grin, causing you to scoff and whine as he retreated his finger. He was eager tonight, always taking time to savor the taste of your juices as he sucked on his previously inserted digit. “Tasting perfect, love.” He complimented. To say George loved your taste, was an understatement. He relished in it, but tonight, tonight he had a primal urge to claim you.

You both groaned as he began to rub his tip up and down your soaking folds. Both of your eyes glued on the display before he fully slipped inside of you. Your head quickly retreated back to his pillow, eyes screwed shut as he gave you a moment to accommodate to his size. You had taken George many times before, and yet he still gave you this little moment to calm yourself. And yet, you still needed it.

You moaned as he began to move, starting with slow deep thrusts that made you head spin deliciously. He groaned as you clenched around him, his hands gripping your hips as he watched his cock disappear and reappear with each thrust. “Fuck love… you’re squeezing the life out of me down here.” He informed, followed by a sharp hiss when your legs wrapped around his waist and provided a new angle. With this new angle, he sped up his pace, his mesmerizing cock now drilling into you.

Your moans and other little noises were beginning to grow much louder. This seemed to motivate George as he abused the spot that elicited the prettiest noises from deep within you. “Doing so good love, so fuckin’ good for me.” He praised, his words slurring as his head rolled back to reveal his adam’s apple to you. The sight reminded you of sweet torture and it was simply maddening. “J-jus’ like that, feels so good Georgie please don’t stop!” You pleaded with him, no amount of money could pay George to stop as his grip on you grew brutal. He was sure to leave bruises whilst he pounded into you, his erect and long cock hitting the perfect spot within you as he overrode your senses.

You could feel that familiar knot beginning to grow unbearable at his intense pace. Your legs squeezing around his waist as you tried to keep yourself bounded to this world. Every time George fucked you like this it always left you in a floaty headspace. It was one of the few times your brilliant brain wasn’t hard at work, because it was much too occupied and overwhelmed with pleasure.

“You’re so close love I can feel it. So pretty like this baby, so fuckin’ beautiful.” He groaned, your hands flying from the clenched bedsheet to his shoulders as your fingernails dug into his muscular blades. This resulted in a new noise of pleasure from him that made you whimper in return. “Come for me sweetheart, c’mon sweet baby I need to feel you.” George rasped. His voice pulling an utterly filthy noise from you as the coil within you snapped and you came all over his large cock. He let out a guttural moan while he fucked you through your high, making sure to fulfill you whole as he felt himself begin to drawl close.

“Mmm, I-I’m getting their love. Where can I-…” His words trailed off as he couldn’t get enough of your pussy. You fit like a fucking glove around his erection and it was glorious to him. “Inside George please. Want it inside s’ bad.” You whimpered out breathlessly. Your pleas is what caused George to snap as he bottomed out inside of you. Groaning as he began to spill his seed. “Fuck…” He cursed, his cock painting your insides just as you had requested.

He lowered himself on you once he finished. He knew how much you loved his weight on you as the both of you collected your breaths while panting. George was the first to move, planting kisses all over your heated skin while he gently pulled out. “Did so good love, always so good for me.” He complimented. He quickly retrieved a warm washcloth and cleaned the two of you up. He could easily do it with magic, but George loved the intimacy this brought as he peppered kisses all over your body. You were astonished on how he complimented you like that even if you didn’t really do a thing that whole time, but he didn’t mind it. This was a day for you and your pleasure, (as well as his pride)

“I love you so much, love bug. Such a brilliant, bloody perfect, little witch.” He murmured as he finally finished cleaning you up. Joining you in the bed as he cuddled up behind you skin to skin, spooning your bare form. You smiled at the cheesy little nickname, it was corny, but something he always called you when you were overcome by sleep.

“‘m love you too, George. thank you…” you murmured back, sleep already evident in your voice as he chuckled softly and traced comforting patterns along your skin. “Night, pretty girl.” He hummed back, but you had already drifted off as he planted a final kiss to your shoulder and buried his face in your hair. The smell of your- no his vanilla shampoo lulling him to sleep.

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Thank you for reading!!! please drop a Weasley twins request or a Loki request for me😇