if you're not 26 years old right now you will be soon
But I just turned 30.....please......dont make me go back there......
i'm sorry there's nothing we can do about it
Just my luck!!
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@softredlights
if you're not 26 years old right now you will be soon
But I just turned 30.....please......dont make me go back there......
i'm sorry there's nothing we can do about it
Just my luck!!

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
Warning! â ïž This is between fully consenting adults! Unfinished.
Best friend that finds out I have a Daddy kink and uses it to tease me. Are you seriously into that? Laughs at my blush as he puts my phone down. Only reason he found out is because he was being nosey. He doesn't let it go either, always teasing me, and making sure I get all flustered. You just need daddy's help don't you? Of course you can't do it by yourself. Little girls like you always need a big strong daddy to do it for you.
He loves doing it out in public and getting me to squirm all flustered. Sometimes to really get me he'll do it when people can hear him. Let daddy help you or don't make daddy punish you later, behave. This is all supposed to be a joke to him, he's teasing me. Until it's not a joke and he genuinely starts liking being a Daddy. This was a kink he could never take seriously, that's why he started joking around about it! And it comes back to bite his ass when one day he gets hard at the thought of hearing me call him Daddy.
Genuinely starts taking care of me in that Daddy way. Open up, baby...let me take care of you. While slowly feeding me my favorite dessert. Careful, I don't want my princess to get hurt. While covering a corner I was about to walk into. Don't do that, bad girl. While softly swatting my bottom as I try to grab something. Once it really clicks to him how deep he's getting into it he corners me. This is all your fault! Acting all cute, being an absolute doll, and needing someone...needing me, needing daddy. He's admittedly nervous as it falls from his lips.
Call me Daddy, baby....come on...let me take care of you. No jokes, he corners me. Looking deep into my eyes as he pushes his hand into my panties. Daddy can take care of you in so many ways, princess... So many different ways. He starts kissing my neck as he rubs my clit. See? I'm not joking anymore, want you to be my little girl. My precious girl to take care of...in all the ways I can.
Introducing Soldier Boy to cockwarming is difficult bc he doesnât understand why youâd want him inside you and not want to cum from it. Heâll always oblige you and try but within a couple minutes heâs already thrusting up into you, talking bout âif you didnât want dad to fuck you, you wouldnât so wet. now let me take care it you, kidâ
âfucks the point of it then?â the older man stares at you, mouth a little gaped at the bizarre request as he sits back against the white couch in your apartment, impossibly strong back crushing a myriad of pink throw cushions. his thick arms are crossed over his chest, legs spread comfortably as you stand between them. you sway on the spot a little, playing sheepishly with the hem of your skirt. (âžâžÉ̶̷̎ â© É̶̷̎ àŸàœČ)
âso i can stay close to you.â you pout, hoping that batting your lashes at him will just get you what you want. ben being the brat tamer he was, it barely worked.
he blinks, shaking his head in exasperation as he tries to wrap his head around the concept. âthese younger girls, i swear.â he mutters to himself as he uncrosses his arms, sitting up a little straighter. ben takes a moment to eye you, reaching out an arm to drag his finger upward at the hem of your skirt, flipping it up a little. âyou got panties on under that skirt, kiddo?â
âso youâll do it?â you grin, bringing your fists up under the chin hopefully as you ignore his question. he shrugs, reaching to the side table to take a swig out of his beer bottle. he swallows, smacking his lips with a satisfied âaaahâ sound before looking at you decidedly.
âyou think any manâs gonna pass up on burying himself in a wet hot cunt? come sit on it.â
you get comfortable as he flicks through the tv channels, trying to find something he can kind of focus on as you snuggle into him, tip of his cock trying to wedge space near your cervix. you feel so full, even more so than when youâre just fucking and you shiver, trying to dig even closer into his warmth as your eyes flutter shut.
âso this is it? you just wanna have a little cat nap with my cock in you?â he deadpans, unamused â but you feel him purposefully twitch his length, the mushroom tip thudding against your walls, forcing your eyes to roll back a little.
âmhm. jusâ stay like this daddy.â you slur, drooling against his chest. he tips his chin to his chest to get a better look at you, mouth turned downward in that grumpy old man way that you loved so much.
âfuck it. whatever you want.â
only four minutes pass, and as you drift in and out of a euphoric, tingly nap â your senses are pointing toward bens impatience, the man shifting beneath you. his hand slides up your spine, gently clasping the back of your neck with his big man hand.
âyou really want me to believe that you donât want me to make that pretty pussy cream right now?â he sounds amused, sarcastic â like this was a game youâd set up.
âmmph.â you hide your face, avoiding an answer. it did feel good to stay full â but god his cock was made for you, and your folds flutter around him.
âi felt that.â he pulls you back by the scruff of your neck like a little stray kitten, forcing your groggy eyes on his. âi think you fuckinâ like that i have all the power here. i could just start pounding up into you right now, and thereâs not a god damn thing you could do about it.â heâs confident, voice deep and rumbly and you suck on your lip, a squeaked whimper leaving you when he bounces you on his lap once with little effort, cunt clenching hard.
âsee i just donât think your little kitty would get that sticky if she didnât know dad was gonna fix her up, and dad always fixes her up.â he tightens his grip on your neck. âaint that right?â
âyes dad yes â yes dad!â you break, almost panicked in your hushed pleading. he smirks, big and cocky.
âno please? you little girls just have no manners.â he starts to push in and out, forcing you as deep as youâll go and right to the tip, holding your body up by the back of your neck still. âlucky for you i donât care too much. now how about you show me how thankful you are by creaming on your dads big cock.â
*sighs dreamily* what a fucking weirdo
*twirling hair* what a fucking freak
I'm obsessed with the idea of the pussy portal company and more specifically the pocket pussy status...
Having a special someone who loves nothing more than fucking you senseless whenever they want just does something to me.
Bonus points for teasing you while they do it as well!
(Bonus Bonus points for tender fucking-)
This ask is from over a year ago but-
It is kinda funny to imagine someone being gentle with their pussy portal.
Like you're obviously used to the rough fucking, right? The deep, gut rearranging kind of fucking that people who use a pussy portal are usually into.
You're used to being stuffed and fucked with absolutely no build up because that's what the service is for.
Having your portal passed around a whole party, cockwarmed for hours or just fucked for 3 minutes till your customer cums and pulls out to go about their business as usual. Sometimes you just feel a splat of cum when someone didn't even fuck the portal but just wanted somewhere to cum so they didn't have to clean up. An always accessible cum dump, that's the point.
But then there's a specific customer who is gentle? And slow? Who eases their fingers inside you, gently responding to the way your walls give and clench, inching further and further, stretching you just enough too- wait. Is this foreplay??? Who tf fingers a pussy portal??
It's so sensual you almost blush. The way their fingers pump in and out, the way they feel around for that sweet spot and actually know they've found it by how you clench around them. They increase their speed, focusing on that one spot that has your knees buckling and your fingers gripping the kitchen counter.
They finger fuck you with uncanny precision until you cum with a groan, rubbing your clit. They slow their pace as you come down and you realise they actually meant to make you cum. They purposefully made their pussy portal cum? Who does that?
You then feel them circle and tap their tip on the entrance of your portal, smearing pre around your cunt. They inch themselves in as if they could actually hurt you if they didn't, you almost laugh at the idea. Their cock rubs right against your G-spot and you clench around them, a little sensitive from the first orgasm. Their movements pause for a moment and then they set a quicker pace, making sure to hit that same spot over and over and over again.
You're seeing stars, bent over your counter, shaking with pleasure. You've had so much bigger, so much faster, harder, stronger but this is something different. Something so tender and attentive, so...thoughtful?
The stranger speeds up when they can feel you getting closer, pumping more frantically and you realise it's because they want you to cum together.
And you do, cum gushing into you as your walls clench around the stranger's twitching cock. They stay inside for a while, giving occasional gentle pumps as they make sure to give you every drop. When they eventually pull out, it's slow like they're worried you'd feel too empty if they pulled out immediately.
They gently tap their cock against your portal one more time like an obscene kiss goodbye before you're left alone, baffled and thoroughly intrigued by your new customer.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
This is my type in case you were wondering
'Cocksleeve' is such a pretty name for the most pathetic of good girls (âżâ Ïâ )
SEBASTIAN STAN as TOMMY LEE
â€âą PAM AND TOMMY (2022)
Hajimete no SM Guide pg. 90-97 Buy it on Amazon.co.jp

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Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
đ
bucky seeing p0rn for the first time after the dating apps donât work outđ
I'm deadddd, this was so vague so I just ran with it
The Education Of James Buchanan Barnes
pairing | post!tfatws!bucky x fem!reader
word count | 6.3k words
summary | when dating apps fail him and thirst traps become his downfall, bucky barnes finds himself spiraling down the internetâs most unholy rabbit holeâpornhub.
what starts as horrified research turns into full-blown obsession... especially when you, his sharp-tongued best friend, catch him red-handed and make very sure he lives out every filthy fantasy heâs been hiding.
tags | (18+) MDNI, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, face sitting, breeding kink dirty talk, roleplay mentions, overstimulation, sexual humor, porn discovery, reader catches bucky watching porn, friends to very horny lovers, reader is a menace, teasing, flustered bucky, dom!bucky, subtle power play, consent is sexy, reader rides his face, doggy style, missionary? i hardly know her, mutual pining (solved by porn), no use of y/n, reader is a problem and bucky loves it, aftercare.
a/n | yeah, I definitely went overboard with this. I hope you freaks enjoy this
taglist | if you wanna be added to my bucky barnes masterlist just add your username to my taglist
likes comments and reblogs are much appreciated âšâš
sáŽÊÉȘáŽs áŽáŽsáŽáŽÊÊÉȘsáŽ
ÉŽáŽxᎠáŽáŽÊáŽ
divider by @cafekitsune
You sipped your drink slowly, already biting the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing as Bucky glared into his beer like it had personally betrayed him.
âSo,â Sam started, barely hiding his smirk. âHow was the date with... what was her name again? Velvet? Vixen?â
âVesper,â Bucky muttered, dragging a hand down his face. âAnd she asked if Iâd be into choking her with my vibranium arm before we even finished our drinks.â
You snorted into your glass.
Sam leaned forward, grinning. âI mean... was she wrong?â
âSam.â Buckyâs glare was instant, but mostly performative. âI just met her.â
You glanced at him over your glass, amused. âWhat app did you find this one on?â
He groaned. âThe same one you said was ânormal.ââ
âNo one said it was normal,â you said, raising a brow. âI said it was better than Tinder. Thatâs not a high bar.â
Bucky leaned back with a sigh, looking thoroughly done with the entire 21st century. âI miss when people met at soda shops and asked each other about their families instead of sending... pictures of their genitals.â
Sam barked a laugh. âAw, poor Grandpaâs overwhelmed by the sex-positive future.â
âYou know whatâs not positive?â Bucky muttered. âThe fact that I Googled âhow to get back out of the dating appâ and it sent me to a subreddit with people just as confused as I am.â
You exchanged a look with Sam, both of you clearly enjoying this way too much.
âHave you... considered other ways to meet people?â you asked, trying not to grin. âLike not being a digital hermit?â
Bucky looked between the two of you, deadpan. âIâm this close to living in the jungle again.â
Sam raised his glass. âTo Bucky Barnes, the only man who can bench-press a car but canât survive Hinge.â
Bucky slammed his glass downânot hard, but with enough force to earn a side-eye from the bartender.
âI just donât get it,â he muttered. âIâm trying to talk to these women like a normal person. I say, âHi, how was your day?â and one of them responds withââ he fumbled with his phone, squinting at the screen, ââSend me a pic of the arm, baby, I wanna see whatâs gonna rearrange my insides.ââ
You choked.
Sam full-on cackled, grabbing his chest. âWaitârearrange her insides? Yo, thatâs poetry.â
âShe sent a GIF after that,â Bucky went on, staring at the phone like it might explode. âA GIF. Of a hydraulic press crushing a watermelon. What does that mean?â
âIâm gonna die,â you wheezed, nearly spilling your drink. âShe wants you to hydraulically press her coochie, Barnes. Come on.â
âI thought she was making a smoothie metaphor!â Bucky snapped. âAnd then another one asked if I was into CNC. I said I didnât know what that meant, and she said âperfect.ââ
Sam wiped a tear from his eye. âOh my godâBucky, youâre gonna end up in someoneâs kink diary.â
âShe sent me a TikTok about edging,â Bucky added, horror slowly overtaking his face. âI thought it was about gardening.â
You completely lost it, head in your arms on the table. âPlease stop, I canât breathe.â
Bucky scowled. âIâm serious! She said she wanted to edge me for hours, and I said that sounded peaceful, like a nice walkâand she sent back forty-seven emojis.â
Sam gasped between wheezes. âYouâre getting sexted in hieroglyphics and you think itâs a hike, Iâm begging you to never leave the house again.â
Bucky looked between you both, betrayal written across his face. âI survived Hydra. I survived seventy years of brainwashing. But I will not survive being called âdaddyâ by a woman who lists her job as âfreelance foot model and energy witch.ââ
âWaitâdid she have the crystals?â you asked, barely able to form the words.
He nodded grimly. âShe said my aura was âscreaming trauma kink.ââ
Sam actually slid off the stool, wheezing on the floor.
He shut the door behind him with a dull thunk, then stood there for a moment in the silence. The kind that pressed in around the edges when no one else was around. Just him, the creak of the old radiator, and the words ârearrange my insidesâ still echoing in his head like a ghost.
Bucky sighed, tossed his jacket onto the back of a chair, and walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge as if disappointment wouldnât be waiting there too. One beer left. Great.
He grabbed it, popped the cap off with his metal hand, and made his way over to his laptop.
It sat there on the table like a challenge.
He opened it. The familiar whir kicked on. A sigh slipped through his teeth.
âI fought in two wars,â he muttered to himself. âSurvived Hydra. Took down a helicarrier. But this? This is the real enemy.â
He hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard.
Then he typed:
"What does CNC mean?"
Enter.
He leaned forward slowly, reading the top search result. Then the second.
His eyebrows pulled together. His mouth fell open just slightly.
"...Consensual non-consent?"
He clicked the link. Read further.
He leaned back in his chair like heâd just been shot.
âWhyâwhy would anyone want that?â he muttered, scandalized. âThatâs just... thatâs just assault with permission.â
Still, he didnât close the tab.
He opened a new one instead.
"Edging meaning (not gardening)"
More links. More acronyms. More trauma.
His face contorted in quiet horror as he scanned descriptions, diagrams, tips and techniques.
His beer sat forgotten on the table.
Eventually, he clicked a link that just said âbeginnerâs guide to porn kinks.â It was a blog. Fairly clinical. Until it wasnât.
Then he clicked another.
And another.
Until eventually he wound up on a site with thumbnailsâlittle videos with previews. Titles he didnât fully understand.
He stared at one.
A girl, on her knees, mouth open, eyes wide.
Title: âTraining My Pretty Submissive Bratâ
He blinked. Then hovered. Clicked.
The video loaded.
He sat still, very still, as it started playing.
And then...
âWhat the hellââ he whispered.
The guy was talking. Dirty. Commanding.
The girl was moaning like someone had just whispered state secrets in her ear. She was calling him sir. Begging. Crying out when heâ
Bucky slammed the spacebar to pause the video, hand clenched on the table.
He stood. Paced.
âI shouldnât be watching this,â he thought, running his hand through his hair. âThis is wrong. This is notâthatâs notââ
He looked back at the screen.
Unpaused.
A few seconds passed.
He sat again.
Watched. Silent. Rigid.
His jaw clenched. His eyes darted across the screen like he was scanning enemy movement.
Then his handâhis metal handâtapped the edge of the keyboard.
Paused again.
His chest rose and fell.
âI mean⊠heâs not hurting her,â he thought. âSheâs asking for it. She likes it.â
Beat.
âAnd sheâs loud.â
He sat back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at the paused screen like it had insulted him personally.
Then he muttered, âIs that what people want now?â
He reopened the search bar.
"How to talk dirty in bed"
The search results hit him like a grenade.
By the third article, his ears were red. His fingers hovered over the trackpad like they didnât know whether to scroll or just snap the whole laptop in half.
He clicked another video.
This one was slower. More intimate.
The woman straddled the guyâs lap, whispering in his ear. He growled something back, then pushed her down on the bedâ
Buckyâs breath caught.
He didnât even notice his hand moving under the table at first.
Didnât notice the low groan that slipped from his throat when the man on screen said, âGood girlâjust like that.â
He froze. Eyes wide. Mouth dry.
He swallowed hard.
ââŠI need another beer.â
But he didnât move.
Didnât stop watching.
Because something in him had been starved for this. For contact. For control. For someone wanting him, even in fantasy.
The next video autoplayed before he could stop it.
Another couple. This time, softer lighting. Moaning, whispered praise. Her back arched under his touch as he moved slow, deliberate, like every second was sacred.
Bucky swallowed hard.
He sat motionless for a full minute.
Then his hand drifted down.
Hesitant. Awkward.
He undid the button of his jeans, fingers brushing over the bulge in his briefs. The contact was enough to make his breath stutter.
âJesus,â he whispered.
He shifted in his seat, pushed his jeans down just enough, and curled his hand around himself. Warm skin against cool air. His metal hand clenched uselessly on the table as the other moved slowly, uncertain.
The sounds from the videoâsoft, rhythmic, intimateâfilled the room.
And Bucky gave in.
His eyes didnât close. He watchedâstudiedâthe way the man touched her, held her, spoke to her like she was something precious and filthy all at once.
âSuch a good girl,â the man murmured. âTaking all of me. Just like that.â
Bucky bit down on a groan, his hand moving faster now, hips twitching in his seat.
He imagined saying those words.
And thenâ
He imagined you.
Your voice, sharp and sarcastic, going breathy and soft when he touched you. Your legs around his waist. Your fingers in his hair. Your mouth whispering his name like it meant something.
And that thoughtâyou, under him, with himâwrecked him.
He jerked harder, gritting his teeth, chest rising fast.
A low moan slipped out. Sharp. Uncontrolled.
His head fell back, eyes clenched shut as heat coiled in his gut. His body trembled.
One more strokeâ
And he came.
Hard.
He let out a strangled noise, hips lifting off the couch, body seizing as white-hot pleasure shot through him. His hand slowed, milked every last pulse, until the aftershocks faded and all that was left wasâ
Silence. Reality. Shame.
His breath was harsh in his ears.
The screen was still playing.
The woman moaned, laughing, pulling the man closer.
Bucky stared. Then looked down.
At himself. At the mess.
At the way his hand was still wrapped around his cock, softening now, shame creeping in like a slow burn.
He let go like heâd been scalded.
The aftershocks hadnât even faded before the guilt hitâcold and immediate.
Not from what heâd watched.
Not even from what heâd done.
But from who heâd seen in his mind while he did it.
You.
You, laughing beside him at the bar. You, rolling your eyes at his brooding. You, calling him âgrandpaâ and meaning it with affection.
Youâbeneath him, moaning, touching, giving yourself to him in the fantasy that had just ripped through his body.
His stomach twisted.
He yanked his pants back up, hands clumsy, face burning not with arousal nowâbut with shame.
âFuck,â he muttered, pacing, one hand raking through his hair, the other clenching into a fist. âFuckâwhat the hellâs wrong with me?â
You were his friend.
You were real.
And heâd just used the idea of you like⊠like some porn star on a screen.
His jaw tightened. He couldnât look at the laptop. Couldnât look at himself. He felt dirtyânot because heâd touched himself, but because it felt like a betrayal. A violation of something pure.
He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.
That hadnât been just need.
That had been you.
And now he didnât know how the hell he was supposed to look you in the eye again.
A Few Weeks Later
There was a knock at the door.
Three knocks, then a pause.
Then two more.
âCome on, Barnes,â your voice called through the door. âI brought sacrificial offerings.â
Bucky hesitated.
He sat in the dark, boots still on, bruised knuckles resting against his knees. His hoodie clung to him, sweat-damp and rumpled, his mind still halfway in the mission, halfway in the same loop it had been stuck in for weeks.
But it was you.
He got up slowly and opened the door.
You stood there with a paper bag in one hand, a six-pack in the other, grinning like you had zero intention of leaving whether he wanted you to or not.
âYou gonna let me in or should I start monologuing like a Bond villain?â
He stepped aside without a word.
You strolled in like you owned the place, already heading to the kitchen with practiced ease.
âBrought dumplings, noodles, and enough alcohol to bleach the taste of both from your soul,â you said, setting things down. âYou looked like someone clubbed you with your own metal arm last mission, soâfigured Iâd play nurse. A sexy, underqualified nurse with boundary issues.â
Bucky closed the door quietly behind you.
âYouâre not a nurse,â he muttered.
âNot with that attitude.â
You popped the beers open, handed him one, then flopped onto his couch like you lived there. Legs kicked up, food containers opened without ceremony, your usual grin in place.
He stood a few feet away, beer untouched in his hand.
He hadnât seen you in weeksânot really. Heâd ducked every casual run-in, bailed on team movie nights, even ghosted your texts under the excuse of "needing space." He figured you noticed.
You just hadnât said anything.
Until now.
You eyed him, casually, between bites. âYou gonna sit down or do I need to pull you onto the couch like a Victorian housewife?â
He sat. Slowly. Farther away than usual.
You noticed. Of course you did. But you didnât call him on it.
Not yet.
Instead, you nudged a container toward him and said, âEat, soldier. You look like a sad, haunted lumberjack.â
And stillâhe didnât say a word.
Because all he could think about, sitting beside you again after a month of silence, was the way your mouth had looked in that fantasy.
The way your voice had sounded moaning his name.
The way heâd used the memory of your real, friendly, teasing self toâ
He swallowed thickly.
You kept eating, casual, sharp, familiar.
Exactly how he remembered. Exactly what made it so much worse.
You wiped your fingers on a napkin, leaned back, and gave him a look.
âAlright. You look like youâre two seconds from overthinking yourself into an early grave. Movie time. Something with violence or explosionsâyour love language.â
Before he could protest, you were already standing and heading toward his desk.
âWaitââ he said, starting to rise, but too slow.
You flipped open his laptop. âLetâs see what Grandpa Barnes has in hisââ
âAhâahhâyes, pleaseâ!â
The moaning hit like a tactical nuke.
You froze.
So did he.
Both of you staring wide-eyed at the screen as the speakers screamed filth into the otherwise silent apartment.
Bucky moved fast.
Too fast.
He lunged over the couch, hand outstretched like he was taking enemy fire.
You dodged.
Smooth, practiced. Years of training paying off.
âNoââ he barked, face already crimson, âPleaseâdonâtâ!â
âOh my godââ you laughed, holding the laptop just out of reach. âIs thisâis this Pornhub? Are you seriouslyâyou are! Youâve been watching porn, you absolute degenerate.â
He groaned, dragging his hand down his face, mortified.
âPlease give me the laptop,â he said, voice low, wounded, like you were holding a hostage.
But you were already clicking the spacebar, pausing the video mid-thrust.
âOooh,â you said, squinting at the tab title. ââBrat tamer destroys needy subâ? This is what youâre into?â You looked at him, eyebrows raised. âBucky.â
âStop,â he muttered, pacing now, hands on his hips. âI wasâresearching.â
âResearching what? The anatomy of a throatfuck?â you said, howling with laughter. âBrat tamerâare you even on Tumblr, old man?â
He looked like he wanted the floor to open and consume him.
âDo you know how much I regret every decision that led to this moment?â
You hugged the laptop to your chest dramatically. âI canât believe youâve been hiding this. The secrets. The shame. The kinks.â
âGive. It. Back.â
âNope. Not until we find out if youâve got a whole ârough dom Buckyâ fantasy folder stashed somewhere. You into praise? Degradation? Impact play? Knife play?â
He growled.
Actually growled.
And for half a second, it stopped being funny.
Because the way his eyes locked on you?
That wasnât embarrassment anymore.
That was heat. Low. Dangerous.
You grinned, too drunk on the chaos to stop.
âCome on, Barnes,â you said, laptop still clutched like a prize. âOwn it. You like a little bratty backtalk? You want someone to whimper please while you tell her sheâs being a bad girl?â
He was still pacing, but slower now. Controlled. Coiled.
You didnât notice.
You were too busy poking the bear.
âIs that what youâre into?â you teased, stepping back. âAll that repressed soldier shit finally coming out in dirty little commands and throat grips?â
His eyes met yours. Still embarrassed, sure. But behind it? Something sharper. Something hungry.
âYâknow,â you added, tone light, teasing, âI always pegged you as more of a soft dom. Gentle hands. Lots of praise. But this? This is dark. Kinda filthy. Kinda hot.â
That did it. He moved.
Fast.
Faster than he shouldâve.
One second, you were smirking with the laptop; the next, it was out of your hands, clattering to the couch. You were against the wall, chest rising, his body a breath away from yours.
His hand planted next to your head.
His voice low. Controlled.
âEnough.â
You stared at him. The air was suddenly thick. Your heart thudded once, hard.
âYou think this is a joke?â he asked, eyes burning into you.
Your mouth parted, but no sound came out.
âYou think I donât know youâve been toying with me since the moment you walked in?â
That teasing smile falteredâjust a little.
âYou keep pushing,â he murmured, leaning in, breath brushing your jaw. âYou laugh, you flirt, you play. But you donât realize... Iâve thought about you. In ways I shouldnât.â
You swallowed.
Hard.
âI know what I watched,â he went on, voice rough, low, dangerous. âI know who I imagined.â
Your breath caught.
His eyes dropped to your lips.
Then back up.
And when he spoke again, it wasnât a threat.
It was a promise.
âYou want to see what Iâm into?â
You blinked up at himâcornered, cagedâbut not afraid.
Not even close. Your smile crept back, slower this time. Calculated.
âOh,â you murmured, tone shifting. âYou imagined me?â
Buckyâs jaw tightened.
His silence said everything.
You pushed your palms slowly against his chest, feeling the way his body tensed under your touch. Solid. Barely held together.
You leaned in, lips brushing just beneath his ear.
âSo tell me,â you whispered, voice low and coaxing. âIf youâve already pictured it, Barnes... what did I look like?â
He exhaled harshly through his nose.
You didnât stop.
âWhat was I doing?â you went on, dragging your fingers down the curve of his chest. âWas I on my knees? Bent over? Did I ride you while you begged for it?â
A choked sound left himâmore breath than voice.
You smiled against his neck. âOr do you want to tell me what you were doing to me?â
His hands twitched at his sides.
You could feel itâthe war inside him. Guilt, hunger, restraint. And under all of it, the ache.
âGo on, James,â you whispered, using his real name like a secret. âTell me. What do you like?â
His head dropped forward, forehead nearly touching yours.
A beat passed.
Then another.
And thenâ
âI want you on top,â he breathed, voice ragged. âI want you to sit on my face and ride it until your legs give out.â
Your eyes fluttered closed for half a second.
That was not the answer you expected first.
His voice deepened, like now that heâd started, he couldnât stop.
âI want you on your knees, begging. I want to fuck you from behind so deep you forget your own name. I want to feel you come around me and not stop. I want to stay inside you.â
His breath hitched. His hands were fisting at his sides.
âAnd when Iâm done, when you canât even move anymoreâI want to come in you and keep coming until youâre full of me. Until itâs dripping out of you.â
Your thighs clenched instinctively.
Your nails curled tighter into his chest.
And your voice, still low, still teasingâbut now breathy, just slightlyâsaid:
âDamn, Barnes. Thatâs a whole lot of filth for someone who didnât even know what edging was last month.â
Your last teasing whisper hadnât even left your lips before Bucky moved.
One second you were pinned between him and the wall, and the next, his hands were on your hips, gripping tight. Then the ground disappeared beneath your feet.
You gasped as he lifted youâeasily, effortlesslyâhauling you against his chest like you weighed nothing.
âJesus, Barnesââ you started, but his mouth was already on yours.
It wasnât a kiss. It was a claim.
Hot, rough, needyâhis lips crashed into yours with the force of every filthy thought, every sleepless night, every moment heâd spent imagining your mouth, your body, your sound. His teeth scraped your bottom lip. His tongue pushed past yours. There was no hesitation. Just heat.
You moaned into it, hands threading into his hair, pulling him closer even as he carried you down the hall.
Your back hit the wall once, then the doorframe, and thenâ
The bed.
He dropped you onto it like a man starved for touch. The mattress creaked beneath you, sheets rumpled and cool against your skin as you propped yourself up on your elbows, breathless and grinning.
Bucky stood at the edge of the bed, looking at you like you were his undoing.
You tilted your head, voice low and mocking.
âIs this the part where you get all commanding, Sergeant? Or are you gonna make me do the work?â
His jaw clenched. He stepped forward. Then dropped his weight onto the bed, climbing over you, hands already at your thighs, dragging you down the sheets toward him.
âI told you not to push,â he growled.
You smiled, voice syrup-sweet.
âAnd I told you I liked pushing.â
His hands slipped under your shirt, yanking it over your head in one smooth motion. Your bra was next, tossed aside without ceremony. He ducked down immediately, mouth hot against your collarbone, then lowerâkissing, biting, devouring.
You gasped, head falling back as his mouth found your breast, tongue circling your nipple before he sucked it between his lips, hard.
And stillâyou teased.
âCareful, Barnes. Gonna make a mess before you even get inside me.â
He looked up at you.
Eyes wild, hungry, dark.
And then he dragged your jeans downâfast, rough, like he didnât have the patience for anything elseâand crawled up between your legs, pressing his body to yours until there was nothing between you anymore.
âThen shut up,â he growled, grinding against you, his cock thick and hard through his jeans.
âMake me,â you whispered, pulling him down by the collar.
And he did.
His mouth was everywhereâjaw, neck, breasts, stomachâkissing, biting, groaning like he couldnât get enough, like he didnât know where to start because he wanted all of you.
Then he pulled back, breathing hard, eyes raking over your body like a man finally allowed to look.
âGet up,â he rasped, voice dark and thick with want.
You blinked up at him, dazed and grinning. âWhat?â
He sat back on his heels, hands gripping your thighs.
âI said get up,â he repeated. âI want you on my face.â
Your breath caught.
Dead serious.
You didnât question it. Didnât tease.
Instead, your lips curved into a slow smile as you shifted, sitting up, climbing over him with fluid, easy confidence.
âAs you wish, Sergeant.â
That name hit him like a punch to the chest.
His hands guided youâfirm, reverent, needyâuntil your knees were braced on either side of his head, your body hovering just above his lips.
He looked up at you like a man whoâd prayed for this moment.
And then?
He pulled you down.
No hesitation.
Just mouth.
Hot, wet, desperateâhe groaned the second he tasted you, tongue already lapping through your folds, lips sealing around your clit like he was starving.
Your head tipped back with a sharp gasp, fingers flying into his hair as your hips bucked against his mouth.
âFuckâBuckyââ
He growled in response, hands gripping your ass, holding you down, keeping you there.
You rocked against him instinctively, gasping as his tongue flicked and circled, licked and sucked. He was moaning into you, mumbling things you couldnât even make outâexcept for one word that hit clear, over and over:
âMine.â
You looked down at him, eyes wild, mouth open.
His eyes met yours.
Dark. Glazed. Possessed.
You could see the man he used to beâthe soldier, the weaponâbut right now?
Right now he was just yours.
And you were his.
You couldnât stop moving.
Couldnât stop grinding against his mouth, against his tongue, the pleasure slamming through you in waves, harder and sharper with every flick, every suck.
Bucky moaned beneath you, the sound filthy, shameless, needyâlike your taste was saving him from something dark and deep and buried.
His hands held you tighter, guiding your hips as you rocked against his mouth, your thighs trembling around his head.
âFuckâfuckââ you gasped, one hand gripping the headboard, the other buried in his thick, messy hair. âDonât stopâdonât you dare stopââ
He didnât.
If anything, he doubled downâlips sealing tighter, tongue working you harder, sloppier, his groans vibrating against your clit like a live wire.
He wanted this.
He wanted to suffocate on you, drown in you.
And you gave it to him.
Because when you looked down, saw those glassy, desperate blue eyes staring up at you, pleading for more, there was no holding back.
The coil snapped.
Your whole body locked as the orgasm ripped through you, sharp and searing, your hips jerking uncontrollably against his mouth.
âBuckyââ you cried, voice cracking, thighs clamping around his head as you cameâhard.
He didnât let go.
He held you there, arms wrapped around your thighs, mouth still working you through it, licking and sucking every shudder, every twitch, like it was a gift.
You collapsed forward, one hand braced on the headboard behind his head, the other still clutching his hair, your body wrecked, shaking, soaked.
And when you finally opened your eyesâchest heaving, heart poundingâyou looked down at him.
His lips were wet, chin glistening, eyes blown wide with hunger.
He looked like he could live there. Like heâd happily die there.
And all he said, voice hoarse and full of worship:
âYou taste like heaven.â
You were still trembling when he sat up behind you, hands stroking your thighs, your hips, slow and reverent like he needed to remember the feel of you.
âYou good?â he rasped, voice wrecked from moaning into you.
You nodded, barely catching your breath, lips curving into a slow smile.
âStill waiting for that doggystyle fantasy to come true, Sergeant.â
That was all it took.
He growled low in his throat, grabbing your hips, flipping you effortlessly onto your stomach. Before you could even laugh, his hands slid under your body and lifted your hips high, chest pressed down into the mattress.
You moaned, the stretch in your spine perfect, delicious.
He leaned over you, his breath hot at your ear.
âThis how you want it?â
You arched your back, ass pushing against him. âThis is how you want it.â
He growled againâlow, deep, possessive.
âExactly how I want it.â
Then you felt himâhis cock, thick and hot, dragging through your soaked folds, the head catching on your entrance.
He didnât push in yet.
Just rubbed, slow, deliberate, teasing.
You whimpered, tried to push back.
He gripped your hips tighter.
âNot yet,â he murmured. âYouâre gonna feel all of it.â
Thenâhe pushed in.
Slow at first, but deep, the stretch burning in the best way as he filled you, inch by thick, pulsing inch.
âFuckââ you moaned, hands clutching the sheets as he bottomed out.
He held still once he was fully inside.
Like he was savoring it.
Like thisâbeing buried in you, your body wrapped tight around hisâwas what heâd been starving for.
Then he moved.
Pulled out halfway.
And slammed back in.
You cried out, the sound muffled by the sheets as he started thrusting, each snap of his hips harder, deeper, rougher than the last.
His hands gripped your waist like you were his anchor.
His rhythm brutal, relentless.
He fucked you like he meant itâlike heâd dreamed of this for weeks, like every fantasy had led to this.
You were gasping, moaning, clawing at the bed.
âLook at you,â he panted behind you. âSo fucking tightâtaking me so good.â
You couldnât speak.
Could barely breathe.
And when his hand snaked around to rub your clit, you screamed his name.
He didnât let up.
Just pounded into you harder, faster, until the sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, filthy and loud and perfect.
He was so deep in you.
Deeper than anyone had ever beenâphysically, yes, but also fully. Like this was where he belonged. Like this was where you belonged.
His hips rolled, the angle perfect, his cock dragging against that sweet spot inside you with every rough, claiming thrust.
And his voiceâlow, wrecked, filthyâpoured right into your ear.
âYou like that, sweetheart?â he growled. âYou like being on your knees for me?â
You whimpered, nodding, voice breathless.
âYes, Buckyâfuckâso much.â
He leaned over you, chest flush to your back, still moving inside youâslow now, torturously deep, like he wanted to feel every pulse of you clenching around him.
âYeah, you do,â he whispered, lips brushing your ear. âMy good girl. So fuckinâ wet for me. You were dripping on my faceâyou know that?â
You moaned, your body shaking, ass pushing back into him.
âI saw you,â he said, his rhythm stuttering just to drag the next thrust out longer. âWhen I told you to sit on my face? You didnât even hesitate. You just gave it to me.â
You gasped as his hand slid down your back, curving over your ass, squeezing.
âAnd now youâre letting me fuck you like this,â he went on. âTaking every inch like a good little cocksleeve. You want me to fill you up, donât you?â
You shuddered, squeezing around him so tight he groaned.
âYes,â you panted, shameless. âFuck, Buckyâfill me upâpleaseâI want it.â
He slammed into you harder, rhythm picking up again, fast and unforgiving.
âThatâs it,â he growled. âThatâs what I like. You begging. You dripping. You mine.â
You cried out, bracing yourself against the mattress as he drove into you faster now, hand slipping beneath to rub your clit again.
âSay it,â he hissed. âTell me who you belong to.â
âYou,â you choked. âYou, BuckyâIâm yours.â
He groaned deep in his throat, thrusts faltering for a beat like the words knocked something loose in him.
Then he grabbed your hair, gently but firm, pulling you up just enough to kiss your neckâbite itâthen whisper:
âWhen I come, Iâm gonna stay inside you. Gonna keep you full for hours. Walk around dripping with me.â
You whined, thighs shaking, the pressure building againâfaster, sharper.
âBuckyâpleaseââ
His voice was a growl, low and thick with promise.
âCome for me.â
And you did.
Hard.
Your whole body clenched around him, your scream muffled by the sheets as the orgasm ripped through you, sharp and messy, your walls fluttering around his cock.
Your moan was still echoing when he grabbed your waist, pulling you backâup, off the bed, into his lap.
You barely had time to gasp before you were straddling him, his chest pressed flush to your back, his mouth at your neck, and his cock still inside you.
âNot done,â he growled, arms locking around your waist. âNot until I come in you.â
Then he thrust up into youâhard, deep, devastating.
You cried out, your body already overstimulated, every thrust hitting that perfect spot inside you all over again. His hands were everywhereâgripping your hips, spreading your thighs wider, keeping you open for him as he pounded up from beneath you with bruising rhythm.
âFuckâBuckyââ you whimpered, hands flying back to clutch at his hair, his shoulder, anything.
He was relentless.
Grunting with each thrust, hips snapping up into you, his breath ragged against your ear.
âFeel that?â he rasped. âHow deep I am? How youâre still so fuckinâ tight?â
You nodded, moaning, body jerking with every thrust.
âYouâre gonna take it,â he hissed. âEvery drop. Iâm not pullinâ outâyou hear me? Iâm cominâ inside you.â
âYes,â you gasped, barely able to speak. âPleaseâBuckyâfill me upââ
He groaned, deeper than before, thrusts losing rhythm, his grip bruising on your hips as his body started to shake.
âFuckfuckfuckâgonna comeââ
One last thrustâbrutal, finalâand he buried himself in you, arms tightening, head thrown back as he came hard, deep inside you.
You felt it.
Hot.
Thick.
Flooding you as he groaned your name, holding you tight in his lap, still pulsing inside you.
And he didnât let go.
Didnât move.
Just stayed thereâburiedâchest rising against your back, his breath warm at your neck, whispering,
âYouâre mine.â
You collapsed forward onto the bed, body still twitching with aftershocks, breath ragged and uneven. Bucky followed, slow and heavy, staying close, still inside you for a moment longer like he couldnât stand to let you go just yet.
Eventually, he pulled out with a soft groan.
You whimpered at the loss, hips squirming on instinct.
He stayed behind you for a second, hoveringâeyes locked on the way his release slowly dripped out of you, sliding between your thighs and onto the sheets.
You could feel him watching.
You tilted your head back with a lazy grin. âIf youâre gonna stare like that, at least have the decency to offer a towel.â
He huffed a rough laughâhalf-exhausted, half-stunned. âSorry. Just... didnât wanna forget what that looks like.â
You stretched like a cat, all smug satisfaction and afterglow. âYeah, well. Take a picture next time, Barnes.â
He leaned down, kissed your shoulderâsoft, slow, gratefulâthen flopped beside you, dragging the sheet up over your tangled bodies.
His arm wrapped around your waist, warm and heavy.
Neither of you spoke for a minute.
Just the sound of your breathing slowing. Your bodies cooling.
Then he murmured, voice quiet against your skin, âYouâre in my head now.â
You smiled, eyes drifting shut.
âGood,â you whispered. âTook you long enough.â
You lay there, tangled together in the warm quiet, your body still thrumming, skin slick and flushed. Buckyâs arm was wrapped around your waist, his breath slow against the back of your neck, lips occasionally brushing your shoulder like he wasnât even conscious of doing it.
You grinned.
Couldnât help it.
âSoâŠâ you said, voice casual. âHow long you been jerking off to me, Barnes?â
He froze.
You felt the heat bloom off him before he even said a word.
âDonât.â
Your grin widened. âWhat? Itâs a fair question. Based on how fast you devoured me, Iâm guessing⊠at least a month?â
He groaned into your shoulder. âYouâre the worst.â
âIâm right,â you countered. âDonât think I didnât catch the way you almost cried when I said âas you wish, Sergeant.â Youâve been unwell.â
He muttered something unintelligible and buried his face in your neck.
You rolled to face him, propped on one elbow, smirking as you traced a line down his chest.
âSo, tell me,â you purred. âNow that youâve got a taste... what do you want to do to me next time?â
His throat bobbed.
You waited.
âI dunno,â he mumbled.
âOh, you know.â Your nails lightly scratched his ribs. âCome on, be brave. Tell me.â
He grumbled. âYouâre gonna use it against me.â
âCorrect,â you said sweetly. âNow spill.â
He exhaled slowly, then muttered:
â...Sixty-nine.â
You grinned. âClassic. What else?â
He covered his eyes with one hand. âBreeding.â
Your eyebrows lifted, delight flashing in your eyes. âOh? Really leaned into the âstuff me full, Sargeâ angle, huh?â
âShut up.â
âI wonât, actually,â you laughed, leaning closer, lips brushing his ear. âAnything else you wanna act out, Barnes? Any other dirty little fantasies you been keeping locked up?â
He hesitated.
Longer this time.
Thenâreluctantly, quietly:
â...Roleplay.â
You blinked.
Then broke into a slow, wicked grin. âOkay, now this I need to hear.â
âNope,â he said immediately, trying to roll away. âThatâs enough honesty for one nightââ
You climbed on top of him, straddling his hips, pinning him down with a devilish smile. âTell me if I need to show up next time in a pencil skirt and glasses, or if I should wear that SHIELD catsuit and call you âSir.ââ
His eyes snapped open.
And you knew.
You gasped. âOh my god. You have a thing for the whole âsecret agent mission gone sidewaysâ scenario, donât you?â
He groaned, dragging a hand over his face. âPlease stop.â
âYou want me to cuff you to a chair and interrogate you,â you went on gleefully. âOr, waitânoâyou want to interrogate me.â
âIâm begging.â
You leaned in, lips brushing his ear. âYou want me in red lipstick and a wiretap, donât you?â
âIâm never telling you anything again.â
You leaned down, lips brushing his.
âIâm gonna make all your little roleplay dreams come true,â you whispered.
âKill me now,â he muttered.
âNope. Gotta save your energy. Youâre not done with me yet.â
You grinned, smug and sated, curling down against his chest, eyes closing as his arm wrapped around you again.
And beneath your cheek, you felt him smile.
give me fever
âŠBucky Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Read on aO3!âŠ
âŠsummary: you and Bucky hate each other, so it's not unusual for him to act cold around you. but this is differant. this is... feral. and you're starting to wonder what's wrongâŠ
âŠwarnings/tags: bucky barnes x female!reader, enemies to lovers, ragebating Bucky Barnes, emotional angst, everyone's bad at feelings, fluff, sex pollen, sex pollen level smut, a little plot for the porn (dry humping, manhandling, bucky's feral, emotional sex, dry orgasm, truly foul dirty talk, hyperspermia, pussy eating like crazy, fingering, dumbification, dirty talk, sensitive reader, finger sucking, bucky gets nasty, body worship, overstimulation, sex pollen stamnia, mean!bucky, oral f!recieving, begging, praise kink, monster dick bucky, he fucks like a machine, breeding kink), no use of y/n, no descrption of readerâŠ
âŠwc: 11.1kâŠ
âŠAuthor's Note: i'm so normal about sex pollenâŠ
It doesnât bother you. If you tell yourself enough, youâre really going to believe that it doesnât bother you.
But heâs everywhere.Â
There isnât a corner of the damn building without Bucky Barnes. You go to the kitchen and heâs there making a sandwich, watching you move around the counter like he thinks youâre going to bite him. In the gym heâs at the weights and the punching bags, and you try to ignore him but he grunts and moans and you think heâs doing it on purpose. the living area he takes over the TV and watches whatever he wants to catch up with the times. No matter how politely you ask him to switch to something else, he always tells you to just wait. Then you try, but heâs spread out on the couch until your knees have to bump, and your face gets all hot, and you have to stomp away before you start acting on all your stupid thoughts.
Because itâs not just Buckyâs eternal presence and stubbornness and smirking that burrows under your skin. Itâs that you like it.
That when youâre next to him on the couch, all you can think about is that place where your bodyâs connect. Heâs warm. Tall and warm. Your skin tingles at the contact point, and whenever he shifts itâs like youâre being shot up with a drug.
âYouâre squirmy.â He grumbles, glaring at you in the dark. âNo one ever teach you to sit still?â
You stick your tongue out. âNo one ever teach you to mind your own business?â
âHard to mind my business when youâre movinâ all the cushions, doll-â
âThen go sit somewhere else, robot man.â
Buckyâs jaw twitches. âIâm not a robot.â
âUh huh.â
âIâm not-â
âYou act like one.â You snap, and Bucky closes his eyes. Like heâs fucking praying.
âI was here first.â He mutters. You donât balk.
âCongratulations.â
You hold his glare, and Bucky lets out a heavy breath through his nose. He narrows his eyes, tongue flicking over his lips. His full lips. Pretty and chapped, but in the perfect, soft way-
Get a fucking grip.
âThereâs a chair over there.â You point across the room, sinking back into the cushions. âGo sit in it, if Iâm so squirmy.â
Bucky scowls, and opens his mouth, but whatever jab heâs got for you, you donât want to hear it. You reach over and unpause the movieâprobably another one of Samâs this is what you gotta catch up on, Barnes suggestions, because thereâs no way Bucky picked out the Goonies himselfâand fix your glower on the TV screen. You hate this movie. Youâre going to watch it all the way through, just to show Bucky that he doesnât bother you.
You spread your own legs wide, too. If men are allowed to do it, so are you. Bucky grunts as your knee pushes over his thigh, and you smirk at the TV.
It has nothing to do with the thick muscle you can feel under his sweatpants, that you keep your legs like that for the rest of the night. Buckyâs fingers flex a few times, and brush over the inner curve of your knee and the top of your thigh, like heâs thinking about just shoving you away. At one point, you hear him grunt, and look over with mockingly raised brows.
âEverything okay?â You almost simper, and he grunts and nods.
Thatâs all you get. Bucky fixes his anger on the movie, you win this round, and you get to be close to him without thinking about it.
Youâll think about it later. In the comfort of your own bedroom, youâll think about it and think about it and think about it all night. Youâll think about it until your wrist hurts. But Bucky doesnât get to know that.
As far as he needs to be concerned, you never spare him a second thought. Itâs all he spares you. And youâre not going to be the pathetic girl who falls for someone who only thinks of her as a buzzing gnat around his head. Who worships the ground of a man who would step on her like a flower into concrete, not because he was seeking to hurt, but just because he didnât notice you were there at all.
Although Bucky does seem to notice where you are.
The farmer does like to keep track of pests in his crops.
âYou skipped the mission briefing.â Bucky grunts in the morning, glaring at you over a cup of coffee.
Something soft in you swells like a prodded bruise. He noticed where you were.
You ignore it in favor of flipping him off.
âI was busy.â
âToo busy for your job?â
âItâs not my job-â
âYour name was on the roster.â Bucky slams the folder down on the table, and your lips twitch.
âHave you been carrying that around all day?â
âThat doesnât matter-â
âYes, it really does-â
Bucky hisses your name. Thereâs a fury under his tone, that makes your mouth snap shut. If he notices, he doesnât say anything.
âYou need to be there, Steve was talkinâ about safety shit, and if you donât know it you could get killed-â
âI know how mission briefing work, Iâve been here longer than you have-â
âReally? âCause you donât act like it-â
âI donât act like it?â You snort. âLast I checked Iâm ranked higher than you, Sargent.â You raise your chin, letting your lips curl. âWhich is why Iâm allowed to defer missions, and youâre not.â
Bucky blinks, recoiling slightly. âDefer? What, you-â
âIâm skipping.â You shrug, grabbing an apple from the counter. âAnd if Iâm skipping, I donât need to be at the briefing. But thanks for checking on me, dad.â
Buckyâs eyes narrow. You expect him to snap something about experience and you not being responsible enough or needing to care more.
But instead his fists curl and uncurl at his side. His nostrils flare. He grabs the counter, his scowl burning right through you. You take a large bite of your apple, and his gaze darts down. Juice drips down your chin, and you wipe it off with light fingers. That only seems to make him angrier.
âWhyâre you skipping.â
You shrug. You should say none of your business. But part of you is childish. A very big, loud part that wants him to react to something you know he isnât actually going to care about.
âI have a date.â
âA what.â Itâs not a full reaction. Heâs mostly staring at you like he didnât understand the word. Maybe they called it something different in the 40s.
âA date?â You roll your eyes, a little meaner than you mean to be. He always bring that out in you, though.
Bucky always brings everything out in you. Itâs incredibly annoying.
âYou know.â You push mockingly. âWhere you go out with someone. And flirt like people, instead of robots.â
âRobots flirt.â Bucky grunts, and you snort.
âYeah, but they donât have sex-â
The counter cracks. Itâs loud, echoing through the kitchen. You start and twitch, and Bucky blinks at his metal hand, like heâs just as surprised as you are. He looks back to you, shakes his head, and takes a large step back.
âWhatâs-â
âSteveâs callinâ me.â He mutters, and you blink.
âNo, heâs not-â
âHave fun.â Bucky ignores you. His words sound pushed through his teeth. âOn your human date.â
Then heâs gone.
And youâre left in the kitchen with your apple and a cracked counter, staring at where heâd vanished through the door. You donât care about the date.
You just need to know what the fuck that was.
Thereâs a part of you that feels bad, for the man Natasha set you up with. Sheâd picked him out specifically because he had a vague resemblance to Buckyâbecause youâve never told her your secret, but you didnât need to, sheâs Natashaâbut it wasnât enough.
He didnât have the underlying accent, or the gleam in his eyes. You made a sharper edged joke, and he just laughed. He didnât spar. He didnât push your buttons in a way that made you light up. He just smiled at you all nightâwrong smile, tooâand then didnât pay. Bucky wouldâve paid.
You have no evidence of that. Itâs just a feeling, that comes from how he still opens doors for you, even when youâre at each otherâs throats. All polite and handsome and insufferable. You hate him.
And thereâs not a single point during the night, where youâre not thinking about him.
âWe should do this again.â The Dateâyouâve forgotten his name, and itâs certainly not a good time to askâsays at the end of the night.
Youâre shivering. Bucky wouldâve offered you his jacket. He did once, on a mission in the Andes. You got all cold and he rolled his eyes and muttered that he told you to bring another layer, but still gave you his jacket all the same. This man is just grinning at you after not calling you a cab and saying he wanted to stand outside in the misty, chilly night. He said he wanted fresh air, and now your freezing, and he thinks heâs getting a second date.
At the very least, you feel a little less guilty about only thinking of Bucky and the mission the whole time. He deserved it.
âSure.â You smile, because even with superstrength, itâs easier to tell a man yes and then vanish than it is to deny them to their face. âHave a good night.â
He tries to hug you. Your phone buzzes, and you duck away to check it.
The mission is over.
Two days early.
Your jaw tightens.
Most people would think that a job being done early is a good thing. That it means the team was just so focused and coordinated that they sped through every single step, and ended in a total victory. But youâve been on this job too long. Early mission conclusions only ever happen for one reason.
Something went wrong, and they have to come back.
You rush back to the compound with barely a goodnight to the Date. Itâs mostly because you forget, in the blur of worry. Youâd skimmed the mission files before they left, just to make sure it wasnât anything too dangerous. Bucky had been mad about you not going with them. Maybe heâd thought theyâd need the hands, but it had just looked like a retrieval mission. Old Hydra facility with some data Tony wanted. Nothing too hard.
But theyâre back early.
And if someoneâs hurt, you couldâve stopped it. You couldâve been there, instead of on that stupid fucking date. Which also means that Bucky was right, and thatâs incredibly annoying. Heâs going to weild it over your head, and the mocking is going to turn you on more, and youâll have earned it which isnât going to help anything at all.Â
You get back to the compound, and itâs not in lockdown. There arenât med staff flooding the grounds or emergency sirens blaring. You go right to the hanger, and find that itâs already been cleared out. The jet isnât being quarantined.
Maybe they really did just⊠Finish early.
Youâre heading back to your room when you slam right into them.
Steve and Bucky, standing in the middle of the hall, arguing in hushed voices.
âYou need to go, Buck-â
âIâm fine-â
âNo, youâre not. You can lie to the docs, donât lie to me-â
âI ainât lyinâ, Iâm fine-â
Your too lost in your own head, barely even hearing what theyâre saying. You barrel straight into Buckyâs back.
He goes rigid. You stumble a little, and he grabs your upper arm.
His hand is hot.
Not sexy hotâalthough itâs also thatâbut literally, physically hot. Almost searing, against your shivering skin. You look up at him, and swallow.
Heâs flushed. Thereâs sweat clinging to his brow, and an exhausted shadow over his features. His eyes are so blown out theyâre almost fully black. You blink at him, and his mouth falls open in a ragged pant.
âHi.â You whisper.
His throat bobs. âYouâre back.â
âI- I got the alert.â You glance over to Steve, whoâs gone oddly pale. âDid the mission go okay? It was fine that I wasnât there, right-â
âYep!â Steve almost shouts, and you blink. âI mean- We were all good. Wish you were there, we all missed you, but- We were fine. Right, Buck?â Steve grabs Buckyâs shoulder. âWe were all good.â
Bucky doesnât look away from you for a single second. He grunts, and his grip tightens on your arm.
âLet go.â Steve mutters, and Bucky shoots him a glare.
He releases you like you burned him, then wipes his hand on his pants. You scowl. He was the one touching you.
âI was gonna.â He grumbles, and Steve sighs.
âI know, but-â You get a weary look. Like Steve doesnât want you to hear their conversation. âI think- You know what I think-â
âSteve-â Bucky cuts himself off with a groan, running a hand over his face.
He still hasnât looked away from you. Or moved that far out of your proximity.
âIâm fine.â He says, low and under his breath. Youâre rooted to the ground under his gaze, unsure what you could even think of to say. âItâs- Iâm fine.â
Steveâs lips press in a thin line. Bucky takes a large, jerking step back. Like heâs dragging himself away.
âHow was your date?â He grunts.
âBucky-â
âIâm just askinâ a question.â He snaps, still not sparing Steve a look.
The attention is getting to be too much. Bucky is looking at you like he wants to eat you alive, and itâs making your body almost buzz in anticipation. You want to jump on him and feel those hot hands all over your body. His nostrils flare like he can smell your arousal. If he can, you might jump off a bridge.
You hope heâd catch you, then fuck you until your canât even walk.
Get a fucking grip.
âBad.â You cross your arms over your chest, trying to keep your heart from bursting out of your chest. âHe sucked.â
And thatâs the kind of thing Bucky would usually mock you for. Skipping a mission just for a bad date.
But a low, rumbling growl falls from his chest. His tongue darts over his lips. He takes a half-step forward, and you lean in to the gravity of his stare.
âWe have debriefing!â Steve shouts, grabbing the collar of Buckyâs suit. âBye!â
Before you can even register it, Steveâs dragging Bucky down the hall. You swear you hear another feral noise, and a crash after they turn the corner.
Something had to have happened on the mission. You just have no fucking clue what.
Buckyâs only been acting stranger. Youâd pretend it didnât bother you, if you could get away from it for a single fucking second.
You walk through the compound, and heâs somehow more everywhere than he was before. Around every corner, in the library, on the grounds, even in the control room while youâre going through the mission files.
âWhatâre you doinâ.â He grunts, and you sigh.
Youâre not surprised heâs there. Itâs the fifth time today that heâs snuck up on you.
âIâm going through the reports on the mission.â You drawl. âDonât you have better things to do than follow me around?â
Bucky grunts. It seems to be a no. You roll your eyes and go back to poking through the system. Itâs hard to pretend that you canât feel his presence behind you. Thereâs heat almost rolling from his body, and thick, spicy and musky scent thatâs filling the room. Itâs making you a little dizzy. Itâs all you can do, not to look back at him.
That would be dangerous. He probably still looks feverish and animalistic. You might moan.
You find the files for the mission, and try to open them. Big, read access denied, contact your handler for permission to these files flashes over your screen. Your mouth falls open, and you whip back to glare at Bucky before you can think about it.
Mistake. Just like youâd thought, big mistake.
He looks even worse and better than you thought. Heâs wearing just a t-shirt and sweats, and theyâre clinging to his sweaty body. His eyes are hooded and his lips are parted. His attention is so wholly fixed on you that it almost makes you fall out of your chair. You almost forget youâre annoyed with him. Every single nerve in your body is alight, and your fingers are itching to comb through his sweaty hair.
You somehowâjust barelyâfight it.
âWhy canât I access these files.â
Bucky leans over you, his nostrils flaring. If you reach up, you could trace the stubbled line of his jaw. Itâs hard to maintain your glare.
âBarnes-â
âYou werenât on the mission.â He mutters. âNot your files to see.â
You scowl. âI can access the files of every other mission I was on-â
âSteve should change that.â
God, you wish he wasnât so pretty. It would be easier to think about punching him.
âI know something happened out there.â You hiss, sitting up a little taller. âYou canât hide it from me. Iâll figure it out.â
Bucky chuckles. Itâs a low, raspy sound that runs through your body, making you shiver.
âSure, doll. Have fun with that.â
You shoot to your feet, and Bucky lurches back. Another one of those deep, rumbling growls rolls from his chest, and for a second you think heâs going to pounce on you.
And then you blink, and heâs gone. Leaving you with only that hazy smell, and desire rolling through your veins.
You wish that was the extent of it, but itâs barely the start. And it only gets worse.
Bucky doesnât do his movie nights anymore, which means you get the TV all to yourself. You watch what you want, and try not to look at the spot next to you. Where your body feels like heâs supposed to be. You stretch out your legs, but they ache strangely without his touch. You get more restless without him. Around midnight, you shuffle to the kitchen, hoping one of those soothingherb thingys that Wanda says help with her nightmares will be there.
Instead, you find Bucky.Â
Heâs drinking a glass of ice, with a little bit of water. He freezes when he sees you, and moves further behind the counter.
You sigh. Youâre too tired to fight him.
âCanât sleep?â You mumble.
He just nods.
You sigh, and walk over the cupboard.
âYou want hot chocolate?â
A grunt. Better than silence. You make two mugs, one for you, one for Bucky.
And maybe itâs just that youâre really starting to worry, but you donât bother pretending to hate him. Your fingers brush when you pass him his mug, and his body seizes like you shocked him, but you just offer a tiny smile.
His mouth falls open. He stares at you like heâs spent years only looking at the muddier reflection of stars in the water, and has finally thought just to tilt his head up. You let out a small, shaking breath. Heâs still burning up. You can feel it from your place a foot away. But you donât dare to push it.
Not when heâs looking at you like this. The way youâd always, secretly and shamefully, dreamed he would.
âIâm watching Star Wars.â You mumble. âYou wannaâŠâ
You trail off, and Buckyâs throat bobs.
He nods again. A new tendril of worry blooms, overlapping with the growing tangle of them in your gut. He might not be able to speak.
But he follows you to the living area, and takes his place on the couch. His knee pushes against yours. Heâs breathing awfully shallow, but youâre a selfish coward that wants him close, so you donât mention it.
You barely pay attention to the movie. All you can focus on is Bucky at your side. How he doesnât even seem to be sparing the TV a glance. Heâs not really touching you, save for that place where your thighs are always pushed together, but every time you shift he grabs your knee. You blink at him, and his throat just bobs. He still hasnât said a word. Youâre afraid that when he does, it will break this fragile illusion.
That he wants to be here.
Near you.
He passes out near the end of the movie. His head falls against your shoulder and his body goes limp, almost a blanket over yours. You donât move, just staring at a lit up, black screen. He looks more peaceful than youâve ever seen. His fever isnât breaking, but it does seem to be easing. You run your fingers through his hair, and he makes a low sound like a purr.
Then he takes a deep inhale, right against the crook of your neck, and a different noise leaves him.
Itâs almost a moan.
You swallow. Suddenly you need to move. You donât know whatâs going on with him, but this canât be what he actually wants. To be asleep almost in your arms, purring and moaning. Thatâs not a part of him you get to have.
But when you try to move, his grip around you tightens.
You feel almost sick.
It takes almost an hour, to roll off the couch without him pulling you back. When youâre free, you still cover him in a blanket and press a hand to his brow. Just to check. You canât really help it.
His fever is building again.
You wish he would just tell you what was wrong. Even if he thinks you hate him, he canât think you wouldnât care enough to help.
When you start to walk away, he moans again. You could swear it sounded a little like your name.
You force yourself to go to bed. Youâre not sure if you want him to remember in the morning.
If anything, you just pray he gets better. Itâs hard to hide your undying care for him, when heâs in pain. Impossible to ignore how much it bothers you, that heâs hurting. â
But it is Bucky.
And heâs never going to make anything that easy.
You walk out of your room in the morning, and heâs right there. Lingering in the hallway, staring at you with those blown-out eyes, working his jaw like heâs trying to bite his own tongue off.
âHi.â You say lamely.
He stumbles back like you punched him. âYou- Youâre-â
âBucky, are you-â
ââM fine.â He says it mostly to himself again. Thereâs sweat gathering on his brow and bags under his eyes.
Youâre not going to tell him, but youâre getting worried. This is the third morning in a row youâve found him here. The first night you asked if heâd slept there, and heâd scowled and stomped away.
But from the look of him, you donât think heâs been sleeping at all.
âDo you need something?â You ask. You sound soft, but you canât help it. The worse he looks, the more your heart tightens. âI can call Steve-â
âDonât get Steve.â He steps back. The same jerked movement from the first night. Itâs the only way heâs been moving around you, lately. âIâm fine.â
You give him a doubtful look. His tongue flicks over his lips. You take a step forward, and he takes another step back. Like youâve got a polarity field around you. Like he canât even stand to breathe the same air.
And yet heâs here. Outside your door, and breathing through his mouth like an animal.
âBucky-â
âDonât.â He shakes his head, stumbling another step back. âJust- Donât.â
You swallow, and donât give chase when he walks away. Jogs away. He yanks himself away, then runs like he thinks youâre going to catch him and drag him back. You wonât.
But you do go right to Steve.
âWhat happened on the mission.â
Steve flinches, gagging on his sandwich. Youâre glaring down at him with your hands on your hips, and you think he knows his little charming smile isnât going to work on you here. That doesnât seem to stop him from trying anyway.
âHey, um- Do you want a cookie-â
âSteven.â You hiss, and he swallows. âWhat happened.â
Steve winces, avoiding your gaze. âIâm not supposed to tell you.ââ
âWhat do you mean youâre not supposed to tell me-â
âI mean I- I can.â He mutters. âBut then Bucky will kill me. And I donât want Bucky to kill me.â
You scowl. âTough shit, because guess whoâs going to kill you if you donât tell me?â
Steve sighs. âIs it you?â
âYep.â
He stares at his sandwich, like itâs somehow going to get him out of this situation. You wait for him to realize it wonât. You have plenty of time.
âIâm really not supposed to tell you-â
âI really donât care.â
âWell- You will.â Steve looks up with a sad little puppy eyes.
You donât have the same reservations about punching him in the face, that you have with Bucky. Heâs basically asking for it right now.
âSteven, I swear to fucking God-â
âI canât tell you.â He cuts you off with a shake of his head, and you scoff.
âNo, you just wonât tell me-â
âThatâs not- I canât, okay? Please stop asking me to-â
âWhy, because Bucky doesnât want you to?â You leer. âBecause last I checked, youâre the Captain. And if Bucky is your friend, you should be telling his teammates heâs in danger so they can help-â
âThatâs the problem!â Steve shouts, and you blink. âYou- Look, youâre going to want to help, and I canât let you.â
âYou canât let me help?â You echo, and Steve winces.
âI know how it sounds-â
âDo you? Because what Iâm fucking hearing that your best friend is in danger, and you wonât let me fucking help-â
âWhy do you even want to help?â Steve fixes you with a pointed look. âAll you ever do is complain about Bucky and how heâs annoying you. I wouldâve thought you didnât care.â
You narrow your eyes, and Steve raises his brows. You know what heâs doing. Smug fucking asshole.Â
âThat wonât work on me.â You grunt, and he shrugs.
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
âSteve-â
âBut,â he says causally. âIf I did, Iâd say thatâs why I canât tell you. And you know that.â
You hate it when he speaks in riddles. Like youâre just supposed to read between the lines when your brain is fogged with worry about Bucky.
âI- I donât-â You let out a slow breath, looking down to your shoes. Heat is flooding your cheeks. Itâs annoying. âItâs not- Iâm just- Please.â
Your voice cracks suddenly. Youâve been losing more sleep over this than youâre ever going to tell anyone. You almost feel ill with itâlike the worry is an infection, knotting up your stomach and making your heart pick upâbut that might just literal exhaustion. Something happened. No one will tell you what. Itâs making you feel useless and hopeless and torn up to tiny, useless shreds.
âBucky.â You say slowly. âIs- Heâs not okay. I know heâs not okay.â You force yourself to meet Steveâs gaze. âJust- Lie to me and say heâs fine, and fix it, or tell me and let me help. But I- I canât just-â
You donât even know how to finish the sentence. Thereâs a burning feeling behind your eyes and a lump in your throat. Youâre so worried. Worried this is something thatâs going to kill him, and youâre going to lose him forever.
And thereâs pity, in Steveâs gaze. Itâs enough to make him break, his voice softening completely.
âAlright.â He murmurs. âBut- You canât tell him I told you.â
You nod quickly. âIâll say I just got into the files, or- Something- Please.â
Steve sighs. âOkay. Okay.â He shakes his head. âIt was on the mission. Bucky was distracted the whole time, and when we got jumped he wasnât being controlled with his punches. He swag to hard on an Hydra agent. Knocked them back into some vials, and- Well they burst. All over both of them. We put the agent in containment, but he was displaying worse symptoms. Bucky- I think itâs the serum, or just⊠Bucky. But heâs been controlling it better.â Steve grimaces. âBut that doesnât mean heâs not still knocked up with stuff.â
You nod slowly. Thatâs not that bad.
But Steve didnât want you to know for a reason.
âWhat are the symptoms?â
Steve wonât meet your gaze. âFever. Nausea. Hormone flares. Um- Increased⊠libido.â
Your eyes widen, your mouth falling open. âWhat.â
âHydra makes some weird stuff. Tony thinks this was, um- A breeding drug. We donât know why they were developing it, but- Thereâs no other name.â Steveâs nose wrinkles. âThe agent- His cell is disgusting.â
âBut- Bucky-â
âI told you, he says heâs got it under control.â Steve shrugs, but doesnât really sound like heâs convinced himself. âThe agent has been, ah⊠begging for anyone. Bucky doesnât have the same liberty with what will help. He says itâs going to pass, and heâll be fine.â
âAnd will it?â You breathe. âPass?â
Steve shrugs. âIt did for the agent.â
âBefore or after the mating?â
Steveâs silence is an answer. You swear under your breath.
âWhy wouldnât you tell me this, Steve? We- We need to get him to someone, this could fucking kill him-â
âI know that!â Steve snaps. âI know that just as well as you do! As he does! But- Jesus.â He shakes his head. âHe wonât take anyone. Heâll only- Well- You know.â
âI know? I donât fucking know, none of you have been telling me shit-â
Steve says your name plainly. You blink.
âWhat-â
âNothing. Just- Why do you think heâs been lingering around you?â
You stare at him. He raises his brows, and you swallow.
âSteve-â
âI didnât say anything-â
âYes, you did-â
âNope.â
You press your lips in a tight line. He canât mean what you think he means. That would be to easy. Too good. âBucky- He doesnât- Thatâs not how he feels about me.â
Please donât say it is. Itâs not fair if youâre lying.
âFunny.â Steve shrugs. âHe says the same thing about you.â
This is a bad idea.
Bucky hasnât left his room in a day. Youâd spent all of last night replaying your conversation with Steve, trying to pick it apart for a single reason he didnât mean what you thought he did. What you hoped he did. What youâd always hoped for, only in the dead of night where no one would ever find out.
But it didnât matter how you turned or picked at Steveâs words. There was only one conclusion. The beautiful, horrible one that you canât even fully wrap your head around. It would mean you spent years hating him for no reason. Year thinking about kissing his stupid face, when you couldâve been actually kissing him. If Steveâs right, youâre going to kill Bucky.
After you fix this for him.
If Steve means what you think, you can fix this for him. He just has to let you.
Which is why this is a horrible idea. If Bucky turns you down, youâre going to have to quit your job and change your name and move to Indonesia.
But if he doesnât turn you downâŠ
You steel yourself and knock on Buckyâs door. Itâs worth the risk, just for him. Always just for him.
âFuck off, Stevie-â
âIâm not Steve!â You call, and for a second thereâs no response.Â
Then thereâs a muffled banging, and you almost fall forward when Bucky yanks the door open.
He looks even worse than before. And better. And hotter, and oh God, your knees are already weak.
His shirt is gone, and his broad, muscled chest is shining with sweat. His hair flops over his eyes, mussed up and soft looking. Heâs breathing through his nose, even as his swollen mouth hangs open. His metal fist is curled against the door, making the wood crack under his fingers. Standing through his sweatpants is the long, proud outline of his cock.
You swallow, your mouth watering. Bucky says your name, and you canât tell if itâs supposed to be a plea or a prayer.
âYou shouldnât be here-â
âSteve said you need me.â
You stare at each other. Buckyâs tongue flicks out, and you chew on your lower lip. This is it. If he turns you down, youâll walk away and live. A new life, across the world. Youâve never been to Indonesia, but you hear they have good food and community, and youâre sure youâll be able to fit right in over time, and if you donât at least Bucky will never find you to make you relive this humiliation, because itâs been almost two full minutes and he hasnât said anything, so you should probably pull out your phone and start researching Indonesian names-
âSteve shouldnât have told you anything.â Bucky growls, and you swallow.
âI- I made him.â
He sighs. You could swear his dick twitches. âOf course you did.â
âI was worried about you-â
âYou donât have to be, doll. Iâm-â
âIf you say Iâm fine, Iâm going to fucking punch you.â
Bucky scowls. You scowl harder. You have a feeling neither of you are going to back down.
âYouâre sick.â You say plainly, and Bucky lets out a sharp exhale through his nose.
âMaybe. But itâs not the kinda sick you can help with-â
âSteve says itâs the kind of sick only I can help with.â
Heâs silent again. You risk a tiny step forward, and he takes one back, muttering your name. Itâs a warning. A plea.
âDonât do this.â He mutters, fists balled at his side. âNot outta pity, not for me-â
âItâs not pity.â You stop in his doorway, making your voice soft. âI want to help, Bucky. Let me help.â
He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. âNo, you- You just- You donât feel like that for me-â
âYou donât feel like that for me.â You breathe, and Buckyâs body locks up.
âWho says?â
âYouâre an ass to me-â
âYouâre an ass to me.â
âI donât mean to be.â You whisper. âI- I donât- Iâm not good at⊠You know.â
Buckyâs throat bobs. He still doesnât move.
âMe neither.â
You nod. âButâŠâ
âYeah.â He swallows. âYeah. I do.â
You take a deep breath. His whole room is filled with that musky, spicy smell. The heat is almost rolling off his body.
âPlease ask me to help.â You donât bother to hide the desperation in your voice. He needs to know that you mean it. âI- I want to, Bucky, I want you so bad-â
Bucky muffles your pleas, crashing forward and pressing his mouth over yours.
Itâs not the soft, loving kiss of your fantasies. Itâs rough and desperate, the kiss of a man finally letting his leash snap. He grabs your neck and scrunches his fingers in your hair, dragging a moan from the back of your throat. It turns into a hungry cry, when he pushes his tongue between your lips. Your knees wobble from the bruising force of it. You grab his shirt for balance, scrunching the fabric between your fingers.
Bucky grunts, pressing further over you. One arm drops to wrap around your waist, and the other slide up to cradle the back of your head. The touch his shockingly gentle, for the demanding way heâs almost eating your kisses. Youâre standing nowhere near a wall, but heâs caged you all the same. Thereâs nothing to do but feel the way his cool, metal fingers dig into your hips, and the unrelenting heat of his mouth.
You kiss until your breathing is ragged. He tastes like mint and salt, and itâs a little addictive. Even after youâre light-headed and whimpering, Bucky sucks on your lower lip and takes just a little more. You whimper, gasping for air that he doesnât seem to need. He tugs on your hair, forcing you to tip your neck back, and he plants open, hungry kisses over every place he can reach.
âYou gotta be sure.â He murmurs against your skin. âTell me youâre sure, doll, âcause- I donât think I can go easy.â
And oh God, isnât that lovey thought. Bucky not going easy. Combined with his tongue flicking over a pulse point, you almost fall over from the pure thought of it.
But heâs asking real permission. His hold on your hip is getting tighter, and his shoulders are squared and tense. Heâs keeping himself from taking what he really wants, until you give him total permission.
You didnât know you could want him more.
âI- Oh-â Your eyes flutter, as he nips on sensitive skin under your jaw before kissing away the hurt. âIâm sure, Bucky, I- I donât want you to go easy.â
For some reason, that only makes him more tense. He takes an uneven breath, pressing his brow against your head and almost pulling you off your feet as he hugs you tighter. You wait, slowly wrapping your arms around him and dragging your nails soothingly over the nape of his neck.
Bucky draws himself back, his expression unreadable as he scans over your face. You offer him a tiny, nervous smile, and he lets out a shaky laugh.
âYou- You got no idea, do you?â
Your face falls to a pout. âI have a lot of ideas-â
âNo, you donât.â He drops his brow over yours. âYou got no fuckinâ clue, what you do to me.â
And your brain stalls. It gets all gooey and soft, as you just blink up at him. Youâre already on unsteady legs. You never thought heâd catch you if you fell, but with the way Buckyâs looking at you right now, you think heâd dive off a cliff to be at your side.
âBuckyâŠâ You breathe, and he drops his forehead against yours. Your noses bump. His gaze darts between your lips and eyes, and you think you might be burning alive.
âYou smell so good.â He mutters, before leaning down to press a soft, sweet kiss to your lips. âTaste better than I imagined.â
âYou-â You almost whimper, when he pulls away. âYou imagined?â
He chuckles, kissing just your upper lip. Youâre already putty under his hands, and you might turn to just a steam of desire if he doesnât stop kissing you so softly.
âDidnât you?â
You nod, and Buckyâs lips twitch.
âBet I imagined more.â
And you doubt that, but Buckyâs kissing you again before you can tell him that you imagined so much it scared you sometimes. The way you were sure that youâd never be able to recover, from an addiction to a drug youâd never even taken.
Youâre certainly never going to recover now. Kissing Bucky is even better than youâd let yourself dream about. His lips are just as soft as you thought. Even with the way heâs holding himself back, his touch is possessive. He traces your sides like heâs trying to memorize them, and kisses you the same way.
âGot no idea what Iâm gonna do to, either.â He rasps against your lips. âIf you let me, doll⊠You shouldnât- But-â He groans, pushing his nose into your cheek, kissing over the slope of your jaw. âFuck, I want you to.â
You want him to. You want to feel those sloppy, devout kisses everywhere, to get that infernal tongue between your legs. His cock is almost bursting through his sweats, protruding into your thigh. Heâd be heavy on your tongue, and split you better than the toys that youâve used in his place before. The ache in your core throbs from just the idea, and you can feel your heart trying to burst all out of your throat with confession of desire and adoration. But youâre not sure if heâs going to believe them.
âTell me.â You whisper. âTell me what youâve dreamed about doing to me.â
Bucky pulls back, and you worry youâve stepped on an invisible landmine. That youâre going to be shoved out of the room, the door slammed in your face instead of behind you, locking you out of the room youâve longer to be in since you met him. Bucky stares at you. You open your mouth to apologize and take it back, but he loves to move faster than your lustdrunk mind can understand.
You squeal as he walks you backward, but not out of the room. He kicks his door shut as you pass it. It slams, right as Bucky pins you between against the wall. He kisses you before you can protest or ask questions, and keeps going until youâre squirming against him and unsure if you should pull him closer or push him away. His kisses wander your cheeks, over your nose and hairline and back down to your ear.
âI wanted you just like this.â He chokes out, and your swallow. He sounds wrecked, and youâre not even kissing anymore. âWanted you everywhere. Would see you in a meetinâ and think about bending you over the table. Youâd get under me on the training mats and Iâd wanna get in a headlock between your legs. Bet you taste so good.â
He shudders, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. His dick has shifted to push right near your core, and itâs almost too much pressure, while not being nearly enough.
âWould sit next to you on the plane and think about gettinâ on my knees.â He rasps, beard ticking against your skin. âWorshipping your pussy like it deserves. Makinâ you- Fuck- Call my name-â
Bucky moans, his hips jerking forward. A tiny moan escapes your lips, and Bucky almost whines and does it again. You donât think he can help it.
âWanted to stuff your pretty little lips with my cock.â He thrusts again, his whole weight almost collapses over your body. âYouâd get all mouthy and I- I jerk off to the idea of puttinâ you over my knee or gettinâ you lying in my bed. Iâd- Iâd fuck you so nice, doll, I swear Iâd be good, but- Fuuuck-â
Heâs rutting between your thighs, and seems to forget the story heâs supposed to be telling you in favor of sucking on your neck. You whimper, pushing your hand between your bodies. Not to stop himânever to stop himâbut to wrap your fingers around his cock through his sweats.
Bucky moans, his voice breaking with raw, starved relief. You try to pull him back to kiss him, but he just wraps closer around you. Heâs almost shaking. You think heâs trying not to fuck your hand.
You canât have that.
âItâs okay.â You drag your fingers over the line of his cock, and he whimpers against your neck. âI- Iâve thought about it too.â
Bucky slams forward, and you smile at the air.
âWanted you to shove me down and fuck me stupid. Wanted to ride you until I passed out. I bought a dildo, baby, just to pretend it was you.â
You use your free hand to pet the back of his head, slowly sliding his sweats down to give yourself better access. Buckyâs thick and heavy in your hand. Your fingers donât even come close to wrapping fully around, and whenever your nails graze his balls, he bucks forward with a strangled moan.
âWasnât as big.â You breathe, stroking his dick in long, tight motion. âYouâre so big, Bucky, I donât think itâs gonna fit.â
He grunts, his teeth grazing your neck. âGonna- Fuck-â
You squeeze him at the base, and he doubles over. Heâs almost fully collapsed against you. You want to feel him come apart.
âGonna make it fit.â He hisses in your ear, and you hum.
âHow?â
âOpen you up.â He mutters, words slurred like heâs drunk. âGet you all over me, doll- Wanna watch you cum over and over and- God-â
His dick is twitching, and you giggle. Heâs working himself up.
âYou think this is funny?â He rasps.
You smile, swiping your thumb over the weeping slit of his dick. âA little. You wanna make me cum but you wonât even touch me.â
He makes an annoyed sound, and tries to push off of you. You tug his cock a little harder, and he falls back over with a moan. You giggle again.
âYou- Youâre a fuckinâ brat-â
âIâm helping you, Barnes.â You whisper in his ear.
He chuckles, and the sound rolls through your body. âHelpinâ me would be sitting on my face- Fuck-â
Buckyâs whole body shakes, when you squeeze him one last time, and his control slip. You pet him through his orgasm, unsure if you want him to notice how you press your legs tighter to try and get more stains of his cum. He pants and groans against your skin, his lips latching back around that one bruise he seems to be obsessed with.
Thereâs so much cum. Bucky grinds into your fist, and it just keeps coming and coming and coming until your fingers are sticky and drenched. The idea of him doing that inside you is almost a little terrifying. Youâve never wanted anything more.
A choked sound like your name comes out, muffled against your skin. You smile, leaning back to try and meet his gaze.
Bucky seems to need a second. You hope you didnât already wear him out.
âYou okay?â You whisper, and he tenses.
Bucky pulls back, and your pulse picks up into a drum.
Whatever heâd been before, it had been tame compared to this. His jaw is clenched, his attention fixed on you like a predator. His chest heaves, his hands limp at his side. You swallow, feeling a lot smaller than you did a second ago.
You canât stop yourself from looking down. It only makes things worse.
Heâs bigger than he felt. His cum is dripping down his thigh, and itâs barely been a minute, but heâs already getting hard again. You drag your eyes up the expanse of his chestâall flushed skin and muscleâand realize he hasnât stopped staring at you. You lick your lips. He mimics the movement.
âIt wonât fit.â You says again, but your tone has lost all the teasing mockery of before.
And Buckyâs smirk is dangerous. A thrill rushes through you at the sight of it. Youâve gotten exactly what you wanted.
âGonna make it fit.â He growls.
You yelp, as he grabs your wrist and yanks you forward. You donât even slam into his chest before heâs lifting you off the ground with another mind numbing kiss. Itâs a distraction. You know that. You donât really care, though, returning it in a second.
Bucky carries you like youâre a doll, your knees bent like some princess and his warmer arm locked around your waist. He leans over, lowering you to the mattress with a shocking care. For a second youâre fully lost in him. The gentle motion of his lips over yours, the way his hands wander and map your body as he settles you into the mattress.
âSo soft.â He mutters. âAll that bite, doll, but I knew youâd be so fuckinâ soft for me.â
Youâd like to protest, and say that youâre not soft. But Buckyâs kisses are making your head spin, and no single, clear word can make it out of the daze. All you manage is a high, long whine.
Bucky chuckles. His hand pushes under your shirt, almost tickling over your sides.
âYou like that?â He tease, his knuckles tracing over the underside of your boobs. âYou like beinâ my sweet girl?â
You are not sweet. You try to snap that, but it mostly just comes out a feral grumble. You donât know how heâs the one with a sound mind right now. Youâre not under a sex drug.
Youâre just under Bucky. Where itâs very, very warm, and sticky, and nice. His cum is dripping over your clothed core and midriff. You shiver as it hits bare skin, and Bucky smirks against your lips.
âSay it and I give you more.â He rasps. âSay you like it.â
And itâs a game. You know that you like it. He does too. But heâs poking and teasing you, trying to get you spar with him. To get you to play.
So you glare at him when he leans back, spreading your legs wider at the same time. You keep your mouth stubbornly shut.
Bucky grins. He traces the curve of your hips with massive hands, his thumb angling to smear his cum over your navel.
âLook at you.â He mocks. âBegginâ for me and then canât even admit she likes it.â
You wrinkle your nose, turning up your chin. Bucky smacks your inner thigh, then rubs his metal palm right over your pussy. The sudden sting then harsh pleasure make your hips push off the bed with a cry. Bucky takes his hand away to splay it on your abdomen, shoving you back down.
âYou like gettinâ tossed around, too?â He laughs, and heat floods right to your core. âIâll toss you around, baby. Make you into a nice little cockslut for me, even let you put my in that pretty mouth.â
He grabs your jaw, and you part your lips in a second. Bucky groans, his cock getting impossibly harder.
âAlready listen so well.â He mutters, teasing his two forefingers over your mouth. âJust can admit you fuckinâ love it, do you? Canât be a good girl and tell the truth.â
You narrow your eyes in defiance, and pretend to bite down on his fingers. Itâs not a real bite. Just teeth grazing knuckles. But Bucky understands what it means.
Permission to go further.
His eyes gleam. His cock is already leaking with pre-cum.
âAlright, babydoll.â He rubs your thighs, a dangerous smile playing on his lips. âHave it your way.â
In a single second, Bucky rips off your clothing like itâs paper. You barely have time to feel the cold of the air before heâs grabbing your waist, flipping you onto your stomach, and dragging your ass up in the air. You yelp, fisting your hands in the sheets, and try to twist and see where he is.
A dazed part of your brain that doesnât remember his hands on your hips sees no one behind you, and almost freaks out.
Then the first stroke of Buckyâs tongue hits your pussy, and you collapse fully into the sheets.
âOh my-â Your eyes roll back, as he teases the very tip of his tongue around your clit before dragging it through your folds. âOh my God-â
âSensitive fuckinâ pussy.â Bucky muses, and you feel the stubble of his cheek pressing against you thigh. âBarely even touching it. Wonder if I-â
 His thumb drags circles just around your clit, and you squeak. He kisses the curve of your ass, going a little fast. You whine trying to drag your own ass in circles to match his motions. You canât see him. Canât know if youâre doing well outside of his lips tracing your thigh, and the pleased hums against your skin.
Bucky jerks his thumb suddenly to the side, pushing directly over your clit. You scream, your knees sliding back. Bucky grabs them and pushes them back up, fully exposing your pussy to the air.
âLook at you.â His breath is warm, over that most sensitive spot. âBet I donât even need to fuckinâ prep you. Youâre so wet, youâd justâŠâ
He makes a deep, rumbling sound, and you almost sob as he drags his tongue right back between your puffed pussy lips. You clench around nothing, his stubbled scraping your clit. Bucky angles his face, letting his tongue flick over your clit. It goes back and forth and back and forth, toying with it before pressing flat. He sucks, hard like a lollipop, and you almost sob into the mattress.
âSweet.â Bucky whispers, his metal arm wrapping around your legs. âSo fuckinâ sweet.â
âBu- Bucky-â
âShhh.â He kisses right over your pussy. âWanna taste, pretty girl. I gotta fuckinâ-â He moans, and the vibration shoots right up your spine. âGotta taste-â
Bucky presses his face fully into your cunt, and the sound that leaves you almost isnât human.
Heâs good at this. So good at this. Itâs a little unfair. Your mouth canât do anything but hang uselessly open, as Bucky works his jaw against you. He eats you like heâs starved for it. Like heâs a man that wants to drown of an insatiable thirst.
Two hands hold you up in the air, as his tongue plunges ruthlessly in and out of your cunt. You keen, trying to push further back, and the warmer hand wraps up to your spine and shoves your stomach down. Itâs a tighter fit like this. Bucky drags his tongue around, and it hits every sensitive area. His beard tickles and scratches, and cold fingers tease your skin.
You get more and more sensitive, with every flick and suck and groan. Youâre so wet itâs almost drooling down your legs, mixing with the stains of cum heâd gathered from your midriff and smeared over your legs. The dual heat with his cold hand makes all your nerves stand on end. You pussy clenches again, and Bucky chuckles.
âThatâs right.â He mutters, making out with your clit as you gasp for air into the bed. âThatâs it, baby, youâre already lettinâ go, arenât you.â
You whine, and Bucky nips at your ass.
âArenât you?â
âYe- Yes.â You mumble. ââS good, Bucky- So good-â
âI know.â He grunts, pressing his cold, metal thumb down into your clit. âFuck, baby, I know.â
You whimper, and Bucky starts up on your dripping pussy again. Heâs lapping at it, pushing his tongue into your tight hole as he plays with your clit, and white lines your vision.
âI- Iâm gonna- Fuck- Bucky-â You scratch at the sheets. âIâm gonna- Oh God-â
He smacks your clit, spits onto your pussy, and resumes with double the effort. You cry his name, as your orgasm wracks your body. You can feel yourself seizing around him, twitching and writhing in his tight grip as your vision lines with white.
And Bucky doesnât stop. Youâre making a mess all over his face, and heâs rising up, but itâs just pushing you further into the mattress. You whimper, your cunt too sensitive, but he doesnât even come up for air.
âShit- Bucky- Oh- Ohhhhh-â
The ache quickly fades into pleasure again. Blinging pleasure thatâs just on the wrong side of too much, but pleasure all the same. You squeal, and Bucky just moans against your cunt.
Then you hear it. The slam of his fist against his cock.
Heâs jerking off while he eats you out. Heâs fucking himself so hard you can hear it, hear the slap of skin, feel all his little moans and grunts right against your pussy, and the thought sends you right over the edge again.
Bucky moans louder, as you cum on his tongue. Just like before, it seems to make him more and more feral. You have a feeling what lucidity that let him tease you before is gone. Heâs eating you out the same way heâs kissed you, with rough lips and a fervor thatâs almost animalistic. Youâre boneless and whimpering into the sheets, taking it over and over as Bucky just keeps working his mouth against your cunt, and fucking his hand.
Then, suddenly, heâs gone. You whine from the lose, trying to roll over and look at him, but he just shoves you back down with a growl. The sound of his hand is getting faster and faster, and a hot weight drops over your back. Bucky presses his face into your neck, and takes a deep breath. You whimper, and he groans. His hips must be rocking, with how the bed is shaking.
âSmells good.â He rasps. âGonna- Fuck-â
Bucky snaps back up, and you feel him cum more than you even hear it. Hot ropes spurt over your ass and back, seeping down the back off your thighs and into your pussy. You moan at the sensation, pushing back on trembling hands. Thereâs always just more of it, until youâre so marked up with him youâre sure youâll never be able to wash it off.
You donât want to.
With how Bucky grabs your hips and spreads the stain over your skin, you donât think he does either.
âShit.â He breathes out, and you hum in agreement. âGotta- Flip for me, câmon-â
Bucky helps you roll over. His touches are gentle again, but the gleam in his eyes hasnât faded. You blink at him, flat on your back with your legs spread. Bucky traces the lips of your cunt, then slowly pushes two fingers inside you. Fucking his cum back into your tight hole. You mewl, eyes fluttering. Your head tosses back, and Bucky smiles
âGood girl.â He coos.
You try not get all gooey and weak just from the praise. Bucky laughs, and you think you mightâve failed.
âStrangling my fingers, doll.â He teases, pulling them right out.
You whimper. Youâre too wet and ready not to take something. Itâs really not fair to make you wait.
âI know.â He kisses your brow, voice rough. âTrust me, I fuckinâ know. You just gotta tell me you like it, then-â His cock drags between your folds, and you keen. âAll yours.â
You blink at him, opening your mouth to comply.
But youâre at an advantage.
Buckyâs hard again. His body is wound so tight above you, and his every word is thick. Like itâs an effort to speak. Heâs still trying to fight against the drug running through his veins.
You want him to give in.
So you close your mouth, and give him a defiant glare.
Bucky growls again, and thereâs no more teasing.
His mouth pushes over yours, and itâs not a loving kiss. Itâs rough and quick, stealing your breath in seconds and distracting you as Bucky grabs your knees and shoves them back. You try to chase his lips, when he pulls away, but he shoves you back down with a grunt.
âWanna be a brat.â He grunts. âGonna get fucked like a brat.â
You almost beam. Yes, please.
Bucky folds you under him, your knees pressed to your chest and your cum-stained pussy on full display. He doesnât waste time, tapping the head of his cock against your clit before slamming right inside. Youâre so soaked you take it with only a hitched breath, but that doesnât mean your eyes donât roll back.
He hits right against you pelvis, when he bottoms out. His heavy balls sit on your ass, and the stretch of him is just enough pain to heighten the pleasure. Bucky kisses all over your face as he lets you adjust, but your pussy is greedy. Heâd prepared you too well. Youâre more than ready within seconds.
âBu- Bucky-â You gaps out, and he growls against your neck. âMove.â
If heâd told you to wait, you wouldnât have been surprised.
But the drug seems to have overtaken him again, and all you get is a noise like a snarl against your throat before Bucky draws almost all the way out, and slams back in.
The air is knocked clean from your lungs. This time, he hit right against your g-spot, and your whole body seizes up. Bucky makes a low, deep noise, and repeats the motion. Again, he drives right into that gooey spot deep inside of you. You clench around him, and he doubles over, rutting deep inside of you.
âThe- There-â You whimper, fingers scrambling in the sheets. âFuck, baby, right there-â
Bucky grunts an agreement, and starts to fuck you into the mattress. The angle is so deep youâre worried heâs going to permanently rearrange your guts. Every slam of his cock into your makes you see heaven, and Bucky pants over your, his eyes locked onto yours as your face contorts with pleasure.
Heâs not even fucking you like a brat. Heâs fucking you like a doll. He grabs at your limbs and moves them below him like youâre just a sleeve for his dick, and he needs you into just the right spot. One hand fists in your hair, forcing your neck a little up so you can watching your arousal gleam on his cock every time he pulls out. He moans every time he pushes back in, and you watch your cunt swallow his dick whole. A wet, smacking sound filling the room as he drills into you. He bends you even further to kiss over your neck and breasts, his tongue dragging in rhythm with his dick.
You try to clench around him every time he bottoms out, but your head is sort of empty, and now youâre just a drooling pussy around his massive cock, moaning his name and happily milking every bit of pleasure.
âOh- Oooooh-â You mewl, smiling like a cockdrunk idiot at the air. âBuuuucky-â
His mouth presses back over yours, and the kiss is strangely soft. His fucking hasnât slowed or relented, but thereâs a care with how his lips move over yours that makes you feel worshipped.
Thatâs what heâd said heâd do. Worship you. And you can really feel it here.
Bucky draws back, and the hand that had been fisted in your hair moves to your jaw. He squeezes again. You open for him easily, and his lips twitch.
âGood girl.â He coos, even if the words are tighter than before.
He spits into your mouth. You swallow obediantly, and open again when he squeezes your cheeks. Bucky slams forward with a groan, looking like a man wrecked.
âYou fuckinâ like it, donât you-â
âLove it.â You gasp, unable to even think to deny him again. âLove you, Bucky- Oh- Oh my god-â
Bucky makes a ragged, choked sound, and cums almost without warning. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream, as he pumps you full of his release. It feels like even more than before. Like youâre going to burst with how full you are, spurts of it still being forced out as Bucky fucks you through. Youâve never felt so totally claimed, with him all over every inch of your skin. He kisses you and you giggle, dazed and almost high on the feeling.
And heâs not even done.
The period of lucidity between orgasms gets shorter before it gets longer. Buckyâs ability to control himself almost vanishes all together. You get a kiss and broken mumble of your name before youâre being flipped back onto your stomach and fucked from behind. There will be handprints on your ass and thighs in the morning, and the sheets are stained with your drool from how Bucky railed you from behind.
Youâre dragged into his lap right after, and he pushes his thumb into your mouth, then ruts up into your gaping cunt. Youâre all moans and ditzy smiles by that point. When rolls you back onto your stomach and sits up on his knees, you just take it with moans and giggles and cries of delight.
He hasnât just ruined you. Heâs pulled you apart a million times over, until youâre just a puddle that sings his name.
You donât even fully realize heâs done, when he kisses pulls out that last time. You whine, and clench around nothing, but expect to get filled right back up.
Then Bucky kisses you, and itâs slow. Savoring and sweet. Romantic. His voice is hoarse, but itâs lost the strained quality. Heâs fully teasing again, smiling against your lips.
âSo soft.â He coos, rubbing your thoroughly abused pussy with his warm hand.
You writhe, trying to get further and closer at the same time. Bucky chuckles, and kisses the corner of your mouth.
âJesus, doll. Youâd think you were the one that got sex drugged.â
You try to glare at him, but forget why the moment you see his pretty eyes, shining on yours.
Theyâre blue again.
âYouâre back?â You breathe, and Bucky grins.
He ducks down, and presses another quick kiss over your lips.
âIâm back.â
 Youâre ordered not to move, while he cleans up. You donât think you could if you tried. Your body is jelly, everything is sore in the best way, and your head is spinning with too many thoughts of what the fuck happened.
You told Bucky you love him. You told Bucky you love him. Youâd never even fully admitted it in your head and he just fucked it right out of you. You said it fast, too fast, he thought you hated him four hours ago and now he must think youâre some kind of freak for just saying you love him.
He makes you drink water and go to the bathroom. Draws you a bath and brings you a snack and changes the sheets. You manage to find the strength to stand out of the tub and dry yourself off, wrapping the towel around your body before shuffling out in the center of his room.
God, heâs so handsome. All tan muscles and scars you want to trace with your tongue. Too bad you fucking blew it, and now youâre never going to get to touch him again-
Bucky turns, and smiles when he sees you. You swallow, bracing for the worst as he crosses the room.
He takes your face between his hands and kisses you. Deep and gentle and maybe he just forgot-
âLove you too.â He says against your lips. âJust- Uh- While weâre saying it.â
Oh.
Or that. Thatâs nice.
You throw everything you have into kissing him back, but end up tackling him down onto the bed with the sudden surge of strength. Bucky chokes out a laugh in surprise, wrestling you over onto your back with kiss and wandering hands. You giggle, trying to push back, and he nips at the tip of your nose.
Then he pauses, and pulls up with a small, worried frown.
âYouâre stayinâ the night, right?â
You almost snort. Thereâs no getting rid of you now. Youâre going to stay forever, and as long as heâll allow after that.
âYeah. Iâm staying.â
âŠEnd note: this was longer than my college thesis btw. and i. put more effort into it.âŠ
âŠIf you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3âŠ
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give me fever
âŠBucky Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Read on aO3!âŠ
âŠsummary: you and Bucky hate each other, so it's not unusual for him to act cold around you. but this is differant. this is... feral. and you're starting to wonder what's wrongâŠ
âŠwarnings/tags: bucky barnes x female!reader, enemies to lovers, ragebating Bucky Barnes, emotional angst, everyone's bad at feelings, fluff, sex pollen, sex pollen level smut, a little plot for the porn (dry humping, manhandling, bucky's feral, emotional sex, dry orgasm, truly foul dirty talk, hyperspermia, pussy eating like crazy, fingering, dumbification, dirty talk, sensitive reader, finger sucking, bucky gets nasty, body worship, overstimulation, sex pollen stamnia, mean!bucky, oral f!recieving, begging, praise kink, monster dick bucky, he fucks like a machine, breeding kink), no use of y/n, no descrption of readerâŠ
âŠwc: 11.1kâŠ
âŠAuthor's Note: i'm so normal about sex pollenâŠ
It doesnât bother you. If you tell yourself enough, youâre really going to believe that it doesnât bother you.
But heâs everywhere.Â
There isnât a corner of the damn building without Bucky Barnes. You go to the kitchen and heâs there making a sandwich, watching you move around the counter like he thinks youâre going to bite him. In the gym heâs at the weights and the punching bags, and you try to ignore him but he grunts and moans and you think heâs doing it on purpose. the living area he takes over the TV and watches whatever he wants to catch up with the times. No matter how politely you ask him to switch to something else, he always tells you to just wait. Then you try, but heâs spread out on the couch until your knees have to bump, and your face gets all hot, and you have to stomp away before you start acting on all your stupid thoughts.
Because itâs not just Buckyâs eternal presence and stubbornness and smirking that burrows under your skin. Itâs that you like it.
That when youâre next to him on the couch, all you can think about is that place where your bodyâs connect. Heâs warm. Tall and warm. Your skin tingles at the contact point, and whenever he shifts itâs like youâre being shot up with a drug.
âYouâre squirmy.â He grumbles, glaring at you in the dark. âNo one ever teach you to sit still?â
You stick your tongue out. âNo one ever teach you to mind your own business?â
âHard to mind my business when youâre movinâ all the cushions, doll-â
âThen go sit somewhere else, robot man.â
Buckyâs jaw twitches. âIâm not a robot.â
âUh huh.â
âIâm not-â
âYou act like one.â You snap, and Bucky closes his eyes. Like heâs fucking praying.
âI was here first.â He mutters. You donât balk.
âCongratulations.â
You hold his glare, and Bucky lets out a heavy breath through his nose. He narrows his eyes, tongue flicking over his lips. His full lips. Pretty and chapped, but in the perfect, soft way-
Get a fucking grip.
âThereâs a chair over there.â You point across the room, sinking back into the cushions. âGo sit in it, if Iâm so squirmy.â
Bucky scowls, and opens his mouth, but whatever jab heâs got for you, you donât want to hear it. You reach over and unpause the movieâprobably another one of Samâs this is what you gotta catch up on, Barnes suggestions, because thereâs no way Bucky picked out the Goonies himselfâand fix your glower on the TV screen. You hate this movie. Youâre going to watch it all the way through, just to show Bucky that he doesnât bother you.
You spread your own legs wide, too. If men are allowed to do it, so are you. Bucky grunts as your knee pushes over his thigh, and you smirk at the TV.
It has nothing to do with the thick muscle you can feel under his sweatpants, that you keep your legs like that for the rest of the night. Buckyâs fingers flex a few times, and brush over the inner curve of your knee and the top of your thigh, like heâs thinking about just shoving you away. At one point, you hear him grunt, and look over with mockingly raised brows.
âEverything okay?â You almost simper, and he grunts and nods.
Thatâs all you get. Bucky fixes his anger on the movie, you win this round, and you get to be close to him without thinking about it.
Youâll think about it later. In the comfort of your own bedroom, youâll think about it and think about it and think about it all night. Youâll think about it until your wrist hurts. But Bucky doesnât get to know that.
As far as he needs to be concerned, you never spare him a second thought. Itâs all he spares you. And youâre not going to be the pathetic girl who falls for someone who only thinks of her as a buzzing gnat around his head. Who worships the ground of a man who would step on her like a flower into concrete, not because he was seeking to hurt, but just because he didnât notice you were there at all.
Although Bucky does seem to notice where you are.
The farmer does like to keep track of pests in his crops.
âYou skipped the mission briefing.â Bucky grunts in the morning, glaring at you over a cup of coffee.
Something soft in you swells like a prodded bruise. He noticed where you were.
You ignore it in favor of flipping him off.
âI was busy.â
âToo busy for your job?â
âItâs not my job-â
âYour name was on the roster.â Bucky slams the folder down on the table, and your lips twitch.
âHave you been carrying that around all day?â
âThat doesnât matter-â
âYes, it really does-â
Bucky hisses your name. Thereâs a fury under his tone, that makes your mouth snap shut. If he notices, he doesnât say anything.
âYou need to be there, Steve was talkinâ about safety shit, and if you donât know it you could get killed-â
âI know how mission briefing work, Iâve been here longer than you have-â
âReally? âCause you donât act like it-â
âI donât act like it?â You snort. âLast I checked Iâm ranked higher than you, Sargent.â You raise your chin, letting your lips curl. âWhich is why Iâm allowed to defer missions, and youâre not.â
Bucky blinks, recoiling slightly. âDefer? What, you-â
âIâm skipping.â You shrug, grabbing an apple from the counter. âAnd if Iâm skipping, I donât need to be at the briefing. But thanks for checking on me, dad.â
Buckyâs eyes narrow. You expect him to snap something about experience and you not being responsible enough or needing to care more.
But instead his fists curl and uncurl at his side. His nostrils flare. He grabs the counter, his scowl burning right through you. You take a large bite of your apple, and his gaze darts down. Juice drips down your chin, and you wipe it off with light fingers. That only seems to make him angrier.
âWhyâre you skipping.â
You shrug. You should say none of your business. But part of you is childish. A very big, loud part that wants him to react to something you know he isnât actually going to care about.
âI have a date.â
âA what.â Itâs not a full reaction. Heâs mostly staring at you like he didnât understand the word. Maybe they called it something different in the 40s.
âA date?â You roll your eyes, a little meaner than you mean to be. He always bring that out in you, though.
Bucky always brings everything out in you. Itâs incredibly annoying.
âYou know.â You push mockingly. âWhere you go out with someone. And flirt like people, instead of robots.â
âRobots flirt.â Bucky grunts, and you snort.
âYeah, but they donât have sex-â
The counter cracks. Itâs loud, echoing through the kitchen. You start and twitch, and Bucky blinks at his metal hand, like heâs just as surprised as you are. He looks back to you, shakes his head, and takes a large step back.
âWhatâs-â
âSteveâs callinâ me.â He mutters, and you blink.
âNo, heâs not-â
âHave fun.â Bucky ignores you. His words sound pushed through his teeth. âOn your human date.â
Then heâs gone.
And youâre left in the kitchen with your apple and a cracked counter, staring at where heâd vanished through the door. You donât care about the date.
You just need to know what the fuck that was.
Thereâs a part of you that feels bad, for the man Natasha set you up with. Sheâd picked him out specifically because he had a vague resemblance to Buckyâbecause youâve never told her your secret, but you didnât need to, sheâs Natashaâbut it wasnât enough.
He didnât have the underlying accent, or the gleam in his eyes. You made a sharper edged joke, and he just laughed. He didnât spar. He didnât push your buttons in a way that made you light up. He just smiled at you all nightâwrong smile, tooâand then didnât pay. Bucky wouldâve paid.
You have no evidence of that. Itâs just a feeling, that comes from how he still opens doors for you, even when youâre at each otherâs throats. All polite and handsome and insufferable. You hate him.
And thereâs not a single point during the night, where youâre not thinking about him.
âWe should do this again.â The Dateâyouâve forgotten his name, and itâs certainly not a good time to askâsays at the end of the night.
Youâre shivering. Bucky wouldâve offered you his jacket. He did once, on a mission in the Andes. You got all cold and he rolled his eyes and muttered that he told you to bring another layer, but still gave you his jacket all the same. This man is just grinning at you after not calling you a cab and saying he wanted to stand outside in the misty, chilly night. He said he wanted fresh air, and now your freezing, and he thinks heâs getting a second date.
At the very least, you feel a little less guilty about only thinking of Bucky and the mission the whole time. He deserved it.
âSure.â You smile, because even with superstrength, itâs easier to tell a man yes and then vanish than it is to deny them to their face. âHave a good night.â
He tries to hug you. Your phone buzzes, and you duck away to check it.
The mission is over.
Two days early.
Your jaw tightens.
Most people would think that a job being done early is a good thing. That it means the team was just so focused and coordinated that they sped through every single step, and ended in a total victory. But youâve been on this job too long. Early mission conclusions only ever happen for one reason.
Something went wrong, and they have to come back.
You rush back to the compound with barely a goodnight to the Date. Itâs mostly because you forget, in the blur of worry. Youâd skimmed the mission files before they left, just to make sure it wasnât anything too dangerous. Bucky had been mad about you not going with them. Maybe heâd thought theyâd need the hands, but it had just looked like a retrieval mission. Old Hydra facility with some data Tony wanted. Nothing too hard.
But theyâre back early.
And if someoneâs hurt, you couldâve stopped it. You couldâve been there, instead of on that stupid fucking date. Which also means that Bucky was right, and thatâs incredibly annoying. Heâs going to weild it over your head, and the mocking is going to turn you on more, and youâll have earned it which isnât going to help anything at all.Â
You get back to the compound, and itâs not in lockdown. There arenât med staff flooding the grounds or emergency sirens blaring. You go right to the hanger, and find that itâs already been cleared out. The jet isnât being quarantined.
Maybe they really did just⊠Finish early.
Youâre heading back to your room when you slam right into them.
Steve and Bucky, standing in the middle of the hall, arguing in hushed voices.
âYou need to go, Buck-â
âIâm fine-â
âNo, youâre not. You can lie to the docs, donât lie to me-â
âI ainât lyinâ, Iâm fine-â
Your too lost in your own head, barely even hearing what theyâre saying. You barrel straight into Buckyâs back.
He goes rigid. You stumble a little, and he grabs your upper arm.
His hand is hot.
Not sexy hotâalthough itâs also thatâbut literally, physically hot. Almost searing, against your shivering skin. You look up at him, and swallow.
Heâs flushed. Thereâs sweat clinging to his brow, and an exhausted shadow over his features. His eyes are so blown out theyâre almost fully black. You blink at him, and his mouth falls open in a ragged pant.
âHi.â You whisper.
His throat bobs. âYouâre back.â
âI- I got the alert.â You glance over to Steve, whoâs gone oddly pale. âDid the mission go okay? It was fine that I wasnât there, right-â
âYep!â Steve almost shouts, and you blink. âI mean- We were all good. Wish you were there, we all missed you, but- We were fine. Right, Buck?â Steve grabs Buckyâs shoulder. âWe were all good.â
Bucky doesnât look away from you for a single second. He grunts, and his grip tightens on your arm.
âLet go.â Steve mutters, and Bucky shoots him a glare.
He releases you like you burned him, then wipes his hand on his pants. You scowl. He was the one touching you.
âI was gonna.â He grumbles, and Steve sighs.
âI know, but-â You get a weary look. Like Steve doesnât want you to hear their conversation. âI think- You know what I think-â
âSteve-â Bucky cuts himself off with a groan, running a hand over his face.
He still hasnât looked away from you. Or moved that far out of your proximity.
âIâm fine.â He says, low and under his breath. Youâre rooted to the ground under his gaze, unsure what you could even think of to say. âItâs- Iâm fine.â
Steveâs lips press in a thin line. Bucky takes a large, jerking step back. Like heâs dragging himself away.
âHow was your date?â He grunts.
âBucky-â
âIâm just askinâ a question.â He snaps, still not sparing Steve a look.
The attention is getting to be too much. Bucky is looking at you like he wants to eat you alive, and itâs making your body almost buzz in anticipation. You want to jump on him and feel those hot hands all over your body. His nostrils flare like he can smell your arousal. If he can, you might jump off a bridge.
You hope heâd catch you, then fuck you until your canât even walk.
Get a fucking grip.
âBad.â You cross your arms over your chest, trying to keep your heart from bursting out of your chest. âHe sucked.â
And thatâs the kind of thing Bucky would usually mock you for. Skipping a mission just for a bad date.
But a low, rumbling growl falls from his chest. His tongue darts over his lips. He takes a half-step forward, and you lean in to the gravity of his stare.
âWe have debriefing!â Steve shouts, grabbing the collar of Buckyâs suit. âBye!â
Before you can even register it, Steveâs dragging Bucky down the hall. You swear you hear another feral noise, and a crash after they turn the corner.
Something had to have happened on the mission. You just have no fucking clue what.
Buckyâs only been acting stranger. Youâd pretend it didnât bother you, if you could get away from it for a single fucking second.
You walk through the compound, and heâs somehow more everywhere than he was before. Around every corner, in the library, on the grounds, even in the control room while youâre going through the mission files.
âWhatâre you doinâ.â He grunts, and you sigh.
Youâre not surprised heâs there. Itâs the fifth time today that heâs snuck up on you.
âIâm going through the reports on the mission.â You drawl. âDonât you have better things to do than follow me around?â
Bucky grunts. It seems to be a no. You roll your eyes and go back to poking through the system. Itâs hard to pretend that you canât feel his presence behind you. Thereâs heat almost rolling from his body, and thick, spicy and musky scent thatâs filling the room. Itâs making you a little dizzy. Itâs all you can do, not to look back at him.
That would be dangerous. He probably still looks feverish and animalistic. You might moan.
You find the files for the mission, and try to open them. Big, read access denied, contact your handler for permission to these files flashes over your screen. Your mouth falls open, and you whip back to glare at Bucky before you can think about it.
Mistake. Just like youâd thought, big mistake.
He looks even worse and better than you thought. Heâs wearing just a t-shirt and sweats, and theyâre clinging to his sweaty body. His eyes are hooded and his lips are parted. His attention is so wholly fixed on you that it almost makes you fall out of your chair. You almost forget youâre annoyed with him. Every single nerve in your body is alight, and your fingers are itching to comb through his sweaty hair.
You somehowâjust barelyâfight it.
âWhy canât I access these files.â
Bucky leans over you, his nostrils flaring. If you reach up, you could trace the stubbled line of his jaw. Itâs hard to maintain your glare.
âBarnes-â
âYou werenât on the mission.â He mutters. âNot your files to see.â
You scowl. âI can access the files of every other mission I was on-â
âSteve should change that.â
God, you wish he wasnât so pretty. It would be easier to think about punching him.
âI know something happened out there.â You hiss, sitting up a little taller. âYou canât hide it from me. Iâll figure it out.â
Bucky chuckles. Itâs a low, raspy sound that runs through your body, making you shiver.
âSure, doll. Have fun with that.â
You shoot to your feet, and Bucky lurches back. Another one of those deep, rumbling growls rolls from his chest, and for a second you think heâs going to pounce on you.
And then you blink, and heâs gone. Leaving you with only that hazy smell, and desire rolling through your veins.
You wish that was the extent of it, but itâs barely the start. And it only gets worse.
Bucky doesnât do his movie nights anymore, which means you get the TV all to yourself. You watch what you want, and try not to look at the spot next to you. Where your body feels like heâs supposed to be. You stretch out your legs, but they ache strangely without his touch. You get more restless without him. Around midnight, you shuffle to the kitchen, hoping one of those soothingherb thingys that Wanda says help with her nightmares will be there.
Instead, you find Bucky.Â
Heâs drinking a glass of ice, with a little bit of water. He freezes when he sees you, and moves further behind the counter.
You sigh. Youâre too tired to fight him.
âCanât sleep?â You mumble.
He just nods.
You sigh, and walk over the cupboard.
âYou want hot chocolate?â
A grunt. Better than silence. You make two mugs, one for you, one for Bucky.
And maybe itâs just that youâre really starting to worry, but you donât bother pretending to hate him. Your fingers brush when you pass him his mug, and his body seizes like you shocked him, but you just offer a tiny smile.
His mouth falls open. He stares at you like heâs spent years only looking at the muddier reflection of stars in the water, and has finally thought just to tilt his head up. You let out a small, shaking breath. Heâs still burning up. You can feel it from your place a foot away. But you donât dare to push it.
Not when heâs looking at you like this. The way youâd always, secretly and shamefully, dreamed he would.
âIâm watching Star Wars.â You mumble. âYou wannaâŠâ
You trail off, and Buckyâs throat bobs.
He nods again. A new tendril of worry blooms, overlapping with the growing tangle of them in your gut. He might not be able to speak.
But he follows you to the living area, and takes his place on the couch. His knee pushes against yours. Heâs breathing awfully shallow, but youâre a selfish coward that wants him close, so you donât mention it.
You barely pay attention to the movie. All you can focus on is Bucky at your side. How he doesnât even seem to be sparing the TV a glance. Heâs not really touching you, save for that place where your thighs are always pushed together, but every time you shift he grabs your knee. You blink at him, and his throat just bobs. He still hasnât said a word. Youâre afraid that when he does, it will break this fragile illusion.
That he wants to be here.
Near you.
He passes out near the end of the movie. His head falls against your shoulder and his body goes limp, almost a blanket over yours. You donât move, just staring at a lit up, black screen. He looks more peaceful than youâve ever seen. His fever isnât breaking, but it does seem to be easing. You run your fingers through his hair, and he makes a low sound like a purr.
Then he takes a deep inhale, right against the crook of your neck, and a different noise leaves him.
Itâs almost a moan.
You swallow. Suddenly you need to move. You donât know whatâs going on with him, but this canât be what he actually wants. To be asleep almost in your arms, purring and moaning. Thatâs not a part of him you get to have.
But when you try to move, his grip around you tightens.
You feel almost sick.
It takes almost an hour, to roll off the couch without him pulling you back. When youâre free, you still cover him in a blanket and press a hand to his brow. Just to check. You canât really help it.
His fever is building again.
You wish he would just tell you what was wrong. Even if he thinks you hate him, he canât think you wouldnât care enough to help.
When you start to walk away, he moans again. You could swear it sounded a little like your name.
You force yourself to go to bed. Youâre not sure if you want him to remember in the morning.
If anything, you just pray he gets better. Itâs hard to hide your undying care for him, when heâs in pain. Impossible to ignore how much it bothers you, that heâs hurting. â
But it is Bucky.
And heâs never going to make anything that easy.
You walk out of your room in the morning, and heâs right there. Lingering in the hallway, staring at you with those blown-out eyes, working his jaw like heâs trying to bite his own tongue off.
âHi.â You say lamely.
He stumbles back like you punched him. âYou- Youâre-â
âBucky, are you-â
ââM fine.â He says it mostly to himself again. Thereâs sweat gathering on his brow and bags under his eyes.
Youâre not going to tell him, but youâre getting worried. This is the third morning in a row youâve found him here. The first night you asked if heâd slept there, and heâd scowled and stomped away.
But from the look of him, you donât think heâs been sleeping at all.
âDo you need something?â You ask. You sound soft, but you canât help it. The worse he looks, the more your heart tightens. âI can call Steve-â
âDonât get Steve.â He steps back. The same jerked movement from the first night. Itâs the only way heâs been moving around you, lately. âIâm fine.â
You give him a doubtful look. His tongue flicks over his lips. You take a step forward, and he takes another step back. Like youâve got a polarity field around you. Like he canât even stand to breathe the same air.
And yet heâs here. Outside your door, and breathing through his mouth like an animal.
âBucky-â
âDonât.â He shakes his head, stumbling another step back. âJust- Donât.â
You swallow, and donât give chase when he walks away. Jogs away. He yanks himself away, then runs like he thinks youâre going to catch him and drag him back. You wonât.
But you do go right to Steve.
âWhat happened on the mission.â
Steve flinches, gagging on his sandwich. Youâre glaring down at him with your hands on your hips, and you think he knows his little charming smile isnât going to work on you here. That doesnât seem to stop him from trying anyway.
âHey, um- Do you want a cookie-â
âSteven.â You hiss, and he swallows. âWhat happened.â
Steve winces, avoiding your gaze. âIâm not supposed to tell you.ââ
âWhat do you mean youâre not supposed to tell me-â
âI mean I- I can.â He mutters. âBut then Bucky will kill me. And I donât want Bucky to kill me.â
You scowl. âTough shit, because guess whoâs going to kill you if you donât tell me?â
Steve sighs. âIs it you?â
âYep.â
He stares at his sandwich, like itâs somehow going to get him out of this situation. You wait for him to realize it wonât. You have plenty of time.
âIâm really not supposed to tell you-â
âI really donât care.â
âWell- You will.â Steve looks up with a sad little puppy eyes.
You donât have the same reservations about punching him in the face, that you have with Bucky. Heâs basically asking for it right now.
âSteven, I swear to fucking God-â
âI canât tell you.â He cuts you off with a shake of his head, and you scoff.
âNo, you just wonât tell me-â
âThatâs not- I canât, okay? Please stop asking me to-â
âWhy, because Bucky doesnât want you to?â You leer. âBecause last I checked, youâre the Captain. And if Bucky is your friend, you should be telling his teammates heâs in danger so they can help-â
âThatâs the problem!â Steve shouts, and you blink. âYou- Look, youâre going to want to help, and I canât let you.â
âYou canât let me help?â You echo, and Steve winces.
âI know how it sounds-â
âDo you? Because what Iâm fucking hearing that your best friend is in danger, and you wonât let me fucking help-â
âWhy do you even want to help?â Steve fixes you with a pointed look. âAll you ever do is complain about Bucky and how heâs annoying you. I wouldâve thought you didnât care.â
You narrow your eyes, and Steve raises his brows. You know what heâs doing. Smug fucking asshole.Â
âThat wonât work on me.â You grunt, and he shrugs.
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
âSteve-â
âBut,â he says causally. âIf I did, Iâd say thatâs why I canât tell you. And you know that.â
You hate it when he speaks in riddles. Like youâre just supposed to read between the lines when your brain is fogged with worry about Bucky.
âI- I donât-â You let out a slow breath, looking down to your shoes. Heat is flooding your cheeks. Itâs annoying. âItâs not- Iâm just- Please.â
Your voice cracks suddenly. Youâve been losing more sleep over this than youâre ever going to tell anyone. You almost feel ill with itâlike the worry is an infection, knotting up your stomach and making your heart pick upâbut that might just literal exhaustion. Something happened. No one will tell you what. Itâs making you feel useless and hopeless and torn up to tiny, useless shreds.
âBucky.â You say slowly. âIs- Heâs not okay. I know heâs not okay.â You force yourself to meet Steveâs gaze. âJust- Lie to me and say heâs fine, and fix it, or tell me and let me help. But I- I canât just-â
You donât even know how to finish the sentence. Thereâs a burning feeling behind your eyes and a lump in your throat. Youâre so worried. Worried this is something thatâs going to kill him, and youâre going to lose him forever.
And thereâs pity, in Steveâs gaze. Itâs enough to make him break, his voice softening completely.
âAlright.â He murmurs. âBut- You canât tell him I told you.â
You nod quickly. âIâll say I just got into the files, or- Something- Please.â
Steve sighs. âOkay. Okay.â He shakes his head. âIt was on the mission. Bucky was distracted the whole time, and when we got jumped he wasnât being controlled with his punches. He swag to hard on an Hydra agent. Knocked them back into some vials, and- Well they burst. All over both of them. We put the agent in containment, but he was displaying worse symptoms. Bucky- I think itâs the serum, or just⊠Bucky. But heâs been controlling it better.â Steve grimaces. âBut that doesnât mean heâs not still knocked up with stuff.â
You nod slowly. Thatâs not that bad.
But Steve didnât want you to know for a reason.
âWhat are the symptoms?â
Steve wonât meet your gaze. âFever. Nausea. Hormone flares. Um- Increased⊠libido.â
Your eyes widen, your mouth falling open. âWhat.â
âHydra makes some weird stuff. Tony thinks this was, um- A breeding drug. We donât know why they were developing it, but- Thereâs no other name.â Steveâs nose wrinkles. âThe agent- His cell is disgusting.â
âBut- Bucky-â
âI told you, he says heâs got it under control.â Steve shrugs, but doesnât really sound like heâs convinced himself. âThe agent has been, ah⊠begging for anyone. Bucky doesnât have the same liberty with what will help. He says itâs going to pass, and heâll be fine.â
âAnd will it?â You breathe. âPass?â
Steve shrugs. âIt did for the agent.â
âBefore or after the mating?â
Steveâs silence is an answer. You swear under your breath.
âWhy wouldnât you tell me this, Steve? We- We need to get him to someone, this could fucking kill him-â
âI know that!â Steve snaps. âI know that just as well as you do! As he does! But- Jesus.â He shakes his head. âHe wonât take anyone. Heâll only- Well- You know.â
âI know? I donât fucking know, none of you have been telling me shit-â
Steve says your name plainly. You blink.
âWhat-â
âNothing. Just- Why do you think heâs been lingering around you?â
You stare at him. He raises his brows, and you swallow.
âSteve-â
âI didnât say anything-â
âYes, you did-â
âNope.â
You press your lips in a tight line. He canât mean what you think he means. That would be to easy. Too good. âBucky- He doesnât- Thatâs not how he feels about me.â
Please donât say it is. Itâs not fair if youâre lying.
âFunny.â Steve shrugs. âHe says the same thing about you.â
This is a bad idea.
Bucky hasnât left his room in a day. Youâd spent all of last night replaying your conversation with Steve, trying to pick it apart for a single reason he didnât mean what you thought he did. What you hoped he did. What youâd always hoped for, only in the dead of night where no one would ever find out.
But it didnât matter how you turned or picked at Steveâs words. There was only one conclusion. The beautiful, horrible one that you canât even fully wrap your head around. It would mean you spent years hating him for no reason. Year thinking about kissing his stupid face, when you couldâve been actually kissing him. If Steveâs right, youâre going to kill Bucky.
After you fix this for him.
If Steve means what you think, you can fix this for him. He just has to let you.
Which is why this is a horrible idea. If Bucky turns you down, youâre going to have to quit your job and change your name and move to Indonesia.
But if he doesnât turn you downâŠ
You steel yourself and knock on Buckyâs door. Itâs worth the risk, just for him. Always just for him.
âFuck off, Stevie-â
âIâm not Steve!â You call, and for a second thereâs no response.Â
Then thereâs a muffled banging, and you almost fall forward when Bucky yanks the door open.
He looks even worse than before. And better. And hotter, and oh God, your knees are already weak.
His shirt is gone, and his broad, muscled chest is shining with sweat. His hair flops over his eyes, mussed up and soft looking. Heâs breathing through his nose, even as his swollen mouth hangs open. His metal fist is curled against the door, making the wood crack under his fingers. Standing through his sweatpants is the long, proud outline of his cock.
You swallow, your mouth watering. Bucky says your name, and you canât tell if itâs supposed to be a plea or a prayer.
âYou shouldnât be here-â
âSteve said you need me.â
You stare at each other. Buckyâs tongue flicks out, and you chew on your lower lip. This is it. If he turns you down, youâll walk away and live. A new life, across the world. Youâve never been to Indonesia, but you hear they have good food and community, and youâre sure youâll be able to fit right in over time, and if you donât at least Bucky will never find you to make you relive this humiliation, because itâs been almost two full minutes and he hasnât said anything, so you should probably pull out your phone and start researching Indonesian names-
âSteve shouldnât have told you anything.â Bucky growls, and you swallow.
âI- I made him.â
He sighs. You could swear his dick twitches. âOf course you did.â
âI was worried about you-â
âYou donât have to be, doll. Iâm-â
âIf you say Iâm fine, Iâm going to fucking punch you.â
Bucky scowls. You scowl harder. You have a feeling neither of you are going to back down.
âYouâre sick.â You say plainly, and Bucky lets out a sharp exhale through his nose.
âMaybe. But itâs not the kinda sick you can help with-â
âSteve says itâs the kind of sick only I can help with.â
Heâs silent again. You risk a tiny step forward, and he takes one back, muttering your name. Itâs a warning. A plea.
âDonât do this.â He mutters, fists balled at his side. âNot outta pity, not for me-â
âItâs not pity.â You stop in his doorway, making your voice soft. âI want to help, Bucky. Let me help.â
He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. âNo, you- You just- You donât feel like that for me-â
âYou donât feel like that for me.â You breathe, and Buckyâs body locks up.
âWho says?â
âYouâre an ass to me-â
âYouâre an ass to me.â
âI donât mean to be.â You whisper. âI- I donât- Iâm not good at⊠You know.â
Buckyâs throat bobs. He still doesnât move.
âMe neither.â
You nod. âButâŠâ
âYeah.â He swallows. âYeah. I do.â
You take a deep breath. His whole room is filled with that musky, spicy smell. The heat is almost rolling off his body.
âPlease ask me to help.â You donât bother to hide the desperation in your voice. He needs to know that you mean it. âI- I want to, Bucky, I want you so bad-â
Bucky muffles your pleas, crashing forward and pressing his mouth over yours.
Itâs not the soft, loving kiss of your fantasies. Itâs rough and desperate, the kiss of a man finally letting his leash snap. He grabs your neck and scrunches his fingers in your hair, dragging a moan from the back of your throat. It turns into a hungry cry, when he pushes his tongue between your lips. Your knees wobble from the bruising force of it. You grab his shirt for balance, scrunching the fabric between your fingers.
Bucky grunts, pressing further over you. One arm drops to wrap around your waist, and the other slide up to cradle the back of your head. The touch his shockingly gentle, for the demanding way heâs almost eating your kisses. Youâre standing nowhere near a wall, but heâs caged you all the same. Thereâs nothing to do but feel the way his cool, metal fingers dig into your hips, and the unrelenting heat of his mouth.
You kiss until your breathing is ragged. He tastes like mint and salt, and itâs a little addictive. Even after youâre light-headed and whimpering, Bucky sucks on your lower lip and takes just a little more. You whimper, gasping for air that he doesnât seem to need. He tugs on your hair, forcing you to tip your neck back, and he plants open, hungry kisses over every place he can reach.
âYou gotta be sure.â He murmurs against your skin. âTell me youâre sure, doll, âcause- I donât think I can go easy.â
And oh God, isnât that lovey thought. Bucky not going easy. Combined with his tongue flicking over a pulse point, you almost fall over from the pure thought of it.
But heâs asking real permission. His hold on your hip is getting tighter, and his shoulders are squared and tense. Heâs keeping himself from taking what he really wants, until you give him total permission.
You didnât know you could want him more.
âI- Oh-â Your eyes flutter, as he nips on sensitive skin under your jaw before kissing away the hurt. âIâm sure, Bucky, I- I donât want you to go easy.â
For some reason, that only makes him more tense. He takes an uneven breath, pressing his brow against your head and almost pulling you off your feet as he hugs you tighter. You wait, slowly wrapping your arms around him and dragging your nails soothingly over the nape of his neck.
Bucky draws himself back, his expression unreadable as he scans over your face. You offer him a tiny, nervous smile, and he lets out a shaky laugh.
âYou- You got no idea, do you?â
Your face falls to a pout. âI have a lot of ideas-â
âNo, you donât.â He drops his brow over yours. âYou got no fuckinâ clue, what you do to me.â
And your brain stalls. It gets all gooey and soft, as you just blink up at him. Youâre already on unsteady legs. You never thought heâd catch you if you fell, but with the way Buckyâs looking at you right now, you think heâd dive off a cliff to be at your side.
âBuckyâŠâ You breathe, and he drops his forehead against yours. Your noses bump. His gaze darts between your lips and eyes, and you think you might be burning alive.
âYou smell so good.â He mutters, before leaning down to press a soft, sweet kiss to your lips. âTaste better than I imagined.â
âYou-â You almost whimper, when he pulls away. âYou imagined?â
He chuckles, kissing just your upper lip. Youâre already putty under his hands, and you might turn to just a steam of desire if he doesnât stop kissing you so softly.
âDidnât you?â
You nod, and Buckyâs lips twitch.
âBet I imagined more.â
And you doubt that, but Buckyâs kissing you again before you can tell him that you imagined so much it scared you sometimes. The way you were sure that youâd never be able to recover, from an addiction to a drug youâd never even taken.
Youâre certainly never going to recover now. Kissing Bucky is even better than youâd let yourself dream about. His lips are just as soft as you thought. Even with the way heâs holding himself back, his touch is possessive. He traces your sides like heâs trying to memorize them, and kisses you the same way.
âGot no idea what Iâm gonna do to, either.â He rasps against your lips. âIf you let me, doll⊠You shouldnât- But-â He groans, pushing his nose into your cheek, kissing over the slope of your jaw. âFuck, I want you to.â
You want him to. You want to feel those sloppy, devout kisses everywhere, to get that infernal tongue between your legs. His cock is almost bursting through his sweats, protruding into your thigh. Heâd be heavy on your tongue, and split you better than the toys that youâve used in his place before. The ache in your core throbs from just the idea, and you can feel your heart trying to burst all out of your throat with confession of desire and adoration. But youâre not sure if heâs going to believe them.
âTell me.â You whisper. âTell me what youâve dreamed about doing to me.â
Bucky pulls back, and you worry youâve stepped on an invisible landmine. That youâre going to be shoved out of the room, the door slammed in your face instead of behind you, locking you out of the room youâve longer to be in since you met him. Bucky stares at you. You open your mouth to apologize and take it back, but he loves to move faster than your lustdrunk mind can understand.
You squeal as he walks you backward, but not out of the room. He kicks his door shut as you pass it. It slams, right as Bucky pins you between against the wall. He kisses you before you can protest or ask questions, and keeps going until youâre squirming against him and unsure if you should pull him closer or push him away. His kisses wander your cheeks, over your nose and hairline and back down to your ear.
âI wanted you just like this.â He chokes out, and your swallow. He sounds wrecked, and youâre not even kissing anymore. âWanted you everywhere. Would see you in a meetinâ and think about bending you over the table. Youâd get under me on the training mats and Iâd wanna get in a headlock between your legs. Bet you taste so good.â
He shudders, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. His dick has shifted to push right near your core, and itâs almost too much pressure, while not being nearly enough.
âWould sit next to you on the plane and think about gettinâ on my knees.â He rasps, beard ticking against your skin. âWorshipping your pussy like it deserves. Makinâ you- Fuck- Call my name-â
Bucky moans, his hips jerking forward. A tiny moan escapes your lips, and Bucky almost whines and does it again. You donât think he can help it.
âWanted to stuff your pretty little lips with my cock.â He thrusts again, his whole weight almost collapses over your body. âYouâd get all mouthy and I- I jerk off to the idea of puttinâ you over my knee or gettinâ you lying in my bed. Iâd- Iâd fuck you so nice, doll, I swear Iâd be good, but- Fuuuck-â
Heâs rutting between your thighs, and seems to forget the story heâs supposed to be telling you in favor of sucking on your neck. You whimper, pushing your hand between your bodies. Not to stop himânever to stop himâbut to wrap your fingers around his cock through his sweats.
Bucky moans, his voice breaking with raw, starved relief. You try to pull him back to kiss him, but he just wraps closer around you. Heâs almost shaking. You think heâs trying not to fuck your hand.
You canât have that.
âItâs okay.â You drag your fingers over the line of his cock, and he whimpers against your neck. âI- Iâve thought about it too.â
Bucky slams forward, and you smile at the air.
âWanted you to shove me down and fuck me stupid. Wanted to ride you until I passed out. I bought a dildo, baby, just to pretend it was you.â
You use your free hand to pet the back of his head, slowly sliding his sweats down to give yourself better access. Buckyâs thick and heavy in your hand. Your fingers donât even come close to wrapping fully around, and whenever your nails graze his balls, he bucks forward with a strangled moan.
âWasnât as big.â You breathe, stroking his dick in long, tight motion. âYouâre so big, Bucky, I donât think itâs gonna fit.â
He grunts, his teeth grazing your neck. âGonna- Fuck-â
You squeeze him at the base, and he doubles over. Heâs almost fully collapsed against you. You want to feel him come apart.
âGonna make it fit.â He hisses in your ear, and you hum.
âHow?â
âOpen you up.â He mutters, words slurred like heâs drunk. âGet you all over me, doll- Wanna watch you cum over and over and- God-â
His dick is twitching, and you giggle. Heâs working himself up.
âYou think this is funny?â He rasps.
You smile, swiping your thumb over the weeping slit of his dick. âA little. You wanna make me cum but you wonât even touch me.â
He makes an annoyed sound, and tries to push off of you. You tug his cock a little harder, and he falls back over with a moan. You giggle again.
âYou- Youâre a fuckinâ brat-â
âIâm helping you, Barnes.â You whisper in his ear.
He chuckles, and the sound rolls through your body. âHelpinâ me would be sitting on my face- Fuck-â
Buckyâs whole body shakes, when you squeeze him one last time, and his control slip. You pet him through his orgasm, unsure if you want him to notice how you press your legs tighter to try and get more stains of his cum. He pants and groans against your skin, his lips latching back around that one bruise he seems to be obsessed with.
Thereâs so much cum. Bucky grinds into your fist, and it just keeps coming and coming and coming until your fingers are sticky and drenched. The idea of him doing that inside you is almost a little terrifying. Youâve never wanted anything more.
A choked sound like your name comes out, muffled against your skin. You smile, leaning back to try and meet his gaze.
Bucky seems to need a second. You hope you didnât already wear him out.
âYou okay?â You whisper, and he tenses.
Bucky pulls back, and your pulse picks up into a drum.
Whatever heâd been before, it had been tame compared to this. His jaw is clenched, his attention fixed on you like a predator. His chest heaves, his hands limp at his side. You swallow, feeling a lot smaller than you did a second ago.
You canât stop yourself from looking down. It only makes things worse.
Heâs bigger than he felt. His cum is dripping down his thigh, and itâs barely been a minute, but heâs already getting hard again. You drag your eyes up the expanse of his chestâall flushed skin and muscleâand realize he hasnât stopped staring at you. You lick your lips. He mimics the movement.
âIt wonât fit.â You says again, but your tone has lost all the teasing mockery of before.
And Buckyâs smirk is dangerous. A thrill rushes through you at the sight of it. Youâve gotten exactly what you wanted.
âGonna make it fit.â He growls.
You yelp, as he grabs your wrist and yanks you forward. You donât even slam into his chest before heâs lifting you off the ground with another mind numbing kiss. Itâs a distraction. You know that. You donât really care, though, returning it in a second.
Bucky carries you like youâre a doll, your knees bent like some princess and his warmer arm locked around your waist. He leans over, lowering you to the mattress with a shocking care. For a second youâre fully lost in him. The gentle motion of his lips over yours, the way his hands wander and map your body as he settles you into the mattress.
âSo soft.â He mutters. âAll that bite, doll, but I knew youâd be so fuckinâ soft for me.â
Youâd like to protest, and say that youâre not soft. But Buckyâs kisses are making your head spin, and no single, clear word can make it out of the daze. All you manage is a high, long whine.
Bucky chuckles. His hand pushes under your shirt, almost tickling over your sides.
âYou like that?â He tease, his knuckles tracing over the underside of your boobs. âYou like beinâ my sweet girl?â
You are not sweet. You try to snap that, but it mostly just comes out a feral grumble. You donât know how heâs the one with a sound mind right now. Youâre not under a sex drug.
Youâre just under Bucky. Where itâs very, very warm, and sticky, and nice. His cum is dripping over your clothed core and midriff. You shiver as it hits bare skin, and Bucky smirks against your lips.
âSay it and I give you more.â He rasps. âSay you like it.â
And itâs a game. You know that you like it. He does too. But heâs poking and teasing you, trying to get you spar with him. To get you to play.
So you glare at him when he leans back, spreading your legs wider at the same time. You keep your mouth stubbornly shut.
Bucky grins. He traces the curve of your hips with massive hands, his thumb angling to smear his cum over your navel.
âLook at you.â He mocks. âBegginâ for me and then canât even admit she likes it.â
You wrinkle your nose, turning up your chin. Bucky smacks your inner thigh, then rubs his metal palm right over your pussy. The sudden sting then harsh pleasure make your hips push off the bed with a cry. Bucky takes his hand away to splay it on your abdomen, shoving you back down.
âYou like gettinâ tossed around, too?â He laughs, and heat floods right to your core. âIâll toss you around, baby. Make you into a nice little cockslut for me, even let you put my in that pretty mouth.â
He grabs your jaw, and you part your lips in a second. Bucky groans, his cock getting impossibly harder.
âAlready listen so well.â He mutters, teasing his two forefingers over your mouth. âJust can admit you fuckinâ love it, do you? Canât be a good girl and tell the truth.â
You narrow your eyes in defiance, and pretend to bite down on his fingers. Itâs not a real bite. Just teeth grazing knuckles. But Bucky understands what it means.
Permission to go further.
His eyes gleam. His cock is already leaking with pre-cum.
âAlright, babydoll.â He rubs your thighs, a dangerous smile playing on his lips. âHave it your way.â
In a single second, Bucky rips off your clothing like itâs paper. You barely have time to feel the cold of the air before heâs grabbing your waist, flipping you onto your stomach, and dragging your ass up in the air. You yelp, fisting your hands in the sheets, and try to twist and see where he is.
A dazed part of your brain that doesnât remember his hands on your hips sees no one behind you, and almost freaks out.
Then the first stroke of Buckyâs tongue hits your pussy, and you collapse fully into the sheets.
âOh my-â Your eyes roll back, as he teases the very tip of his tongue around your clit before dragging it through your folds. âOh my God-â
âSensitive fuckinâ pussy.â Bucky muses, and you feel the stubble of his cheek pressing against you thigh. âBarely even touching it. Wonder if I-â
 His thumb drags circles just around your clit, and you squeak. He kisses the curve of your ass, going a little fast. You whine trying to drag your own ass in circles to match his motions. You canât see him. Canât know if youâre doing well outside of his lips tracing your thigh, and the pleased hums against your skin.
Bucky jerks his thumb suddenly to the side, pushing directly over your clit. You scream, your knees sliding back. Bucky grabs them and pushes them back up, fully exposing your pussy to the air.
âLook at you.â His breath is warm, over that most sensitive spot. âBet I donât even need to fuckinâ prep you. Youâre so wet, youâd justâŠâ
He makes a deep, rumbling sound, and you almost sob as he drags his tongue right back between your puffed pussy lips. You clench around nothing, his stubbled scraping your clit. Bucky angles his face, letting his tongue flick over your clit. It goes back and forth and back and forth, toying with it before pressing flat. He sucks, hard like a lollipop, and you almost sob into the mattress.
âSweet.â Bucky whispers, his metal arm wrapping around your legs. âSo fuckinâ sweet.â
âBu- Bucky-â
âShhh.â He kisses right over your pussy. âWanna taste, pretty girl. I gotta fuckinâ-â He moans, and the vibration shoots right up your spine. âGotta taste-â
Bucky presses his face fully into your cunt, and the sound that leaves you almost isnât human.
Heâs good at this. So good at this. Itâs a little unfair. Your mouth canât do anything but hang uselessly open, as Bucky works his jaw against you. He eats you like heâs starved for it. Like heâs a man that wants to drown of an insatiable thirst.
Two hands hold you up in the air, as his tongue plunges ruthlessly in and out of your cunt. You keen, trying to push further back, and the warmer hand wraps up to your spine and shoves your stomach down. Itâs a tighter fit like this. Bucky drags his tongue around, and it hits every sensitive area. His beard tickles and scratches, and cold fingers tease your skin.
You get more and more sensitive, with every flick and suck and groan. Youâre so wet itâs almost drooling down your legs, mixing with the stains of cum heâd gathered from your midriff and smeared over your legs. The dual heat with his cold hand makes all your nerves stand on end. You pussy clenches again, and Bucky chuckles.
âThatâs right.â He mutters, making out with your clit as you gasp for air into the bed. âThatâs it, baby, youâre already lettinâ go, arenât you.â
You whine, and Bucky nips at your ass.
âArenât you?â
âYe- Yes.â You mumble. ââS good, Bucky- So good-â
âI know.â He grunts, pressing his cold, metal thumb down into your clit. âFuck, baby, I know.â
You whimper, and Bucky starts up on your dripping pussy again. Heâs lapping at it, pushing his tongue into your tight hole as he plays with your clit, and white lines your vision.
âI- Iâm gonna- Fuck- Bucky-â You scratch at the sheets. âIâm gonna- Oh God-â
He smacks your clit, spits onto your pussy, and resumes with double the effort. You cry his name, as your orgasm wracks your body. You can feel yourself seizing around him, twitching and writhing in his tight grip as your vision lines with white.
And Bucky doesnât stop. Youâre making a mess all over his face, and heâs rising up, but itâs just pushing you further into the mattress. You whimper, your cunt too sensitive, but he doesnât even come up for air.
âShit- Bucky- Oh- Ohhhhh-â
The ache quickly fades into pleasure again. Blinging pleasure thatâs just on the wrong side of too much, but pleasure all the same. You squeal, and Bucky just moans against your cunt.
Then you hear it. The slam of his fist against his cock.
Heâs jerking off while he eats you out. Heâs fucking himself so hard you can hear it, hear the slap of skin, feel all his little moans and grunts right against your pussy, and the thought sends you right over the edge again.
Bucky moans louder, as you cum on his tongue. Just like before, it seems to make him more and more feral. You have a feeling what lucidity that let him tease you before is gone. Heâs eating you out the same way heâs kissed you, with rough lips and a fervor thatâs almost animalistic. Youâre boneless and whimpering into the sheets, taking it over and over as Bucky just keeps working his mouth against your cunt, and fucking his hand.
Then, suddenly, heâs gone. You whine from the lose, trying to roll over and look at him, but he just shoves you back down with a growl. The sound of his hand is getting faster and faster, and a hot weight drops over your back. Bucky presses his face into your neck, and takes a deep breath. You whimper, and he groans. His hips must be rocking, with how the bed is shaking.
âSmells good.â He rasps. âGonna- Fuck-â
Bucky snaps back up, and you feel him cum more than you even hear it. Hot ropes spurt over your ass and back, seeping down the back off your thighs and into your pussy. You moan at the sensation, pushing back on trembling hands. Thereâs always just more of it, until youâre so marked up with him youâre sure youâll never be able to wash it off.
You donât want to.
With how Bucky grabs your hips and spreads the stain over your skin, you donât think he does either.
âShit.â He breathes out, and you hum in agreement. âGotta- Flip for me, câmon-â
Bucky helps you roll over. His touches are gentle again, but the gleam in his eyes hasnât faded. You blink at him, flat on your back with your legs spread. Bucky traces the lips of your cunt, then slowly pushes two fingers inside you. Fucking his cum back into your tight hole. You mewl, eyes fluttering. Your head tosses back, and Bucky smiles
âGood girl.â He coos.
You try not get all gooey and weak just from the praise. Bucky laughs, and you think you mightâve failed.
âStrangling my fingers, doll.â He teases, pulling them right out.
You whimper. Youâre too wet and ready not to take something. Itâs really not fair to make you wait.
âI know.â He kisses your brow, voice rough. âTrust me, I fuckinâ know. You just gotta tell me you like it, then-â His cock drags between your folds, and you keen. âAll yours.â
You blink at him, opening your mouth to comply.
But youâre at an advantage.
Buckyâs hard again. His body is wound so tight above you, and his every word is thick. Like itâs an effort to speak. Heâs still trying to fight against the drug running through his veins.
You want him to give in.
So you close your mouth, and give him a defiant glare.
Bucky growls again, and thereâs no more teasing.
His mouth pushes over yours, and itâs not a loving kiss. Itâs rough and quick, stealing your breath in seconds and distracting you as Bucky grabs your knees and shoves them back. You try to chase his lips, when he pulls away, but he shoves you back down with a grunt.
âWanna be a brat.â He grunts. âGonna get fucked like a brat.â
You almost beam. Yes, please.
Bucky folds you under him, your knees pressed to your chest and your cum-stained pussy on full display. He doesnât waste time, tapping the head of his cock against your clit before slamming right inside. Youâre so soaked you take it with only a hitched breath, but that doesnât mean your eyes donât roll back.
He hits right against you pelvis, when he bottoms out. His heavy balls sit on your ass, and the stretch of him is just enough pain to heighten the pleasure. Bucky kisses all over your face as he lets you adjust, but your pussy is greedy. Heâd prepared you too well. Youâre more than ready within seconds.
âBu- Bucky-â You gaps out, and he growls against your neck. âMove.â
If heâd told you to wait, you wouldnât have been surprised.
But the drug seems to have overtaken him again, and all you get is a noise like a snarl against your throat before Bucky draws almost all the way out, and slams back in.
The air is knocked clean from your lungs. This time, he hit right against your g-spot, and your whole body seizes up. Bucky makes a low, deep noise, and repeats the motion. Again, he drives right into that gooey spot deep inside of you. You clench around him, and he doubles over, rutting deep inside of you.
âThe- There-â You whimper, fingers scrambling in the sheets. âFuck, baby, right there-â
Bucky grunts an agreement, and starts to fuck you into the mattress. The angle is so deep youâre worried heâs going to permanently rearrange your guts. Every slam of his cock into your makes you see heaven, and Bucky pants over your, his eyes locked onto yours as your face contorts with pleasure.
Heâs not even fucking you like a brat. Heâs fucking you like a doll. He grabs at your limbs and moves them below him like youâre just a sleeve for his dick, and he needs you into just the right spot. One hand fists in your hair, forcing your neck a little up so you can watching your arousal gleam on his cock every time he pulls out. He moans every time he pushes back in, and you watch your cunt swallow his dick whole. A wet, smacking sound filling the room as he drills into you. He bends you even further to kiss over your neck and breasts, his tongue dragging in rhythm with his dick.
You try to clench around him every time he bottoms out, but your head is sort of empty, and now youâre just a drooling pussy around his massive cock, moaning his name and happily milking every bit of pleasure.
âOh- Oooooh-â You mewl, smiling like a cockdrunk idiot at the air. âBuuuucky-â
His mouth presses back over yours, and the kiss is strangely soft. His fucking hasnât slowed or relented, but thereâs a care with how his lips move over yours that makes you feel worshipped.
Thatâs what heâd said heâd do. Worship you. And you can really feel it here.
Bucky draws back, and the hand that had been fisted in your hair moves to your jaw. He squeezes again. You open for him easily, and his lips twitch.
âGood girl.â He coos, even if the words are tighter than before.
He spits into your mouth. You swallow obediantly, and open again when he squeezes your cheeks. Bucky slams forward with a groan, looking like a man wrecked.
âYou fuckinâ like it, donât you-â
âLove it.â You gasp, unable to even think to deny him again. âLove you, Bucky- Oh- Oh my god-â
Bucky makes a ragged, choked sound, and cums almost without warning. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream, as he pumps you full of his release. It feels like even more than before. Like youâre going to burst with how full you are, spurts of it still being forced out as Bucky fucks you through. Youâve never felt so totally claimed, with him all over every inch of your skin. He kisses you and you giggle, dazed and almost high on the feeling.
And heâs not even done.
The period of lucidity between orgasms gets shorter before it gets longer. Buckyâs ability to control himself almost vanishes all together. You get a kiss and broken mumble of your name before youâre being flipped back onto your stomach and fucked from behind. There will be handprints on your ass and thighs in the morning, and the sheets are stained with your drool from how Bucky railed you from behind.
Youâre dragged into his lap right after, and he pushes his thumb into your mouth, then ruts up into your gaping cunt. Youâre all moans and ditzy smiles by that point. When rolls you back onto your stomach and sits up on his knees, you just take it with moans and giggles and cries of delight.
He hasnât just ruined you. Heâs pulled you apart a million times over, until youâre just a puddle that sings his name.
You donât even fully realize heâs done, when he kisses pulls out that last time. You whine, and clench around nothing, but expect to get filled right back up.
Then Bucky kisses you, and itâs slow. Savoring and sweet. Romantic. His voice is hoarse, but itâs lost the strained quality. Heâs fully teasing again, smiling against your lips.
âSo soft.â He coos, rubbing your thoroughly abused pussy with his warm hand.
You writhe, trying to get further and closer at the same time. Bucky chuckles, and kisses the corner of your mouth.
âJesus, doll. Youâd think you were the one that got sex drugged.â
You try to glare at him, but forget why the moment you see his pretty eyes, shining on yours.
Theyâre blue again.
âYouâre back?â You breathe, and Bucky grins.
He ducks down, and presses another quick kiss over your lips.
âIâm back.â
 Youâre ordered not to move, while he cleans up. You donât think you could if you tried. Your body is jelly, everything is sore in the best way, and your head is spinning with too many thoughts of what the fuck happened.
You told Bucky you love him. You told Bucky you love him. Youâd never even fully admitted it in your head and he just fucked it right out of you. You said it fast, too fast, he thought you hated him four hours ago and now he must think youâre some kind of freak for just saying you love him.
He makes you drink water and go to the bathroom. Draws you a bath and brings you a snack and changes the sheets. You manage to find the strength to stand out of the tub and dry yourself off, wrapping the towel around your body before shuffling out in the center of his room.
God, heâs so handsome. All tan muscles and scars you want to trace with your tongue. Too bad you fucking blew it, and now youâre never going to get to touch him again-
Bucky turns, and smiles when he sees you. You swallow, bracing for the worst as he crosses the room.
He takes your face between his hands and kisses you. Deep and gentle and maybe he just forgot-
âLove you too.â He says against your lips. âJust- Uh- While weâre saying it.â
Oh.
Or that. Thatâs nice.
You throw everything you have into kissing him back, but end up tackling him down onto the bed with the sudden surge of strength. Bucky chokes out a laugh in surprise, wrestling you over onto your back with kiss and wandering hands. You giggle, trying to push back, and he nips at the tip of your nose.
Then he pauses, and pulls up with a small, worried frown.
âYouâre stayinâ the night, right?â
You almost snort. Thereâs no getting rid of you now. Youâre going to stay forever, and as long as heâll allow after that.
âYeah. Iâm staying.â
âŠEnd note: this was longer than my college thesis btw. and i. put more effort into it.âŠ
âŠIf you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3âŠ
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Patreon Commission for Vamp
Request: Dragon librarian oviposition >:3
Coworkers to eggpreg
Dragon x fem!reader || eggpreg, breeding, heat (technically), dirty talk, (light) degradation, (very light) dub-con, exhibitionism (kinda), egg inflation
Youâve been listening to your coworker grunt and moan and be fucking annoying all morning. Heâs an infuriating dragon whose only goal in life is to make your working day a living hell. Or at least it seems like it. Heâs always around, always complaining, and making everything a tad more difficult than it should, and it gets on your nerves like no other creature ever had.
And he also gets in your panties.
Because the thing is⊠Heâs so fucking hot and makes you so wet with only a look that you are embarrassed about it 24/7. Heâs an asshole, and it makes your pussy clench at every look when you should be grunting and being annoying back. But the sexual tension between the two of you is so insane it makes you want to choke most of the time. On his dick, preferably.
âWhatâs the matter with you?â You finally snap when he grunts at some book and throws it against the wall, startling you and making a couple of its pages fall off, floating in front of him like an ominous sign.
You look at him and you can almost hear the none of your fucking business in his eyes, but instead he looks at you, jaw twitching with tension before spitting: âNothing. Nothing is the matter with me.â
âYeah, right,â you scoff.
Your intent to focus back on your task is cut short, though. âWhy are you so rude?â He snaps back, trying to mimic your tone but failing because of his way too deep voice.
You blink at him, shaking your head. You are not going to argue with him further. It never ends well. It always ends with you angry and snapping at him, and itâs just pointless. Even if it makes you feel all kinds of hot under the collar to fight with him. It feels like foreplay, but unluckily for you, it never ends in actual sex. More like angrily shutting doors and someone walking away. Mostly him.
âOkay,â you mumble before going back to organizing some of the new romance books.
Thereâs a couple that catch your eye, like the one with a dragon on the cover that looks kinda similar to your asshole coworker. But you arenât going to analyze why thatâs the one which you want to read. Pure curiosity. Nothing to do with wanting some kind of dragon action in your life, even if itâs fictional.
âIâm pent up, okay?â You turn around like a thread pulled at your neck harshly. You try to answer, but your brain is short-circuiting at his words still. âDragons have this⊠This heat thing, and I can feel it inside of me. Itâs making me want to climb a fucking mountain or fuck somebody so full they canât walk after.â His words are so filthy you almost groan, muffling it with your hand in the last second. âForget it. I know humans donât have this⊠this thing.â He turns around, breathing hard. You donât know what to say, still processing his words.
âI wouldnât mind being stuffed till I canât walk,â you whisper under your breath, turning back to the books.
âWhat did you just say?â He asks, voice tense, and you turn around. Did he⊠Did he just hear what you said Oh, fuck. Oh, damn. Thatâs so fucking embarrassing.
He stares at you for what feels like an eternity, and you donât say anything, staring right back. But heâs stronger than you, and your blood is rushing through your veins, making you almost lightheaded. You are the one who gives up first, looking back at the shelves.
It only takes a second to hear him moving around the space. You turn in time to see him turning the âopenâ sign around and locking the door.
âWhat are you doing?â You ask, squirming on your spot, too jittery to move all of sudden. You didnât think he would take you on your offer. Is he really going to⊠Fuck.
âYou can back out in the next ten seconds, otherwise⊠Iâm going to breed you so good you wonât be going back home tonight.â His words are perfectly enunciated and controlled, but the way his pants are tented are enough. âLast chance,â he says when heâs just one step away from you.
You try to say yes, but you can only manage a nod, your tongue feeling too big for your own mouth while he closes the remaining distance between the two of you.
His claws find your head, caressing the sides of your face before entangling them with your hair, pulling hard enough to make you moan while your head falls back. âSay it,â he orders and your legs shake.
Your voice is barely a whisper: âYes.â
You are manhandled so fast you barely see the world moving before you are bent over a table, facing the huge windows and with a huge dragon pulling your pants and underwear down, exposing you to the cold air of the room.
âYou are always so annoying. Tempting me. Moving your cute ass around as if itâs nothing. You donât even think what that does to me, do you?â You arenât sure if heâs talking to you or to himself. âOr maybe you do, and itâs all on purpose. You do it on purpose? You like to act like a whore in hopes that I snap and fuck you right here? Is that it?â
You try to answer, but before you can, thereâs two fingers pushing inside of you unceremoniously. He starts scissoring them instantly. You are already so wet with all the arguing-foreplay, and with the way heâs moving you around and talking about you like you are nothing⊠Fuck. Itâs too hot. You are dripping and his fingers are curling inside of you and youâŠ
âOh, goddess,â you moan, arching your back trying to get him deeper.
He complies, and keeps running his mouth like his life depends on it. âIâve been wanting to fill you since the day you entered through that door.â His fingers go deeper, hitting your G-spot and making you see stars behind your closed eyelids.
His free hand lands on your ass, and you let out a squeal, much to his amusement. You look at him over your shoulder, ready to tell him off before he pulls his fingers free and you let out the most pathetic whimper. He laughs out loud, and it fills you with deep embarrassment, but that only fuels your arousal further.
âYou want it?â He presses the tip of his cock against your opening and you nod fervently, resting your face against the hard wood of the table.
The first bit of it feels like heâs going to break you in two, but instead of pulling away, you push back. You crave the spark of pain, the stretch to the point of insanity while you cover your mouth trying to be quiet.
And your stupid dragon coworker keeps talking. âYou know everybody who walks by could see you? Theyâll see how fucking slutty you look. How desperate to get my eggs inside of you. Because thatâs exactly what you want, isnât it? You want to be my dirty little whore, filled to the brim with dragon eggs and too blissed out to do anything. If someone looked through that window right now, you know what theyâd see? A desperate whore begging to be bred.â
By the time he bottoms out, you can feel him everywhere. His dick is bigger than anything youâve ever taken, even your biggest dildo. Heâs hitting a point so deep inside you didnât even know it was possible to hit, and itâs sending pleasure shocks to your whole body.
With each short thrust, your eyesight blacks out for a second, and every fiber of your being vibrates with pent-up arousal. You are so close to coming but you canât get there. Not withoutâŠ
He curls his hand around your hips and rubs his index finger against your clit. The scream that leaves your mouth would be enough to make a thousand birds take flight, but you canât care enough, when heâs fucking you through the most intense orgasm of your life.
He doesnât stop, he keeps fucking and rubbing until thereâs tears in your eyes and your whole body is attuned to his. Itâs rough and careless. Heâs chasing his own pleasure and not caring about yours. You are like a toy to him, and youâve never felt so desired. So hot for another creature. Youâve never felt like this. Never so desperate, never so close to being too muchâŠ
âDo you want my eggs? Do you want to be filled?â He whispers against your ear.
Even though you feel like you are closer to death than to being alive, you only have one response to him. âYes. Yes. Fuck. Yes. Please. Fill me. Breed me.â
He pumps into you a few more times before you feel it, your brain feels like scrambled eggs the second the first egg starts to go into you. It widens his dick almost to the point of pain, but it presses against all your special spots.
Your eyesight blacks out when it presses against your G-spot, making everything so intense you might disappear from existence if the pleasure gets any higher. The first touch against your cervix turns your brain into mush, and the second it slips inside you, you let out a cry thatâs a mix between insane pleasure and a bit of pain. Itâs fantastic, and it doesnât stop there.
He keeps thrusting. He keeps pushing egg after egg inside of you until you are sure you are really about to burst. Your stomach feels rounded under you, and your pussy has never been so stretched.
Thatâs when your eyesight turns dark, and the world melts into nothingness, his hips still thrusting into you.

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seeing red
âŠClark Masterlist - Read on aO3! - Main MasterlistâŠ
âŠsummary: all week, clark's been acting strange. he won't go near you, won't look at you, and by friday he's vanished all together. everyone seems to know why but you. but nothing's going to keep you away from him. not for that long.âŠ
âŠwarnings/tags: enemies to lovers, secret identity shenanigans, emotional angst, fluff, sex pollen, sex pollen level smut, a little plot for the porn (male masturbation, manhandling, clark's feral, emotional sex, dry humping, blowjobs and facefucking, dumbification, dirty talk, sensitive reader, finger sucking, clark gets nasty, body worship, crazy overstimulation, sex pollen stamnia, fingering, oral f!recieving, begging, praise kink, monster dick clark, he fucks like a machine, breeding kink), no use of y/n, no descrption of readerâŠ
âŠwc: 10.5kâŠ
âŠauthor's note: request and voted fic! i got. real horny with itâŠ
Clark has been acting strange all week.
He got into work on Monday with a red face, and you didnât question it. He runs everywhere. Itâs a little ridiculous he doesnât have a red face more.
âWant some water?â Youâd tapped on his desk, and heâd let out a sharp breath.
âYeah.â His voice had been strangely rough, his glasses almost slipping off his nose. âWater- Water would be nice. Thank you.
He hadnât looked you in the eyes.
Not when you brought the water to his desk, or for the rest of the day. When you got in the next morning, he was already at his desk, but didnât do more than mumble a good morning. His shoulders had squared and rippled, when youâd walked past.
Youâd gone to the bathroom, and made sure you didnât reek of something rancid. Maybe there was a sulfur leak in your apartment and youâd just gotten used to it. Maybe youâd stepped in dog poop on the train and no oneâs told you.
âDo I smell bad?â Youâd asked Jimmy, and heâd looked at you like your were crazy.
âI donât know? I donât go around smelling people like a- A serial killer-â
âIâm not asking you to smell me like a serial killer.â Youâd hissed, leaning down to block him in his chair. âIâm asking you to smell me like a friend, Lois smells me all the time-â
âThen go ask Lois!â
âLois is in Gotham, I canât ask Lois-â
âThen ask Clark, heâll be happy to smell me-â
âI canât ask Clark.â Youâd whined. âCome on, please smell me-â
Jimmy had eyed you suspiciously. âIf this is some weird mating dance, Iâm not interested-â
âItâs not a mating dance!â
âIt seems like a mating dance-â
âItâs not-â Youâd shaken your head. âJust stop being a fucking pussy and smell me!â
Someone had cleared their throat behind you. Jimmyâs eyes had widened, fixed right over your shoulder, and youâd known who it was before you turned.
You know that low, controlled sound. You know the rush that his attention brings, and the shiver up your spine whenever heâs close. You close your eyes tight, breathing through your nose, and turn to Clark with a plastered smile.
âHi, Clark! No one was trying to smell anyone-â
You cut yourself off when you see him. You almost forget how to speak.
Heâs a wreck. Curly hair is plastered to his brow, his white button up is more sweat stains than dry spots, and thereâs a vein pushing out of his neck that seems painful. His glasses keep trying to slip off his nose, and heâs shifting like even just standing is uncomfortable. Heâs pale and red all at once, ruddy in his face and paper white in his fists. The flush deepens near his neck, and returns to his arms right before the cut off of his rolled up sleeves. Heâs breathing through his mouth.
His eyes are black, and gleaming.
You scramble away from Jimmy, yanking yourself back from going to press a hand to Clarkâs brow.
Clark takes a jagged, stumbling step back.
You look back to Jimmy, and he gives you a tight shake of his head. He doesnât know what to do either. Youâve never seen Clark with so much as a paper cut, and now it looks like he needs a hospital.
âHey, buddy.â Jimmy tries, voice soft. Like heâs speaking to a feral animal. âYou feeling alright?â
Clark jerks his head to Jimmy, and his nostrils flare. Like heâd almost forgotten Jimmy was there.
Jimmy leans back. And you know he doesnât mean to. Itâs Clark. The softest, sweetest heart you know, shoved into a giantâs body.
But like this, Clark doesnât look like a man. He looks like something thatâs crawled out of your darkest wet dream. Like something that should be in the sky, fighting Superman. With the black eyes and sudden, jagged movements, he looks like an animal.
He looks dangerous.
And he doesnât respond right away. Clark stares at Jimmy, breathing heavily, then squeezes his eyes shut. You and Jimmy exchange another worried look. If heâs been corrupted by somethingâin this world, you canât rule anything outâand he attacks, youâre not sure you can fight him off. Emotionally or physically. Clarkâs huge, heâd crush Jimmy with one fist and youâd be nothing but an annoying fly to be swatted across the room.
But whateverâs going on with Clark, he seems to drag it under control. He opens his eyes, and a thin ring of blue is back.
âIâm fine.â He rasps, staring at Jimmy. âJust- Didnât sleep well. You know.â
Jimmy blinks. âNo, uh- I donât-â
Clark looks at you.
And you could swear the blue flickers, when your eyes meet.
âYou smell good.â He mutters.
He turns like somethingâs dragging him, and walks away. You and Jimmy stand there for about three more minutesâin total baffled silenceâbefore Jimmyâs mouth falls open.
âWhat the fuck is up with him?â
Nobody seems to be sure.
On Tuesday, he seems a little better. He eats lunch with you. Wheels his chair next to yours like usual while heâs editing, because you always catch typos he misses, and heâs a good reporter but not the best writer.
âYou canât use that word here.â You tap his laptop screen. He frowns.
âThere are no other words I could use, though-â
âCorrupt?â
âBut- Oh.â He sighs, hitting backspace. âSee? Thatâs why youâre the expert.â
You laugh softly, and Clark gives you his usual small, almost shy smile.
âHowâs your piece coming?â He asks kindlyâalways kindlyâand you groan.
âDogshit.â
âIâm sure itâs not that bad-â
âMy main source backed out.â You grumble. âLike a little baby bitch. I canât make this level of accusations again LuthorCorp without a source, itâs asking for a defamation lawsuit, and after the last one Perry would kill me-â
âBut you won the last one.â Clark frowns, and you give him a pointed look.
âYeah. Because I had a source.â
âAh. Right.â He pauses, pushing his glasses slowly up his nose.
You watch the movement as subtly as possible. You love it when he does that. Itâs a tiny, adorable quirk that makes you want to rip his hand away and push them up yourself.
âWhat if I said I have a source for you?â He asks softly, and you perk up.
âReally?â
âYeah, really.â He grins. âYou know, Iâd think youâd have faith in me, I wouldnât lie about that-â
âShut up, Iâm excited-â
âI can tell.â He boops your nose, and you stick your tongue out at him.
He does that all the time. He says you get a bunny nose when youâre excited about something, and then you hit him because nothing about you is bunny like.
Sometimes you say that, and he chuckles.
You have no idea. He mutters under his breath.
And sometimes he hits your nose, and your breath hitches because he touched you.
Today you keep it under control.
Itâs Clark that freezes. Coughs and goes red, wheeling his chair an inch back. You frown at him, ready to ask whatâs wrong, but he shakes his head like heâs already denying you an answer.
âItâs- Uh- Superman.â
You blink. âWhat?â
âSuperman can be your source.â He grunts, shifting in his chair. âI can ask him to. For you.â
âI- You donât have to.â
âI want to.â
âI can find someone else-â
âNo, I- Iâve got it.â
He stares at you. You stare back, heart swelling with something sweeter than you usually allow it to feel.
Youâre used to your feelings for Clark. You try not to think about them, especially not in his presence. Thereâs no amount of love youâd risk your friendship for.
But he makes that rule hard to follow sometimes. When he starts being stupidly perfect.
You smile at him, wide and unrestrained. âThank you.â
He nodsâtight and jerkedâstares for a long, long moment. He shoots to his feet.
âI have to go to the bathroom!â He announces to the whole bullpen.
Clark sprints away. Jimmy gives you a questioning look, and you shake your head.
He doesnât come back for an hour. When he does, his face is wholly red again.
Heâs back to not looking you in the eyes. Back to looking so sick youâre worried he might be going feral.
And you have no idea what to do.
Lois gets back on Wednesday, and the first thing she says to you is Whatâs up with Smallville? Perry corners you at your desk to ask if youâve got any idea whatâs Clarkâs been up to that might be doing this to him. Steve loudly jokes that everyone should be placing bets on when Clark passes out. Cat keeps trying to bring him teaâa thin guise so she can suggest home remedies to whatever super hangover he hasâand Clark always drinks it with shaking hands.
He listens to all her suggestions without interrupting, but whenever Jimmy suggests Urgent Careâyouâve given up on trying to get him to the ERâClark grunts a sound like no and wonât hear another word.
Youâre getting really worried. Everyone gets sick, but Clarkâs always talking about his very good immune system.
And nobody gets sick like this. Legally, Perry should be making him go home, but no one can get close enough to confirm a fever, and itâs somehow not effecting his work performance.
âClark.â You sit on the edge of his desk, keeping your voice soft. âYou need to go to a doctor.â
His whole body locks up. His fingers freeze on his keyboard, and he bows his head like heâs in prayer.
âClark-â
âPlease.â He says, so quiet you almost miss it. âBack up.â
You blink. âBack up?â
He nods, and thereâs a sting in your heart.
He hasnât asked anyone else to back up.
But you slide off his desk, and take a single step back. Another, when he doesnât relax from the first.
You clear your throat, tucking your hands behind your back. Clark lets out a heavy, ragged exhale, and looks up.
He still wonât fully meet your gaze. His darkened eyes are fixed right over your head, and you try not to let it hurt more than it already does.
âClark.â Youâve lost a little bit of nerve. You try not to let him hear it. âThe doctor-â
âI donât need a doctor.â He tells the ceiling, and you sigh.
âYouâre sick-â
âNo. Iâm not.â
âDude, I- I can feel your fever from here.â The heat, rolling off his body like heâs an active star. âAt least just go so they can say youâre not sick.â
He doesnât answer. You almost take a step forward, before reeling yourself back. He doesnât want you too close.
âPlease?â You say. âIt would make all of us feel better.â
That makes him look at you. For just a split second, barely a heartbeat, but long enough.
His eyes go wholly back. He wheels his chair backwards, like thereâs something toxic coming off of you that heâs trying to avoid.
And it hurts. It hurts so much your face burns with shame, and your stomach does a sick clench of pain.
Itâs never fun, for the man youâve quietly been in love with for years, to look at you like youâre proximity might kill him.
The only thing that stops you from crying is worry for him.
But thatâs not enough to hold back the crack in your voice.
âClark- Please-â
He shakes his head, jaw clenching. You swallow, and take another step back.
âOh- Okay. Sorry.â
You turn on your heels. Behind you, Clark rasps your name.
And you look back. You canât help it.
But all he does is stare at you.
So you walk away.
Clark doesnât come in on Thursday. Jimmy goes to check on him, but wonât report back on what he finds. When he gets back to the office, his face is bloodless and eyes wider than an owl.
âIs he-â
âHeâs not sick.â Jimmy stares at you like youâre a ghost. âHeâs- Um- We should- Give him space.â
You frown. âBut-â
âLots of space.â Jimmy mutters under his breath, already walking away. âAnd maybe me some bleach. Freakinâ- Gross-â
Lois comes up next to you, watching Jimmy head into the bathroom. Youâre wringing your hands, lips pressed in a painfully tight line, and Lois grabs your wrists.
âDonât go visit him.â
You shoot her a glare. âI wasnât going to-â
âYes, you were.â She raises her brows. âDonât.â
âBut-â
âDonât.â
âWhat if he needs something-â
âI texted his cousin. She knows what to do.â
âToâŠâ You narrow your eyes, pulling your hands from Loisâ grip. âYou know whatâs going on with him, donât you.â
Lois shrugs. âYeah. Maybe.â
âLois-â
âHeâs going to be fine.â She says, giving you a firm look. âDonât check on him.â
She walks away without another word.
On Friday, you go to Clarkâs apartment.
You donât go inside. Loisâ voice keeps ringing in your head, and while youâre more than willing to disobey her, itâs the way sheâd said it.
Donât.
His door is right there.
Loisâ voice fills the gaps in city noise. Pointed and direct. Almost hopeless. Like she knew you wouldnât listen.
Donât.
You made him soup, because youâre pathetic. Heâd left his jacket at work on Wednesday, and youâd brought it home to clean up before returning it. Youâd had a whole painted daydream made of pastels and watercolor, where youâd give Clark his jacket, heâd swoon with how romantic that is, and then kiss you.
But like real watercolor, the colors bleed and run. Blur together. Itâs too fuzzy a picture to be reality.
You stand at his door. You donât remember walking inside the building.
Donât.
But you want to.
Donât.
He could need someone, what if his cousin was busy, what if heâs been waiting for you to check on him-
Donât.
Loisâ voice isnât louder than your heartbeat. But itâs level. And your pulse is erratic in your throat and fingers.
And you keep seeing Clarkâs face. Keep thinking of how heâd been stiffer than concrete, until youâd moved away.
He wouldnât want to see you right now. Heâd made that clear.
You put the soup and jacket on the doorstep, and ring the doorbell.
Before Clark can open it, you walk away.
On Saturday, you hole up in your apartment and work.
Itâs a distraction. Anything not to think of Clark. To think of how sick he is, how he might be in pain, how he might need help but not from you. How lately he canât stand to be in the same room as you, and apparently everyone gets to know whatâs going on with him except you-
You groan, tipping your head back against the couch.
This is exactly what youâre trying not to think about.
Itâs hard, though. Impossibly hard. If only because you open your email, and see a bunch of messages from Clark. You open Teams, and his messages are pinned at the top. You send Jimmy something, and have to include Clark as a contributor. Lois sends you something, and Clark is CCâd.
Heâs everywhere. You canât stop checking your phone for a message, even if Jimmy says heâs basically out of commission. Canât really do anything right now, heâd grumbled, making a sour face. Too⊠Sick.
Heâd said it weird, but everything about this is weird.
Usually youâd talk to Clark about that.
You miss him.
Goddamnit.
Apparently, youâre very bad at not thinking about Clark.
You busy yourself. Clean the apartment, do the laundry, waste the day, donât think about Clark.
He gave you this pencil. Let you borrow this sweater, that youâve been hoarding like a dragon with gold since. Sent you the cheesecake in the back of your fridge as a birthday present, and it had been horrible but youâd kept it anyway.
You lie flat on the floor, and fail not to think about Clark a little more. Maybe you should text him. Just so he knows youâre thinking of him. Or text Lois and ask for his cousinâs number, so you can ask her if heâs okay. Or let the anxiety fully overpower Loisâ voice in your head, and go visit him.
Youâre about to go with that last option, when thereâs a bang on your window. You shoot up with wide eyes, expecting a massive bird.
Instead you find Superman, standing in your fire escape. Itâs hard to see him, in the shadows of dusk. His head is strangely bowed, his shoulders slumped in a way youâve never seen on TV. Maybe heâs just more casual, when heâs doing home visits.
But why is he home visiting you.
Usually that would freak you out. This week, itâs just another fucking thing.
You open the window slowly, poking your head outside.
âHello?â
Superman looks up at you, and your mouth goes dry.
He doesnât look well.
Red and pale face, messed up hair, heaving chest. Clenched fists, sweat-slicken face, blown out eyes with barely a ring of blue-
Like Clark.
Just like Clark.
And itâs not just the ragged appearance. Itâs something deeper. Itâs the way heâs staring at you like heâs worried youâre going to attack him. Like heâs restraining himself from moving, like youâre a repellant and he wants to fly away.
Or something else.
Without the glasses, thereâs something else.
He looks desperate. The shadows on his face look longer. Maybe itâs just the sickness overtaking him, but he looks hungry. Desperate and starved. Thereâs an openness on his face that wasnât there before. And heâs not looking at you like heâs afraid or skittish.
Heâs looking at you like heâs a predator. Like youâre prey.
âClark?â
âIâm here for your interview-â
You speak at the same time. Your voice is a breath. SupermanâClark? âpushes out his words like they hurt, and falters in a second.
He stumbles back like heâs been hit. You scramble forward to catch him, your body not worried about anything but Clark is going to fall.
Your hand wraps around his wrist. He makes a deep, rumbling sound from his chest. Almost a growl.
His eyes flutter. He moans out your name, trying to tug weakly away.
âClark- Wait-â
Supermanâs body goes slack, and he collapses in your arms.
At one in the morning on Sunday, too much is happening.
You put ClarkâSuperman? âin your bed. Took his temperature and dropped the thermometer in shock.
Heâs burning at 150 degrees.
He should be dead. Youâre not even sure how you touched him without burning up.
The thermometer clatters to the ground, and Clark shifts in his sleep. Groans out a garbled, pained noise that sounds like your name.
You swallow, hugging yourself tight. Itâs hard not to reach out to him, but you donât feel like you should. He hadnât wanted you near him, and youâve already crossed a few lines by putting him in your bed.
Then he moans, ripping the thin sheets off his body.
That time it was definitely your name.
Superman moaned your name.
You back out of the room slowly, with an embarrassing amount of effort. You canât rip your eyes away from him.
Clark in your bed, calling for you and rolling around like a rutting beast. Whateverâs tormenting him isnât enough to wake him up, but itâs enough to drive you out of your mind. You bite the inside of your cheek, and force yourself to close the door. It solves the looking at him problem.
It does nothing for hearing him.
And heâs loud. Youâre lucky the apartments have thick walls between units, or youâd get a noise complaint. Clark is almost howling from his room, and whenever you give into temptation and go to check on him, heâs somehow managed to rip another item of clothing off in his sleep.
It starts with his top. The symbol on his chest gets torn to shreds, revealing a broad, flushed chest. Heâs got a small happy trail. Muscles that you want to trace, and boobs that might be bigger than yours.
Your eyes wander to his abdomen. Thereâs a happy trail that leads down, down, down, and-
Oh.
Thatâs⊠Big.
You slam the door closed, and run back to the kitchen. Cold water does nothing against the heat building in your core. You splash it on your face and drink two glasses, but you might as well be downing sea salt. Youâre thirstier than when you started.
The image seems to be burned behind your eyes. Clarkâs bulge. Supermanâs bulge.
You still havenât really dealt with that.
Clark is Superman. Superman is Clark. Youâre sure. Youâve spent the last hour on the couch, sketching out timelines and checking your work. The random disappearances in the middle of the day. How youâve never seen him get drunk. The fact that heâs built like a Greek god but never works out, and whenever Jimmy asks him for a routine he just says grow up on a farm. Â
And be a Kryptonian. That would probably also help.
To be sureâyou have to be positive, before Superman wakes up and you start throwing around accusationsâyou cut out a pair of paper glasses and build up all your courage.
When you step into your room, it hits you like a tidal wave. The smell of sex, sweat and cum and something deeper. Clarkâs ripped off his tights, and apparently the outside boxers are the only thing heâd been using for cover.
You donât let yourself look. Your traitorous eyes try to, but you refuse to glance past his thick thighs. You wonât violate him like that. Youâre here for confirmation, and nothing else.
Carefully, you wipe the sticky hair from Clarkâs brow. His whole body shudders under your light touch, and he bucks up to chase your fingers when you pull away. A deep whine escapes from his lips, and you swallow.
Dear lord.
Very, very slowly, you put the paper glasses on his nose. He wrinkles it, trying to buck them off, but you plant a hand on his chest.
You donât mean to. You move before you can think.
Clark relaxes. His body goes slack like putty, save for a single hand flying to your wrist, holding tight.
He could break you. Heâs Superman. Youâve watchedâalbeit from afarâhim pick up whole buildings. But his touch on you is light, as if youâre glass. His jaw relaxes. A purr rumbles under your hand, and his thumb starts to trace small circles.
You stare at him, every logical thought in your head evaporating in the heat of the room. The glasses confirmed exactly what you wanted them to.
Clark is Superman,
And somehow, thatâs the least important thing thatâs happening right now.
His brow is unfurrowed, his mouth hanging open as he pants out your name.
âClark?â You breathe, and he moans.
This time, he calls your name. His eyes flutter in his sleep, and his hand starts to move. Dragging yours down his chest. Over his pecs, his ribs, to his abdomen and-
You yank away with a squeak, when you realize. Clark whines, immediately seizing up the second you pull away.
He looks like heâs in pain. Your touch helped, and heâd liked it, and-
No. You canât. You wonât. Youâre stronger than that, and heâs not in his right mind. Whateverâs effecting himâwhateverâs strong enough to effect Supermanâcanât be letting him think clearly. It would be one thing if he asked. Another to touch him in his sleep, just because heâd moved your hand there. He probably doesnât even know itâs you.
But heâd been calling your name. Heâs calling your name right now.
The steam of the room is getting to your head. You stumble away, squeezing your eyes shut when Clark keens in pain.
If you werenât such a masochist, youâd put in earbuds to avoid hearing him. But he keeps calling your name.
And youâre not that strong at all.
Clark wakes up at four in the morning. You havenât even managed to close your eyes.
Youâre so dazed from the everything that you donât hear him coming. You just realize the moans have stopped, and hear a quiet mumble of your name.
When you turn, Clarkâs standing in the door of the living room.
Heâs naked.
Fully naked.
And this time, youâre too tired stop your eyes from wandering.
Heâs glorious. Itâs not just the muscle and size of him, itâs all Clark. How his flexing arms are the ones that catch up when you stumble over yourself, and his legs are the ones that bring you coffee in the morning. Those fisted hands hold your hair back when youâre sick and boop your nose. His tense knees bump against yours under almost every table, and his chest keeps you tucked safely away from the world whenever you have a meltdown.
But itâs also the muscle and size of him. He looks wound up, so tight youâre worried he may snap. The coat of sweat on his skin is begging to be licked off, and his thick arms could wrap around your neck and you wouldnât complain.
And his cock.Â
You donât know how he manages to walk around with that thing. Itâs bigger than the toys youâve seen in shops, bigger than the ones in porn that have to be fake, bigger than the lewdest drawings on the internet. Thick and veiny, hard and standing proud. His balls are heavy, and you kind of want to put them in your mouth. Every inch of him is slicked with cum, and you realize you just licked your lips far too late.
Clark clears his throat. You look up with burning cheeks and wide eyes.
âClark, I- Iâm so sorry-â
âDonât.â He mutters, shifting on his feet. You can see his arms jerking wildly. Like heâs actively stopping them from moving. âIâm the one that should be sorry, I- I shouldnât have come here.â
He winces at his own word choice, rubbing a stain of release on his thigh. Heâd been humping the sheets all night. Youâd heard the squeak of the mattress, and-
âI broke your bed.â He mumbles, not meeting your gaze. âIâll fix it when- This passes.â
âClark-â
âStop saying it like that.â
You blink. Clark takes a deep breath, and looks up at you.
His eyes are shining. You canât tell if itâs with frustration, or sadness, or that something else.
âPlease donât say my name. Like that, or- At all.â His throat bobs. âIt makes everything very hard.â
Your lips twitch, and you glance back to his dick. He sighs.
âYeah. I know. There are only so many words I can use, you know.â
You laugh softly, despite everything.
Clark grabs the doorframe with a groan. It cracks under his hands, and he wonât stop staring at you,.
âDonât laugh either.â
âI- Iâm sorry-â
âAnd donât apologize, or- Or look at me-â
He cuts himself off with a long moan, and you fix your gaze very pointedly on the ceiling.
âCla-â You cut yourself off. âShould I call you Superman?â
âNo- That- Thatâs weird-â
âKal-El?â
âWorse.â He grunts, and you sigh.
âI need to be able to call you something.â
âIt would be better if you didnât talk, actually.â
That makes you glare at him. He winces, face scrunching in apology.
âNo, not- Not like that-â
âNot like what-â
âItâs just, when you talk-â
âItâs hard?â You snap, and you donât know why youâre so mad all of a sudden. Maybe itâs how you havenât slept in almost two days.
Itâs probably that. But also, something needs to break. If Clark just Supermans away after everything, youâre going to kill him.
âPlease donât sat that word.â Clark mumbles, and you shake your head.
âNo. Iâm going to talk, and youâre going to listen and give me answers.â
âI- I donât think thatâs a good idea-â
âYou donât get to decide whatâs a good idea right now, boner-boy.â
He wrinkles his nose. âThat⊠Doesnât seem fair.â
âMaybe, but you know whatâs also not fair?â You cross your arms over your chest, raising your chin. âIgnoring your best friend for a week, then showing up with a fever and- And magic boner then telling her to shut up!â
âI didnât tell you to shut up-â
âYou said I shouldnât talk.â
âI said it would be better if you didnât talk.â He mumbles, staring at the floor. âThatâs not the same-â
âShut up.â
âSorry.â
The wall cracks further. You wrinkle your nose.
âYou better fix the wall, Kent.â
âI will. âM sorry-â
âStop apologizing to me, and just- Just tell me whatâs wrong!â
You take a step forward. Clark shrinks back, but doesnât move away.
âYouâre not allowed to- To be mad.â He glances up under his lashes, and lets out another labored sigh. âBe more mad.â
 Thatâs not promising, but your worry outweighs your anger. You nod, watching him expectantly. He closes his eyes, like he canât bear to see your reaction. Â
âYou know kryptonite?â
You blink. âOf course I know kryptonite, I donât live under a rock.â
âRight. Well,â he coughs. âThereâs, uh- This thing. Called red kryptonite. And it does⊠Weird things. To me. And other Kryptonians. Which is just Kara- My cousin- I think youâd like her-â
âClark.â
âSorry- Sorry.â He groans. You can trace a bead of sweat down his brow.
âRed kryptonite?â You prompt, softer than before.
His cock twitches. You try not think about it.
âI got exposed to some.â He mumbles. âLast weekend. And it never does the same thing twice, but usually itâs something like⊠Shrinking me. Flipping my personality, or giving me an extra power or curse or- Once it turned me into a fish-â
âIt what-â
âI got better.â He says quickly. âBut itâs usually immediate. This wasnât. I- I even hoped I got lucky. That it wasnât going to effect me at all. Then I got into the office on Monday, and saw you, andâŠâ
He trails off, words hanging in the air.
Saw you.
You activated the red kryptonite in him.
Thereâs a very reasonable guess to what itâs doing. You still need to hear him say it, before you do something about it.
âWhat happened when you saw me?â You breathe, and he gives you a pleading look.
Makes a loose gesture to his erection. You bite back a smile. Heâs going to need talking into this.
âClark.â You say gently, and he groans.
âPlease donât make me say it.â
You give him a look, and he turns even redder than before. Stares down at his feet like a scolded child. Itâs almost adorable, while also remaining impossibly hot.
âItâs very⊠Demanding.â He mumbles. âAbout certain things that I would like to do. And it is very particular about who I need to do it with. But- I canât ask that of you-â
âCanât you?â
Your question is quiet. You know heâll hear you.
And Clarkâs head snaps up, his jaw hanging open. He shakes his head.
âYou- You canât mean that-â
âWhy not?â
You take a small step forward. Clark grabs the other side of the door way, tracking your every movement with that predatory focus.
âIâd like to.â You murmur. He grunts.
âYou donât have to pity me-â
âItâs not pity.â
He chuckles dryly. âFeels like it. I know you donât- Thatâs not how you feel-â
âWho says itâs not how I feel?â
You fix him with a challenging glare, and Clark swallows.
âUhh⊠Steve?â
You scoff. âSteveâs been trying to ask me out for three years, of course heâd tell you that.â
Clark shakes his head, his whole body trembling.
Youâve stopped a foot away. More than close enough for him to grab you. But he has to make that final step himself.
âI- I could hurt you.â He says, giving you that puppy look.
You shrug. âI like being hurt a little.â
His cock jumps. He doubles over, and youâre a little worried heâs going to break your whole apartment if he doesnât move soon.
âClark.â You whisper, taking a small step forward. âI trust you. And I- I want this. I want you.â
âNo, you-â
âDonât tell me what I feel.â
He shuts his mouth, still giving you that desperate look. You want to soothe him, but you just hold your ground.
âWill it hurt you?â You ask. âIf you ignore it?â
He nods, tight and controlled.
You steel yourself, even as your nerves start to buzz.
Not with fear.
With excitement.
âThen use me.â You whisper, holding his darkened gaze. âPlease.â
And Clark snaps.
He kisses you so hard you stumble. Knees buckle as Clarkâs fevered lips overtake yours, and your startled squeal only lets him kiss you deeper. Your fingers fly out for something to hold onto, and find only the air.
Clark picks you up like youâre made of feathers, and thereâs something steady about there being no ground at all.
If you were in your right mind, youâd think something about free fall and having no worry if thereâs nowhere for impact. If you can only be caught.
But youâre not in your right mind. Because Clark isnât kissing you like a kiss.
Heâs inhaling you, and itâs already lighting you on fire.
Thereâs a thick arm wrapped around your waist, the other holding your back. A hand wrapped around your neck, angling him to kiss as deeply as he wants. His tongue presses over yours as he walks himself backwards.
You push back, and he moans. Itâs the most beautiful sound youâve ever heard.
Clarkâs back hits the wall, his legs sinking slightly as you make out. Nothing in his hold on you falters. If anything, it tightens. Like even with your open mouth moving against each other, thereâs no way he can get close enough.
You respond to everything he gives you. Clark squeezes the back of your neck lightly, and you hum happily, smiling into the kiss. He grunts, when you thread your fingers through his hair.
He sinks further down, kisses turning short and desperate. He sucks on your lower lip, nipping softly and hauling you further up his body. Your nails dig into his scalp, and he drops his arm on your waist to grab your ass.
âClark-â
âSo- Sorry-â He groans, and you can feel him rolling beneath you, trying to get himself back under control. âYouâre just- So pretty, and- And soft, and-â
He drops fully to the floor, and you start slightly when he rips his mouth from yours, before burying his face in your neck.
âSmell so good.â He almost whines. âSo good.â
You take a deep breath, trying to collect yourself. Youâre the sane one right now. The Clark beneath you is still your Clark, but heâs also a man whoâs in a fugue state of lust. Not the mild, usually level headed, noble little dork you love.
Clark whines, when you run your nails gently against the back of his neck. Heâs almost shaking, kissing and sucking on your neck like he canât even help himself. You donât think he can.
It makes sense why he was avoiding you. This wouldâve been quite the HR violation in the copy room.
âItâs okay.â You coo, kissing the side of his head. âYou can take what you need, Clark, I told you I want it-â
âYou- You canât-â
âDonât tell me what I get to want-â
âNo, you canât.â He detaches himself from your neck, going completely still. His grip on your hips is bruising.
You donât mind at all.
âIâll hurt you.â He mutters, and you sigh.
âWe talked about this-â
âIâll hurt you.â He squeezes his eyes shut, over pouncing each word, and you stare at him for a moment.
You shift in his lap, trying to peer closer, and he hisses. His fingers dig into your sides, and his head slowly bows against your chest. Licking and kissing softly, as if he canât physically stand to be that far from you.
And you feel it.
The literal alien cock pressing against your ass. Youâd think was a stick if you didnât know better.
Oh.
Right.
Clark must hear the way your heartbeat picks up, and put it together. He sighs, warm breath tickling over your breasts.
âI need to get you ready.â
You swallow. âI- Iâm pretty-â You can feel your heartbeat in your cunt, and thereâs the familiar tingling ache thatâs always a good sign. âI feel pretty ready-â
Clark grunts. âNot ready enough.â
âHow do you know-â
âNose.â
âNose- Oh.â You flush. He can smell your arousal. âBut thatâs a good thing, right-â
âNot enough.â
He seems reduced to short worded grunts. Youâre not faring much better, but thereâs also a massive man below you that canât stop sucking around your tits.
âCan you⊠Always smell me?â You manage to ask, and he hums.
Thatâs his agreement hum.
Your jaw drops.
âAre you serious-â
âI canât help it.â
âYou- You could wear nose plugs-â
âNo. Like it too much.â
Your thighs squeeze, those deep words shooting straight to your cunt, and Clark groans.
âYou- Canât move-â
âYou should move-â
âWonât hurt you.â He grunts, like heâs making a vow. âJust- Need a second.â
You let out a slow breath, looking up to the ceiling. The idea comes faster than you want to admit, but youâre desperate.
âYou were better when you woke up.â You say causally, stroking your fingers through his hair. âLucid.â
Clark grunts. You smile at the air.
âYou came in bed last night.â
He stiffens slightly. âWet dream.â
âAbout who?â
You feel the ghost of a smile, against your chest. âYouâre very⊠Mouthy. Like this.â
And youâve been told that before. But something about the way Clark says itâlike something heâs measuring, a note heâs jotting down for a pieceâmakes you feel all glowy and stupid inside.
âWow. Mouthy.â You tease. âNot very polite, Clark.â
âThere are other words I couldâve used for it.â He mumbles, and you giggle.
âYeah? Like what?â
Clark draws slowly back, staring at you with those drunken, dark eyes.
âA brat.â
A lot of the fight leaves you, very fast. No ones ever looked at you like that. Like youâre something they want to chew on, carefully and deeply. To leave a mark while keeping every part of you both ruined and intact.
And his voice. Lower than youâve ever heard, and hoarse with desire. You were already a lot woman. This just seals your fate.
âI should jerk you off.â You blurt.
Clark makes a sound like a wounded animal, and drops his brow against yours.
âYou- You canât just say that-â
âBut it will help.â You give him your best, pouty and pleading expression. âYouâll feel better enough to- To get me ready.â You try to keep your voice level, as if youâre not thrilled just to say the words. âAnd then⊠More.â
Clark doesnât answer. He just closes his eyes again, breathing heavily through his mouth. You wait, but you start to get a little worried he didnât hear.
âCan you please look at me-â
âNo.â He grinds out, and you frown. Reach up to cup his face.
âClark-â
âDonât ask me to move.â His words are tight. Pushed through his teeth.
You feel his cocks twitch, near your ass.
âClark.â You make your voice soft. Traced the tensed line of his jaw, the bridge of his nose. He whimpers at the touch, and you smile. âItâs okay.â
âI- I need to get you-â
âIâm going to touch you, okay?â
His throat bobs, but he nods. Short and tight.
Enough.
You scoot back, and Clark lowers his legs at a painfully slow pace you accommodate you. Your ass drags over his dick, and he hisses, rutting up.
âSorry-â
âItâs okay.â You say quickly, smiling slightly. âGood preview.â
He looks at you in befuddled exasperation. Opens his mouth like heâs going to snap something else out about you being a brat.
You settle against his knees, and donât give him a chance.
The sound Clark makes when you wrap your hand around his cock is holy. Deep and guttural, like a man already wrecked. You let him sit in your loose grip for a second, watching his chest heave and eyes flutter.
Heâs throbbing under your touch. You can barely hold him with the single hand.
You add a second, and squeeze at the base.
Clark makes another one of those beautiful noises, and grabs your wrist.
âBe- Be careful.â
You pause. âDoes it not feel-â
âFeels good.â He grunts. âToo good. Gonna- Oh, fuck-â
Your mouth falls open. Clark swore.
You started to stroke his cock, and he swore.
And more. You need more. More of his swears, his sounds, his sweat running down his bare chest and the way heâs moaning your name. You need to see him fall apart, because once heâs back in controlâonce this massive dildo of a dick is inside youâyouâre not going to be able to focus on such things.
You set a quick pace. Skin slapping and hot, unraveling him quickly.
Clark calls your name, his hands slamming back to grab at the walls. You watch in awe as his fingers sink into the wood, creating a slot for him to hold onto.
âLike- Like that- Shit.â He tosses his head back, moaning loud and lewd. âYeah, baby, oh- Right there-â
He cuts himself off, rolling his hips up into your touch. You squeeze him again, switching your hands so one can thumb at the weeping slit on his head. Pre-cum leaks all over your fingers, and your lean further down.
You want to taste him.
When you slide off his legsâkeeping your hands workingâClark says your name in a rough, garbled warning.
âWhat- What are you-â
You wrap your lips around the tip of him, flicking your tongue where your thumb had been. Clark makes a sound youâve never heard from anyone before, his free hand flying to grab your neck.
The grip is tight, but painless. Youâre in no danger of pain.
Thereâs something thrilling about how heâs gripping you so possessively. Like a life line.
You drop your hand to play with his balls. Clark bucks up into your mouth, bumping against the back of your throat.
âSorry- Fucking Christ-â
You moan happily around him, drooling lips pushing down further. Your tongue swirls around him, and you suck, bobbing your head up and down. Trying to make him lose control again.
It doesnât take long. Not when you reach up to his hand on your neck, and push it down.
âAre you-â
You moan, and Clark gives in.
He fucks your face like itâs a toy. Cock slipping in and out from between your lips, your spit staining with his pre-cum. Tears prick at your eyes, but you dig your nails into his thighs, refusing to be pulled off.
âLook- Look at you- Holy- Holy shit-â
Clark moans your name, and you let your hand drift back his balls. He slams up at the featherlight touch, and the tears start to flow.
âYouâre so good at this sweetheart, so- So good-â Clark moans, hips thrusting to meet every bob of your head. âYour mouth is so warm, and- And soft-â
You suckle lightly, the praise going right to your core. Your ass is sticking in the air, grinding up into nothing as he uses you.
And you can feel how close he is. His balls are tightening under your fingers, his cock twitching and pulsing, and-
Clark yanks you off suddenly, with one last cry of your name. Before you can protest or try to go back down, you see why.
Heâs cumming.
And heâs not stopping.
Thick white ropes spurt from his dick, and you stare, transfixed. Every time you think he must be done, more comes. When the geyser finally stops, thereâs not a place it hasnât hit.
Clark lets out a shaky breath. You look up to him with wide eyes. He stares back, licking his lips.
âIf you-â
âDo that inside me.â
You speak at the same time again. Clark blinks, leaning back slightly, and you flush.
âI- I mean- Clark-â
He starts to drag you forward, and your words turn into a squeak. Your being manhandled right into his lap, your ass still sticking up in the air and your hands just barely bracing you on the ground.
âI heard you.â He drawls, running a hand over the curve of your ass. âPretty well, actually.â
His hand drags over your exposed core, and you whimper.
âDonât- Donât tease-â
âTrust me.â He mutters darkly. âI wonât.â
Two thick fingers toy at your clit, and you push yourself higher into the air. He knows exactly how to flick that little button, to drive you insane.
âOh- Oh god-â
âIf I had time.â Clark murmurs, almost to himself. âIâd keep you here for the rest of the day. Watch the sweetness drip down your legs,â his fingers trace over your sensitive inner thighs. âLet you make a mess in my lap. Wait âtill youâre begging for it, then touch you,â one, broad finger rubs around your fluttering hole. âNice and slow, until you feel what Iâm dealinâ with right now.â
You moan, gaping at the floor. Clark gets a southern, Kanas drawl when heâs horny. It makes you clench around nothing, and he chuckles.
âOh, you like that.â He presses the tip of his finger in, and you whine. âYeah, I know. Know better than anyone, sweetheart.â
He pushes his hips slightly, forcing your ass higher into the air. Thereâs a rip, and cold air hits your core, making you shiver. His cock, still so hard, bumps against your tummy right as his finger slips into your cunt.
âClaaaark.â You moan, squeezing tight around him.
Youâre rubbing backwards, trying to take him deeper. He splays one hand on your lower back, keeping you from getting what you want while still letting you chase the false hope.
He crooks his finger slightly, twisting it in a circle. You go limp, wrapping your arms around his thigh and pressing your cheek down for support.
âThatâs it.â He mutters. âJust seeing what you need, itâs alright. Shit,â he lets out a sharp breath, cock twitching against you. âYouâre so wet. I- I gotta-â
You hear it start to possess him, and you canât be surprised when he pulls the finger out. Still, you twist to whine at him, maybe try to drag his hand back. Heâs strong, but youâre horny, and thatâs sure to help you somehow.
Instead, you trip on your own hands and collapse back down at the sight before you.
Clark cleaning your arousal off his fingers, eyes closed and face slack like heâs having a fine meal.
You canât look away from it. Itâs the hottest, most lewd thing youâve ever seen. You whimper when he goes back into for more, dragging two fingers between your pussy lips before returning them to his mouth. He does it over, and over, and over again. Sometimes giving a little attention to your clit, like heâs milking you for more.
Youâre a flushed, wiggling mess when he finally pulls his fingers away with a pop. His eyes are wholly black, gleaming with lust and fixed on yours.
Thereâs nothing left of you but putty, when Clark slowly starts to rub your pussy again. Youâre a smeared, wrecked mess that canât stop grinding back onto his hand, and he smiles down at you.
Itâs predatory, but still soft. Exactly what you expect from him now. Pulling out the hair that got stuck in your mouth, all while slowly fingering your cunt.
âWanted to do that for so long.â He coos, pushing two fingers deep inside of you. âYouâd come into the office and start gettinâ wet right next me, I was slobbering like a dog. Thought Iâd lose my mind, every single day.â
His fingers go deeper, bumping against your g-spot. You keen, making an almost unearthly sound from your chest. Clark notices it. Of course he does.
âThere she is.â He mutters, starting to pump his fingers fast. Pushing against the gummy point over and over, until youâre drooling.
Your head has never been this empty during sex before. But youâve also never been put over Clarkâs lap like this. Fingered into oblivion while his dick pushes into your stomach. You start to push upâhe needs attentionâbut Clark pushes you back down with a grunt.
âNeed to be inside you.â He grunts. âNeed you ready.â
Well. If he needs it.
Itâs easy to relax into the feeling. Clark starting to thumb at your clit, rubbing it back and forth like a bop-it toy. Between that and his fingers, Clark is almost pulling pleasure out of you like a machine. It doesnât take long for you to feel like youâre close. Your face his presses into his bare leg, your pussy fully pried open and well touched. You can feel the familiar tension inside you, about to burst.
âClark- Clark-â You donât have the strength to twist, so you scratch at his leg. âI- Iâm gonna-â
âI know.â He mutters, and fuck, you donât doubt him. âWhenever youâre ready, sweetheart. Cum on my hand, let me feel it.â
It only takes a few more moments. Release hits you quickly, and lasts long. Thighs shaking and loud moans escaping your lips as Clark keeps playing with you.
Youâre dazed from the orgasm. Itâs the strongest youâve ever felt, and your cunt is still pulsing when Clarkâs fingers pull away.
âYouâre ready.â He mutters, and you agree with a garbled sound.
He laughs, leaning down to kiss the back of your head as you quiver. He pulls you up into his lap, and you can feel his cock sliding between your folds. Both of your are so slick with everything thereâs no friction. The tension in Clark tells you heâs close to going feral again, but his voice is still sweet.
âJust- Stay like that, beautiful.â He kisses the side of your head. âAnd if it- If anything starts to feel bad, tell me. Iâll stop.â
And you believe him. You know just how much this is affecting him, but you also know heâs Clark. And there isnât a force on earth that could make him hurt you like that.
âCan you- Can you please say youâll tell me-â
âIâll tell you.â Itâs barely more than an exhale.
Clark hears it.
âGood. Good girl.â He kisses your neck this time, and you whimper. âLet me- Canât do it here. Not right.â
Youâre not sure what heâs talking about until youâre airborne. Clark tosses you over his shoulder, holding you steady with one arm around your knees, and you blink at the cum and sweat stained floor. You might have to move, after this.
Maybe Clark could let you live with him.
Too fast. And not the thing to worry about right now.
Get fucked stupid, then think about your living situation and relationship status.
Thatâs a good plan. The best plan.
There really couldnât be a better one, you decide. Not when Clark starts to rub your clit again, using the full pressure of his palm.
âKeeping her ready.â He rumbles, and you hum. Youâre certainly not complaining.
Youâre already close to another orgasm, when he lowers you down onto the bed. Your back hits the mattress, and you immediately reach between your thighs, fondling at your pussy hopelessly. Nothing feels as good as Clarkâs hands. He mightâve already ruined you forever.
âDonât do that.â
Those very hands catch your wrists. You stumble over your breath, when you look up at Clark.
Heâs back into feral caveman mode. Stroking his cock with one hand, the other squeezing yours gently before setting it down at your side.
âI touch you.â He grunts, and you canât argue with that.
You lay down, spreading your legs slowly. In offering. Clark makes that guttural sound, his dick somehow looking like itâs gotten harder. You swallow. Itâs very hard not to touch yourself with a massive, hulking god standing over you and jerking himself off. For Clark, youâre going to try.
Heâs been reduced back to deep noises from his chest and moans of your name, but heâs not making any attempt to move on you. Heâs just⊠Staring.
Stroking his cock, and watching you. Looking between your wet, gaping pussy and flushed face, beating himself into his fist.
He moans, and doubles over. Pumps so fast his hand becomes a blur, and god youâd like him to do that to you later.
His face lands on your inner thigh. Soft stubble grazing the oversensitive area, cold breath pushing against your clit. You grab his hair, back arching off the bed at the taunting pleasure. Clark moans, watching you clench around nothing.
You cry, as his face fully presses into your cunt. Itâs right as he finishes himself off, his cum painting the mattress and covering your ankles.
Clark rises back up, and for a second you just stare at each other.
âDidnât mean to do that.â He rasps, and your lips twitch.
âI liked it.â
He chuckles, shaking his head. âOf course you did.â
Clark falls back over you, kissing you deep and slow. You call tell that the clear-headed affect of the orgasm is lasting for a shorter and shorter time.
And Clark choses to use it, just to kiss you.
He tests the head of his cock up and down your pussy, making sure to push it against your clit before going back down, and starting to slide slowly in. Thereâs almost no resistance, and he hums against your lips.
âGoinâ slow.â He mumbles. âWhile I can.â
You nod. Itâs all you can manage.
He feels just as bigâif not biggerâthan he looked. Never has a cock stretched you so greatly, and so well. The fullness is incomparable, and youâd be worried you couldnât take it if your pussy wasnât greedily swallowing him whole.
âThatâs it.â Clark groans, pushing in every inch so torturously and amazingly slow. Forcing you to feel every single inch. âThereâs you go, just- Just take it- Fuuuck-â
He moans your name, and you kiss him. You want to feel everything he has, vibrating through your chest. Straight into your cunt.
Clark bottoms out, hiding his face in your neck. You blink up at the ceiling, trying to push off more tears. Itâs good, unbelievably good, and your body doesnât know what to do with it.
âTight.â Clark mumbles against you, and you laugh breathily.
âBig.â
He looks up at you, and for a second, you only see Clark. Your best friend, looking out of you, always kinder than he needs to be.
ââm serious.â He says, low and rough. Like a secret. âWhen I call you pretty. When I- When I say I want you-â
You kiss him, and Clark melts into you in a second. You canât stop your smile.
âI know.â You breathe, and he nods.
âLove you.â He pushes in almost an inch deeper, like the words spur him on. âSo much.â
You blink, and his eyes widen.
âThatâs- Um- I donât think I meant to- You feel really good and my brain is soupy-â
Kissing to shut him up will only work so many times. You cover his mouth with your hand, every inch of you feeling alive. From his words, his body, every single inch of this glorious man thatâs somehow, all yours.
âMy brain is soupy too.â You whisper, clenching purposefully around his cock.
Clark grunts, rutting forward. You giggle, and he gives you a dangerous look.
âVery soupy. But,â You beam. âI love you too. And Iâm very serious.â
Clark pauses. Smiles into your hand, eyes shining in the dark. You feel a little like your floating. Youâd like to be rocketed right up to heaven.
âMake me dumb.â You breathe, and Clarkâs shoulders square.
Your hand is knocked away in a second. His mouth attacks yours, and the moment he starts to move, an orgasm is ripped from your very core.
You scream, locking up and clenching around him. Clark moans against your lips, grabbing your knees and pushing them up to your chest. Itâs a deep angle, and you can feel every inch of him, sliding in and out of your cunt. His balls slap near your ass, and his mouth hangs open as he stares down at him.
Heâs fully gone to the red kryptonites effects. Thereâs no question, as he bends you in half and starts to fuck you like a doll. But he still doesnât let his strength slip. You feel completely safe in his hands.
Safe and attended to.
Youâve never fucked a man who makes sure to hit your g-spot so much, and Clarkâs barely even lucid right now. But he drills down into it, moaning your name and making those sinful, beautiful sounds.
Itâs too much for your poor pussy. Two is a lot of orgasms. Three is yourâusualâmax, and thatâs usually with time between. But Clark isnât letting up. And youâre getting close again.
âCla- Clark-â You whine out, and he fucking growls. âClark, Iâm gonna-â
He makes a deep noise of understanding, and starts to fuck you harder. You cry out, grabbing uselessly at the sheets as the next release gushes from your pussy, flying up your spine like ecstasy.
Clark finds his own release there. With you clenching tight around him, writhing with overwhelmed pleasure and moaning his name like a hymn as you come. He throws his head back and starts to fuck like an animal, roaring your name.
He grabs your jaw, demanding your eyes on his. His thumb presses on your lower lip.
Cockdrunk and empty headed, you open your mouth and start to suck.
It feels even better than youâd thought. At first itâs nothing, just painting your walls and sticking so deep inside you, you think it knocks you into another, tiny orgasm. Then itâs more, spurting out of your pussy as he keeps fucking into you. An obscene fountain, staining your ass and thighs.
Then itâs too much. Youâre not sure you can breathe, but the lights dancing on the edge of your vision only add to the euphoria.
Now, itâs everything. Youâre full. So full. You never want to be empty again.
And you donât think Clark would allow that anyway.
Because heâs still fully hard inside of you. And with how heâs staring at you, you donât think thereâs a space of sound mind anymore.
Clark just stares at you, still mindlessly sucking on his thumb and growls.
You giggle as he grabs your hips and flips you onto your stomach. Drags your ass back up into the air and pushes himself back in with a thick moan.
Thereâs a chance that his cum is transferring some of the sexual stamina onto you. Itâs the only possible way you can last this long. Clark fucks into you from behind, kissing up and down your spine as his balls slap against your clit. Your fourth orgasm hits you, and you think you see he stars.
Clark cums again. You donât know how thereâs still possibly space for it, but nature finds a way.
You giggle into the sheets. Clark kisses your shoulder, rutting deeper and deeper into your abused pussy.
He might take your laughter as a challenge. Suddenly youâre being flipped over, and Clarkâs impaling you on his dick once more, forcing you to slide down and feel every inch.
Itâs a good thing you get giggly when you have good sex.
If he sees it as a challenge, youâre ready to lose, over and over and over again.
On Sunday, Clark fucks you through the afternoon and into the night.
There isnât a spot in the apartment that doesnât feel the aftermath. After making you ride him, he clambered over you and held you to his chest, fucking you with just your knees on the bed. After that you ended up on your back, then riding him again, then somehow on the floor. Against the wall. In the doorway, your face pressed against the window, Clark flying and holding you in his lap. By the time the sun was over your head, you were a wordless, dumb mess. Clark had you in a headlock and you were smiling like an idiot, taking his cock over and over again until you think you reshaped each other.
Now, standing in the shower to wash off the everything, you think if you reached down and touched yourself, youâd find Clark completely rearranged your guts to his shape. When youâd looked at him during the soft, quiet cleanup, his cock had certainly looked like youâd molded him to only fit in you.
Itâs an oddly romantic thought.
There are lots of those to go around.
Clarkâs waiting for you in the living room. Heâs been trying to clean, but you donât think thereâs a point.
âI told you Iâm going to have to move,â you joke, and he sighs.
âWell, I- I really tried, but-â He wrinkles his nose. âI think it got in things. When I- Yeah.â He groans. âI can see it.â
âSee it-â
âX-ray vision.â
âOh.â That fun revelation had gotten lost in everything else. Itâs going to take some getting used to.
Clark bows his head, almost in shame.
âSorry I didnât tell you,â he mutters.
You shake your head. âIt fine-â
âI wanted to-â
âClark.â You place a hand on his chest, smiling softly. âItâs okay. Really.â
He blinks at you, then relaxes.
âReally?â He asks anyway, and you nod.
âReally.â You nod to the floor. âI can even start apartment hunting right now.â
Clark laughs at that, and you beam.
Itâs the same. Even after I love yous and the sex marathon, itâs still just Clark. And youâre more lucky to have that, than anything else.
âYou could move in with me.â He suggests quiet and nervous, and your eyes widen.
âI-â
âIf itâs too fast, you donât have to, I- Geez, I havenât even taken you out on a date yet, never mind-â
âClark.â You raise your voice, forcing him to quiet down. âI was thinking the same thing earlier.â
He starts slightly. His lips twitch. âYou were?â
You nod, and he grins like you handed him the sun.
âItâs not- Maybe too fast-â
âMaybe.â You shrug. âBut I- Iâve loved you for years.â You look down to your fingers. âAnd we kind of lived together before. For work. And youâre my friend, first, so if you think itâs fine-â
Clark pulls your own trick. He grabs your face, and shuts you up with a deep, long kiss. You smile, rising up to meet him, and itâs barely been a day, but itâs the most natural thing in the world.
âIâm gonna do it right, though.â Clark says against your lips. âTake you out. Woo you.â
You laugh. âBring it on.â
âŠEnd note: sex pollen fics are so fun i feel like im getting a secondary highâŠ
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