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buckets-and-trees · 7 months

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Devour: ACID

Fandom: MCU Collection: Devour Title: ACID Characters/Pairings: Mob Boss!Bucky x f!Chef!Reader Word Count: 5.1k

Summary: A month since SALT and three weeks since FAT, your situation with the mob boss who bought your restaurant is still evolving in unexpected ways - including an unexpected episode after work tonight.

Content Warnings: explicit smut, oral: female receiving, analingus: female receiving, vaginal penetration/fucking, some light drinking, mob boss Bucky is kind of dom

Logistical Notes: I had planned for this to punch the ticket for week 10 of my Hot Bucky Summer 2023 collection for the prompt "Long day at work?" and so this is late for the @buckybarnesevents event itself, but I'm a completionist and am marking it off on my personal list for my own satisfaction. Also ticking off the U3: "Kink: Concubine" square of my Bucky Barnes Bingo, Round Five card for @buckybarnesbingo.

Additional Notes: @mlibbydp and @goldylions were so benevolent in doing some beta work on this so HUGE AMOUNTS OF LOVE TO THEM for what they both contributed to the piece and to me personally. This chapter is much longer than the previous two and just as part two evolved their relationship, part three makes some more significant moves and ... I needed the notes on making sure this still felt like Devour. Also... @biteofcherry you might see something interesting in here that's definitely included because of a throwaway comment you made earlier this summer.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

When you walked out into the garage, there was a black luxury SUV idling near the exit with Sam Wilson leaned up against it. Seeing you, he slipped his phone into his pocket and pushed off the side of the vehicle.

“Hey, Chef,” he greeted you with a grin.

“Really?” you sighed. “Now?”

He shrugged. “Please?”

“And is that you asking nicely, or him?”

“You know I just do what he says.”

You huffed. “You don’t always do what he says, but he knows you’re the most charming one and I wouldn’t refuse you.”

Sam laughed as he opened the door to the backseat. “Don’t let the charm fool you, honey, if you said no, I’d throw you in the back regardless, it would just be less fun for you.”

You knew that, too, which is why you simply got in without a fuss. Bucky, Sam, the rest of his men? They were all mobsters running mob business, dangerous beneath the surface.

As the door closed behind you, you looked to the front to see who was driving, then clucked your tongue. “He sent both of you?”

Steve smirked. “Buckle up. And of course he sent us. You don’t think he trusts just anyone with his girl, do you?”

Oh. You bit your bottom lip and looked away and out the window, a small warmth stirring in your belly. As inconveniently annoying as this ordeal seemed to you in this moment, there was that piece. Being his. You were starting to feel it.

You had told Bucky that second night in the restaurant that you needed more than gifts and sex.

He had taken your word seriously.

There had been walks in the park, an auction, brunch on his yacht, a gallery opening, a rooftop wine tasting, even a dinner party at Sam’s place where he ended up proposing to his girl. You had enjoyed all of them, but except for the night at Sam’s, the time with Bucky had been last minute – sometimes there was a text, but most times it was him showing up or – like tonight – someone sent to fetch you without notice. He seemed all too aware of your schedule, so none of these instances were logistically inconvenient, but with it happening once more again tonight, you couldn’t help but notice this pattern of behavior was clearly becoming a habit – being summoned. In general, you didn’t mind, you saw that he was demonstrating that he wanted to spend time with you, but if you were his girl, you didn’t want to be treated like one of the droves of people who were at his beck and call and certainly not like a concubine kept solely for his whims.

The SUV slowed and pulled up to the curb of an incredibly unremarkable building that spoke to money for how unremarkable it was – the kind of money that demanded magnificence but privacy. You’d never stepped in a place of residence quite like this before – you hadn’t even stepped out of the car yet, but even in the darkness you already knew.

Both men slipped out of the front seat. Sam opened your door and offered his hand to pull you to the sidewalk. “No frowns needed tonight,” he said.

“Says you.” You didn’t realize you were frowning.

Sam grinned, then headed around to take the driver’s seat just as Steve appeared at your side.

“I’ll walk you up,” Steve gestured for you to enter the building with him.

“This is his place?”

“One of them,” Steve responded.

You took a deep breath and followed him in.

Sharp looking doormen, green marble floors, golden elevators.

Chatting with Steve was always easy, and it was no different on the fifteen-floor ride up to the penthouse at the top of the building. However, you did feel a touch of nerves as this was your first time at Bucky’s place. You weren’t quite sure what to expect but were keen to learn more about this enigma of a man by seeing where he lived.

And there he was, ready to meet you as the doors of the elevator opened, hands in his pockets, tired smile on his face, but his blue eyes dancing with excitement, and that stirred the storm of butterflies immediately in your stomach. He reached out a hand to pull you into him.

“Thanks, Steve,” he said, though he didn’t take his eyes off you.

“Sure thing, Buck.”

Once the elevator closed, Bucky brushed his fingers over your cheek, cradled your head in his hand to tilt your jaw up, and then his lips were on yours, your back pressed up against the wall. Within moments you were breathless.

In the intervening weeks since seeing him at the restaurant he’d also kept his physical contact minimal, only a few light touches, an arm around you when it seemed natural for the occasion, except for two lingering kisses. One of those instances was after a walk in the park when he’d kissed you full on in the afternoon daylight, then deposited you into the car he’d arranged to take you directly to work, where his heated kiss had distracted you throughout your shift. The second was three nights ago, the last time you saw him, and that had been only a ghosting of his lips against your ear, along your jaw, and then a soft kiss pressed to your mouth before withdrawing and leaving you at your door, but it had gotten your whole body humming for him and haunted you as you went to sleep and in your dreams.

This, after so long, so much wanting, was like a wave crashing over you. You moaned softly, you let him pull you in, melting against him, and you nearly let him sweep you away, but then you pressed insistently against his chest.

“James.”

“Yes?” he did move back, but only enough to look into your face fully.

“What is this?”

“I wanted to see you.”

“So, you just summon me?”

You knew he didn’t miss the tenor of agitation in your tone because he dipped his head into the crook of your neck, and you could feel the smirk before he pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the juncture at your shoulder. “I was hungry for you,” he said, completely undeterred. And as his lips moved solely along your throat, your core begged you to forget the conversation you were attempting to have.

“Why?” you barely managed to ask.

“You know why.”

“Do I?”

Bucky pulled back again, frowning this time, but you put your hand on his face to soften his reaction. “Steve and Sam said I’m your girl, but…”

“I told you you were mine. Surely over the past few weeks, you can’t doubt that.” His stare into your eyes was steady, straight.

You didn’t doubt him.

You did need to hear those words said just that way though. You didn’t know how much you had needed to hear them.

It gave you the surety to say what you needed to say to him. “I’m not just another girl. No more summoning me, Barnes. I’m not one of your people, I’m not your plaything.” With your hand now resting on his chest, you let your fingers brush soft strokes up and down over his heart. “If you want me, want all of me.”

He hadn’t interrupted your statement. He’d let you finish without argument. You could see the way his face changed, and the shift of the intensity in his eyes made your breath catch. He drew you in closer, encircling his arms around your waist. “Oh, I want everything, don’t doubt that.” He brushed his lips softly on your forehead. “I was only waiting for you to want this.”

Your chest tightened at those words, but the next moment you couldn’t think because then he kissed you again.

And that kiss, though brief, was thick with heat, and when he pulled back he said, “I see your point about the summoning. Just know that I was eager to have you around at any opportunity.”

You smiled because he smiled. “I can forgive you for that – I guess I can be a bit irresistible,” you teased. Somehow his confidence made you feel steady enough with him to be direct, to be flirtatious, to simply be around him.

He brought a hand to your cheek again. “I’ll mend my ways, but let’s be honest… a little bit of you likes it – the spontaneity of it.” His smile turned to a truly wolfish grin.

You sighed but rolled your eyes playfully. “Maybe a little.”

He stepped away, taking your hand. “Come. You can have a tour later.”

Rather than asking where you were going, you simply let him lead you through the grand apartment. You didn’t take in every detail, but it was big without being too big. Rich and luxurious without being cold or opulent. There were sleek lines, but also elements of warm and comfort folded into the power that was also clearly on display. But your focus was on the way he held your hand and led you through his domain. He had no question that you would follow.

Were you so easily his?

No.

Your mind wasn’t made up.

You weren’t all in, but you weren’t reeling to run away.

He stopped in front of a mahogany door and looked over his shoulder at you. You arched your brow.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

“Alright.” And you did.

He opened it, and you let him lead you inside, through a room, clearly walking you past some furniture. You heard the sound of a fire in a fireplace, then you heard another door opening, and he ushered you in front of him and through that door. “Take your time,” he said softly, lips against your ear. “I’ll be waiting.” He pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, and then he was gone, shutting the door behind you.

You opened your eyes to the sight of a large jade green-tiled shower enclosed with glass and four gleaming gold showerheads. Turning around, you couldn’t help a soft giggle falling from your lips. The lavish bathroom was sheer perfection. Showering after your shifts at the restaurant was ritual for you. You toed off your shoes and began peeling off your clothes. Off to the side of the palatial shower, there was a gorgeous clawfoot tub, and next to that a plush navy settee with what looked like some silky things set out for you. After inspecting the knobs and heads of the shower, you got them running, adjusting them to the perfect water temperature easily, and stepped under the streams, a sigh falling immediately from your lips.

One of the shelves was stocked with some of the skin and haircare products you used, some you hadn’t but certainly knew the name and reputation of (but hadn’t indulged in for yourself), and the other shelf was stocked with men’s products. It reminded you of the significance of where you were – in his home – and the element of intimacy it evoked, being naked where he had been and would frequently be again. Where he likely would be naked with you. You bit your lip. You pulled down the bottle of his shower gel, popped the top open, and inhaled. You hated how much you already loved that smell.

No, you didn’t.

You inhaled deeply again, then set it back on the shelf.

After that, you set to reveling in the flow of the water over your body, and got to washing, unsure of the time, only focused on the smooth feel of the soap and textures over your skin, feeling more and more relaxed, and ultimately refreshed and clean.

Once you had shut off all four showerheads, you reached for towels more plush than any you had ever used in your life and dried yourself off before wrapping the large bath sheet around your torso. You padded over to the settee to discover a short black silk robe waiting for you.

And nothing else.

You shook your head but grinned. “Audacious bastard,” you whispered.

But you didn’t bother with anything else.

At the vanity there were more hair, face, and body care products and tools clearly stocked for you – again some familiar and some you’d only dreamed of, none of this really a shock given your experience with this man. You weren’t certain how long you’d taken in the shower, having lost track of time, but here you suddenly did find yourself trying to take more time, a small fluttering of nerves in your stomach, because though he'd had his way with you in the kitchen of the restaurant and discreetly pulled an orgasm from you at the table in the dining room, this would be different.

Tonight, your body would be his, no restrictions. There was no worry for privacy, no limited amount of time.

There were also emotions now.

You had set the terms – that you needed to be more than a body to him – and he’d met them, courting the rest of you these past weeks, and putting the physical on the back burner.

He had made his intentions for tonight expressly clear.

And you wanted him, too.

But you were still nervous.

When you put your hand on the doorknob, you closed your eyes for a moment, taking one deep breath to steady yourself. Then you stepped out and into the next room, which – to no surprise – was a grand and spacious bedroom. Bucky was sitting on a couch in front of the fireplace you’d heard earlier, but immediately set a book aside and stood when he heard you. You were happy – and feeling a little more heat in your core – to see he was out of his earlier clothes and down to only a pair of silk pajama bottoms.

“How was your shower?” he asked, standing up and beckoning you over.

“The shower was glorious. You’re a bit wicked to only leave me a robe, though, aren’t you?”

He placed a kiss to your forehead and motioned to get comfortable on the couch while he moved over to a small bar cart nearby to get you a drink. He shot a smug over his shoulder. “I plan to get lucky.”

You snorted. “You brought me here late at night, kissed me like you did earlier, sent me to shower, left me only a very slinky silk robe to wear, and then greet me again looking like this,” you gesture at him, “fixing me a drink, and you call that ‘planning to get lucky?’”

He shrugged, his smug grin only growing. “Do you think there’s any way in hell I’d be where I am if I hadn’t strategically hedged my bets? Absolutely I plan to get lucky. I make sure I don’t give luck any reason not to go my way.”

You didn’t need alcohol. He was beyond intoxicating. He had been from that first night.

“And I’m assuming I don’t get a choice of drink tonight, either?”

He looked at you again. “I let you choose a lot of things, but I want you to try this. I think you’ll like it.”

You bit your lip and tucked your legs up under you, draping an arm over the back of the couch and facing him as well as where he would return to sit once finished mixing your drinks. His back was to you now, and you were not surprised he seemed to want to keep his preparation a mystery at least for a few more moments.

“Long day at work?”

“Work?” You weren’t expecting such a normal inquiry about it.

“Yes,” he chuckled, “work, my beautiful, talented chef.”

He handed you a wine glass with clear liquids over ice, garnished with fresh mint and slices of lemon, while he had what looked to be a whiskey smash in his other hand. You took an experimental sip as he sat close to you, angling his body to face you, resting his arm over the back of the couch as well. The citrus and mint blended with something floral and…

You swished the contents of your drink in your glass before taking another sip. It was bright and refreshing and not quite the evening night cap you would have expected.

He watched your face, gaging your assessment as he sipped his own drink.

“What is this?” you asked.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes,” you countered, “but what is it, James?”

Your name on his lips ticked the corner up in a half smile. “It’s a Hugo cocktail.”

“It’s not a predictable choice for the middle of the night.”

“It wasn’t my intention to bring you hear and tuck you in straight away.”

You laughed. “There’s no question what your intentions were. We established that.”

He tilted his head slightly. “You’re not picking up on all my intentions.”

Your brow furrowed. Then you let out a little yip of surprise as he pulled you closer, you clutching your wine glass to keep from spilling the drink.

He had already positioned himself close to you, but this was even more intimate. You were nearly in his lap, and he did pull your legs up to drape across his thighs.

“Now tell me about your day.”

“Oh, you were serious.”

His hand settled on one of your bare thighs, just next to your knee.

“If I didn’t want all of you, I would’ve fucked you in the foyer and let you go home. I want this, too. Now talk.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but you smiled. This really was him – demanding but not inflexible, and certainly giving you more than you expected.

So, you did talk, just as you had been really starting to the more he had brought you around to spend the time with him these last weeks. However, there was no getting around that this was more intimate. No others around, no distractions, no functionality of a thing you were doing together, only the two of you.

His line of inquiry was genuine, and he listened intently.

Almost too intently.

You were his singular fixation, and you knew he was thinking of nothing but you as you spoke.

And his fingers brushed idly over your thigh as you conversed.

The soft, repetitive motion wasn’t distracting at first, but it wasn’t long before it was an overwhelming tease of what wasn’t happening.

The physical touch you hadn’t experienced at his hand in weeks.

He was asking questions about how some of the new members of your kitchen staff were integrating, and all you wanted him to do was glide that hand down between your thighs.

You sipped at your drink, and as you continued to talk, you let your other hand drift to rest on his arm still draped over the back of the couch, and your fingers traced along a vein on his forearm. Although it was difficult not to let your eyes drop to his bare chest, you kept his gaze. If he was going to continue talking like this proximity and the lack of clothing between you both wasn’t affecting him, you were determined to match him.

Finally, he moved his hand from your thigh, but it went straight to your waist to curl just above your hip. “Kiss me,” he said.

You leaned forward and pressed your lips hungrily to his without hesitation. He set his drink to the side, then grabbed yours to do the same. With both your hands free, neither of you wasted another moment. Your hands went to his neck while one of his hands traveled slowly up your spine, the other holding your face. As impatient as you were for him, both of you kissed to savor, but there was no rush to it. His lips moved against yours, your tongues explored together, tracing, memorizing, exploring. It wasn’t enough, the tenor moving from savoring to consuming, and you shifted, moving into his lap.

He broke off the kiss briefly, turning his head to the side, but his left hand remained firmly against your back, keeping you close, and you rested your forehead against his temple. His other hand reached to the side table, and he plucked one of the slices of lemon and some mint from your drink. Curious, you lifted your head away. He brought the mint leaf to your mouth first, pressing it along your bottom lip. Then he pinched the fruit against your lip. The mint played with the acid of the citrus deliciously as he kissed you again, this time each of you nipping and licking intermittently through the kisses. Your hands explored the broad planes of his chest now, and his hands raked up and down your sides, thumbs skimming over the side swells of your breasts.

Keen for more, you pressed your body closer to him, pushing your core directly against the hardness of his cock. Rocking your hips, you drew a debauched moan from him that made you swell with pride and made your pussy ache even more for him. You needed him, each moment driving that need exponentially now.

The thick arms and broad chest you were getting to explore freely for the first time held only some of the rippling muscles that made it seemingly easy to push up off the couch while still holding you close with one arm, and it made a broken whine escape the back of your throat. You wrapped your legs around his torso, and his other hand squeezed and held your ass against him as he moved you from the seating area across the room to the bed. He tossed you down on the mattress, then pushed the silky robe – which was naturally already askew – off your body and flung it away. You pushed yourself back a bit more on the bed, and he was only a half second behind crawling up after you.

He pushed your legs wide open, and dove immediately for your dripping cunt. You laughed, a little flushed, but also more than ready for him to bury his face between your thighs. You let your head fall back against the soft bedding, closing your eyes. Then you yelped as there was a sharp slap to your pussy instead of his lips on your folds. You jerked up to look at him, and the devilish grin on his face, the darkening of his eyes made your heart stutter.

“Don’t laugh, Chef, I told you I was hungry for you. Keep your eyes on me,” he said.

You took a deep breath, leaned back on your elbows, and gave him a solemn nod.

He pressed kisses slowly along your inner thigh, his deep blue eyes locked on yours. The fluttering in your stomach rose steadily, your pussy desperate for his attention. When he planted his lips in the crease of your thigh, he left his mouth there. A broken whimper leapt from your throat, and you pushed your hips up.

He pushed your hips back down with one of his large hands and moved his mouth the opposite direction and bit at the tender flesh of your inner thigh, making you yelp.

“Please,” you murmured.

“Eager for me?”

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation.

“Good.”

And then he worshiped your cunt, kissing it with as much fervor as he had kissed your mouth, and you moaned openly, no worries over anyone but him hearing you here. You didn’t look away, completely captivated because this was also a new level of intimacy that you felt both ready and unprepared for. Receiving oral sex from other partners had never felt so purposeful. This man in this moment was so avid in the way he was pleasing you, making you watch him, you brain was having a hard time recalling if sex with anyone before him had ever been so intense. You didn’t think it had – that first night when he’d demanded it from you in the kitchen, the next time he’d coaxed you into a few moments of pleasure in the dining room, and now inviting you here to have you without restraint – each encounter had been unlike anything before.

The pleasure was overwhelming as his lips and tongue licked, sucked, flicked your clit, delved into your folds, and he kept a keen eye on your every reaction. You began to feel lightheaded with the mounting waves of bliss, your toes curling, breaths coming in short gasps until your head fell back because you simply couldn’t look at him anymore, couldn’t do anything but feel, ready to fall over the edge because of him again.

But then he pulled his face away, jerking you back from that edge of ecstasy and you would have whined, but he was already manhandling your hips to flip you over. One of his rough palms smoothed slowly and firmly up your spine, applying delicious pressure, but you still felt the lack from the orgasm he’d dangled then withdrawn. “James,” you moaned. “James, please.”

He drew his palm slowly back down your spine. “You’ll have me, Chef, don’t doubt that.”

You whined again, but he pushed your thighs apart and slotted himself again between them, holding you splayed open for him with his broad shoulders. It was a little uncomfortable, stretching your legs, but you settled and breathed through it anticipating what was coming next.

His tongue teased at your clit for a moment, then slowly licked up and between your folds to dive into your cunt, lapping inside, and you shivered. But then one of his hands pushed at your ass cheek and his tongue continued moving up, and you gasped and tried to move away when the tip of his tongue teased your tight, puckered hole.

“Easy,” he said softly but firmly, his other hand moving beneath you and hooking at the juncture of your thigh to pull your hips back flush against him. He pressed a kiss to your round ass cheek.

“I’ve never,” you admitted enough, he knew what you meant. He kissed the same spot on your ass cheek, but then he shifted, and you felt him moving up over your back, his body pressing lightly against you until he was up at your shoulder. He pressed a kiss there, and then looked at you.

“Then I won’t give you more than my tongue tonight, but you know I’ll make you feel good, don’t you?”

You nodded.

He smiled, then left the ghost of a kiss to your temple and slipped back down behind you.

Resuming his exact same positioning, his left hand curling under to anchor at the juncture of your leg, his right pressing you open to expose your ass, you pressed your cheek into the pillow and took a deep breath. You reached your left hand down to meet his, and he twined his fingers reassuringly with yours as they sought him. Then his mouth pressed in, and his tongue darted out, swiping over the tight ring of muscle.

“Just relax and feel,” he instructed.

You concentrated on breathing and then the new sensation. Unexpected. Then a different kind of pressure, then pleasure. It wasn’t awful as had always been insinuated. It was debauched more than anything else, and he soon had you moaning and panting and wriggling back against his tongue which alternated between lapping at the hole and teasing in and out. It was when you pushed hard back against him that he pressed a kiss again there and pulled back.

“I know what you like.”

It wasn’t a brag; it was a statement of possession that sent a shiver through your body. Because he was right, and you couldn’t deny that.

“Now come here,” he said, pulling you by your hips up to kneel, presenting for him. “Such a pretty folds.” His fingers circled your clit, then slipped briefly inside your cunt, drawing a happy gasp from you.

He grabbed his thick member and brushed the tip up and down over your sensitive parts a few times as you pushed up on your elbows, your back arched in a beautiful bow for him. When you looked over your shoulder at him, he finally sunk his cock into you. His hips pushed forward against you slowly until he was completely buried inside you, filling you, pressing so intimately into you. Fully sheathed, he stayed there for a moment, and he ran his hands over your hips and your lower back, caressing, relishing in the fill. He pulled back slowly, but only a couple of inches, then pushed back in, clearly wanting to relish in this for a moment. You had no desire to rush him either.

When his hands gripped your hips, you dropped your forehead to rest your forearm on the mattress, and then he began to fuck you, building a steady rhythm. He built up bit by bit, and you both let words and sounds fall out of your mouths as the physical feelings increased in intensity. Having been so close twice, when he finally moved a hand to rub expert circles into your throbbing clit, your body quickly responded in releasing your orgasm, and your spasming walls pulled him right along with you, and he came with a shout over your moans, a stuttered thrust, and then he continued a few more pushes, his hot spend coating your walls.

He wrapped an arm around your stomach and pressed kisses into your back, and you curled up into him with a hum of contentment.

When he pulled out, he reached over to the bedside table to retrieve a waiting damp hand towel – you shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d prepared to this detail – and then cleaned you up and then him before tossing it away. He stroked your back once more, then scooped you to your side, and pulled your naked and spent body to him so he could spoon up against you. You put your arm over his, and he nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

“Stay?” he murmured simply into your ear.

This you didn’t answer immediately. You let your chest fill and empty with a few breaths, weighing your answer between your head and your heart. But neither of them fought to leave.

“Okay,” you finally breathed.

He settled in even closer, then reached for the sheets to pull up over the both of you. “I told you that first night that you would warm my bed.”

“Don’t be smug,” you protested.

“I’m not,” he insisted, and pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, “I’m only pleased I’ve finally got you here.”

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #mob boss!bucky barnes x reader #mob au #bucky barnes x you #devour au #aspen wrote something #bbb2023 #buckybarnesbingo2023 #female reader

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