#howdoyousleep kinktober 2022

[howdoyousleep3]

Rating: Explicit (E) Word Count: 7K Notable Tags: Established Relationship, Daddy Kink, Light Dom/Sub, Surprise Roleplay, Crossdressing, Feminization (!!!!), Age Difference, Breeding Kink, Butt Plugs/Sex Toys, Manhandling, Rough Sex, Breeding Kink (!!!!!!), Anal Sex, Overstimulation, Breathplay, Dirty Talk, Pregnancy Kink (!!!!) A/N: Y'all...😮‍💨 This shit is wild. I'm so horny for these two and for this specific kink, it's craaaaaaazy. How have we never indulged in Senator and Breeding Kink?? This might be my favorite thing I've ever written for them and I can't wait to hear what you think. This fic is entirely dedicated to @vilkasdaina since she was the one that requested it. Extra lub to @the-iceni-bitch and @maddiewritesstucky for hyping me up when I needed it most. I hope you enjoy. 🧡 Read here on Ao3.

Bucky thought his hands were trembling as he was cutting up carrots and potatoes, steaming Steve’s dress shirts, and fluffing the pillows on his bed, but that’s nothing compared to the tremor of them when he hears the senator opening the door to his apartment. 

The shake of his fingers as he tied the frilly white apron around his waist, his waist while wearing a dress, is a very close second though.

Bucky has but a second to consider how long he’s been thinking of this moment, how long it’s been brewing in his mind. He’s spent months planning this daydream out, from hyping himself up into going to the extreme, to ensuring that this was the perfect Friday to execute his plan. 

Every single thing is perfect so far: how easy it was to get into Steve’s apartment, how unrushed he felt throughout the chore list, how delectable both dinner (pot roast) and dessert (red velvet cake) look and smell. Even the dress he borrowed from Wanda fit him perfectly, black and cinched at the waist and low-cut. 

“I hate you. You look better in this dress than I do. How is that possible?” 

She even believed him when he said it was for some Halloween party on campus. He couldn’t bring himself to buy a new pair of heels but he is wearing stockings underneath this dress, one on each leg, and that will just have to do. 

Every single aspect of the night has worked out flawlessly and yet here Bucky is about to faint wondering what Steve’s reaction is going to be. He has to like it. Right? Bucky’s been taking hints all the way back from when they were merely boss and employee, comments about coming home to a warm meal and wishing he had someone to come home to and to take care of him, how his ma would do the same for his father before he passed away. 

Steve is a man who wants to be taken care of, pampered. 

And Bucky is just delusional enough to provide that for him, even if it is but for a night. There’s no option left but to follow through and do it well.

He’s pulling the roast out of the oven with shaky hands when Steve walks into the kitchen. 

“Hi honey,” Bucky purrs, surprised at his own sultry tone, the false confidence it’s laced with. “I hope you’re hungry.” 

The look Steve gives him from the doorway of his kitchen floods Bucky’s mind and body with almost too many emotions. The senator is hungry indeed, eyes blazing as he takes in the situation before him, no doubt Bucky’s attire. Surprise is evident on his face, as is confusion. 

Bucky places the roast onto the stovetop, checks the temperature of it to ensure its doneness, turns back towards Steve. 

Steve looks at him, unmoving and critical. Bucky anticipated this moment, this moment where Steve plays along or calls it off. He gives him a moment to take everything in, to make decisions for himself on whether or not Bucky has gone too far or if he wants to continue. Bucky can almost hear his questions from here, can hear that brilliant mind working overtime. 

Steve is rarely caught off guard and Bucky can already feel himself growing addicted to making this a frequent occurrence. 

One thing is for certain— Steve looks like a housewife’s wet dream. It feels like he takes up every extra inch of space in this kitchen, both with his physical presence and dominating air. A charcoal-colored suit, a crisp white dress shirt, a tasteful tie; Bucky wants to unwrap him button by button. His suit is perfectly rumpled, his hair windswept, his cheeks flushed. He looks like he needs to be taken care of and something deep deep within Bucky reacts. 

He ignores it mostly, but capitalizes on the opportunity in front of him. 

He makes his way across the kitchen towards the older man on shaky feet, stops when he is toe to toe with him. The way Steve looks at him is unnerving, predatory. He’s in Bucky’s head already, is affecting him physically too. He feels himself stir between his legs, his dick filling out under the silk of the women’s panties he’s wearing. The excitement is almost too much to contain, his body interpreting it as sexual excitement. 

It probably is.

He indulges in his urges and clenches down around the plug buried in his ass. 

It’s definitely sexual excitement. 

He reaches forward on his tippy-toes, places a kiss onto Steve’s bearded cheek. When he pulls back Steve continues to fill the air with silence. Bucky chooses to reach for Steve’s shoulder bag, taking it from his body and placing it in its designated spot on its hook a few steps away. His heart hammers against his chest when he makes his way back towards Steve. 

It batters overtime against his ribcage when the senator startles him with a burly arm wrapped tightly around his waist, with a tug and a squeeze that results in his entire front being pressed deliciously to the older man’s own. 

“Smells delicious,” he purrs against Bucky’s mouth, hand quickly wandering down to his ass draped in silky material. Bucky’s heart soars elatedly, his mouth parting to make way for his breathing picking up. When Steve’s big fingers dig into the meat of his ass, kneading, Bucky can’t help but gasp. He feels smaller like this, in this roleplay and dressed more femininely. He’s tempted to drop to his knees right here and call the whole thing off to suck Steve off, but he worked too hard for this. He has to stay focused. 

He lets himself gasp again, this time in more of a shocked manner, pushes at Steve’s chest as he turns his cheek away from Steve’s mouth. 

“No sir, not in the kitchen and not after I’ve worked so hard on dinner,” he breathily tells him, voice full of fake scandal before he turns his attention back towards the stove. As with every other moment spent with the senator, he fails to remember and anticipate just how intoxicating the man’s physical presence and pushiness is. He takes a few deep breaths as he pulls a rocks glass out of the cabinet and makes his way to Steve’s liquor selection. 

“Did you have a good day?” Bucky asks lightly, working to pour a generous amount of scotch into the glass he retrieves. He moves towards the fridge, grabs a sphere of ice specific for drinking liquor. It’s quite fancy if you ask Bucky, but he wasn’t surprised in the slightest when he found them in Steve’s freezer. 

“It was…” Steve starts, saddling up to the kitchen island. “It was a lot actually. I wasn’t sure it was going to end.” 

Bucky’s chest pulls tight. He brings Steve his glass, places it in his hand before turning his attention back to dinner. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Midterms are such a stressful time, understandably so. You have nothing to worry about, you know this.” 

The reassurance flows from Bucky easily and with purpose and honesty. He knows how stressed Steve has been over the past few weeks and he knows that stress will only compress and grow as they get closer and closer to election day. This is the main reason Bucky chose this time to follow through with his plan. 

Steve sighs heavily once Bucky has spoken, a tiny thrill running through him when Steve immediately takes a drink from his glass. He could get addicted to this. 

“I do know this. There’s just both some uncertainty and some big changes that this election could bring. Some pretty important states have been putting in the work. It could be big. Texas with a Democratic governor? Can you imagine?” 

Bucky hums, plating up the roast, potatoes, and carrots rather artfully on two of Steve’s dinner plates. He doesn’t have enough time in the world nor the focus at the current moment to dwell on and analyze the reasoning behind how easy this interaction feels. There’s no awkwardness, no unpleasant tension. It’s as natural as any other interaction they have when he’s in Steve’s apartment. Except this time, he’s wearing a dress and has spent the day cleaning Steve’s apartment and not eating greasy pizza in his underwear on Steve’s couch. 

“Honestly, no. But there’s hope with Beto. His campaign is one that should be studied and used as an example for all future candidates, governor or not.” 

He gracefully makes his way to the dining table, two plates in hand, Steve following him curiously and slowly. He had set the table just a few minutes before Steve arrived home from work and Steve seems impressed, a raise of his eyebrows once he sees the lit candles. When Bucky goes to make his way back to the kitchen, Steve stands in his way. He doesn’t move. Bucky knows then that small talk and mindless conversation are over. 

When he tips his chin to look up at Steve, he can almost taste the scotch on the older man’s breath. His dick comes back to life, twitching in his panties. The senator’s eyes dance as he drinks in Bucky’s face, his appearance. Bucky goes almost cross-eyed when a hand casually rises to cup the side of Bucky’s neck, Steve stepping forward, closing what is left of the gap between them. 

“You tryin’ to romance me, sugar?” he inquires softly, voice but a gruff whisper. Bucky wants to kiss him, wants to melt even further into the older man’s dominant embrace, his chest, his body. 

Get it together. 

“You deserve it,” Bucky dutifully responds with, almost positive Steve can feel his erection against his body. Steve’s own is dizzyingly heavy against Bucky’s belly. He immediately wishes the plug buried between his cheeks were replaced with that cock. He forces himself to reel in his kiss, placing a dreadfully chaste one on the senator’s lips before slipping around him and into the kitchen. 

“Go ahead and sit down. Everything is ready.” 

Bucky isn’t sure how he’ll make it through dinner. Especially with the other plans he has in mind; he won’t survive those . 

When he turns back to the table, Steve has seated himself and made himself comfortable, having taken off his suit jacket and placed it on the back of his chair. Bucky suppresses the urge to moan when Steve takes the time to unbutton his cuffs and rolls the sleeves of his dress shirt up his forearms. He could get off to that and that alone on repeat, he swears. 

Bucky reaches behind himself and unties his apron, also drapes that across the back of his chair. Bucky can only describe the look Steve gives him as predatory. It devours him, feels like a physical touch that has his breath hitching in his chest. 

Fucking hell. 

“Is that a new dress?” 

The question feels as if Steve’s stroking him off. 

Bucky nods his head as he takes a seat in his chair. 

“It is, I was…was hoping you’d notice. Do you like it?” 

The last part slips out of Bucky’s mouth before he can contain it. He shouldn’t have to desperately seek out Steve’s approval, no matter how flustered he may be. The senator would reprimand him for this line of thinking, for Bucky not communicating with him, but…he’s working on it. 

He regrets his question up to the point where Steve reaches beneath the table and openly adjusts his erection. 

“I think you look fucking divine.” 

“Oh.” 

Bucky is sure his blush creeps down his neck. 

“I think that if you didn’t work so hard on this dinner, I’d toss you on this table and eat you for supper.” 

“Steve.” 

“Honey, my dick is so—” 

“Steven,” Bucky damn near begs, overwhelmed by the senator’s words and the plug he’s wearing and his dick wrapped in satin. “This is not appropriate dinner talk. Watch your mouth. Please .” 

He thinks it’s what a housewife would say. Surely a housewife wouldn’t let her husband talk about fucking her at dinner. And that’s what Bucky is tonight, a housewife. He’s playing a role tonight. 

He takes a deep breath before continuing, grounding himself by placing his palms flat on the table. After a few seconds he looks up and over at the senator to find him already devouring him, his eyes roving over Bucky’s nearly nude chest. His nipples harden in an instant, pebbling up at the attention. It is more than distracting. 

Without another word yet still communicating his desires by eye fucking Bucky into oblivion, Steve picks up his fork and knife and digs in. 

Thank God. 

Bucky shouldn’t be startled by the moan Steve lets out, but he is. It’s dripping in eroticism, it’s guttural, it’s pleasure. It’s food, he has to remind himself as he watches Steve savor his bite on his tongue. Bucky shoves his own bite into his mouth, first one and then another, just so he has something to do with his mouth other than beg for the senator’s cock. 

“Buck, honey,” Steve moans, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them to work another bite onto his fork. “This is incredible. You made this?” 

The pleasure brought on by the senator’s compliments is unmatched. Bucky feels as if time slows, as if his head fills with wisp after wisp of cotton candy sweetness. He’s finding it infinitely more difficult to stay focused, but he nods his head. 

“Mhmm,” he murmurs, swallowing his own bite before reaching for his wine glass. “Started it this morning.” 

Bucky doesn’t miss the twinkle in Steve’s eye at the subtle confirmation that Bucky has indeed been in the senator’s apartment all damn day. He knows it, Bucky sees this, but he blessedly plays along, Bucky’s dick hard for this roleplay and this banter. 

“How have you spent your day, sweetheart? What’d you do while Daddy was away at work?” 

Bucky barely manages to swallow his bite of carrots. 

“Umm, I…well, I did the laundry and steamed your shirts, made the bed. I vacuumed and tidied up around the house. I went to the store and got the things I needed for dinner and dessert. I—” 

“Bucky.” 

Bucky immediately feels like he’s done something wrong. 

“Y-yes?” 

“If you tell me you made red velvet cake for dessert I’ll—” 

“Of course I made red velvet cake for dessert.” 

“— marry you right here.” 

Bucky’s cheeks burn bright red as he looks down at his plate to push a few pieces of potatoes around. He snatches up the opportunity to solidify what it is they’re doing here, what Bucky hopes Steve is understanding in full. 

“Don’t be ridiculous— we’re already married.” 

When his eyes meet Steve’s, he’s almost certain he’s going to reach across the table and snatch Bucky up to sit him on his cock. There have been few times in their relationship where Steve has looked so furiously hungry, where Bucky can see his purely sexual thoughts written all over his features. His eyes burn like fire, his breathing is damn near ragged. His neck is even flushed. 

Bucky needs to add Steve’s reaction to him saying they’re married to the list of things to analyze later. 

They share a heady look with one other, the two of them visibly trembling with their need to break character but to also keep moving forward with the hottest thing they’ve ever embarked on together. Steve is the first to break the tense silence. 

“You spent all day taking care of me? Taking care of our home?” 

Bucky mindlessly takes another bite of the roast on his plate. It melts on his tongue. He did do a good job. 

“Of course I did; that’s what I’m supposed to do. You work hard every day and deserve to have everything you want at home. You deserve to be taken care of, Daddy.” 

A noise deep in Steve’s chest reaches Bucky’s ears at the same time Steve’s fork lands loudly on his plate. 

“Bucky. Fuck, I need—” 

He reaches forward, grasping up Bucky’s chin and pulling. His own fork lands as loudly as Steve’s did on his plate. He tries hard to shake his jaw free of the senator’s grip. Hell will freeze over before he doesn’t follow through with every aspect of his roleplay, no matter how desperate he is, no matter how thick with arousal his brain is. 

“No! Steve, no. Not at dinner, not here. This wasn’t…this wasn’t the plan.” 

“Fuck this plan, Bucky. You’re killin’ me, baby. Just—” Steve tries, voice rough as he litters Bucky’s cheeks, his jaw, with wet kisses. Bucky whines. 

“Steve, no.” 

It’s more the word no than his tone that does it, his whine morphing into something stern, strong enough to force the senator to pull his head back with a groan. His temple presses against Bucky’s own. His chest heaves as he collects himself. One more part of this roleplay is important to Bucky, one more part. He needs to follow through with it and he needs to make it quick. The senator doesn’t wait for anyone and Bucky knows he’s used his one chance to reel him back in. 

Steve pulls his head back to run his nose along Bucky’s hairline, the move making Bucky feel like prey, yet somehow intensely comforting. He waits a moment before speaking again.  

“You’re showin’ me so much fuckin’ skin, Buck.” 

“I know, it’s…it’s a lot.” 

A hand curls around Bucky’s knee under the table, fingers toying with the hem of his dress and the lacy top of his stocking. 

“No— it’s perfect.” 

He presses a kiss to Bucky’s cheek before he can respond, clearing his throat and adjusting himself. Bucky attempts to pull himself together as well, crossing his legs and reaching for his wine glass before taking a sip and reaching for his fork. His hand still shakes but there’s nothing he can do about that, he’s decided. He clenches desperately around his plug, a shiver running up his spine in impatient anticipation.

“So you spent your day tidying up, doing some chores?” Steve asks, making a valiant attempt at trying to steer the two of them back towards the direction that Bucky has requested. 

“Mhmm, but that’s boring. Tell me more about your day. What’s been on your plate lately? It’s such an exciting time.” 

Steve does just that, sharing with him his back-to-back meetings and appearances. Of course Bucky is aware of most of the things that fill the senator’s days, Bucky himself being a part of some of these meetings and events. But it’s been so long since the two of them have actually sat down to talk about their day. They don’t tend to do that, Bucky reminds himself. Bucky finds out what Steve’s up to outside of meetings he’s a part of through trying to figure out when to squeeze in a quickie. 

So, it’s nice to hear Steve discuss what he’s involved with, what’s on his mind and how he is feeling. It’s wildly domestic and Bucky’s dick doesn’t soften in the slightest. 

Bucky has a lot to think about once this night comes to a close. 

When Steve is done sharing, they fall into an easy silence. They’ve taken their time eating their meal, sipping on their drinks. It’s easy and blissful and Bucky is relaxed…until he realizes this is the perfect and silent opportunity to move onto the last part of his surprise and to finally get Steve’s hands on his body. 

His heart kicks up into his chest. 

With one last sip of his red wine and placing his fork on his empty plate, he clears his throat. 

“So, I’ve been thinking, honey” he starts, his elbows falling to the table, his fingertips grazing his collarbones. His voice is gentle, but there’s an obvious tremor to it, one that isn’t lost on Steve. Somewhere deep, Bucky digs up confidence, pulls forth a coquettish demeanor. Steve’s tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip as he finishes his last bite, mirroring Bucky’s body language and leaning forward onto the table as well. 

Fuck, it’s risky. This is the most daring part of his planned roleplay. Is this something the senator will enjoy? He finds it difficult to find his voice as Steve’s eyes rove over his chest once more, as if Bucky has tits . It’s so brazen it makes his dick twitch.

“You were thinkin’ about what, sugar?” Steve pushes after Bucky doesn’t finish his sentence right away.

Bucky audibly swallows.

“I stopped taking my pills,” Bucky whispers, throwing caution to the wind. “I’m ready to try for a baby. I think it’s the perfect time to and I know I—” 

The response is immediate.

Strong and hungry hands reach across the table for his nape, his waist, as he’s hauled from his chair and onto the top of thick thighs, directly into Steve’s lap. He doesn’t have time to appreciate the strength it takes to be so smooth with a move like this, let alone have time to gasp. Lips are on his in an instant, insistent and hot, tongue delving between his parted lips and stroking along his own. 

It’s the kiss he was hoping for, the kiss he’s been denying himself all night. 

It’s delicious . 

“You…you wanna fuckin’ run that by me again?” Steve all but growls into his kisses, doesn’t even bother pulling his mouth away from Bucky’s. He whimpers pathetically when Steve dives for his neck. 

“I…I want your baby,” Bucky stupidly whines, but Steve’s groan sounds like thunder when he digs his teeth into Bucky’s adam’s apple. “Want to start a family, wanna… want you to get me pregnant, Daddy.”  

He’s on his back in the next instant. Dishes clatter to the floor, the time and effort he put into setting the table gone within seconds. He’s sure he hears something break, more than one somethings, but his pout of, “Steve, the dinner…!” is met with a harsh, “Fuck the dinner,” just before his dress is hiked up around his waist with a yank. 

“The dress isn’t mine, don’t—!” 

“I’ll buy another fucking dress, Bucky, goddamnit .” 

The sensation of Steve between his legs, narrow, fit waist between his thighs, leaves Bucky no choice but to moan. It’s a gluttonous noise, a built up one that is the culmination of jerk off session after jerk off session imagining what this moment would feel like. His thoughts don’t compare in the slightest, the feeling of Steve’s cock rocking against his own behind the silk of his panties forcing him to give into the urge to tremble. 

He feels the frenzied moment that Steve realizes he isn’t wearing his normal undergarments, that he’s prepared for this housewife role thoroughly. 

“You motherfucker, you…oh my god, Bucky.” 

“Daddy…”

“Fuck yeah, that’s right,” Steve purrs from above him, fingers digging greedily into the meat of his hips, eyes blazing where his gaze rests between his thighs. “Really am your Daddy now, ain’t I? You gonna make me a Daddy, sugar? You gonna gimme a baby?” 

Oh. 

“Oh fuck.” 

This wasn’t part of the plan. Not once did he consider Steve returning his dirty talk, of what Bucky’s roleplay would sound like coming from Steve’s point of view. He failed to think about how it would sound if Steve responded to the things he had decided to say. He is such a fucking idiot. 

He is a fucking idiot that is going to come if Steve keeps massaging his body in such a deep and appreciative way. 

The senator chuckles, hands greedy as they work their way around Bucky’s body. He rubs the heel of his hand up and along Bucky’s dick, squeezes his fingers around it with another rumble. Bucky’s eyes nearly cross. 

“You’ve been in my house all goddamn day,” Steve mumbles distractedly, hotly. “Cleanin’ and cookin’ and bein’ the prettiest fuckin’ housewife a Daddy could ask for.” His fingers find their way to Bucky’s nipples as he talks, the tips of them pinching and pulling at them over the material of his borrowed dress. Bucky hisses between his teeth, his dick throbbing and his ass clenching around the heavy plug he wears. He should have done this months ago; he’s in heaven . 

“And now my tight little wife tells me she’s been keepin’ secrets? Been tryin’ to get knocked up without Daddy even knowin’?”

“Steve, I can’t…I can’t do—” 

“What a naughty fuckin’ girl I got.” 

Bucky is in way over his head. His fantasy never went this far, always ended with what he thought would be the most anticipated moment, the reveal. He hadn’t thought beyond that point. If he had, he may have not followed through. They’ve never dabbled in any of these kinks, in breeding, in roleplay. Surely he won’t survive an hour, let alone the entire night. 

“Show me that fuckin’ pussy. Show me that pussy that Daddy’s about to ride until he breeds, just like you’re askin’ for.” 

He won’t survive the next five minutes. 

He barely has time for his brain to catch up on what he’s feeling, what he’s hearing, his limbs weak from an onslaught of arousal. The senator reaches for the top of one stocking but stops, apparently deciding to keep them on, which is heady. The underwear encasing his dick is yanked down his thighs then, impatiently left hanging from one ankle before the senator is shoving his legs apart, the wide spread making Bucky feel like a slut. 

He feels the plug buried between the cheeks of his ass. He’s been feeling it all night, all day. 

He feels it but he doesn’t register that Steve will see it. 

Goddamn, has he gone dumb in the head. 

“Oh my fucking god, are you…”

The senator can’t even finish his sentence, his thoughts, something Bucky would surely marvel at if he were in a more stable headspace. But all he can do is whine, huff and run his hands down his chest to his dick where he squeezes at himself. Steve lets him, watches as Bucky touches himself, the senator’s fingers pushing at the base of the plug, rubbing at his stretched and puffy rim. 

“Look how ready you are for Daddy, baby,” Steve recovers swiftly, voice deceivingly sweet as he pulls at the plug slowly, letting the widest part stretch Bucky to the point where his toes curl. He stops touching himself immediately, throws his hands wide on either side of him as he attempts to find anything to ground himself. There’s nothing. He soars. 

“Pussy’s ready to make me a Daddy, ready to take every load I can pump into it. Look at that…” 

Bucky’s whine gets louder, longer. He keeps his thighs spread wide, lets Daddy play with him, slipping the plug halfway out of his ass before letting his hole eat it up again. He’s getting fucked by that plug, and while it feels like everything he’s been wanting for all damn day, he knows the senator’s cock will feel infinitely better. 

“Gimme a baby, Daddy. Fuck it into me so…so deep, ngh,” he whimpers, face turning crimson as his own words hit his ears. What is he saying? 

Steve growls, growls, as he reaches for his belt, undoing it swiftly and impressively with one hand. “Hell yeah, gonna knock you up so good, ain’t I?” 

Bucky’s response is simply a wail, a pitiful noise that grows messily frantic when his eyes are blessed by the sight of the senator’s cock. It looks so heavy, so meaty and girthy. Bucky wants it inside of him now , wants it to hurt so good. He wants to be bred by that cock, wants to come on it. He feels mindless, lit up from the inside out, needy and achy. He finds himself nodding his head, in response to the senator’s question, in response to all future questions, all without thought and newfound, dumb enthusiasm. 

“Mhmm, so good, so good. No pills, no…no protection— wann’it raw, Daddy. Give it to me raw.” 

Bucky doesn’t know what he’s turned into, what this roleplay has done to him. 

Steve’s groan meshes deliciously with his chuckle, dexterous fingers pulling the plug free from the grip of Bucky’s ass, tossing it carelessly to the floor. 

“Dirty fuckin’ bitch, of course I’m gonna give it to you raw. From here on out it’s only raw. From this moment on you’re always gonna be heavy with my kid. You think there’s any goin’ back after this? Fuck no, you’re gonna make me a daddy over and over and over and—” 

The stretch the plug provided him with, that he worked towards all day, feels as if it does very little to prepare him for the size of the senator’s cock. He should have known to size up over the course of the day, that he should have chosen a larger plug if he was going to use just one. 

“Hold your legs, press ‘em— yeah, there you go. Get your pretty little body in that baby makin’ position,” Steve guides him roughly, pressing Bucky’s thighs to his chest, big hand pressing against his belly. “Gotta watch this pussy get bred up, as a Daddy I gotta make sure’m doin’ my job.” 

Bucky feels lightheaded as he wraps his arms around the back of his knees, his vision turning blurry around the edge when it gives him the perfect view of his neglected and rock solid dick, of the senator fucking into him, still donning most of his work clothes. What a picture he must make: Bucky’s dress hiked around his middle, lithe legs still clad in stockings, back pressed against the dining room table as their forgotten dinner is scattered around him, damn near gagging for a United States Senator’s cock.

It’s indecent, scandalous. 

He feels so fucking hot, so desireable, even though he feels entirely gone in the head. 

“Pussy’s soakin’ already. How long have you been thinkin’ about this? Huh?” 

“So fucking long,” Bucky whines raggedly, the senator taking his time sliding inside of him, of course making a show of it. 

“Yeah, bet’chu have,” Steve chides, fingers splaying wide against Bucky’s belly as he sinks further into Bucky’s willing ass, other set of fingers rubbing at Bucky’s rim, smearing spit he just pursed his lips and sent down. “Let Daddy in, lil’ mama. C’mon, let Daddy have it.” 

No, he’s going to come. He’s going to come. Steve is barely bottoming out and Bucky is going to come because of the astronomical build-up of this moment and because of the senator’s filthy fucking mouth. And because of how stretched he is, how no part of his pussy is untouched, the senator squeezing himself inside of Bucky so perfectly, oh god. 

The stir in his core, in his balls, has no time to build; it spirals and bursts within seconds.

“Coming, m’gonna—! I’m coming, oh god I’m—” 

“Jesus Christ, Bucky. Already?! Fuck.” 

Steve doesn’t even let him lay there and take it. He curls his hands around Bucky’s middle and ruts into him with newfound energy and fuck, it makes Bucky shout through his teeth, makes him whine just like being fucked through an orgasm always does. He can’t even touch himself given his position and the jolts of his body from Steve’s punishing thrusts, and he’s forced to just take it , wave after wave of pleasure knocking against his limbs and his insides. 

In half a minute he’s messy with his own come and left sucking in air like he was being chased. 

And Steve doesn’t stop. 

“Steve …Daddy…!” 

Steve rumbles, eyes locked onto Bucky’s belly, his messy dress, as he fucks him, on the rivulets of come left behind from his explosive climax. “Squirtin’ all over Daddy’s dick, just like you should. Atta girl. They say that helps with… fuck, with makin’ a baby— you comin’. How many times can Daddy make you come tonight?” 

“Oh fuck…fuck you, I…oh my god…” 

Bucky can never recover appropriately from an orgasm he’s been fucked through. It’s like Steve fucks his mind too, his brain, when he does this, fucks it so roughly he’s left loose-limbed and exposed. He feels raw, feels like he’s right there on the edge of too much, too much. The recognition that he is going to need some major aftercare tonight is his last thought before one, two, three long, deep strokes perfectly rubbing against his sweet spot have his eyes rolling back into his head. 

“Yeah, baby. Tonight’s the night, ya know that? Daddy’s gonna knock you up on the first try, first try. This belly’ll be all sorts of swollen, won’t it?” 

A shock rips through Bucky’s  system upon hearing those words, one that sparks an impossible fire in his dick, in his groin, in his chest. He whines at the force of it, at what hearing those words does to him without any sort of hesitation. Of course the senator notices. 

“Oh yeah, sugar— gonna be heavy as fuck with my kid. This belly—” Steve bunches up the come-covered dress as he talks, as he uses it to fuck into him.“—it’s mine, just like this pussy is.” 

Steve reams into him steadily, his cock digging into his sweet spot repeatedly. It’s impossible, is ridiculous, the way he makes Bucky’s body feel lit up from the inside out even after such a shattering orgasm moments before. No one else does this to him, no one will ever do this to him, not when his Daddy makes him feel so thoroughly fucked out. The images flashing in his mind are pure fantasy, ones that Steve masterfully and filthily paints, yet Bucky feels as if they’re real, as if his belly can grow big, as if he can get pregnant. 

And god help him, he likes it. 

He gasps for air, his body going weak alongside his mind. He loses his grip on his legs, elbows slipping along the soft material of the stockings with slick sweat, neck arched weakly against the dining room table. Steve takes over for him immediately, smacks at his hands and presses Bucky back, bending him further in half, taking a brief moment to tug Bucky close towards the end of the table. It makes the senator’s cock feel ten times larger, makes Bucky squeal, makes his noises grate against the front of his throat as Steve fucks them out of him. 

“These tits?” Steve growls, digging his hips into the underside of Bucky’s ass, grinding in tight with each trust. “Fuck, these tits, baby, they’re gonna be so big. And Daddy loves big tits."

Bucky hiccups. “Daddy…they’re not… not—” 

“Oh, they’re tits, Buck. They’re gonna be swollen and round too, gonna have Daddy’s mouth all over ‘em. Got no choice but to suck on ‘em every time I goddamn see ‘em.” 

As if he needs to prove his point any further, Steve bends at the waist and joins Bucky on the table smoothly, dishes clattering to the floor. His thighs are left spread wide around the senator’s thick middle, a sensation Bucky will surely never tire of. The way Steve fucks him feels damn near feral this way, god, it’s close and tight and the older man’s breaths sound like they are being punched out of him with every brutal thrust. It finally sounds as if this sex, this wild roleplay that Bucky spent months planning, is finally getting to Steve. 

And that makes a second climax feel within reach.

Bucky barely has time to squeal before the senator is yanking at the already low neckline of his dress and his mouth is on his nipples, his tits, sucking hungrily at his pecs, cock heavy in his ass. He can feel the senator’s balls in this position, can feel his heavy sac smack against his ass and it makes him feel dizzy with dick.  

Steve holds onto his tits, one in each hand, squeezes at them as if they are indeed heavy and swollen and purrs.

Bucky can’t breathe. 

“Mhmm, get used to this, sugar. Get used to Daddy’s mouth on these pretty tits,” Steve mumbles, tugging one pebbled nub between his teeth and sucking. Bucky’s dick jumps, genuinely jumps where it’s trapped against their torsos, and his moan is ragged and worn out, exhausted. Bucky can’t believe he’s going to come again and his mournful noises reflect that sentiment. 

As soon as Steve hears his sob, his purr turns into a groan.

“Already comin’ again, Buck?” Steve asks, panting against his mouth, hands finding a home as both of them wrap loosely around his throat. When Bucky can’t formulate an answer, when all he can do is hiccup and tug at the parts of the senator’s dress shirt that he can reach, Steve nips at his bottom lip. “‘Course you are; you’re gaggin’ for this Daddy come.” 

He is. He’s mindless and boneless and laying there taking the senator’s cock like it’s his job, like he’s getting paid to get fucked so willingly. He isn’t, he reminds himself, head bouncing with every thrust Steve rocks into him without mercy. Bucky really does feel like a slut. He smiles. 

“The first one was for you,” Steve whispers against the curve of his mouth, his sweat dripping onto Bucky’s neck.. “This one's for me. Ask me for it, ask Daddy to come in this pussy. Ask Daddy for that baby you want so fuckin’ bad.” 

Bucky doesn’t even hesitate. In fact, he lets out a growl of his own, albeit a pathetic, pup of a noise. If a second orgasm is being forced out of him, he’s going to earn it. And if he’s so lucky enough to have a surprise roleplay work out this well, he’s gonna send it home. 

“Put that fuckin’ baby in me, Daddy,” is what he ends up biting out, spreading his legs wide and lifting his head to meet Steve’s eyes. His tongue darts out, lapping at the senator’s plump bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth. The older man’s groans sound almost pained when Bucky leans into the hold around his throat. He knows exactly how to get what he wants.

He sticks out his bottom lip, whimpers.

“Want that Daddy come. Please Daddy, please— can I have your baby? Will you give me that baby? Daddy…” 

Steve’s groan sounds more like a roar when his fingers tighten, when Bucky feels his breathing hitch, feels the shallowness of his breaths. Bucky feels like a doll, limp and useless as Daddy uses his grip to fuck Bucky on his cock, thrusts going sloppy. 

“Practicin’ that fuckin’ baby talk already, fuckin’ hell. Take it, Buck— take that Daddy come and make that baby.” 

He’s gasping, all sensation narrowed down to the big hands around his neck and the fat cock in his ass, and when he hears and feels the senator begin to moan raggedly into his cheek, when he grinds in deep, Bucky soars. 

He’s pure sensation. His ears ring, his vision blurs, his limbs tremble. He milks Steve for everything he’s worth and that’s all that matters to him, is what pushed him over the edge and into another orgasm, a much more intense one. Steve is in his ear, against his lips, whispering filthy thought after filthy thought as he drops his load in Bucky’s worn out pussy. He sucks breath after breath into his lungs and by the time he’s done spurting between their bodies, on this poor dress, his thighs drop like stones onto the table beneath him, his arms doing the same. 

It takes more than a few minutes for this feeling of pure sensation to give way to the present, for the fog to clear long enough to feel the kisses that the senator presses against his chin, his lips. 

Bucky doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this before. The closest he’s ever come to this was the first time Steve fucked him on the desk in his office. 

“I’m… holy shit, I can’t…m’gonna need…” Bucky hears himself mumble mindlessly, giggling when it sounds ridiculous to his ears. His brain feels like it’s full of air, weightless and empty. Steve joins Bucky in chuckling, hands squeezing all over his body: his shoulders, his neck, his chest. 

“You’re gonna need a lot of things, Buck,” Steve mumbles, pressing a set of chaste kisses against his lips before sighing and settling his feet back onto the floor. He’s still quite hard within Bucky, cock rigid, and for a moment he wonders if Steve wants to go another round. 

Having almost passed out after two rounds, he surely wouldn’t survive a third. He thinks he’d take that risk. 

“We’ll take a bath,” Steve tells him, hands running up Bucky’s sides to pull down his dress. “Let me go grab a fat piece of that cake you made and you can feed it to me in the tub.” 

Bucky scoffs.

“Oh, excellent. As if I haven’t done enough for you today already.” 

Steve gives him a light smack on the cheek for his attitude. Bucky bites his lip. 

“No, don’t move,” Steve tells him in a hushed voice as he slips from Bucky’s body and steps back. “I’ll carry you.” 

“Oh…okay.” 

The senator doesn’t bother tucking himself back into his pants and Bucky doesn’t know why he feels himself blush, not after tonight.

“Plus,” Steve starts, voice dipping into dangerous territory as he saunters towards the kitchen. “Gotta keep those hips up, gotta keep you on your back. Better chance for makin’ that baby…”

[maddiewritesstucky]

Kiss The Quarterback — Part One

When star quarterback Steve and his right-hand man Bucky lead their team to a National Championship, Senator Rogers takes it upon himself to invite the two young athletes to meet with him in person to celebrate their victory.

But the Senator has more than a congratulatory handshake in mind, and what transpires behind the closed door of the Senator’s office is beyond any reward the boys could ever have expected...

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 3.6k

Tags: gang bang adjacent, oral sex, blow jobs, dirty talk, humiliation (verbal and physical), degradation, voyeurism, authority kink, daddy kink, power dynamics, dom/sub relationship, orgasm control, free use, hand job, light subspace, edging, enthusiastic consent

A/N: Originally written as a birthday gift for our girl @rainbowsandcoconut, Sister K @howdoyousleep3​ and I are so excited to finally share our first ever collaboration! This fic is POV switching, between Jock Steve and Intern Bucky. The scandal is only just beginning — Part 2 coming soon.

Find more of K’s Senator here, and my Jocks here.

“I’m gonna flirt with him.” 

“Bucky, no.”

“I am, I’m gonna do it.”

“You are not gonna flirt with the state fucking Senator, Bucky. Don’t blow this for us.”

“Oh, I’ll blow something,” Bucky laughs, reaching to tug at the collar of Steve’s dress shirt. “You fuckin’ seen Senator Rogers? Guy looks like he could bench press you.”

Steve bats Bucky’s hands away, and turns to survey his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window; nervously brushing at his suit. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that? Fuckin’ knew I should’ve brought Wilson instead.” 

“Jesus, Steve, would you relax? This is a privilege, remember?” Bucky says, dripping sarcasm as he parrots their coach’s words from earlier. “You brought home the championship, and now you get to shake the Senator’s hand, can you believe?” 

“Oh my god, would you shut—”

“Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes?” A woman with dark-rimmed glasses and a clipboard raps on the doorframe of the small waiting room, gesturing for them to follow her out into the hall. “The Senator is ready for you now. This way, please.” 

The way Bucky grins when Steve looks his way does absolutely nothing to quell Steve’s anxiety.

“Showtime…”

“You just sit there and look pretty for our guests. You think you can do that for me?” 

The Senator’s breath blows hot and damp across Bucky’s jaw, the drag of Steve’s teeth making him squirm in his chair. A small kiss to his chin is soothing but he wants one on his lips, huffs for it, fingers digging into the front of Steve’s suit jacket. 

“Yes, Daddy,” he replies, easy like a hot knife through butter. He gets a kiss on his cheek for his troubles, but he’s needy, wants a proper kiss, right on his lips. 

“You ever see these guys before? These college jocks?” Steve asks him with a grip of his chin, and Bucky shakes his head in response. 

“I think you’re in for a treat, sweetheart. How hospitable are you feelin’ tonight?” he asks and what...what does that mean? Bucky’s eyebrows knit together in confusion until Steve clarifies.

“Should I offer up my slutty intern to these boys? Give them my own little present for winning the National Championship?” 

Oh.

Bucky’s body clenches up immediately, neck going weak but the Senator holding his chin taut. This time he is given a kiss to his parted lips, one laced with the ghost of a smirk, one that drinks his whine right off of his mouth. It’s hypothetical, fantasy, an inquiry meant to make Bucky wiggle in his seat, but it makes Bucky achy. 

His Daddy offering him up to someone else? The chance to make the Senator proud? Bucky is more than okay with that.

He purses his lips into the chaste kisses Steve gives him, but now he’s hungry, now he wants more, asks for it with a pull on Steve’s suit. The Senator bats Bucky’s hands away as he stands. 

“Maybe Daddy’ll give you a little treat before you head home tonight if you’re good for me.” 

Bucky has no chance to respond to Steve’s offer, swallowing down yet another disgusting whine instead of letting the older man hear it. Steve turns towards the sharp knock at the door, Bucky standing on wobbly legs and following suit. 

“Gentlemen! I hear congrats are in order…” 

Bucky almost falls right back down into his chair.

“Senator Rogers, thank you so much for inviting us to meet with you.” 

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine. I’ve been watching you boys from the beginning of the season and now you’re here? C’mon, I had to congratulate you in person.” 

Bucky is almost certain he’s walked into a wet dream. Chiseled jawlines, summer sky eyes, muscle and strength as far as the eye can see— these athletes have most definitely starred in some of Bucky’s recurring fantasies. Bucky is so taken aback that he barely makes out the Senator’s words as the blond, first through the door, turns to Bucky. 

“This is one of my interns, James,” The Senator offers, and Bucky is nodding his head like he’s got a jar of marbles for a brain, reaching for the extended hand in front of him. The blond beefcake flashes Bucky a dazzling smile that has butterflies swooping down and all throughout Bucky’s belly and he introduces himself with a confident and kind, “Steve. It’s nice to meet you, James.” 

Bucky barely has time to give proper attention to how warm Steve’s hands are, that grip, before Steve is moving to the side and—

Bucky almost bends to pick his jaw up off the floor. 

“How’s it goin’?”

A second grip and handshake Bucky wants to hold tightly to, this time accompanied by a smirk that surely drops panties on the regular. There’s strength behind this handshake as well, an edge of cockiness that Bucky could grow addicted to. Dark hair pulled back, unassuming strength, the plushest mouth Bucky has ever set eyes on, and the axis of Bucky’s world has tilted. 

The Senator, Bucky’s own Daddy, momentarily slips from the forefront of his mind until the older man is guiding, offering up a, “Sit, sit, please,” as he gestures to the sitting area. The notepad that Bucky has been clutching against his chest almost needs to be adjusted to cover his crotch, but he’s afraid that if he moves it whatsoever, his hands will wander to the endless amounts of tightly-packed muscle spread out in front of him. 

He manages to find his seat in the chair next to the Senator’s, coffee table between their pair of chairs and the leather couch the two athletes seat themselves at. When he looks up and over at the man to his left, the man who just kissed him breathless before inviting these jocks into his office, the Senator is already looking over at him. 

Bucky wrings his hands when the state rep gives him a knowing look and a wink. 

“When I invited the Quarterback I wasn’t sure who you’d bring, but I should have known it would have been your right hand man. You two make quite the duo out there on the field, don’t you?”

Bucky has never really been a fan of sports. He goes to games, enjoys the atmosphere, but won’t seek it out on his own. He doesn’t understand but a handful of details about sports as a whole, and he feels himself begin to detach from the conversation playing out in front of him. All he knows are the things that have been mentioned in passing: these two men are on the football team that won the National Championship, one is the Quarterback, and they’re here on Capitol Hill in order to meet with the President, which they had done earlier that day. 

He’s sure he would have paid more attention to sports over the past few years if any of the athletes had looked like this. 

Steve looks like he could carry Bucky around on his hip with one arm, has the biceps to show it, the shoulder span no doubt proof of that as well. Bucky feels like he might begin to sweat under the collar of his shirt when his eyes lock with that plump bottom lip. 

He wants to sit on that bottom lip. 

He blushes furiously, knows his cheeks have to be opaque and obvious. Damn the Senator for planting the seed of fantasy in his brain with a kiss seconds before inviting these men into his office. How is Bucky supposed to have any thoughts that aren’t laced with sex? 

When he diverts his eyes away from Steve in hopes of reeling himself in, he’s met with a smirk on a mouth that might be more sinful than the Quarterback’s. First his lips, the suggestive smirk, then the eyes and Bucky has never felt so caught in his life. 

The dark-haired Wide Receiver is just as startlingly handsome as Steve is, within that sphere of beauty that has Bucky’s pants growing tighter by the second, yet somehow different. Steve almost looks like someone Bucky wants to rough up, a pretty face, eyes that Bucky wants to see messy with tears. He wants to rock himself in Steve’s lap and possibly make him beg. But this other guy? 

Bucky wants this hunk to shove him face-down into the mattress and make him squeal.

The added raise of an eyebrow has him suddenly and desperately thinking of a valid enough excuse to leave the room to get his shit in check. There is business to conduct, pleasantries to be had, and Bucky can’t sit here fantasizing about the plethora of ways he can manage to take both of the athletes on this couch. 

He’s so in his head he hasn’t realized the silence surrounding them all and...it isn’t a pleasant silence. What had Bucky missed? He glances over at the Senator and wishes he had more time to divert the conversation elsewhere, to see if that familiar sneer can be muffled by pointless small talk. 

But nothing could prepare Bucky for Senator Rogers to open his mouth and say, without reservation, “So, Steve, you play this good ‘cause he’s suckin’ your dick, or is he suckin’ it ‘cause you keep on winning shit?”

Steve’s distantly aware of Bucky barking a laugh that rings way too loud in the confines of the office, but he can’t compute anything beyond the words that have just left the Senator’s mouth. 

Only moments ago, they were talking about the rigors of training schedules and pre-season diets, and now suddenly the Senator is hitting Steve with the one question he’s been living in mortal fear of ever since he and Bucky started their...whatever it is they’re doing. 

Steve doesn’t even know whether it’s a genuine question or just a joke, and he’s sure it’s written all over his face that he has absolutely no fucking idea how he’s supposed to respond.

“What, um...what do you…” 

“Oh, come on, kid,” the Senator rocks back in his chair, smirking conspiratorially. “You don’t have to play dumb in here. You might have the rest of your team fooled, but you’re not gonna sit there and tell me it’s all just sportsmanship I’m seein’ between you two.” 

Steve can only stare, mouth agape and any words he might otherwise hope to speak immovably lodged in his throat. He looks over at Bucky, the pleading look of a drowning man, but Bucky’s fucking cackling; throwing his hands up with a resigned shrug.

“He ain’t wrong, pal,” he grins back at Steve. “My mouth is the real secret to your success.”

“Bucky, I really don’t think we shou—” 

“Hey, hey,” the Senator holds up his hands in a placating gesture, “don’t worry, it’s not gonna leave this room.” His gaze flicks over to the young intern seated next to him, and drifts slow down the length of his body, “...We all got our secrets.”

Steve’s stomach flips at the brazenness of the gesture. There’s nothing subtle about the way James shivers under the Senator’s attention; everything about their rapport screaming headline-in-the-making. 

Senator Rogers is doing fuck all to hide it, too, which is making Steve feel hot in ways that have nothing to do with the tight fit of his suit or the unseasonably warm weather.

“Scandal recognizes scandal, don’t it, Senator?” 

Steve’s head whips round at Bucky’s drawled remark. 

Bucky’s sitting there, completely unflinching in the cocky set of his smile, meeting the full force of the Senator’s surprised stare head-on, and Steve doesn’t know whether to apologize on Bucky’s behalf, or just stand up and show himself out.

He chances a look over at the intern, whose rose-flushed cheeks have bloomed a darker shade of crimson; his eyes carefully glued to the notepad clutched in his lap, and his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

It’s a painfully awkward moment. The entire room is silent save for the heavy, rhythmic tick of the grandfather clock inset into the bookcase, and Steve’s screaming internal monologue, which he’s only half certain no one else can hear at this point. 

“Senator Rogers, I…” 

He’s not sure what he plans to say, he just knows he needs to say something before the tension in the room reaches critical point.

But then, inexplicably, the Senator grins.

“It’s alright, Steve,” he sighs. His eyes don’t budge from their deadlock on Bucky, but they narrow a little as he regards him. “I had a mouth on me too, when I was young.”

Steve looks back and forth between the Senator and Bucky, noting the dusting of pink that’s crept onto Bucky’s cheeks. 

He also notes - with great interest - that Bucky is the one who breaks first, dropping his gaze to the coffee table situated between them.

“Mm, that’s what I thought,” the Senator hums. 

He tilts his head, smiling something calculating as he watches Bucky squirm in his seat. He doesn’t let up his stare, even as he speaks to address his intern.

“James, would you go and close the door, please?”

Bucky looks up at that, looks at Steve with a question in his eyes. But Steve is watching the intern, whose face has done something indecipherable at the request. 

“Of course, sir,” James responds immediately. He rises from his seat to head for the door, but he doesn’t make it two steps before Senator Rogers is stopping him with a hand gripped firmly on his arm. 

“Of course, who?” 

James’s breath catches audibly in his throat. He looks at the Senator; looks over at Steve and Bucky, and then back again, his eyes wide. 

Steve doesn’t know exactly what he’s expecting to happen next, what it is the intern said wrong in that exchange, or what the Senator is wanting from him. But he sure as hell isn’t expecting the next words that come out of James’s sinfully pink mouth. 

“...Of course, Daddy.”

Bucky’s whole body tenses at Steve’s side. “Holy shit,” he whispers, leaning in to get at Steve’s ear. “I’m gonna make you call me that.” 

“No you’re fuckin’ not.” 

There’s a part of Steve that’s saying he and Bucky should probably get up and leave right about now. But there’s another, louder part that wants to find out where the hell this is all going, and what the Senator could possibly have in mind that warrants a closed door. 

More to the point, Steve’s pretty damn certain that he wants to be a very active part of whatever Senator Rogers has in mind.

He watches James walk over and push the heavy oak door shut; the click of the latch resounding through the room. It feels like they’re about to be let in on something illicit, sitting there as the intern closes them all into the privacy of the Senator’s office together.

It becomes really fucking clear that that’s exactly what’s about to happen, when James turns to come back to his seat, and Senator Rogers raises a hand to halt him in his tracks; snapping his fingers, and pointing to the floor by his feet.

“Crawl,” he growls.

The intern sinks lithely to his knees with a soft whine; his gaze fixed glassy and wanting on the Senator, and the practiced ease of the movement isn’t lost on Steve. 

James moves like he’s done this a thousand times, shoulders and hips rolling slow as he shifts forward on hands and knees. The implication of it has Steve’s head spinning; has his cock twitching behind his zipper. 

He looks up to find the Senator staring right at him with a knowing smirk.

“He’s something, ain't he?” Senator Rogers cocks his head toward James, now kneeling at his feet. “Fuckin’ nightmare trying to find a good intern these days, I swear.”

“Yeah…I don’t think they cover submission in PoliSci,” Bucky scoffs, though Steve can hear the faint tinge of awe in his voice. 

The Senator must catch it too, because he pins Bucky with a look and slowly extends a hand down towards James, two fingers outstretched.

“Indeed not, Mr. Barnes,” he sighs as James takes his fingers into his mouth, “James is what we call a ‘natural talent.’”

If they were anywhere else, Steve would be screaming. He’d be smacking Bucky on the arm, and pointing wildly across the room, and asking if this entire fucking thing is some unhinged dream.

Because there is no way, no way, that the actual, real life Senator Rogers is sitting across from them, making direct eye contact as his fingers get a suck job from his intern...who is unashamedly making sex noises, and all but rocking his hips down into the floor as he works his mouth around his boss’s digits.

It’s a scene plucked straight out of a porno - one that Steve would save in his bookmarks bar, and create a desktop shortcut to, and have a link pasted into the notes section of his phone, just in case he somehow lost his other access to it. 

It’s all so deeply wrong, and Steve knows that objectively he should be feeling a whole lot of things about what he’s seeing right now...but it’s fucking hot. 

The Senator is hot, and the intern is fifty shades of Steve’s type, and Steve’s never had much of a poker face when it comes to seeing something he likes.

“Think you’ve got a fan, James,” the Senator rumbles. 

He slips his fingers free from between James’ spit-slick lips, hushing him when he whines and gripping him instead by the chin. 

“Lucky for you, Steve,” the Senator begins, “James here was just telling me before you boys came in that he’s feeling particularly generous today. Ain’t that right, sugar?” 

Steve’s pulse rate goes through the roof as the intern nods, flicking his tongue out over his lips.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be real hospitable, aren’t you?” The timbre of Senator Rogers’ voice dips dark as he leans in to speak right up against James’ lips. “Gonna treat our guests nice, make sure everyone’s taken care of…” 

James is nodding vehemently; huffing soft, breathy moans that are going straight to Steve’s dick. 

Bucky’s not faring much better; keyed-up energy coming off him in waves as he sits there with fingernails dug into his thighs and his breaths shuddering slightly on the exhale. 

Steve desperately wants to know what Bucky’s face is doing right now, but he couldn’t look away from this if he tried; his stare fixed on the flush creeping down beneath the intern’s collar as he hangs on the Senator’s every word.

“Give Daddy a kiss,” Senator Rogers commands. 

He sits back just enough to see that James has to work to reach him, but reach him he does; fighting past the Senator’s grip on his chin with a frustrated huff that only makes the older man laugh. 

When their lips meet, the Senator doesn’t so much kiss his intern, as he allows the intern the privilege of kissing him, and it’s clear that James knows where the power lies. He knows, and he’s weak for it; kissing Senator Rogers like he’s trying to prove a point. 

Steve doesn’t even realize he’s tucked a hand between his own thighs to press at the ache in his dick until the Senator pulls back, eyeing Steve pointedly and using his grip on the intern’s chin to turn his face toward Steve.

“Now look at that, I think the Quarterback’s feelin’ a little lonely over there...Go show him how well you keep a lap warm, James.”

Steve’s pulse turns erratic as he watches the intern slowly get to his feet and walk towards him. Senator Rogers is murmuring encouragement aimed at the both of them, telling Steve to relax and prompting James to ‘be a good host’, but Steve still feels like he’s been sprung doing something he shouldn’t when the intern looks at him from under his lashes, and sinks down to sit across his thighs.

“Goddamn,” Bucky breathes, shaking his head. “Tell him he’s pretty, Stevie, I wanna see if he blushes.” 

Steve swallows hard. James feels so slight in his lap, almost dainty in the way he’s perched, and Steve just about has to sit on his hands to stop them migrating to the guy’s waist just to see if they can span around his middle. He is pretty, even more so up close with his cupid’s bow lips and the little dip in his chin, and the vaguely glazed look in his eyes like getting passed around is all he’s ever wanted in life. 

But that doesn’t change the fact that the Senator is watching Steve’s every move with an inscrutable smile, and Steve has no clue where the limits are in this situation.

“He’s, uh...he’s…”

“Oh, your boy’s shy, huh?” the Senator grins at Bucky. “Get a little dumb with something sweet in his lap?” 

Bucky huffs a laugh, kicking a foot out to scuff at Steve’s. “With anything in his lap.”

“Mm, there’s something about these easy boys, ain’t there?” Senator Rogers sighs fondly with a tilt of his head. “How does he like to be kissed?” 

The intern tenses in Steve’s lap, gasping quiet to match Steve’s own. 

Bucky looks at Steve’s mouth as he answers, flippant like Steve’s not right fucking there. “Kissing’s not part of our deal, I only ever did it once. But if I remember right, he almost shot off from having that fat bottom lip sucked.”

Senator Rogers hums an approving sound. He settles back in his seat, turning his attention back to Steve and his lapful of vaguely trembling intern. 

“Go on then, James,” the Senator nods, uncrossing his legs and letting them splay open a little wider as he looks on. “Kiss the quarterback.”

...to be continued

[ao3feed-stevebucky]

Day 11: Housewife Roleplay, Senator Rogers/Intern Bucky

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/OKMytjs

by howdoyousleep

He’s pulling the roast out of the oven with shaky hands when Steve walks into the kitchen. “Hi honey,” Bucky purrs, surprised at his own sultry tone, the false confidence it’s laced with. “I hope you’re hungry.”

Words: 6962, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 8 of Kinktober 2022

Fandoms: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Boss/Employee Relationship, Secret Relationship, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay, Feminization, Age Difference, Size Kink, Daddy Kink, Praise Kink, Manhandling, Anal Plug, Butt Plugs, Sex Toys, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Teasing, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, Rough Sex, Premature Ejaculation, Overstimulation, Dirty Talk, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Light Dom/sub, Breathplay, Name-Calling

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/OKMytjs

[howdoyousleep3]

Rating: Explicit (E) Word Count: ~8K Notable Tags: Established Relationship, Established Friendship, Daddy Kink, Dom/Sub Undertones, Praise Kink, Size Kink, Blowjob, Handjob, Dirty Talk, Light Subspace, A Dash of Aftercare, Manhandling, Kink/Scene Negotiation A/N: A long fucking time coming, this one. 🙃 This was on last year's list and I've teased it since then. Happy Friday, it's done, and I'm happy with it. It would be a dream to join these two in the bedroom and I hope that's conveyed through this fic. Hope you enjoy! 🧡 Read here on Ao3.

“Fuck, sugar. Why didn’t you bring your pretty friend home earlier?”

You barely hear Steve’s words over the ringing in your ears, Bucky’s hand on your jaw the one thing keeping you tethered to the earth. He’s become more comfortable with touching you in such a short amount of time all thanks to Steve’s insistence and guidance. His hand cups your cheek with purpose, and while this is the touch that keeps you present, it's battling with the touch of Bucky’s lips. 

Because Bucky’s lips are about to send you sailing.

You would be an absolute liar if you were to say you’ve never imagined what kissing Bucky would feel like; anyone who sets eyes on that mouth does just that. It’s coy and sensual and he licks his lips in a way that would have no one turning him away if he closed the gap between them. The two of you have been friends since last school year, close since Bucky took up the seat next to you in your Physics lecture, and although your thoughts have been pure for the most part, your mind has most definitely wandered before. 

And then Bucky had introduced you to Steve. 

“Sweetheart,” Steve murmurs in a tone of voice you are coming to realize is reserved for you. A warm hand lands on your shoulder and it’s a casual touch that has you whining with your exhale, into Bucky’s mouth. He returns your noise with one in kind, one that you drink right down. “You can touch too. I’m sure Bucky would like it if you did. Buck?” 

While you’re hesitant to admit your thoughts have veered into not so innocent territory with Bucky, you’ll be the first to admit you’ve had filthy thoughts starring Steve. From the first handshake and hello, your first introduction, Steve hasn’t left your mind. You’ve even cracked jokes with Bucky about his much older and devilishly handsome boyfriend, chides and playful jabs about how much of a walking wet dream he is. 

You could have never imagined, even in your wildest wet dreams, that your friendship with Bucky and your joking could have resulted in you sitting here on their couch, Bucky damn near straddling  your lap, Steve watching from behind Bucky and leading the two of you as you kiss.

You’re immensely grateful for the guidance, but even with it, you are struggling to make the connection between your brain and your body. Everything feels quite discombobulated yet somehow joined together enough to all pulse at the same time. Your lips meld and move against Bucky’s without thought, relying on Bucky for even further guidance, and when he tilts his head to the left, the movement pries your mouth open further. 

“Yeah,” Bucky replies with a whisper, pulling his lips back by the barest of increments in order to respond. You can feel the agreement on your lips, can feel it on Bucky’s lips, and your eyes are slow to open in response to the heavy silence between the three of you that follows. Steve’s hand squeezes your shoulder, arm resting on the back of the couch and around his partner, but your attention is almost entirely on Bucky’s gaze and the way he says your name. 

“I’d...I’d be okay if you touched too,” Bucky whispers and you can’t stop the way you swallow audibly at being told you can touch Bucky this way. As if to show you he is okay with it, his hand on your cheek skirts down to cup your neck, a movement and touch that has you shivering in excitement and anticipation.  

You watch through hazy vision as Steve’s hand on your shoulder moves to cup the front of Bucky’s throat in a move so dominant, so fiercely Alpha, that you almost feel yourself go dizzy. Steve lets out a bit of a purr, leans forward to kiss Bucky’s temple, his cheek, from behind. You can see his grip on Bucky’s throat tighten as well, can see the minuscule twitch of Steve’s fingers. When you look back up at Bucky, when you meet his eyes again, you whimper softly on his behalf. 

“I want...you to touch,” he says and you’re nodding your head with another soft noise as you watch him finish his request.

“W-where do you want me to touch?” you manage to whisper and Steve’s hand reaches for you again, leaves Bucky’s neck and strokes at your cheek with the back of his fingers. It’s gentle yet axis-tilting, the first intimate and different touch Steve has given you this evening. It feels encouraging, as if he’s praising you without words for asking a clarifying question, and you practically feed him your bottom lip when the pad of his thumb runs across it. Steve answers on Bucky’s behalf.

“There isn’t a place that Bucky doesn’t enjoy being touched. Ain’t that right, sugar?” 

Your mouth remains embarrassingly slack as Steve’s hand makes another move, this time to grasp one of your hands where it trembles on your thigh. Steve’s touch, this touch, makes you stifle a gasp, has your body coming to life, catching up, all at once. You throb between your legs and in your core so much it’s almost agonizing. You watch as your hand is lead to Bucky’s shirt, his chest, Steve’s hand firm on your own as he curls your fingers to squeeze at the meat of Bucky’s pec and—

“Oh…” 

“Mhmm, Buck likes bein’ touched all over. Show him, sugar. C’mere…” 

Steve’s hand on yours is replaced by Bucky’s own, brought there by Steve once more, warmth wrapped up in warmth. Bucky holds onto your fingers like he’ll lose you in the riptide of your coupled arousal, pressing your hand into his chest, slips it from one pec to the other, gets selfish with your touch. He’s soft, the heat and tenderness, even through his thin shirt, so incredibly apparent.

“S’okay? This?” he breathes and you hear Steve purse his lips against Bucky’s cheek, seemingly a reward for asking more questions, communicating. His eyes are stormy when you meet them. You feel like you’re falling into them, letting the current carry you away. You’ve trusted him for quite some time now, have built a friendship up from nothing and made it into something you cherish. Even with your nerves, there is comfort, a great sense of it. This is still your Buck. 

“Yeah, Buck,” you confirm, closing the gap between the two of you in a kiss that is meant to be chaste but is wet from the start, Bucky damn near moaning onto your tongue. You think Steve’s added touch, his wandering hands, is to blame, but you’re too focused on Bucky’s tongue shyly tickling your own to confirm your assumptions. You hear Steve’s kisses as they’re planted on Bucky’s cheek, his neck, his shoulder, all while Bucky’s tongue dances along yours.

It’s so much. 

When you pull away from Bucky’s mouth, you do with a gasp, a heave of a noise, but you don’t move far. You can’t. Bucky’s mouth is sin, has already become addictive. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to go back, if you’ll think of Bucky every time you kiss anyone else from here on out. You purse your lips against his once more, chase him, before sitting back further. 

Your eyes are on Steve’s as soon as you pull back. 

“So good, Buck. You both feel okay? Y’feel good?” 

You don’t realize the two of you are holding hands until Bucky squeezes them when he answers, “Yes, Daddy,” and—

“Oh fuck…” 

Of course, of fucking course. 

It makes sense on all levels and through all lenses. Steve is Bucky’s Daddy. The weight of this information being shared is heavy, the heftiness of it going straight to your dick. Your body throbs in time with your elevated heart rate. You already know it now— this is the hottest moment of your life. 

When your eyes flick to Bucky’s once more, you notice the faint color to his cheeks. You wonder if it’s the flush of arousal but you’re almost certain it’s the blush of something so personal being put on full display. You squeeze his hand in reassurance, wishing you had more brain power to string words together about how insanely hot and endearing you find their dynamic. The squeeze will have to do. 

“Sweetheart?” Steve asks and your answer comes just as quickly— 

“Yes, Steve.” 

Bucky leans forward, closes the gap between you with a focused swiftness, kisses you messily with a hungry exhale. He pulls his hand away from yours only to slip it under your shirt, fingers digging into the skin of your hips, your side. Your dick finishes filling out so fast you whimper into Bucky’s mouth. You barely register Steve’s voice as he whispers into Bucky’s skin, his ear, as the two of you kiss. You can’t make out his words but Bucky reacts immediately and in-full, letting out a needy whine around your tongue. 

Steve chuckles. 

“You like the sound’a that, Buck?” 

“Daddy…”

Bucky uttering that word into your mouth might send you sailing indefinitely. 

“Yeah? You want that?”

Bucky nods into your kisses before your curiosity gets the best of you and you pull back once more. You look at Steve and then back to Bucky when you don’t find answers in his eyes. Steve’s hand lands on the skin of your other side, the one opposite of where Bucky’s hand lies, his grip hot. Your next blink is a slow one. 

“Tell him, just like I asked you,” Steve whispers into Bucky’s ear and like the best boy, Bucky doesn’t hesitate and murmurs to you— 

“Wanna show you how Daddy likes his cock sucked.” 

You’re going to pass out.

You’re going to cry. 

You might actually come. 

“Buck,” you whimper into his cheek after you sway forward, the two separate hands on your body squeezing tight with the intention of helping only making it harder to stay locked into the present. You can’t even begin to comprehend your luck. This will surely be something you beat off to until you’re six feet under. 

Steve’s next noise is warm and laced with a new edge of arousal, a noise that is closer than ever as he presses it into your temple as you press another kiss to Bucky’s cheek. 

“You’re okay with that, honey? With helpin’ Buck out? He’s so sweet, wanting to share with you…” 

Share? 

You make a curious noise into your next kiss, a press of your lips into Bucky’s. You can’t stop kissing him, chasing after him, soon losing this kind of access to him ever present in the back of your mind. Bucky responds to your noise with another deep kiss, Steve’s lips on the skin of your cheek, your jaw. 

“Daddy’s cock is so big, is so good. Wanna share with you, show you,” Bucky whispers into your mouth. You immediately moan, tongue reaching for Bucky’s own. “Can show you what Daddy likes, how we can make him come. Together.” 

It’s Steve’s turn to moan, such a gentle noise in your ear, beard rubbing against your cheek before his lips are back on Bucky’s body. 

“How’d I get to be such a lucky Daddy, huh?” 

When Bucky pulls away from your lips, they’re met with Steve’s without hesitation, his hand reaching for Bucky’s chin the moment he’s able to. You watch the two of them kiss without reservation, the comfortability and familiarity obvious in the way they move and dance with one another. It’s wet and fluid and hungry. It’s apparent Steve is the one in charge, is the one moving the two of them, guiding, pulling Bucky’s mouth wide open, making him accessible. 

It is, for the time being, the sexiest thing you’ve ever been witness to. 

Your lips attach themselves to the hinge of Bucky’s jaw, sucking on it and sidling in closer, if possible. You wrap your arm around Bucky’s waist, his back, press kisses into the sweet skin of his neck as his Daddy kisses him. Your hand runs down the front of his shirt, and with a surge of confidence, down over the front of his shorts as well, grabbing at his dick and giving it a good squeeze. Bucky squeals into Steve’s mouth. 

“Tell me what you don’t want, sugar. What is off limits?” 

You’re forever grateful for the communication. Your hands hold onto Bucky’s body as he contemplates his answer, your lips unable to remain stagnant on one patch of skin for too long. 

“I don’t...I only want to share a blowjob,” he starts meekly, and you nod your head. You were thankful to have been invited over for dinner and drinks; the rest of this is a dreamy bonus. You’ll be grateful for whatever you can get, would never wish to push or sway Bucky or Steve into any line of thinking. 

“Keep goin’...” 

“I...I wanna swallow,” Bucky whispers, Steve kissing him chastely in reassurance. You do the same to the shell of his ear. “And I...I don’t know how I feel about you two kissing.” 

Steve hums and you nod your head again.

“You wanna see us kiss to see how you feel about it?” Steve offers up, and you feel your knees lock up even as you sit here kneeling. Kissing Steve might end you, going from Bucky’s mouth to Bucky’s Daddy? The privilege of it, the eroticism, almost takes you out. You wait for Bucky’s answer though, entirely content on whatever he so chooses. 

“Yeah,” Bucky murmurs, turning his head in your direction. “Yeah, I wanna see.” 

You’re still processing Bucky’s permission when Steve reaches for your chin, tugs your mouth towards his, and you immediately recognize the difference between the two men. 

Where Bucky was gentle and tentative, Steve is dominant, assertive. Both are soft in their own ways, have their own preferences, but the differences are undeniable. The kiss lasts but three or four seconds, Steve’s beard rubbing against your chin as he tilts your mouth in the opposite direction, effortlessly prying your mouth open. Your tongue still tastes like Bucky and it’s as if Steve recognizes it with a shaky noise when his own tongue briefly meets yours before he pulls back. 

Bucky breathes heavily in your ear and the next few seconds are tense between the three of you, your eyes slow to focus and snap to the present. Steve’s lips are already back on Bucky’s skin, his cheek, his jaw. 

“Buck?” 

“I don’t think I like it,” Bucky decides quietly, and Steve is quick to nod his head, to reach for Bucky’s mouth in reassurance. 

“That’s okay, of course,” Steve rushes to explain and you nod your head in complete agreement. Bucky sighs shakily, takes a deep breath. 

“I want your kisses kept for me. They’re mine,” he asserts with more confidence, and Steve all but growls, hands tight on Bucky’s body as he licks into Bucky’s mouth. Witnessing such a thing mere inches from your face has you wondering if this is all a dream, one you’ll wake up from with your hand between your legs. 

“It’s...is it bad of me to kiss him then? If I don’t let you?” Bucky asks, whimpers, Steve not ready to stop littering his face and lips with kisses just yet. It’s a fair question, one that again has you admiring these two and their relationship, how comfortable and established they seem. You don’t move when Bucky says these words, wishing to remain as neutral as possible when the topic is yourself. 

“No, baby— it’s okay,” Steve whispers, his hand finding yours to guide it to Bucky’s side. “I’m okay with it, if you wanna share kisses with him. I think you’ll like that when the two of you share my cock.” 

You and Bucky moan in unison, wiggle where you sit. Fuck. Bucky’s lips meet yours again, a rushed and impatient movement now, this new sense of urgency and excitement following the clearer boundaries. You feel like you’re moving through honey, slow to react and slow to string thoughts together, and your lips are just beginning to purse when Bucky pulls back, grabbing for your hand. He heads to the floor, tugging you with him, and you’re on your knees in front of Steve before you can even blink.

You hope you never forget every miniscule detail of this moment. 

You are once again grateful for the clear boundaries, the communication that has taken place, as you are struck in this moment by the fact that Bucky and Steve are partners. They have cultivated this long-term relationship, spent years working to get to this point of letting it flourish, and here you are being gifted with the opportunity to witness it in such an intimate way. These two are lovers, are partners, boyfriends; you need the guidance as their guest. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” Steve murmurs from above you, taking note of your apparent realization of the significance of this moment. Your eyes are glued to the way Bucky’s hands run and squeeze hungrily up his Daddy’s thighs, the way his fingers wrap around and dig into the obvious bulge at Steve’s crotch. Steve giving but one gentle touch to Bucky’s hand has Bucky’s movements ceasing, one look at the older man making his gaze quickly turn to you. You’re nodding your head swiftly, not wishing to slow the course of events. 

Bucky’s hand is on you in an instant, a squeeze to your hip followed by a curl of fingers around your neck. The way he says your name almost makes your eyes roll back into your skull. 

“We can go slower, can...can totally stop. We don’t—”

“No, no I’m...I’m fine. More than fine, just...just really fucking hot for this,” you try your hardest to explain, words heavy on your tongue and slow to roll out of your mouth. Bucky is immediately cooing, turning and pressing kisses into your cheek, the sensitive skin of your neck, and all you can do is lean into them, reaching for any part of Bucky you can grasp onto. 

“Daddy,” he starts, amusement laced in his gentle tone as he pulls back and looks over at Steve. “He sounds like he’s going sweet.” 

You’re not sure what going sweet entails, but you are nodding your head in blind agreement as soon as the words are out of Bucky’s mouth, your moan matching his giggle in amusement as he reaches for your lips with his own. The noise Steve lets out above you is also an amused one, a heated one that rolls right down your spine, Bucky’s hand chasing after it. 

“Yeah, sugar? You think so?” Steve asks, and Bucky nods his head into your kisses. 

“Mhmm, s’hard to talk when you’re goin’ sweet,” he responds, Steve surely aware of the signs of this mindset that is a mystery to you, Bucky explaining what he notes purely for your sake. “His eyes are kinda glassy, his cheeks all red and rosey. Is this why you think I’m so cute when I get this way?” 

You aren’t sure why, but Bucky’s comments, being so seen and for it to be noted verbally, have your next exhale inadvertently coming out as a whine. It is a noise that seems to prove Bucky’s point, that has him nodding his head once more in silent confirmation. 

“You better take extra care’a him then, Buck. You know better than anybody how someone going sweet wants to be treated.” 

Steve’s voice is basement deep, is thick with obvious emotion and maybe even pride. This mindset must be one that happens frequently with Bucky, one that he is indeed familiar with. Bucky’s Daddy telling him to take good care of you hits you like a freight train right to the solar plexus, right to the center of your being. You gasp with how intensely your dick throbs between your legs. 

“Yes, Daddy.” 

When Bucky turns back towards Steve’s spread thighs, he does so with you in tow this time around, hand guiding your elbow as you shift. He kisses you gently and casually on the lips before his hands are back on Steve’s thighs, his hips. You watch through half-lidded eyes as he gropes at Steve’s cock brazenly through his jeans, your heart skipping a beat at the apparent size of him; Steve would have a fat dick. 

You follow Bucky’s lead. When he settles more comfortably to the floor on his knees, you do so as well. You’re hesitant to touch right away, to do anything without Bucky’s explicit guidance. You’ve grown comfortable with touching him, with this newfound physicality, but you can’t say the same for Steve just yet. When Bucky leans forward to mouth at Steve’s cock through his jeans, you follow and instead reach for Bucky’s neck, his shoulder, your hands easily finding their way up under his shirt.

“You gonna be good, Buck?” Steve murmurs softly. He reaches his hand down, rubs his thumb along Bucky’s bottom lip distractedly from where he’s leaned back into the couch. Even in this position he looks so damn large, thighs spread wide, thick waist. Bucky’s noise is gentle and eager as you watch Steve push his thumb through the seam of Bucky’s lips. Your gut curls pleasantly at the sight.

“Yes, Daddy,” he whispers in response and, goddamn you know it to be true already. Steve hums. 

“You gonna show him how your Daddy likes his cock sucked? You gonna share and play nice?” 

You purse your lips against the hinge of Bucky’s jaw, hands tight on the heated skin of his waist. Bucky moans.  

“Yes, Daddy.” 

Steve’s attention turns to you then, same thumb coming to your mouth. Oh.

“You’re gonna listen to Buck right, sweetheart? Do as he says?” 

When Steve’s thumb presses against your bottom lip, you barely stifle your moan, his finger still slick with Bucky’s spit. He pushes it into your mouth anyway and you nod your head around the digit with a noise in agreement. 

“There’s nothin’ you have to do tonight. You know that, right?” Steve reminds you, and you nod your head again, hollowing out your cheeks as Steve pulls his thumb free from your mouth. “Good. Bucky knows that, always knows that. Wanted to make sure you knew it too.” You respond with what feels right, what feels easiest—

“Yes, Steve.” 

He taps your chin with a wink before letting his arm fall back to his side, and your brain tumbles when you hear a zip. It takes your eyes a moment to catch up with your ears, gaze remaining on the way Steve settles confidently back into the couch and less so on Bucky’s hands. The only thing that pulls your eyes downward is the happy noise that Bucky lets out, the thick hum. You can’t do anything to hide your surprise. 

You had this thought moments ago after seeing Steve’s bulge through his jeans, that his dick is big, but seeing it fill up Bucky’s hand is something else entirely. It’s the prettiest, most drool-worthy dick you’ve ever seen, pronounced crown and leaking already. You watch as Bucky touches it with apparent expertise, such fondness and knowledge, the sheer girth of Steve making Bucky’s hand look dainty and nimble. His fingers traipse down to where Steve’s balls, heavy and full, are tucked under the waistband of his briefs. 

Your mouth floods with saliva, which makes you swallow audibly. The way you melt into Bucky’s side isn’t lost on either man. 

“Got the prettiest Daddy dick, doesn’t he?” Bucky almost whispers as he sits back slightly and joins you in watching his fingers dance along the hot length of Steve. Steve hums. You whimper, your fingers digging into the skin of Bucky’s waist, his belly. 

“So...he’s so thick, Buck,” you hear yourself mumble into Bucky’s ear before you can stop yourself, and you have to resist the urge to roll your hips into Bucky’s own at the sight before you. Bucky nods, moans. 

“Mhmm, makes me fuckin’ crazy. Can come on this cock without even touching myself sometimes. Makes my boy pussy stretch out so good.” 

Fuck.

As if Bucky can’t take waiting any longer, as if his words are too much to hear for even himself, he leans forward and presses a wet, noisy kiss at the base of Steve’s cock, one and then another, lips pursing and traveling up towards Steve’s leaking tip. The movement pulls you with him briefly, pulls you closer to the dick you had just been talking about as if Steve wasn’t in the room. Steve’s hand is in Bucky’s hair from the moment Bucky leans forward, gentle and open, guiding. 

“Gonna make your Daddy blush, sugar,” Steve murmurs roughly, and Bucky almost giggles before tipping his chin and wrapping his lips around the tip of Steve’s cock and hollowing out his cheeks with another noise. Steve groans. You feel like making a noise as well, one that symbolizes just how overwhelming it is to watch Bucky’s tongue play with the tip of his Daddy’s dick, but your brain can only focus on one thing at a time. 

“Daddy’s got a sensitive cockhead,” Bucky tells you when he pulls his mouth back the barest of increments. “He likes it though, likes it when you make him feel a bit too much.” 

You do manage to make a noise that time, easier when you hear Steve’s own. 

“He likes things slower, likes to feel your mouth, likes to keep his hand in your hair and to tell you when to look up at him. He always wants you to take all of him, loves seein’ you all messy and hearing you be loud. Daddy loves his balls played with too, likes to have them sucked on, have ‘em kissed.” 

You could kneel there forever and not even put your mouth on Steve, just listen to Bucky talk about his Daddy in between kitten licks and kisses onto Steve’s cock. It’s heaven. It’s slow, syrupy heaven that you never want to be removed from, but then Bucky is tilting his head in your direction and murmuring, “C’mere.” 

You raise your head further in response to Bucky’s one word, heart hammering against your chest. 

“Come give Daddy a kiss.” 

You think you hear Steve curse into a chuckle of disbelief, but at this point anything could be your imagination. You don’t even hesitate to listen to Bucky, this itch to do as he says too strong, one you need to scratch immediately. Bucky takes his Daddy in hand, holds his cock steady and accessible for your mouth, and you follow Bucky’s lead— you plant a kiss to the underside of Steve’s dick, near the tip. The musk of the older man alone has your mouth watering, your eyelids fluttering. Bucky hums, closes the gap between the two of you, lips at your ear. 

“Messier.” 

“Fuckin’ hell, Buck. Baby…” 

You moan into the next kiss, doing as Bucky says and opening your lips after pursing them, spit leaking out as you whine and smack an even messier kiss to Steve’s dick. Bucky’s satisfied noise in your ear sends a shiver down your spine. 

“When you suck on the tip, let him know you like it. Be noisy. Use your tongue too, tease him.” 

When you tilt your chin and lean forward this time, Bucky follows you, moves with you as you dazedly open your mouth and slurp the fat tip of Steve’s dick between your lips. Bucky immediately gives you a noise that feels like praise, lips so close to your own you can feel his breath fan across them. You do exactly as he said, making the movement noisy, teasing Steve with your tongue as you slurp. Bucky kisses the corner of your mouth where it’s wrapped around Steve’s cock. 

“Doin’ so good isn’t he, Daddy?” Bucky coos, and Steve is quick to groan, to spread his thighs. 

“So good, sweetheart. Listening to Buck so well.” 

Fingers card through your hair, slow and luxurious, a movement that is not nearly long enough, and Bucky hums, whispers your name. 

“Why don’t you take some more? Take Daddy deeper.” 

You listen without hesitation this time, eager to do as Bucky says, eager to make Steve feel good. Your lips slide down Steve’s cock with only slight resistance, the girth of Steve taking you by surprise now that he’s in your mouth. You can only easily work half of him into your mouth, along the flat of your tongue, and Bucky reminds you quickly and quietly— 

“Messy. Let him know.” 

Your moan doesn’t need to be pulled out of you; it flows easily from the back of your throat and around your mouthful. 

Bucky makes his own noise, presses messy kisses of his own to your cheek, close to your lips. He moves with you as you bob your head lazily, heavy sensation in your limbs and in the back of your head coupling with the feeling of your mouth being full. It’s a lot. It feels nice, more than nice. You feel thick fingertips rub at your scalp, dig into your hair, and the sensation prolongs your moan. 

“Feels so good, sweetheart. Goddamn, doin’ so good. Buck is teachin’ you what I like so well, ain’t he?” 

When Bucky’s hand comes up to wrap around the part of Steve’s cock you have yet to reach with your mouth, you pull your head back with a sloppy, wet noise. Your eyes meet his over his handful and it seems you're almost past the point of words, these pitiful noises the only form of communication you can manage at the moment. Bucky kisses you on the mouth, once, twice, three times, kisses so full of heat as you share the taste of his Daddy that you can’t help but pant and scramble for him. 

“More?” he asks sweetly, husking the word out onto your damp bottom lip. You dig your fingers into the skin of his hip.

“More.” 

This time the two of you move forward in sync, mouths reaching for any part of Steve’s cock you can manage, soft and needy noises pouring from both of your tongues. It’s almost as if you’re kissing Bucky, lips melding and moving together, but with Steve’s cock in the way, between your lips. It’s a fantasy you’ve had before, one so far out of reach you’ve shoved it to the depths of your mind, yet here it is right in front of you, one you are experiencing in real time. 

You feel like an exposed nerve-ending, raw and alight and pulsing with untapped energy. 

When your tongue reaches out to rub at the crown of Steve’s cock, Bucky’s tongue is already there, reaching for your own tongue with a whine. When you purse your lips and slip them down the impressive line of Steve’s length, sucking kisses onto the hot flesh as you go, Bucky leans down and sucks his own kisses onto his Daddy’s balls. It makes Steve’s groan sound basement-deep, makes him spread his meaty, denim-clad thighs where he relaxes back into the couch. 

“Know what I like, sugar. There ya go,” he rasps out encouragingly, a growl of a noise as he reaches for the nape of Bucky’s neck, pulling him taut against his sac. “Gimme kisses there, baby. Fuck yeah…” 

When Steve’s hand leaves Bucky’s neck, it reaches for your forehead, brushing your hair back from your face. Your eyelids flutter in time with the way your dick twitches and if your cheeks weren’t fully flushed before, they are definitely beet red at this point. Your mouth is on Steve’s cock. Your mouth, your lips and your tongue, are on Steve’s cock. You're sharing it with Bucky who sounds like he’s purring beneath you, his mouth full of his Daddy’s balls. 

“Feels so fuckin’ good, sweetheart,” is all Steve says, simple yet gutting, and you can’t tell if it goes right to your dick or right to your head. Maybe both. 

You gasp when you feel Bucky’s hand slip teasingly along your thigh, jaw unintentionally dropping open to perfectly allow for the fat tip of Steve’s cock to slip between your lips unintentionally. Bucky’s hand so close to your dick, groping purposefully, while Steve snatches up the opportunity to kick his hips up, to fuck himself into your mouth further, has you feeling like you’re barely tethered to the earth once again. 

You don’t even process the sound of your gag, wet and filthy noise deaf on your own ears while your mouth is so very full. You hear Steve’s ragged moan though, hear Bucky’s whine as he reaches for you, his lips landing on your ear. 

“Yeah, mhmm— take my Daddy deeper. S’good, so good.” 

“Buck…shit, baby…” 

All you can do is listen eagerly, whimper and nod your head as you welcome Steve into your mouth further, your throat easily constricting around the girth of his cock.

“Daddy,” Bucky murmurs into your ear but for Steve, voice strained and heavy. “Daddy, can I…can I ask to touch him?” 

You moan around Steve, head bobbing as your tongue laps up the bitter burst of precome that floods your mouth, a direct reaction to Bucky’s request. You swallow it down happily. 

“Sugar, you wanna touch him? How?” Steve’s voice is soft even if strained, fingers slipping through your hair once more. You feel Bucky nod his head, his nose brushing your cheek as he answers.

“Wanna…wanna stroke him off. He’s makin’ you feel so good, Daddy. Wanna make him feel so good. Can I? Is that okay?” 

Oh god. 

“Fuck, baby. Bein’ so nice, aren’t you? The sweetest. You ask him, Buck. Ask him nicely. Daddy said it’s okay.” 

Bucky doesn’t miss a beat. 

“Can I take you…take you out of your pants? Can I touch you?” Bucky asks against your temple, lips slick and soft like velvet, and you don’t bother pulling your head back; you nod your head and moan around your mouthful. Steve’s hand strokes roughly at your scalp, enough to grab your attention as he says to you, “Words, sweetheart. We need words.” 

You whine.

“B-Bucky…please,” you sputter when you pull your head back, hips kicking forward as he palms the zipper of your jeans. “Please touch me.” 

“That’s it, that’s nice…” 

Bucky moves, sidles in close behind you, pulls you out of your pants with such ease and grace you’ll surely marvel at the feat later, how easily he unzips your jeans. His nimble fingers waste no time in wrapping themselves around your dick, tugging once and then twice, and you decide to be embarrassed about how close you are to already coming later. It’s like Bucky has touched you before, knows exactly how you like to be gripped, stroked. Your mouth is useless around Steve’s cock, unable to bob, unable to suck properly, not with Bucky’s fist tight around you. 

Steve’s groan is more of a sigh when he slips from your lips, your own noise much higher and needier than his own. You can’t even lift your head properly, letting your cheek fall to Steve’s thigh briefly and clumsily. 

“Buck…Bucky…” 

Bucky hums into your neck, mouth opening directly over that spot under your ear.  Your curse is bitten-off and mushy. Your legs spread as far as they can given your positioning and your pants, and even when you’re met with resistance, you press your hips forward right into Bucky’s hand anyway. 

Steve’s petting turns insistent, gets more purposeful and you raise your head blindly with a whine. A strong hand grabs at your chin and you’re inclined to say thank you, but your words get lost in the way Bucky’s wrist twists on every upstroke.

“Love watchin’ you touch him, Buck. Know just how that hand feels and I can see it on his face, what I’ve felt, how good you make it,” Steve whispers, tipping your chin up towards him just so he can watch. The heat of Bucky against your back intensifies, grows, maybe because of the throb of Steve’s words, maybe because of the way your friend sucks on the skin of your neck and whimpers at his Daddy’s praise. Maybe both.

“You should make him come,” Steve says with a bit of a growl. “You should make him come, sugar. And then you can come up here and make your Daddy come too, swallow my load.” 

You don’t even wait for Bucky to ask you— 

“Please! Bucky, please make me come, I want it.”  

Bucky’s hand gradually tightens around your dick, other hand wrapping briefly around the front of your throat before sliding down your chest. You watch as Steve takes himself in hand, fingers circling gently around his own girth, listening as Bucky says sweetly and thickly, “Yes, Daddy,” before he is whispering in your ear, “Let him feed it to you. Come with my Daddy’s cock in your mouth.” 

Five strokes. You start to come after five strokes of your dick, firm and long and harsh. You barely wrap your lips around Steve’s cock by the time you feel that swirling build in your core, before your balls draw tight and the older man is pressing you down further on his length by a hand on the back of your head. Your ears roar as you moan around your mouthful, mouth slack as Steve fucks into it, Bucky’s hand wringing wave after wave out of you. 

It is easily the most intense orgasm you have ever experienced, one you know will surely never be robbed of its title. 

Your limbs are trembling as you come down, pulling off of Steve’s cock with a wet pop and a drawn-out whine. You can’t make out Bucky and Steve’s words, not a single one of them, their hushed and soothing tones adding to the headiness of the moment. Bucky’s lips press into the skin of your neck, your shoulder, your ear, Steve’s fingers slipping through your hair soothingly. When you pull your head back you can’t stop the drool that slips down your chin and follows Steve’s cock. 

You’re well and truly gone but you know you could go again, your orgasm just barely taking the edge of the evening off. You feel that heat, that stir in the pit of your stomach, your groin, your breaths shaky as they shudder from your chest. 

“So good, sugar, fuck. He’s shakin’, look at the state you put him in. S’my boy, my boy.” 

You whimper, head no longer swimming, breaths coming easier. Bucky moves then, shifts around your hips, careful not to jostle you but quite obviously eager. He presses unexpected kisses to your lips when you turn to watch him move through half-lidded eyes. You watch as his hand reaches for Steve’s cock and you remember his orders— 

You should make him come, sugar. And then you can come up here and make your Daddy come too, swallow my load…

The hesitancy of watching you felt earlier on in the evening is nowhere to be found as you look on as Bucky drops his jaw and fills his mouth with his Daddy’s cock. You can feel Steve’s groan down in your own toes, the line of your body pressed tightly to Steve’s thigh. You can just about feel the palpable relief in Bucky’s whimper around his mouthful. It’s both admirable and deeply erotic, seeing how desperately eager Bucky is to make Steve feel good, to make him come, even after he’s already made you come. 

You can hear the unspoken words that are shared between the two of them through touch and eye contact, the intimacy doing wild things to your chest. Steve is quick to reassure you though, to include you, his arm slinging down and around your shoulders as you both watch on as Bucky brings him to orgasm.

The unspoken words dig deep into your center, but the filth that Steve spews for Bucky is otherworldly.

“Christ, babylove. Suck me so good, know just what I need. Don’t you? Know just what your Daddy needs? Fuck, that’s good, goddamn that’s it. S’gonna get me there, oh your filthy fuckin’ mouth is gonna get me there, sugar. Show’m how you make your Daddy come, show him…” 

It happens with hot and swift urgency: Bucky moans, high and whiny, doubles the efforts of his slick mouth just in time for Steve to groan deep in his chest and clasp his hand around the nape of his baby’s neck, hips kicking up, grinding. 

You aren’t surprised in the slightest that Steve is beautiful when he comes, when he is in the throes of an orgasm, but what does catch you off guard is how gorgeous Bucky looks being the one to bring Steve to his climax. He moans as if it’s his own, whimpers as he makes a show of swallowing, something you are able to witness up close. Steve is incredibly well endowed, girthy and long, and your jaw aches for Bucky’s own as you watch him easily swallow his Daddy down to the root. It’s an impressive feat, one that makes your dick ache, impossibly so.

Bucky drinks down his Daddy’s come expertly, with full enthusiasm and submission. It leaves you panting, your breath hitching just as it’s leveling out. 

But that’s before Steve is pulling Bucky up to his lap, big hands scooping him up off of the floor, words hoarse but gentle as he warns you to move to make room so you don’t get knocked by a limb. You get dizzy yourself as you watch Steve spin Bucky around by his hips, turning him to face you on the floor before pulling Bucky down into his lap. 

Your friend almost sounds like he’s hurting, like he’s frantically trying to run away from some sort of pain, whimpering his Daddy’s name over and over again.  

“You’re alright, sugar. Hush, Daddy’s got you.” 

With a smooth movement, Steve’s arm wraps up and around Bucky’s chest, fingers curling around the column of his throat. His other hand reaches for Bucky’s dick, his pants undone in an instant.

“Sweetheart?” Steve asks, the question and endearment guided towards you. You feel like you’re watching through hazy vision, slow and syrupy and kneeling there in front of the other two men. You nod your head slowly but can’t seem to look up at the older man, eyes transfixed on the way Bucky’s dick looks wrapped up in his Daddy’s thick fingers. 

“Sweetheart, look at me. There you go, thank you. Bucky— Daddy said hush.” 

You have got to get yourself a Daddy, you decide. 

“You’ve done so much for Bucky tonight, listening to him and letting him guide you and tell you what to do…” 

Steve’s hand pumps around Bucky’s weeping erection but you try your hardest to keep your eyes on Steve’s commanding ones. You swallow as he presses a sharp bite to the hinge of Bucky’s jaw, the movement forcing a sharp whine from your friend’s mouth. 

“But I want you to do something for me now. Will you do somethin’ for me, sweetheart?” 

You nod your head without thought but Steve ignores it momentarily. 

“Wait. I want you to swallow Bucky’s load. I’m gonna stroke him off until he tells me he’s close—” 

“Close, close!” 

“— and then I’m gonna feed him to you, just the tip. And you’re gonna swallow everything, every last drop. Can you do that for me, honey?” 

It’s your turn to whine. You don’t stop to think about how this might change your relationship with Bucky, how this may be a turning point, how things may be awkward after this point of knowing what his come tastes like. You lean forward, reaching for Steve’s knees, sticking your tongue out. 

You can’t think of anything else you want more in this world. 

“Good, that’s good. Tell Buck, tell him you want it.” 

“Close! Daddy!” 

“Baby, hold it.” 

“I—” 

You lean forward eagerly, Steve slowing his hand so you can press your lips against the tip of Bucky’s dick, giving it small kitten licks. Your mouth waters. 

“B-Bucky, I want it. Want…want your come in my mouth. Want to swallow your—” 

“Aww, fuck that’s sweet. Ain’t he sweet, Buck?” 

Bucky’s response is garbled and frantic, words hard to discern, even moreso with his head tipped back onto Steve’s shoulder, hips kicking up something fierce. One taste has you hungry, has you famished, and you dip your head to mouth at Bucky’s balls. 

“That’s it, that’ll make him come. Won’t it, sugar? Too bad you can’t get your mouth on his hole; could have him squealin’.” 

Bucky sobs. 

“Daddy, I can’t—! I’m coming, I’m coming! Please, I can’t—” 

“Go on, baby. He’s ready for you, ready to take it all, come on.” 

Steve’s hand strokes over Bucky, deep and hard, pulls drawn out. He doesn’t pick up the speed of his movements, doesn’t rush. He releases Bucky’s throat, reaches for the nape of your neck and guides you up and forward, hand moving on Bucky’s dick. 

“There you go, there it is…” 

You wrap your lips around the tip of Bucky’s dick just in time. He’s the perfect size, you think, just before the first taste of come splashes onto your tongue. You aren’t sure what you expect, but Steve continuing to jerk Bucky off while you drink him down is not it. When your friend moans, high pitched and whiny, all three of you moan in unison. 

This is a shared orgasm, a shared experience. What Steve and Bucky have felt tonight, you too have felt. The pleasure between the three of you, that lives in each of you individually, is palpable and intoxicating. 

Steve’s fist brushes against your lips again and again, slow to pull Bucky’s orgasm directly from his soul it seems, and feeds it to you. You do as you’re told and drink every last drop down, eyes half-lidded as you look up the line of Bucky’s body, enthralled. He’s beautiful, you’ve always thought so, but there’s something so raw and vulnerable about sharing this climax with your friend and his partner. 

You’re never going to forget this night, you think with confidence. 

You don’t think twice as you slump forward to rest your head on Bucky’s thigh, breathing heavily through your nose. Hands delve through your hair and you’re not sure if they belong to Bucky or Steve. You don’t care whose they are; they feel incredible.

The silence that settles upon the three of you is companionable, comforting. There’s no awkwardness to it, no tension. As you let your eyes fall closed, you feel like the three of you share a few breaths, deep and grounding. You try your hardest not to think about walking away from tonight, of walking away from them. Instead, you force yourself to focus on the present, on how your body feels, on how you feel having been able to provide such pleasure to both men. 

The fingers in your hair pull tight just a smidgen. 

“Hmm?” 

Were they talking to you? 

“See? I wouldn’t want to send him home tonight anyway, but look at him, Steve. He should stay.” 

You missed an entire conversation it seems. How deep had you been in your head? 

“Can he stay, Daddy?” 

Steve doesn’t miss a beat. 

“Of course he can, baby. Sweetheart? We’d like it if you’d stay the night. We can take a quick shower and hop in bed. That sounds nice, right?” 

The moan you let out is damn near pornographic, Steve’s chuckle reaching your toes and Bucky’s giggle sweeter than spun sugar. 

“It’s settled. Why don’t you boys go get in the shower while I get a few things ready for the night. Does that sound okay?” 

That sounds more than okay to you and you nod your head in agreement when Bucky murmurs out an easy and perfect—

“Yes, Daddy.”

[howdoyousleep3]

Rating: Explicit (E) Word Count: ~ 5.2 K (i have no chill, it seems) Notable Tags: Mafia Boss Steve Rogers, Daddy Kink, Age Difference, Established Relationship, Manhandling, Spanking, Slapping (pussy and face), Crying, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasms, Light Breathplay, Office Sex, Desk Sex, Possessive Behavior, Flirty Bisexual Bucky Barnes A/N: Ugh y'all, these two. This has been in my WIP folder for so so long now and I'm thrilled to finally finish it and share it, even if it almost ended me and even if I hated it by the end because I'd been staring at it for far too long. 😅 Special thank you to those who looked it over and reassured me constantly, @vilkasdaina, @maddiewritesstucky, and @sweeterthanthis. Find more of Daddy and his Kitten's story here. Read on Ao3 here. I hope you enjoy! 🧡

You try your hardest to not let the power go to your head. 

The love of your life may be the feared and respected leader of the underbelly of the east coast, but you know who he comes crawling back to each night, who has the honor of worshiping him in a way that no one has had the privilege to before. 

While you try your hardest to not let said power go to your head, it never fails to do just that each and every damn time you’re reminded of your possession over each other. And if it goes right to your pussy as well as your head, who can blame you?

The moment you catch Bucky’s eye from down the hallway, you can hear the relief in his voice, can see it in the way he takes a deep breath and lets his shoulders drop. 

“Fuck, doll— I’ve never been happier to see someone in my whole fuckin’ life,” he exclaims as his eyes run down the line of your body, his eyebrow arching immediately. You aren’t sure why he’s surprised; he warned you that pulling out all the stops was necessary on a day like today. 

“I’m happy I could make your day,” you joke as you reach for each other in greeting, Bucky’s fingers wrapping around your nape, lips pressing tightly against your cheek. He smells like spearmint, a bit musky like he’s worked up a sweat at some point during the day. You’re almost certain it’s sweat brought on by his boss and you already feel the need to apologize on his behalf for working Bucky up over what is assuredly nothing.

“Sweetheart, if you can fix his fucking attitude you’ll make more than just my day.” 

You’re sure you should be offended on some level, degraded maybe, but being called in to help improve Steve’s piss poor mood makes you feel special, makes you hot right where it counts. Knowing that others have done what they can to help improve his mood, his sharp tongue and his short patience, with no success makes you feel unique, privileged, one of a kind. It makes you hold your chin high. 

You know what your Daddy needs, know that you hold the answer to what will improve everyone’s day, starting with Steve’s own. Everyone knows why you’re here, everyone knows what you can bring to the boss that no one else can, and you aren’t ashamed in the slightest. 

You’re almost tempted to drop the thin, knee-length jacket you’re donning to the floor right where you stand outside Steve’s office. Then there would be no trace of doubt left behind as to why you’re here and what you’re bringing to the boss. 

“Anything I should know?” you inquire softly, Bucky immediately sighing and running a hand down his face in response to your question. 

“Nothin’ new, same prick as always, just maybe…times ten. Can’t get two words out without him snapping at you, not one goddamn thing is good news. Dealt with some trouble down in the borough himself, went a bit far. Might still be bloodied up from that. Didn’t even lift his spirits any.” 

It’s worse than you thought. Your plan immediately shifts in your head where you stand. He doesn’t need a docile, sweet partner— he needs that final push. You nod your head, mind quickly made up, and turn towards Steve’s office doors. 

“You sure you don’t wanna stick around, Buck?” you tease quietly, and it’s indeed a bad day if Bucky, although he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, shakes his head as he begins to walk away. 

“Goddamn, you know I’d love to, doll. But I can’t stick around and look at his ugly fuckin’ mug for one more second; I gotta go do some damage control. He may owe me for this, but I owe you.” 

Another time then. 

You wouldn’t have needed Bucky’s warning to know that Steve is indeed having an awful day; the state of his office is enough of a sign that things are not going well. Chairs are misplaced, papers scattered and quite obviously unorganized on both the coffee table and his desk. Steve enjoys a calm work environment, is a man that prioritizes tasks daily, enjoys sunlight and openness, demands serenity from the aspects of his life he can control. 

Steve is not having a very good day. 

You don’t bother locking the door; you aren’t worried about others seeing you with the boss. You almost hope it happens; it might improve his mood even further. You make quick work of the belt on your coat, slipping it off from your shoulders and draping it along the back of a chair. The crisp air of Steve’s office slips up your spine, your neck, down your nearly nude form. It’s comforting as it spreads across your heated body, has your shoulders squaring on their own accord. 

Your matching lingerie set is black and sheer, leaves nothing to the imagination with the strings of your thong resting high on your hips and your bra cupping your breasts perfectly. You leave your heels on, just as he’d like, same with your stockings. Steve is weak for the feel of their sheerness, softness, on his skin and you’ll take any sort of help you can get. 

His back is turned to you, his attention placed solely on whatever it is he is looking at at the table behind his desk. Even hunched over and irritated, he exudes such natural power and dominance you can’t help the warmth that builds between your legs, the way your eyelids droop at the sight of him alone. His dark slacks, his crisp white dress shirt that’s open at the collar, the ring on his pinky and the matching gold of a watch at his wrist, the ink that litters his body with purpose— he’s so obviously a man in charge. 

You want to console him, want to press your lips to his temple and hum, want to sit yourself in his lap and ground him, but from what Bucky has told you, that won’t work today. You're racking your brain of how to proceed when Steve is the one to speak up first.

You should have known that he would be more than aware of your presence. You’re the one that has snuck into his office unannounced and here he is, speaking up with a stern enough voice that it startles you. 

“What are you doin’ here, kitten?”

His tone demands an answer, an honest one and a quick one. It’s an impatient tone you aren’t used to but one that fits this environment. You’re bristled at his shortness but you don’t let it show, keeping your chin high and voice firm. 

“What do you think I’m doing here?” you respond with, beginning to slowly make your way in Steve’s direction, heels muted against the sprawling rug in his office, trailing your fingertip over the leather seats as you prowl. He scoffs then, a tiny noise that could be mistaken for something it isn’t, but to you it almost feels like a slap to the cheek, and not the kind you’re fond of. 

You continue to take steps in his direction nonetheless.

He turns and looks over his shoulder and there’s a brief moment where you feel you’ve won, where you feel victorious in your purpose in the way he allows himself  to drink you in, eyes damn near a physical touch as they roam your form. It is but a moment though, and he’s quick to turn his attention back in the other direction. 

You don’t think he’s ever rejected you. 

In fact, he’s always been quick to do the opposite, to make you more than aware that he craves you day and night. 

You’re immediately miffed, more than so. You look like a fucking bombshell, you left work early, you’re ready to help melt the stress away from your boyfriend’s day— how dare he not drop everything and crawl in your direction? 

You think you’re angry now, but then you hear him mumble a curt, “I’m a bit busy here, sweetheart,” and that’ll do it. 

Fuck him. 

You can’t even stop to see this situation from his point of view, can’t calm your emotions long enough to consider the circumstances that brought you here. You’re standing here in stockings and sheer lingerie and red bottoms and he wants to dismiss you? No, no. You don’t even hesitate to go for the kill, go right for what will piss him off the most. 

“Oh, that’s fine,” you start, voice deceivingly angelic as you glance down at your pristine manicure, paid for by him of course. “Bucky seemed to think I could come make your day, but if you want to be a dick about it, I’ll go see if he is willing to take full advantage of all of this.”  

You don’t even wait for him to say anything, digging your heel into the carpet as you turn your back on him, your body trembling all over in anger. You make sure he gets an eyeful though, the cherry on top surely being the sway of your hips, the view of your ass he can never say no to. 

You make it two steps towards the door after reaching for your coat before his hands are on you.

He wraps a thick arm around your waist, his other hand coming up to curl around the front of your throat, yanking you back against his chest. You can immediately feel the way his own body trembles with caged emotion, and while it should be a comfort to you, it is anything but. It could be pent up emotions from the day, it could be ones you’re bringing out right now. It could be a combination of the two. Either way, you do not find solidarity in your shared outbursts.

The fight within you is strong. You’re ready to take him on and if he wants to go about it in such a physical way, then so be it.

“You wanna run that by me again, kitten?” he spits lowly into your ear, holding you roughly against the rigid line of his much larger body. You don’t make it easy for him, twisting and bucking as much as you can as he pulls you back further into his office, further away from the door. As physically useless as the fight is, pushing back feels good. You dig your blood red nails into his forearm, thrash against his hold. 

“Yeah, sure,” you bite out like a brat, making sure to speak clearly. “If you’re not going to take advantage of me, I’m sure Bucky would love to. In fact—” 

Your words are muffled by his hand, the last of them drowned out by his growl. You kick over a chair as he picks you up off the floor, knocking it to the ground as you flail, and as you reach his desk, you happily tear your teeth into Steve’s palm. He only grunts in frustration, hand coming back down to your neck in an instant, frustration evident in the way his fingers curl around the column of it.

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth,” he whispers against your temple, and you can’t stop your husky laugh as it tumbles out of your mouth. 

“Daddy doesn’t mean that.”

With a noise of frustration, he has you shoved over his desk at the waist, hip bones digging sharply into the expensive oak. Your coat is long forgotten a few steps back and his hand is on your ass without pause, squeezing roughly at one cheek and then the other. The set of smacks that follow are startling, painful and succinct. 

You love it.

The huff you let out is intended to be one of irritation, of shock, but instead it comes out laced with throaty pleasure. Damn Steve Rogers and the size of his hands, his strength, his intimate knowledge of everything that makes your pussy throb and your walls crumble for him and only him. 

He may have you deliciously and physically restrained, but you’re still more than upset he didn’t want a taste of what you’ve brought to him, a taste of this. But he still hasn’t covered your mouth, and you’re not quite done pushing his buttons. 

“Daddy loves it when my mouth is wide open. Right, Daddy? Didn’t you say something like that last night?” 

You rarely speak to him this way, goading and aggressive, and you momentarily question whether or not you’re crossing a line. That is, until you feel his cock dig into the cushion of your ass cheek, the grind unintentional if his grumble turned bitten-off groan tells you anything. Perfect— you’ve just figured out how to help improve your boyfriend’s mood. 

You roll your ass back into his cock, swirl your hips back against his bulge.

With a snarl, he flips you, tosses you onto your back onto his desk. 

Goddamn. You pause for a moment to take note of how fucking hot Steve is when he’s angry. It’s different when it’s at you, you see this now. You’ve witnessed his anger directed at others, but you’ve not once been on the receiving end of it. Maybe you should make him angry more often. 

His chest heaves as he looks down at you, stormy eyes slow to rake over your surely flushed body, a normally slicked-back lock of hair curling over his forehead. The tattoos that lace the column of his throat seem more pronounced with his open collar and his heaving chest. There isn’t a stray beard hair in sight, the salt and pepper hairs trimmed close to his skin. The pause drags on for a few seconds more and you almost feel the need to heel and spread your legs and to give in. But that’s not what Steve needs. 

Instead you spread your legs and bring the point of your heel up to dig into his shoulder. 

He visibly grits his teeth as he gazes down hotly at you, his hands coming to grip your waist tight enough to make you wince. But you don’t break eye contact, even as he leans into your heel, even as he digs it further into his shoulder. Fuck, you’re in love with this man. 

“You think Bucky would tell me to keep my mouth closed?” you whisper without shame, leaning up onto your elbows to drive the point home. “You think he’d appreciate me coming into his office in his favorite pair of panties of mine, just about begging to be fucked?” 

It’s harsh, yes, but you’re still upset and you have a job to complete; you’re not a quitter. And it pays off immediately when Steve all but growls, “You think he can give you somethin’ I can’t?” 

Perfect.

You dig your foot into his chest with a hard shove. 

“No.” 

You can’t see the confusion in Steve’s features but you know it’s there. He can stay light on his feet all he wants but you’re hard to keep up with, you know this. 

Dropping your foot from his shoulder, you wrap both of them around his waist, damn near yanking him towards you. The impressive bulge in his pants is hard as steel and you whimper softly yet unashamedly when it grinds in tight against your panty-covered pussy, eyes still on his. Feeling his need for you, it’s easy for the anger to slightly clear and for you to finally consider the kind of day he’s had, that he needs you to prove to him that this is part of your purpose as his partner. 

“No, he can’t, Steven,” you sternly tell him, voice low yet demanding as you reach for the collar of his shirt, tugging. “No one can give me what you can give me.”

A spark of a flame reaches his eyes then, hitting him right where it counts, right in that possessive bone in his body. You speak into his mouth, his warm breath on your tongue causing your chest to constrict.

“But if you want to be a dick about me showing up looking hot as fuck, showing up just so you can fuck me and go about your day as the boss, then yes— I’m gonna tease you about someone else appreciating me” 

Steve rolls his hips slowly, deeply, rumbles as he rakes his hands up your torso to palm roughly at your breasts over your bra, your nipples pebbling immediately. He pinches them both before his hands are moving on. You hiss, clit throbbing at the rough attention. 

“You’re a real fuckin’ piece’a work. You know that?”

You dig your heels into his back when you huff, brazenly nipping at his chin. 

“Of course I know that. Now, fuck me, Daddy. Take it out on me, use me to feel better. Come on.” 

Steve never needs to be told twice; he’s a man of action. He takes full advantage of being told he has complete access to your body, reaching for the strings of your panties and ripping them down your legs carelessly. 

“Of fucking course you wore the stockings. Knew from the moment you walked in here. With these on, you’re up to no fuckin’ good.”

He grabs and squeezes at handfuls of your thighs as he speaks and you finally cave and give into the moment with a whine, head falling back onto the desk. Steve shoves your legs apart in the air around his body, his hand coming down tightly over your bare pussy, first one time and then a few smacks after that. Fuck. The sting of it is exactly what you want, what this moment is worthy of, and you clench desperately around nothing in response. 

“Motherfucker,” you damn near snarl, and where you’d normally spread your legs further and pout, you try your hardest to pull them tightly closed. Steve needs a fight, needs to burn off more energy than a normal fuck will provide him with. He proves you right once more when he pries your legs apart, uses a kind of force that you rarely see. You’re no match for his strength. Your legs are barely pressed together for two seconds before he’s got them spread yet again with a growl. 

You barely get out a hiss of “Yes,” before he’s draped over you, mouth latching onto your neck. It’s so much. In your head you hadn’t got as far as this, your plan only reaching up to you convincing Steve to have his way with you, and even that hadn’t gone as planned. You hadn’t considered how difficult it would be to keep your goal and purpose in the forefront of your mind while Steve actively ravaged your body. 

His mouth is brutal on your neck, the press of teeth and the suction of lips enough to leave you gasping, your hands making weak attempts at pushing him away. You feel him reach between your bodies and fumble with his belt, the zipper of his pants, and you force out an impatient noise to rile him up further. 

“Come on, Daddy— give it to me,” you murmur, reaching around to dig your hands into his ass. “Show this little pussy why you’re her Daddy, why you own her.” 

“Fuckin’ hell, kitten…”

He brings his hand up to his mouth, collects spit on a few of his fingers, brings them back down to his cock. He doesn’t slam his way inside of you, and while he ensures you aren’t in unwanted pain, that first deep slide is enough to shove you halfway to your climax already. The girth of him never fails to take your breath away, to send you sailing into orbit. 

His deep and appreciative groan is enough to have made all of this shit worth it, the chaos that was this almost failed attempt at providing your boyfriend with stress relief. It’s also enough to send you that much closer to your orgasm. 

There is no difference between the pushiness and aggression leading up to this point and this moment; Steve fucks you with unabashed emotion and need. You aren’t used to this, this sort of raw need, this force. The walls of your pussy strain to take him, to adjust. The sensation of Steve on top of you, between your legs, the whole weight of him pressing you into his desk, being selfish is foreign. 

Where Steve is usually smooth and focused and giving, this version of him is anything but.

He isn’t concerned about you for a second, not your pleasure or your feelings. His hands delve up into your hair, the both of them, twisting them as he fucks roughly up into your pussy, grinding and rolling and humping. He holds you where he wants you, restricts your movements and keeps you where he can best get his dick soaked. It’s a form of bliss you’ve not once experienced, and your shared eye contact, this heavy gaze he refuses to break, makes you choke on a sob. 

“Fuck it,” you bite out against his mouth, barely able to hear your words over the rush of blood in your ears, over the sound of him fucking into you with abandon. “You fuck that pussy like no one else can, Daddy. That’s Daddy’s pussy.”

Steve curses. Even as you say the words, you feel them directly in your clit, the throb of them intense. The forceful grinds with every other thrust presses the base of Steve’s cock tight against your clit, each one making you choke down a whimper. You’re shaking where you lay, nails digging encouragingly into the meat of Steve’s ass, legs spread wide, knees pressed back towards your shoulders. Steve has full access to you, as he deserves. The glide of him is sublime, the stretch of him enough to leave you panting, in and out, in and out. 

Your pussy feels so good being used the way that it is. You can’t catch your breath.

You aren’t the least bit surprised when your orgasm tears through you.

“Oh shit, that’s yours, that’s Daddy’s. That pussy comes for Daddy, all for—”

“Jesus Christ, you’re gonna milk me fuckin’ dry. Haven’t even been inside’a you for a minute and you’re fallin’ apart.” 

You openly sob, tears springing to your eyes as the sensitive walls of your pussy suck Steve in, flutter and pulse around his girth. He doesn’t stop, cock digging into that sweet spot inside of you, movement prolonging your orgasm as you groan. Your pussy is so wet you can feel it soaking the inside of your thighs, the base of Steve’s cock. 

You have half the mind to note that your plan is working, that Steve is finding his footing again, that he’s confident and feeling dominant, in charge. You can’t hold back your lax smile, and the way Steve all but scoffs at the sight of it makes you turn your face and reach for his teeth with your jaw. 

“Surely that’s not all you’ve got,” you hear yourself pant shakily, your voice and the way your limbs tremble betraying you in an instant. “Come on, big daddy— show ‘em why you’re the boss.”

He’s climbing onto the desk, still inside you, without a second thought. 

“Yes, yes—”

“Un-fucking-believable…” 

The smile that’s spread across your face is only present for a few seconds before you’re biting it away, Steve’s hands in your hair moving, one curling to scruff you by the nape of your neck. The other tears at your bra, impatiently ripping one cup down, your breast spilling out and into his waiting hand. He squeezes at you roughly, fingers smacking down tightly over your nipple. 

Your head bounces with his thrusts, only to be pulled back by Steve’s hand on your nape. He uses you like a doll, like a toy. It all makes you want to scream: the new angle allowing for Steve to fuck messiliy into you, the complete physical dominance, the animalistic noises Steve continues to let out, how wet and wrecked you feel and sound. It’s enough for tears to begin to stream down your face. 

Looking back, you’ll surely blame it on how startlingly emotional you became as he fucked you mercilessly, how unprepared you were for your body and mind’s reactions. You may blame it on how cockdrunk you are, how out of your mind the feeling of Steve dicking you down so thoroughly made you. 

You raise your hand and bring it down hard across his cheek. 

The crack of it is so shocking to you, both in sound and sensation on your palm, that you gasp raggedly. The moment seems to have called for it, such harsh treatment, but you hold your breath when Steve grunts, hips stilling, eyes wild when his head snaps back down to look at you. 

When he doesn’t say anything, you whimper, your whimper easily turning into a hiccup, too nervous to speak.

He punches his hips forward, silencing you with the stretch of him, with feeling him up in your guts. You blink back your tears as you bite down onto your lip.

“Again,” he finally rasps out, the hand on your nape slipping around to the front of your throat, squeezing. “Fuckin’ hit me again, kitten.” 

That’s it for the both of you.

Your opposite hand is up in the air and you do what you can to bring it down onto Steve’s other cheek with another sob, all while he fucks into you so roughly your body scrapes across his desk with every thrust. The smack is sloppy and only slightly makes contact with his jaw, but it’s enough to send the two of you hurtling towards your orgasms. 

Yours is so blinding it almost hurts, the way it bursts from your center and outwards. You can’t make a noise, a scream lodged in your throat, body making a valiant attempt at arching up into Steve’s own, shaking. You lay there and take your climax, let Daddy rob it from your body, drink it up. 

You know he’s coming by the way he squeezes your throat and bites out a gritty, “Fuck.”

“You better think twice about comin’ into my office and teasin’ me with your pussy again, little girl,” he pants into your ear, voice rougher than you’ve ever heard it to be, just able to cut through the fog in your mind. “Fuck, you wanna come up into my office tellin’ me you’re gonna go let somebody else have what’s mine?”

There’s not an ounce of fight left in you as your pussy continues to pulse and quiver around his cock, as you lay there splayed for him, taking his load.

“No, no! It’s Daddy’s, s’daddy’s pussy, all for Daddy. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m—” 

You’re babbling nonsense, the roll of Steve’s hips not slowing, the stroke of his cock along your inner walls making you dizzy. Your voice has turned nasally, small and whiny, just like Daddy likes it. Steve’s hand trembles around your neck. You can feel his come leak out of you, how messy you feel as he continues to fuck into you, hips slowing but not halting like you’re used to.

“No,” he groans, shaking his head, his lips smearing messily against your cheek, your jaw. “You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry for, baby. You know me so fuckin’ well, know just what your Daddy needs. You’re perfect, fuck, a perfect goddamn angel.” 

Euphoria. 

There’s nothing else he could have said that would make you feel the way you do now. You’re pushing overstimulation, thighs trembling around Steve’s waist, chest heaving as you’re left sucking air into your lungs. Your body and mind have been sent to hell and back and you didn’t realize how badly you wanted to hear Steve reassure you that this was okay, that everything you’ve done and said was acceptable. 

You pull him down to you with another hitch in your breath, fingers slipping through his hair, arms winding around his neck.

He begins to litter your face with kisses once he finally does slow and eventually stops the slide of his cock, hissing, body settling down onto your own with a heaving sigh. The weight of him is hefty but welcomed, the reminder of his sturdiness something that you let settle into your bones. 

“Don’t be sorry, kitten. I won’t allow it. Not after that.” 

You hum.

“So bossy,” is all you murmur into his beard, your legs slipping down the backs of his own, holding him close. 

“I’m pretty sure you were just tellin’ me to prove I was the boss, so…”

You merely harrumph in response; you’re done arguing for the day, possibly the week.

After a few blessed, silent moments of breathing and coming down from your shared high together, you begin to let a sense of accomplishment slip through your mind. You were brought in to help, to bring Steve out of his head and to improve his mood and therefore the mood of everyone else in his presence. You’ve made a difference, have helped your Daddy, were thoroughly dicked down in the process. And even though this was more emotionally heavy than you anticipated, you feel good. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve eventually breaks the silence with, pulling his head back in order to look you in the eyes as he apologizes. He always has to look you in the eyes when you’re sharing serious words. Communication is something he values highly, your constant honesty with one another a must for him and in turn you. In his line of work, how he spends his days, he can’t risk the two of you not being on the same page.

He kisses your lips softly, his hands slipping through your hair.

“I’m sorry for not giving you the attention you deserved when you walked in here, baby.” 

You shake your head. “I should have been more cognizant of your mood and how your day has gone. I’m sorry too.” 

He kisses you again, once and then twice, lips soft and gentle with your own. 

“What I’m not going to apologize for,” he whispers then, voice deep and mischievous, “is everything that led up to you smackin’ me.”

You giggle, first softly and then louder as Steve grips your chin and doesn’t let you shy away from his eye contact. He nips at your chin. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. Where the hell did that come from?” 

“I don’t know! I…it just felt right. I’m so—” 

“Nope,” he cuts you off quickly, nose nudging your own. “No apologizing, I already said that. You’re perfect. I’m serious— this was just what I needed.”

You sigh into his next set of kisses, exhaustion slowly seeping into your bones.

“Well, you’ll have to thank Bucky for this later.” 

“I will do no such thing.” 

He slips from your body then, motioning for you to stay where you are and to not move. You don’t think you could sit up without help. He comes back from the adjacent bathroom looking everything provider and Alpha and Daddy, slacks buttoned and white shirt tucked into them. He cleans you off with a warm washcloth, puts the pieces of your sexy getup that are out of place back to where they belong. His hands linger on your thighs, stroking at the softness of your stockings. 

He touches you with such gentleness and care. It’s so different from the touches he gave you just moments before, the ones you can feel growing sore already. 

“I love you,” you find yourself whispering once he’s pulled you into a sitting position on his desk, taking a seat behind it in his chair. He pulls you easily to the edge, takes both of your hands into his own, brings them each to his lips. 

“I love you as well, sweetheart,” he purrs, hands moving to grip at your hips, to pull at them like he does when he’s feeling ready for another round. Surely he isn’t, not after that. He leans forward, kisses the top of each of your breasts. 

“I was rough on you wasn’t I, kitten? Gonna have to make it up to her later, get my mouth on her and give her kisses to—” 

Bucky doesn’t even knock when he enters the office, walks right in as if it’s his own. He doesn’t care that you’re practically naked, that you’ve obviously been fucked to the edge of your life, that the two of your are surely flushed and marked enough to prove what you’ve just been spending your time doing. He walks right up to Steve’s desk, hands in his pockets, casual. 

“You missed the show, Buck,” Steve grumbles, pulling you closer and gathering you into his lap, not wanting your near naked body to be seen by his right hand man. As if he hasn’t seen it before. Bucky whistles low, throws a wink over your way that you catch over your shoulder. 

“Oh, no no no,” Bucky rumbles knowingly. “I don’t think anyone in this house missed that show…Daddy.”

[howdoyousleep3]

Welcome to my Kinktober 2022 Masterlist! Each day will be shared in a post, linked here, and then this post itself will be shared. The hashtag for all things Kinktober is "howdoyousleep kinktober 2022". Please read all included tags and author's notes to make the best responsible reader decision. As per usual, all stories are to be read by readers 18+ only. Stay spooky and enjoy, besties! 🖤

🐍 day 1 // Daddy Kink // Daddy Steve x Baby Bucky // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

🎃 day 2 // Authority Kink // Senator Rogers x Intern Bucky ft. Maddie's Jockverse // read here on Tumblr Part 1 Part 2 // read here on Ao3 // see teaser here

👻 day 3 // Uniform Kink // Pre-War Stucky // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

😈 day 4 // Angry Sex // Mafia Daddy Steve x Female Reader // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

🐈‍⬛ day 5 // Quickie // 3-Day Weekend Daddy (3DWD) x Bunny Baby // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

😱 day 6 // Getting Caught // Senator Rogers x Intern Barnes // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

⚰️ day 7 // Drunk // Steve Kemp x Female Reader // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

💀 day 8 // Age Difference // Sub Baby Bucky Barnes x Daddy Dom Steve Rogers // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

🦇 day 9 // Dirty Talk // Steve Rogers x Female Reader // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

👽 day 10 // Mouth // Bucky Barnes x Female Reader // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

🔮 day 11 // Housewife Roleplay // Senator Rogers x Intern Barnes // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

💚 day 12 // Omegaverse // Omega Steve Rogers x Alpha Bucky Barnes // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

🧛 day 13 // Coming Untouched // Shrunkyclunks (Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes) // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

🧟 day 14 // Skirt // Trans Bucky Barnes x Biker Daddy Steve Rogers // read here on Tumblr // read here on A03

🪲 day 15 // Mommy Kink // Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

👸 day 16 // Orgasm Denial // Senator Natasha Romanoff x Female Intern Reader // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

🕸 day 17 // Alley // Punk Steve Rogers x Rocker Bucky Barnes // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

🧞‍♀️ day 18 // Morning Sex // Best Friend's Dad Andy Barber x Male Reader // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

🍬 day 19 // Wet Dream // 3-Day Weekend Daddy (3DWD) x Bunny Baby // read here on Tumblr // read here on A03

🛸 day 20 // Role Reversal // Daddy James x Stevie Baby // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

💜 day 21 // Comemarking // Omega Gender Neutral Reader x Alpha Steve Rogers // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

🌕 day 22 // Hands // Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend's Dad Steve Rogers // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

🗡 day 23 // Breeding Kink // Ari Levinson x Female Reader // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

🩸 day 24 // Erotic Letters // Camboy Bucky Barnes x Pornstar Steve Rogers // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

⚱️ day 25 // Missionary // "Smol" Steve Rogers x "Bear" Bucky Barnes // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

🧚‍ day 26 // Overstimulation // Chris Evans x Sebastian Stan (Evanstan) // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

🦄 day 27 // Innocence // Succubus Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

🦉 day 28 // Threesome // Daddy Steve x Baby Bucky x Male Reader // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

👹 day 29 // Car Sex // Stepdad Andy Barber x Female Reader // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

🥸 day 30 // Sex with a Stranger // Shrunkyclunks (Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes) // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

☠️ day 31 // Aftercare // Daddy Steve x Baby Bucky // read here on Tumblr // read here on Ao3

[howdoyousleep3]

Rating: Explicit (E) Word Count: ~1.8K Notable Tags: Omegaverse, Omega Steve Rogers, Experienced Alpha Bucky Barnes, PWP (Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot), Loss of Virginity, Dirty Talk, Manhandling, Crying, Anal Sex, Light Subspace, Size Difference, Size Kink, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms A/N: The first story I had complete for Kinktober was this one, haha. Omegaverse tends to hit me like a train and oh boy, did this story hit me. I tried out different and more concise ways of writing so it was nice to try something new, but I'm not sure if I liked it, ha. I need this Bucky in my life ASAP. 😮‍💨 I hope you enjoy! 🧡 Read here on Ao3.

“Look at that…” 

Steve already loves not being a virgin.

His exhale feels like it shakes his ribcage, his inhale twisting up like a pretzel in his chest. Even with his eyelids heavy and his vision blurred, he doesn’t look down. He can’t. If he looks down the line of his contorted body and sees where Bucky’s alpha cock breaches his cunt, he’ll shoot off immediately. And he has more self-respect than to shoot off like a rocket while he loses his virginity. 

But it’s just so good.

“So fuckin’ ready for it, look how hungry you are. Just waitin’ for me, aren’t you? Tight, pretty pink just waitin’ for the right cock, the right alpha.” 

“Bucky…”

“Mhmm, a little more now, baby. Take a little more for me.” 

Steve didn’t expect sex to be like this. He didn’t expect it to be the most intense experience of his life, didn’t expect it to be erotic and heady and slow. Every inch of him feels as if it's trembling, limbs not cooperating, all thoughts akin to static. His tongue is heavy in his mouth and his senses are all on high alert. He feels like a livewire, an exposed nerve ending. All he can smell is Bucky, his smoky forest floor scent, all he can feel is Bucky, each point where his body touches Steve’s burning. 

The sensation of Bucky inside of him, of his own body stretched around the girth of Bucky’s cock, leaves him panting. He’s never been slicker, never been more wet for anyone including himself. He wonders if he should be embarrassed, should feel shame for how sticky and wet he is between his legs, but Bucky makes it seem as if he should feel the exact opposite, reaching and rubbing at his rim with a pleased rumble.

Is he in heat? Is it always like this? 

“No,” Bucky whispers softly against the skin of his ankle, his mitts for hands pressing the backs of his knees to the mattress, exposing Steve in full. “It’s never like this. I told you— you were just waitin’ for me. Which means I was just waitin’ for you, ‘Mega.” 

Steve hadn’t realized he’d spoken those words out loud. He isn’t sure if Bucky’s response is comforting or not, the thought of nothing ever matching this experience heavy in the back of his mind. The thought of Bucky implying they’re practically soulmates is even heavier. It scratches an itch deep down in his bones, produces another wave of slick, makes his own dick jump against his belly, forces him to whimper mindlessly. 

Bucky pulls his hips back, rolls them forward to the point where Steve is used to, shallowly fucking him. Steve mewls, pleasure curling in his gut, sensations he’s never once experienced wracking his limp body. 

“Look at me, Steve— look at me.” 

Steve responds as he should and in a quick manner, wondering if Bucky commanded him to or if any ounce of fight left in him is completely gone. Bucky is a gentle soul, a gentle alpha. He goes to the farmer’s market every weekend, reads each night before bed, goes to yoga class a few times a week, drinks tea; nothing about him is domineering. But this Bucky, this panting and sweating and hulking alpha fucking into him…

Steve’s never seen Bucky like this. He almost feels as if he should be frightened, but he also thinks that adds to the intensity of his attraction to the alpha, to this moment. This Bucky has a filthy mouth and a smooth roll of his hips and a confident touch. Every other breath is a growl or a grunt, his burly chest glistening in the low lamplight, his chestnut hair falling into his face. He’s very much in control but he’s not, his grip on Steve tight and possessive, his voice rattling his own chest on its way out. 

He’s the hottest fucking thing Steve’s ever seen. 

When his eyes meet Bucky’s, the shock of their shared gaze zips up his spine like lightning.

“Yeah, you’re ready for more. You ready for it, baby? You want more?” 

“Want more,” he slurs back without thought, ready or not, watching heat flash across Bucky’s darkened sky eyes. “Gimme more, gimme all of it, Bucky. Alpha.” 

Bucky presses him into the mattress in order to do just that, the hands on his thighs moving to frame Steve’s face, his thick torso smashing him more than pleasantly into the mattress. He shouts, his noise turning into a mewl, his fingers digging into Bucky’s back, scrambling. Oh, this…this is different, having Bucky this close. This is overwhelming, this has Steve gasping. The pressure on his rim, his body forced to adjust to thickness it has not previously experienced, has his eyes rolling back in his head.

“Fuck, Steve. So small, so fuckin’ small. Ain’tchu a miracle, a tiny fuckin’ miracle, you and this cunt. Just takin’ every inch like you were made for it, for me.” 

“Bucky, I can’t…oh god, Buck. I’m gonna come, I can’t—” 

“A’course you are, of fucking course you are. Ain’t even takin’ my whole dick, haven’t even given you long strokes, and you’re gonna—” 

“Bucky!” 

It shatters Steve, this climax. It comes out of nowhere and rips up and through his entire being, leaving him no choice but to shout and sob into Bucky’s shoulder, into his neck where his scent is strongest. His cunt pulses around Bucky’s cock, around half of it, his dick spurting off between their bodies. But it isn’t enough, half of Bucky isn’t enough. He scrambles, his hands reaching for his alpha’s ass, pushing. 

“I want all of it, I want…Alpha, give me—” 

“Steve, fucking hell, you gotta—” 

“No! More, want all of it, all of it, lemme come on—” 

“Goddamnit, Omega!” 

For a brief second, Steve regrets his pushiness. He regrets letting his climax take over his brain, regrets not thinking with a clear head. With a deep set of impatient growls, a loose grip around Steve’s throat, a few fingers sloppily twisting in Steve’s hair, Bucky pushes. His hips punch forward, and albeit slow, Steve cries out, shocked at the force of it, shocked by the stretch. It feels impossible, feels like something Steve should pull away from, like something that consumes him whole. He feels Bucky in more than just his cunt, feels him in his entire being, in his chest, in his lungs. His heart.

Bucky’s groan sounds like a bellow. Steve is unable to do anything but whine. The alpha shoves at the hand around Steve’s neck, spits out a curse, knocking Steve blessedly around. 

“That what you wanted? That it? Stubborn sonofabitch, aren’t you? God, baby…” 

Steve can barely breathe, legs spread obscenely wide around Bucky’s waist, hands skating where they can on his torso, hazily noting his sticky release on Bucky’s skin. He feels claimed, feels whole. He’s aching where it counts, his hindbrain taking over in full as he smiles, the chant of Alpha Alpha Alpha on repeat in his mind. The smell of their swirled scents, the feel of his cunt oozing slick, the grind of Bucky’s knot against his rim— 

“Yes.” 

It’s exactly what Steve wanted. 

He feels Bucky’s chuckle down to his toes, damn near squeals when Bucky turns and nuzzles into his neck, sucks on his scent gland. His squeal turns into a throaty groan when Bucky is slow to pull his hips back bit by bit, pressing in and grinding in tight, owning Steve’s cunt. 

“Good fuckin’ thing you’re cute and that this is the prettiest, tightest cunt I’ve ever been in. ‘Cause that’s the last time you tell me what to do. You hear me?” 

Steve’s eyes might permanently roll into the back of his skull. 

“Mhmm, sure yes, yes. Now, make me come again, fuck me.” 

He gets an immediate punch of Bucky’s hips, the hand around his throat going tighter, an open-mouthed kiss to his cheek, the sharp bite of teeth. His cunt throbs around Bucky’s alpha cock. 

“I think you’ll learn that brats—” 

“Buck!” 

“— tend to not get what they want.” 

Steve’s huff, his pout, is met with another dirty kiss, this time on his mouth, Steve barely able to open his mouth before Bucky has taken what he wants. 

“I got’chu, baby. Hush. Lemme enjoy this little virgin cunt now. Lemme learn you, lemme help you learn you. Stop bein’ so pushy, lay back. Let your Alpha love on you good and proper.” 

Steve melts into the mattress, hears himself purring before he feels himself doing it, nuzzling into the side of Bucky’s neck, inhaling. His dick throbs at the intensified smell that is Bucky, his alpha, jumping against his belly again when Bucky purrs out a smooth, “Atta boy,” and pulls his hips back, dragging his cock from the vice of Steve’s cunt. 

The second time he comes, he does look. Bucky makes him hold his knees to his shoulders, holds him up by the nape of the neck, squeezing. He comes in the middle of one of Bucky’s filthy sentences, squealing and sobbing as he watches, mesmerized, as his slippery hole eats his alpha’s cock up, stroke after stroke. Bucky tells him he’s fucking beautiful, presses in tight and asks Steve if he’s ready for Bucky’s knot. 

Steve says no, not wanting this experience to end. The thought of taking Bucky’s knot is dizzying, the omega in him preening and begging to be stretched and claimed, but the thought of this sort of euphoria ending could bring tears to his eyes. Bucky merely chuckles and keeps fucking him, perfect parts patient as he is pushy, purring into his neck, shifting him from one position to the next, selfishly wringing Steve and his body of its pleasure. 

He tells him it’s his job as his alpha, that this is how he’s supposed to treat Steve, that he’s supposed to give his omega this and more, every day if he wants. 

And when tears track down Steve cheeks, when he’s trembling and useless and delirious with pleasure he’s never felt before, Bucky tells him he’s ready. 

“You’re gonna come so fuckin’ hard around my knot, baby. You thought you shot off hard when I was half inside’a you, just wait until you’ve got my whole goddamn cock inside of you, knot to tip. C’mon, honey— take it for your alpha, be a good omega for me.”

Yeah— Steve loves not being a virgin.

[howdoyousleep3]

Rating: Explicit (E) Word Count: Notable Tags: Established Relationship, Daddy Kink, Manhandling, Clothed Sex, Rimming, Dirty Talk, Blowjob, Drinking/Tipsy, the use of the word pretty because Steve is on his way to drunk and thinks his Bunny is the prettiest thing in the whole wide world A/N: There wasn't a doubt in my mind that this day belonged to these two. I don't normally write from the Daddy's point of view, and I've never written from 3DWD's point of view, so hopefully you can enjoy that. Thank you to my sweet sunshine, @ywecanthavenicethingsanymore for helping me work out some details. She is the expert after all. 🙇 These two are so madly in love and aren't afraid to show it, it's disgusting. Sluts! 🥰 Read on Ao3 here. Enjoy babies! 🧡

Steve is in love. 

He watches from across the room as Bucky tips his head back and giggles at whatever it is that Nat says to him, swaying backwards with the force of it, Nat blessedly reaching to grab his elbow before he sends both himself and the cup in his hands tumbling to the floor. Even with the moody lighting he can see the flush of Bucky’s cheeks, the way it crawls down his neck. 

Steve’s never seen someone so beautiful in his entire fucking life. How did this angel end up falling for such a sorry bastard like himself? 

Bucky giggles again, Steve barely able to hear it over the blare of the music but knowing exactly how melodic it sounds from memory alone. His cock swells another fraction of the way, the very visible line of Bucky’s bare throat just begging for Steve’s mouth. 

He’s been hard in his jeans for hours, stopped adjusting himself as soon as the sun went down and therefore the lights throughout Nat’s apartment. He can’t help it when his Bunny is so happy and carefree and ethereal. 

Fuck, he’s so in love.

Steve is easily the oldest person at this party. The people that mill about are ones ten, fifteen years his junior, are ones from Bucky’s office, friends from college. He’s lucky he still has the love for a good party running through his blood because if he didn’t, he’d be absolutely fucked. Rarely does Steve feel his age and tonight, he almost feels like he’s creeping well into his fifties

Nat sure does know how to throw one hell of a party. When she called Steve to set it up in celebration of Bucky getting a promotion, Steve couldn’t agree fast enough. 

“I know how to throw a barbeque and a block party, but I can’t say I know how to throw one worthy of this kind of celebration, kid,” he had told Nat on the phone, and she had brushed him off respectfully with a laugh. 

“Don’t worry, old man— we’re gonna throw it back to college for this one, Bucky’s favorite. I’ve got it covered.” 

Steve had an idea of what this meant based on what he knows about his Bunny and stories he’s told Steve about his time in school, but to see Bucky tonight, to see him so carefree and loose, has left the older man hard in his pants and soft in his chest. To see him work tirelessly to deserve praise, after going above and beyond at work to design and decorate the house of the Governor himself, to see him accept said praise— Steve is truly, madly in love. 

There’s nothing more special than seeing your partner loved and appreciated. Steve is reminded of that now.

And for the hundredth time tonight, he’s reminded of how he fell head over ass for this boy, feeling that familiar zip up his spine when Bucky easily finds his gaze amongst the group, from across the room. The heat that builds in Steve’s groin is ridiculous when the younger gives him a hot, knowing look. Bucky sucked him off right before they left for the party, easily dipped to his knees and let Daddy use his throat as they shared a shower. That was mere hours ago and here Steve is aching in his jeans, insatiable for anything Bunny will gift him with. 

Steve isn’t above admitting that Bunny’s looks are what easily reeled him in from the first night they met. Buck is pretty all over: pretty pink lips, pretty eyelashes that frame pretty ocean eyes, pretty and graceful fingers and thighs. Bucky will never fail to take his breath away, to make his dick hard, and if Steve witnesses Bucky accept yet another compliment from another partygoer like the way he is now, he’s going to fucking explode. 

Look at how his Bunny glows. 

The man who shakes Bucky’s hand stands a bit too close to him for Steve’s liking, but he makes no move to head in their direction. He trusts Bucky and he’s only a few strides away from them anyway. When a hand comes down to gently grasp Bucky’s forearm in conversation and when Bucky’s blush is visible from here, Steve almost smiles. So transparent. Steve adores that about his Bunny, how he can always tell what’s on his mind, how there’s no hiding from Daddy. 

He brings the bottle in his hand up to his lips, takes a swig of it as he watches on. 

This man is obviously hitting on Bucky somehow, which Steve has to admit is bold. He must not know Bucky very well, must not have been privy to the way he and Bunny rarely wander outside of reach from one another. Yeah, that’s it; this kid just isn’t observant. Steve reminds himself of that once more when the stranger doesn’t drop his hand from Bucky’s arm as he continues talking. Steve downs the last of his beer, places it loudly onto the kitchen counter. 

He doesn’t like this feeling in his chest, this foriegn emotion of such caged possessiveness, the urge to claim. Bucky is his, he belongs to Bucky; never will he doubt that. It doesn’t stop his heightened attention, his urge to shake this stranger’s hand from his partner’s body.

But then Bucky is doing just that, much more politely than Steve would have. He looks up over at Steve, easily finding him without needing to look around, giving him a soft, knowing smile. Bucky is apparently not the only one that is transparent. 

He then gestures towards Steve, points at him. My boyfriend, are the words that Steve thinks he sees Bucky’s lips form, and just like that the foreign feeling of possessiveness melts away and molds into something different—

Lust. 

Pure, unadulterated lust. 

This feels good in Steve’s chest, burns pleasantly as he watches the man look in Steve’s direction and begin to apologize. Bucky brushes his mistake off, is graceful yet again, and that’s it for Steve. He’s crossing the room in a few strides, saddling up close to his Bun with his cock throbbing against the zipper of his jeans and his insides screaming for joy that this beautiful man just so easily and publicly staked his claim on Steve himself. 

“Steve, this is Brett. He—“

Steve barely looks at Brett and nods at him, gives him a curt, “How’s it goin’?” without waiting for an answer. He ensures Bucky’s hands are empty by placing the cup that is in his grasp on the counter, meets Bucky’s confused gaze with a wink before he’s bending and tossing his Bunny right over his shoulder. The copious amount of beer he’s had could be to blame for the brazen, neanderthal kind of move, but Steve wouldn’t deny someone who blamed each possessive, provider, Daddy bone in his body. 

And bless his beautiful heart, Bucky’s first reaction once he’s over Steve’s shoulder is to giggle. 

“God, I love you, Bun.” 

“Steve, we can’t leave yet. We’re—” 

“Not leavin’ yet, baby. Natasha!” 

Steve works his way through each room, Bucky tossed over his broad shoulder, until he finds a hallway. A hallway inevitably leads to more bedrooms and Steve needs a bedroom for what he wants to do to his Bunny. 

“Nat!” 

“Steve! What are you doing! People are looking!” Bucky shouts, hands swatting at Steve’s backside, his ass. Steve chuckles knowingly, slaps his own hand up and over Bucky’s own plump rear end. 

“As if you don’t want people to see your Daddy toss you over his shoulder, honey. You hush. Natasha!” 

He finds her in the living room amongst a large group of party goers who are playing flip cup, a game Steve hadn’t played before tonight but was rather good at. She doesn’t look surprised in the slightest that Bucky is over his shoulder and, for some reason, he feels a bit proud of that.

“Bedroom?” Steve practically grunts. She immediately squints her eyes at him. Bucky pinches his ass once more.

“Steve…” 

He starts to back away, unable to wait any longer, steps slow but pointed. Gone is his brain and in its place is the dig of his cock against his zipper. 

“Natasha. Bedroom.” 

“Steve, you aren’t about to—” 

“I am,” he states pointedly, turning around in the direction of the hallway. “Tell me a room, woman. Or I’ll go out of my way to find yours!” 

“Steven Grant! Nat, he won’t do that, he—” 

“Second door on the left. You better clean up after yourselves, you animals!” 

He doesn’t even bother turning on a light; he closes the door behind them, marches up to the bed, and tosses his Bunny down onto it. He can tell right away that Bucky is a bit miffed, huffing at such treatment, but Steve knows that bite in his mood is smoothed out when Steve crawls over him nice and slow, predatorily. His lips press into as many sweet bits and pieces of his Bun as he can reach, sucking on the skin over his Adam's apple, nipping at his chin. 

When he reaches Bucky’s lips, he can’t help but moan, tongue running against the corner of his mouth. Feeling Bucky open up for him, his legs and his mouth and his heart, has him damn near purring in an instant. 

“You’re impossible, you know that?” Bucky mumbles between kisses, his body responding to its Daddy by sending his fingers up and through Steve’s hair, his hips naturally rolling against Steve’s erection. “Just…just out here throwing me over your shoulder at a party, Steve? Really?” 

“Yes, really,” Steve rumbles, emphasizing his words with a punch of his hips, drinking in Bucky’s blessedly sugary noises as his back arches beautifully into Steve’s burlier body. He can feel how hard his Bunny is beneath him, how stiff his dick is, and his mouth waters at the heady sensation of him being the reason Bucky is so hard. 

“Seeing you like this, Bun, seeing you out there being the center of attention like you deserve…god, sweetheart.”

Steve can’t finish verbalizing his thoughts for the younger man, that tightness in his chest from earlier returning. He huffs into Bucky’s jaw, whines as he reaches between their bodies for the front of Bucky’s jeans. When Bucky breathes his name, that familiar dreamy edge to his tone, Steve presses his palm against Bucky’s denim clad dick. He strings together whatever thoughts he can manage before his mind is completely submerged with thoughts of pleasing his baby. 

“I just…I need to make you feel good, wanna fuckin’ eat you alive. Lemme make you come, just…come on, Bun— Let Daddy make you feel good.” 

“Fuck, Steve. You…you make me feel good all the time, you don’t need to—” 

“Don’t gimme that shit,” Steve warns, finally able to unbutton Bucky’s jeans, shoving at the waistband of them impatiently. “Daddy knows what he wants and he wants his Bunny squealing. Now roll over, I’ll make it quick for you.” 

There isn’t a sweeter sight than Bucky’s bare peach of an ass. It’s thick and juicy and unfairly round and Steve throws a proper fit if his mouth isn’t on it somehow every single goddamn day.

He doesn’t bother to take Bucky’s shoes or jeans off; he shoves his pants to his ankles and drops to his knees next to the bed in the process. He gives his briefs the same treatment, but not before pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to Bucky’s dick over the material of them, inhaling and then growling throatily. He knows how much Bun likes the deep noises he makes, how much they make him ache, so he lets out another one as he digs his teeth into the inside of one of his thighs. 

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Bucky all but moans, neck flushed and so pretty when he lets his head fall back onto the made bed. It could be blamed on the copious amounts of liquor he’s indulged in tonight, but Steve would like to think he has this great of an effect on his baby. 

“Yes you can,” is all Steve says, squeezing tightly at Bucky’s hips, pulling at them as he gives himself a few seconds to take in the sight of his future meal. He leans forward with yet another hungry noise, takes the pretty pink tip of Bucky’s dick between his lips, slurps at it happily. The placement of their bodies is awkward given the rushed nature of their time in this bedroom and Steve’s impatience, and it’s only a few seconds of suction before Steve is grabbing and flipping Bucky onto his front. 

Bucky moans like a slut, throaty and happy, as he always does when Daddy tosses him around and where he damn well pleases. That ache in his chest grows when he hears it, when he watches Bucky stretch out along the bed in a way that is all things feline and sensual. 

This boy is in his element. Steve did this. 

His dick is harder than steel in his pants. 

He brings a hand down onto one of Bucky’s ass cheeks tightly, watches as it jiggles and then smacks the opposite one, digs his fingers into the cushion there. 

“Show Daddy what he wants to see, c’mon,” Steve mumbles almost distractedly, pulling on the meat of Bucky’s hips eagerly. “That’s it, show Daddy where you want kisses.” He expects Bucky to tip onto all fours, for him to raise his backside up right to Daddy’s mouth, but the air is sucked right from his lungs when Bucky reaches back and spreads himself wide. 

Goddamnit. 

Pretty and pink and bare just like Bucky likes, just like Steve in turn adores. Steve’s mouth waters just looking at his boy’s pussy, his tight little asshole and his perfect set of balls. The way Bunny presents himself feels like an offering, temptation at its finest. But then Bucky is moving, arching his back and wiggling into position for a moment, before he’s in the most decadent and vulnerable of positions for Steve to enjoy. 

Steve is in love. 

“Make it messy, Daddy,” Bucky whines where he lays. 

Fuck, he’s so in love. 

Steve wastes no time. With a happy Daddy noise he dives in, pressing wet kiss after wet kiss to Bucky’s asshole, to his taint, down the seam of his balls. He kisses Bucky’s pussy in the way he’s been wanting to neck in a dark corner of this party all night long: open-mouthed and deep and filthy. He french kisses the little hole he’s going to fuck later as if he’s going to walk out of this room after this and drop dead, never getting the chance to do so again. 

Bucky writhes where he lays, hands still holding his ass open for Daddy as he squeals. Steve takes over in an instant, shoving the younger’s hands away and cracking his palm across the meat of Bucky’s ass so he can feel it shake against his face. He squeezes and slaps and purrs against the skin of Bunny’s ass, against his pussy, his beard growing wetter by the second thanks to his enthusiasm. 

“Steve…Daddy, feels so good,” Bucky slurs, words sounding luxurious, and Steve purrs, slick kisses turning into ones with suction, sucking at Bunny’s rim in the exact way that makes his toes curl. Bucky’s appreciative moan goes right to Steve’s dick, his own purr turning into a moan as well, one he makes sure to press into the hot skin of Bucky’s sac. He stops to slurp one of Bunny’s balls into his mouth, first one and then the other, lapping at his sac until Bucky’s noises begin to get breathier and shorter. 

“You already close to comin’ and I’ve only had my mouth on you for two minutes?” Steve intends to chide, but his voice comes out laced with awe and appreciation. 

“You weren’t joking when you…fuck, when you said you’d make it quick. It just feels too fuckin’ good, Daddy. Suck on my balls again, gimme kisses again…” 

Bunny could ask Steve to do anything in that pouty, spoiled tone of voice and Daddy would do it without thought. He does exactly as Bucky asks, mouthing and lapping at Bucky’s heavy balls, giving each of them the treatment they deserve. He pulls at each of them, slurps around his mouthful and hums so that there’s no doubt in Bucky’s mind that Steve wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than between his legs. 

His baby needs more though, he knows this, sees it. Bunny hangs heavy between his legs, his prick leaking and angry, ignored. He tries to rub his thighs together while still keeping himself open for Daddy’s hungry mouth, but he’s getting more and more frustrated by the second, huffing and whimpering. 

Steve coos into his kisses, into the swirls of his tongue back up and around Bucky’s rim, when he reaches an arm around Bucky’s waist and closes a fist around his dick. 

Bucky’s squeal is loud enough to remind Steve that they’re at a party, that even though each and every partygoer is aware that Steve pulled Bucky away from the group, it doesn’t mean he needs to drag this moment out. He brings his palm back around and spits into it before returning it to Bucky’s dick. He smears the spit around, gets him good and wet before he begins to jerk Bunny off with enthusiasm, the end goal in mind. 

He flicks his wrist expertly around the tip of Bucky’s dick, earnestly strokes him from root to tip again and again, finding the rhythm of his hand in time with his mouth. He hears himself making noises, deep animalistic ones, ones that are laced with pure pleasure as he eats at Bucky’s ass and jerks him off at the same time. He can barely hear those noises over Bucky’s own though, and he pulls his head back in order to pause and appreciate them more. 

He did that. He is turning his baby into a stupid, stuttering mess. He is the one that has the honor of licking Bucky’s boy pussy, of sucking on his balls, of fisting his dick. He’s watched him be fawned over all night long, has watched him receive well deserved attention. This is his baby. No one can do this to his Bunny but him. 

He growls.

“I’m gonna fuck this hole later,” Steve tells him matter-of-factly, almost sounding distracted as he rubs his thumb around his puffy rim, pressing it in. “I fucked it this morning when I woke up and I’m gonna fuck it again before I go to sleep tonight.” 

His groan is one he feels in his toes as he watches his Bunny’s tiny hole suck him right in, transfixed, and he can’t help but lean forward with a hum and press kisses around his digit. 

“But Daddy, wan’it now. Fuck me now,” Bucky pouts beautifully and for a moment, Steve almost considers making that happen. But he can still hear the music coming from the other side of the door and he’s reminded they aren’t in their own home. He remembers that this is a party for Bucky and he’s taken the Guest of Honor away in order to eat him out. 

He tightens his fist around Bucky’s dick, jerks him off without holding back to distract him from his neediness, his wants. He slurps around Bucky’s rim, removes his thumb before replacing it with his tongue, fucking it in and out of his needy hole.

“No honey, no. When Daddy comes…when Daddy drops his load in this sweet, sweet pussy, he wants it to be a fuckin’ big one. He wants his load to be one you deserve, sugar, one worthy enough of wettin’ you all up inside. Want my balls to ache for you, want—” 

“Jesus fucking Christ, I’m coming. Daddy, I’m—!” 

“In my mouth, come in my mouth, baby.” 

Steve’s got Bucky flipped onto his back in an instant, swallowing him down to the root and moaning. One hand moves in time with his mouth, the other massages and tugs at a handful of Bucky’s balls. There are hands in his hair then, Bucky tugging at the strands in a way that makes his own achy cock throb. He only has a moment to appreciate the taste of pure Bucky on his tongue before the younger man is sobbing and shooting off down Steve’s throat. 

He can feel the intensity of Bucky’s orgasm in the way he shakes, in the way his hips roll up into Steve’s face slowly. Bunny tends to be someone who is quieter when he comes, more of a wild, feral thing right up to the point of his orgasm. He pants as he spills down Steve’s throat, stomach rippling and thighs trembling as Steve drinks down everything he has to offer, down to the last salty drop. 

Steve pulls back slowly when Bucky is done coming, sucking greedily at the tip of his dick before letting him fall from his mouth and swallowing the last of his come. Bunny is panting where he lays, heaving in deep, irregular breaths.Gorgeous. He bends his head and rests it on Bucky’s stomach, pursing his swollen lips and kissing him there gently. 

“Holy shit, Steve,” Bucky sighs after a moment, letting out a noise that sounds like a giggle. Steve just hums, resists the temptation of crawling up into the bed with Bucky; if he did that, they’d be staying the night, and the hardness of his cock cannot be ignored. 

It takes him but a minute to piece Bucky back together, to pull his briefs and his jeans up his legs. Clean up is minimal, as is discussion, and Steve is grateful for the quiet moment to pull himself together and slip back into party mode, to talk himself into ignoring his own erection. Bucky is only slightly wobbly on his feet when Steve pulls him to the door, chuckling when Bunny somehow finds the crook of Steve’s neck and begins to purr in it, greedy hand grabbing at his still-hard package through his jeans.

Slut. 

“Daddy?” 

“Yeah, baby?” 

Where Steve expects an “I love you” or a joke about pulling Bucky away from his own party, he gets a whisper of, “Can we stop and get McDonalds on the way home? I want fries.” 

Oh yeah— he’s so in love.

[howdoyousleep3]

Rating: Explicit (E) Word Count: ~2K Notable Tags: Forbidden Relationship, Age Difference, Size Kink, Verbal Humiliation, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Crying, Mild Dub Con, Breeding Kink, Mention of Squirting, Possessiveness (!!!), Gaslighting, Light Angst at the End A/N: I've been balls deep in my teddy bear daddy andy thoughts lately and sURprISE they are filthy. I've never dabbled in step-relationships before. Heed the tags as this is a bit darker than I usually write, forbidden relationship aside. Seems like I have a thing for Andy Barber in the back of cars. I hope you enjoy! 🧡 Read here on Ao3.

A heavy downpour of rain batters against the windows of your stepfather’s sleek car, thunder cracks across the darkened sky, and yet the shrill sound of your squeal is in no way dampened. 

“Fuck yeah, that’s right— be as loud as you want out here, little girl. Your mama ain’t here to catch you stuffed with your stepdaddy’s dick, is she?”

You shake your head no vehemently, choke on your sob as Andy’s words bounce around your empty skull like marbles, heavy and demanding, just as his cock is inside of your swollen and overused pussy. Your mother’s husband takes your reaction as an answer to his question and less so as a stark denial of your shared and scandalous predicament, as it was intended.

You’re obviously far past the point of being able to deny what is happening between the two of you though. After all, Andy is balls-deep inside of your trembling body, pounding into you with such ferocity you’re certain the car is rocking in its spot hidden on a backroad.

His chuckle is dark in your ear, against your jaw where he nips at it tightly in response to your outward denial. His mouth doesn’t linger long though, both because of the insistent snapping of his hips between your spread thighs and because he’s reached this point. 

You hate how much you love this point.

“Look what you’ve made me fuckin’ do, sweetheart. Look what you’re makin’ Daddy do,” he whispers against your slack mouth, driving his cock against that sweet little spot inside of you again and again and again. Andy’s so big, his cock so thick, that your breath is shoved from your lungs with a pathetic noise each and every time he slides home. His words make your slippery pussy even more wet, the sound of it getting fucked arguably louder than the noises dripping from your lips. 

It’s your fault, it's always your fault. Andy’s told you that from the very beginning of this affair, gets angry each and every time you’re together in such a forbidden and feral way as this, that you’re the reason you and your stepdad do bad bad things together. 

Your head spins where you’re contorted, the two of you taking up damn near every inch of the backseat, leather sticky with your shared sweat, spit, and slick. Your tears. You’re laid out as best you can be, flat on your back where Andy insists you belong, legs pried apart and indecently spread to accommodate the older man’s burly waist.

“V’got no choice but to give this tiny pussy what it’s been askin’ for when you walk around flauntin’ it, when you walk around just beggin’ for it,” he tells you, dropping his weight down on top of you with a guttural noise, the fingers of both hands delving through your hair and holding tight as he ruts into you. “Daddy’s got no choice, baby. Fuck, you understand right, sugar? You know your Daddy’s got no choice but to give this pussy what it needs to stay happy?”

You mewl, loud and long, noise almost mournful. You tell yourself that you hate yourself, that you’re ashamed of each moment that has led up to this one, of your filthy relationship with your stepfather, but even as you whine and sob as you’re stuffed with the biggest dick you’ve ever had, you nod your head and spread your legs impossibly wider. 

“Daddy’s got no ch-choice,” you hiccup, fingers digging into his denim-clad ass, the muscles underneath your grip straining as he grinds down deep between your legs. Your pussy stretches around his girth, that shameful familiarity making your toes curl, making your eyes fight to roll back. You feel trapped in the best, most delicious and bittersweet way possible, dizzy with dick as Andy holds you down and fucks into you at a relentless pace. 

His sac, his balls, are heavy as they slap against the curve of your ass, the show of such masculinity leaving your femininity no choice but to clench and flutter. The boys on campus could never make you feel this way.

“Yeah, this is a Daddy’s responsibility, isn’t it? You walk around in your tiny fuckin’ dresses and your tiny fuckin’ shorts, shirts showin’ your pretty little tits off, just askin’ for somebody to breed this baby pussy right up,” Andy bites out, breath hot and damp against your lips, fingers tightening in your hair. “But this isn’t just anybody’s job, is it?” 

You know exactly what he wants to hear, know the words he’s trained you to say, but words are hard, are so very hard when you’re damn near overstimulated, damn near delirious, ashamed on top of it all. You don’t dare wait too long to answer though, your first attempt coming out slurred and messy, your second attempt sounding stronger. 

“This is Daddy’s pussy,” you mumble, your voice bouncing with each of the older man’s thrusts, impossible heat rising to your cheeks, an even more impossible twist tightening in your core. “S’Daddy’s job, taking…takin’ care of my pussy.” Andy groans, mouth dropping open as his eyes bounce between your mouth and your bare tits, Andy having yanked the top of your dress down moments before he fucked your mouth in the front seat. He reaches for them then, both hands grabbing and squeezing them in his palms, chin dropping to roughly suck one and then the other nipple into his mouth. 

You lose the battle against the roll of your eyes.

“Nobody feeds this pussy like Daddy does, ain’t that right?” 

“N-nobody, Daddy. No…nobody!” 

Andy growls. 

“You can fall into bed with as many punks as you want while you’re away at school, but they can’t give you what I can. This pussy is greedy, this pussy is needy, a fuckin’ brat. She needs Daddy. She’s always gonna come runnin’ back to Daddy, yeah? Ain’t that right?” 

He’s close. His words alone tell you this, as does the sloppy dig of his hips, his hungry mouth on your nipples forcing you to sob. You hate yourself for how easily you respond, for how easily your pussy responds to his words, his rough treatment close to pulling another orgasm out of you. You tremble underneath him, shake from head to toe as you greedily push your tits up into your stepfather’s hungry mouth. 

You hate that he’s right. 

You hate that you think of him every time you fuck someone at a party or invite someone back to your apartment. You hate that no one makes you come like he does, fucks you like he does, dominates you like he does. He has complete control over your body, almost your mind too, and he knows it. 

You can’t seem to maintain a relationship, can’t bring yourself to date someone, picturing him and yearning for him when you fuck someone. 

And you blame Andy for that. 

But he’d happily take that blame. 

It infuriates you, lights you up from the inside out and pushes you closer towards your orgasm. 

“No, no I—” 

“You what?” he spits, rutting into you sloppily as he growls, pulling your hair back to expose the line of your throat. “You don’t think I own this pussy? You think someone else could claim it? You think you own it?” 

“I don’t, I don’t think—” 

“That’s right— you don’t fucking think. You don’t need to think when you’ve got the tightest, pinkest pussy that needs to be fuckin’ fed by her Daddy every fuckin’ day.” 

You’d like to think that his words aren’t what shove you over the edge, that it’s the press of his cock against your sweet spot, that it’s the way the walls of your pussy remain sensitive from your last orgasm. But as you bite down on your bottom lip to fight the tell of your climax racing through you, you know your orgasm is indeed because of his words and the way they echo with possessiveness and ownership. 

You come apart in an instant, crushing pleasure breaking you down, racing through every last crevice of your body.

His hand is around your throat then, his mouth pressed tightly to yours as he chuckles darkly, as he fucks you through your not-so-secret orgasm. 

“Daddy…!”

“That’s fuckin’ right— this is Daddy’s pussy, little girl. The sooner you learn that the better.”

Your whine is long and drawn out, mournful as you easily give into Andy’s kisses, his tongue, his cock. It’s harder for you to breathe with his own fingers digging into the skin of your neck and with another few pounds of his hips, you’re gasping into his mouth, reaching to wrap your own hand around his wrist. Your pussy sobs, your pussy aches. It’s too much, so much, and you start to tear up and thrash underneath Andy’s body, free hand betraying you as you press it against his ass.

“Fuck, it’s your favorite part, baby,” he pants, hand around your throat not letting up. “Daddy’s ready to come.” 

You might come again, fuck.

“Take your Daddy’s load, pretty girl. Take it all, every last drop. Been savin’ it all for you, milk it outta Daddy’s balls, come on.”

“Oh god, oh god…!”

The angle of the last of Andy’s thrusts are sharp, movement grinding his shaft against your clit to the point of pain, to the point of chaotic sensation. One orgasm seems to roll into the next, the beginning of your stepfather’s climax setting your own impossible one off. Your hand falls from holding his ass and his wrist, your neck goes lax, your eyes roll back into your head. You’re pure feeling, pure sensation, a hole. You love it. You hate how much you love the orgasms your mother’s husband gives you, the way he fucks you, the way he fills you up with his come. 

You don’t realize Andy’s teeth are dug into your shoulder until you come to, head spinning as Andy groans and harshly fucks his hips forward, pressing in tight, too tight. 

“You think about this,” Andy pants into your ear, fingers of one hand stroking along any part of your body he can reach, greedily grabbing and pulling at your tits, your hips, your waist. “You think about this when you’re with anybody else. That the pussy they’re about to enjoy has a Daddy. That they can take your pussy however they want, but at the end of the day, she’s taken.”  

Taken. 

You embrace the fuzziness of your brain, the slowed echo of your thoughts, and don’t think too deeply about his words or his claim on you; that’s not something you wish to think about in this moment or ever. 

Sticky between your thighs, sore already, Andy plants kiss after kiss along your neck as he always does when your time together is coming to a close. But when he goes to pull away, you find yourself wrapping your arms around his back and pulling him into you. You’re surprised when he doesn’t question you or poke fun at you. You both know that leaving to go back to school at the close of the summer is difficult for you, but you both know that you’ll never share feelings like this outloud. 

You’re grateful he doesn’t pull away, grateful that he lets you hold onto him a little longer. 

Of course he knows when you’re finally ready to leave. And in place of the usual filthy comment or direction about what is to happen when you both arrive back home, you’re surprised when he questions, “You’re ready to go home?”

No. 

“Yes.”

Andy sighs into your ear. 

“Let’s go home then.”

[howdoyousleep3]

Rating: Explicit (E) Word Count: ~2.7K Notable Tags: Established Relationship, Secret Relationship, Age Difference, Daddy Kink, Coitus Interuptus, Blowjob, Masturbation, Crying, Coming on Face, Dirty Talk, Authority Kink, Humiliation A/N: Y'all...it had to happen, right? Obviously! And shocker— Senator Rogers has a thing for being caught. Hope you enjoy this one, so sorry it is late! I'm really behind and trying to relax and make sure it doesn't bother me. 🧡 Read here on Ao3.

“Fuck, is there anything better than the inside of your mouth?” he moans luxuriously, unabashed. “That’s rhetorical, sweetheart. Obviously…” 

Obviously, yes. How is Bucky supposed to respond to Senator Rogers’ inquiry with his mouth full of cock? 

Bucky is almost willing to bet that, at this point in…whatever it is he’s involved with the Senator in, that he’s spent more time under this desk than he has sitting opposite it, down here between the senator’s legs instead of across from him and face-to-face. 

When he tries to consider what that fact means to him, he struggles, slips up and stalls the leisurely movement of his lips around the senator’s erection.

Steve’s sigh of disappointment is one Bucky feels in his gut, whimpering as it twists down to his balls.

“Son, I shouldn’t have to tell you to do better; you should always want to be the best for me,” Steve tells him, leaning back to take in the sight of Bucky nestled between his thighs. His dexterous fingers slip through Bucky’s hair, fingertips digging into his scalp. Bucky whines around his mouthful.

“You wanna be the best for me, yes?” 

Unable to answer verbally, he lifts his eyes and finds Steve’s, moans eagerly as he picks up his pace again with renewed vigor, nods his head. How long has he been down here? His jaw is achy and his head is fuzzy. An hour? What time is it? 

The fingers tangled in his hair twist, causing Bucky to whimper, for his mouth to go slack as his eyes fight to not roll back. Steve knows this, knows what touching Bucky’s hair does to him, what it does to him when they’re involved in such intensely sexual situations. He barely has enough mind left to figure out how long he’s been down here. He’s barely got enough energy left to focus on the task at hand, on using his mouth to bring the senator off, to provide stress relief. 

“Then be better. Do better. Come on, kid.” 

It lights a fire under Bucky’s ass. The degradation, the word choice that makes their difference in age glaringly obvious, the way Steve taps his cheek before turning his attention back to whatever is on his computer screen; it makes Bucky want to be memorable, to do better. How does Steve always manage to do that? Bucky would hate him for it if he weren’t getting dicked down so regularly. 

Even with his mind seemingly in another stratosphere, he does thoroughly enjoy sucking dick, and moreso he arguably has an unhealthy obsession with Steve’s cock. The girth of him, the way the older man is just a bit too big all over, his pretty tip, the weight of his balls — Steve has an unfairly perfect package. 

Bucky slurps happily around his mouthful, his hand coming up to reach the places his lips can’t. He inhales slowly, takes in the musk that is so very Senator Rogers, suctions his mouth perfectly and lets Steve’s cock slide easily to the back of his throat. He’s gotten quite good at this. He’s immediately rewarded with a grunt, a satisfied sigh, that goes right to Bucky’s balls. It makes him want to do that again just to get the same reaction out of Steve. 

He pulls his lips back, slurps because he knows Steve is keen on hearing his mouth work, repeats the movement a few times. Bucky is a slut for the way Steve fills his mouth up, for the way he slips along the flat of his tongue, for the way he presses against the back of his throat. It’s hypnotic almost, sends him out of his head and into this soft place where the sensations inside of his mouth are the only thing he can seem to focus on. 

Steve lets out a small groan, bites it off with a small tilt of his hips. Pride swells in Bucky’s chest at the thought that he’s about to make Senator Rogers come. It never fails, each and every time, that he recognizes his privilege, how lucky he is to be the one down here on his knees with drool on his chin and Steve’s cock down his throat. 

He doubles his efforts, throws his all into the strokes of his tight fist and the slick suction his lips provide the older man. 

“Make me come,” Steve tells him, his voice all but a whisper, spreading his thighs where he—

“Rogers, this came across my desk and I thought it might be more up your alley. Maybe we could team up on—” 

Bucky hears the voice but it doesn’t process immediately. He’s quickly shoved back under Steve’s desk by a rough push at his chest, enough of a movement to knock him down onto his ass. The senator then frantically rolls his chair under the desk with Bucky, his legs and torso and exposed dick concealed by the desk. Steve’s thighs bracket Bucky on both sides, firm and protective.

Bucky’s heart kicks up into his throat. He can’t catch a proper breath, a lump growing in his chest with each meager attempt. 

Someone…someone is in Steve’s office? Someone walked in on them.

He didn’t lock the door. 

Was he supposed to lock the door? 

He was sucking Steve off and someone walked into his office. Did they see them? 

Holy fuck.

“— know Rumlow is going to dig his teeth into this too and that alone is tempting me to head the issue. I hate that fucking guy. I…what’s wrong with you?” 

Bucky’s hands start to shake. He’d know that voice from anywhere, has learned to stand attention when he hears it—

Senator Romanoff.

Holy fuck. 

“Nothing,” Steve replies, sounding as casual and nonchalant as someone who wasn’t just about to blow their load down someone else’s throat sounds when asked if something is wrong. Bucky’s breathing too loudly, confident that the way he pants can be heard from every point in this office. 

“Not nothing,” Senator Romanoff quickly responds with, voice verging on the edge of chiding, curiosity very present. “Something is wrong with you. What is it?” 

Bucky feels the senator’s leg start to move against his arm, Steve bouncing his heel in the way he does when he’s agitated. It’s casual to others but it’s something that Bucky has easily picked up on over time. Should he make an attempt to console the senator while he’s down here, put his hand on his thigh? Is that a stupid idea? Would it help him even if it didn’t Steve? 

He’s on the verge of a breakdown and he needs to find something to calm himself immediately. 

“Nothing is wrong with me, Romanoff. I’m busy and it’s late and here you are wanting to add something to my plate by barging into my office.” 

While shock is the emotion that Bucky feels the most in this moment, he can’t help but be impressed by how calm Steve sounds. If Bucky were in Senator Romanoff’s shoes right now, issue literally in hand and coming to Rogers’ office to console and scheme, he wouldn’t be suspicious whatsoever, wouldn’t think there’s someone under the senator’s desk, let alone an intern whose mouth was being fucked mere seconds before. 

The silence in the air is heavy, as if Senator Romanoff doesn’t believe a word Steve is saying. If anyone could see through his shit, it would be her, which makes her the worst person that could have ever caught them doing something so illicit. Bucky can’t see their faces from where he hides, can’t read any emotions or conversations that are happening without words. He focuses on remaining as still as possible, as quiet as he can be. There’s still hope that they haven’t been caught.

When it’s clear that it seems Natasha is going to get nowhere pressing the issue, she proceeds to reel Steve into a conversation about getting on board with tackling a current hot button topic.

Bucky doesn’t hear what it is over the ringing in his ears, the sound of his own breathing heavy as well. He closes his eyes, retreats into his mind for only a moment and attempts to find any piece of comfort he can. He needs much more of a level head than what he has now, but he’s never felt more exposed in his life; he’s on shaky ground. 

Steve’s answers are short. It’s obvious to anyone that he doesn’t want to be having this conversation with Senator Romanoff. It’s over in a few minutes, Bucky pulling himself back to the present just in time for Steve to make a comment about reaching out to his secretary and maybe introducing her proposed idea to his group of interns. Bucky can hear the click of her heels from here, the way they are confident, even on the carpet. He hears the door open and waits for it to close. 

“Have a good night, Natasha,” Steve tells her, beginning to type on his laptop almost immediately, and Bucky could cry tears of joy. That is until Senator Romanoff doesn’t respond.

She pauses suspiciously then, purposefully filling the air of the office with dreaded anticipation. Steve can sense it too, his thighs tense under Bucky’s palms, so close to being rid of her, so close to being in the clear. Bucky holds his breath.  

“Tell that pretty thing under your desk to come to my office when you’re done with them. I promise I’ll hand them back over intact, Rogers.”

Fuck. 

Holy shit.

Tears well up in Bucky’s eyes immediately. He shakes all over as he fights off a sob. He presses his palm against his mouth.

This is it. This is the moment that is always in the back of Bucky’s mind, has somehow shifted away from the forefront over time with each and every uninterrupted secret encounter. This will break Steve, will break them. Will he graduate? What will his parents think? Fuck, will Steve even be able to continue on as a state senator? Surely there is a rule against this somewhere. Fuck! Why doesn’t he know this? 

The last thing that crosses Bucky’s mind before the senator speaks up is whether or not he’ll have another intimate moment with Steve ever again. 

“Have a good night, Natasha,” is what he hears Steve say, voice unwavering and solid, full of strength and calmness. Incredible. Bucky is falling apart at the seams where he sits under the senator’s desk, chest heaving as he breathes heavily through his nose and wonders what direction this will shift his life in, and Steve is sending Senator Romanoff on her way like she didn’t just expose their affair.

How did she see him? 

This is all his fault. 

Bucky is hiccuping when Steve pulls him out from under the desk, a strong hand gripping his nape damn near yanking him out of hiding. He goes to apologize, babbles about the door and how it’s all his fault, question after question spilling out of his mouth, but the senator silences him with a curt, “Shut up.” 

And then he’s standing and fisting his cock. 

Bucky watches on from his place on his knees, baffled, as the Senator stands over him and starts to furiously jerk himself off. 

It’s the last thing Bucky expects to be happening after what just occurred. 

“Fuck, you look so fuckin’ cute when you cry,” is what he hears Steve whisper, almost flinching at the compliment as it hits his ears, those words not ones Bucky expects whatsoever. He sniffles as Steve swipes his thumb along Bucky’s damp cheek, groans when his fingers pass Bucky’s bottom lip. He watches through a haze as that same hand reaches down to tug on the senator’s balls, squeezing and pulling. 

Had what just transpired not been reality?

“Open your mouth,” Steve grits out through his clenched teeth. 

“Steve, what—” 

“Open your mouth,” Steve warns, hating when he has to repeat himself. “Swallow it all.”

Bucky can’t remember a time when he’s seen Steve frantic, but he can’t think of another word to describe how much effort he puts into fucking his hand. Bucky’s head is very much in the moment before this point and he can’t process how Steve could possibly want to get off after it.

His heart is still hammering against his ribs, his chest heaves. There are tears slipping down his cheeks, for Christ's sake. Yet here Steve is huffing and fucking his fist, obviously wanting to come in Bucky’s mouth. 

Bucky doesn’t know how to feel. 

He barely opens his mouth in time. With a grunt of, “Squeeze my balls,” that Bucky miraculously listens to, the senator is using his newly freed hand to fist it through Bucky’s hair. He tips his head up, sticks his tongue out, and the first spurt of hot come splashes across his half-open mouth. It startles Bucky and he gasps at the sensation, at how achy it makes him and the rapid pace at which it does so, arousal dropping like a stone into his belly. 

Steve doesn’t hold back, his noises loud and guttural, the way he holds Bucky’s neck arched damn near brutal. He paints his come across Bucky’s cheeks, over his tears, feeds it to him, hot and heavy between his lips and on his tongue.

Bucky’s never seen his actions be so frantic, yes, but he also looks it too, with his flushed cheeks and his jaw dropped as he watches, veins in his forearm wildly present. The image hits Bucky directly in the dick again, makes him harder than steel in an instant. It leaves him whining, opening his mouth wider, a feeling of distraught eagerness chasing Steve’s own. 

By the time the senator has wrung his orgasm out of himself, Bucky is sure he looks a mess. He swallows his mouthful loudly, first once and then twice, squeezes at Steve’s heavy sac. The taste of the senator on his tongue leaves him somehow hungry, making him regret how unpresent he had been for this orgasm. He swallowed Steve’s load and barely savored it, didn’t get to have the older man’ cock in his mouth at all.

He whimpers as he suckles on the tip of Steve’s cock, massages his balls as if that will pull more come out and into his mouth. The senator watches him as he pants, heavy eyelids, arms by his sides. When he thinks back on this moment he’s sure he will be mortified, but right now he’s more than sad that he wasn’t fully present for Steve’s orgasm. 

And then he’s reminded of why every ounce of his attention wasn’t focused on the senator’s climax. 

“Steve…” 

The older man shakes his head, waves his hand before bringing his fingers down to Bucky’s face. 

“Buck, don’t worry about that,” he murmurs distractedly, swiping his digits through the bits of come on Bucky’s face, feeding it to him. What a ridiculous thing to say to him. His heart begins to beat heavily against his chest once more and he whines as he sucks Steve’s fingers clean again and again. It’s almost soothing. Almost.

“Daddy…but she knows. She knows about us, she’ll…oh my god, how are we—” 

The senator’s hand grips his chin hard. 

“Baby, look at me. It’s fine. She never saw you. She didn’t notice that my pants were open because I was under my desk. She couldn’t see under the desk because it goes to the floor. I never confirmed to her that anyone was under my desk, let alone that you were that person. It’s scary, yes, a reminder, yes. But we’re okay.” 

Bucky melts upon hearing Steve’s words. Each point that Steve makes eases the ache in his chest further and further until the senator’s hand is the only thing holding him up. He isn’t sure if these points are valid enough to send his worries away for good, but he believes them coming out of Daddy’s mouth right now. 

“And if she somehow does know it’s you, I’ll take care of it for you. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” 

Bucky doesn’t want to say what’s on his mind, that he’s more worried about them than he is himself. 

He’ll have to sort those thoughts out by himself later. 

“Why don’t you go clean yourself off and come back out here while I finish up some things? We still have your punishment to sort out.” 

Bucky stutters on his way up from the floor. 

“Punish…punishment?” 

The senator chuckles as he takes a seat at his desk, looking as professional and put together as possible. Bucky swallows.“Oh sugar, of course— you forgot to lock the door.”

[howdoyousleep3]

Posting far too early in hopes that hype and excitement gimme that strong start but…

Who’s ready to get kinky? 😈🖤

Specific pairings for each kink to be shared later for when I will surely need another boost of spirits. 😅 Some kinks/prompts I have carried over from last year since I didn’t finish all of them from 2021. I’m wildly stoked though! Proper stories! 🥹 Any guesses as to which pairings/characters belong with which kinks??

Much lub to my main squeezes: @slothspaghettiwrites @maddiewritesstucky @rainbowsandcoconut @musette22 @babyyhoneyydarling @christywantspizza @baseballbatbucky and @sheetsforwhichimmade

[maddiewritesstucky]

This cannot possibly be real.  

This is just...this could be the product of concussion. They probably never won the game at all - Steve’s probably laid out in the middle of the field right now, surrounded by medics ‘cause he got sacked so bad his brain’s having to fire off hyper-realistic porn scenarios just to give him something to live for.  

The intern is sucking on his bottom lip like it’s a fucking gummy candy, humming a happy little sound like it’s some kinda treat for him that Steve’s just said yes to a blow job, and the Senator - the goddamn Senator -  is the playmaker of it all.

Fuck, Steve might be dead.

—Crossover coming October—

Get to know my Jocks and K’s Senator 🤍 Find K’s teaser here

[howdoyousleep3]

“It isn’t always this sweet, but…” he starts, voice tipping low, and Bucky knows at this point what that voice means, the attention it deserves. He looks over his shoulder at his Daddy as the Senator finishes, “…there sure are some perks involved.”

Bucky aches. He’s got this college athlete’s hands on his body, his lips, yet he has to fight against the urge to scramble and crawl back across this office to kiss at his Daddy’s shoes. He whines, the noise growing when Steve is the one to turn his cheek and press his lips hungrily to Bucky’s own. He doesn’t take his eyes off his Daddy as this other boy kisses his lips.

Crossover coming in October! 🏈 🇺🇸

read senator & intern here 💙 read JockVerse here 💙 read Maddie's teaser here

[howdoyousleep3]

me: *has a big 'ol MTH fic to write, a hefty promised Senator/Intern series, multiple unfinished fics, thought up this big w/w age difference summer whirlwind romance through a daydream last night*

me:...should we...should we start thinking about Kinktober 2022?

[howdoyousleep3]

‘Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend's Dad Steve’

…

OMG OMG OMG

This is SUCH a secret kink of mine and you’re writing itttt?????

🫠🫠🫠🥵🥵 💦 🚬

Oh god, okay so @thiccbuckybarnesfic and I had this whole idea for a fic and had some written out and a whole outline for the Silver Steve Bang but then life happened (and the beans came around lol) and we decided to drop and move on from it. BUT wow bringing it back for Kinktober! With Cass' permission I'm going to try to bring this blubbering stammering boy toy Bucky and big intimidating girlfriend's dad Daddy man Steve to life!

[howdoyousleep3]

The way this has not left my brain since I first saw it 😅

Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about her. I didn't write much, but...?

On Fridays she spoils you. 

You’re not sure if she’s aware of the ritual, this newfound routine, but she’s the most clever person you know; she has to be aware of what’s unfolded over time. 

There are some nights she has you read her emails for her. She has you feed her bits and pieces of food as you read off requests for meetings from fellow senators, those in the public sector, information being passed along of what people think are worthy causes for her attention. Her hands and her mouth inevitably wander, purposeful touches making it more and more difficult for you to work through your tasks, given to you by none other than her. 

“Darling, you must focus. I don’t have time to spare on fuck-ups and this stuttering and stalling nonsense. Please do better for me.”

She likes making things difficult for you.

🥵 Golly jeepers...