He had his hand on her hip, leaning in. She was giggling at whatever bullshit he was feeding her. You swore the bottle in your hand would crack under the grip you had on it. "You okay, baby?," your boyfriend's voice cut through your thoughts. "Yeah, I'm good," you lied, giving him your best smile.
Fake it til you make it, right?
You shot Bucky a glance on your way to the ladies, and you heard him excuse himself. About fucking time. His hands found your hips in the darkness, pushing you gently against the wall.
The smell of whiskey on his breath made you weak. His hand was down your pants and the other against your neck. "God, I gotta have you. Wanna fuck you right here. I don't give a shit if we get caught."
"You've been avoiding me for three months," you retort, biting back a moan. Anyone walking by could hear you. "You know I can never stay away, sweetheart. You're mine, aren't you? You know I need it."
His expert fingers found your wet folds and he groaned lewdly. "Don't let him stay over tonight," he breathed against your neck, circling your clit slowly. You shook your head, you wouldn't give in.
Three fucking months.
"Then promise me something? Don't let him fuck you tonight, Y/N. Don't let him touch you. I want you willing and aching for my dick when I show up tomorrow. Can you do that for me? Not let him touch that pretty little pussy?" You agreed. It would be worth it. Bucky would provide.
He always did.
"You gonna walk outta here with a hard dick?," you teased and he chuckled under his breath. "You know I'm gonna go home and fuck my fist for you, don't you? That I'm gonna be moaning your name when I come?" God, his words made you absolutely soaked. Weak in the knees. He had you.
He hooked you.
****
"Fuckin' hell," he groaned when you opened the door. Completely bare for him, nothing but a smile. He slammed the door behind him and shoved you against it. His fingers found your wetness, swirling it around, making a mess. You didn't care, it was all over the minute he looked at you. Always under Bucky's spell.
"I'm desperate to fuck you, baby."
"Let's go to the bedroom, hmm? Finger fuck you til you're coming all over my hand. Then I'll fuck that pretty pussy. And for the grand finale, I'll tear up that tight ass."
He have his way with you. You'd always give in. You needed it. Had to have it. Your obsession was growing out of hand. There'd be a breaking point soon. There had to be. One of you would cave eventually. It was too much. Too intense.
It would burn out if you weren't careful.
****
"Stay on your knees."
You shook your head, legs already threatening to give out, but he growled in response. "You'll do what you're told," he commanded, shoving his fingers back into your aching cunt, curling them just right, making you grip his shoulders and cry out.
"Who's are you?," he whispered, his gaze intense. "Yours, Bucky. I'm yours." He grinned, twisting his wrist, "you're god damned right. You're all mine."
God, how in the hell did he do it?
As soon as you came, he pushed you to the mattress, stripping his clothes and tossed them somewhere in the corner of the bedroom. He wrapped your legs around his waist and fucked into you. Deep, slow, sensual. "Who fucks you like I do?"
"No one, Bucky. No one comes close."
"Mine. You're my girl. He'll never give you what I do."
He was right and it drove you crazy. Matt could never give you what Bucky was giving you. He could never make you feel like this. It was...different with him. Not bad different, just different. Not rough, not intense. He didn't leave you feeling his cock for days like Bucky did.
You came again, loud enough that you knew it would piss off the neighbors. Again. Oh well. He laid you on your side once he's worked your ass open enough for him, slowly pushing in against the tight ring. "Mine," he whispers in your ear. "Yours," you reply, pushing back against him, his cock thrusting in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, sure to drive you completely insane.
You ached in the best way, hand clutching the sheets. He was panting in your ear. He was hesitant, holding back. Unsure why? What's he hiding? He wasn't giving it to you the way he normally did. Desperate. Needy. Primal and feral. With absolute fire. Pain and pleasure. A drive, something animalistic. But this, this was different.
Strange.
He came with a shout, his arms holding you tightly against his sweaty chest. You could feel his heart racing. His heavy breath in your ear. "You did so good," he praised, "such a good, good girl for me. Always take me so well. You take Daddy's cock so well, babygirl."
His words always affected you. Something deep down inside your chest, the darkest recesses of your mind. Like he really did care, like maybe like he loved you. Like you weren't just a good fuck to him. Part of you ached for that, for him to feel that way.
Like you were something to him.
****
You lay together for awhile in silence. "End it," he whispered, making your heart stop. What did that mean? Did he want you? "He's going to propose, Bucky," you admit, your heart aching. Could you do it? , His face falls at your confession. Something was broken within him.
"Break up with him. End it, Y/N. I want you".
After awhile he asks you again. It's desperate, his voice is shaking. It breaks you. Your heart clenches. "End it", he begs again, "I'm a desperate man."
He rolls over you, searching your eyes, his blue ones full of love. "Please, you know I can't live without you. I can't. End it with him, sweetheart."
You agree, his words making you weep. He pressed his lips to yours, finally. It's real. Absolutely real.
"Mine."
