Hi, Maddie! I have a sweet, funny thot for you: which perhaps unexpected CE!babe really likes when you kind of baby him/dote on him? Just like kisses and hair pets and maybe some playful cooing or something. Maybe he even acts a little sad or pouty to get that specific kind of attention ๐คญ
ahhhhhh hi siri!! i love this question so much!! (seriously, be prepared for a lot of yapping, i'm so sorry)
predictably, my first thought was steve.
after a long mission, where he had to always be โonโ, always responsible for everyone else, always the stoic soldier, i think heโd absolutely melt under that kind of soft fussing. like, he comes home still wound tight, still carrying the day in his shoulders, and youโre just sat on the sofa watching him try and pretend heโs fine. maybe he gives you that little โiโm okay, honeyโ smile, and maybe you let him get away with it for all of ten seconds before you pat your lap and go, โcโmere, stevie.โ
and oh, the way heโd go. he always goes so easily, like some part of him was waiting for permission to do just that.
youโd card your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp, and youโd feel the tension leave him in stages. heโd be putty in your hands. and all the while youโre telling him how good he is, how proud you are of him, how much you missed him, how much you love him.
because i really don't think steve hears it enough sometimes. people just expect steve to be good, to be steady, to carry it all. because, well, he will. and he won't complain or expect praise, because that's who he is. but thatโs exactly why i think heโd come undone for someone finally taking care of him for once, without expecting anything back.
like, little grateful rumbles in his chest - that youโd absolutely tease him for later - when something feels too good and he doesnโt quite know what to do with it. looking up at you with the biggest, sappiest heart eyes imaginable. one hand catching yours just so he can turn and press a kiss into your palm like he doesnโt even have words for how much he needed that (please steve rogers, let me love youuuu)
however, then i realised your ask said unexpected, and whilst steve does have that stoic exterior, iโm not sure heโs really unexpected because we all know thereโs a tragic yearning softie in there. sooo then my brain went to ransom.
i know, i know. but hear me out; i have reasons. because yes, heโs all claws and bite and โdonโt fucking touch meโ on the outside, but i also think ransom is protecting something very sore and very sensitive underneath. and heโs spent his whole life making sure nobody gets close enough to touch it.ย
in fact, let me whack out my non-existent psychology degree here whilst i psychoanalyse this man. because with his parents, i always imagine it as a deeply, deeply cursed little cocktail of mommy and daddy issues.ย
we know the thromby family is a disaster generally (and thatโs being kind), but specifically his parents? richard gives me emotionally absent father vibes so badly. the type who thinks throwing money at a problem counts as parenting, so as long as ransom was materially comfortable, that was โgood enough.โย
and then linda feels like the opposite end of the scale: driven, exacting, not especially warm, the kind of mother who probably thought pushing him would make him better without realising she was just teaching him that love was conditional on performance. that nothing he did was ever enough.ย
because ransom is clever - heโs lazy by choice, not because heโs stupid - his plan in knives out proves that well enough.
but i can so easily imagine him getting to a point where not trying feels safer than trying and still failing. so i can so easily imagine him reaching a point where he thinks, fine, if iโm going to be a disappointment anyway, thenat least let it be on my terms. and i think thatโs where so much of his meanness comes from. that whole โidgaf, iโll hurt you before you get the chance to hurt meโ attitude.
which also means i think heโd be absolutely starved for soft affection, praise, being fussed overโฆ and completely not know what to do with it.
like he comes back from some awful family dinner already in a mood and feeling sorry for himself. mouth set in that bratty little pout he gets when heโs brooding and wants everyone to know it but would rather die than admit that.
heโs sprawled on the sofa sulking, and you wander over, all sweet, and kiss his mouth once. then his forehead. then his temple. your fingers slide into his hair and you murmur,ย โhey, pretty boy. youโre home now. you can stop pretending to care what they think.โ and heโd scowl, obviously, because heโs ransom, and mutter something like, โiโm not a fucking child, donโt baby me.โ
but then the second you go, โokay then,โ and start to pull your hand away from where itโs been combing through his hair, heโs immediately huffing like, โdidnโt tell you to stop, did i? god.โ as though youโre the difficult one here.ย
and thatโs when you realise that he wants it so badly. he just has no clue how to ask for it without feeling weak. so instead he pouts more. huffs louder. lingers near you in a mood until you decide to pet the grumpy cat back into a tolerable state.
like, i can so see him coming home while youโre in the bath. candles lit, bubbles everywhere, one of those stupidly expensive bath oils he makes fun of you for buying. and he stands in the doorway teasing you for it because he physically cannot help himself. โwhat is this, a fucking spa? jesus christ.โย
but he doesnโt leave. just stands there. sulking. hovering. very much giving ๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ and being annoying in a way that very clearly means pay attention to me. because he wants your touch and comfort so badly. he just doesnโt know how to ask for it like a normal person.
and youโd just roll your eyes and hold your hand out like, โwell? stop lurking and get in then.โ
and despite all the scoffing and eye-rolling, despite how much he acts like heโs above it, heโs stripping off and climbing in with surprisingly little resistance because ransom, in my head, cannot say no to you to save his life. one soft voice, one little look, and heโs done.
he gets in behind you, all grumbling under his breath, and the second you settle back against his chest you feel him start to soften. the tension eases out of him bit by bit. his big arms wraps around your waist. his mouth drifts to your shoulder. maybe there are some bath fingering shenanigans because, come on, this is ransom, heโs touchy and spoilt and always wants his hands on you.
but thereโs also something so dear to me about the softer side of it too. like you smoothing one of your stupid little face masks over his skin while he grumbles the whole time - โif this gives me a rash iโm breaking up with youโ - but never once actually stopping you. and because youโre turned toward him to do it, he is one hundred percent staring at your tits under the bathwater with absolutely no shame.
and eventually you get sleepy, all warm and boneless, and your head drops against him. heโd mutter something like, โoh, great. just pass out on me, why donโt you,โ but he wouldnโt move you. not for ages. heโd just sit there with your weight on him, one hand rubbing your back, quiet for once, enjoying the fact that you trust him enough to sleep there, until the water goes cold and he finally lifts you out to carry you to bed.
so yes. tl:dr my answer is probably ransom.
anyway. iโm gonna stop yapping now but ransom drysdale i love you so much, you are so seen. murder?? what murderrrr. i could fix him your honour, just one chance. i have such a painfully specific version of ransom built in my head so thank you siri for giving me an excuse to let him out ๐ญ
because i really don't think steve hears it enough sometimes. people just expect steve to be good, to be steady, to carry it all. because, well, he will. and he won't complain or expect praise, because that's who he is. but thatโs exactly why i think heโd come undone for someone finally taking care of him for once, without expecting anything back.
Yes! Please! Someone take care of this wonderful man!! (and let it be me) He truly deserves soft fondness and caretaking!
but Ransom!
I also love that for him!
lingers near you in a mood until you decide to pet the grumpy cat back into a tolerable state.
and
he doesnโt leave. just stands there. sulking. hovering. very much giving ๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ and being annoying in a way that very clearly means pay attention to me.
I'm giggling so much! But it's all spot on and feels so Ransom!
hehehe aspen, thank you so much for this reblog and your comments, i loved reading them!! you saying that what i said feels so ransom has me smiling so wide bc i have such a specific version of that man built in my head, so itโs so nice to know that others think it seems like him!!! <33
Hi, Maddie! I have a sweet, funny thot for you: which perhaps unexpected CE!babe really likes when you kind of baby him/dote on him? Just like kisses and hair pets and maybe some playful cooing or something. Maybe he even acts a little sad or pouty to get that specific kind of attention ๐คญ
ahhhhhh hi siri!! i love this question so much!! (seriously, be prepared for a lot of yapping, i'm so sorry)
predictably, my first thought was steve.
after a long mission, where he had to always be โonโ, always responsible for everyone else, always the stoic soldier, i think heโd absolutely melt under that kind of soft fussing. like, he comes home still wound tight, still carrying the day in his shoulders, and youโre just sat on the sofa watching him try and pretend heโs fine. maybe he gives you that little โiโm okay, honeyโ smile, and maybe you let him get away with it for all of ten seconds before you pat your lap and go, โcโmere, stevie.โ
and oh, the way heโd go. he always goes so easily, like some part of him was waiting for permission to do just that.
youโd card your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp, and youโd feel the tension leave him in stages. heโd be putty in your hands. and all the while youโre telling him how good he is, how proud you are of him, how much you missed him, how much you love him.
because i really don't think steve hears it enough sometimes. people just expect steve to be good, to be steady, to carry it all. because, well, he will. and he won't complain or expect praise, because that's who he is. but thatโs exactly why i think heโd come undone for someone finally taking care of him for once, without expecting anything back.
like, little grateful rumbles in his chest - that youโd absolutely tease him for later - when something feels too good and he doesnโt quite know what to do with it. looking up at you with the biggest, sappiest heart eyes imaginable. one hand catching yours just so he can turn and press a kiss into your palm like he doesnโt even have words for how much he needed that (please steve rogers, let me love youuuu)
however, then i realised your ask said unexpected, and whilst steve does have that stoic exterior, iโm not sure heโs really unexpected because we all know thereโs a tragic yearning softie in there. sooo then my brain went to ransom.
i know, i know. but hear me out; i have reasons. because yes, heโs all claws and bite and โdonโt fucking touch meโ on the outside, but i also think ransom is protecting something very sore and very sensitive underneath. and heโs spent his whole life making sure nobody gets close enough to touch it.ย
in fact, let me whack out my non-existent psychology degree here whilst i psychoanalyse this man. because with his parents, i always imagine it as a deeply, deeply cursed little cocktail of mommy and daddy issues.ย
we know the thromby family is a disaster generally (and thatโs being kind), but specifically his parents? richard gives me emotionally absent father vibes so badly. the type who thinks throwing money at a problem counts as parenting, so as long as ransom was materially comfortable, that was โgood enough.โย
and then linda feels like the opposite end of the scale: driven, exacting, not especially warm, the kind of mother who probably thought pushing him would make him better without realising she was just teaching him that love was conditional on performance. that nothing he did was ever enough.ย
because ransom is clever - heโs lazy by choice, not because heโs stupid - his plan in knives out proves that well enough.
but i can so easily imagine him getting to a point where not trying feels safer than trying and still failing. so i can so easily imagine him reaching a point where he thinks, fine, if iโm going to be a disappointment anyway, thenat least let it be on my terms. and i think thatโs where so much of his meanness comes from. that whole โidgaf, iโll hurt you before you get the chance to hurt meโ attitude.
which also means i think heโd be absolutely starved for soft affection, praise, being fussed overโฆ and completely not know what to do with it.
like he comes back from some awful family dinner already in a mood and feeling sorry for himself. mouth set in that bratty little pout he gets when heโs sulking and wants everyone to know it but would rather die than admit that. heโs sprawled on the sofa sulking, and you wander over, all sweet, and kiss his mouth once. then his forehead. then his temple. your fingers slide into his hair and you murmur,ย โhey, pretty boy. youโre home now. you can stop pretending to care what they think.โ and heโd scowl, obviously, because heโs ransom, and mutter something like, โiโm not a fucking child, donโt baby me.โ but then the second you go, โokay then,โ and start to pull your hand away from where itโs been combing through his hair, heโs immediately huffing like, โdidnโt tell you to stop, did i? god.โ as though youโre the difficult one here.ย
and thatโs when you realise that he wants it so badly. he just has no clue how to ask for it without feeling weak. so instead he pouts more. huffs louder. lingers near you in a mood until you decide to pet the grumpy cat back into a tolerable state.
like, i can so see him coming home while youโre in the bath. candles lit, bubbles everywhere, one of those stupidly expensive bath oils he makes fun of you for buying. and he stands in the doorway making fun of you for it because he physically cannot help himself. โwhat is this, a fucking spa? jesus christ.โย
but he doesnโt leave. just stands there. sulking. hovering. very much giving ๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ and being annoying in a way that very clearly means pay attention to me. because he wants your touch and comfort so badly. he just doesnโt know how to ask for it like a normal person.
and youโd just roll your eyes and hold your hand out like, โwell? stop lurking and get in then.โ
and despite all the scoffing and eye-rolling, despite how much he acts like heโs above it, heโs stripping off and climbing in with surprisingly little resistance because ransom, in my head, cannot say no to you to save his life. one soft voice, one little look, and heโs done.
he gets in behind you, all grumbling under his breath, and the second you settle back against his chest you feel him start to soften. the tension eases out of him bit by bit. his big arms wraps around your waist. his mouth drifts to your shoulder. maybe there are some bath fingering shenanigans because, come on, this is ransom, heโs touchy and spoilt and always wants his hands on you.
but thereโs also something so dear to me about the softer side of it too. like you smoothing one of your stupid little face masks over his skin while he grumbles the whole time - โif this gives me a rash iโm breaking up with youโ - but never once actually stopping you. and because youโre turned toward him to do it, he is one hundred percent staring at your tits under the bathwater with absolutely no shame.
and eventually you get sleepy, all warm and boneless, and your head drops against him. heโd mutter something like, โoh, great. just pass out on me, why donโt you,โ but he wouldnโt move you. not for ages. heโd just sit there with your weight on him, one hand rubbing your back, quiet for once, enjoying the fact that you trust him enough to sleep there, until the water goes cold and he finally lifts you out to carry you to bed.
so yes. tl:dr my answer is probably ransom.
anyway. iโm gonna stop yapping now but ransom drysdale i love you so much, you are so seen. murder?? what murderrrr. i could fix him your honour, just one chance. i have such a painfully specific version of ransom built in my head so thank you siri for giving me an excuse to let him out ๐ญ
hey Maddie imma need you to come to the frontโฆ weโve talked abt this and uhโฆ. I need more details on those bath fingering shenanigans you mentioned
PLEASEEEEE just imagine being encompassed in ransomโs massive arms, back against that thick chest, trying to squirm away when it gets too much but having nowhere to go, and heโs just laughing at you, rumbling in your ear โyou can whine all you want, sweetheart. iโm not done playing with you.โ
Hi, Maddie! I have a sweet, funny thot for you: which perhaps unexpected CE!babe really likes when you kind of baby him/dote on him? Just like kisses and hair pets and maybe some playful cooing or something. Maybe he even acts a little sad or pouty to get that specific kind of attention ๐คญ
ahhhhhh hi siri!! i love this question so much!! (seriously, be prepared for a lot of yapping, i'm so sorry)
predictably, my first thought was steve.
after a long mission, where he had to always be โonโ, always responsible for everyone else, always the stoic soldier, i think heโd absolutely melt under that kind of soft fussing. like, he comes home still wound tight, still carrying the day in his shoulders, and youโre just sat on the sofa watching him try and pretend heโs fine. maybe he gives you that little โiโm okay, honeyโ smile, and maybe you let him get away with it for all of ten seconds before you pat your lap and go, โcโmere, stevie.โ
and oh, the way heโd go. he always goes so easily, like some part of him was waiting for permission to do just that.
youโd card your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp, and youโd feel the tension leave him in stages. heโd be putty in your hands. and all the while youโre telling him how good he is, how proud you are of him, how much you missed him, how much you love him.
because i really don't think steve hears it enough sometimes. people just expect steve to be good, to be steady, to carry it all. because, well, he will. and he won't complain or expect praise, because that's who he is. but thatโs exactly why i think heโd come undone for someone finally taking care of him for once, without expecting anything back.
like, little grateful rumbles in his chest - that youโd absolutely tease him for later - when something feels too good and he doesnโt quite know what to do with it. looking up at you with the biggest, sappiest heart eyes imaginable. one hand catching yours just so he can turn and press a kiss into your palm like he doesnโt even have words for how much he needed that (please steve rogers, let me love youuuu)
however, then i realised your ask said unexpected, and whilst steve does have that stoic exterior, iโm not sure heโs really unexpected because we all know thereโs a tragic yearning softie in there. sooo then my brain went to ransom.
i know, i know. but hear me out; i have reasons. because yes, heโs all claws and bite and โdonโt fucking touch meโ on the outside, but i also think ransom is protecting something very sore and very sensitive underneath. and heโs spent his whole life making sure nobody gets close enough to touch it.ย
in fact, let me whack out my non-existent psychology degree here whilst i psychoanalyse this man. because with his parents, i always imagine it as a deeply, deeply cursed little cocktail of mommy and daddy issues.ย
we know the thromby family is a disaster generally (and thatโs being kind), but specifically his parents? richard gives me emotionally absent father vibes so badly. the type who thinks throwing money at a problem counts as parenting, so as long as ransom was materially comfortable, that was โgood enough.โย
and then linda feels like the opposite end of the scale: driven, exacting, not especially warm, the kind of mother who probably thought pushing him would make him better without realising she was just teaching him that love was conditional on performance. that nothing he did was ever enough.ย
because ransom is clever - heโs lazy by choice, not because heโs stupid - his plan in knives out proves that well enough.
but i can so easily imagine him getting to a point where not trying feels safer than trying and still failing. so i can so easily imagine him reaching a point where he thinks, fine, if iโm going to be a disappointment anyway, thenat least let it be on my terms. and i think thatโs where so much of his meanness comes from. that whole โidgaf, iโll hurt you before you get the chance to hurt meโ attitude.
which also means i think heโd be absolutely starved for soft affection, praise, being fussed overโฆ and completely not know what to do with it.
like he comes back from some awful family dinner already in a mood and feeling sorry for himself. mouth set in that bratty little pout he gets when heโs brooding and wants everyone to know it but would rather die than admit that.
heโs sprawled on the sofa sulking, and you wander over, all sweet, and kiss his mouth once. then his forehead. then his temple. your fingers slide into his hair and you murmur,ย โhey, pretty boy. youโre home now. you can stop pretending to care what they think.โ and heโd scowl, obviously, because heโs ransom, and mutter something like, โiโm not a fucking child, donโt baby me.โ
but then the second you go, โokay then,โ and start to pull your hand away from where itโs been combing through his hair, heโs immediately huffing like, โdidnโt tell you to stop, did i? god.โ as though youโre the difficult one here.ย
and thatโs when you realise that he wants it so badly. he just has no clue how to ask for it without feeling weak. so instead he pouts more. huffs louder. lingers near you in a mood until you decide to pet the grumpy cat back into a tolerable state.
like, i can so see him coming home while youโre in the bath. candles lit, bubbles everywhere, one of those stupidly expensive bath oils he makes fun of you for buying. and he stands in the doorway teasing you for it because he physically cannot help himself. โwhat is this, a fucking spa? jesus christ.โย
but he doesnโt leave. just stands there. sulking. hovering. very much giving ๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ and being annoying in a way that very clearly means pay attention to me. because he wants your touch and comfort so badly. he just doesnโt know how to ask for it like a normal person.
and youโd just roll your eyes and hold your hand out like, โwell? stop lurking and get in then.โ
and despite all the scoffing and eye-rolling, despite how much he acts like heโs above it, heโs stripping off and climbing in with surprisingly little resistance because ransom, in my head, cannot say no to you to save his life. one soft voice, one little look, and heโs done.
he gets in behind you, all grumbling under his breath, and the second you settle back against his chest you feel him start to soften. the tension eases out of him bit by bit. his big arms wraps around your waist. his mouth drifts to your shoulder. maybe there are some bath fingering shenanigans because, come on, this is ransom, heโs touchy and spoilt and always wants his hands on you.
but thereโs also something so dear to me about the softer side of it too. like you smoothing one of your stupid little face masks over his skin while he grumbles the whole time - โif this gives me a rash iโm breaking up with youโ - but never once actually stopping you. and because youโre turned toward him to do it, he is one hundred percent staring at your tits under the bathwater with absolutely no shame.
and eventually you get sleepy, all warm and boneless, and your head drops against him. heโd mutter something like, โoh, great. just pass out on me, why donโt you,โ but he wouldnโt move you. not for ages. heโd just sit there with your weight on him, one hand rubbing your back, quiet for once, enjoying the fact that you trust him enough to sleep there, until the water goes cold and he finally lifts you out to carry you to bed.
so yes. tl:dr my answer is probably ransom.
anyway. iโm gonna stop yapping now but ransom drysdale i love you so much, you are so seen. murder?? what murderrrr. i could fix him your honour, just one chance. i have such a painfully specific version of ransom built in my head so thank you siri for giving me an excuse to let him out ๐ญ
because i really don't think steve hears it enough sometimes. people just expect steve to be good, to be steady, to carry it all. because, well, he will. and he won't complain or expect praise, because that's who he is. but thatโs exactly why i think heโd come undone for someone finally taking care of him for once, without expecting anything back.
SHOTS FIRED ๐ญ๐ญ๐ญ๐ญ๐ญ My Steeeeeeb. Let him be fussed over and loved up so hard ๐ค
sooo then my brain went to ransom.
MY CRANKY TROLL SECRET SOFTIE BABY BOI
so i can so easily imagine him reaching a point where he thinks, fine, if iโm going to be a disappointment anyway, thenat least let it be on my terms. and i think thatโs where so much of his meanness comes from. that whole โidgaf, iโll hurt you before you get the chance to hurt meโ attitude.
LET ME LOVE HIM ๐ญ๐ญ๐ญ
This was gold, my good hoe. Every last word. Thank you for blessing us โค๏ธ
i saw an andy barber edit and then i scrolled and immediately saw a matt murdock edit and all i thought was: 2 lawyers + fanfic = maddie
idk i thought of u IMMEDIATELYYY
This isnt even a request i just had to share thoughts ๐ถโ๐ซ๏ธ
(and that other anon is absolutely right with who they correlate ari with, cacw steve, and andy. spot tf onnnnn)
omg anon you are sooooo big brain for putting those two together helllooo???? how has that never crossed my mind before ๐ซช
no because just imagine getting yourself arrested and somehow ending up with matt murdock as your defence lawyer and andy barber as the prosecutor.
like matt is beside you, all calm and reassuring, telling you โdonโt worry, sweetheart, iโm going to take care of youโ. and then andy is across the room in that suit, looking at you like he wants to cross-examine the attitude out of you.
then youโre on the stand, trying to remember what the hell matt coached you to say in your defence, which is incredibly difficult considering most of that โcoachingโ happened with his mouth between your thighs and his voice all soft and smug against your skin, telling you to โfocus, baby, this is importantโ.
and now andy is staring you down and practically eye fucking you with those ridiculous baby blues. in panic, your gaze flicks back to matt, looking for help. but andy of course notices, and murmurs, โdonโt look at him. he canโt save you right now, sweetheart, look at me.โ
suddenly the whole thing stops feeling like a legal issue and starts feeling like two very serious sexy men arguing over who gets to handle you. next thing you know the plea deal is happening behind closed doors mattโs still murmuring that heโs got you, baby, while andyโs loosening his tie and making it very clear he thinks your lawyer has been far too soft on you.
oh my lawwwddd if only lawyers were this sexy irl itโs not fairrrr ๐ฉ๐ฉ๐ฉ
(and hehehe i am still saurrrr giddy about the fact people associate me with ari ๐ค)
โธโธ SUMMARY โ โ as an outlaw, steve rogers has two rules: keep moving, and don't go back. but for you he's broken the second one more times than he can count. he comes when he can, leaves before dawn, and you don't ask what he gets up to in between. until one night it's not just steve at your door, but his partner, bucky barnes, with your outlaw bleeding through his shirt and bounty hunters four days behind them. โ โงฝ 23k
๏ผSMUT, like seriously there is so much smut in this (3 separate scenes lol), dry humping, cock grinding, p in v, fingering, handjob, voyeurism/exhibitionism, masturbation (m), slight pervy!bucky?, oral (m & f receiving), threesome (reader goes to paris!), m/m content, praise kink, hair pulling, soft doms!stucky but lowkey switch!steve!, heavy yearning, three idiots in love, kinda one bed trope?, slow burn, shameless flirt bucky, bisexual awakening!stucky, angst, probably very medically inaccurate wound treatment, probably also historical inaccuracies, frontier/wild west AU, 18+ MDNI
โคท from mads: this is my contribution to the Captain Americana film festival collab for steve's birthday (happy belated birthday stevie!!). i decided to base my fic off the film "butch cassidy and the sundance kid", because the first time i watched this i was just like... oh this is my stucky cowboy AU fr. plus, i thought steve deserved both you and bucky as his birthday present. half of this was written sleep deprived so sorry for any errors ยป cowboy edits of steve and bucky made by me with canva, pinterest and a dream please be kind and don't look too closely xx ยป MASTERLIST
Frontier towns always think they can tell a good man from a bad one.
A good man does honest work with honest hands. A good man comes to church on Sundays. Most importantly, a good man is known - by his name, his family, and his business. In a town like this, familiarity passes easily for virtue. A bad man, then, is the one nobody can place. And the town, never fond of a question, fills it with the worst thing it can imagine.
The law has a simpler system still.ย
One that decrees who is a man and who is aย wanted man.ย It prints the latter on paper and nails it somewhere decent folk can see.ย Ink drawings of men with shadowed eyes and a jaw made harsher by the hand that drew it. Beneath that is the list of wrongs they have done, and a number in dollars that someoneย is willing to pay to see him answer for them.
Fifty dollars for a fool. Five hundred for a danger. Five thousand for a dead man walking.
Women, of course, have their own sorting. Just like bad men, women have a value.ย Only women are rarely granted the dignity of being weighed by their ownย choices. Instead, they too are valued by a bad manโs wrongdoings.ย
What he has done to her. Or what he is rumoured to have done with her. Or what he wanted badly enough to lie about. That is how a town makes its ladies. That is how it makes its whores, too.
There are no other kinds of women.ย Not in this town, or anywhere else for that matter. A third kind would require people to admit women have lives beyond the reach of menโs hands, and no one is in any hurry to go inviting that sort of trouble.
By all accounts, the town had decided kindly on you.ย A credit to the schoolhouse and a blessing to the children you teach. They would say that you are a fine young lady, and that any good man would be lucky to have you.
No good man, so far, has come and asked. Perhaps that should worry you more than it did. After all, a woman could only remain a fine young lady for so long before the title began to sour on her. A woman in your position was expected to want a steady hand, a clean name,and a ring bought with honest wages. A good man, by the townโs binary judgement.
Your heart, unfortunately, had never shown much interest in good men.
So thatโs why tonight, like every other night, your walk home is made alone. Save for the company of crickets keeping up their endless racket, and the watchful hum of a town that likes to sleep with one eye open.
Your skirts hush against the dry grass as you walk further beyond the last few houses, where the town thins to prairie. There waits your little house at the edge of it all, porch sunk crooked in the middle and windows dark as shut eyes. Except the window over the washstand thatโs still open; it never sits quite right in its frame. It swells in the summer heat, shrinks in the winter cold, and no matter the season, refuses to latch unless you lean your weight against it.ย
Youโve been putting off fixing it for months. A respectable man might have fixed it for you by now, had one ever made himself useful.
By the time you step through your front door, the night hasย drawn close around the house.ย Moonlight slips through the narrow gap in the curtains, laying a soft glow across the floorboards. Enough to not bother with a lamp.
The schoolbooks go on the table. You set your hat beside them. Your boots are worked off by the bed, left where they fall. Then your fingers find the buttons of your dress.
The first slips free at your throat, then the second follows. The dress loosens by degrees, surrendering the shape of the schoolteacher the town knows so well, until all that remains is the woman beneath it. You drag in a deeper breath, eyes falling shut for a moment as the pressure eases. There is no sweeter mercy than taking off the day. No greater pleasure than unlacing yourself from what the world expected you to be.
With one hand still at your bodice, you turn towards the washstand.ย
Your eyes catch on a shadow in the chair by your bed. A shocked gasp leaves your lips before you can stop it, sharp and uselessly small in the dark of your room.ย
At first, he is only a shape amongst shapes.ย
But the shadow is too still for a drunk, too quiet for a fool, and too comfortable for any man with honest business in a womanโs bedroom after dark. The chair complains beneath the size of him. One boot is planted flat against the floorboards, the other stretches lazily before him. A hand rests on his thigh, and somethingย metallic in it glints in the moonlight.
It points straight at you.
Your breath stalls somewhere high in your chest, trapped behind the open buttons at your throat as your vision adjusts slowly to the dim light. His coat hangs open over a shirt that used to be white, now marked with trail dust and the stain of something you hope is mud.
The gunman tilts his head, and only then does the dark give up the glinting blue of his eyes - fixed on you with the possessive satisfaction of a man finding what he came for. They drop slowlyย to where your dress has come loose at your throat,ย exposing the delicate slope beneath your collarbone, and the first soft swell of your chest. Enough skin to make a decent man look away and a worse one very glad he didnโt.
An appreciative rumble hums low from his lips, before his thumb draws back the hammer of his gun with a pointedย click.
โDonโt stop on my account, sweetheart.โ
For a moment, youโre frozen. Just standing there with your fingers still curled in the loosened front of your dress, breath held tight beneath your ribs. The room narrows to the man in your chair and the gun pointed steady in his hand. He watches you without speaking, patient as a hunter, until he gives an expectant nod of the head.
Slowly, your fingers move again, buttons slipping free beneath your touch. His eyes fixate on the reveal, tongue dipping out the wet his bottom lip in anticipation.
By any measure the town would use, he is a bad man. By the sheriffโs ledger, or by the schoolmasterโs careful catechism about the sorts of men a young lady ought to avoid, the man in your chair is exactly the kind of ruin women are warned against.
You have never much cared for the schoolmasterโs catechism.
Instead your gaze drags over him in return, less innocent than the gasp you might have given. Over the breadth of his shoulders where his shirt pulls tight beneath his open coat. Over the narrowness of his waist and the careless sprawl of his body in your chair, as though he belongs there. Over theย powerful thighs spread wide as he sat, revealing theย hard, unmistakable bulge pressing against the front of his trousers. Indecent in its honesty and all the more shameless for the way he makes no attempt to hide it.
He watches you notice it, too. Watches your eyes catch and linger, watches your throat work around the breath you have not quite managed to take.
The last button slips free.
Your dress gives way, sliding from your shoulders and falling in a soft heap around your feet. It leaves you in your chemise,ย though the thin cotton does such a poor job of covering you that the word feels generous. Moonlight passes through it almost cleanly, turning the fabric pale and sheer over the shape of your body: the curve of your waist, the shadow between your thighs, the soft weight of your breasts barely hidden beneath it.ย
Your nipples tighten into hard little points against the cloth, visible enough that you know he must see them. The knowledge makes your skin burn hotter than any shame ought to allow.
A deep, pleased groan escapes his chest.
The gun stays steady in his hand, but the other shifts against his thigh, fingers flexing into the worn fabric before his palm slides higher. He presses over himself through his trousers, just enough to ease some of the ache there. Just enough to make no secret of what the sight of you has done to him.
โGood girl,โ he drawls, โprettiest damn thing Iโve seen in weeks.โ
Your stomach pulls tight at the praise, and your thighs press together beneath the thin fall of your chemise before you can think better of giving him any satisfaction.
But the satisfaction arrives in the slight curve of his mouth before he rises from the chair.ย God, heโs tall, taller than he looks sitting down. And broader too.
If the dark had made a threat of him, the moonlight makes something worse. It loves him. Thereโs no other word for the way it lingers on him as he steps closer.ย
It slips first over the dirty blond hair that has fallen loose beneath the brim of his hat.ย Then it catches on his face, and thereโs no mercy for you in how gently it treats him. Long lashes cast low shadows under his eyes, and whatever blue hasnโt been swallowed by desire or the dark gleams too bright. His mouth is plusher than it ought to be on a man with a gun in his hand. Soft in a way the beard canโt rough out, though it tries.
It decorates his jaw, dragging a little danger back over a face that might have been too pretty without it.
The kind of face you know.
Itโs nailed up outside the mercantile for decent folk to study and condemn. Some sheriffโs artist had done his best to make a villain of him in ink, darkening the eyes, sharpening the jaw, flattening the mouth into something easier to fear. Anything, perhaps, to keep a lady from looking too long and noticing what the moonlight gives away in your bedroom.ย
Better, then, to look beneath his name at the hefty four figure sum printed there. And remember what kind of man earns a price like that.
A careful one, you would think.
A man worth that much should know better than to stand so close. And he should definitely know better than to let his defences drop. Most of all, he should know better than to let desire soften the hand with the gun in it.ย
You move quickly. A sharp twist, a shift of your weight, and the revolver is in your hand instead of his. Then your palm hits the centre of his chest and you shoveย your weight against his chest.
He falls a little too easily back onto the bed with a rough laugh, his hat knocked loose and tumbling somewhere behind him.ย You follow before he can sit up, climbing over him with one knee pressed into the mattress on either side of his hips. The chemise rides high on your thighs as you settle your weight over him, and his hands instantly find a home there.ย
You theย pressย barrel up under his jaw with enough pressure to make him tilt his head back against the quilt,ย exposing the long line of his throat. All that arrogant ease goes still beneath you. Then his Adam's apple bobs beneath the rough gold of his beard, and the ridiculous blue of his eyes go wide.
He looks stunned. Worse, even,ย he looks delighted, as though some wicked part of him had been hoping all along that you would do exactly this.
You lean down until only inches remain between you,ย close enough to see the way his pupils dilate further, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath.
โYouโre late, Rogers.โ
He doesnโt reply straightaway. Instead, hisย eyes move over your face as though the rest of the room has fallen away, as though the weeks and the miles have all narrowed done to this -ย to you. Sat above him in the moonlight, furious and half-naked and close enough to touch. Thereโs something in his expression far too soft for the size of him, too tender for the outlaw laid out beneath you with a revolver pressed to his throat.
Something that looks almost like disbelief, as if he had spent the whole ride dreaming of you and even still, you looked sweeter than his dreams. Like he canโt quite believe the world has been kind enough to put you in front of him again, and now that heโs here, he means to drink down every inch of you before it can change its mind.
Then the tension eases out of him all at once.
His body goes loose beneath yours, the last of the game slipping from his shoulders as his hands slide higher up your thighs. They wrap around your ass, warm and possessive.ย The corner of his mouth curves, slow and devastatingly boyish beneath the ruggedness of his beard. Entirely too pleased for a man currently pinned beneath his own gun.
โMissed me?โ he drawls, already sure of the answer
You press the gun harder into the soft skin beneath his jaw in answer. His fingers tighten on your thighs,ย as his hips shift beneath yours. Itโs only a small, helpless grind, but itโs enough for you to feel the hard line of his cock twitch against the heat between your legs. The satisfaction of feeling his need for you is almost enough to make you forget youโre angry.ย
Almost.
โYou were supposed to be here three days ago,โย you remind him, intending to be stern, but not convinced you achieved it.
โTrain was delayed,โ Steve replies,ย his blue eyes bright with the kind of trouble men get hanged for.
Your eyes narrow. He has the decency to look a little sheepish.
โFine,โ he concedes. โTrain was delayed โcause I robbed it.โ
His thumbs trace slow circles over your hipbones, familiar and possessive, like he has any right to soothe you after being the source of your concern. โYou worried about me, sweetheart?โ
You scoff, โI was debating whether, if the bounty hunters didnโt put a bullet in you, I ought to do it myself.โ
It wouldโve sounded better if your voice hadnโt come out breathier than you intended. If his body were not so solid and warm beneath you, his thighs hard muscle under your spread legs, his hands moving against your skin as though he had been starving for the feel of it.
โGunโs not loaded,โ His voice goes quieter there, the teasing easing at the edges. โNever is. You think Iโd point a loaded gun at you?โ
You hate him a little for that. For the empty gun. For the fact that some stubborn, tender part of him had crossed God knows how many miles with a bounty on his head and still remembered to make his filthy little performance safe.ย
You hate him more for making you care enough to count the days. For making the nights stretch mean when he doesnโt come when heโs meant to. For making you understand, with an anger that burns too hot to be good, what sort of woman waits on a bad man.
โDonโt mean Iโm not angry with you,โ you whisper, though thereโs no bite in your voice.
His gaze drops to your mouth.
โYeah?โ His hands slide back along your thighs, slow enough to make your stomach tighten, high enough to make the thin cotton of your chemise feel like no barrier at all. โWant to show me how angry?โ
Your throat tightens.ย The revolver drops from your hand onto the quilt beside his head.ย Steveโs eyes lift to yours, and there he is beneath the outlaw. Tired, alive, and yours for the few hours he has no right to give you.
You kiss him hard, pouring all that fear and anger and need into his mouth.
Steve takes it with a groan, his head dropping back against the quilt again. One hand leaves your thigh to catch the back of your neck and drag you closer. This isn't a careful reunion. He bites your lip and the sound you make against his mouth ruins whatever patience he had left.
His tongue pushes possessively into your mouth, licking into you until your fingers twist in the front of his shirt just to have something to hold. When you rock down against him, grinding the damp heat of your pussy over the hard line of his cock through too much fabric, his answering sound catches high and helpless in his throat.
โI ought to punish you for makinโ me wait,โ you breathe against his mouth, though the threat loses some of its dignity when your hips roll down again and your own breath breaks at the friction.
Steveโs hand tightens on your neck, keeping you close enough that his lips brush yours when he answers. โYou ought to.โ
Your hands shove at his coat, dragging it off his shoulders with more force than grace. Steveย only helps enough to get free, tooย busy chasing your mouth again, greedy and open, his tongue sweeping against yours like heโs trying to taste every desperate sound heโs pulled from you. You tug at the buttons of his shirt next,ย fingers clumsy on the open collar before patience fails you entirely and you pull hard enough to strain the buttons.
You need skin. Need the warmth of him under your palms and the pulse of him beneath your mouth.
โI ought to send you back out the window you came in.โ
His grin returns at that, mischief bright in his eyes despite the way his cock twitches under you. โYouย ought to get that fixed,โ he rumbles, one hand sliding possessive over your waist. โWho knows what kind of bad men could get in?โ
You punish him for the clever little comment with another roll of your hips.ย Steveโs fingers clamp around your waist and the sound he makes is almost a whine, mouth falling open against yours.
His chest rises hard beneath your hands, broad and golden in the moonlight, warm muscle shifting under your palms with every rough breath he takes. Scars litter his skin - some you know the stories of and some he has never given you. You touch them anyway, touch him anyway, needing the proof of him beneath your palms. Then your hips grind down again, and his stomach flexes, abs pulling tight as he lets out a rough groan.
โI ought to make you beg,โ you whisper, mouth dragging down over his jaw, his beard rough against your lipsย as you kiss the place where his heartbeat pounds beneath his skin.
โYes, maโam,โ Steve breathes, hands holdingย you tight over the thick, straining shape of him. โYou ought to.โ
Your chemise has ridden high over your thighs, and every drag of your body over his makes the ache in you sharper.
โStart with sorry,โ you instruct.
Steveโs breath catches when you slow the roll of your hips, turning the grind into something almost cruel. His hands flex at your waist, big enough to move you if he wanted, strong enough that he could flip you easily. But instead he lies there beneath you, shirt open and cock hard under your weight, letting you make him wait. Letting you have this dizzying power over him and looking up at you like he would let you ruin him if you asked sweetly enough.
His throat works beneath your mouth.
โIโm sorry Iโm late,โ he murmurs.
You lift your head just enough to look at him, raising an expectant brow. His thumbs stroke once over your hips, softernow.
Steveโs eyes flick over your face, softening at whatever he finds there. โIโm sorry I worried you.โ
Satisfied with his obedience, you lean down to kiss him again in reward. But Steve catches the breath between your mouths, his lips brushing yours when he adds, quieter,ย โIโm sorry I have to leave again at dawn.โ
You still completely. Steveโs eyes find yours beneath his mussed hair, and there is and ache thereย so open it makes your chest hurt. Too honest for a man whoโs worth more dead than most men will ever be alive. You canโt bare it for long.ย Your mouth finds his again, harder this time, before the feeling can name itself. That foolish hope of keeping a man who only ever comes to you with one foot already out the door.
โThen donโt waste my night, cowboy,โ you breathe against his lips, rolling your hips down until his cock jerks beneath you. โYouโve got a lot to make up for.โ
Steve answers with his hands. A sudden greed of them at your waist, then sliding further up beneath your chemise. His thumbs brushย the underside of your breasts with just enough pressure to make you gasp into his mouth. Then heโs tugging the fabric higher, impatient now, and you lift your arms before he has to ask.ย
He drags the cotton over your head, tossing it aside with the rest of your clothes until the night air has you bare above him.
His gaze rakes over you with such naked want that your stomach clenches. Overย the tight peaks of your nipples, and lower still till to where you are spread over him in nothing but your drawers and stockings, already damp enough that the fabric clings between your thighs.
Steveโs hands tighten at your hips, his thumbs dragging once over the bare skin above your drawers.ย
โYou missed me somethinโ awful, didnโt you?โ he teases, the corner of his mouth twitching, though his voice comes out rougher than the smile deserves.
You should scold him for that. You mean to, truly. But then his mouth closes over your breast, and the words break apart in your throat.
His beard scrapes over your skin as he sucks your nipple between his lips, tongue dragging over the tight peak before his teeth catch, sharp enough to make you dry out. Your hands fly to his hair, and you tug - meaner than you intend - but Steve groans against your tit, delighted.
โLove it when youโre mean,โ he pants against your skin, mouth moving to the other breast, leaving the first wet with his spit in the moonlight.
His head tips beneath your grip, golden hair sliding through your fingers. He lets you guide him, all that size and strength beautiful under your hands. Because for all his sins, Steve is clever enough to know thereโs power in obedience when it comes to the right woman.
His hands shove your drawers down over your hips, hurried and clumsy for the first time all night. They catch at your knees before you kick them away, leaving you naked above him, trembling with the kind of want no decent woman was ever supposed to admit by name.
Your fingers go to his trousers, but the buttons take too long. You curse them for it, and Steve gives a breathless little laugh that dies the second your hand slips inside and wraps around him. His cock springs free, slapping heavy against your thigh, already leaking at the tip.ย Precum smears against your skin as he twitches there, hard enough to make your mouth go dry.
Itโs like you forget just how big he is until heโs in your hand again, fat and veined and heavy enough to make you wonder if heโll still fit. But your cunt clenches desperately around nothing like it already knows the answer.
You sink your teeth into your lower lip and drag yourself over him, sliding the wet heat of your pussy along the length of his cock.ย He groans at the first slick pass, at the way your folds part around him, coating him in creamy white wetness until every rock of your hips makes an obscene, sticky sound between you.
The fat head catches against your clit with each pass, enough to make your hips stutter and your head tip back with a needy little whine. But Steveโs arms clamp over your hips, muscles flexing as he keeps you humping his cock. His precum mixes with the mess dripping from your needy hole, smearing over his shaft and down onto the golden muscle of his stomach under you.
โFuck, โatta girl,โ he rasps, head falling back against the quilt. โGet my cock nice and wet. Make yourself feel good, use me.โ
So you grind down harder, slicking his cock with the mess heโs made of you, feeling his abs flex beneath your hands every time his tip nudges your tight entrance.
โSteve,โ you whine, nails digging into this skin hard enough to leave marks. โI want it. I want your cock in me.โ
โYeah?โ he breathes, and the little edge of a grin he tries for doesnโt last. Not when you reach between you, wrap your hand around the thick, wet length of him. โThen take it, maโam. Itโs yours.โ
You push up on your knees, thighs trembling on either side of him, the thick muscle of Steveโs biceps bunching as he holds you steady.ย His cock pulses with anticipation in your grip, veins standing out beneath your palm as you line him up with your entrance.ย
Youโre both wet enough that it should be easy, your cream smeared down his shaft, his precum sticky on your fingers. But the first push of the mushroom tip stretchesย you open with a burn so sweet and full it feels like being split in half. Your mouth falls open the same moment his does, both of you moaning at the sensation after weeks without each other.ย
Your pussy flutters around him, tight and greedy, sucking him in with little needy clenches that make his hands dig harder into your hips.ย
โMissed this,โ he groans, every muscle in him straining with the effort not to thrust up and take more than you give. โMissed your tight cunt so bad I damn near wore out my own fist thinkinโ about it.โ
The filthy praise goes straight to your cunt, sending a fresh wave of arousal dripping around him as you sink lower.ย Your head tips back, his name spilling from your lips in broken little sounds as you take him inch by inch.
Steveโs eyes fix on where youโre joined, watching the slow, wet slide of himself disappearing inside you. His jaw clenches beneath his beard, every muscle in him pulled taut like the sight of your tight pussy struggling around him might make him spill inside you before youโve even taken all of him.ย
When your hips finally meet his, the fat tip of his cock kisses your cervix and it empties your head clean of any coherent though. You feel him twitch inside you as your walls give a wet squeeze around him, your cunt clinging tight like it needs a second to believe itโs taken all of him.ย
โFuck, Steve,โ you whine, nails dragging over his chest. โYouโre so big.โ
You slowly try and find a rhythm, rolling your hips down until the tip of his cock hits deep enough to make your whole body jolt.ย The first few strokes are messy, your thighs trembling as you lift and sink. But Steveโs palms stay firm at your hips, helping you find the rhythm, holding you steady while you fuck yourself down onto him.
โBut youโre takinโ it, sweet girl,โ he groans, helping you down harder,ย pulling you into each stroke until your tits bounce and the room fills with the slick slap of your body meeting his.ย โTakinโ my cock so pretty. Always do.โ
The bed complains beneath you, wood knocking softly against the wall, but itโs nothing compared to the wet, shameless sound of your pussy taking him over and over.ย
โSteveโโย Your voice breaks into a cry when he hits that deep spot again, โNeedโfuckโโ
Your pace turns desperate, hips rolling and lifting, chasing the thick slide of him inside you. Every time you sink down, your cunt grips him tighter, cream slicking the base of his cock in a white ring that smears against his skin and drips lower, making a filthy mess of his heavy balls.
Steveโs eyeโs darken at the sight. โPretty cuntโs makinโ such a mess on my cock, can feel her squeezinโ me. Feel you gettinโ close.โ
You nod, pathetic and needy. โI need you,โ you gasp, โSteve,ย please, Iโmโโ
His hand leaves your hip and slips between you, thumb finding your swollen clit. Your rhythm breaks, hips jerking as a needy moan catches in your throat. You try to keep riding him, but it turns sloppy fast, more grinding than bouncing now, your body chasing his hand while his cock stays buried deep inside you.
โThatโs what you needed, sweetheart?โ Steve rasps, watching you fall apart above him. โThen let me feel that tight pussy come on my cock.โ
The pressure snaps tight in your belly, sharp enough to steal the air from you. One more stroke of his thumb, one more dirty grind down on his cock, and your orgasm crashes through you.
Your cunt strangles his cock, pulsing around him in tight, wet flutters. โFuck,โ he grunts out, hands grabbing for hips as his restraint finally snaps. โFuck, maโam,ย canโtโโ
One second youโre on top of him, shaking through it, and the next his strength is under you and around you, flipping you onto your back like you weigh nothing at all. Steve settles between your thighs with a groan as he drives back into your soaked cunt in one deep thrust that punches the breath from your lungs.
โSteve!โย You sob his name, oversensitive and helpless under him, but your legs hook around his waist anyway. Steve fucks into you harder, deeper, mouth catching yours in a messy kiss.
โThere you go,โ he grits out, one hand braced beside your head, the other gripping your thigh high against his hip. โโAtta girl. Fuck, you feel too good, this cuntโs tryinโ to keep me.โ
You canโt answer, not properly. Not with him pounding into you like this, all that leashed strength finally let loose, his cock dragging over your oversensitive walls while your legs shake around him. All you can do is cling to him and babble his name, too ruined to do anything but take it.
His thrusts turn rougher as his cock throbs inside you. At the last second, Steve pulls out with a broken groan, his hand wrapping around his slick cock as he spills hot over your stomach. Hot white ropes spill across your skin while his hips jerk into his fist, eyes fixed on the mess heโs making of you like itโs the prettiest thing heโs seen in weeks.
Steveโs strokes slow, his fist still wrapped around himself as the last of his release spills over your belly. His eyes drag from the mess on your skin to your face, and his expression softens instantly.ย
โGood girl,โ he rumbles,ย thumb smearing through the mess heโs made before he seems to remember himself. His mouth finds yoursย once, beards scratching softly over your skin as you make a tired little sound against his mouth. โTook me so good, sweets. So fuckinโ good for me.โ
His lips move over your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth,ย murmuring praise between each kiss, until the words sink under your skin. Then he forces himself away with a rough breath, tugging his shirt the rest of the way off before shoving his trousers down his hips. His boots hit the floor with a dull thud, followed by the rest of his clothes.
Naked, he crosses to the washstand with all that golden muscle and road-worn swagger, shoulders broad in the moonlight, hair mussed from your hands. He comes back with a damp cloth and cleans you himself.ย
One big hand rests tenderly at your hip while the other wipes his come from your stomach. His gaze flicks up to yours once when you shiver, mouth curving beneath his beard, but he doesnโt tease. He only drags the cloth lower, gentle between your thighs, cleaning the sticky mess from your skin.
โSo perfect,โ he whispers, pressing a kiss just beneath your ribs when heโs done. โMy best girl.โ
Tossing the cloth aside, he climbs into bed beside you, greedy for your warmth. His arm hooks around you waist instantly,ย dragging you back against him like even the few inches between your bodies are more than he can spare. His chest presses warm against your back, his thigh slides between yours, and his mouth finds your shoulder before youโve even settled.
For a while, neither of you says anything.
Steve keeps kissing you anyway, and his hand rests heavy over your stomach, fingers spread wide like he means to keep you against him forever. But his thumb moves gently. Back and forth. Back and forth. A quiet apology against your skin. Youโre half asleep by the time your voice finds him again.
โMissed you Stevie,โ you mumble, so low he might have missed it if he hadnโt been listening for every breath. โWas worried.โ
Steve goes still behind you for a moment, then his thumb starts moving again, slow over the bare skin of your stomach like he can soothe the ache he put there. โI know,โ he murmurs into your hair. โIโm sorry, sweetheart.ย Didnโt mean to leave you countinโ days.โ
โWhat really happened?โ
Steve exhales slowly behind you,ย mouth pressing to your shoulder before he answers, like he can feel the tightness gathering there already. โTrain job got messy. Payroll car was heavier than we heard, and the guard had more friends than sense. Had to ride south after, lose a posse near the creekbed.โ His hand tightens when your brow pinches in worry, though your eyes stay closed. โNo, honey. Not like that. They got a shot off, but it only grazed me.โ
Your eyes crack open. โOnly?โ
โIโm here, ainโt I?โ he breathes, trying for that crooked little arrogance and not quite managing it. โTakes more than that to put me down.โ
You make a sleepy, displeased sound and press back harder into him, grumbling something unkind into the pillow
Steve huffs a quiet laugh and presses his smile to your shoulder. โMean little thing,โ he whispers, but his arm tightens around you, and his lips linger. โIโm alright. Truly. Just took longer than I wanted.โ
After that, the room settles around you. His hand stays where it is, warm and broad over your middle, and his breathing slows behind you.Youโre almost asleep when the thought slips out of you, small and wounded.
โDonโt wake me when you leave.โ
His chest stops moving against your back.
โI mean it,โ you add,ย fingers finding his where they rest over your stomach. โI canโt watch you choose the door.โ
That one hurts him. You feel his arm curl tighter around your waist like some selfish part of him wants to promise he wonโt go at all. For a second, you think he might argue. But Steve Rogers has never been cruel enough to promise something so foolish.
โAlright,โ he whispers, voice rough. โIโll leave quiet.โ
You nod once, already drifting, but your fingers tighten around his. Steve turns his hand beneath yours and holds on. โBut Iโm here now,โ he murmurs, mouth brushing your skin. โSleep, honey. Iโve got you.โ
Morning doesnโt wake you kindly.
One moment youโre warm enough to feel the man behind you, and the next your hand is sliding across the mattress, reaching for a body that is no longer there. Still, you lie with your hand pressed to the place where Steve had been, as if there might still be enough of him left in the sheets to count for something.
The scrape of his beard still burns faintly along your shoulder. Your thighs ache when you shift. Proof everywhere, and still no man beside you.
The day doesnโt care.ย It waits for no woman, least of all one foolish enough to miss a man with four figures under his name. So you get up.There is no use in grieving a man who is not dead, and no sense in missing a man who warned you he would go.
You go about your morning routine and pull on your dress, fastening every button back into place until the schoolteacher returns piece by piece. Nothing to suggest what an outlaw had done to her in the dark. By the time your books are gathered, your hands have almost stopped shaking.
You check the stove before you leave. The door latch. The chair by the bed, sitting innocent in the morning light, as if it hadnโt held an outlaw the night before. Last, out of habit more than thought, you cross to the window over the washstand.
Your hand is already braced to force it closed when you freeze.ย The window is shut.
Not forced down, not wedged in crooked, not sitting stubborn in its swollen frame. Shut.ย Properly shut.ย The latch sits clean in its catch,ย holding firm beneath the careful press of your fingers.
Itโs silly, really, to stand there with your throat gone tight over a fixed window. But itโs what almost does you in. Your bad man, making sure no worse men can get in.
Weeks pass with no word from your outlaw.
You tell yourself thatโs likely for the best.ย Good news rarely travels fast where men like Steve Rogers are concerned; bad news, however, travels like wildfire.ย Still, each morning you find yourself scanning the newspaper columns with a sour twist in your stomach, looking for his name with morbid compulsion and praying not to find it.ย Itโs the same grim, self-torturous routine every day, waiting for the one where some column out west reports Steve Rogers and the Winter Kid dead, captured, or hanged.
By night, the worry is worse. It follows you into bed and slips into your dreams, filling up the space Steve left empty. You sleep poorly when sleep comes at all, one ear tuned toward the road like a fool, listening for hoofbeats youโve no good reason to expect, yet hope for all the same.
But it isnโt hoofbeats that pull you from slumber tonight.
Itโs the violentย thudย of a fist hammering on your front door, hard enough to shake the frame and send you bolting upright with your heat already halfway up your throat.
โHello?!โย a man shouts through the door, breathless and frantic.ย โMiss! For Godโs sake, tell me youโre in there!โ
He swears under his breath, his voice comes again, but lower this time. โGoddammit, Rogers, if you gave me the wrong damn houseโโ
His fist hits the door again, harder now, rattling the latch in its frame.
โOpen up!ย Please, open the door!โ he yells. โNameโs BarnesโBucky BarnesโIโve got Rogers with me, and heโs shot real bad!โ
Steve.ย Shot badly.
The words make your blood run cold, but fear is not enough to make you foolish. Graveyards are full of women who opened up because they believed bad men with good stories.
โMiss!โ Barnes shouts, followed by a strained grunt and the scrape of boots dragging over your porch boards. โPlease! I ainโt got time to stand here proper, heโs slippinโ!โ
Steveย hadย spoken of a Bucky Barnes before, of course he had - Buck, usually, said with the kind of rough fondness he tried to hide and never quite managed - but knowing a name isnโt the same as knowing a voice through the door in the middle of the night.
You move for the shotgun. A lady might have felt shame keeping such a thing so close to her bed. A woman who lives alone knows better.
You cock it loud enough for the sound to carry through the door.
The knocking stops.ย When you speak, your voice is steadier than the rest of you feels. โIf youโre lyinโ, Mr. Barnes, you ought to know Iโve got a shotgun pointed at this door.โ
โLady, you can shoot me after if youโre still of a mind to,โ he shouts back. โRight now I need you to open the damn door before Rogers bleeds out on your porch!โ
Before you can answer, a low groan drags from the other side of the door, followed by Bucky swearing under his breath. Then you recognise Steveโs voice, frailer than youโve ever heard it,ย trying to make your name out of what little strength he has left.ย It makes the shotgun feel useless in your hands.
You flip the latch up before you can think better of it, though you keep one hand on the shotgun as you pull the door open - barrel tipped down but ready.ย
Bucky Barnes is braced on your porch, with Steve Rogers sagging against him.
His jaw is clenched from the strain of the weight, one shoulder shoved beneath Steveโs arm, with his own locked tight around Steveโs waist. Steveโs boots scrape uselessly over the boards when Bucky shifts him higher. It is clear,ย terribly clear, that Steve is only standing because Bucky has decided he will.
Heโs bent nearly double, folded into the wound, hanging off Bucky with no strength of his own. His head dips heavy towards his chest, and he might almost look drunk if his skin were not so pale beneath the dirt, or if every breath didnโt seem to pull through him with effort.ย
One hand rests low on his abdomen, fingers spread over a blooming red patch that has soaked through his shirt and keeps smearing beneath his palm. But the hand is slack. His arm trembles with the effort of keeping it over the wound, slipping through the blood rather than stopping it. Every breath drags through him shallow and uneven as though his body has begun bargaining over what it can afford.
โSteve!โ
The shotgun clatters to the floor in an instant, forgotten in your panic. You reach for him instantly, palms cupping his face because you need to see his eyes. Need some proof behind the boneless sag of him.ย His skin is damp beneath your hands and itโs too cold for a man sweating so badly. When you lift his head, it comes slowly, with too much weight in it, his neck offering almost no help at all.
He looks worse than any newspaper ever managed to make him.
His mouth hangs open around each thin pull of breath, lips dry and parted beneath the rough gold of his beard. Dirt clings to the sweat along his hairline. There is a smear of blood near his lip, and his jaw has gone loose under your hands, all that stubborn Rogers grit worn down to something frighteningly human.
His eyes slide over you without settling, and that scares you more than the blood.
โSteve,โ you repeat, thumb brushing his cheek. โLook at me.ย Please, look at me.โ
Recognition gathers slowly, blue eyes dragging themselves back from somewhere far away. Then the worry comes with it, because even like this, Steve Rogers is sorry. His brows draw together as if he has been carrying one thought all the way to your porch and means to set it down before his body gives out beneath him.
โTold Buck not to wake you,โ he slurs, stopping after it to drag in another shallow breath. โTold him you needed sleep.โ
Bucky grunts a disbelieving laugh next to you.ย
โAlright, Romeo, thatโs real touching,โ he snaps, shifting Steveโs weight higher with a grunt, โbut youโre bleeding on the ladyโs porch. Miss, I need him flat, I need light, and I need clean cloths.ย Now.โ
The kitchen table is where Bucky wants him. Thereโs no time to argue about the indecency of it, or the blood, or how Buckyโs supposed to get him up there without injuring Steve further.ย
Bucky pulls Steve through the door with one brutal shift of his weight, dragging him over the threshold whilst Steveโs boots scrape and stumble over your floor. The wound pulls with the movement, wrenching a raw, bitten-off sound deep from his chest.
โClear it,โ Bucky orders, jerking his chin toward the oak table.ย
And you move only because your body takes over. A book hits the floor. Then the bowl you left out after supper, shattering somewhere near your feet. You donโt hear it over the rush of blood in your ears.
Bucky gets one hand under Steveโs arm and the other braced hard at his back. โAlright, Stevie,โ he mutters, more to himself than to Steve. โUp we go.โ
The lift tears a brutal cry out of Steve.
Youโve never heard that sound from him before. Pain has pulled groans from him, curses too, all stubbornly swallowed before anyone could make much of them. But Steveโs too far gone to care about that now.
โI know,โ Bucky says at once, voice gone tight as he arranges Steve onto the table. โI know,ย I know. Mโsorry, Stevie. Iโm sorry.โ
Steve is too far under to hear him properly. His head rolls against the wood, lashes fluttering, mouth open around another broken sound when Bucky drags his legs up after him. The table creaks beneath his weight. Blood smears across the pale grain in a dark, ugly sweep. Then Bucky plants one hand low on Steveโs abdomen and presses down hard.
Steveโs whole body jerks.
โShit,โ Bucky grunts out, leaning his weight into it when Steve tries to curl away from the pressure. โI know, pal. Ainโt got a choice.โ
You just stand there, frozen.
Thatโs the shame in it.ย You stand there with your hands curled uselessly at your sides and your bare feet near broken crockery, staring at your outlaw bleeding out across your kitchen table. There is some part of you, in the back of your head, that understands the urgency of the scene, begging you to move. Butย the rest of you is somewhere else entirely, watching from a distance as the biggest, most capable man you have ever known lies pale as linen and fights for the next breath.
โLady,โ Bucky snaps. โI need you with me.โ
But you donโt answer, eyes fixed on the slow rile and fall of Steveโs chest. The terrible wait between each shallow pull of air and the next. The horrible stillness after every breath, when your heart seems to stop with his and only starts again when his chest moves.
Buckyโs bloody hand slams against the table. โMiss!โ
Your eyes jerk to him, though the rest of you stays frozen in place. He looks furious - terrified too, but masked beneath the practical need to keep moving.ย His jaw is set, his breathing hard, one hand still pressed down over Steveโs wound while the other points at you like he can drag sense back into you by force.
โYou can stare at him dead or you can help me keep him livinโ,โ he says. โPick quick.โ
The words snap you back to reality. Your throat tightens, and you take a steadying breath, โWhat do you need?โ
You scramble through your own house, trying to remember everything Bucky lists as fast as he names it.ย
Lamps first, hands shaking hard enough that the chimney glass knocks against the metal. Then cloths from the press. The clean sheet from your bed, yanked free with one sharp pull and bundled under your arm. Thread from the sewing box. Needle. Whiskey from the cupboard that you only keep in for Steve. You put water on the stove and nearly drop the pot before you get it settled.
Behind you, Bucky cuts Steveโs shirt open. The sound of Steve groaning under the movement turns your stomach, but Bucky only mutters a low apology and keeps working, dragging ruined cloth away from ruined skin before reaching for the whiskey and one of the clean rags you brought him. He wipes around the wound with brisk, careful pressure, until the blood smears thinner and the shape of the damage begins to show.
You wish at once that he hadnโt.ย
It looks smaller than it should for all the red it has made, one ugly hole low on Steveโs abdomen, close to his hip, and swollen angry at the edges. Blood keeps welling steadily no matter how quickly Bucky clears it. Steveโs stomach jumps beneath every touch, muscle pulling tight before giving out again.
โBulletโs still in,โ Bucky confirms, mouth grim. โAinโt deep. Thatโs the good news. Bad news is youโre takinโ it out and sewinโ him up.โ
โNo!โ Youโre shaking your head before the word has even finished leaving your mouth. โYou crazy, mister? I canโt do that!โ
Steve makes a rough sound, half breath, half pain, and Bucky glances down long enough for something scared to flash over his face.
โWell, little lady, unless you reckon you can hold down two hundred pounds of half-delirious cowboy when he starts thrashinโ while I go fishinโ through his guts, then yes,ย you can.โ Buckyโs hand clamps harder over Steveโs middle when Steve shifts with a broken sound, his shoulders lifting from the table before the strength goes out of him again. โBecause if he comes off this table, heโll tear himself up worse than he already is, and I canโt hold him and dig the bullet out at the same time.โ
Your mouth opens, but nothing follows.
The lamp catches the sweat on Steveโs throat and the red glistening on Buckyโs hands. Too much of it. Too much on the table, too much soaked into Steveโs shirt, too much slipping between Buckyโs fingers no matter how hard he presses.
You nod once, firm, forcing the fear down into something more useful. Some of the harshness leaves Buckyโs face, not enough to soften him completely, but enough for you to see the man Steve must have trusted with all the worst parts of himself.ย
โGood girl, Iโll talk you through it,โ Bucky says, already reaching for the whiskey. โSteady hands is all I need from youโ
So you give him steady hands.ย Or try to.
You wash them until the water in the basin clouds pink from blood. Bucky talks all the while, voice firm enough to keep you moving from one instruction to the next. He pours a splash of whiskey over the wound and Steve flinches from the table with a staggered cry, only for Bucky to catch him hard across the chest and shove him back down.
โI know, Iโm sorry, pal,โ Bucky murmurs, hands firm at Steveโs shoulders. โBut you gotta try and stay still Stevie, please.โ
The softness in his voice does nothing to gentle his grip.ย If anything, thatโs what makes it worse: the way he bends close to Steveโs ear and coaxes him like a wounded horse whilst holding him down with enough strength to bruise. He gets the belt from his own waist and folds the leather between Steveโs teeth, fingers careful at his jaw.
โBite down,โ he instructs. โBefore you break your damn teeth trying not to make noise.โ
Steveโs lashes flutter, eyes too glassy to find either of you properly, but his teeth close around the leather. Buckyโs hand lingers one second at the side of Steveโs face before he reaches into his coat and pulls out a small roll of oilcloth, the kind of thing only carried by men on the wrong side of the law with no doctor waiting.
Inside is a short knife, and a pair of narrow steel forceps. He snatches those up first and presses them into your palm.
You take a steadying breath. It doesnโt help much
The first touch of metal to torn flesh makes Steve cry out around the belt, the sound muffled and awful. His hand slams against the table hard enough to rattle the bowl, but Bucky catches his wrist and pins it down without looking away from the wound. He murmurs something too low for you to catch.
Apology, prayer, curse; with men like them, there may not be much difference.
Under Buckyโs instruction, you search for the bullet,ย stopping every time Steveโs body bucks beneath Buckyโs hold. It feels endless, a handful of seconds stretched cruel by the sound of Steveโs breathing and the red shining over your fingers. Then the forceps catch on something hard, something that does not belong inside a man, and Buckyโs voice cuts through the room at once.
โThatโs it. Easy now. Pull straight.โ
The bullet comes free slick with blood and drops into the bowl with a dull little clink. For all the damage it has done, it looks far too small.
Bucky lets out a breath, but he doesnโt let go of Steve. โGood,โ he praises, rough. โThatโs real good, darlinโ. Now stitch him.โ
Threading the needle takes three tries and a muttered curse before the thread finally slips through. Cloth never prepared you for this - it stays put under your hands. Flesh has a give to it that turns your stomach, but you swallow it down and focus on the path of the needle, in one side and out the other, the thread slowly drawing the wound closed.
Bucky watches the first one go through, then the second, and whatever he sees must satisfy him enough to turn more of his attention back to Steve.
โDoinโ good, Stevie,โ he murmurs. โStay with me. There you go. Tough bastard like you donโt get to die in a schoolteacherโs kitchen.โ
Steve makes a sound around the belt, weak now, worn down by pain and blood loss until even agony seems to cost too much effort. Then the needle catches wrong, just enough to make his body twitch beneath Buckyโs grip.
โFuckโIโm sorry Steve,โ you whisper before you can stop yourself,ย pulling the stitch through with a shaking hand. โIโm nearly done, promise.โ
Bucky glances at you, then back down at him. โHear that, Rogers? Ladyโs apologisinโ to you while saving your sorry hide. You better live long enough to thank her proper.โ
By the time you tie off the final stitch, your back aches, your hands are cramped, and your nightdress is ruined past saving. Bucky binds the wound tight with strips torn from your clean sheet, wrapping them firm while you hold Steveโs hand and try not to notice how loosely his fingers curl around yours now.
When Bucky finally steps away, the room seems to take its first full breath since two outlaws crashed into your evening. He wipes his hands on the edge of the sheet, eyes tracking over Steve, watching for any fresh red spilling through the bandage. He nods once to himself when none does.
โAlright,โ Bucky says at last. โNow we keep him warm, and thank God heโs a stubborn son of a bitch.โ
With the worst of the work done, the night settles into a long, sleepless vigil.
Steve is covered with every blanket you own, and neither of you can tear your eyes away from him long enough to do much beyond tend to him.ย His body has finally given itself over the exhaustion, sleeping so deeply you watch for his breaths to make sure heโs still alive. You clean what you can from him with a wet cloth - the dirt on his cheek, the sweat from his brow, the blood on his hands.
Bucky stays in the chair by Steveโs head.
He looks half-dead himself, shoulders bowed beneath exhaustion, eyes shadowed, jaw slackening each time sleep nearly takes him before he drags himself back from it. Every time Steveโs breathing changes, Buckyโs head lifts. Every time Steve shifts, Buckyโs hand is already there, soothing him back to stillness. Small, tender brushes of his hand through damp blond strands. He does it without thinking, with the ease of habit, and you get the feeling youโre seeing something usually kept from view.
Itโs a strange thing to witness from a man with his name on a wanted poster. Itโs a strange thing to witness from a man at all, really.
โThe Winter Kidโย the papers call him - always printed near Steveโs name like one shadow following another. Heโs younger than the posters make him look, or maybe just more human. Handsome too, though that thought feels poorly timed and unwelcome. But true all the same.
Maybe he can feel you looking, because his eyes lift to yours a moment later. Theyโre unfairly blue against the tan of his skin and the dark fall of his hair,and for one strange second you feel caught in them the way you do in Steveโs.
โWhat?โ he asks, tilting his head.
You shrug, a little embarrassed, but you hold his gaze. โYou donโt look much like your picture.โ
โYeah, well.โ The corner of his mouth twitches, and for the first time you feel that charm Steve warned you about, battered but not dead. โThey charge extra for likeness.โ
A small laugh slips out of you before you can stop it. Bucky hears it, and the corner of his mouth seems to twitch a fraction further up, pleased with himself. The air between you seems a little lighter after that, still ruled by Steveโs breathing, but less like two strangers keeping watch over a dying man and more like two people bound, against all better judgement, to the same stubborn fool.
โI expected you shorter,โ you admit, causing Bucky to raise a brow. โYou know, from the name.โ
Bucky groans like this is a wound all its own, head tipping back against the chair for half a second. โChrist. Not you too.โ
โWell, it does give a certain impression,โ you add, just to goad.
โIt gives me a headache is what it gives me.โ He drags a tired hand down his face, though the shape of a smile keeps threatening at his mouth. โYou know how hard it is to be taken serious by women when half of โem start grinninโ soon as they hear Kid?โ
โFrom what Steve tells me,โ you say, glancing down at the man asleep between you, โyou seem to manage just fine.โ
His expression shifts slightly at that. Surprise first, then something warmer he tries to hide by leaning back in his chair and letting the charm crawl into the corner of his mouth. Worse now you know to look for it.
โOh yeah?โ he drawls, voice smoother than it should be after all his shouting. โAnd what exactlyย hasย Rogers told you about how I treat a lady, darlinโ?โ
You reach for the damp cloth beside you and wring it out over the basin, refusing to give him the satisfaction of looking flustered. โCareful, Mr. Barnes. Iโve still a mind to pick my shotgun back up.โ
Bucky seems more pleased by your threat than scared, but lifts his hands in surrender all the same, โOf course, Miss. Iโll behave.โ
After that, the conversation drifts into exchanging stories about Steve.ย It feels odd to speak of him like this whilst he lies pale beneath your blankets, yet necessary too, as if each foolish little detail sets another small weight on the side of the scale that says living.
Eventually, though, you canโt avoid the question anymore.
โWhat happened?โ
Buckyโs smile disappears instantly, replaced by a grimace. โRumlow.โย
Just the name is enough to fill the room with dread.
Brock Rumlow has a reputation that travels ahead of him. Bounty hunter, most folk call him. Brutal killer, if folk were feeling honest. But a good man by the townโs measure because he kills with the sheriffโs blessing.ย
โHe caught our trail two days west,โ he explains. โWe thought weโd shaken him after the river crossinโ. But Steve said the tracks were too clean, and of course he just had to be right.โ
His mouth twists, though thereโs no humour in it now.
โRumlow had men waitinโ by the ridge. More than we counted on. First shot took my horse out from under me, and Steve came back for me like the damned fool he is.โ Buckyโs hand goes to Steveโs hair again before he seems to notice it, fingers combing once through the damp strands before he pulls away. โI told him to ride. He didnโt.โ
Of course he didnโt.
That is what hurts most, perhaps. Not the recklessness - you made your peace with that,ย or tried to. No, itโs the unfortunate fact that no part of you can imagine him doing anything else because you know by now that Steve has never had much sense when someone he cares for is in danger. He might be a wanted man, but heโs good down to the marrow.
โHe drew their fire long enough for me to get my rifle,โ Bucky continues. โI managed to drop one man, maybe two. Then Rumlow put a bullet in him from the rocks. Steve stayed in the saddle after, somehow. Long enough to swear at me for fussinโ.โ
โThat sounds like him,โ you say quietly,ย reaching for Steveโs hand beneath the blankets. His fingers are cool when you fold them into yours and loose in a way that makes your throat tighten.
โYeah.โ Bucky huffs through his nose. โStubborn bastard made it near six miles telling me it was only a graze. Then he went white as flour and damn near pitched off the horse.โ
Your hand tightens around Steveโs before you can stop it. Buckyโs eyes catch it - for all his exhaustion, there is very little the man seems to miss.
โKept off the road after that, muddied the trial in the creek too.โ Bucky says. โLost โem for tonight, I reckon.โ
โFor tonight?โ
His eyes lift to yours, and they give you the answer before his mouth does. โRumlowโs still breathinโ, ainโt he?โ
That answers enough.
Bucky leansย forward and peels the edge of the blanket back just far enough to check the bandage. With gentle fingers, he presses near your stitches, watching for fresh blood, and you find yourself holding your breath until he lets the blanket fall back into place.
โStitches are holding,โ he confirms. โYou did good, darlinโ, real good.โ
Then his gaze drops to Steve, hand resting on his shoulder.
โCourse,โ he adds, murmuring almost to himself. โRogers always did know how to pick good people.โ
That makes you look back up at him, at the two of them together. And for a second you see it all playing out: Steve riding back into gunfire, Bucky dragging him through the dark, the two of them printed side by side on every wanted paper like the world has always known they come together.
โYeah,โ you reply softly, holding his gaze. โHe does.โ
The corner of Buckyโs mouth lifts without any of the charm from before. This smile is smaller, more honest. Grateful in a way neither of you can bear to acknowledge.ย
The next couple of days pass in pieces for Steve.
Pain consumes most of it, sharp enough to drag him sleep sometimes. But he always wakes to company and theย cool drag of a cloth over his face when fever leaves him damp and restless. Sometimes the hand at his brow is yours. Sometimes itโs Buckyโs calloused palms, not a soft but no less careful for it.
When he shifts too quickly, one of you is always there to press him back down. Your voice comes sweet near his ear, telling him to to rest and stop being difficult. Bucky has less patience about it, muttering,ย โQuit beinโ a jackass, Rogers,โbut the softness in his voice gives him away.
By the second day, he starts catching more of the world around him. Mostly, he catches the two of you speaking over him like heโs some troublesome piece of work you have mutually agreed to keep alive. He hears you show Bucky how to change the sheets without jostling him, and Bucky grumbling that youโre a bossy little thing. Your quiet snicker follows, easy enough by then to tell Steve youโve already learnt not to be scared of Buckyโs bark. And it settles him enough to fall back into another slumber.
Yet, when Steve wakes properly, the house is quiet. His mind goes straight trouble - you and Bucky hurt, or worse, taken.Then he sees the fresh cloth waiting on the washstand, the cup of water set near the bed, the plate of food left within reach. Someone has even pulled the blanket back from the edge of his bandage so it wonโt catch when he moves.
Still, his gaze flicks back to the empty chair, a little more wounded at being left alone than heโd admit.ย
But then he hears voices drift in from the window. Yours first, bright enough to pull his eyes open properly.ย Bucky answers beneath it, rougher and far too pleased with himself, and Steve rolls his eyes fondly at the ceiling. He knows Bucky in that mood, and exactly the kind of trouble he thinks heโs charming his way out of.
The sound of you both laughing together is too sweet to resist, and it pulls at Steveย before he can think better of it. So he presses one hand to his side, grits his teeth and pushes himself upright with a low grunt.ย
By the time he makes it to the doorway, heโs sweating through his shirt, and lightheaded enough that he has to lean against the frame for support. But when his vision focuses on the two of you, the pain pulsing from his side seems to subside.ย
Buckyโs leaning against the fence with his sleeves rolled to his elbows - an unabashed display of his toned forearms if Steveโs ever seen one - hat tipped back and a loose board braced beneath his boot. He must have been fixing it before he got distracted. Or before you distracted him. Either way, heโs smiling at you like he knowsย justย how handsome he is, which, Steve thinks fondly,ย he does.
โYou call that fixed?โ you ask, eyeing the board.
โItโs standinโ, ainโt it?โ
โIt was standinโ before.โ
โWell, now itโs standinโ better.โ
Your mouth opens in disbelief, and Buckyโs grin widens like he has been waiting all morning to earn that exact look from you. He shifts the hammer in his hand, letting it hang loose at his side. โYou this particular with all the men who do chores for you?โ
โOnly the ones who do half a job and then stand there lookinโ pleased with themselves.โ You jibe, mouth curving before you can help it. โSteve never gives me cause to complain.โ
Bucky presses a hand to his chest, wounded clean through. โDarlinโ, I am beginninโ to think you donโt appreciate the quality of my help.โ
Steve watches your face as you say it, the way your smile tugs despite your best efforts to keep stern. Youโre standing closer than you need to. Close enough to swat his arm when he mutters something about schoolteachers being as scary as he remembers. Bucky catches your wrist before your hand drops, letting his thumb skim once across the inside of it before he lets it go.
Too friendly, some part of Steve thinks. He should mind that. He knows himself well enough to expect the old ugly twist, the hard little claim in his chest that has no manners and less patience. His girl. His Buck.
โYou remember I have a shotgun, right? Any more excuses from you and Iโll get it back out and see if it motivates you proper,โ you warn, though there is too much warmth in it to do much harm.
Bucky looks far too pleased by that. โHow could I forget?โ He dips his head, absolutely unrepentant. โPretty thing like you pointinโ a gun at me ainโt a picture a man forgets easy.โ
He really should mind that.ย
Only the longer he watches, the more it just seemsโฆย right. Thatโs the simple answer. The more complicated one is that thereโs a want in him he hasnโt allowed himself to acknowledge until now.ย
Then Bucky says something softer, and whatever it is makes your expression change. The teasing slips. You step forward and wrap your arms around him, gentle at first, then tighter when Bucky folds around you in return. His hand spreads over your back, yours presses between his shoulders, and he rests his chin on your head.
Something in Steveโs stomach twists hot, and itโs not the bullet wound.ย
Oh.
Well.
That explains a few things.
When you pull back, your fingers drag lightly down Buckyโs sleeve before falling away.ย And then your eyes catch Steve in the doorway.
The smile drops straight off your face.
โSteve!โ you chide. โGood lord, you shouldnโt be standinโ up yet!โ
Bucky turns fast, all charm gone in an instant. โYou stupid son of aโโ
โWhy arenโt you in bed?โ you demand, already crossing the yard towards him. โYouโre meant to be resting. Youโll tear the stitches, youโllโโ
โWhatโre you doinโ?โ Steve asks.
His voice is rough from sleep and disuse, but it cuts through your panic all the same. You stop a few feet short of him, caught between scolding him like one of your schoolchildren and reaching for him. Bucky has followed you, but that damn mouth of his curves back into his signature smirk.
โStealinโ your woman?โ he replies.
Steve huffs a laugh at that, breath catching a little in his chest from the pull of it. He shakes his head, looking between the two of you with something warm and wry beneath the exhaustion.
โTake her,โ he shrugs,ย turning back towards the house, pretending with little success that every step doesnโt pull at his side.
You both go quiet behind him. Steve pauses at the doorway just long enough to glance back, tired eyes moving between the two of you.
โWhat?โ he says, mouthย twitching as he makes his slow way back to bed. โTake her.โ
Bucky watches him go, grin crooked and eyes a little too soft. โWell, youโre a romantic bastard, Iโll give you that.โ
You climb into bed that night tentatively, careful to keep your distance from Steve so you canโt accidentally hurt him.
He watches you fuss with tired amusement, flat on his back beneath the blankets. Heโs been patient all day because heโs had no choice in the matter, but now, with you so close, what little patience he has left wears thin.
His arm reaches for you beneath the quilt. โCโmere.โ
โBut you need to be carefulโโ
He tugs you closer before you can finish, stubborn as always, and though the movement pulls a faint wince from him, it also draws a low, pleased rumble from his chest when you end up pressed along his side.
โSteve,โ you hiss, braced on one elbow, already trying to take some of your weight off him.ย โYouโre goingโ to hurt yourself.โ
โWorth it,โ he murmurs.
You open your mouth to argue, but his lips find your shoulder first.ย He kisses over your skin lazily, as if he has all the time in the world and no bounty hunter breathing down the road.ย Thenย moves to side of your throat, where his beard scrapes softly enough to make your breath catch. Any protest thins in your mouth and dies there, useless, and the ease with which you melt for him makes Steve smile against your skin.
โMissed you,โ he hums, pleased with himself.
The words catch somewhere tender, and before you can stop it, the fear youโve been holding back for days slips free. โI thought you were goingโ to die.โ
Steveโs mouth stills against your skin. For a moment, he says nothing, then his jaw sets with all the stubborn bravado of a man determined to make the thing smaller than it was.ย โDonโt make a big deal out of it.โ
You stare at him, eyes burning, and Steveโs bravado doesnโt survive it. His expression softens before he pulls you closer despite the faint wince it costs him, burying his face against your neck.
โNo,โ he murmurs, voice rough now. โMake a big deal out of it.โ
Your fingers tighten in his shirt. Steve kisses your temple and lets you hold him as hard as you need to, though you can feel the care he takes with every breath.ย
โYouโre a fool,โย you grumble against his chest.
โI know,โ he agrees easily.
โAnd stubborn.โ
โI know that too,โย he adds, the hint of a smile returning to his voice.
You lift your head enough to glare at him through the last sting behind your eyes. โDonโt sound so smug.โ
โCanโt help it.โ His hand slides from your waist, broad palm warm through the thin cotton of your nightdress. โYou get awful sweet when you forget to be cross with me, maโam.โ
You should scold him. You mean to. Instead your head tips, giving him more room, and Steveโs breath warms where your pulse has already started tripping under his mouth.ย Then his fingers drift lower, gathering your nightdress up slowly so his hand can hand slip between your thighs, and what comes out of you isnโt an answer at all. Itโs too soft, too needy, your hips shifting before your pride can stop them.
Steve only hums, like that tells him everything he needs to know.
โPoor thing,โ he murmurs. โYouโre soaked already.โ
You make a small sound of protest, breath catching asย your hips shift against his palm. โYou should be resting.โ
โIย amย resting,โ he counters. โYouโre the one making all that noise.โ
Heat rushes straight through you. โSteve.โ
He grins, because he knows what that tone means.ย His fingers drag through your pussy, spreading the slick of you over your skin until you canโt hold back the needy little moan that escapes. โBuck been winding you up all day, huh? Flashing those pretty eyes at you, running that mouth, standing too close every chance he got.โ
You bite your lip hard, but Steve knows your body too well by now. The little tremor that goes through you when he presses two fingers to your entrance, and the way your knees loosen when he rubs his thumb over your clit.
โMm. Saw the way you looked at him.โ His thumb presses a little firmer, drawing another helpless sound from you as his voice drops rougher by your ear. โSaw the way he looked at you too. Like he was wondering how sweet youโd sound if somebody got a hand under your skirt.โ
You turn your face into his shoulder, scandalised and burning, but the heat pooling low in you stomach tells a different story. โYou canโt say things like that.โ
โSeems I just did.โ
His fingers push into you then, thick enough to make you clutch at his shirt, his name leaving you in a soft, broken sound. Steve goes still for a breath, jaw tightening as your pussy clenches around him, warm and slick and greedy enough to make him curse the wound in his side for keeping his cock out of you.
โAtta girl,โ he murmurs, voice rough at your ear. โOpen up for me, sweetheart.โ
Your thighs part around his hand, your body taking him with a helpless little roll of your hips. His cock twitches heavy against your leg, and the moan that slips out of you is louder than you mean it to be, needy enough to make heat rush to your face.
โThatโs my girl,โ Steve coos. โBeen so good taking care of me, havenโt you? Let me take care of you now.โ
โWaitโfuckโStevie, heโll hear us.โ you protest weakly,ย eyes flicking toward the door, where Bucky is sleeping on the couch on the other side.
Steveโs fingers slow, but they donโt stop. If anything, his touch turns crueller, pumping in and out of your pussy with an unhurried drag as his thumb circles your clit.
โGood,โ he says at last.
Your eyes widen.
Steve curls his fingers inside you, pressing just right, and your whole body jerks against him. โLet him.โ
Your pussy tightens around him before you can pretend to be scandalised. Steve feels it and smiles, filthy and pleased, as another moan slips out of you. You try to swallow it down, but his thumb keeps stroking your clit and his fingers keep fucking you open, slow enough to make every wet sound feel obscene in the quiet room.
โSโokay, honey,โ he encourages, kissing beneath your ear. โI donโt mind. You make those pretty noises for me and let Buck hear what heโs missinโ out on.โ
โSteve,โ you whimper into his neck, overwhelmed by the heat of it, by the way he says Buckโs name with no jealousy at all. Like it turns him on too. Like he knows exactly what he is doing to you.
His mouth brushes your jaw. โPoor bastard probably spent all afternoon thinkinโ about what youโd sound like if he got his hands on you,โ he rumbles, fingers driving deeper until your breath catches sharp. โNow heโs out there listeninโ to me do it.โ
Your fingers curl in the front of his shirt, hips moving against his hand now, chasing more. Steve makes a rough sound like the sight of you fucking yourself on his fingers might kill him faster than any bounty hunter ever could.
Then your hand slides lower before you can think better of it, finding the hard line of his cock through his drawers. He curses under his breath, hips twitching once into your palm before pain catches at him and makes his jaw clench.
You pull back instantly. โSteveโโ
โDonโt.โ His hand tightens on your thigh, stubborn even now, even with sweat at his temple and breath caught in his chest. โIโm fine, pretty girl, promise.ย Just need your hand on my cock. Need my girl to make it better.โ
Your answering moan is too wanton to stifle, and out on the couch, Bucky hears it.ย
Heโs been awake for a while, one arm thrown over his eyes, every sore port of him arguing with the hard springs beneath the couch cushion. At first, he told himself he was just listening for Steve - thatโs reasonable enough. A man has a right to keep an ear out for his best friend when said friend has nearly bled dry on a kitchen table. And if said friend is in bed with his pretty little woman, well, thatโs hardly his fault,ย is it?
He knows should roll over and try to sleep. Or do literally anything other than listen to the needy catch in your breath when Steveโs fingers must find something good. Heat pulls through him before he can talk sense into himself. Itโs been crawling under his skin all day. And now Steveโs voice is torturing him in the dark, coaxing the prettiest noises out of you like he means for Bucky to hear everyone.
His hand slides down over the hard ache in his trousers before he can pretend better of himself. His hips jerk into his palm at the first firm press.ย
Bucky shuts his eyes as his lips part around a groan of relief.ย
He should feel worse about it, probably. A gentleman might. Then again, heโs never made much of a claim to being one, and thereโs nothing gentlemanly about Steve is talking to you through the door. Low and rough, sweet in all the wrong places, telling you how good you are for him whilst you make those soft ruined sounds that go straight to Buckyโs cock.
His fingers work the buttons of his trousers open, and heโs so wound up that the first touch to his throbbing length makes his hips jerk up.ย Heโs already hard enough to hurt, thick and hot in his grip, precum slicking the head as he strokes once from base to tip. He has to force himself slower so he doesnโt spill too fast, listening to the shift of the bed in the next room and the wet sound of Steveโs fingers fucking you.
โDonโt hide from me,โ Steve rumbles, voice carrying just enough. โWant him to hear how pretty you get when you comeโ
The needy moan you cry out in response, makes Buckyโs hand tighten and his eyes squeeze shut. He can picture it all wall for a man who hasnโt a right to see any of it. Your thighs spread under Steveโs hand, nightdress pushed up, tucking your face into Steveโs neck as you try and fail to keep quit. Steve, wounded and recovering, still generous enough to make sure Bucky knows what heโs missing.ย
โStevie,โ you gasp, and Buckyโs cock jerks in his fist.
He drags his thumb over the swollen head with enough pressure to make his stomach pull tight. The couch springs creak beneath him when his hips jump into his hand, and he freezes momentarily, listening. But neither of you stop. If anything, Steve laughs, low and filthy, like he heard the sound and knows eaxctly what it means.ย
โThatโs it, sweetheart,โ Steve groans. โBet Buckโs got his hand around his cock right now, listeninโ to you. Bet he canโt help himself.โ
Bucky presses his forearm over his mouth, a helpless grin pulling at him even as pleasure burns through his gut. Bastard. Mean, beautiful bastard. He strokes himself harder, giving up on pacing himself, fist slick and tight around his cock as your moans slip through the thin bedroom door and wrap around every filthy picture Steve puts in his head.
โWish he could see you right now,โ Steve goads, and Bucky nearly spills right there. โSo wet for me. Sweet little pussy takinโ my fingers so good. Heโd lose his fuckinโ mind.โ
His hips buck desperately into his first, breath coming harsh through his nose as Steve keeps talking like he knows every dirty place Buckyโs mind has gone and means to walk you through all of them. Your moans pitcher higher, thinner, more desperate.
โPleaseย Stevieโso close,โ you whine, and Bucky doesnโt think heโs ever heard anything more beautiful.ย
โIโve got you, sweet girl,โ Steve coos. โCome for me. Let him hear.โ
The sound you make as you fall apart under Steveโs hand is obscene. You pleasure spills out into the dark as Steve praises you in that honey-deep registerย like heโs got his fingers buried in the best thing heโs ever touched. Bucky strokes himself harder, cock slick in his fist, teeth digging into his wrist to keep his own noise down.
Then Steve groans low around a curse, andย God, Bucky knows that sound.ย Learnt on cold nights under open sky when bedrolls were laid a polite distance apart and neither of them ever spoke of what they heard in the dark.
But hearing it now, with you, is enoughย to finish off what your moans started.
His hand works faster, rougher, chasing it until he spills over his own knuckles. He strokes himself through it, hips jerking up into his fist, hot cum slicking his fingers while the last of Steveโs filthy praise drifts through the door.
Head falling back against the couch, he throws his free hand over his eyes again as if that might make a decent man of him after the fact. But the other is still loose around his sensitive, softening cock.ย From the bedroom, Steve mutters something too low for him too catch, but you laugh in response, breathless.
Bucky smiles up at the ceiling, completely and utterly fucked. Both of you tucked under his skin, deep as a wound and twice as troublesome.ย
โRomantic bastard,โ he scoffs into the dark.
ย You wake reaching for Steve, hands sliding over the sheets in search of the warmth thatโs usually gone by the time daylight finds you. For one awful, familiar second, your heat braces for emptiness, and then your fingers meet his chest.ย Still there.
The joy it brings is so small and foolish it almost hurts. Steveโs still beside you, warm beneath your palm, alive beneath your hand, his breath moving slow and steady. You donโt mean to smile as hard as you do for something that wonโt last, but you feel it happen anyway.ย
Steveโs eyes crack open, tired blue finding you through the grey morning light. His mouth curves faintly.ย
โMorninโ,โ he rasps.ย
He lifts a hand with more effort than he lets show and brushes his knuckles along your cheek before drawing you close enough to kiss your forehead. It is gentle. Domestic, almost, in a way that feels absurd given the blood dried somewhere in your kitchen and the wanted posters nailed up in town.
But then Steve starts trying to get up. He looks pale enough that you threaten him twice before he gets both feet on the floor.ย
โYou are pale enough to haunt this house, Steve Rogers.ย Sit still.โ
His brows lift, innocent as sin. โJusโ thinkinโ about breakfast is all, maโam, swear.โ
He takes your continued scolding with a faint curve to his mouth, one hand shielding the wound slightly, as you get up to help him dress. He even lets you fuss over him, and you breathe a sigh of relief when you see no red blooming on his bandages.ย
By the time you get him into the kitchen, his jaw his set hard enough to make you narrow your eyes. Steve takes your silent warning and lowers himself into the chair before bringing your hand to his mouth and kissing the inside of it. Just a brief, warm brush of his lips, eyes lifting to yours in quiet apology for every minute heโs made your heart suffer these last few days.
The door opens before you can say anything soft enough to embarrass you both. Bucky steps inside with a sack under one arm; heโs been gone since first light, having ridden into town for coffee, cartridges, and whatever else two outlaws and one increasingly compromised schoolteacher might need. Youโre expecting some crooked remark as he kicks the door shut behind him. Maybe something about Steve looking less like a corpse, or you running the kitchen like a jailhouse.
Instead, his face is grim.
Steve clocks it immediately, and his shoulders straighten. Pain forgotten under the old readiness that lives dormant in him until needed. โWhat?โ
Bucky sets the sack on the table. โYou feel well enough to ride?โ
Steve frowns. โIf I have to.โ
โGood.โ Buckyโs eyes flick over you, brows tightening, then back to Steve. โRumlowโs in town, asking questions at the mercantile. Offered coin for anyone who knew anythinโ about Steve Rogers and The Winter Kid.โ
Steve face flattens, jaw setting into that hardened mask he uses to cover whatever else heโs feeling. Nodding once, he pushes up from the chair.
โSteveโโ you start at once.
He bends and kisses you before you can finish, once hand gentle at the side of your face. It tastes too close to a goodbye kiss for your heart to bare, and the panic rises in your throat.
โWeโll draw him off, honey,โ he murmurs, clearly misinterpreting your worry. โHe wonโt know you had anything to do with us.โ
Then he turns to Bucky. โGet the horses ready. Weโll cut south - maybe this time we stop talking about Mexico and actually head there.โ
Mexico?
You look from Steve to Bucky, at the silent communication already passing between them, and the speed with which they become men leaving. Men packing their lives into saddlebags. Men deciding what they can carry and what must be left, including, apparently, you.ย
โTake me with you.โ
Both of them immediately stop.
Steve turns firs,t protest already written across his face. โSweetheart, you canโt seriously โโ
Bucky interrupts, sharper. โAbsolutely not.โ
โI wasnโt askinโ,โ you counter firmly, mustering upย the same voice you use in the schoolhouse when a child thinks they might try their luck.
Steveโs brows pull together. โYou donโt know what youโre suggestinโ.โ
โI do.โ
โYou donโt.โ Bucky cuts in, which only makes you angrier. โThis life ainโtโโ
โAinโt what?โ you return. โFor aย lady?โ
That closes his mouth. For once, Bucky Barnes has no clever answer ready, and Steve looks no better. The two of them stand there, each searching for the combination of words least likely to upset you further and finding none fast enough.
โAfter last night, I think any claim I had to beinโ a lady has been thoroughly mishandled.โ
A flush climbs through the rough gold of Steveโs beard at once, and he drops his eyes to the table as if the wood grain has become a matter of deep interest. Bucky looks toward the window with equal dignity, which is to say very little, given what he had so clearly heard through your bedroom door.ย But you feel a little wild with it now. Freed by the strange relief of having already stepped over the edge in your own mind.
โIโm a schoolteacher in a town thatโs been dyinโ for years,โ you continue. โFolk still smile at me like Iโm still respectable, but every year I stay unmarried, they look a little closer for the rot. And every night I come back to this house alone, and wait to hear news of Steveโs death.โ
Steveโs face falls, and he looks at you with such earnest guilt that you have to look away or youโll lose the nerve to finish. Your eyes sting badly enough that you have to blink hard and focus on staring at the floorboards.
โIโm no fool,โ you say. โI know what Iโm sayinโ. Long days. Cold nights. Men with guns behind us. I know it wonโt be some grand adventure out of a penny paper.โ You lift your head again. โBut I want a life I choose. I want more than waitinโ in this house for grief to come find me. And I want to be with you.โ
Bucky looks at Steve then, and Steve returns it. They do that thing again where a whole conversation seems to pass without either of them opening their mouth, and you can already tell this is a feature of them that will get on your nerves. Still, you stand there and wait. You can see them weighing the right choice. You can also see, with a painful twist of hope, that neither of them likes the thought of leaving you behind.
Steve exhales through his nose. โYouโd have to listen.โ
โTo both of us,โ Bucky adds. โWhen it counts. If Steve says run, you run. If I say stay put, you donโt move a muscle.โ
โYouโll ride until you ache,โ Steve says, eyes searching your face for the first sign of regret. โSleep under open sky. Eat beans out of a tin when thereโs nothing else.ย Go without a proper bed more often than youโll have one.โ
Bucky leans his hip against the table, arms folding, his expression hard despite the tired edge of him. โAnd youโll keep that shotgun close. Learn a pistol too, whether you like it or not. Pretty face wonโt do much good if Rumlow catches up.โ
โIโll do it,โ you agree, looking at Steve first, then Bucky, making yourself hold both their gazes long enough for them to see thereโs fear in you, plenty of it. Just none useful enough to change your mind. โIโll do it all, I promise.โ
They seem satisfied enough to move again, almost. Steveโs hand twitches toward the supplies, Buckyโs eyes flick to the door. But you stop them before the moment can run away from you.
โThe only thing I wonโt do,โ you continue, quieter, โis watch either of you die. Iโll skip that scene, if you donโt mind.โ
Steveโs hand closes around yours before you can busy yourself with anything else, or turn away and pretend the words werenโt all too honest.
โOnce we go,โ his eyes hold steady on yours, โwe go.โ
Thereโs warning in it, but thereโs promise too. You squeeze his hand in confirmation.ย
โThen letโs go.โ
You leave before the town has finished waking, with no grand farewell to your little house. Just five minutes to pack the essentials, and everything else left behind for the town to make stories about two bad men and the lady they corrupted.
For the first couple weeks, you ride with Bucky. At first, Steve enjoys watching the two of you grow closer. But a few days passย without your arms around his waist and the man starts acting abandoned. Nothing dramatic, of course. Steve Rogers is far too dignified for that. He only gets quieter, pouts into his coffee, and looks at you from under those ridiculous lashes with his pretty blue eyes, utterly wounded.
But thereโs only so much sympathy you can give him when every jolt of his horse leaves his face tight and grey - having you pressed against his side would pull at the wound no matter how carefully you held him, so you sit behind Bucky instead. Your arms wrap around his middle, sometimes resting your cheek between his shoulder blades when the road stretches long.
Heโs always warm - despite the nickname - and complains when your cold hands slip under his coat in the mornings, but never makes you move them.
Itโs on one such morning that the question slips out before itโs even fully formed in your head. Absent in its curiosity.ย
โBucky?โ
He turns his head back slightly, catching your face in the corner of his eye.ย โHmm?โ
Your chin is hooked over his shoulder, the brim of his hat shading your eyes from the sun. Steve is riding a bit ahead, far enough to pretend heโs not listening and close enough you know he is.
โDo you ever wonder, if Iโd met you first, that weโd be the ones the get involved?โ
Bucky makes a thoughtful sound, as though this is a matter requiring serious study. โBut we are involved, sugar.โ
You lift your head. โAre we?โ
โYouโre ridinโ my horse with me.โ His hand covers yours where it rests against his stomach, thumb brushing once over your knuckles. โIn some countries, thatโs the same as being married.โ
Steve glances back over his shoulder. โName one.โ
โPlenty, Stevie,โ Bucky shoots back without missing a beat. โJust โcause you ainโt a romantic donโt mean it ainโt true.โ
โThat mean you donโt know any?โ
โMeans Iโm a man of mystery, Rogers. Let me have that.โ
You laugh into Buckyโs shoulder, and Steve turns forward again, shaking his head. Even from behind, you can see the curve at the corner of his mouth.
That becomes one of the biggest pleasures of the road, the two of them bickering like an old married couple with loaded guns and a shared talent for pretending they are the sensible one. Steve corrects Buckyโs directions. Bucky mocks Steveโs caution. Steve tells him caution is the reason heโs still alive, and Bucky retorts, โBarely,โ with a pointed look at the bandage under his shirt.ย
You learn to sit between it and smile into the back of Buckyโs coat, warm with the strange comfort of being folded into something that clearly existed long before you and somehow has made room for you anyway.
The weeks begin to fold into one another after that, measured less by days than by how far Steve can ride before pain makes him stubbornly quiet. He never says when itโs too much - of course he doesnโt. But you both learn the signs, so that when that happens, you or Bucky find an excuse to stop. Steve accepts each excuse with the grateful dignity of a man who knows precisely what youโre doing and lacks the strength to protest.
Some nights you find a town small enough to risk, and the three of you take one room under a false name while Steve lies stiff on the bed and Bucky sleeps in the chair with a gun across his lap. Other nights, there is only open country and the fire between you, Buckyโs coat under your head, Steveโs hand tucked around your waist, pleased now he can finally pull you close.
You learn quickly; you have to.ย
How to ride until your thighs ache and keep your complaints mostly to yourself. How to drink bad coffee without making a face. How to keep your hair pinned under a hat when passing through towns where a woman travelling with two men draws more attention than a pair of wanted faces.
Bucky teaches you to shoot a pistol at a row of bottles outside an abandoned line shack, and Steve stands behind you, correcting your grip until Bucky accuses him of distracting you.ย
Rumlow stays behind you like bad weather you canโt outride, always somewhere on the edge of the horizon. Some days thereโs no sign of him at all. Other days Bucky comes back from a supply run with his jaw tight, or Steve sees something in the dirt that makes both men go quiet. Neither of them likes fear on your face, so you learn how to hide that, too.
By the time Steveโs stitches come out, the three of you have already become a kind of routine.
Steve reads the land ahead. Bucky watches what follows. You keep track of the food, the clean cloth, and all the small human things the two of them would forget in favour of keeping moving. You sleep between them when the nights turn cold, Bucky pressed at your back and Steve careful against your front, one arm laid over your waist like even in sleep he means to keep you safe. Nobody ever says much about it in the morning.
But the trouble with Mexico is that it keeps costing money. By the third month, the coins in Buckyโs purse have started to sound lonely, and Steve has taken to rationing his own portions to make sure you have enough. You always protest that he needs it more, but it falls on deaf ears.
โWe need money,โ Bucky says one evening, poking at the fire with a stick.
Steve doesnโt look up from the map. โI know.โ
โWe need quite a bit of money.โ
โI know.โ
You look between them. โWhy do I get the feelinโ neither of you is about to suggest honest work?โ
Bucky grins. Steve sighs.
A plan is soon in place, and you quickly realise you arenโt just being given soft work. They arenโt just tucking you safely away and asking you to wait pretty by the horses.ย No, youโre the distraction. Steve watches your face intently whilst they explain your part,ย searching for fear, and Bucky watches your hands to see if they shake. They do, a little. You tell him they shake less when people stop staring at them.
โMean little thing when youโre nervous,โ Bucky murmurs.
โYouโd know better than to test me, then,โ you snap back, much to his delight.
And thatโs how you find yourself in your best dress two mornings later, walking into a town that has never heard your name and smiling sweetly at the bank clerk while Steve and Bucky do what Steve Rogers and The Winter Kid apparently do very well.
Soon, thereโs a saddle under your hips, stolen money in Steveโs saddle bag and Bucky laughing as the town bell starts clanging behind you. Steve rides quietly beside you, one hand low on his reins, hat pulled low against the flare. He looks more pensive than youโd expect for a man who just planned and executed a successful robbery.ย
โYou know,โ he considers, tilting his head. โWhen I was a kid, I always figured on beinโ a hero when I grew up.โ
โToo late now,โ Bucky shoots back instantly.
Steve turns in the saddle, mouth pulled into an exaggerated pout thatย almostย looks genuinely hurt by the insinuation. โYou didnโt have to say thatโWhatโd you have to say that for?โ
โBecause we just robbed a bank and youโre gettinโ wistful about virtue. Felt like someone ought to keep you on track.โ
You laugh before you can stop yourself, and Steve looks betrayed for all of half a second before his own mouth gives him away.
โI could still be heroic,โ he argues.
โOf course, Stevie,โย you soothe, reaching over to squeeze his arm. โAnd if heroism ever starts includinโ bank robbery, youโll be the first man I nominate.โ
Steve shakes his head, but thereโs warmth in it. Thereโs warmth amongst all three of you now.ย The money will carry you further south. Rumlow, for the moment, is behind you. And for one bright stretch of road, with the sun high and the horses steady beneath you, the three of you ride easy.
When you reach the next town just before dark, itโs mercifully large enough to have a hotel, though only just.ย The main building fronts the street, while a handful of squat lodging cabins stand behind it beside the stable yard, each containing little more than a bed, a washstand and a door that locks.
Youโve already separated from Bucky two streets over - two men and a woman trying to book one cabin would draw eyes. A man and his wife, tired from the road and keen to be left alone, draw far fewer.
Bucky will return after dark with supplies and come through the open window like any decent outlaw.
By now, the routine is well worn. Steve keeps his hat low and asks for a room for himself and his wife. Your stomach gives a foolish little turn at the word, which is unhelpful given the circumstances, so you tuck yourself closer into his side and play your part.
The clerk turns the ledger around. โName?โ
Steve takes the pen and writes one of the names agreed between the three of you, this time settling on Mr. and Mrs. Drysdale.
The clerks eyes move over Steve as he writes, a little too closely for your liking.ย Steveโs hat shadows most of his face, though there is only so much a brim can do against a jaw like his. Then the clerkโs gaze drops to you, lingering on the plain dress, the tired hem, the cheap ring on your finger where your hand rests neatly against Steveโs sleeve.
โLong road?โ he asks.
โLong enough,โ you answer before Steve can, sweet and harmless. โMy husbandโs been poor company since noon.โ
The clerkโs mouth twitches. โThat so?โ
โI get hungry,โ Steve says.
โHe getsย sulky,โ you correct.
The clerk looks amused now, his suspicion giving way to the easier pleasure of watching a married couple prod at each other. He reaches for a key from the row behind him.
โCabin four,โ he says. โOut and to the right.โ
Steve takes the key with a polite nod, your hand still tucked around his arm, and the two of you make your way to the cabin to wait for Bucky and whatever trouble he tends to bring back with him.
But exhaustion claims you before said trouble arrives. You barely manage to loosen your dress before crawling beneath the covers, telling Steve you only mean to close your eyes whilst he checks the room. The bed feels strangely wide after so many nights spent wedged between two warm bodies beneath the open sky. Even when there had only been Steve beside you, his arm always fond your waist before sleep did.ย
Tonight, the empty space at your back bothers you more than it ought to, and you drift off feeling faintly abandoned by both outlaws.ย
Until finally you stir to the mattress dipping behind you and warmth settling along your back. Itโs broad and familiar enough that your half-asleep mind doesnโt ask questions. Instead, you arch back into him, pleased to have your outlaw close, fitting your ass against his hips.ย
Impatiently, and a little pointedly, you reach back for the arm that has failed to wrap itself around you. You drag it over your waist and hold is hand beneath yours.ย
โTook you long enough,โ you mumble into the pillow, a little pout tucked into the words. After all those weeks of Steve looking wounded whenever you rode with Bucky, he might at least have the decency to act pleased now that he can pull you close whenever.
His body goes stiff, and you take the teasing for what it is, grinding back again. Slower this time,ย rolling your ass over the shape beneath his trousers until his cock begins to harden against you. A strained breath warms the back of your neck. Then another, rougher, when you press closer and keep moving, sleepy need gathering fast between your thighs.
Still, his hand remains where you put it.
Your brows pinch. Steve has never needed this much encouragement where you;re concerned. Usually, one soft sound from you is enough to have him pushing up your skirts and getting greedy with whatever he finds beneath them.
โStevie,โ you whine, catching his wrist again. โQuit makinโ me ask.โ
You guide his hand down over your stomach and between your thighs, pressing his palm against the heat gathered beneath your drawers. His fingers flex once. The groan that leaves him is low and delicious beside your ear, and you answer it with a needy little roll of your hips, trying to coax his hand into giving you what you want.
โThatโs it, honey.โ You hear Steve drawl, but his voice doesnโt come from behind you. โKeep grindinโ that pretty ass over Buckโs cock, heโs been waitinโ weeks to feel how sweet you are.โ
Your eyes snap open.ย
Steve is sat in the chair near the window, one ankle hooked over the other, watching the two of you through the low lamplight. His hat rests on the table beside him, hair pushed back from his face, and the hard shape beneath his trousers leaves little doubt as to how much heโs been enjoying the view.
Behind you, Bucky has gone completely still. His hand remains trapped between your thighs where you placed it, fingers flexing once against the damp cloth of your drawers before stopping again.
Steve catches the hesitation on your face.
โEasy, pretty girl,โ he coos, voice dropping softer. โYouโre alright.ย Ainโt nobody cross with you.โ
His gaze stays warm and steady on yours, settling some of the panic before it can take hold. Bucky makes no attempt to claim what you offered him in your sleep, leaving the choice entirely with you now that youโre awake, and the restraint loosens something in your chest.
You sink back against him again, and a quiet, needy โSteveโ slips from your mouth.ย
โWell, quit teasinโ him then, sweetheart. You dragged Buckโs hand down to that needy pussy yourself.โ His eyes stay on yours, smile turning wicked. โYou want him to touch you, donโt you?โ
You nod, โYes, Stevie,ย please.โ
Approval rumbles from Steve across the room at the same moment Bucky groans against your shoulder. His hand finally moves, slipping beneath the damp cloth between your thighs and dragging two rough fingers through the slick gathered there.
โChrist,โ Bucky breathes, the word warm against your neck. โYouโre soaked through darlinโ.โ
Your hips chase his hand before you can help it, opening wider as his fingers circle your clit.ย He parts you slowly, gathering the mess of you over his fingertips before circling your clit. And God, does he learn quickly.ย Taking each broken breath and twitch of your thighs as instruction, until your body is rolling against him with shameless impatience.
โThat feel good?โ he murmurs. โBeen wondering how sweet youโd get for me.โ
You whine and press back against him, already impatient, already desperate for more than the teasing drag of his fingers. Bucky laughs softly into your neck, pleased by how quickly you come apart for him.
โYeah, I can feel that.โ One finger presses into your pussy, drawing a thin moan from you as he works it deeper. โTaking me so easy. Such a good girl for us.โ
Bucky pushes a second finger into your pussy, and the stretch of them pulls a broken moan from you. His hand is rougher than Steveโs, the calluses catching at tender places as he works you open, but he watches every reaction with the same focused attention he gives everything. One curl of his fingers makes your thighs tremble, and he does it again immediately.
Steve watches from the chair with one hand resting over the hard shape in his trousers, his eyes fixed on the way you grind down over Buckyโs knuckles.
โThat it?โ he asks against your skin. โRight there, sugar?โ
โYesโGod, Buckโโ
Bucky curses when your walls tighten around him. โSheโs so damn sweet, Stevie.โ
Steveโs mouth curves.
โIf you think sheโs sweet around your fingers,โ he says, voice low enough to make your stomach clench, โwait till you get a taste of her.โ
The thought pulls a desperate sound from you. Bucky answers with a groan of his own, his fingers curling inside you as his gaze drops hungrily between your thighs from over your shoulder. Your hand is already reaching back, fingers tangling in his dark hair as you twist toward him and tug with very little patience left.
Bucky goes willingly, laughing once under his breath as he lets you pull him down the bed, tugging down your drawers as he goes.
โThat eager, darlinโ?โ
โYes,โ you gasp, spreading your thighs wider to accommodate those broad shoulders. โPlease.โ
Steve leans back in the chair, hand now palming over his cock as he watches.
โGo on, Buck,โ he drawls. โShow her that mouthโs good for something besides beinโ a clever jackass.โ
The first slow drag of Buckyโs tongueย through you tears a cry from your throat. His hands close around your hips at once, holding you open while he tastes you again, deeper this time, mouth working with none of the caution his fingers had shown. He licks through every slick fold, groaning against your pussy.
Then his tongue circles your clit, and your hips jerk sharply into his face.
โThere,โ Steve rumbles, hand pressing harder over his thick length, still trapped beneath too much fabric. โShe likes it right there. Donโt rush her, Buck. Keep your tongue flat and make her grind on it.โ
Bucky follows the instruction immediately. He spreads his mouth over you, tongue broad and slow beneath your clit while his grip shifts lower, fingers digging into the soft flesh beneath your thighs to pull you closer. Your back arches, breath breaking into a helpless whine as you begin to move against him, too desperate to stay still and too overwhelmed to find any rhythm beyond chasing whatever his mouth gives you.
โThatโs it,โ Bucky praises against you. โGood girl. Use me.โ
His words vibrate through your pussy and leave you clenching around nothing. He feels it, answers with another hungry groan, then slips two fingers back inside you while his mouth returns to your clit.
The room seems to tilt.
โBuckโSteveโGodโโ
Their names tangle together as Bucky curls his fingers into the place that makes your thighs shake.ย Steve keeps talking from across the room, telling Bucky when to press harder, when to keep his mouth where it is, every quiet command proving how well he knows your body and how willingly Bucky is learning it.
Pleasure builds so quicklyย that instinct has you trying to squirm away from it. Your hips twist even as they buck toward him, hands scrambling over the sheets while Bucky holds you firmly in place and refuses to let the distance grow.
โEasy, darlinโ,โ he soothes, breathless against you. โIโve got you. Let me have it.โ
But you canโt. You need more. Need both of them.
Your hand reaches blindly toward Steve even though heโs still too far away, fingers stretching uselessly through the space between you as his name leaves you in a broken plea. โStevie.โ
Heโs out of the chair before the word has finished.ย Steve comes to the bedside and catches your reaching hand, pressing it against his chest as he bends over you.
โIโm here, pretty girl,โ he coos. โYou close?โ
You nod frantically, one hand clutching his shirt and dragging him lower because words have abandoned you. Steve lets himself be pulled into the kiss, mouth covering yours just as Buckyโs tongue flicks hard over your clit again.
You moan against Steveโs lips as his hand slides into Buckyโs hair.
โCloser, Buck,โ Steve pants into your mouth, pushing him more firmly between your thighs. โSheโs trying to run from it. Donโt let her.โ
Bucky groans and buries his face deeper, lips and tongue turning greedy while Steve kisses you through every broken sound. The hand in Buckyโs hair holds him just where you need him, and Steveโs other palm cups your jaw, keeping your mouth against his as your body begins to lose all control.
โThatโs my best girl,โย Steve praises between kisses.ย โLettinโ me share this sweet pussy with Buck. Look how greedy youโve got him.โ
Your fingers knot in Steveโs shirt as your hips rise hard against Buckyโs face, chasing the relentless pressure of his tongue. Bucky holds you there and eats you through it, groaning when your thighs close around his head and the first desperate pulse of your orgasm rolls over his mouth.
You come with Steveโs name breaking against his lips and Buckyโs muffled beneath it, your whole body shuddering as slick spills over Buckyโs tongue and chin. Steve kisses every cry from you while Bucky greedily laps at everything you give him, refusing to stop until you are trembling and breathless between them.
Only then does Steve ease his hold in Buckyโs hair.
Bucky lifts his head slowly, mouth shining and eyes dark with satisfaction, looking every bit as wrecked as you feel. Heโs knelt between your thighs, one hand warm against your hip, whilst Steve is still leant over you.ย It leaves them close enough that Steveโs gaze has nowhere else to fall but Buckyโs mouth.
โFuck Stevie,โ he breathes,ย wiping his thumb beneath his lip only to suck the taste from it. โCanโt believe you kept her to yourself for so long. Greedy bastard.โ
But Steveโs gaze is too focused on Buckyโs swollen lips, glistening with your arousal, for his brain to think of a response. His tongue flicks out absently,ย sweeping over his lower lip as though he can already taste you there. The hunger in his face is so plain that your hand rises almost instinctively, fingers curling around his jaw and drawing him toward Bucky.
Their mouths meet hard enough to pull a startled sound from Bucky, and for one suspended second neither man moves. Steveโs hand stays curled around his jaw. Buckyโs fingers bunch in the front of Steveโs shirt. The rough scrape of stubble and the unfamiliar shape of another manโs mouth seem to catch them both off guard.
But then Bucky pulls him closer.
Steve takes hold of the back of his neck and kisses him properly, tongue pushing into Buckyโs mouth with a low groan, greedy for every trace of you left on his tongue.ย Bucky answers with all the hunger he had just spent between your thighs, opening for him as though this is something they have been circling for years without ever daring to name.
The sight of them together sends fresh heat curling low in your stomach.
Steveโs tongue pushes deeper into Buckyโs mouth, licking over his lips and teeth as though Bucky has become another place from which Steve can take his fill. Bucky groans,ย one hand sliding around the back of Steveโs neck while the other tightens possessively on your thigh.ย Every reckless rescue, every night spent back to back beneath the open sky, every time one of them chose the other without hesitation finally makes sense for what it has always been.
Your slick still glistens on Buckyโs chin. Steveโs mouth smears through it as the kiss deepens, and neither of them seems to care where one taste ends and the other begins. Years of rough affection and stranger devotion turn filthy in front of you, Steve holding Bucky by the jaw while Bucky bites lightly at his lower lip before drawing him back in, as if now they have finally started, neither of them knows how to stop.
Then Buckyโs hand drops between them. His palm settles over Steveโs straining cock, and Steve groans into the kiss.ย Bucky rubs him slowly through the fabric, swallowing each low moan Steve gives him while Steve keeps one hand firm at the back of his neck. They look made for this, rough hands and parted mouths, years of devotion finding a new language right in front of you, and the thought leaves you aching all over again.
Your thighs shift restlessly beneath them. One hand slips between your legs, fingers finding your swollen clit while you watch Bucky palm Steveโs cock through his trousers. A moan escapes before you can smother it.
Their kiss breaks, both men looking down at you, though their foreheads remain pressed together.ย Buckyโs mouth is red and wet, Steveโs no better, and neither of them moves for a moment as they watch your fingers circle desperately between your thighs.
โWell, look at her,โ Bucky murmurs, his hand still cupped around Steve. โGot herself all worked up watching us.โ
You whine softly, pressing harder against your clit.
Steveโs eyes darken. โPoor pretty thing.โ
Bucky gives Steveโs cock another slow squeeze, making his jaw tighten. โReckon we ought to find that mouth something to do besides whine.โ
He shifts farther onto the bed and settles on his knees near the headboard, giving you room to turn beneath him. You move eagerly onto your hands and knees, facing Steve with Bucky still kneeling behind you, close enough that his thighs frame yours and his chest brushes your back when he leans over.
Bucky reaches around you before you can, fingers working open Steveโs trousers slowly at first, then surer when Steve does nothing to stop him.ย His hand closes around Steveโs cock as it spills free, heavy against his palm, the skin flushed deep at the head and drawn tight over the thick ridge beneath it. The vein you know so well runs dark along the underside, disappearing into Buckyโs fist when he gives one cautious stroke.
Steveโs head tips back on a broken groan.
The sound seems to delight Bucky, eyes dropping to watch his hand move again, slower this time, thumb dragging over the wet slit before sliding back down the length of him. Steveโs broad chest rises sharply beneath his shirt, every muscle in his shoulders pulled tight with the effort of holding still while Bucky learns how easily he can make him come apart.
Something needy catches inside you at the sight. Youโve heard that sound beneath your own hands too many times to let Bucky keep it all to himself.
You lean forward and press your lips to the swollen head, kissing it once before your tongue slips out to taste the slick Bucky has spread there. Steveโs breath breaks again, rougher now, and you follow the thick vein beneath his cock with a slow drag of your tongue, smiling when his hips twitch toward your mouth.
You kiss the tip again, softer this time, letting your lips linger around the crown.ย Steveโs hand braced against the headboard curls hard enough that the wood gives a quiet complaint beneath his grip.
Behind you, Bucky makes a low sound of disapproval.
โNow that ainโt kind,โ he murmurs, gathering your hair away from your face with one hand. โStevieโs been real good, lettinโ me have my fill of you, and here you are making him suffer for it.โ
Steve tries to laugh, but it comes out rough and unsteady when you trace the underside of his cock with the tip of your tongue, following that thick vein until his hips jerk helplessly toward you again.ย Buckyโs fingers tighten in your hair.
โThink you oughta thank him proper.โ
The push is slow but firm, guiding you down Steveโs length before you can tease him again. Your lips stretch around him as inch after inch slides over your tongue, Bucky holding your hair clear while he eases you forward until the swollen tip presses into your throat. You gag softly around him, eyes watering as your hands catch at Steveโs thighs, and the sound Steve makes is loud enough to fill the room.
His forehead drops against Buckyโs.
โFuck,โ he groans straight into Buckyโs mouth, breath breaking between them while your throat works helplessly around his cock. โSweet girl, always so damn good to me.โ
The praise goes straight through you. You moan around him, and Steve curses as the vibration rolls over his cock.
Buckyโs grip settles more firmly in your hair, guiding you back until Steveโs cock slips from your throat and then forward again in one slow, measured stroke. He controls the pace with an ease that makes your stomach tighten, keeping you steady while your lips drag over every inch of Steve. Each pass pulls another sound from Steve, his restraint coming apart piece by piece as the two of you work together to ruin him.
Bucky watches it happen with open satisfaction. His fingers tighten whenever Steveโs hips twitch, holding you in place long enough to make him feel the wet heat of your mouth before easing you back again.ย When your throat tightens around him and pulls another helpless groan from his chest, Bucky closes the distance and kisses him, swallowing every broken breath you pull from Steve as you bob on his cock.
ย Then Steve seems to decide heโs had enough of Bucky being the only one left with any composure.ย His hand drops between you, fumbling once at Buckyโs trousers before dragging them open. Buckyโs breath breaks into the kiss when Steve wraps a fist around his cock, giving him an experimental stroke.
โStevie,โ Bucky groans against his lips.
Steveโs mouth curves against his. He pumps him again, firmer this time, and the sound Bucky makes rolls straight through you. It leaves you suddenly, painfully aware of the hard weight of him behind you, of how close his cock is to the slick heat between your thighs while his hand remains tangled in your hair.
Your knees edge farther apart without thought.
The movement opens you beneath him, your hips rocking back in a needy little invitation even as your mouth continues working over Steve. Bucky feels it immediately. His free hand slides down your spine and cups your ass, spreading you wider as his thumb traces through the slick already coating your inner thighs.
โGoddamn,ย sugar, look at you,โ he breathes , looking down at the wet heat waiting behind you. โSpread wide and drippinโ all over yourself for my cock.โ
Steve follows his gaze.
His fist slows around Buckyโs cock, drawing the swollen head through the mess between your thighs. You whimper around Steve as Buckyโs cock slides over your clit and nudges against your entrance.
Bucky presses forward slowly, teasing you with every inch of his cock.ย He isnโt as thick as Steve, but he is longer, the stretch different enough to wrench a muffled cry from you around the cock already filling your mouth. Your pussy opens greedily for him, slick walls fluttering as he sinks deeper until the head of him kisses your cervix and leaves you shuddering between them.
โFuck me, Steve,โ Bucky groans, driving in until his hips meet your ass. โYou been fillinโ this pussy every chance you get and sheโs still tight enough to choke my cock.โ
Steveโs cock pulses over your tongue at the words. You barely have enough strength left to hold yourself upright, arms trembling beneath you while Bucky draws back and fills you again, each long stroke knocking the breath from your lungs. Steveโs hips begin to move with him, pushing into your mouth as Bucky fucks into your pussy, and soon there is no rhythm left for you to keep, only the one they make between them.
You let them have you.
Steveโs hands settle on either side of your face, keeping you steady as his cock slips wetly over your tongue. Saliva gathers at the corners of your mouth and spills down your chin. Every thrust from behind rocks you farther onto Steve, leaving you whining and gagging softly around him while Buckyโs cock reaches so deep your legs threaten to give beneath you.
โLook at her, Buck,โ Steve rumbles, watching your lips stretch around him.ย โCanโt decide which cock she wants more, so sheโs takinโ both like the greedy little thing she is.โ
Bucky groans and drives in deeper, his hips pressing flush to your ass, causing your mouth to jolt forward around Steve.ย โShe loves it, Stevie. Can feel her squeezinโ me every time you push down her throat.โ
Your walls clench hard around Bucky at the filth in their words, milking his cock as another broken moan vibrates around Steveโs.ย
โThink she likes hearing us talk about her.โ
Steveโs gaze drops to you again, dark with affection and something far less gentle.
โCourse she does,โ he murmurs, thumb brushing through the spit shining on your chin. โOur filthy girl likes knowing sheโs got both her outlaws pleased.โ
Buckyโs thrusts begin to turn rougher behind you, each one driving you further onto Steveโs cock whilst Steve keeps one hand cradled against your jaw, thumb catching the drool that slips from the corner of your mouth.ย They feel your orgasm building, your pussy gripping Bucky and your moans breaking around Steve, and they chase it without mercy.
โThatโs it, sweetheart,โ Steve groans, eyes fixed on yours. โCome for us. Let Buck feel what that greedy pussy does when she gets everything she wants.โ
Buckyโs hand tightens in your hair as his hips snap into you again. โGo on, sugar. Come all over my cock while you choke on his. Show us how good we make you feel.โ
Itโs the words that push you over. Pleasure tears through you so hard your arms nearly buckle beneath it. You come with both of them filling you, Steve thick over your tongue and Bucky buried deep enough to empty every though from your head. Itโs both too much and exactly what you need - the two of them wrapped around you, with the truth of what they are to each other finally laid out between you.
Your walls clamp down around Bucky in frantic, pulsing waves.ย โThatโs it darlinโ,โ Bucky growls as your pussy milks him, hips stuttering against your ass. โKeep choking me like that and Iโm gonna paint this pretty back with my come.โ
He pulls out just in time. His fist closes around his cock, stroking fast as the first hot spill lands across your lower back, followed by another thick stripe over your ass. Bucky groans your name as he empties himself over you, watching his seed streak your skin while your body still trembles beneath him.
Steve stares at the mess his best friend has made of you, and his cock jerks at the sight of you marked by Buckyโs cum. Itโs enough to break him, spilling downย your throat with a broken groan, hand tightening against your jaw as pulse after pulse fills your mouth. You swallow greedily around him, taking every drop while Buckyโs palm smooths over your hip.
โSuch a sweet little thing,โ Bucky murmurs behind you, still breathless. โThink your girl likes being shared, Steve.โ
Steveโs thumb strokes tenderly over your cheek as you swallow the last of him, eyes glassy and looking up at him with such devoted affection it pulls his heart.
โOur girl.โ
The next morning, you stir to Steve trying to leave the bed without disturbing you.ย He almost manages it. But the mattress shifts beneath his weight, and the warmth pressed against your front begins to disappear before you make a soft, petulant sound and reach for him beneath the covers. Steve catches your searching hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before leaning down to brush another against your forehead.
โGo back to sleep, sweetheart.โ
You answer by tightening your fingers around his wrist, unwilling to surrender the place you have spent the night tucked between your two outlaws. Steveโs mouth softens, but Bucky solves the problem without properly waking. He makes a rough, sleepy noise behind you and pulls you firmly into his chest, one arm cinching around your waist until your back is fitted to him and there is no room left to complain about being abandoned.
โThere,โ Bucky mumbles into your hair. โQuit fussinโ.โ
You melt into him happily enough, eyes drifting shut again while Steve dresses nearby. Buckโs body is warm and heavy behind yours, his breath slow against your neck, and for a few precious moments the room feels safe enough to forget where you are.ย
But then Steveโs curse cuts through the quiet.
โBuck.โ
Bucky doesnโt move immediately. โMm?โ
โGet up.โ
The tension in Steveโs voice does what the words alone canโt. Buckyโs arm disappears from around your waist as he pushes upright, sleep falling away from him in an instant. You sit up with the blanket clutched to your chest and find Steve beside the window, peering through the narrow gap he has made in the curtain. His gun belt is already fastened. One revolver rests in his hand while he checks the chamber of the other.
โWhat is it?โ Bucky asks, reaching for his trousers.
Steve lets the curtain fall back into place. โWeโve got company.โ
Bucky crosses the room barefoot, keeping himself close to the wall as he looks out. His expression hardens. โHow many?โ
โToo many.โ
Your heart begins to pound. You drag the sheet around yourself and slip from the bed, though Steve catches sight of you moving and immediately shakes his head.
โStay back from the window.โ
โWhatโs happening?โ
Neither answers quickly enough.
You look from one man to the other, watching the quick efficiency with which they arm themselves. Bucky pulls on his shirt without bothering to button it before buckling his holster. Steve gathers the ammunition from the table and divides it between them, his movements calm in a way that frightens you more than panic would have.
โSteve,โ you push, and when Steve glances back at you, the desperation on your face is enough to make him stop pretending.
โStreetโs surrounded,โ he finally admits. โSheriffโs got men covering the front, both ends of the alley and the stable yard. More on the roofs across from us.โ
The words make you freeze. โHow did they find us?โ
Steve looks toward the door, jaw working once. โMaybe the clerk didnโt buy our performance after all.โ
Bucky looks through the curtain again, studying the street below. โBack window?โ
โTwo men in the alley, three more watching the yard. Weโd need to draw them round the front first.โ
They continue to move through possibilities quickly, cutting each one down almost as soon as itโs spoken. There are too many men. Thatโs the truth beneath every low exchange, though neither of them says it aloud. Bucky begins loading his rifle. Steve watches him for a moment, then glances toward you. The look passing between them is brief, but you understand it anyway.
โNo.โ
Steveโs face closes. โSweetheartโโ
โNo.โ
Bucky sets the rifle down. โSugar, listen.โ
โI know that look.โ Your voice shakes despite every effort to steady it. โYouโre working out how to get me clear.โ
Steve crosses to you, hands finding your cheeks and tilting your face to his. โBuck and I will draw them towards the front, and once theyโre focused on us, you slip through the yard and take the first horse you can reach.โ
Your eyes burn as you look between them. โAnd what chance does it give you?โ
Neither man answers.
Months ago, when they let you ride away with them, you told them there was only one part of their life you wouldnโt share. You would endure the cold, the hunger, the long days in the saddle and every bullet sent chasing after them, but you wouldnโt stand by and watch either man die. Now they mean to hold you to it.
Bucky comes to stand beside you, one hand settling at the back of your neck. His thumb moves once over your skin, the touch unbearably gentle from a man preparing to walk into gunfire.
โYou take the horse south,โ he says. โDonโt stop in the next town. Just keep goinโ โtill you canโt.โ
You search their faces for another answer and find none. Theyโre terrified - you know them well enough now to see it. But theyโre simply more frightened for you than they are for themselves. So you nod.ย
Steveโs hands linger against your cheeks for another second before he releases you, and Buckyโs thumb brushes the back of your neck once more before both men turn away, returning to plan as they let you dress.ย
Your fingers feel clumsy fastening your stays, though you force them through each familiar movement, pulling on yesterdayโs dress and tying your hair back with shaking hands.ย Bucky crouches beside the bed and spreads their remaining cartridges across the floorboards,ย counting beneath his breath until a thought makes him pause with one round still caught between his fingers.
โWait a minute - you didnโt see Rumlow out there, did you?โ
Steve glances over from the rifle. โRumlow? No. Why?โ
โThank God for that.โ Bucky exhales and drops the cartridge onto the pile. โFor a minute there, I thought we were in trouble.โ
Steveโs expression flattens while a startled laugh escapes you despite everything, and the crooked grin Bucky sends your way suggests that was precisely what heโd been aiming for.
Steve returns to checking the rifle with a quiet shake of his head. โIdiot.โ
Buckyโs smirk lingers only a moment before the boys begin getting ready in earnest.ย
Steve fastens the last of the ammunition at his belt and checks both revolvers one final time, while Bucky gathers the remaining cartridges into his pockets and slings the rifle over his shoulder. You stand beside the bed with your coat half-buttoned and look between them, both armed now, both trying to pretend as though this is merely another bad plan they will laugh about by nightfall.
Itโs Steve who comes to you first.ย He cups the back of your neck and kisses you hard, all the tenderness in him sharpened by the knowledge that he cannot afford to linger. You clutch at his shirt anyway, trying to hold him there, but he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours.
โPromise me youโll run,โ Steve begs against your lips.
Before you can respond, Bucky adds โAnd donโt look back.โ
You turn toward him, already crying despite the effort youโve made not to. Buckyโs expression softens. He reaches up and wipes beneath one of your eyes with his thumb before drawing you against him and kissing you with none of his usual teasing left in it.
โYou promise us, sugar,โ he murmurs against your mouth. โYou hear the gunfire, you run.โ
Your bottom lip trembles, tears spilling freely, but you manage to keep you voice steady enough to reply โI promise.โ
They lead you to the back window and ease it open just enough for you to slip through when the time comes, before heading back to the front door.
โSheriffโs moved two more men toward the front,โ he observes, peering through the narrow gap in the curtains. โLooks like theyโre expecting us to make a grand entrance.โ
Steve cocks his gun. โWell, Iโd hate to disappoint.โ
Bucky turns from the window with a faint smile, and just for a minute, the years between them seem to gather there in the quiet.ย They stand beside the door with their weapons ready, drawing one steadying breath before looking at each other.
โTill the end of the line,โ Steve says.
Buckyโs answer comes without hesitation.ย โAlways.โ
Then they burst through the front door.
Gunfire erupts immediately, deafening in the close quarters, answered by the heavy crack of Steveโs revolver and the sharper report of Buckyโs rifle as they force the fight toward the front of the hotel. Every instinct in you screams to turn, to look, to run after them instead of away, but you cling to the promise you made and climb through the rear window once the coast is clear.
Then you run. Across the yard, past the stable wall and toward the first horse you can reach, every step carrying you farther from the two men you love. The law may have their names and faced printed on posters, may call them thieves and bad men, but you know better now.
Wanted men they may be, but theyโre the best men you have ever known.
more mads: sooooo, i am so so sorry for how late i am for posting this. half of this was written in a sleep deprived, frantic haze so apologies if any of it gets confusing at any point, especially the ending. i had a different plan for it at first, but then i want to stay more loyal to the film, and i also needed to just get this fic done considering how late i already was to posting it. so this is what i landed on and i'm worried it hasn't quite worked :/ idk, this could be the sleep deprivation talking but i just started to hate this fic as i got closer to the end. hopefully you guys still enjoyed - if you did, please hit like or, even better, please consider leaving a comment/reblog bc it would genuinely make my whole day. my leo moon means i will literally perish without external validation. iโm tinkerbell coded. love u <33
western??? STUCKY??? holy fuck this looks so incredibly sexy. just reading the first part of it made me clench, so i can't wait to read the rest of it!!!!
โธโธ SUMMARY โ โ as an outlaw, steve rogers has two rules: keep moving, and don't go back. but for you he's broken the second one more times than he can count. he comes when he can, leaves before dawn, and you don't ask what he gets up to in between. until one night it's not just steve at your door, but his partner, bucky barnes, with your outlaw bleeding through his shirt and bounty hunters four days behind them. โ โงฝ 23k
๏ผSMUT, like seriously there is so much smut in this (3 separate scenes lol), dry humping, cock grinding, p in v, fingering, handjob, voyeurism/exhibitionism, masturbation (m), slight pervy!bucky?, oral (m & f receiving), threesome (reader goes to paris!), m/m content, praise kink, hair pulling, soft doms!stucky but lowkey switch!steve!, heavy yearning, three idiots in love, kinda one bed trope?, slow burn, shameless flirt bucky, bisexual awakening!stucky, angst, probably very medically inaccurate wound treatment, probably also historical inaccuracies, frontier/wild west AU, 18+ MDNI
โคท from mads: this is my contribution to the Captain Americana film festival collab for steve's birthday (happy belated birthday stevie!!). i decided to base my fic off the film "butch cassidy and the sundance kid", because the first time i watched this i was just like... oh this is my stucky cowboy AU fr. plus, i thought steve deserved both you and bucky as his birthday present. half of this was written sleep deprived so sorry for any errors ยป cowboy edits of steve and bucky made by me with canva, pinterest and a dream please be kind and don't look too closely xx ยป MASTERLIST
Frontier towns always think they can tell a good man from a bad one.
A good man does honest work with honest hands. A good man comes to church on Sundays. Most importantly, a good man is known - by his name, his family, and his business. In a town like this, familiarity passes easily for virtue. A bad man, then, is the one nobody can place. And the town, never fond of a question, fills it with the worst thing it can imagine.
The law has a simpler system still.ย
One that decrees who is a man and who is aย wanted man.ย It prints the latter on paper and nails it somewhere decent folk can see.ย Ink drawings of men with shadowed eyes and a jaw made harsher by the hand that drew it. Beneath that is the list of wrongs they have done, and a number in dollars that someoneย is willing to pay to see him answer for them.
Fifty dollars for a fool. Five hundred for a danger. Five thousand for a dead man walking.
Women, of course, have their own sorting. Just like bad men, women have a value.ย Only women are rarely granted the dignity of being weighed by their ownย choices. Instead, they too are valued by a bad manโs wrongdoings.ย
What he has done to her. Or what he is rumoured to have done with her. Or what he wanted badly enough to lie about. That is how a town makes its ladies. That is how it makes its whores, too.
There are no other kinds of women.ย Not in this town, or anywhere else for that matter. A third kind would require people to admit women have lives beyond the reach of menโs hands, and no one is in any hurry to go inviting that sort of trouble.
By all accounts, the town had decided kindly on you.ย A credit to the schoolhouse and a blessing to the children you teach. They would say that you are a fine young lady, and that any good man would be lucky to have you.
No good man, so far, has come and asked. Perhaps that should worry you more than it did. After all, a woman could only remain a fine young lady for so long before the title began to sour on her. A woman in your position was expected to want a steady hand, a clean name,and a ring bought with honest wages. A good man, by the townโs binary judgement.
Your heart, unfortunately, had never shown much interest in good men.
So thatโs why tonight, like every other night, your walk home is made alone. Save for the company of crickets keeping up their endless racket, and the watchful hum of a town that likes to sleep with one eye open.
Your skirts hush against the dry grass as you walk further beyond the last few houses, where the town thins to prairie. There waits your little house at the edge of it all, porch sunk crooked in the middle and windows dark as shut eyes. Except the window over the washstand thatโs still open; it never sits quite right in its frame. It swells in the summer heat, shrinks in the winter cold, and no matter the season, refuses to latch unless you lean your weight against it.ย
Youโve been putting off fixing it for months. A respectable man might have fixed it for you by now, had one ever made himself useful.
By the time you step through your front door, the night hasย drawn close around the house.ย Moonlight slips through the narrow gap in the curtains, laying a soft glow across the floorboards. Enough to not bother with a lamp.
The schoolbooks go on the table. You set your hat beside them. Your boots are worked off by the bed, left where they fall. Then your fingers find the buttons of your dress.
The first slips free at your throat, then the second follows. The dress loosens by degrees, surrendering the shape of the schoolteacher the town knows so well, until all that remains is the woman beneath it. You drag in a deeper breath, eyes falling shut for a moment as the pressure eases. There is no sweeter mercy than taking off the day. No greater pleasure than unlacing yourself from what the world expected you to be.
With one hand still at your bodice, you turn towards the washstand.ย
Your eyes catch on a shadow in the chair by your bed. A shocked gasp leaves your lips before you can stop it, sharp and uselessly small in the dark of your room.ย
At first, he is only a shape amongst shapes.ย
But the shadow is too still for a drunk, too quiet for a fool, and too comfortable for any man with honest business in a womanโs bedroom after dark. The chair complains beneath the size of him. One boot is planted flat against the floorboards, the other stretches lazily before him. A hand rests on his thigh, and somethingย metallic in it glints in the moonlight.
It points straight at you.
Your breath stalls somewhere high in your chest, trapped behind the open buttons at your throat as your vision adjusts slowly to the dim light. His coat hangs open over a shirt that used to be white, now marked with trail dust and the stain of something you hope is mud.
The gunman tilts his head, and only then does the dark give up the glinting blue of his eyes - fixed on you with the possessive satisfaction of a man finding what he came for. They drop slowlyย to where your dress has come loose at your throat,ย exposing the delicate slope beneath your collarbone, and the first soft swell of your chest. Enough skin to make a decent man look away and a worse one very glad he didnโt.
An appreciative rumble hums low from his lips, before his thumb draws back the hammer of his gun with a pointedย click.
โDonโt stop on my account, sweetheart.โ
For a moment, youโre frozen. Just standing there with your fingers still curled in the loosened front of your dress, breath held tight beneath your ribs. The room narrows to the man in your chair and the gun pointed steady in his hand. He watches you without speaking, patient as a hunter, until he gives an expectant nod of the head.
Slowly, your fingers move again, buttons slipping free beneath your touch. His eyes fixate on the reveal, tongue dipping out the wet his bottom lip in anticipation.
By any measure the town would use, he is a bad man. By the sheriffโs ledger, or by the schoolmasterโs careful catechism about the sorts of men a young lady ought to avoid, the man in your chair is exactly the kind of ruin women are warned against.
You have never much cared for the schoolmasterโs catechism.
Instead your gaze drags over him in return, less innocent than the gasp you might have given. Over the breadth of his shoulders where his shirt pulls tight beneath his open coat. Over the narrowness of his waist and the careless sprawl of his body in your chair, as though he belongs there. Over theย powerful thighs spread wide as he sat, revealing theย hard, unmistakable bulge pressing against the front of his trousers. Indecent in its honesty and all the more shameless for the way he makes no attempt to hide it.
He watches you notice it, too. Watches your eyes catch and linger, watches your throat work around the breath you have not quite managed to take.
The last button slips free.
Your dress gives way, sliding from your shoulders and falling in a soft heap around your feet. It leaves you in your chemise,ย though the thin cotton does such a poor job of covering you that the word feels generous. Moonlight passes through it almost cleanly, turning the fabric pale and sheer over the shape of your body: the curve of your waist, the shadow between your thighs, the soft weight of your breasts barely hidden beneath it.ย
Your nipples tighten into hard little points against the cloth, visible enough that you know he must see them. The knowledge makes your skin burn hotter than any shame ought to allow.
A deep, pleased groan escapes his chest.
The gun stays steady in his hand, but the other shifts against his thigh, fingers flexing into the worn fabric before his palm slides higher. He presses over himself through his trousers, just enough to ease some of the ache there. Just enough to make no secret of what the sight of you has done to him.
โGood girl,โ he drawls, โprettiest damn thing Iโve seen in weeks.โ
Your stomach pulls tight at the praise, and your thighs press together beneath the thin fall of your chemise before you can think better of giving him any satisfaction.
But the satisfaction arrives in the slight curve of his mouth before he rises from the chair.ย God, heโs tall, taller than he looks sitting down. And broader too.
If the dark had made a threat of him, the moonlight makes something worse. It loves him. Thereโs no other word for the way it lingers on him as he steps closer.ย
It slips first over the dirty blond hair that has fallen loose beneath the brim of his hat.ย Then it catches on his face, and thereโs no mercy for you in how gently it treats him. Long lashes cast low shadows under his eyes, and whatever blue hasnโt been swallowed by desire or the dark gleams too bright. His mouth is plusher than it ought to be on a man with a gun in his hand. Soft in a way the beard canโt rough out, though it tries.
It decorates his jaw, dragging a little danger back over a face that might have been too pretty without it.
The kind of face you know.
Itโs nailed up outside the mercantile for decent folk to study and condemn. Some sheriffโs artist had done his best to make a villain of him in ink, darkening the eyes, sharpening the jaw, flattening the mouth into something easier to fear. Anything, perhaps, to keep a lady from looking too long and noticing what the moonlight gives away in your bedroom.ย
Better, then, to look beneath his name at the hefty four figure sum printed there. And remember what kind of man earns a price like that.
A careful one, you would think.
A man worth that much should know better than to stand so close. And he should definitely know better than to let his defences drop. Most of all, he should know better than to let desire soften the hand with the gun in it.ย
You move quickly. A sharp twist, a shift of your weight, and the revolver is in your hand instead of his. Then your palm hits the centre of his chest and you shoveย your weight against his chest.
He falls a little too easily back onto the bed with a rough laugh, his hat knocked loose and tumbling somewhere behind him.ย You follow before he can sit up, climbing over him with one knee pressed into the mattress on either side of his hips. The chemise rides high on your thighs as you settle your weight over him, and his hands instantly find a home there.ย
You theย pressย barrel up under his jaw with enough pressure to make him tilt his head back against the quilt,ย exposing the long line of his throat. All that arrogant ease goes still beneath you. Then his Adam's apple bobs beneath the rough gold of his beard, and the ridiculous blue of his eyes go wide.
He looks stunned. Worse, even,ย he looks delighted, as though some wicked part of him had been hoping all along that you would do exactly this.
You lean down until only inches remain between you,ย close enough to see the way his pupils dilate further, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath.
โYouโre late, Rogers.โ
He doesnโt reply straightaway. Instead, hisย eyes move over your face as though the rest of the room has fallen away, as though the weeks and the miles have all narrowed done to this -ย to you. Sat above him in the moonlight, furious and half-naked and close enough to touch. Thereโs something in his expression far too soft for the size of him, too tender for the outlaw laid out beneath you with a revolver pressed to his throat.
Something that looks almost like disbelief, as if he had spent the whole ride dreaming of you and even still, you looked sweeter than his dreams. Like he canโt quite believe the world has been kind enough to put you in front of him again, and now that heโs here, he means to drink down every inch of you before it can change its mind.
Then the tension eases out of him all at once.
His body goes loose beneath yours, the last of the game slipping from his shoulders as his hands slide higher up your thighs. They wrap around your ass, warm and possessive.ย The corner of his mouth curves, slow and devastatingly boyish beneath the ruggedness of his beard. Entirely too pleased for a man currently pinned beneath his own gun.
โMissed me?โ he drawls, already sure of the answer
You press the gun harder into the soft skin beneath his jaw in answer. His fingers tighten on your thighs,ย as his hips shift beneath yours. Itโs only a small, helpless grind, but itโs enough for you to feel the hard line of his cock twitch against the heat between your legs. The satisfaction of feeling his need for you is almost enough to make you forget youโre angry.ย
Almost.
โYou were supposed to be here three days ago,โย you remind him, intending to be stern, but not convinced you achieved it.
โTrain was delayed,โ Steve replies,ย his blue eyes bright with the kind of trouble men get hanged for.
Your eyes narrow. He has the decency to look a little sheepish.
โFine,โ he concedes. โTrain was delayed โcause I robbed it.โ
His thumbs trace slow circles over your hipbones, familiar and possessive, like he has any right to soothe you after being the source of your concern. โYou worried about me, sweetheart?โ
You scoff, โI was debating whether, if the bounty hunters didnโt put a bullet in you, I ought to do it myself.โ
It wouldโve sounded better if your voice hadnโt come out breathier than you intended. If his body were not so solid and warm beneath you, his thighs hard muscle under your spread legs, his hands moving against your skin as though he had been starving for the feel of it.
โGunโs not loaded,โ His voice goes quieter there, the teasing easing at the edges. โNever is. You think Iโd point a loaded gun at you?โ
You hate him a little for that. For the empty gun. For the fact that some stubborn, tender part of him had crossed God knows how many miles with a bounty on his head and still remembered to make his filthy little performance safe.ย
You hate him more for making you care enough to count the days. For making the nights stretch mean when he doesnโt come when heโs meant to. For making you understand, with an anger that burns too hot to be good, what sort of woman waits on a bad man.
โDonโt mean Iโm not angry with you,โ you whisper, though thereโs no bite in your voice.
His gaze drops to your mouth.
โYeah?โ His hands slide back along your thighs, slow enough to make your stomach tighten, high enough to make the thin cotton of your chemise feel like no barrier at all. โWant to show me how angry?โ
Your throat tightens.ย The revolver drops from your hand onto the quilt beside his head.ย Steveโs eyes lift to yours, and there he is beneath the outlaw. Tired, alive, and yours for the few hours he has no right to give you.
You kiss him hard, pouring all that fear and anger and need into his mouth.
Steve takes it with a groan, his head dropping back against the quilt again. One hand leaves your thigh to catch the back of your neck and drag you closer. This isn't a careful reunion. He bites your lip and the sound you make against his mouth ruins whatever patience he had left.
His tongue pushes possessively into your mouth, licking into you until your fingers twist in the front of his shirt just to have something to hold. When you rock down against him, grinding the damp heat of your pussy over the hard line of his cock through too much fabric, his answering sound catches high and helpless in his throat.
โI ought to punish you for makinโ me wait,โ you breathe against his mouth, though the threat loses some of its dignity when your hips roll down again and your own breath breaks at the friction.
Steveโs hand tightens on your neck, keeping you close enough that his lips brush yours when he answers. โYou ought to.โ
Your hands shove at his coat, dragging it off his shoulders with more force than grace. Steveย only helps enough to get free, tooย busy chasing your mouth again, greedy and open, his tongue sweeping against yours like heโs trying to taste every desperate sound heโs pulled from you. You tug at the buttons of his shirt next,ย fingers clumsy on the open collar before patience fails you entirely and you pull hard enough to strain the buttons.
You need skin. Need the warmth of him under your palms and the pulse of him beneath your mouth.
โI ought to send you back out the window you came in.โ
His grin returns at that, mischief bright in his eyes despite the way his cock twitches under you. โYouย ought to get that fixed,โ he rumbles, one hand sliding possessive over your waist. โWho knows what kind of bad men could get in?โ
You punish him for the clever little comment with another roll of your hips.ย Steveโs fingers clamp around your waist and the sound he makes is almost a whine, mouth falling open against yours.
His chest rises hard beneath your hands, broad and golden in the moonlight, warm muscle shifting under your palms with every rough breath he takes. Scars litter his skin - some you know the stories of and some he has never given you. You touch them anyway, touch him anyway, needing the proof of him beneath your palms. Then your hips grind down again, and his stomach flexes, abs pulling tight as he lets out a rough groan.
โI ought to make you beg,โ you whisper, mouth dragging down over his jaw, his beard rough against your lipsย as you kiss the place where his heartbeat pounds beneath his skin.
โYes, maโam,โ Steve breathes, hands holdingย you tight over the thick, straining shape of him. โYou ought to.โ
Your chemise has ridden high over your thighs, and every drag of your body over his makes the ache in you sharper.
โStart with sorry,โ you instruct.
Steveโs breath catches when you slow the roll of your hips, turning the grind into something almost cruel. His hands flex at your waist, big enough to move you if he wanted, strong enough that he could flip you easily. But instead he lies there beneath you, shirt open and cock hard under your weight, letting you make him wait. Letting you have this dizzying power over him and looking up at you like he would let you ruin him if you asked sweetly enough.
His throat works beneath your mouth.
โIโm sorry Iโm late,โ he murmurs.
You lift your head just enough to look at him, raising an expectant brow. His thumbs stroke once over your hips, softernow.
Steveโs eyes flick over your face, softening at whatever he finds there. โIโm sorry I worried you.โ
Satisfied with his obedience, you lean down to kiss him again in reward. But Steve catches the breath between your mouths, his lips brushing yours when he adds, quieter,ย โIโm sorry I have to leave again at dawn.โ
You still completely. Steveโs eyes find yours beneath his mussed hair, and there is and ache thereย so open it makes your chest hurt. Too honest for a man whoโs worth more dead than most men will ever be alive. You canโt bare it for long.ย Your mouth finds his again, harder this time, before the feeling can name itself. That foolish hope of keeping a man who only ever comes to you with one foot already out the door.
โThen donโt waste my night, cowboy,โ you breathe against his lips, rolling your hips down until his cock jerks beneath you. โYouโve got a lot to make up for.โ
Steve answers with his hands. A sudden greed of them at your waist, then sliding further up beneath your chemise. His thumbs brushย the underside of your breasts with just enough pressure to make you gasp into his mouth. Then heโs tugging the fabric higher, impatient now, and you lift your arms before he has to ask.ย
He drags the cotton over your head, tossing it aside with the rest of your clothes until the night air has you bare above him.
His gaze rakes over you with such naked want that your stomach clenches. Overย the tight peaks of your nipples, and lower still till to where you are spread over him in nothing but your drawers and stockings, already damp enough that the fabric clings between your thighs.
Steveโs hands tighten at your hips, his thumbs dragging once over the bare skin above your drawers.ย
โYou missed me somethinโ awful, didnโt you?โ he teases, the corner of his mouth twitching, though his voice comes out rougher than the smile deserves.
You should scold him for that. You mean to, truly. But then his mouth closes over your breast, and the words break apart in your throat.
His beard scrapes over your skin as he sucks your nipple between his lips, tongue dragging over the tight peak before his teeth catch, sharp enough to make you dry out. Your hands fly to his hair, and you tug - meaner than you intend - but Steve groans against your tit, delighted.
โLove it when youโre mean,โ he pants against your skin, mouth moving to the other breast, leaving the first wet with his spit in the moonlight.
His head tips beneath your grip, golden hair sliding through your fingers. He lets you guide him, all that size and strength beautiful under your hands. Because for all his sins, Steve is clever enough to know thereโs power in obedience when it comes to the right woman.
His hands shove your drawers down over your hips, hurried and clumsy for the first time all night. They catch at your knees before you kick them away, leaving you naked above him, trembling with the kind of want no decent woman was ever supposed to admit by name.
Your fingers go to his trousers, but the buttons take too long. You curse them for it, and Steve gives a breathless little laugh that dies the second your hand slips inside and wraps around him. His cock springs free, slapping heavy against your thigh, already leaking at the tip.ย Precum smears against your skin as he twitches there, hard enough to make your mouth go dry.
Itโs like you forget just how big he is until heโs in your hand again, fat and veined and heavy enough to make you wonder if heโll still fit. But your cunt clenches desperately around nothing like it already knows the answer.
You sink your teeth into your lower lip and drag yourself over him, sliding the wet heat of your pussy along the length of his cock.ย He groans at the first slick pass, at the way your folds part around him, coating him in creamy white wetness until every rock of your hips makes an obscene, sticky sound between you.
The fat head catches against your clit with each pass, enough to make your hips stutter and your head tip back with a needy little whine. But Steveโs arms clamp over your hips, muscles flexing as he keeps you humping his cock. His precum mixes with the mess dripping from your needy hole, smearing over his shaft and down onto the golden muscle of his stomach under you.
โFuck, โatta girl,โ he rasps, head falling back against the quilt. โGet my cock nice and wet. Make yourself feel good, use me.โ
So you grind down harder, slicking his cock with the mess heโs made of you, feeling his abs flex beneath your hands every time his tip nudges your tight entrance.
โSteve,โ you whine, nails digging into this skin hard enough to leave marks. โI want it. I want your cock in me.โ
โYeah?โ he breathes, and the little edge of a grin he tries for doesnโt last. Not when you reach between you, wrap your hand around the thick, wet length of him. โThen take it, maโam. Itโs yours.โ
You push up on your knees, thighs trembling on either side of him, the thick muscle of Steveโs biceps bunching as he holds you steady.ย His cock pulses with anticipation in your grip, veins standing out beneath your palm as you line him up with your entrance.ย
Youโre both wet enough that it should be easy, your cream smeared down his shaft, his precum sticky on your fingers. But the first push of the mushroom tip stretchesย you open with a burn so sweet and full it feels like being split in half. Your mouth falls open the same moment his does, both of you moaning at the sensation after weeks without each other.ย
Your pussy flutters around him, tight and greedy, sucking him in with little needy clenches that make his hands dig harder into your hips.ย
โMissed this,โ he groans, every muscle in him straining with the effort not to thrust up and take more than you give. โMissed your tight cunt so bad I damn near wore out my own fist thinkinโ about it.โ
The filthy praise goes straight to your cunt, sending a fresh wave of arousal dripping around him as you sink lower.ย Your head tips back, his name spilling from your lips in broken little sounds as you take him inch by inch.
Steveโs eyes fix on where youโre joined, watching the slow, wet slide of himself disappearing inside you. His jaw clenches beneath his beard, every muscle in him pulled taut like the sight of your tight pussy struggling around him might make him spill inside you before youโve even taken all of him.ย
When your hips finally meet his, the fat tip of his cock kisses your cervix and it empties your head clean of any coherent though. You feel him twitch inside you as your walls give a wet squeeze around him, your cunt clinging tight like it needs a second to believe itโs taken all of him.ย
โFuck, Steve,โ you whine, nails dragging over his chest. โYouโre so big.โ
You slowly try and find a rhythm, rolling your hips down until the tip of his cock hits deep enough to make your whole body jolt.ย The first few strokes are messy, your thighs trembling as you lift and sink. But Steveโs palms stay firm at your hips, helping you find the rhythm, holding you steady while you fuck yourself down onto him.
โBut youโre takinโ it, sweet girl,โ he groans, helping you down harder,ย pulling you into each stroke until your tits bounce and the room fills with the slick slap of your body meeting his.ย โTakinโ my cock so pretty. Always do.โ
The bed complains beneath you, wood knocking softly against the wall, but itโs nothing compared to the wet, shameless sound of your pussy taking him over and over.ย
โSteveโโย Your voice breaks into a cry when he hits that deep spot again, โNeedโfuckโโ
Your pace turns desperate, hips rolling and lifting, chasing the thick slide of him inside you. Every time you sink down, your cunt grips him tighter, cream slicking the base of his cock in a white ring that smears against his skin and drips lower, making a filthy mess of his heavy balls.
Steveโs eyeโs darken at the sight. โPretty cuntโs makinโ such a mess on my cock, can feel her squeezinโ me. Feel you gettinโ close.โ
You nod, pathetic and needy. โI need you,โ you gasp, โSteve,ย please, Iโmโโ
His hand leaves your hip and slips between you, thumb finding your swollen clit. Your rhythm breaks, hips jerking as a needy moan catches in your throat. You try to keep riding him, but it turns sloppy fast, more grinding than bouncing now, your body chasing his hand while his cock stays buried deep inside you.
โThatโs what you needed, sweetheart?โ Steve rasps, watching you fall apart above him. โThen let me feel that tight pussy come on my cock.โ
The pressure snaps tight in your belly, sharp enough to steal the air from you. One more stroke of his thumb, one more dirty grind down on his cock, and your orgasm crashes through you.
Your cunt strangles his cock, pulsing around him in tight, wet flutters. โFuck,โ he grunts out, hands grabbing for hips as his restraint finally snaps. โFuck, maโam,ย canโtโโ
One second youโre on top of him, shaking through it, and the next his strength is under you and around you, flipping you onto your back like you weigh nothing at all. Steve settles between your thighs with a groan as he drives back into your soaked cunt in one deep thrust that punches the breath from your lungs.
โSteve!โย You sob his name, oversensitive and helpless under him, but your legs hook around his waist anyway. Steve fucks into you harder, deeper, mouth catching yours in a messy kiss.
โThere you go,โ he grits out, one hand braced beside your head, the other gripping your thigh high against his hip. โโAtta girl. Fuck, you feel too good, this cuntโs tryinโ to keep me.โ
You canโt answer, not properly. Not with him pounding into you like this, all that leashed strength finally let loose, his cock dragging over your oversensitive walls while your legs shake around him. All you can do is cling to him and babble his name, too ruined to do anything but take it.
His thrusts turn rougher as his cock throbs inside you. At the last second, Steve pulls out with a broken groan, his hand wrapping around his slick cock as he spills hot over your stomach. Hot white ropes spill across your skin while his hips jerk into his fist, eyes fixed on the mess heโs making of you like itโs the prettiest thing heโs seen in weeks.
Steveโs strokes slow, his fist still wrapped around himself as the last of his release spills over your belly. His eyes drag from the mess on your skin to your face, and his expression softens instantly.ย
โGood girl,โ he rumbles,ย thumb smearing through the mess heโs made before he seems to remember himself. His mouth finds yoursย once, beards scratching softly over your skin as you make a tired little sound against his mouth. โTook me so good, sweets. So fuckinโ good for me.โ
His lips move over your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth,ย murmuring praise between each kiss, until the words sink under your skin. Then he forces himself away with a rough breath, tugging his shirt the rest of the way off before shoving his trousers down his hips. His boots hit the floor with a dull thud, followed by the rest of his clothes.
Naked, he crosses to the washstand with all that golden muscle and road-worn swagger, shoulders broad in the moonlight, hair mussed from your hands. He comes back with a damp cloth and cleans you himself.ย
One big hand rests tenderly at your hip while the other wipes his come from your stomach. His gaze flicks up to yours once when you shiver, mouth curving beneath his beard, but he doesnโt tease. He only drags the cloth lower, gentle between your thighs, cleaning the sticky mess from your skin.
โSo perfect,โ he whispers, pressing a kiss just beneath your ribs when heโs done. โMy best girl.โ
Tossing the cloth aside, he climbs into bed beside you, greedy for your warmth. His arm hooks around you waist instantly,ย dragging you back against him like even the few inches between your bodies are more than he can spare. His chest presses warm against your back, his thigh slides between yours, and his mouth finds your shoulder before youโve even settled.
For a while, neither of you says anything.
Steve keeps kissing you anyway, and his hand rests heavy over your stomach, fingers spread wide like he means to keep you against him forever. But his thumb moves gently. Back and forth. Back and forth. A quiet apology against your skin. Youโre half asleep by the time your voice finds him again.
โMissed you Stevie,โ you mumble, so low he might have missed it if he hadnโt been listening for every breath. โWas worried.โ
Steve goes still behind you for a moment, then his thumb starts moving again, slow over the bare skin of your stomach like he can soothe the ache he put there. โI know,โ he murmurs into your hair. โIโm sorry, sweetheart.ย Didnโt mean to leave you countinโ days.โ
โWhat really happened?โ
Steve exhales slowly behind you,ย mouth pressing to your shoulder before he answers, like he can feel the tightness gathering there already. โTrain job got messy. Payroll car was heavier than we heard, and the guard had more friends than sense. Had to ride south after, lose a posse near the creekbed.โ His hand tightens when your brow pinches in worry, though your eyes stay closed. โNo, honey. Not like that. They got a shot off, but it only grazed me.โ
Your eyes crack open. โOnly?โ
โIโm here, ainโt I?โ he breathes, trying for that crooked little arrogance and not quite managing it. โTakes more than that to put me down.โ
You make a sleepy, displeased sound and press back harder into him, grumbling something unkind into the pillow
Steve huffs a quiet laugh and presses his smile to your shoulder. โMean little thing,โ he whispers, but his arm tightens around you, and his lips linger. โIโm alright. Truly. Just took longer than I wanted.โ
After that, the room settles around you. His hand stays where it is, warm and broad over your middle, and his breathing slows behind you.Youโre almost asleep when the thought slips out of you, small and wounded.
โDonโt wake me when you leave.โ
His chest stops moving against your back.
โI mean it,โ you add,ย fingers finding his where they rest over your stomach. โI canโt watch you choose the door.โ
That one hurts him. You feel his arm curl tighter around your waist like some selfish part of him wants to promise he wonโt go at all. For a second, you think he might argue. But Steve Rogers has never been cruel enough to promise something so foolish.
โAlright,โ he whispers, voice rough. โIโll leave quiet.โ
You nod once, already drifting, but your fingers tighten around his. Steve turns his hand beneath yours and holds on. โBut Iโm here now,โ he murmurs, mouth brushing your skin. โSleep, honey. Iโve got you.โ
Morning doesnโt wake you kindly.
One moment youโre warm enough to feel the man behind you, and the next your hand is sliding across the mattress, reaching for a body that is no longer there. Still, you lie with your hand pressed to the place where Steve had been, as if there might still be enough of him left in the sheets to count for something.
The scrape of his beard still burns faintly along your shoulder. Your thighs ache when you shift. Proof everywhere, and still no man beside you.
The day doesnโt care.ย It waits for no woman, least of all one foolish enough to miss a man with four figures under his name. So you get up.There is no use in grieving a man who is not dead, and no sense in missing a man who warned you he would go.
You go about your morning routine and pull on your dress, fastening every button back into place until the schoolteacher returns piece by piece. Nothing to suggest what an outlaw had done to her in the dark. By the time your books are gathered, your hands have almost stopped shaking.
You check the stove before you leave. The door latch. The chair by the bed, sitting innocent in the morning light, as if it hadnโt held an outlaw the night before. Last, out of habit more than thought, you cross to the window over the washstand.
Your hand is already braced to force it closed when you freeze.ย The window is shut.
Not forced down, not wedged in crooked, not sitting stubborn in its swollen frame. Shut.ย Properly shut.ย The latch sits clean in its catch,ย holding firm beneath the careful press of your fingers.
Itโs silly, really, to stand there with your throat gone tight over a fixed window. But itโs what almost does you in. Your bad man, making sure no worse men can get in.
Weeks pass with no word from your outlaw.
You tell yourself thatโs likely for the best.ย Good news rarely travels fast where men like Steve Rogers are concerned; bad news, however, travels like wildfire.ย Still, each morning you find yourself scanning the newspaper columns with a sour twist in your stomach, looking for his name with morbid compulsion and praying not to find it.ย Itโs the same grim, self-torturous routine every day, waiting for the one where some column out west reports Steve Rogers and the Winter Kid dead, captured, or hanged.
By night, the worry is worse. It follows you into bed and slips into your dreams, filling up the space Steve left empty. You sleep poorly when sleep comes at all, one ear tuned toward the road like a fool, listening for hoofbeats youโve no good reason to expect, yet hope for all the same.
But it isnโt hoofbeats that pull you from slumber tonight.
Itโs the violentย thudย of a fist hammering on your front door, hard enough to shake the frame and send you bolting upright with your heat already halfway up your throat.
โHello?!โย a man shouts through the door, breathless and frantic.ย โMiss! For Godโs sake, tell me youโre in there!โ
He swears under his breath, his voice comes again, but lower this time. โGoddammit, Rogers, if you gave me the wrong damn houseโโ
His fist hits the door again, harder now, rattling the latch in its frame.
โOpen up!ย Please, open the door!โ he yells. โNameโs BarnesโBucky BarnesโIโve got Rogers with me, and heโs shot real bad!โ
Steve.ย Shot badly.
The words make your blood run cold, but fear is not enough to make you foolish. Graveyards are full of women who opened up because they believed bad men with good stories.
โMiss!โ Barnes shouts, followed by a strained grunt and the scrape of boots dragging over your porch boards. โPlease! I ainโt got time to stand here proper, heโs slippinโ!โ
Steveย hadย spoken of a Bucky Barnes before, of course he had - Buck, usually, said with the kind of rough fondness he tried to hide and never quite managed - but knowing a name isnโt the same as knowing a voice through the door in the middle of the night.
You move for the shotgun. A lady might have felt shame keeping such a thing so close to her bed. A woman who lives alone knows better.
You cock it loud enough for the sound to carry through the door.
The knocking stops.ย When you speak, your voice is steadier than the rest of you feels. โIf youโre lyinโ, Mr. Barnes, you ought to know Iโve got a shotgun pointed at this door.โ
โLady, you can shoot me after if youโre still of a mind to,โ he shouts back. โRight now I need you to open the damn door before Rogers bleeds out on your porch!โ
Before you can answer, a low groan drags from the other side of the door, followed by Bucky swearing under his breath. Then you recognise Steveโs voice, frailer than youโve ever heard it,ย trying to make your name out of what little strength he has left.ย It makes the shotgun feel useless in your hands.
You flip the latch up before you can think better of it, though you keep one hand on the shotgun as you pull the door open - barrel tipped down but ready.ย
Bucky Barnes is braced on your porch, with Steve Rogers sagging against him.
His jaw is clenched from the strain of the weight, one shoulder shoved beneath Steveโs arm, with his own locked tight around Steveโs waist. Steveโs boots scrape uselessly over the boards when Bucky shifts him higher. It is clear,ย terribly clear, that Steve is only standing because Bucky has decided he will.
Heโs bent nearly double, folded into the wound, hanging off Bucky with no strength of his own. His head dips heavy towards his chest, and he might almost look drunk if his skin were not so pale beneath the dirt, or if every breath didnโt seem to pull through him with effort.ย
One hand rests low on his abdomen, fingers spread over a blooming red patch that has soaked through his shirt and keeps smearing beneath his palm. But the hand is slack. His arm trembles with the effort of keeping it over the wound, slipping through the blood rather than stopping it. Every breath drags through him shallow and uneven as though his body has begun bargaining over what it can afford.
โSteve!โ
The shotgun clatters to the floor in an instant, forgotten in your panic. You reach for him instantly, palms cupping his face because you need to see his eyes. Need some proof behind the boneless sag of him.ย His skin is damp beneath your hands and itโs too cold for a man sweating so badly. When you lift his head, it comes slowly, with too much weight in it, his neck offering almost no help at all.
He looks worse than any newspaper ever managed to make him.
His mouth hangs open around each thin pull of breath, lips dry and parted beneath the rough gold of his beard. Dirt clings to the sweat along his hairline. There is a smear of blood near his lip, and his jaw has gone loose under your hands, all that stubborn Rogers grit worn down to something frighteningly human.
His eyes slide over you without settling, and that scares you more than the blood.
โSteve,โ you repeat, thumb brushing his cheek. โLook at me.ย Please, look at me.โ
Recognition gathers slowly, blue eyes dragging themselves back from somewhere far away. Then the worry comes with it, because even like this, Steve Rogers is sorry. His brows draw together as if he has been carrying one thought all the way to your porch and means to set it down before his body gives out beneath him.
โTold Buck not to wake you,โ he slurs, stopping after it to drag in another shallow breath. โTold him you needed sleep.โ
Bucky grunts a disbelieving laugh next to you.ย
โAlright, Romeo, thatโs real touching,โ he snaps, shifting Steveโs weight higher with a grunt, โbut youโre bleeding on the ladyโs porch. Miss, I need him flat, I need light, and I need clean cloths.ย Now.โ
The kitchen table is where Bucky wants him. Thereโs no time to argue about the indecency of it, or the blood, or how Buckyโs supposed to get him up there without injuring Steve further.ย
Bucky pulls Steve through the door with one brutal shift of his weight, dragging him over the threshold whilst Steveโs boots scrape and stumble over your floor. The wound pulls with the movement, wrenching a raw, bitten-off sound deep from his chest.
โClear it,โ Bucky orders, jerking his chin toward the oak table.ย
And you move only because your body takes over. A book hits the floor. Then the bowl you left out after supper, shattering somewhere near your feet. You donโt hear it over the rush of blood in your ears.
Bucky gets one hand under Steveโs arm and the other braced hard at his back. โAlright, Stevie,โ he mutters, more to himself than to Steve. โUp we go.โ
The lift tears a brutal cry out of Steve.
Youโve never heard that sound from him before. Pain has pulled groans from him, curses too, all stubbornly swallowed before anyone could make much of them. But Steveโs too far gone to care about that now.
โI know,โ Bucky says at once, voice gone tight as he arranges Steve onto the table. โI know,ย I know. Mโsorry, Stevie. Iโm sorry.โ
Steve is too far under to hear him properly. His head rolls against the wood, lashes fluttering, mouth open around another broken sound when Bucky drags his legs up after him. The table creaks beneath his weight. Blood smears across the pale grain in a dark, ugly sweep. Then Bucky plants one hand low on Steveโs abdomen and presses down hard.
Steveโs whole body jerks.
โShit,โ Bucky grunts out, leaning his weight into it when Steve tries to curl away from the pressure. โI know, pal. Ainโt got a choice.โ
You just stand there, frozen.
Thatโs the shame in it.ย You stand there with your hands curled uselessly at your sides and your bare feet near broken crockery, staring at your outlaw bleeding out across your kitchen table. There is some part of you, in the back of your head, that understands the urgency of the scene, begging you to move. Butย the rest of you is somewhere else entirely, watching from a distance as the biggest, most capable man you have ever known lies pale as linen and fights for the next breath.
โLady,โ Bucky snaps. โI need you with me.โ
But you donโt answer, eyes fixed on the slow rile and fall of Steveโs chest. The terrible wait between each shallow pull of air and the next. The horrible stillness after every breath, when your heart seems to stop with his and only starts again when his chest moves.
Buckyโs bloody hand slams against the table. โMiss!โ
Your eyes jerk to him, though the rest of you stays frozen in place. He looks furious - terrified too, but masked beneath the practical need to keep moving.ย His jaw is set, his breathing hard, one hand still pressed down over Steveโs wound while the other points at you like he can drag sense back into you by force.
โYou can stare at him dead or you can help me keep him livinโ,โ he says. โPick quick.โ
The words snap you back to reality. Your throat tightens, and you take a steadying breath, โWhat do you need?โ
You scramble through your own house, trying to remember everything Bucky lists as fast as he names it.ย
Lamps first, hands shaking hard enough that the chimney glass knocks against the metal. Then cloths from the press. The clean sheet from your bed, yanked free with one sharp pull and bundled under your arm. Thread from the sewing box. Needle. Whiskey from the cupboard that you only keep in for Steve. You put water on the stove and nearly drop the pot before you get it settled.
Behind you, Bucky cuts Steveโs shirt open. The sound of Steve groaning under the movement turns your stomach, but Bucky only mutters a low apology and keeps working, dragging ruined cloth away from ruined skin before reaching for the whiskey and one of the clean rags you brought him. He wipes around the wound with brisk, careful pressure, until the blood smears thinner and the shape of the damage begins to show.
You wish at once that he hadnโt.ย
It looks smaller than it should for all the red it has made, one ugly hole low on Steveโs abdomen, close to his hip, and swollen angry at the edges. Blood keeps welling steadily no matter how quickly Bucky clears it. Steveโs stomach jumps beneath every touch, muscle pulling tight before giving out again.
โBulletโs still in,โ Bucky confirms, mouth grim. โAinโt deep. Thatโs the good news. Bad news is youโre takinโ it out and sewinโ him up.โ
โNo!โ Youโre shaking your head before the word has even finished leaving your mouth. โYou crazy, mister? I canโt do that!โ
Steve makes a rough sound, half breath, half pain, and Bucky glances down long enough for something scared to flash over his face.
โWell, little lady, unless you reckon you can hold down two hundred pounds of half-delirious cowboy when he starts thrashinโ while I go fishinโ through his guts, then yes,ย you can.โ Buckyโs hand clamps harder over Steveโs middle when Steve shifts with a broken sound, his shoulders lifting from the table before the strength goes out of him again. โBecause if he comes off this table, heโll tear himself up worse than he already is, and I canโt hold him and dig the bullet out at the same time.โ
Your mouth opens, but nothing follows.
The lamp catches the sweat on Steveโs throat and the red glistening on Buckyโs hands. Too much of it. Too much on the table, too much soaked into Steveโs shirt, too much slipping between Buckyโs fingers no matter how hard he presses.
You nod once, firm, forcing the fear down into something more useful. Some of the harshness leaves Buckyโs face, not enough to soften him completely, but enough for you to see the man Steve must have trusted with all the worst parts of himself.ย
โGood girl, Iโll talk you through it,โ Bucky says, already reaching for the whiskey. โSteady hands is all I need from youโ
So you give him steady hands.ย Or try to.
You wash them until the water in the basin clouds pink from blood. Bucky talks all the while, voice firm enough to keep you moving from one instruction to the next. He pours a splash of whiskey over the wound and Steve flinches from the table with a staggered cry, only for Bucky to catch him hard across the chest and shove him back down.
โI know, Iโm sorry, pal,โ Bucky murmurs, hands firm at Steveโs shoulders. โBut you gotta try and stay still Stevie, please.โ
The softness in his voice does nothing to gentle his grip.ย If anything, thatโs what makes it worse: the way he bends close to Steveโs ear and coaxes him like a wounded horse whilst holding him down with enough strength to bruise. He gets the belt from his own waist and folds the leather between Steveโs teeth, fingers careful at his jaw.
โBite down,โ he instructs. โBefore you break your damn teeth trying not to make noise.โ
Steveโs lashes flutter, eyes too glassy to find either of you properly, but his teeth close around the leather. Buckyโs hand lingers one second at the side of Steveโs face before he reaches into his coat and pulls out a small roll of oilcloth, the kind of thing only carried by men on the wrong side of the law with no doctor waiting.
Inside is a short knife, and a pair of narrow steel forceps. He snatches those up first and presses them into your palm.
You take a steadying breath. It doesnโt help much
The first touch of metal to torn flesh makes Steve cry out around the belt, the sound muffled and awful. His hand slams against the table hard enough to rattle the bowl, but Bucky catches his wrist and pins it down without looking away from the wound. He murmurs something too low for you to catch.
Apology, prayer, curse; with men like them, there may not be much difference.
Under Buckyโs instruction, you search for the bullet,ย stopping every time Steveโs body bucks beneath Buckyโs hold. It feels endless, a handful of seconds stretched cruel by the sound of Steveโs breathing and the red shining over your fingers. Then the forceps catch on something hard, something that does not belong inside a man, and Buckyโs voice cuts through the room at once.
โThatโs it. Easy now. Pull straight.โ
The bullet comes free slick with blood and drops into the bowl with a dull little clink. For all the damage it has done, it looks far too small.
Bucky lets out a breath, but he doesnโt let go of Steve. โGood,โ he praises, rough. โThatโs real good, darlinโ. Now stitch him.โ
Threading the needle takes three tries and a muttered curse before the thread finally slips through. Cloth never prepared you for this - it stays put under your hands. Flesh has a give to it that turns your stomach, but you swallow it down and focus on the path of the needle, in one side and out the other, the thread slowly drawing the wound closed.
Bucky watches the first one go through, then the second, and whatever he sees must satisfy him enough to turn more of his attention back to Steve.
โDoinโ good, Stevie,โ he murmurs. โStay with me. There you go. Tough bastard like you donโt get to die in a schoolteacherโs kitchen.โ
Steve makes a sound around the belt, weak now, worn down by pain and blood loss until even agony seems to cost too much effort. Then the needle catches wrong, just enough to make his body twitch beneath Buckyโs grip.
โFuckโIโm sorry Steve,โ you whisper before you can stop yourself,ย pulling the stitch through with a shaking hand. โIโm nearly done, promise.โ
Bucky glances at you, then back down at him. โHear that, Rogers? Ladyโs apologisinโ to you while saving your sorry hide. You better live long enough to thank her proper.โ
By the time you tie off the final stitch, your back aches, your hands are cramped, and your nightdress is ruined past saving. Bucky binds the wound tight with strips torn from your clean sheet, wrapping them firm while you hold Steveโs hand and try not to notice how loosely his fingers curl around yours now.
When Bucky finally steps away, the room seems to take its first full breath since two outlaws crashed into your evening. He wipes his hands on the edge of the sheet, eyes tracking over Steve, watching for any fresh red spilling through the bandage. He nods once to himself when none does.
โAlright,โ Bucky says at last. โNow we keep him warm, and thank God heโs a stubborn son of a bitch.โ
With the worst of the work done, the night settles into a long, sleepless vigil.
Steve is covered with every blanket you own, and neither of you can tear your eyes away from him long enough to do much beyond tend to him.ย His body has finally given itself over the exhaustion, sleeping so deeply you watch for his breaths to make sure heโs still alive. You clean what you can from him with a wet cloth - the dirt on his cheek, the sweat from his brow, the blood on his hands.
Bucky stays in the chair by Steveโs head.
He looks half-dead himself, shoulders bowed beneath exhaustion, eyes shadowed, jaw slackening each time sleep nearly takes him before he drags himself back from it. Every time Steveโs breathing changes, Buckyโs head lifts. Every time Steve shifts, Buckyโs hand is already there, soothing him back to stillness. Small, tender brushes of his hand through damp blond strands. He does it without thinking, with the ease of habit, and you get the feeling youโre seeing something usually kept from view.
Itโs a strange thing to witness from a man with his name on a wanted poster. Itโs a strange thing to witness from a man at all, really.
โThe Winter Kidโย the papers call him - always printed near Steveโs name like one shadow following another. Heโs younger than the posters make him look, or maybe just more human. Handsome too, though that thought feels poorly timed and unwelcome. But true all the same.
Maybe he can feel you looking, because his eyes lift to yours a moment later. Theyโre unfairly blue against the tan of his skin and the dark fall of his hair,and for one strange second you feel caught in them the way you do in Steveโs.
โWhat?โ he asks, tilting his head.
You shrug, a little embarrassed, but you hold his gaze. โYou donโt look much like your picture.โ
โYeah, well.โ The corner of his mouth twitches, and for the first time you feel that charm Steve warned you about, battered but not dead. โThey charge extra for likeness.โ
A small laugh slips out of you before you can stop it. Bucky hears it, and the corner of his mouth seems to twitch a fraction further up, pleased with himself. The air between you seems a little lighter after that, still ruled by Steveโs breathing, but less like two strangers keeping watch over a dying man and more like two people bound, against all better judgement, to the same stubborn fool.
โI expected you shorter,โ you admit, causing Bucky to raise a brow. โYou know, from the name.โ
Bucky groans like this is a wound all its own, head tipping back against the chair for half a second. โChrist. Not you too.โ
โWell, it does give a certain impression,โ you add, just to goad.
โIt gives me a headache is what it gives me.โ He drags a tired hand down his face, though the shape of a smile keeps threatening at his mouth. โYou know how hard it is to be taken serious by women when half of โem start grinninโ soon as they hear Kid?โ
โFrom what Steve tells me,โ you say, glancing down at the man asleep between you, โyou seem to manage just fine.โ
His expression shifts slightly at that. Surprise first, then something warmer he tries to hide by leaning back in his chair and letting the charm crawl into the corner of his mouth. Worse now you know to look for it.
โOh yeah?โ he drawls, voice smoother than it should be after all his shouting. โAnd what exactlyย hasย Rogers told you about how I treat a lady, darlinโ?โ
You reach for the damp cloth beside you and wring it out over the basin, refusing to give him the satisfaction of looking flustered. โCareful, Mr. Barnes. Iโve still a mind to pick my shotgun back up.โ
Bucky seems more pleased by your threat than scared, but lifts his hands in surrender all the same, โOf course, Miss. Iโll behave.โ
After that, the conversation drifts into exchanging stories about Steve.ย It feels odd to speak of him like this whilst he lies pale beneath your blankets, yet necessary too, as if each foolish little detail sets another small weight on the side of the scale that says living.
Eventually, though, you canโt avoid the question anymore.
โWhat happened?โ
Buckyโs smile disappears instantly, replaced by a grimace. โRumlow.โย
Just the name is enough to fill the room with dread.
Brock Rumlow has a reputation that travels ahead of him. Bounty hunter, most folk call him. Brutal killer, if folk were feeling honest. But a good man by the townโs measure because he kills with the sheriffโs blessing.ย
โHe caught our trail two days west,โ he explains. โWe thought weโd shaken him after the river crossinโ. But Steve said the tracks were too clean, and of course he just had to be right.โ
His mouth twists, though thereโs no humour in it now.
โRumlow had men waitinโ by the ridge. More than we counted on. First shot took my horse out from under me, and Steve came back for me like the damned fool he is.โ Buckyโs hand goes to Steveโs hair again before he seems to notice it, fingers combing once through the damp strands before he pulls away. โI told him to ride. He didnโt.โ
Of course he didnโt.
That is what hurts most, perhaps. Not the recklessness - you made your peace with that,ย or tried to. No, itโs the unfortunate fact that no part of you can imagine him doing anything else because you know by now that Steve has never had much sense when someone he cares for is in danger. He might be a wanted man, but heโs good down to the marrow.
โHe drew their fire long enough for me to get my rifle,โ Bucky continues. โI managed to drop one man, maybe two. Then Rumlow put a bullet in him from the rocks. Steve stayed in the saddle after, somehow. Long enough to swear at me for fussinโ.โ
โThat sounds like him,โ you say quietly,ย reaching for Steveโs hand beneath the blankets. His fingers are cool when you fold them into yours and loose in a way that makes your throat tighten.
โYeah.โ Bucky huffs through his nose. โStubborn bastard made it near six miles telling me it was only a graze. Then he went white as flour and damn near pitched off the horse.โ
Your hand tightens around Steveโs before you can stop it. Buckyโs eyes catch it - for all his exhaustion, there is very little the man seems to miss.
โKept off the road after that, muddied the trial in the creek too.โ Bucky says. โLost โem for tonight, I reckon.โ
โFor tonight?โ
His eyes lift to yours, and they give you the answer before his mouth does. โRumlowโs still breathinโ, ainโt he?โ
That answers enough.
Bucky leansย forward and peels the edge of the blanket back just far enough to check the bandage. With gentle fingers, he presses near your stitches, watching for fresh blood, and you find yourself holding your breath until he lets the blanket fall back into place.
โStitches are holding,โ he confirms. โYou did good, darlinโ, real good.โ
Then his gaze drops to Steve, hand resting on his shoulder.
โCourse,โ he adds, murmuring almost to himself. โRogers always did know how to pick good people.โ
That makes you look back up at him, at the two of them together. And for a second you see it all playing out: Steve riding back into gunfire, Bucky dragging him through the dark, the two of them printed side by side on every wanted paper like the world has always known they come together.
โYeah,โ you reply softly, holding his gaze. โHe does.โ
The corner of Buckyโs mouth lifts without any of the charm from before. This smile is smaller, more honest. Grateful in a way neither of you can bear to acknowledge.ย
The next couple of days pass in pieces for Steve.
Pain consumes most of it, sharp enough to drag him sleep sometimes. But he always wakes to company and theย cool drag of a cloth over his face when fever leaves him damp and restless. Sometimes the hand at his brow is yours. Sometimes itโs Buckyโs calloused palms, not a soft but no less careful for it.
When he shifts too quickly, one of you is always there to press him back down. Your voice comes sweet near his ear, telling him to to rest and stop being difficult. Bucky has less patience about it, muttering,ย โQuit beinโ a jackass, Rogers,โbut the softness in his voice gives him away.
By the second day, he starts catching more of the world around him. Mostly, he catches the two of you speaking over him like heโs some troublesome piece of work you have mutually agreed to keep alive. He hears you show Bucky how to change the sheets without jostling him, and Bucky grumbling that youโre a bossy little thing. Your quiet snicker follows, easy enough by then to tell Steve youโve already learnt not to be scared of Buckyโs bark. And it settles him enough to fall back into another slumber.
Yet, when Steve wakes properly, the house is quiet. His mind goes straight trouble - you and Bucky hurt, or worse, taken.Then he sees the fresh cloth waiting on the washstand, the cup of water set near the bed, the plate of food left within reach. Someone has even pulled the blanket back from the edge of his bandage so it wonโt catch when he moves.
Still, his gaze flicks back to the empty chair, a little more wounded at being left alone than heโd admit.ย
But then he hears voices drift in from the window. Yours first, bright enough to pull his eyes open properly.ย Bucky answers beneath it, rougher and far too pleased with himself, and Steve rolls his eyes fondly at the ceiling. He knows Bucky in that mood, and exactly the kind of trouble he thinks heโs charming his way out of.
The sound of you both laughing together is too sweet to resist, and it pulls at Steveย before he can think better of it. So he presses one hand to his side, grits his teeth and pushes himself upright with a low grunt.ย
By the time he makes it to the doorway, heโs sweating through his shirt, and lightheaded enough that he has to lean against the frame for support. But when his vision focuses on the two of you, the pain pulsing from his side seems to subside.ย
Buckyโs leaning against the fence with his sleeves rolled to his elbows - an unabashed display of his toned forearms if Steveโs ever seen one - hat tipped back and a loose board braced beneath his boot. He must have been fixing it before he got distracted. Or before you distracted him. Either way, heโs smiling at you like he knowsย justย how handsome he is, which, Steve thinks fondly,ย he does.
โYou call that fixed?โ you ask, eyeing the board.
โItโs standinโ, ainโt it?โ
โIt was standinโ before.โ
โWell, now itโs standinโ better.โ
Your mouth opens in disbelief, and Buckyโs grin widens like he has been waiting all morning to earn that exact look from you. He shifts the hammer in his hand, letting it hang loose at his side. โYou this particular with all the men who do chores for you?โ
โOnly the ones who do half a job and then stand there lookinโ pleased with themselves.โ You jibe, mouth curving before you can help it. โSteve never gives me cause to complain.โ
Bucky presses a hand to his chest, wounded clean through. โDarlinโ, I am beginninโ to think you donโt appreciate the quality of my help.โ
Steve watches your face as you say it, the way your smile tugs despite your best efforts to keep stern. Youโre standing closer than you need to. Close enough to swat his arm when he mutters something about schoolteachers being as scary as he remembers. Bucky catches your wrist before your hand drops, letting his thumb skim once across the inside of it before he lets it go.
Too friendly, some part of Steve thinks. He should mind that. He knows himself well enough to expect the old ugly twist, the hard little claim in his chest that has no manners and less patience. His girl. His Buck.
โYou remember I have a shotgun, right? Any more excuses from you and Iโll get it back out and see if it motivates you proper,โ you warn, though there is too much warmth in it to do much harm.
Bucky looks far too pleased by that. โHow could I forget?โ He dips his head, absolutely unrepentant. โPretty thing like you pointinโ a gun at me ainโt a picture a man forgets easy.โ
He really should mind that.ย
Only the longer he watches, the more it just seemsโฆย right. Thatโs the simple answer. The more complicated one is that thereโs a want in him he hasnโt allowed himself to acknowledge until now.ย
Then Bucky says something softer, and whatever it is makes your expression change. The teasing slips. You step forward and wrap your arms around him, gentle at first, then tighter when Bucky folds around you in return. His hand spreads over your back, yours presses between his shoulders, and he rests his chin on your head.
Something in Steveโs stomach twists hot, and itโs not the bullet wound.ย
Oh.
Well.
That explains a few things.
When you pull back, your fingers drag lightly down Buckyโs sleeve before falling away.ย And then your eyes catch Steve in the doorway.
The smile drops straight off your face.
โSteve!โ you chide. โGood lord, you shouldnโt be standinโ up yet!โ
Bucky turns fast, all charm gone in an instant. โYou stupid son of aโโ
โWhy arenโt you in bed?โ you demand, already crossing the yard towards him. โYouโre meant to be resting. Youโll tear the stitches, youโllโโ
โWhatโre you doinโ?โ Steve asks.
His voice is rough from sleep and disuse, but it cuts through your panic all the same. You stop a few feet short of him, caught between scolding him like one of your schoolchildren and reaching for him. Bucky has followed you, but that damn mouth of his curves back into his signature smirk.
โStealinโ your woman?โ he replies.
Steve huffs a laugh at that, breath catching a little in his chest from the pull of it. He shakes his head, looking between the two of you with something warm and wry beneath the exhaustion.
โTake her,โ he shrugs,ย turning back towards the house, pretending with little success that every step doesnโt pull at his side.
You both go quiet behind him. Steve pauses at the doorway just long enough to glance back, tired eyes moving between the two of you.
โWhat?โ he says, mouthย twitching as he makes his slow way back to bed. โTake her.โ
Bucky watches him go, grin crooked and eyes a little too soft. โWell, youโre a romantic bastard, Iโll give you that.โ
You climb into bed that night tentatively, careful to keep your distance from Steve so you canโt accidentally hurt him.
He watches you fuss with tired amusement, flat on his back beneath the blankets. Heโs been patient all day because heโs had no choice in the matter, but now, with you so close, what little patience he has left wears thin.
His arm reaches for you beneath the quilt. โCโmere.โ
โBut you need to be carefulโโ
He tugs you closer before you can finish, stubborn as always, and though the movement pulls a faint wince from him, it also draws a low, pleased rumble from his chest when you end up pressed along his side.
โSteve,โ you hiss, braced on one elbow, already trying to take some of your weight off him.ย โYouโre goingโ to hurt yourself.โ
โWorth it,โ he murmurs.
You open your mouth to argue, but his lips find your shoulder first.ย He kisses over your skin lazily, as if he has all the time in the world and no bounty hunter breathing down the road.ย Thenย moves to side of your throat, where his beard scrapes softly enough to make your breath catch. Any protest thins in your mouth and dies there, useless, and the ease with which you melt for him makes Steve smile against your skin.
โMissed you,โ he hums, pleased with himself.
The words catch somewhere tender, and before you can stop it, the fear youโve been holding back for days slips free. โI thought you were goingโ to die.โ
Steveโs mouth stills against your skin. For a moment, he says nothing, then his jaw sets with all the stubborn bravado of a man determined to make the thing smaller than it was.ย โDonโt make a big deal out of it.โ
You stare at him, eyes burning, and Steveโs bravado doesnโt survive it. His expression softens before he pulls you closer despite the faint wince it costs him, burying his face against your neck.
โNo,โ he murmurs, voice rough now. โMake a big deal out of it.โ
Your fingers tighten in his shirt. Steve kisses your temple and lets you hold him as hard as you need to, though you can feel the care he takes with every breath.ย
โYouโre a fool,โย you grumble against his chest.
โI know,โ he agrees easily.
โAnd stubborn.โ
โI know that too,โย he adds, the hint of a smile returning to his voice.
You lift your head enough to glare at him through the last sting behind your eyes. โDonโt sound so smug.โ
โCanโt help it.โ His hand slides from your waist, broad palm warm through the thin cotton of your nightdress. โYou get awful sweet when you forget to be cross with me, maโam.โ
You should scold him. You mean to. Instead your head tips, giving him more room, and Steveโs breath warms where your pulse has already started tripping under his mouth.ย Then his fingers drift lower, gathering your nightdress up slowly so his hand can hand slip between your thighs, and what comes out of you isnโt an answer at all. Itโs too soft, too needy, your hips shifting before your pride can stop them.
Steve only hums, like that tells him everything he needs to know.
โPoor thing,โ he murmurs. โYouโre soaked already.โ
You make a small sound of protest, breath catching asย your hips shift against his palm. โYou should be resting.โ
โIย amย resting,โ he counters. โYouโre the one making all that noise.โ
Heat rushes straight through you. โSteve.โ
He grins, because he knows what that tone means.ย His fingers drag through your pussy, spreading the slick of you over your skin until you canโt hold back the needy little moan that escapes. โBuck been winding you up all day, huh? Flashing those pretty eyes at you, running that mouth, standing too close every chance he got.โ
You bite your lip hard, but Steve knows your body too well by now. The little tremor that goes through you when he presses two fingers to your entrance, and the way your knees loosen when he rubs his thumb over your clit.
โMm. Saw the way you looked at him.โ His thumb presses a little firmer, drawing another helpless sound from you as his voice drops rougher by your ear. โSaw the way he looked at you too. Like he was wondering how sweet youโd sound if somebody got a hand under your skirt.โ
You turn your face into his shoulder, scandalised and burning, but the heat pooling low in you stomach tells a different story. โYou canโt say things like that.โ
โSeems I just did.โ
His fingers push into you then, thick enough to make you clutch at his shirt, his name leaving you in a soft, broken sound. Steve goes still for a breath, jaw tightening as your pussy clenches around him, warm and slick and greedy enough to make him curse the wound in his side for keeping his cock out of you.
โAtta girl,โ he murmurs, voice rough at your ear. โOpen up for me, sweetheart.โ
Your thighs part around his hand, your body taking him with a helpless little roll of your hips. His cock twitches heavy against your leg, and the moan that slips out of you is louder than you mean it to be, needy enough to make heat rush to your face.
โThatโs my girl,โ Steve coos. โBeen so good taking care of me, havenโt you? Let me take care of you now.โ
โWaitโfuckโStevie, heโll hear us.โ you protest weakly,ย eyes flicking toward the door, where Bucky is sleeping on the couch on the other side.
Steveโs fingers slow, but they donโt stop. If anything, his touch turns crueller, pumping in and out of your pussy with an unhurried drag as his thumb circles your clit.
โGood,โ he says at last.
Your eyes widen.
Steve curls his fingers inside you, pressing just right, and your whole body jerks against him. โLet him.โ
Your pussy tightens around him before you can pretend to be scandalised. Steve feels it and smiles, filthy and pleased, as another moan slips out of you. You try to swallow it down, but his thumb keeps stroking your clit and his fingers keep fucking you open, slow enough to make every wet sound feel obscene in the quiet room.
โSโokay, honey,โ he encourages, kissing beneath your ear. โI donโt mind. You make those pretty noises for me and let Buck hear what heโs missinโ out on.โ
โSteve,โ you whimper into his neck, overwhelmed by the heat of it, by the way he says Buckโs name with no jealousy at all. Like it turns him on too. Like he knows exactly what he is doing to you.
His mouth brushes your jaw. โPoor bastard probably spent all afternoon thinkinโ about what youโd sound like if he got his hands on you,โ he rumbles, fingers driving deeper until your breath catches sharp. โNow heโs out there listeninโ to me do it.โ
Your fingers curl in the front of his shirt, hips moving against his hand now, chasing more. Steve makes a rough sound like the sight of you fucking yourself on his fingers might kill him faster than any bounty hunter ever could.
Then your hand slides lower before you can think better of it, finding the hard line of his cock through his drawers. He curses under his breath, hips twitching once into your palm before pain catches at him and makes his jaw clench.
You pull back instantly. โSteveโโ
โDonโt.โ His hand tightens on your thigh, stubborn even now, even with sweat at his temple and breath caught in his chest. โIโm fine, pretty girl, promise.ย Just need your hand on my cock. Need my girl to make it better.โ
Your answering moan is too wanton to stifle, and out on the couch, Bucky hears it.ย
Heโs been awake for a while, one arm thrown over his eyes, every sore port of him arguing with the hard springs beneath the couch cushion. At first, he told himself he was just listening for Steve - thatโs reasonable enough. A man has a right to keep an ear out for his best friend when said friend has nearly bled dry on a kitchen table. And if said friend is in bed with his pretty little woman, well, thatโs hardly his fault,ย is it?
He knows should roll over and try to sleep. Or do literally anything other than listen to the needy catch in your breath when Steveโs fingers must find something good. Heat pulls through him before he can talk sense into himself. Itโs been crawling under his skin all day. And now Steveโs voice is torturing him in the dark, coaxing the prettiest noises out of you like he means for Bucky to hear everyone.
His hand slides down over the hard ache in his trousers before he can pretend better of himself. His hips jerk into his palm at the first firm press.ย
Bucky shuts his eyes as his lips part around a groan of relief.ย
He should feel worse about it, probably. A gentleman might. Then again, heโs never made much of a claim to being one, and thereโs nothing gentlemanly about Steve is talking to you through the door. Low and rough, sweet in all the wrong places, telling you how good you are for him whilst you make those soft ruined sounds that go straight to Buckyโs cock.
His fingers work the buttons of his trousers open, and heโs so wound up that the first touch to his throbbing length makes his hips jerk up.ย Heโs already hard enough to hurt, thick and hot in his grip, precum slicking the head as he strokes once from base to tip. He has to force himself slower so he doesnโt spill too fast, listening to the shift of the bed in the next room and the wet sound of Steveโs fingers fucking you.
โDonโt hide from me,โ Steve rumbles, voice carrying just enough. โWant him to hear how pretty you get when you comeโ
The needy moan you cry out in response, makes Buckyโs hand tighten and his eyes squeeze shut. He can picture it all wall for a man who hasnโt a right to see any of it. Your thighs spread under Steveโs hand, nightdress pushed up, tucking your face into Steveโs neck as you try and fail to keep quit. Steve, wounded and recovering, still generous enough to make sure Bucky knows what heโs missing.ย
โStevie,โ you gasp, and Buckyโs cock jerks in his fist.
He drags his thumb over the swollen head with enough pressure to make his stomach pull tight. The couch springs creak beneath him when his hips jump into his hand, and he freezes momentarily, listening. But neither of you stop. If anything, Steve laughs, low and filthy, like he heard the sound and knows eaxctly what it means.ย
โThatโs it, sweetheart,โ Steve groans. โBet Buckโs got his hand around his cock right now, listeninโ to you. Bet he canโt help himself.โ
Bucky presses his forearm over his mouth, a helpless grin pulling at him even as pleasure burns through his gut. Bastard. Mean, beautiful bastard. He strokes himself harder, giving up on pacing himself, fist slick and tight around his cock as your moans slip through the thin bedroom door and wrap around every filthy picture Steve puts in his head.
โWish he could see you right now,โ Steve goads, and Bucky nearly spills right there. โSo wet for me. Sweet little pussy takinโ my fingers so good. Heโd lose his fuckinโ mind.โ
His hips buck desperately into his first, breath coming harsh through his nose as Steve keeps talking like he knows every dirty place Buckyโs mind has gone and means to walk you through all of them. Your moans pitcher higher, thinner, more desperate.
โPleaseย Stevieโso close,โ you whine, and Bucky doesnโt think heโs ever heard anything more beautiful.ย
โIโve got you, sweet girl,โ Steve coos. โCome for me. Let him hear.โ
The sound you make as you fall apart under Steveโs hand is obscene. You pleasure spills out into the dark as Steve praises you in that honey-deep registerย like heโs got his fingers buried in the best thing heโs ever touched. Bucky strokes himself harder, cock slick in his fist, teeth digging into his wrist to keep his own noise down.
Then Steve groans low around a curse, andย God, Bucky knows that sound.ย Learnt on cold nights under open sky when bedrolls were laid a polite distance apart and neither of them ever spoke of what they heard in the dark.
But hearing it now, with you, is enoughย to finish off what your moans started.
His hand works faster, rougher, chasing it until he spills over his own knuckles. He strokes himself through it, hips jerking up into his fist, hot cum slicking his fingers while the last of Steveโs filthy praise drifts through the door.
Head falling back against the couch, he throws his free hand over his eyes again as if that might make a decent man of him after the fact. But the other is still loose around his sensitive, softening cock.ย From the bedroom, Steve mutters something too low for him too catch, but you laugh in response, breathless.
Bucky smiles up at the ceiling, completely and utterly fucked. Both of you tucked under his skin, deep as a wound and twice as troublesome.ย
โRomantic bastard,โ he scoffs into the dark.
ย You wake reaching for Steve, hands sliding over the sheets in search of the warmth thatโs usually gone by the time daylight finds you. For one awful, familiar second, your heat braces for emptiness, and then your fingers meet his chest.ย Still there.
The joy it brings is so small and foolish it almost hurts. Steveโs still beside you, warm beneath your palm, alive beneath your hand, his breath moving slow and steady. You donโt mean to smile as hard as you do for something that wonโt last, but you feel it happen anyway.ย
Steveโs eyes crack open, tired blue finding you through the grey morning light. His mouth curves faintly.ย
โMorninโ,โ he rasps.ย
He lifts a hand with more effort than he lets show and brushes his knuckles along your cheek before drawing you close enough to kiss your forehead. It is gentle. Domestic, almost, in a way that feels absurd given the blood dried somewhere in your kitchen and the wanted posters nailed up in town.
But then Steve starts trying to get up. He looks pale enough that you threaten him twice before he gets both feet on the floor.ย
โYou are pale enough to haunt this house, Steve Rogers.ย Sit still.โ
His brows lift, innocent as sin. โJusโ thinkinโ about breakfast is all, maโam, swear.โ
He takes your continued scolding with a faint curve to his mouth, one hand shielding the wound slightly, as you get up to help him dress. He even lets you fuss over him, and you breathe a sigh of relief when you see no red blooming on his bandages.ย
By the time you get him into the kitchen, his jaw his set hard enough to make you narrow your eyes. Steve takes your silent warning and lowers himself into the chair before bringing your hand to his mouth and kissing the inside of it. Just a brief, warm brush of his lips, eyes lifting to yours in quiet apology for every minute heโs made your heart suffer these last few days.
The door opens before you can say anything soft enough to embarrass you both. Bucky steps inside with a sack under one arm; heโs been gone since first light, having ridden into town for coffee, cartridges, and whatever else two outlaws and one increasingly compromised schoolteacher might need. Youโre expecting some crooked remark as he kicks the door shut behind him. Maybe something about Steve looking less like a corpse, or you running the kitchen like a jailhouse.
Instead, his face is grim.
Steve clocks it immediately, and his shoulders straighten. Pain forgotten under the old readiness that lives dormant in him until needed. โWhat?โ
Bucky sets the sack on the table. โYou feel well enough to ride?โ
Steve frowns. โIf I have to.โ
โGood.โ Buckyโs eyes flick over you, brows tightening, then back to Steve. โRumlowโs in town, asking questions at the mercantile. Offered coin for anyone who knew anythinโ about Steve Rogers and The Winter Kid.โ
Steve face flattens, jaw setting into that hardened mask he uses to cover whatever else heโs feeling. Nodding once, he pushes up from the chair.
โSteveโโ you start at once.
He bends and kisses you before you can finish, once hand gentle at the side of your face. It tastes too close to a goodbye kiss for your heart to bare, and the panic rises in your throat.
โWeโll draw him off, honey,โ he murmurs, clearly misinterpreting your worry. โHe wonโt know you had anything to do with us.โ
Then he turns to Bucky. โGet the horses ready. Weโll cut south - maybe this time we stop talking about Mexico and actually head there.โ
Mexico?
You look from Steve to Bucky, at the silent communication already passing between them, and the speed with which they become men leaving. Men packing their lives into saddlebags. Men deciding what they can carry and what must be left, including, apparently, you.ย
โTake me with you.โ
Both of them immediately stop.
Steve turns firs,t protest already written across his face. โSweetheart, you canโt seriously โโ
Bucky interrupts, sharper. โAbsolutely not.โ
โI wasnโt askinโ,โ you counter firmly, mustering upย the same voice you use in the schoolhouse when a child thinks they might try their luck.
Steveโs brows pull together. โYou donโt know what youโre suggestinโ.โ
โI do.โ
โYou donโt.โ Bucky cuts in, which only makes you angrier. โThis life ainโtโโ
โAinโt what?โ you return. โFor aย lady?โ
That closes his mouth. For once, Bucky Barnes has no clever answer ready, and Steve looks no better. The two of them stand there, each searching for the combination of words least likely to upset you further and finding none fast enough.
โAfter last night, I think any claim I had to beinโ a lady has been thoroughly mishandled.โ
A flush climbs through the rough gold of Steveโs beard at once, and he drops his eyes to the table as if the wood grain has become a matter of deep interest. Bucky looks toward the window with equal dignity, which is to say very little, given what he had so clearly heard through your bedroom door.ย But you feel a little wild with it now. Freed by the strange relief of having already stepped over the edge in your own mind.
โIโm a schoolteacher in a town thatโs been dyinโ for years,โ you continue. โFolk still smile at me like Iโm still respectable, but every year I stay unmarried, they look a little closer for the rot. And every night I come back to this house alone, and wait to hear news of Steveโs death.โ
Steveโs face falls, and he looks at you with such earnest guilt that you have to look away or youโll lose the nerve to finish. Your eyes sting badly enough that you have to blink hard and focus on staring at the floorboards.
โIโm no fool,โ you say. โI know what Iโm sayinโ. Long days. Cold nights. Men with guns behind us. I know it wonโt be some grand adventure out of a penny paper.โ You lift your head again. โBut I want a life I choose. I want more than waitinโ in this house for grief to come find me. And I want to be with you.โ
Bucky looks at Steve then, and Steve returns it. They do that thing again where a whole conversation seems to pass without either of them opening their mouth, and you can already tell this is a feature of them that will get on your nerves. Still, you stand there and wait. You can see them weighing the right choice. You can also see, with a painful twist of hope, that neither of them likes the thought of leaving you behind.
Steve exhales through his nose. โYouโd have to listen.โ
โTo both of us,โ Bucky adds. โWhen it counts. If Steve says run, you run. If I say stay put, you donโt move a muscle.โ
โYouโll ride until you ache,โ Steve says, eyes searching your face for the first sign of regret. โSleep under open sky. Eat beans out of a tin when thereโs nothing else.ย Go without a proper bed more often than youโll have one.โ
Bucky leans his hip against the table, arms folding, his expression hard despite the tired edge of him. โAnd youโll keep that shotgun close. Learn a pistol too, whether you like it or not. Pretty face wonโt do much good if Rumlow catches up.โ
โIโll do it,โ you agree, looking at Steve first, then Bucky, making yourself hold both their gazes long enough for them to see thereโs fear in you, plenty of it. Just none useful enough to change your mind. โIโll do it all, I promise.โ
They seem satisfied enough to move again, almost. Steveโs hand twitches toward the supplies, Buckyโs eyes flick to the door. But you stop them before the moment can run away from you.
โThe only thing I wonโt do,โ you continue, quieter, โis watch either of you die. Iโll skip that scene, if you donโt mind.โ
Steveโs hand closes around yours before you can busy yourself with anything else, or turn away and pretend the words werenโt all too honest.
โOnce we go,โ his eyes hold steady on yours, โwe go.โ
Thereโs warning in it, but thereโs promise too. You squeeze his hand in confirmation.ย
โThen letโs go.โ
You leave before the town has finished waking, with no grand farewell to your little house. Just five minutes to pack the essentials, and everything else left behind for the town to make stories about two bad men and the lady they corrupted.
For the first couple weeks, you ride with Bucky. At first, Steve enjoys watching the two of you grow closer. But a few days passย without your arms around his waist and the man starts acting abandoned. Nothing dramatic, of course. Steve Rogers is far too dignified for that. He only gets quieter, pouts into his coffee, and looks at you from under those ridiculous lashes with his pretty blue eyes, utterly wounded.
But thereโs only so much sympathy you can give him when every jolt of his horse leaves his face tight and grey - having you pressed against his side would pull at the wound no matter how carefully you held him, so you sit behind Bucky instead. Your arms wrap around his middle, sometimes resting your cheek between his shoulder blades when the road stretches long.
Heโs always warm - despite the nickname - and complains when your cold hands slip under his coat in the mornings, but never makes you move them.
Itโs on one such morning that the question slips out before itโs even fully formed in your head. Absent in its curiosity.ย
โBucky?โ
He turns his head back slightly, catching your face in the corner of his eye.ย โHmm?โ
Your chin is hooked over his shoulder, the brim of his hat shading your eyes from the sun. Steve is riding a bit ahead, far enough to pretend heโs not listening and close enough you know he is.
โDo you ever wonder, if Iโd met you first, that weโd be the ones the get involved?โ
Bucky makes a thoughtful sound, as though this is a matter requiring serious study. โBut we are involved, sugar.โ
You lift your head. โAre we?โ
โYouโre ridinโ my horse with me.โ His hand covers yours where it rests against his stomach, thumb brushing once over your knuckles. โIn some countries, thatโs the same as being married.โ
Steve glances back over his shoulder. โName one.โ
โPlenty, Stevie,โ Bucky shoots back without missing a beat. โJust โcause you ainโt a romantic donโt mean it ainโt true.โ
โThat mean you donโt know any?โ
โMeans Iโm a man of mystery, Rogers. Let me have that.โ
You laugh into Buckyโs shoulder, and Steve turns forward again, shaking his head. Even from behind, you can see the curve at the corner of his mouth.
That becomes one of the biggest pleasures of the road, the two of them bickering like an old married couple with loaded guns and a shared talent for pretending they are the sensible one. Steve corrects Buckyโs directions. Bucky mocks Steveโs caution. Steve tells him caution is the reason heโs still alive, and Bucky retorts, โBarely,โ with a pointed look at the bandage under his shirt.ย
You learn to sit between it and smile into the back of Buckyโs coat, warm with the strange comfort of being folded into something that clearly existed long before you and somehow has made room for you anyway.
The weeks begin to fold into one another after that, measured less by days than by how far Steve can ride before pain makes him stubbornly quiet. He never says when itโs too much - of course he doesnโt. But you both learn the signs, so that when that happens, you or Bucky find an excuse to stop. Steve accepts each excuse with the grateful dignity of a man who knows precisely what youโre doing and lacks the strength to protest.
Some nights you find a town small enough to risk, and the three of you take one room under a false name while Steve lies stiff on the bed and Bucky sleeps in the chair with a gun across his lap. Other nights, there is only open country and the fire between you, Buckyโs coat under your head, Steveโs hand tucked around your waist, pleased now he can finally pull you close.
You learn quickly; you have to.ย
How to ride until your thighs ache and keep your complaints mostly to yourself. How to drink bad coffee without making a face. How to keep your hair pinned under a hat when passing through towns where a woman travelling with two men draws more attention than a pair of wanted faces.
Bucky teaches you to shoot a pistol at a row of bottles outside an abandoned line shack, and Steve stands behind you, correcting your grip until Bucky accuses him of distracting you.ย
Rumlow stays behind you like bad weather you canโt outride, always somewhere on the edge of the horizon. Some days thereโs no sign of him at all. Other days Bucky comes back from a supply run with his jaw tight, or Steve sees something in the dirt that makes both men go quiet. Neither of them likes fear on your face, so you learn how to hide that, too.
By the time Steveโs stitches come out, the three of you have already become a kind of routine.
Steve reads the land ahead. Bucky watches what follows. You keep track of the food, the clean cloth, and all the small human things the two of them would forget in favour of keeping moving. You sleep between them when the nights turn cold, Bucky pressed at your back and Steve careful against your front, one arm laid over your waist like even in sleep he means to keep you safe. Nobody ever says much about it in the morning.
But the trouble with Mexico is that it keeps costing money. By the third month, the coins in Buckyโs purse have started to sound lonely, and Steve has taken to rationing his own portions to make sure you have enough. You always protest that he needs it more, but it falls on deaf ears.
โWe need money,โ Bucky says one evening, poking at the fire with a stick.
Steve doesnโt look up from the map. โI know.โ
โWe need quite a bit of money.โ
โI know.โ
You look between them. โWhy do I get the feelinโ neither of you is about to suggest honest work?โ
Bucky grins. Steve sighs.
A plan is soon in place, and you quickly realise you arenโt just being given soft work. They arenโt just tucking you safely away and asking you to wait pretty by the horses.ย No, youโre the distraction. Steve watches your face intently whilst they explain your part,ย searching for fear, and Bucky watches your hands to see if they shake. They do, a little. You tell him they shake less when people stop staring at them.
โMean little thing when youโre nervous,โ Bucky murmurs.
โYouโd know better than to test me, then,โ you snap back, much to his delight.
And thatโs how you find yourself in your best dress two mornings later, walking into a town that has never heard your name and smiling sweetly at the bank clerk while Steve and Bucky do what Steve Rogers and The Winter Kid apparently do very well.
Soon, thereโs a saddle under your hips, stolen money in Steveโs saddle bag and Bucky laughing as the town bell starts clanging behind you. Steve rides quietly beside you, one hand low on his reins, hat pulled low against the flare. He looks more pensive than youโd expect for a man who just planned and executed a successful robbery.ย
โYou know,โ he considers, tilting his head. โWhen I was a kid, I always figured on beinโ a hero when I grew up.โ
โToo late now,โ Bucky shoots back instantly.
Steve turns in the saddle, mouth pulled into an exaggerated pout thatย almostย looks genuinely hurt by the insinuation. โYou didnโt have to say thatโWhatโd you have to say that for?โ
โBecause we just robbed a bank and youโre gettinโ wistful about virtue. Felt like someone ought to keep you on track.โ
You laugh before you can stop yourself, and Steve looks betrayed for all of half a second before his own mouth gives him away.
โI could still be heroic,โ he argues.
โOf course, Stevie,โย you soothe, reaching over to squeeze his arm. โAnd if heroism ever starts includinโ bank robbery, youโll be the first man I nominate.โ
Steve shakes his head, but thereโs warmth in it. Thereโs warmth amongst all three of you now.ย The money will carry you further south. Rumlow, for the moment, is behind you. And for one bright stretch of road, with the sun high and the horses steady beneath you, the three of you ride easy.
When you reach the next town just before dark, itโs mercifully large enough to have a hotel, though only just.ย The main building fronts the street, while a handful of squat lodging cabins stand behind it beside the stable yard, each containing little more than a bed, a washstand and a door that locks.
Youโve already separated from Bucky two streets over - two men and a woman trying to book one cabin would draw eyes. A man and his wife, tired from the road and keen to be left alone, draw far fewer.
Bucky will return after dark with supplies and come through the open window like any decent outlaw.
By now, the routine is well worn. Steve keeps his hat low and asks for a room for himself and his wife. Your stomach gives a foolish little turn at the word, which is unhelpful given the circumstances, so you tuck yourself closer into his side and play your part.
The clerk turns the ledger around. โName?โ
Steve takes the pen and writes one of the names agreed between the three of you, this time settling on Mr. and Mrs. Drysdale.
The clerks eyes move over Steve as he writes, a little too closely for your liking.ย Steveโs hat shadows most of his face, though there is only so much a brim can do against a jaw like his. Then the clerkโs gaze drops to you, lingering on the plain dress, the tired hem, the cheap ring on your finger where your hand rests neatly against Steveโs sleeve.
โLong road?โ he asks.
โLong enough,โ you answer before Steve can, sweet and harmless. โMy husbandโs been poor company since noon.โ
The clerkโs mouth twitches. โThat so?โ
โI get hungry,โ Steve says.
โHe getsย sulky,โ you correct.
The clerk looks amused now, his suspicion giving way to the easier pleasure of watching a married couple prod at each other. He reaches for a key from the row behind him.
โCabin four,โ he says. โOut and to the right.โ
Steve takes the key with a polite nod, your hand still tucked around his arm, and the two of you make your way to the cabin to wait for Bucky and whatever trouble he tends to bring back with him.
But exhaustion claims you before said trouble arrives. You barely manage to loosen your dress before crawling beneath the covers, telling Steve you only mean to close your eyes whilst he checks the room. The bed feels strangely wide after so many nights spent wedged between two warm bodies beneath the open sky. Even when there had only been Steve beside you, his arm always fond your waist before sleep did.ย
Tonight, the empty space at your back bothers you more than it ought to, and you drift off feeling faintly abandoned by both outlaws.ย
Until finally you stir to the mattress dipping behind you and warmth settling along your back. Itโs broad and familiar enough that your half-asleep mind doesnโt ask questions. Instead, you arch back into him, pleased to have your outlaw close, fitting your ass against his hips.ย
Impatiently, and a little pointedly, you reach back for the arm that has failed to wrap itself around you. You drag it over your waist and hold is hand beneath yours.ย
โTook you long enough,โ you mumble into the pillow, a little pout tucked into the words. After all those weeks of Steve looking wounded whenever you rode with Bucky, he might at least have the decency to act pleased now that he can pull you close whenever.
His body goes stiff, and you take the teasing for what it is, grinding back again. Slower this time,ย rolling your ass over the shape beneath his trousers until his cock begins to harden against you. A strained breath warms the back of your neck. Then another, rougher, when you press closer and keep moving, sleepy need gathering fast between your thighs.
Still, his hand remains where you put it.
Your brows pinch. Steve has never needed this much encouragement where you;re concerned. Usually, one soft sound from you is enough to have him pushing up your skirts and getting greedy with whatever he finds beneath them.
โStevie,โ you whine, catching his wrist again. โQuit makinโ me ask.โ
You guide his hand down over your stomach and between your thighs, pressing his palm against the heat gathered beneath your drawers. His fingers flex once. The groan that leaves him is low and delicious beside your ear, and you answer it with a needy little roll of your hips, trying to coax his hand into giving you what you want.
โThatโs it, honey.โ You hear Steve drawl, but his voice doesnโt come from behind you. โKeep grindinโ that pretty ass over Buckโs cock, heโs been waitinโ weeks to feel how sweet you are.โ
Your eyes snap open.ย
Steve is sat in the chair near the window, one ankle hooked over the other, watching the two of you through the low lamplight. His hat rests on the table beside him, hair pushed back from his face, and the hard shape beneath his trousers leaves little doubt as to how much heโs been enjoying the view.
Behind you, Bucky has gone completely still. His hand remains trapped between your thighs where you placed it, fingers flexing once against the damp cloth of your drawers before stopping again.
Steve catches the hesitation on your face.
โEasy, pretty girl,โ he coos, voice dropping softer. โYouโre alright.ย Ainโt nobody cross with you.โ
His gaze stays warm and steady on yours, settling some of the panic before it can take hold. Bucky makes no attempt to claim what you offered him in your sleep, leaving the choice entirely with you now that youโre awake, and the restraint loosens something in your chest.
You sink back against him again, and a quiet, needy โSteveโ slips from your mouth.ย
โWell, quit teasinโ him then, sweetheart. You dragged Buckโs hand down to that needy pussy yourself.โ His eyes stay on yours, smile turning wicked. โYou want him to touch you, donโt you?โ
You nod, โYes, Stevie,ย please.โ
Approval rumbles from Steve across the room at the same moment Bucky groans against your shoulder. His hand finally moves, slipping beneath the damp cloth between your thighs and dragging two rough fingers through the slick gathered there.
โChrist,โ Bucky breathes, the word warm against your neck. โYouโre soaked through darlinโ.โ
Your hips chase his hand before you can help it, opening wider as his fingers circle your clit.ย He parts you slowly, gathering the mess of you over his fingertips before circling your clit. And God, does he learn quickly.ย Taking each broken breath and twitch of your thighs as instruction, until your body is rolling against him with shameless impatience.
โThat feel good?โ he murmurs. โBeen wondering how sweet youโd get for me.โ
You whine and press back against him, already impatient, already desperate for more than the teasing drag of his fingers. Bucky laughs softly into your neck, pleased by how quickly you come apart for him.
โYeah, I can feel that.โ One finger presses into your pussy, drawing a thin moan from you as he works it deeper. โTaking me so easy. Such a good girl for us.โ
Bucky pushes a second finger into your pussy, and the stretch of them pulls a broken moan from you. His hand is rougher than Steveโs, the calluses catching at tender places as he works you open, but he watches every reaction with the same focused attention he gives everything. One curl of his fingers makes your thighs tremble, and he does it again immediately.
Steve watches from the chair with one hand resting over the hard shape in his trousers, his eyes fixed on the way you grind down over Buckyโs knuckles.
โThat it?โ he asks against your skin. โRight there, sugar?โ
โYesโGod, Buckโโ
Bucky curses when your walls tighten around him. โSheโs so damn sweet, Stevie.โ
Steveโs mouth curves.
โIf you think sheโs sweet around your fingers,โ he says, voice low enough to make your stomach clench, โwait till you get a taste of her.โ
The thought pulls a desperate sound from you. Bucky answers with a groan of his own, his fingers curling inside you as his gaze drops hungrily between your thighs from over your shoulder. Your hand is already reaching back, fingers tangling in his dark hair as you twist toward him and tug with very little patience left.
Bucky goes willingly, laughing once under his breath as he lets you pull him down the bed, tugging down your drawers as he goes.
โThat eager, darlinโ?โ
โYes,โ you gasp, spreading your thighs wider to accommodate those broad shoulders. โPlease.โ
Steve leans back in the chair, hand now palming over his cock as he watches.
โGo on, Buck,โ he drawls. โShow her that mouthโs good for something besides beinโ a clever jackass.โ
The first slow drag of Buckyโs tongueย through you tears a cry from your throat. His hands close around your hips at once, holding you open while he tastes you again, deeper this time, mouth working with none of the caution his fingers had shown. He licks through every slick fold, groaning against your pussy.
Then his tongue circles your clit, and your hips jerk sharply into his face.
โThere,โ Steve rumbles, hand pressing harder over his thick length, still trapped beneath too much fabric. โShe likes it right there. Donโt rush her, Buck. Keep your tongue flat and make her grind on it.โ
Bucky follows the instruction immediately. He spreads his mouth over you, tongue broad and slow beneath your clit while his grip shifts lower, fingers digging into the soft flesh beneath your thighs to pull you closer. Your back arches, breath breaking into a helpless whine as you begin to move against him, too desperate to stay still and too overwhelmed to find any rhythm beyond chasing whatever his mouth gives you.
โThatโs it,โ Bucky praises against you. โGood girl. Use me.โ
His words vibrate through your pussy and leave you clenching around nothing. He feels it, answers with another hungry groan, then slips two fingers back inside you while his mouth returns to your clit.
The room seems to tilt.
โBuckโSteveโGodโโ
Their names tangle together as Bucky curls his fingers into the place that makes your thighs shake.ย Steve keeps talking from across the room, telling Bucky when to press harder, when to keep his mouth where it is, every quiet command proving how well he knows your body and how willingly Bucky is learning it.
Pleasure builds so quicklyย that instinct has you trying to squirm away from it. Your hips twist even as they buck toward him, hands scrambling over the sheets while Bucky holds you firmly in place and refuses to let the distance grow.
โEasy, darlinโ,โ he soothes, breathless against you. โIโve got you. Let me have it.โ
But you canโt. You need more. Need both of them.
Your hand reaches blindly toward Steve even though heโs still too far away, fingers stretching uselessly through the space between you as his name leaves you in a broken plea. โStevie.โ
Heโs out of the chair before the word has finished.ย Steve comes to the bedside and catches your reaching hand, pressing it against his chest as he bends over you.
โIโm here, pretty girl,โ he coos. โYou close?โ
You nod frantically, one hand clutching his shirt and dragging him lower because words have abandoned you. Steve lets himself be pulled into the kiss, mouth covering yours just as Buckyโs tongue flicks hard over your clit again.
You moan against Steveโs lips as his hand slides into Buckyโs hair.
โCloser, Buck,โ Steve pants into your mouth, pushing him more firmly between your thighs. โSheโs trying to run from it. Donโt let her.โ
Bucky groans and buries his face deeper, lips and tongue turning greedy while Steve kisses you through every broken sound. The hand in Buckyโs hair holds him just where you need him, and Steveโs other palm cups your jaw, keeping your mouth against his as your body begins to lose all control.
โThatโs my best girl,โย Steve praises between kisses.ย โLettinโ me share this sweet pussy with Buck. Look how greedy youโve got him.โ
Your fingers knot in Steveโs shirt as your hips rise hard against Buckyโs face, chasing the relentless pressure of his tongue. Bucky holds you there and eats you through it, groaning when your thighs close around his head and the first desperate pulse of your orgasm rolls over his mouth.
You come with Steveโs name breaking against his lips and Buckyโs muffled beneath it, your whole body shuddering as slick spills over Buckyโs tongue and chin. Steve kisses every cry from you while Bucky greedily laps at everything you give him, refusing to stop until you are trembling and breathless between them.
Only then does Steve ease his hold in Buckyโs hair.
Bucky lifts his head slowly, mouth shining and eyes dark with satisfaction, looking every bit as wrecked as you feel. Heโs knelt between your thighs, one hand warm against your hip, whilst Steve is still leant over you.ย It leaves them close enough that Steveโs gaze has nowhere else to fall but Buckyโs mouth.
โFuck Stevie,โ he breathes,ย wiping his thumb beneath his lip only to suck the taste from it. โCanโt believe you kept her to yourself for so long. Greedy bastard.โ
But Steveโs gaze is too focused on Buckyโs swollen lips, glistening with your arousal, for his brain to think of a response. His tongue flicks out absently,ย sweeping over his lower lip as though he can already taste you there. The hunger in his face is so plain that your hand rises almost instinctively, fingers curling around his jaw and drawing him toward Bucky.
Their mouths meet hard enough to pull a startled sound from Bucky, and for one suspended second neither man moves. Steveโs hand stays curled around his jaw. Buckyโs fingers bunch in the front of Steveโs shirt. The rough scrape of stubble and the unfamiliar shape of another manโs mouth seem to catch them both off guard.
But then Bucky pulls him closer.
Steve takes hold of the back of his neck and kisses him properly, tongue pushing into Buckyโs mouth with a low groan, greedy for every trace of you left on his tongue.ย Bucky answers with all the hunger he had just spent between your thighs, opening for him as though this is something they have been circling for years without ever daring to name.
The sight of them together sends fresh heat curling low in your stomach.
Steveโs tongue pushes deeper into Buckyโs mouth, licking over his lips and teeth as though Bucky has become another place from which Steve can take his fill. Bucky groans,ย one hand sliding around the back of Steveโs neck while the other tightens possessively on your thigh.ย Every reckless rescue, every night spent back to back beneath the open sky, every time one of them chose the other without hesitation finally makes sense for what it has always been.
Your slick still glistens on Buckyโs chin. Steveโs mouth smears through it as the kiss deepens, and neither of them seems to care where one taste ends and the other begins. Years of rough affection and stranger devotion turn filthy in front of you, Steve holding Bucky by the jaw while Bucky bites lightly at his lower lip before drawing him back in, as if now they have finally started, neither of them knows how to stop.
Then Buckyโs hand drops between them. His palm settles over Steveโs straining cock, and Steve groans into the kiss.ย Bucky rubs him slowly through the fabric, swallowing each low moan Steve gives him while Steve keeps one hand firm at the back of his neck. They look made for this, rough hands and parted mouths, years of devotion finding a new language right in front of you, and the thought leaves you aching all over again.
Your thighs shift restlessly beneath them. One hand slips between your legs, fingers finding your swollen clit while you watch Bucky palm Steveโs cock through his trousers. A moan escapes before you can smother it.
Their kiss breaks, both men looking down at you, though their foreheads remain pressed together.ย Buckyโs mouth is red and wet, Steveโs no better, and neither of them moves for a moment as they watch your fingers circle desperately between your thighs.
โWell, look at her,โ Bucky murmurs, his hand still cupped around Steve. โGot herself all worked up watching us.โ
You whine softly, pressing harder against your clit.
Steveโs eyes darken. โPoor pretty thing.โ
Bucky gives Steveโs cock another slow squeeze, making his jaw tighten. โReckon we ought to find that mouth something to do besides whine.โ
He shifts farther onto the bed and settles on his knees near the headboard, giving you room to turn beneath him. You move eagerly onto your hands and knees, facing Steve with Bucky still kneeling behind you, close enough that his thighs frame yours and his chest brushes your back when he leans over.
Bucky reaches around you before you can, fingers working open Steveโs trousers slowly at first, then surer when Steve does nothing to stop him.ย His hand closes around Steveโs cock as it spills free, heavy against his palm, the skin flushed deep at the head and drawn tight over the thick ridge beneath it. The vein you know so well runs dark along the underside, disappearing into Buckyโs fist when he gives one cautious stroke.
Steveโs head tips back on a broken groan.
The sound seems to delight Bucky, eyes dropping to watch his hand move again, slower this time, thumb dragging over the wet slit before sliding back down the length of him. Steveโs broad chest rises sharply beneath his shirt, every muscle in his shoulders pulled tight with the effort of holding still while Bucky learns how easily he can make him come apart.
Something needy catches inside you at the sight. Youโve heard that sound beneath your own hands too many times to let Bucky keep it all to himself.
You lean forward and press your lips to the swollen head, kissing it once before your tongue slips out to taste the slick Bucky has spread there. Steveโs breath breaks again, rougher now, and you follow the thick vein beneath his cock with a slow drag of your tongue, smiling when his hips twitch toward your mouth.
You kiss the tip again, softer this time, letting your lips linger around the crown.ย Steveโs hand braced against the headboard curls hard enough that the wood gives a quiet complaint beneath his grip.
Behind you, Bucky makes a low sound of disapproval.
โNow that ainโt kind,โ he murmurs, gathering your hair away from your face with one hand. โStevieโs been real good, lettinโ me have my fill of you, and here you are making him suffer for it.โ
Steve tries to laugh, but it comes out rough and unsteady when you trace the underside of his cock with the tip of your tongue, following that thick vein until his hips jerk helplessly toward you again.ย Buckyโs fingers tighten in your hair.
โThink you oughta thank him proper.โ
The push is slow but firm, guiding you down Steveโs length before you can tease him again. Your lips stretch around him as inch after inch slides over your tongue, Bucky holding your hair clear while he eases you forward until the swollen tip presses into your throat. You gag softly around him, eyes watering as your hands catch at Steveโs thighs, and the sound Steve makes is loud enough to fill the room.
His forehead drops against Buckyโs.
โFuck,โ he groans straight into Buckyโs mouth, breath breaking between them while your throat works helplessly around his cock. โSweet girl, always so damn good to me.โ
The praise goes straight through you. You moan around him, and Steve curses as the vibration rolls over his cock.
Buckyโs grip settles more firmly in your hair, guiding you back until Steveโs cock slips from your throat and then forward again in one slow, measured stroke. He controls the pace with an ease that makes your stomach tighten, keeping you steady while your lips drag over every inch of Steve. Each pass pulls another sound from Steve, his restraint coming apart piece by piece as the two of you work together to ruin him.
Bucky watches it happen with open satisfaction. His fingers tighten whenever Steveโs hips twitch, holding you in place long enough to make him feel the wet heat of your mouth before easing you back again.ย When your throat tightens around him and pulls another helpless groan from his chest, Bucky closes the distance and kisses him, swallowing every broken breath you pull from Steve as you bob on his cock.
ย Then Steve seems to decide heโs had enough of Bucky being the only one left with any composure.ย His hand drops between you, fumbling once at Buckyโs trousers before dragging them open. Buckyโs breath breaks into the kiss when Steve wraps a fist around his cock, giving him an experimental stroke.
โStevie,โ Bucky groans against his lips.
Steveโs mouth curves against his. He pumps him again, firmer this time, and the sound Bucky makes rolls straight through you. It leaves you suddenly, painfully aware of the hard weight of him behind you, of how close his cock is to the slick heat between your thighs while his hand remains tangled in your hair.
Your knees edge farther apart without thought.
The movement opens you beneath him, your hips rocking back in a needy little invitation even as your mouth continues working over Steve. Bucky feels it immediately. His free hand slides down your spine and cups your ass, spreading you wider as his thumb traces through the slick already coating your inner thighs.
โGoddamn,ย sugar, look at you,โ he breathes , looking down at the wet heat waiting behind you. โSpread wide and drippinโ all over yourself for my cock.โ
Steve follows his gaze.
His fist slows around Buckyโs cock, drawing the swollen head through the mess between your thighs. You whimper around Steve as Buckyโs cock slides over your clit and nudges against your entrance.
Bucky presses forward slowly, teasing you with every inch of his cock.ย He isnโt as thick as Steve, but he is longer, the stretch different enough to wrench a muffled cry from you around the cock already filling your mouth. Your pussy opens greedily for him, slick walls fluttering as he sinks deeper until the head of him kisses your cervix and leaves you shuddering between them.
โFuck me, Steve,โ Bucky groans, driving in until his hips meet your ass. โYou been fillinโ this pussy every chance you get and sheโs still tight enough to choke my cock.โ
Steveโs cock pulses over your tongue at the words. You barely have enough strength left to hold yourself upright, arms trembling beneath you while Bucky draws back and fills you again, each long stroke knocking the breath from your lungs. Steveโs hips begin to move with him, pushing into your mouth as Bucky fucks into your pussy, and soon there is no rhythm left for you to keep, only the one they make between them.
You let them have you.
Steveโs hands settle on either side of your face, keeping you steady as his cock slips wetly over your tongue. Saliva gathers at the corners of your mouth and spills down your chin. Every thrust from behind rocks you farther onto Steve, leaving you whining and gagging softly around him while Buckyโs cock reaches so deep your legs threaten to give beneath you.
โLook at her, Buck,โ Steve rumbles, watching your lips stretch around him.ย โCanโt decide which cock she wants more, so sheโs takinโ both like the greedy little thing she is.โ
Bucky groans and drives in deeper, his hips pressing flush to your ass, causing your mouth to jolt forward around Steve.ย โShe loves it, Stevie. Can feel her squeezinโ me every time you push down her throat.โ
Your walls clench hard around Bucky at the filth in their words, milking his cock as another broken moan vibrates around Steveโs.ย
โThink she likes hearing us talk about her.โ
Steveโs gaze drops to you again, dark with affection and something far less gentle.
โCourse she does,โ he murmurs, thumb brushing through the spit shining on your chin. โOur filthy girl likes knowing sheโs got both her outlaws pleased.โ
Buckyโs thrusts begin to turn rougher behind you, each one driving you further onto Steveโs cock whilst Steve keeps one hand cradled against your jaw, thumb catching the drool that slips from the corner of your mouth.ย They feel your orgasm building, your pussy gripping Bucky and your moans breaking around Steve, and they chase it without mercy.
โThatโs it, sweetheart,โ Steve groans, eyes fixed on yours. โCome for us. Let Buck feel what that greedy pussy does when she gets everything she wants.โ
Buckyโs hand tightens in your hair as his hips snap into you again. โGo on, sugar. Come all over my cock while you choke on his. Show us how good we make you feel.โ
Itโs the words that push you over. Pleasure tears through you so hard your arms nearly buckle beneath it. You come with both of them filling you, Steve thick over your tongue and Bucky buried deep enough to empty every though from your head. Itโs both too much and exactly what you need - the two of them wrapped around you, with the truth of what they are to each other finally laid out between you.
Your walls clamp down around Bucky in frantic, pulsing waves.ย โThatโs it darlinโ,โ Bucky growls as your pussy milks him, hips stuttering against your ass. โKeep choking me like that and Iโm gonna paint this pretty back with my come.โ
He pulls out just in time. His fist closes around his cock, stroking fast as the first hot spill lands across your lower back, followed by another thick stripe over your ass. Bucky groans your name as he empties himself over you, watching his seed streak your skin while your body still trembles beneath him.
Steve stares at the mess his best friend has made of you, and his cock jerks at the sight of you marked by Buckyโs cum. Itโs enough to break him, spilling downย your throat with a broken groan, hand tightening against your jaw as pulse after pulse fills your mouth. You swallow greedily around him, taking every drop while Buckyโs palm smooths over your hip.
โSuch a sweet little thing,โ Bucky murmurs behind you, still breathless. โThink your girl likes being shared, Steve.โ
Steveโs thumb strokes tenderly over your cheek as you swallow the last of him, eyes glassy and looking up at him with such devoted affection it pulls his heart.
โOur girl.โ
The next morning, you stir to Steve trying to leave the bed without disturbing you.ย He almost manages it. But the mattress shifts beneath his weight, and the warmth pressed against your front begins to disappear before you make a soft, petulant sound and reach for him beneath the covers. Steve catches your searching hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before leaning down to brush another against your forehead.
โGo back to sleep, sweetheart.โ
You answer by tightening your fingers around his wrist, unwilling to surrender the place you have spent the night tucked between your two outlaws. Steveโs mouth softens, but Bucky solves the problem without properly waking. He makes a rough, sleepy noise behind you and pulls you firmly into his chest, one arm cinching around your waist until your back is fitted to him and there is no room left to complain about being abandoned.
โThere,โ Bucky mumbles into your hair. โQuit fussinโ.โ
You melt into him happily enough, eyes drifting shut again while Steve dresses nearby. Buckโs body is warm and heavy behind yours, his breath slow against your neck, and for a few precious moments the room feels safe enough to forget where you are.ย
But then Steveโs curse cuts through the quiet.
โBuck.โ
Bucky doesnโt move immediately. โMm?โ
โGet up.โ
The tension in Steveโs voice does what the words alone canโt. Buckyโs arm disappears from around your waist as he pushes upright, sleep falling away from him in an instant. You sit up with the blanket clutched to your chest and find Steve beside the window, peering through the narrow gap he has made in the curtain. His gun belt is already fastened. One revolver rests in his hand while he checks the chamber of the other.
โWhat is it?โ Bucky asks, reaching for his trousers.
Steve lets the curtain fall back into place. โWeโve got company.โ
Bucky crosses the room barefoot, keeping himself close to the wall as he looks out. His expression hardens. โHow many?โ
โToo many.โ
Your heart begins to pound. You drag the sheet around yourself and slip from the bed, though Steve catches sight of you moving and immediately shakes his head.
โStay back from the window.โ
โWhatโs happening?โ
Neither answers quickly enough.
You look from one man to the other, watching the quick efficiency with which they arm themselves. Bucky pulls on his shirt without bothering to button it before buckling his holster. Steve gathers the ammunition from the table and divides it between them, his movements calm in a way that frightens you more than panic would have.
โSteve,โ you push, and when Steve glances back at you, the desperation on your face is enough to make him stop pretending.
โStreetโs surrounded,โ he finally admits. โSheriffโs got men covering the front, both ends of the alley and the stable yard. More on the roofs across from us.โ
The words make you freeze. โHow did they find us?โ
Steve looks toward the door, jaw working once. โMaybe the clerk didnโt buy our performance after all.โ
Bucky looks through the curtain again, studying the street below. โBack window?โ
โTwo men in the alley, three more watching the yard. Weโd need to draw them round the front first.โ
They continue to move through possibilities quickly, cutting each one down almost as soon as itโs spoken. There are too many men. Thatโs the truth beneath every low exchange, though neither of them says it aloud. Bucky begins loading his rifle. Steve watches him for a moment, then glances toward you. The look passing between them is brief, but you understand it anyway.
โNo.โ
Steveโs face closes. โSweetheartโโ
โNo.โ
Bucky sets the rifle down. โSugar, listen.โ
โI know that look.โ Your voice shakes despite every effort to steady it. โYouโre working out how to get me clear.โ
Steve crosses to you, hands finding your cheeks and tilting your face to his. โBuck and I will draw them towards the front, and once theyโre focused on us, you slip through the yard and take the first horse you can reach.โ
Your eyes burn as you look between them. โAnd what chance does it give you?โ
Neither man answers.
Months ago, when they let you ride away with them, you told them there was only one part of their life you wouldnโt share. You would endure the cold, the hunger, the long days in the saddle and every bullet sent chasing after them, but you wouldnโt stand by and watch either man die. Now they mean to hold you to it.
Bucky comes to stand beside you, one hand settling at the back of your neck. His thumb moves once over your skin, the touch unbearably gentle from a man preparing to walk into gunfire.
โYou take the horse south,โ he says. โDonโt stop in the next town. Just keep goinโ โtill you canโt.โ
You search their faces for another answer and find none. Theyโre terrified - you know them well enough now to see it. But theyโre simply more frightened for you than they are for themselves. So you nod.ย
Steveโs hands linger against your cheeks for another second before he releases you, and Buckyโs thumb brushes the back of your neck once more before both men turn away, returning to plan as they let you dress.ย
Your fingers feel clumsy fastening your stays, though you force them through each familiar movement, pulling on yesterdayโs dress and tying your hair back with shaking hands.ย Bucky crouches beside the bed and spreads their remaining cartridges across the floorboards,ย counting beneath his breath until a thought makes him pause with one round still caught between his fingers.
โWait a minute - you didnโt see Rumlow out there, did you?โ
Steve glances over from the rifle. โRumlow? No. Why?โ
โThank God for that.โ Bucky exhales and drops the cartridge onto the pile. โFor a minute there, I thought we were in trouble.โ
Steveโs expression flattens while a startled laugh escapes you despite everything, and the crooked grin Bucky sends your way suggests that was precisely what heโd been aiming for.
Steve returns to checking the rifle with a quiet shake of his head. โIdiot.โ
Buckyโs smirk lingers only a moment before the boys begin getting ready in earnest.ย
Steve fastens the last of the ammunition at his belt and checks both revolvers one final time, while Bucky gathers the remaining cartridges into his pockets and slings the rifle over his shoulder. You stand beside the bed with your coat half-buttoned and look between them, both armed now, both trying to pretend as though this is merely another bad plan they will laugh about by nightfall.
Itโs Steve who comes to you first.ย He cups the back of your neck and kisses you hard, all the tenderness in him sharpened by the knowledge that he cannot afford to linger. You clutch at his shirt anyway, trying to hold him there, but he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours.
โPromise me youโll run,โ Steve begs against your lips.
Before you can respond, Bucky adds โAnd donโt look back.โ
You turn toward him, already crying despite the effort youโve made not to. Buckyโs expression softens. He reaches up and wipes beneath one of your eyes with his thumb before drawing you against him and kissing you with none of his usual teasing left in it.
โYou promise us, sugar,โ he murmurs against your mouth. โYou hear the gunfire, you run.โ
Your bottom lip trembles, tears spilling freely, but you manage to keep you voice steady enough to reply โI promise.โ
They lead you to the back window and ease it open just enough for you to slip through when the time comes, before heading back to the front door.
โSheriffโs moved two more men toward the front,โ he observes, peering through the narrow gap in the curtains. โLooks like theyโre expecting us to make a grand entrance.โ
Steve cocks his gun. โWell, Iโd hate to disappoint.โ
Bucky turns from the window with a faint smile, and just for a minute, the years between them seem to gather there in the quiet.ย They stand beside the door with their weapons ready, drawing one steadying breath before looking at each other.
โTill the end of the line,โ Steve says.
Buckyโs answer comes without hesitation.ย โAlways.โ
Then they burst through the front door.
Gunfire erupts immediately, deafening in the close quarters, answered by the heavy crack of Steveโs revolver and the sharper report of Buckyโs rifle as they force the fight toward the front of the hotel. Every instinct in you screams to turn, to look, to run after them instead of away, but you cling to the promise you made and climb through the rear window once the coast is clear.
Then you run. Across the yard, past the stable wall and toward the first horse you can reach, every step carrying you farther from the two men you love. The law may have their names and faced printed on posters, may call them thieves and bad men, but you know better now.
Wanted men they may be, but theyโre the best men you have ever known.
more mads: sooooo, i am so so sorry for how late i am for posting this. half of this was written in a sleep deprived, frantic haze so apologies if any of it gets confusing at any point, especially the ending. i had a different plan for it at first, but then i want to stay more loyal to the film, and i also needed to just get this fic done considering how late i already was to posting it. so this is what i landed on and i'm worried it hasn't quite worked :/ idk, this could be the sleep deprivation talking but i just started to hate this fic as i got closer to the end. hopefully you guys still enjoyed - if you did, please hit like or, even better, please consider leaving a comment/reblog bc it would genuinely make my whole day. my leo moon means i will literally perish without external validation. iโm tinkerbell coded. love u <33
เผ*ยทหย main materlistย |ย peteโs placeโs opening nightย |ย the playlistย เผ*ยทห
โโทย ย previous chapter
โง.* เณโโทย pairings: ari levinson x female!reader
โง.* เณโโทย & future pairings:
jake jensen x female!reader
steve rogers x female reader
curtis everett x female!reader.
pete brenner x female!reader
lloyd hansen x female!reader.
(and others that will be revealed at a later date.)
word count: 17,875. | series rating: explicit.ย เผ*ยทห
warnings:ย kidnapping, captivity, fingering, coercion, dub-con, rough sex, choking (if you squint, but not really), ari being mean, edging.
please let me know if i missed any, i am tired and i think iโve listed everything.
this is a dark au. minors are not welcome here.
notes: holy. fucking. shit. here you go. the Ari chapter. it's the start, it's happening. he's here and he's mean but we love him anyway. pls pls pls let me know what you think. ik my smut isn't the best (still rusty) but have nearly 18k worth of smut anyway. mwah, mwah, mwah. i love u all.
also, as always, all mistakes are my own, the spacing is kinda wonky but i cba to spend lots of time fixing it, i'm sorry
tags: @fandom-meet-fanthem @epiphanyrogers
โWell, I already told you Iโm not sleeping with you again,โ You said, firm and final as you clutched the sheets against your chest.
Ari let out a huff and a small nod before standing straight.
โFine,โ He replied simply, no bite or malice, a full 180-degree shift to the man who moments before looked ready to lunge across the mattress. โEnjoy the extra day here, Sugar.โ
โIโll earn them off eventually.โ You surrendered; a few extra days were better than giving him what he wanted.
โAri left without another word, leaving you alone in the gilded cage, soft sheets beckoning you into a false sense of security. You allowed yourself to fall into a restless sleep, spending the night tossing and turning till the delicate warm rays scattered on the wooden floor and touched your face. You had a few moments to groggily pull yourself up when the door swung open. Ariโs boots hit the carpet with a series of dull thuds, a tray of food in hand, and without a word, dropped it at your nightstand; coffee dripping down the sides of the mug and bits of egg falling off the side of the plate and left.
You stared after the shut door, pausing for a moment before picking up the mug from the nightstand and sipping on the warm coffee, and picking through your breakfast, leaving most of it on the plate. Your stomach still wasnโt playing ball on the appetite front. You eventually peeled yourself out of bed, freshened up, and found yourself standing in the center of the room, staring out the windows.
You wasted the day by picking through the bookshelf, meticulously analyzing each of the various dusty hardbacks and placing a few on your nightstand for later. You took a shower, popped open different bottles and smelled the expensive scents, and bundled yourself up afterward in a soft, fluffy robe before taking advantage of the walk-in wardrobe.
The men clearly had a particular taste.
Lacy, intricate dresses that would leave nothing to the imagination. Strappy kitten heels in different colors, various racks of lingerie, and, tucked away in the back, sets of matching loungewear, which made you sigh with relief. You were just sat on the edge of your bed, snapping the band of the sock around your ankle when Ari walked in, eyes glaring down at you with a tray in his hand.
โChange your mind?โ Ari asked.
โNope,โ you responded, popping the โpโ and getting up to take a few paces backward to emphasize your decision by putting as much space as you could between you both.
Ari huffed, swapped out the trays, and left without saying anything else. He returned a few hours later, when the sun was dipping low, sending amber shadows along the cream carpet and scattering across the walls. He was carrying two plates and made his way to the small table you had shared with Steve, watching as he took up Steveโs space, the chair creaking under his weight. Your stomach growled; the lunch he had left you earlier was untouched, and the savory smell beckoned you over.
You shuffled off the bed, snapping the book shut and swiftly made your way over to snag a plate, but Ariโs large hand wrapped around your wrist.
โSit.โ
โWhy arenโt you eating with the others?โ You asked, unmoved and refusing to give in without an explanation.
โMy cousins are here, and they have a habit of getting on my nerves,โ Ari offered, giving your arm a little tug and kicking out the chair.
โThereโs more of you?โ
โPlenty. Sit. Eat.โ
โI will. When you leave.โ
You tugged your arm away and sat yourself down, crossing your arms over your chest and looking out of the window, praying that he got the message and would leave.
His voice was a cold, stark warning. โYouโre playing a dangerous game, Sugar. Iโm not gonna keep having the same conversation with you.โ
โI really don't give a fuck what you think.โ
The air in the room didnโt just drop; it vanished, and to see a man such as Ari, one who moved through the world as a force of nature, towering over everyone he came into contact with, visibly recoiling was, to put it simply, a fucking sight to see indeed. He didnโt move physically, however, but his expression flickeredโ a momentary crack in the mask of the unbothered eldest brotherโ and his shoulders tensed up as he let his fork clatter onto the plate.
The silence became so absolute that the muffled tick of the clock in the hallway rang out like a hammer hitting an anvil.
โYou seem to have confused my patience for weakness, baby.โ Ari tilted his head slightly, eyes focusing on yours. His voice had dropped to a register so low it was almost a vibration, a touch of irritation lacing the tone.
โAnd you seem to have confused my engagement in this conversation as actually caring about what a liar had to say,โ You shot back. โAnd I am not your baby.โ
The word liar seemed to hit Ari like a physical blow, a sharp, thickening tension blooming between you, shifting the room from tense to something far more volatile. Ari still didnโt flinch; he didnโt yell, but the longer he stared silently, the more it felt like walls closing in. Ari abruptly stood, the chair knocking backward. He moved towards the window, his back to you and hands stuffed in his pockets. His massive frame eclipsed the fading sunlight streaming through the window, casting a long, dark shadow that completely swallowed you.
โA liar.โ His voice was a whisper, but it carried the weight of a landslide.
โYep,โ You confirmed, nodding to yourself.
The word hung in the air, stark and naked; to you it was defiance, to Ari it may as well have been a death wish.
His movements were slow and deliberate, turning slowly from the window and walking over to you with heavy footsteps. You glared up at him, standing your ground, although a ball of anxiety formed in your throat that you were forced to swallow down as he stepped into your space. He leaned down and didnโt stop until his face was level with yours, and up close, the coldness in his eyes was absolute; a deep void under the mask of blue that threatened to pull you under. He didnโt touch you, but he didnโt need to; the sheer proximity of himโ the smell of cedar and stale smoke, the heat radiating from the blood boiling under his skinโ felt like something close to a physical assault.
โYou think you have the moral high ground because I played a part? You think your indignation protects you here?โ
Suddenly, his hand shot out. His fingers clamped around the back of your chair, the wood groaning under the sudden, immense pressure of his grip. He jerked the chair an inch closer to him, a sharp, jarring motion that forced you to lean closer to him.
โNo,โ You answered honestly. โI think youโre just a liar. And the way youโre reacting just goes to show that you know that you are.โ
Ariโs fingers tightened impossibly on the wood, a small crack ringing out from the pressure of his hand, and for a second, the mask he had tried to keep glued in place shattered. A vein pulsed in his temple, his eyes elated with a raw, jagged heat. The man who was supposed to be a meticulously constructed pillar of his dysfunctional family had his foundation slapped away by a few words, and you could see it clear as dayโฆ He hated it.
โYou think youโre the first to call me a liar? You think a little โinsightโ makes you special, Sugar?โ Ari snarled lowly, his face inches from you.
With a sudden, violent motion, Ari didnโt just pull the chair; he knocked it from under you, catching your arm in a bruising grip and hauling you upwards with a single, effortless surge of strength, listing you almost off your feet and snug against his chest. Your eyes burned their way up to his face.
โWhat? Your wife called you a liar too?โ
The silence that followed wasn't just a pause.ย The air seemed to freeze, turning into shards of ice that pierced everything.
โYou wonโt know what the fuck youโre talking about,โ Ari defended poorly, his voice a flat, dead whisper; totally devoid of any human inflection. You found the cord and planned to strike it as often as you could. โSo, I suggestโโ
โHad a whole wife and you still chose to fuck around with captive women. What a remarkable man you are, Ari. Truly. Out of everything thatโs happened to me over these past few monthsโฆ Fucking you was my biggest regret.โ
The words didnโt just land; they detonated, and the room seemed to vibrate with the force of the insult.
You knew that to a man like Ari, a man who seemingly lived and breathed control, the admission that he was not only a liar but a regret was a level of degradation heโd probably never experienced. The thought of knocking him down flooded your veins with adrenaline, a racking shake through your body. But, unbeknownst to you, it wasnโt the insult to his characterโ he knew he was a monster; he was fine with itโ it was the dismissal of the intimacy you had shared; however fake it had been. It was his to dismiss, his to downplayโ not yours.
His face became a canvas of terrifying, blank neutrality as the grip on your arm tightened, stealing a hiss through your teeth as his nails pricked at your skin. He didnโt just hold you there; he owned you there. A stark reminder that in his hands, you could be nothing more than a doll.
โIโm not scared of you,โ You declared despite the slight waver in your voice screaming otherwise.
Ari didn't respond with words, but the air seemed to rush out of the room as he used his other hand to clamp his fingers around your chin with an aching force, his broad shoulders casting a suffocating shadow over you. He tipped your head up, tilting it back into a sharp, vulnerable angle, his fingers moving to squeeze into the soft flesh of your cheeks. Your eyes were locked on each other's; his gaze had morphed into something else, something burning, a mixture of pure hatred and that familiar glint of raw, uncontrollable hunger.
He looked at you the same way he had in the club; like he wanted to tear you apart and possess every shattered piece of you all at once.
For a long, agonizing momentโฆ Neither of you moved. Both of you are refusing to be the first to give in; to shout, to scream, to insult.
You stood locked in a stalemate of heavy breaths and searing heat; the only sound in the room was the ragged, weighted synchronization of your breathing. The air between you and Ari was thick, electric, desperate for a spark; the residue of the war you had been waging with poisoned tongues and quick wit. Ariโs gaze dropped first, landing on your lips, eyeing the way they trembled with each breath. You waited, and waited; for something, anything when finallyโฆ
The tension snapped.
Ari didnโt just lean in; he collided.
He crashed his lips against yours in a kiss that was less about passion and more about a conquest; a point to prove. It was violent and punishing; desperate with a physical manifestation of the fury he couldnโt voice, the want he couldnโt admit. He didnโt ask; he took, his mouth claiming yours with a bruising intensity that even in your weeks together you hadnโt experienced. He tasted like a dark, simmering rage, and you were helpless to fight. He used his weight to push you back until your back hit the edge of the table, the wood digging into your lower back, the plates rattling behind you.
He broke the kiss only to snarl almost breathlessly against your lips; jagged and rough. โโSay it again. Tell me youโre not scared while youโre shaking in my arms, Sugar. Donโt want me yet youโre kissing me back, hmm? We can play present, baby, thatโs fineโโ
โYouโre not giving me much choice,โ You grumbled at him.
Your hands pushed against the hard planes of his chest, scoffing while your face twisted up and your fingers dug into the expensive fabric of his shirt in a desperate attempt to create space. You pushed with every ounce of strength you possessed, but moving a mountain might have been an easier feat. Ari didnโt even budge- not even a little bit. He simply absorbed the impact of your struggle with a smirk on his lips.
โโPush harder, Sugar," he goaded, letting out a dark chuckle that vibrated through your hands and rattled your bones.
Instead of letting you go, Ari reacted to your resistance by intensifying his hold. He shifted his weight, his massive thigh sliding between yours, pinning you firmly against the table and cutting off any hope of maneuvering out of his hold. His hand migrated from your jaw and slid down your throat, resting there with a possessive pressure that made your head spin and served as a reminder of how easy it would be for him to extinguish your breath as he dipped his head down, lips close to your ear.
โโI love it when you fight me, Sugar. Itโll make the moment you finally stop so much sweeter,โโ he whispered against your ear.
He leaned back just enough to look you in the eyes; his pupils were blown wide, nearly swallowing the iris; the blues that had suckered you in were nowhere to be found. He looked completely unhinged; the polished facade of the right hand was entirely stripped away, leaving behind the monster, unashamed and untethered. Everything about him in that moment filled your senses and clouded your mind; his hair wild from the struggle, the tobacco and expensive cologne making your head swim, his breath hot on your neck.
โโYou think youโre so brave because you have nothing left to lose, but youโre wrong. You still have your pride, that stupid fuckinโ mouth. Iโm really gonna enjoy taking those from youโฆ Piece by piece, he continued to whisper in your ear, low and dangerous.
โโAnd then pass me along to your brothers?โโ You taunted. โโPlaying with something you canโt even keep. Youโre pathetic.โโ
The words cut through the air, cutting deeper than any physical threats Ari had issued. You could tell by the way his hand tightened around your throat that it was a lethal blow, reminding him that he was nothing more than a man who couldnโt claim his own prize, letting him know he was nothing but a mere placeholder. His reaction was almost instantaneous. The low, controlled heat of his anger flared into a white-hot blaze. He didnโt pull away, but instead pushed you back flat onto the table with such a sudden, violent force that your head thumped against the wood, groaning under the impact and sending a vibration rattling through your spine.
โโYou think I canโt keep you?โโ Ari asked in a hushed, rough tone, his face inches from yours. His grip on your throat tightened more, enough to pin your head firmly against the table; his other hand flew to your waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh with a grip that was bound to leave bruises. The cold, detached professional was truly long gone; instead, he was possessed by a primal need to dominate and silence the one person who had managed to see through his armor, and it terrified you. His eyes flashed with an unstable light.
โโI donโt pass things along, Sugar. I decide who gets what and whenโโโ Ari leaned in closer, teeth grazing the shell of your ear, his breath ragged and full of fire. The sheer physical disparity between you both was overwhelming to say the least; you were a delicate flower trapped under a landslide. With each word, he sounded like less of a man and more like a predator ready to claim a kill as his voice dropped to a menacing, vibrating hum. โโMaybe Iโll decide youโre too precious for the others. Maybe Iโll decide that the only way to scrub that fuckinโ arrogance out of your mouth is to keep you locked in this room, on your knees, until you forget to speak anything but my name.โโ
He leaned back just enough to look you in the eye, his expression a terrifying mixture of hatred and an obsession he couldnโt quite mask. You let out a shaky breath through your nose, willing your bones to stop trembling, and the sly smirk on his lips told you he had wound up with exactly what he wanted. He wanted you to fear him, but more than that, he was desperate for you to acknowledge that he was the only thing in this world that mattered right now.
โCalling me pathetic? Wellโฆโ He trailed off, leaning closer, your noses almost touching, his voice dropping to a whisper. โLetโs see how โpatheticโ this feels, Sugar.โ
Without any further warning, he dipped his head and crashed his mouth back over yours. It was a sordid collision of teeth and tongue, and you felt powerless to fight. It was a raw, hungry attempt to devour your defiance. He kissed you as if he were trying to drink down your pleas, take in your breath as his own; his hand on your throat guided your moments, forcing you to stay, enduring the onslaught of his fury.
The groan that bubbled in his throat caused you to writhe underneath him, your nails found his forearms, nails scraping against his skin, blooming red, frantic, desperate lines; a feeble attempt to get away, but it only served to heighten the friction. Every move you made only got you more and more trapped under the heat of his chest and the cool, unforgiving wood of the table.
โFight me, come on, Sugar. Know you can do better than that,โ Ari taunted against your lips.
He didnโt flinch at the scratches. If anything, the sharp sting seemed to act as a catalyst, stoking the fire already raging in him. You shuddered when he rocked against you, feeling how he loved the resistance; he was clearly a man who enjoyed having something to crush. He shifted his grip, hand sliding from your throat to the back of your head, his fingers curling ruthlessly in your hair. With a sharp, sudden tug, he yanked your head back, forcing you to expose your throat to him and breaking the kiss with a lewd, visceral wet sound.
โYouโre so desperate to get away, yet here you still are. Still breathing me in, still feeling exactly what I do to you, and I knowโฆโ His voice was a breathless rasp, his eyes gleaming with something dark. โYou fucking love it.โ
He didnโt let you recover. Didnโt give you a moment to breathe. To sit with the impending doom. Instead, he began to trail kisses across your jawline, lips bruising and demanding, moving to the sensitive skin of your neck. Each press of his lips was akin to a brand, a claim of ownership that threatened to ignore the schedule, ignore the rules, and ignore the other men in the manor. You bit back a whimper, hating how a mix of disgust and want soared through your veins, trapped under him as he was operating on pure, unfiltered impulse now; driven by a burning need to silence her tongue and break your spirit.
His teeth grazed your shoulder, his voice heavy and breathy. โTell me again how pathetic I am, Sugar. Tell me while youโre shaking, tell me while youโre pretending to not want me. Youโve always wanted me, Sugar.โ
You tried to push against him, fighting to keep him from pushing his weight further against you, his thigh pressed firmly against your core, and you begged your body not to respond, and when you felt the all-familiar ache, you had no choice but to act. You waited until he looked up at you, making his way over to your other shoulder as you gathered spit in your mouth and launched it directly at his faceโ.
The room went silent.
The wet, sharp sound of the spit hitting Ariโs cheek echoed in the space around you. For a moment, the world seemed to stop spinning. Ari had frozen, his head slightly tilted, moisture glistening on his skin in the fading sunlight.
This wasnโt a verbal jab, a clever quip or pointed insult. This was a visceral, primal act of contempt. It was the ultimate reflection of his power, his masculinity, and his status within the manor walls. It was the only way you could think to get him to stop, but now you feared what would happen when he started again. In a home where respect was demanded through fear and blood, this was an act of absolute heresy.
Slowly and deliberately, Ari turned his head, his eyes locking onto yours. His expression was no longer one of hunger or rage. It was something far more horrifying. His features had gone completely slack, his eyes turning into two cold, dead stones. The fire had been snuffed out, replaced by a glacial, murderous calm. He didnโt move to wipe his face, didnโt flinch or reel back. He simply stared, the silence stretching out until it felt like a physical weight crushing the oxygen from the room and leaving you breathless.
โYou really donโt know when to stop, do you?โ Ari asked, his voice a flat, timeless whisper, devoid of everything human.
With a sudden, blurring movement, Ari seized both of your wrists, pinning them in a single, massive grip and slamming them up above your head with a force that made your shoulders feel like they were going to pop. He leaned in, his chest against yours.
โI was going to be softer. I was going to give you the luxury of a slow break, but youโฆ You just canโt help yourself. So, what choice do you give me?โ Ariโs gaze shifted around your face, a dark, twisted smirk finally touching his lips. It wasnโt a smile of pleasure; it was the smile of a man who had finally been given a good enough reason to be cruel. โI wonder if Lloyd will consider this as โextenuating circumstances.โ I wonder if heโll let me keep you for the rest of the week, just to see how many times you can spit before you start begging for me to touch you.โ
โSo much for being the one who makes the decisions,โ You huffed. Ari was right. You didnโt know when to stop, and you hoped that if you defied him enough, he would get bored and move on. โGotta run to Lloyd to see if you can keep playing with the new toy. No wonder your wife upped and ran. I would leave you too.โ
The mention of his wife again, coupled with the accusation that he was nothing more than a puppet to Lloydโs whims, seemed to hit Ari like a physical strike to the gut. The calm he had so easily possessed vanished, his face twisting up as he took in a sharp exhale of breath. The transition was a violent oneโ switching from the predator playing with his food to a man stripped of every shred of restraint.
You jumped in your skin as his fist hit the table, so close that you could feel the wind from the impact.
โShut the fuck up,โ Ari warned, finger pointed towards your face, eyes glaring down at you, his voice laced with something twisted. โYou think youโre so fucking clever. You think youโve found the one thing that can break meโฆโ
The grip of your wrists tightened, threatening to shatter the bones. He looked completely possessed, pupils expanded until no light reflected. His breathing came out in sharp, jagged heaves. Suddenly, he pulled you up right, manhandling you until you were pinned to the floor. He gripped your hips with a bruising intensity as his voice dropped, leaning down to graze his lips against yours as he spoke.
โI donโt need Lloydโs permission to break a toy thatโs already malfunctioning.โ
The coldness was finding its way back, but it was different now. It was a focused cruelty. He wasnโt just reacting now; he was deciding. He looked at youโ really looked at youโ maybe not as a woman, but as an asset; as something that needed to be silent and subdued until there was nothing left.
โYou want to talk about why she left? Maybe I'll let you figure it out while you're screaming my name. Maybe I'll show you exactly why no one survives this family with their pride intact.โ
โCareful now, Ari. Iโm starting to think youโre all talk,โ You challenged. Your mind was split in two. One side hoped he would still leave; the other wanted him to stay, and you were unsure which to listen to. โStarting to think you can only get up on someone elseโs say-so. Do it. Do your worst.โ
The challenge hung in the air, acting like a spark in a room flooded with gasoline.
For Ari, the invitation was the final piece of the puzzle. He had tried control, he had tried the professional distance, he had tried pure, raw furyโ but you; you offered him the one thing that he desperately craved in that moment: a reason to stop holding backโ.
Permission.
For you, it was curiosity, wondering how far he would go; it was the other side that clung to the fantasy, the one where you moved away, where he followedโ white picket fences, sunset strolls, and happiness. Despite everything, you had grown attached to the man who had betrayed you in the worst way, and if this was a way to pay up and get out, at least it was with him.
โYou have no idea what my worst looks like, Sugar. You have no idea what youโve just asked me for,โ Ari purred into your ear, a sick grin on his lips.
โ
He looked at you with an expression so vacant of any warmth that it made dread bloom in your stomach, mixing with the desire that still sat heavy there. He looked at you as if you were a puzzle he was about to solve by breaking every single piece. Then, suddenly, Ari shifted his grip. He didnโt just hold you; he manipulated your body with an effortless strength until you were face down on the floor, your chest pressed down onto the cream carpet. He gathered your wrists in his hand, pinning them against your back as he nudged and pushed at your legs until your back was arched, ass in the air. His other hand had made slow work, sliding up the back of your thigh.
The thin sweatpants offered no protection under the heavy weight of his hand, his large palm grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh; possessive and demanding. He leaned his massive frame down onto you, your chest crushing down against the hard floor; his breathing hot and heavy against the nape of your neck.
โYou want the monster, Sugar? You want the man who drives women to run?โ He trailed off, his hand shifting higher as he let out a mirthless huff of air that felt like a ghost of a laugh. His fingers hooked the edge of the waistband and began to pull it downward with a slow, drawn-out pace as his voice dropped to a lethal, spoken thread. โโฆI'm going to make you regret every single word that ever came out of that pretty, arrogant mouth. I'm going to make you beg for the "pathetic" man to stop. And then... I'm going to make you beg for him to start again.โ
He didnโt wait for a response. He sank his teeth into the sensitive tendon where your neck met your shoulder, not a bite, but a grinding, punishing pressure that threatened to claim you entirely. As his tongue swept over marks left by his teeth, a gasp bubbled up in your throat, and you arched in a poor attempt to escape the assault on your neck, only to end up with your ass flush against the already demanding bulge in his jeans. The sound of your gasp was the only thing that filled the room; a signal to Ari of the first crack in your armor.
For Ari, that movementโ that instinctive, physical reactionโ was a victory more potent than any verbal submission, which made him let out a low, almost growling laugh against your skin.
โThere it is,โ He boasted with a grin you could feel. โHere we go, Sugar. Weโre really getting started now.โ
You knew he could feel the tremor in your muscles, the way your body betrayed that small voice that wanted nothing to do with what was happening. His hand, still gripping your wrists behind your back, toughened for a second, pulling your shoulders back and forcing your chest further into the carpet, the fibers biting at your skin. You felt completely exposed, vulnerable.
โDonโt get big-headed.โ You tried to save. โYour hands are just rough, and the position is awkward.โ
The defiance, although dwindling rapidly, was still there, clinging to you like a last shred of dignity, although thinner and frayed by the physical reality of his dominance. The way you gritted your teeth and fought through your reaction only served to fuel Ariโs obsession with breaking you. You knew he didnโt want you to be quiet; he wanted to strip away every last excuse you had until there was nothing but the truth of your response to him.
โRough?โ Ari let out a sound that was a half-laugh, half-snarl. He slowly released the grip on your wrist, but before you could even think of moving, his hands found your waist, gripping tightly and pulling you back against him. โI can be as soft as you want, Sugar. I can be the gentleman. I can be the pathetic man who plays by the rulesโฆโ He slid a hand down your spine, slow and agonizing, wanting you to feel every second of the anticipation; the suffocating weight of his presence until the hand found its way to your hair. โBut you didnโt ask for the gentlemanโโ He took a harsh grip, forcing you up against him as you bit back a cry. His voice dropped to that lethal whisper that made butterflies flutter in your stomach. โYou asked for my worst.โ
He gripped your chin and forced your head to the side, looming over you as he made you look back at him over your shoulder. His face was a mask of cold, focused intent; the void in his eyes now filled with a predatory satisfaction. He looked at your swollen lips, now parted and letting out little, quick breaths; the way your eyes were wide and shimmering with tears that threatened to fallโ not from fear or sadnessโ from anticipation and pent-up frustration.
โYouโre not in control here, Sugar. Not your words, your prideโฆ and certainly not your body,โ He stated, and you knew, in that moment, that he was right. The contrast between you was stark; your fragility against his brutality. โNow, tell me again. Tell me how rough and pathetic I am while I make you forget your own name.โ
โJust do it already,โ You provoked, voice a shaky whisper as a shudder made its way down your spine.
The whisper wasnโt a surrender, but an invitation; an invitation to the abyss that Ari was more than happy to plunge them both into. The sound of your voice, broken and breathless, acted like a trigger.
โWith pleasure.โ Ariโs voice was a quiet promise.
Ari made quick work of ridding you of your clothes. Rough fingers slid your shirt up your back and ripped it over your head before working down your sweatpants, the heat of his body shielding you from the room's cool air. He didnโt bother with sliding down your underwear, simply snapping the bands on either side, the sound ringing outโ a symbolic shedding of the last barrier between you and his now unrestrained hunger.
โLook at me, Sugar, back up here,โ Ari instructed, voice laced with need.
He didnโt wait for you to comply; he seized a handful of your hair and forced you back up, tilting your head back until your gaze locked with his. Itโs like he wanted you to see the monster you had summoned. He wanted you to see there was no soft side leftโ only a man who had been pushed too far and now had every intent of reclaiming every ounce of power you had tried to strip away from him.
โYou wanted my worst, Sugar?โ Ari tormented. โThatโs what you asked for, right?โ
With you flush against him again, he tilted your head to the side with a rough grip on your jaw and crashed his mouth back onto yours; a battle of teeth and tongue, desperate and needing. You let a small whimper die in your throat as you struggled to keep up with his pace; the familiar taste of whisky on his tongue pulled at the desire that still lay thick inside you. He kissed you as if he were trying to devour your breath, his tongue invading your mouth with the same possessive aggression that his hands had on your body.
The hand that was in your hair untangled, sliding down and finding its way to the soft of your stomach, before slipping between your thighs and roughly hooking a finger into your center; blunt and demanding. His large fingers stretched and pushed in a way that made you want to fold. He clearly wasnโt looking for a slow build; he wanted a total collapse. He ground his hips into the meat of your ass, his cock finding friction between the layer of fabric and the softness of you; like he wanted you to feel what was to comeโ the man you had called pathetic, the man who had taken you apart over and over again, the man you wanted to do it again.
He broke the kiss just enough to rasp against your lips, โTell meโฆโ His fingers shifted, applying a sharp pressure to your jaw. โTell me who owns you right now.โ
You found his reflection in the window and glared at him through wet eyes, simply stating, โNever.โ
The word was a fragile thing, spoken through a veil of unshed tears and a trembling lip, but it was delivered with the same stubborn pride that had defined every single second of your interaction with the family so far. It was the only thing you had left. Even now, your body pinned like a specimen on a board, your body calling out for the same man that had trapped you in a house of horrors, you refused to give him the one thing that he truly wantedโฆ Submission.
Ari froze.
The pressure of his fingers stilled, and the heavy, rhythmic thud of his heart against your back seemed to stutter. You could feel his stare, feel the burning. He let out a huff of air. He had broken professionals; he had crushed spirits that were supposed to be ten times more resilient than yours. Yet, here you were, refusing to break even as he tore your world apart.
โYou really think this is a game of endurance, donโt you, Sugar?โ Ari probed, voice dropping to a dangerous register. A dark, twisted smile slowly spread across his face. It wasnโt a smile of amusement; it was the look of a man who had just found a more interesting way to play with his toy. โFine. Keep that pride of yours a little longer, baby. It wonโt be long until you lose it.โ
He shifted his weight, letting you fall forward, hands flush against the carpet as he settled back on his legs and forced your legs wider, exposing your cunt up to him. His hand lay heavy on the slope of your back as he used his free hand to threaten a start in dismantling you. He let his finger ghost down between your slit, finger tip sliding with ease due to the slick that had gathered, which elicited a hum of approvalโ of success.
โI don't need you to say it. Your heart is hammering against my chest. Your skin is flushing. You're shaking so hard you can barely breatheโฆโ โThe more you fight, the more Iโm gonna make you feel. Iโm gonna keep pushing โtil youโre so desperate, so utterly undone, that โneverโ becomes the last word you ever say to me.โ
He withdrew his hands, leaving you cold and aching in the sudden void. Behind you, you could hear the shuffling of fabric, the sound of a zipper.
โLook at me, Sugar. Look at what youโve provoked,โ Ari commanded.
You glared back at him, refusing to look where he wanted, teeth gritted and bit out: โStill pathetic.โ
The words were barely a breath, a ghost of a whisper delivered through gritted teeth and shimmering eyes, and above all elseโฆ
A damn lie, and Ari knew it.
The sight of him, long and thick; the glistening head of his cock where his anticipation had gathered. The vein that ran down the underside, which youโd run your tongue and fingers over time and time; the one that made him groan deep in his throat and tilt his head back. The same one that gave you the sight of him that had embedded itself in your brain, the one you lost yourself in over and over in your hotel room until you next saw him.
Ari let out a low, vibrating soundโ a hum that sounded more like a purr, but it carried the weight of a death sentence. He looked at you, and for the first time, the hatred and hunger were eclipsed by a terrifying, absolute clarity.
You were full of shit, and he knew it.
โYouโre so proud of that little tongue, arenโt you, Sugar?โ Ari mused, toying with a grin to match.
With a sudden, unrelenting surge of movement, he drove himself into you with a brutal, uncompromising force that almost knocked the wind clean out of your lungs and made your thighs want to part and welcome him further; welcome him home. Despite the fact that there was no preamble, no tenderness, no gradual slide, it made you clench and ache around him. It was a takingโ a raw assertion of ownership that felt as if he was trying to merge his very existence with yours; or perhaps, to split you in two.
The impact had you fighting against him, your eyes threatening to roll back for a fleeting second as the sheer scale of him filled you completely. He was too big, too much, an overwhelming presence that left no room for air, for thoughtโ for defiance. He folded himself over at you, nudging himself a little inside a little further as his breath ghosted over the shell of your ear.
โStill pathetic?โ He taunted, jagged, and rough.
He gave you no opportunity to comment back, no time to slide in an insult or jab. He began to move; each thrust was deep, punishing, and deliberate, designed to jar your entire frame and remind you of the reality of your situation. He used his size as a weapon, grinding his hips into yours with a relentless intensity that threatened and sought to drown out your thoughts, your pride, your โnever.โ The room seemed to shrink until it was only the two of youโ the sound of the carpet biting and scratching into your skin, the wetโ visceral and sordidโ friction of your skin; the ragged, synchronized moans and pants of two people locked in a war of attrition. Ariโs face was a twisted mask of focused intensity, his eyes locked in yours, searching for the exact moment the light of defiance would snuff out.
His teeth grazed your ear as he rumbled out, โWhereโs my noises, pretty girl? Donโt you wanna tell the whole house how pathetic I amโฆ While youโre shaking and choking my cock with that pretty cunt.โ
You muffled the whimper that continued its want for escape, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down until you feared the taste of copper. For you, it was a final act of rebellion; the last tool in the box. For Ari, it was an intolerable challenge. You knew he could feel how your walls gripped and pulsed around him; he knew the truth; he knew it with every deep, punishing thrust, but the fact you were still holding the gate shut nearly sent him over the edge.
โGod fucking dammit,โ Ari damn near growled, frustrated and flustered.
He didnโt just pull out; he ripped himself out of you with a sudden emptiness that left you gasping and hollow. Ari wasted no time, flipping you back over onto your back, rough fingertips bruising into your sides. You landed with a soft thud, the air leaving your lungs, but Ari was back on you within an instant. He gripped your legs under your knees and bent them upwards before his hands found your thighs, thumbs digging into the soft flesh as he parted your legs, situating himself snugly inside of them.
He pinned you there, hands keeping a tight hold on your legs, large palms pushing into the skin; almost folding you in half. The position utterly degrading, stripping away every last shred of poise you had tried to maintain; washed away under the sea blue of his eyes staring down at you with that hunger shining bright. You were bent, broken, and completely exposed, and you hated how your core clenched, already missing him.
โYou think youโre so strong because you can stay quiet? Like itโs gonna stop me?โ Ari asked, the low, dark timber rattling against the nape of your neck. He shifted, the head of his cock bumping against your cunt, threatening to sink in deep again. โIโm gonna hit every single spout that makes you lose that stubborn little mind. Iโm going to push you until you canโt remember how to hold your breath.โ
He reached forward to grab a handful of your hair at the top of your skull, yanking your head back, twinges of pain pricking across your scalp, which made you cry out as he forced you to look up at him; your back was bent almost impossibly, his other hand coming up to keep a tight hold on your neck. His eyes were wild, pupils blown with a mixture of lust and a desperate need to see you break.
Ari grinned as he let the tip of his cock catch against your leaking hole; the only warning you were given before he drove back into you. He used the hold on your neck to anchor you down against him as he hurried himself to the hilt.
โFuckkk,โ He moaned, deep and drawn out. โLetโs see if this works.โ
The angle was deeper, more invasive; knees angled towards your shoulder with nowhere to hide. You attempted to close your eyes, but a tight squeeze on your throat that threatened to keep your breath stuck in your lungs made them peel open again. You peered up at himโ eyes wet, lashes clumpedโ and let out a shaky breath as Ari drew backward. He began to move with a rhythmic, punishing violence, his hips slamming against your ass with a slapping, wet, heavy sound that echoed through the opulent room.
โCome on, Sugar. Let me hear that youโre mine. Thatโs what you wanted, right? Run away and spend the rest of your existence split open on my cock. Tell me that youโre nothing but my toy, my sweet girl, come on,โ Ari moaned into your ear, husky and honeyed, small grunts punctuated with each of his thrusts.
The sound was small at firstโ a broken, airy vibration that escaped your throat despite every ounce of your willpower, but once the dam broke, it was impossible to stop. The moan rippled through you, a physical admission of your pleasure and the pain of being under a man that had done you so wrong colluding in a sordid weapon that made your head swirl and your cunt ache and throb around himโ you had lost the fight between wrong and right and all that was left was Ari who let out a dark, triumphant sound; a low growl of victory that vibrated through your back and wrapped itself around your throat.
โYeah, there she is,โ Ari drawled. โHi, baby. Welcome home.โ
Your break was like a drug to him.
The sound seemingly stripped away the very last threads of his detachment, replacing it with a feral hunger. He didnโt slow down; instead, he accelerated, his thrusts becoming faster and more franticโ deeper and unrelenting. He was no longer just trying to punish you for the insults, the defiance; he was trying to consume you, to carve his name into your very soul. The room became filled with the sounds of your collisionโ the heavy thud of skin on skin, the mix of your airy, strung-out moans and his desperate groans; just two people pushed to their limits.
โYou knew you couldnโt fight it, Sugar. You canโt keep fighting me,โ Ari rasped as he leaned down, lips brushing against your shoulder.
Ari wouldnโt be satisfied with a simple break, though. He wanted a total collapse. You adjusted to the rhythm, moans coming out as quick, broken whines. The angle was extremeโ his massive frame almost compressing you under the weight of himโ leaving you completely open, your vulnerability absolute as his forehead almost touched yours before he pulled back a little to look at you with eyes that were dark, void of mercy and shimmering with a terrifying sort of triumph.
โLook at you, folded up like a little doll. Sโall you are, right?โ Ari hummed breathily as he leaned up and began to shallow his thrusts.
The sudden change in tempo was almost more agonizing than the violent back-and-forth of the previous moments. Ari shifted his weight, leaning back up onto his arms, creating a small gap that made you instantly arch back up against him. He stopped the deep, punishing drives and instead restricted his movements to shallow, teasing frictionsโ just enough to keep you balanced on the precipice of a peak you couldnโt reach on your own.
He gazed down at you, lids heavy and a sordid smile, a mask of predatory satisfaction. Your legs still pinned, your chest heaving and unable to rock up to get his cock further inside as your gaze glazed over with a shimmering mixture of desperation and lust. You squeezed around himโ an instinctive, pleading grip that contradicted every word you had spat at him since he lured you to the manorโ earning a small groan and a shake of his head.
โTell me youโre mine, baby. Tell me, and Iโll let you cum,โ Ari crooned lowly; the jaggedness that had been present in his tone was long gone and replaced by a silken, manipulative warmth. He leaned in closer, voice dropping to an intimate whisper. โJust tell me. Tell me what I wanna hearโฆ Tell me what youโve been hoping for.โ
He shifted slightly, a minute movement that sent a jolt of longing through you, and then stopped again, thrusting the tip in and out of your cunt. He was playing with you now, despite you gripping at his forearms and letting out the cries you had begged for. He treated your pleasure as a currency he could trade for your pride. He watched the way your pupils dilated, the way your breath hitched, favoring the power he held over you. That dark, knowing smirk tugged at his lips. He knew exactly how this worked; he knew how you looked at him, wanted him, how you reacted to simply being in his presence, and played like a harp.
โIsnโt that what you wanted? Didnโt you want that? Didnโt you wanna be all mine?โ Ariโs ramblings were messing with your head; or, rather, emptying it out. You couldnโt think straight as he gave one more shallow, agonizing thrust; his gaze licked on yours that demanded total surrender. He was offering you a way out of the tension, a release from the torture, but the price was the only thing you had left. His breath was hot against your lips, a soft, commanding lure. โIโll give it to you, babyโฆ Just tell me. Come on, Sugar. Do it for me.โ
Your head lolled to the side. The fight had drained out of you, replaced by a desperate, thrumming need that made every single nerve ending scream for the release he was withholding.
You bucked your hips slightly, letting out shallow and broken gaspsโ the sounds of a woman who had been pushed far beyond your breaking point and was now floating in the void of your own arousalโ when Ari would laugh and hold them still, depriving you of seeking your own pleasure; only allowing what he gave. He refused to move, staying perfectly still; a towering mountain of muscle and heat. He let the room's silence amplify your desperate breathing. He could feel the clenching of your walls, the way your body was begging him to fill you, to drive you over the edge.
As Ari leaned down, his lips brushed against the sensitive skin of your ear, the vibration from his voice sending a shiver through you.
โIโll play with this pretty pussy just the way you like,โ Ari lured, shifting his hips just a fractionโ a tease, a promiseโ sending a fresh wave of electricity through you that made your back arch up into him instinctively. โI know how you like it. Come on, Sugar. For me.โ
He knew the map of your body now; he knew where the triggers were, he knew how to play you, and he knew how much you could take before you snapped. He wanted you to feel the weight of your dependence on him, to realize that your own path to peace lay within satisfying him. He looked down at you, and you tried to shy away, knowing he had to see how clouded your vision was; the way your lips were parted and trembling. How he was slowly becoming the only thing in your worldโ the only spice of pleasure and pain, the only authority that mattered. He tightened his grip on your legs, pulling you slightly closer and nudging in deeper; the friction was almost unbearable.
โJust tell me,โ Ari whispered, a dark, possessive promise against your lips.
You let out a mix of a moan and a sob.
โIโm yours,โ You whined.
The words were barely audible, a shattered fragment of a voice that carried the weight of total defeat. The moment your admission left your lips, the tension in the room shifted. It wasnโt the sudden explosion of rage from before, but a suffocating wave of possessive triumph. Ari didnโt just hear you; he felt the surrender in the way your body finally went lax underneath him, the last wall of your defiance crumbling to dust as you gave in.
A deep rumble of satisfaction vibrated in his chest as his voice dropped into a dark, velvet purr.
โThatโs my girl.โ
With the victory finally secured, Ari shifted his position.
He pushed himself up, arms locked and muscles straining, creating a space that felt like a vacuum of anticipation. He didnโt pull out angrily; he retreated until he was barely clinging to you, the very tip of his cock rocking rhythmically and shallowly against your leaking entranceโ open and aching. His eyes locked on the scene below, lids heavy and lips parted; his hair falling around him like a dark halo. It was a precision stroke, a slow, maddening friction that kept you on the edge.
His eyes shined with a heavy mixture of lust and ownership. In a move of raw, lewd dominance, he spat. The liquid landed with a wet slap directly on your swollen clit that pulsed for attention. The contest between the cool wetness against your burning skin caused a sharp jolt to shoot through your body, making your hips twitch up towards him.
โNow we play,โ Ari hummed out, his hand sliding slowly down your body.
He didnโt rush to bring you your release. He brought his thumb down, pressing the calloused pad firmly into the puddle heโd created. He began to move in slow, deliberate circles; just enough pressure to make your head swim, but slow enough to stretch out every second of the sensation. He was molding your pleasure, twisting it into a form that only served him, ensuring that the orgasm he was about to grant you would be inextricably linked to the memory of your own submission.
โFeel that, Sugar? Feel how much you need me to finish this for you?โ Ari asked, his breathing heavy, eyes flicking from your soaked cunt to your face.
He increased the speed of the circles slightly, his thumb flicking with a rhythmic precision that matched the shallow, teasing rocks of his cock inside of you. Your face twisted up, letting out a string of cries as you rocked up against him. He was building a storm, a crescendo of sensory overload that threatened to drown out everything but the feeling of his hand. He watched your face, savoring the way your expression blurred into pure, desperate need.
Your hips bucked up against his hand again, a wanton sob falling from your lips.
โPleaseโฆ Please just let me, pleaseโฆโ
Ari let out a dark chuckle, his thumb pressing harder.
โPlease?โ Ari mocked with a matching pout, which made you whine and cry out.
The word was music to him.
After spending almost two hours fighting a war against your pride, the sound of you begging was the white flag he had been hunting for. He didnโt immediately give you what you wanted, though. Instead, he slowed his thumb down to a torturous, glacial crawl; teasing you to the very edge of your climaxโ the coil winding tighter and tighter as your breath came out in breathy hitches, your thighs ached, and you could hear the wetness around the head of his cock which made your cheeks flare up redโ before pulling back and leaving you suspended in a state of wound tension.
โNo, no, no,โ You cried, rocking up shamelessly to get back the same sensation. โPlease let me cum. Please, please, please.โ
A low, vibrating laugh in his throat made you squeeze your eyes closed, letting the tears fall as he felt your desperate movements.
โOh, look at you,โ Ari teased. โBegging like a little pup in heat.โ
Ari's laughter was a cold, taunting thing that echoed through the room, cutting through the sound of your desperate whimpers. He didn't move to help you, didnโt increase the pressure; he simply watched you, his eyes filled with a cruel glint as you continued to buck up beneath him. Your body acted on a primal instinct that Ari had so easily awakened and had completely overridden your mind. All you could think and feel was Ari, and he loved the viewโ the sight of the woman who had mocked him and spat in his face now reduced to a trembling, pleading mess, fighting for a handful of pleasure that only he could provide.
โWait, wait, wait,โ Ari said, halting his movements once again, leaving you to growl out in frustration, which he paid no mind to. โThought I wasnโt allowed to touch you again?โ His voice was a mocking croon, his thumb was hovering just millimeters above your clit; you could feel the heat. โI thought you hated me? Isnโt that what you said, Sugar? Thought you could just walk away from a man like me?โ
You frantically shook your head, a pout forming on your lips as Ariโs eyes lit up as he finally made contact with an unrelenting, punishing flick. You arched up against him, your head bending backward and your hands finding his arms.
โYou're shaking, Sugar. You're practically vibrating for me.โ
He didn't let you answer with words. He began to move his thumb in those same rhythmic, grinding circles, but this time, he increased the pressure, driving you toward the peak with a focused need, as he needed it as much as you did. He suddenly shifted, letting his cock slip out of you before his hips surged forward to replace the thumb with the full, blunt force of the head of his cock, letting it slip over your clit repeatedly before slamming deep into you with a force that knocked out a cry of his name. He didn't stop there; he began to drive into you with a frantic, desperate speed; each thrust was a violent affirmation of his ownership. He leaned down, one hand slipping under your neck, the other pushing on your thigh.
He was no longer teasing; he was determined to push you over the edge, the friction of your bodies creating a heat that felt like it would consume the entire room.
However, the sudden absence of his hand was like a physical blow.
One moment, you were seconds away from the shattering release you had begged for, and the next, you were left shivering in a cold, agonizing void. The sudden drop in stimulation sent you spiraling, your breath coming in ragged, broken sobs that shook your entire frame. You were left stranded at the summit, the tension in your body so tight it felt like a wire stretched to the point of snapping.
He shifted his weight, leaning back on his heels, both hands on your hips, and dragged you with him and began to fuck into you again with shallow, teasing movements. The switching between the two was driving you near-insane. He wasn't trying to reach your depths anymoreโ like you so desperately wanted, you wanted him to feel you swore you could feel him in your throat; he was merely grazing your entrance, a rhythmic, superficial friction that served only to remind you of what he was withholding.
Ari let out a long, heavy sigh. โI think I wanna see you do it instead.โ
He let out a huff of air that was almost a laugh, his eyes scanning your trembling body. He shifted his hips slightly, a small, sharp flick of movement that sent a jolt through you, before settling back into that maddeningly shallow pace. He wanted to see you degrade yourself; he wanted to see the "proud" woman take your own dignity into your own hands just to satisfy the hunger he had created.
โPlay with that pretty pussy for me. Show me how much you hate me, Sugar.โ
He remained a heavy, unmoving anchor within you, his eyes locked onto your hand, gesturing with a nod of his head towards your core. By the look on his face, you knew he wasn't going to move an inch further until you complied. He wanted the visualโ the sight of your fingers working for his own gain, the sound of your whimpering as you tried to find the release he had stolen. He was no longer just possessing your body; he was forcing you to become an accomplice in your own undoing.
You nodded as you slowly reached down, trembling and hesitant.
Ari let out a long moan, deep in his throat, as you let out an airy whine as the pads of your fingers came down over your swollen clit; the pads of your fingers sliding easily with the slick that still pooled there. You knew that for Ari, this had to be what he really wantedโ not the moans, not the tears, the words, but the moment you accepted the role of his plaything, performing for his entertainment. He watched with lidded eyes, still rocking the tip of cock in and out of you, his eyes tracking every slide of your fingers, every shudder that wracked your frame.
โThatโs it. Just like that.โ His voice was a throaty rumble, thick with pleasure and gratification.
He didn't make it easy for you. Every time you seemed to find a rhythm, every time your breathing hitched in a sign that you were nearing the edge, Ari would shift. He would drive deeper for one sudden, hard thrust, knocking you off balance and stealing your focus before retreating back to those shallow, maddening teases. He acted like the sole conductor of your pleasure, playing your nerves like a finely tuned instrument, ensuring you felt every ounce of your own desperation.
His breath was hot and weighted against your neck. โFaster, Sugar. I wanna see you struggle for it. I wanna see how much youโre begging for me to let go.โ
He shifted his grip on you, his large hand coming around your thighs to pull you up closer against him, your ass propped up by his knees, shoulder blades against the carpet, chest flatter against the carpet, forcing you to arch your back up furtherโ making your vulnerability even more acute. He wanted you exposed, he wanted you desperate, and most of all, he wanted you to know that even your own hands were only working because he allowed it.
โTell me, Sugar. Tell me how it feels to be mine. Donโt go quiet on me now,โ Ari pried. โTell me how much you love being my little toy while you do it.โ
Your fingers picked up speed, rolling the sensitive bundle between their pads.
โPlease,โ You gasped out. โPlease, mโso close.โ
Ari let out something between a laugh and a groan. โAlmost there, arenโt you?โ
You nodded, lips parted, just as the tension reached a fever pitch, just as the first sparks of a climax began to coil tight, before it shone in your eyes, Ari acted. With a sudden, violent thrust of his hips, he drove himself deepโ too deep and too fastโ shattering the delicate rhythm you had painstakingly built. The impact was jarring, a physical shock that sent a wave of frustration through your system, knocking you completely off the ledge you had been clinging to.
โFuck, fuck, fuck!โ You cried, unable to help yourself as you let out a desperate whine. โAri!โ
The rhythm was gone.
The momentum was dead.
You were left gasping, your body trembling in the sudden void of interrupted pleasure. The sheer cruelty of the timing was a psychological blow as much as a physical one; he had let you see the finish line only to tear it away at the final second.
โThatโs not what I wanna hear, Sugar,โ Ari scolded softly, hand coming up to grip at your chin, the palm of his hand applying a slight pressure to your throat.
He waited, staying buried deep inside you, a heavy, unyielding weight that felt like a seal on your fate. Your walls clenched and clung to him as he leaned down to brush his lips over yours before capturing you in a soft kiss, his tongue rolling against yours for a fleeting moment before he pulled back and leaned down. He peppered kisses from the thumb on the column of your neck, up to the shell of your ear, his voice vibrating through you with a manipulated darkness that threatened to keep pulling you further down.
โI didnโt ask if you were close,โ He rasped. โI asked how it feels to be mine.โ
He shifted slightly, a tiny, teasing rotation of his hips that sent a fresh jolt of longing through you, but he kept you pinned against him, keeping your legs parted so he could get a full view of your own hand still hovering near your heat, useless without his permission to continue. He was savoring itโ enjoying it; the absolute silence of your pride, replaced by the loud, frantic drumming of your heart and the broken sound of your breathing.
โSay it,โ Ari commanded, his tone dripping with a mocking, silky sweetness. โSay the words I want, Sugar, and maybeโ just maybeโ Iโll let you finish.โ
You let out something between a sob and a moan, a small shake of your head before you gave in.
โI love being your toy,โ You whispered, the words feeling heavy and filthy on your tongue. โIโm yours. Please, Ari. Please.โ
The admission was a broken, fragile thing that signaled the complete dissolution of your will. You didnโt wanna fight him any longer. You still wanted him; you wanted the fantasy, and if this was the only way to get itโthen so be it. It wasn't just a lie to get what you wanted; it was the sound of a woman who had been stripped of everything until the only thing left was the need for the man above you to stop the tortureโ or start it; you didnโt know anymore.
The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating, acting as the final key to the lock.
Ari let out a long, shuddering breath that sounded more like the predator finally closing its jaws. He had you. He had you right where he wanted you.
โGood girl,โ He cooed out, that mocking tone still laced with every word he spoke. โThatโs it. Thatโs my girl. Thereโs my baby.โ
The change in him was instantaneous.
The cruelty vanished, replaced by an all-too-familiar face. There he was. Your Ari. He seized your hand, pulling it away from your body with a sharp tug, and replaced it with his own. He didn't use the slow, teasing circles this time; he used a firm, rhythmic pressure, his thumb working in tandem with a sudden, violent resurgence of his hips. The tease was over, and in its place came a storm of relentless, focused stimulation. He drove into you with a fervent speed, his thumb grinding into your clit with a fierce precision that left no room for hesitation. The collision of the two sensationsโ the deep, heavy thud of his body and the sharp, electric friction of his handโ was too much.
You let out a broken, high-pitched cry as your climax finally hit you. It was a violent wave that crashed over your entire body, leaving your muscles seizing and your mind blank; however, Ari didn't stop. He kept fucking you right through the peak, his thrusts jarring and deep, forcing you to feel every single ounce of your own release as it merged with the unrelenting power of his movement. It was like he wanted you to be completely undone, to feel the pleasure as something he had granted and something he still controlled.
โThereโฆโ Ari began to moan out in between heavy pants and labored sighs. โThatโs itโฆ Take it all, Sugar. Know you can.โ
He let out a ragged, heavy breath, his own body trembling with the effort of holding back. He stayed buried inside you for a few moments more, savoring the way you shivered and gasped beneath him, the aftermath of the orgasm leaving you pliant, shattered, and spent. Then, with a sudden shift in energy, he pulled back.
โMy turn.โ Ariโs voice was a sordid promiseโ one you didnโt know how you were going to survive; one you didnโt know if you wanted to.
Ari gripped you by the waist and hoisted you up with ease, your body feeling like nothing in his massive arms. He carried you the short distance to the bed, tossing you onto the plush mattress with a blunt lack of ceremony. Before you could even roll over, he was there, lounging back against the headboard and pulling you onto his lap.
He sat you astride him, your legs framing his hips, stretched to capacity over his thick thighs, your chest heaving as you looked down at him. Ari's eyes were dark, his pupils blown, looking up at you with a mixture of predatory lust and a cold, possessive success. He gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your soft skin to anchor you in place, ensuring you felt the full, pulsing length of him beneath you.
โPut those legs to work, Sugar. Make me cum,โ Ari commanded with a deep drawl. Ari watched with a thick anticipation as you reached under and lifted up into your knees, your fingers wrapping around his length. You stoked the underside of his cock, running your thumb down that thick vein that made him let out a hiss of air. You nudged the head against your clit, rocking for a moment. โFuckingโฆ finally.โ
He stayed anchored, his massive hands gripping your hips with enough pressure to leave bruises, forcing you to take full control of the movement. The sensation of your delicate fingers stroking the underside of his shaft, combined with the slow, agonizing tease of the head grazing your clit made you let out a long, drawn-out whine as Ari let out a throaty groan. He watched you through hooded eyes, his gaze tracking your flushed, tear-stained face.
โDon't just tease me, baby. I've been patient enough tonight,โ Ari said, almost pleading.
You lifted up as much as your legs allowed, fighting through the shakiness of your thighs, as you nudged the tip against your wet hole, taking in sharp gasps as you began to sink down on him. The stretch seemed more this way, filling you more than before.
Ari let out a low, guttural groan that sounded more like a snarl, his eyes fluttering shut for a second. โFuckโฆโ
The slow, deliberate descent was a different kind of torture. As you sank down, the friction was visceral, the wet heat of your body wrapping around him in a tight, desperate grip. Ari's fingers dug deeper into your hips, his knuckles white, as he felt you slowly encompass him, inch by agonizing inch. You knew he could feel the tremor in your thighs, the way your body was still sensitive and humming for him, and it only drove his need higher.
Once you were fully seated, bottoming out against him, Ari's eyes snapped open. They were void of any remaining tenderness, replaced by that raw, pulsing hunger. He didn't let you settle for long. He gripped your waist and began to thrust upward, meeting your descent with a powerful, rhythmic surge that forced you to bounce on him, pulling pitched moans with every jolt.
โLook at you... taking it all,โ Ari rasped out, breathless as he tilted his head back against the headboard, watching you closely. โOh, fuck it.โ
He accelerated the pace, his movements becoming less about pleasure and more about a desperate, driving need to fill you up. It was like he was using you as nothing more than a vessel; his breaths coming in short, sharp bursts as he pushed himself toward the edge, his grip on your hips so tight that you cried out, your hands ending up flat on his chest.
His eyes locked onto yours with a taunting gleam.
โWhat was it you said yesterday?โ Ari asked, head cocking to the side slightly as he thrust upward with a sudden, violent force, making your entire body buck and making your breath hitch. He didn't slow down, keeping a relentless pace that forced you to cling to his shoulders for balance. He was no longer just seeking his own release; he was weaving your previous insults back into the actโ turning your own words into a leash. His voice was a deep rumble, his grip tightening on your hips until his fingertips sank into your skin.ย โA communal fleshlight? Hmm?โ
He let out a dark, breathless laugh, the sound vibrating through his chest and into you. He watched your face, searching for the flicker of shame or the return of that defiant spark, wanting to see your struggle with the reality of your current position, but it was long gone. All that was left was the sheer need to keep him buried deep inside you, to lose yourself in hun. He was the one who had broken you, the one who had forced the submission from your lips, and now he was making you inhabit the very role you had used to mock them.
His voice dropped to a lethal hiss that made you choke back a sob.
โJust a fucking hole. Thatโs all you are now, Sugar. Just a place for me to put thisโโ He slammed into you, causing you to sink your nails into his bicep, your forehead touching his as you keened upwards. โA place for us all.โ
The words were spat out with a clinical coldness, designed to strip away whatever dignity you had managed to claw back in the aftermath of your orgasm. He didn't pause for a reaction. Instead, he surged upward one more time, another brutal, bottoming-out thrust that seemed to aim for your very core, anchoring you to him with a possessive violence.
He began to move again, but the rhythm had shifted. It was no longer about the slow, seductive build or the playful torture. It was a raw, driving necessity. He used his strength to control your every movement, his hands acting like vices on your hips as he dictated the depth and speed of your collision. He was erasing you as a person, reducing you to the very thing he had just namedโ a tool for his own gratificationโ and you were letting it happen.
The room was thick with the scent of sex and sweat; the only sounds were the rhythmic, wet slapping of your bodies and Ari's heavy, ragged breathing mixing with your moans and the breathy chants of his name. He was close now, his muscles coiled and trembling under the skin, his focus narrowed down to the tight, hot grip of your body around him. He let out a low, animalistic grunt, his movements becoming frantic, a desperate scramble for the finish line before seemingly changing his mind, pulling out of you with a grunt and wrapping his hand around the base of his cock, letting out a long, shaky breath.
โOh, fuck,โ He moaned out. โFuck, thatโsโ That fucking cunt, sneaky little thing.โ
โ
The frantic violence of the moment suddenly vanished, replaced by a heavy, suffocating stillness and heavy breaths.
He looked up at you, his eyes half-lidded and dark, glazed with a mixture of lingering lust and an insatiable need. He wasn't finished with youโ not even closeโ but he leaned back like he wanted to savor the wreckage. His eyes wandered to your core, as if searching for the physical evidence of what he had done to you; to see the way your body had been stretched to accommodate him.
โSpread that cunt open for me.โ He spoke with a deep hum, a demanding croon; the sound of a man who owned every inch of the room and the woman in it. He shifted his grip, his hands sliding from your hips to the backs of your thighs, his large palms pressing firmly against your skin. He didn't push you; he simply waited, the expectation of obedience hanging in the air like a blade. The smirk on his lips made you lean forward a little. There was no doubt that you were going to do it; that you were going to willingly display your vulnerability, to show him the very place where he had spent the night breaking you. โLet me see it. Let me see how I've wrecked it. Show me.โ
He remained perfectly still, his breathing ragged, his gaze fixed intently on the point where you were joined. He was demanding a final act of submission, a visual surrender that would cement your new status as nothing more than an object for his observation and use.
Ari let out a long, slow exhale, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched your fingers tremble as you reached down to slide a hand to part yourself for him, fighting off the shame that wanted to bloom across your cheeks. He watched with a dark, focused intensity as your fingers pulled yourself open, exposing the raw, swollen reality of your encounter.
โThat's it. Good girl,โ Ari praised, voice almost a whisper.
The sight was so visceral that you couldnโt bring yourself to look down until Ari guided your gaze with a simple flick of his eyesโ the flush of your skin, the glistening wetness, and the way your body had clung to him even in this state of exposure. To Ari, it wasn't just sex; it was a ledger of his victory, a physical map of where he had overridden your will and where he had left his mark. For you, it was everything you had wanted, even if it meant pretending you were elsewhere.
He didn't look away. His gaze remained fixed on the intersection of your bodies, his pupils blown wide. Slowly, Ari shifted one of his hands from your thigh as he positioned himself back against your hole, and you knew better than to move your hand away until you got his say-so. He helped you settle back down on him before letting you sit back, giving him a full view of you stretched to the limit around his cock until he reached forward, his large, calloused fingers moving with a sudden contrast of gentleness and intent. He began to trace the perimeter where your soft, swollen flesh was stretched tight around the thick diameter of his length.
His touch was light, almost a caress, but the intent behind it was purely possessive. Your muscles twitched under his fingertips, a shiver rolling through you from the contact. He traced the rim of your opening, feeling the heat and the tension, as if mapping out the limits of your elasticity. He let out a deep, contemplative hum, his breath hitching as he felt you clench instinctively.
โWonder if I could stretch this any more?โ
He didn't wait for an answer.
He applied a small, sudden pressure, pressing a finger against the edge of your opening to test the skin's resistance. You gasped and flinched, but Ariโs heavy hand on your hip kept you firmly in place. The movement was almost clinical, his eyes searching for that familiar spark of fear or the blankness of total surrender in your eyes. He was no longer just thinking about his own release; he was thinking about the capacity of the "toy" he had been given, wondering exactly how much he could break you before you truly snapped.
โI bet I could. I bet I could make you take even more than this, couldn't I, Sugar?โ Ari asked, a silky whisper that made you whimper and shake your head, but you still felt the familiar ache as you clenched around him, and you knew you were going to have no choice. A chuckle rumbled in his chest. โShaking that pretty head, but your body is saying something else entirely.โ
Ari tightened his grip on your thigh, pulling himself up so there was no gap, no air, only the crushing weight of his presence. You shuddered under his gaze as Ari withdrew his hand from the intimate, swollen heat of your body, but the sudden release brought no comfort. He didn't move away; he simply brought his hand up, the fingers glistening with your own fluids and the evidence of your encounter. He didn't offer a gentle touch. He pressed his fingers firmly against your lips, the smell of your sex filling the small space between them, forcing you to face the reality of what he had just done to you.
โGet 'em wet.โ He didn't nudge or plead; it was an order, delivered with the same absolute authority he used to manage the family's dirty work. He held his fingers there, a barrier between you and the air, waiting for you to comply. The contrast was starkโ softness of your pouty lips against the calloused, rough skin of his hand. He wanted you to taste yourself on him, to swallow the evidence of your own surrender. โDo it now, or it's really gonna suck for you.โ
The threat was unspoken but clear.
Ari had spent the last hour playing with the boundary between pleasure and pain, and he was more than willing to tilt the scale back toward the latter if you hesitated. He remained anchored beneath you, his cock still filling you, a heavy reminder that he held every card in this game. He watched your eyes, waiting for the moment you accepted that your only option was to obey.
You parted your lips and slowly sucked his fingers into your mouth, your hand coming up to wrap pathetically around his large wrist. Ari let out a long exhale as your hand came into contact with his wrist.
โThatโs it, baby. Now youโre learning. Just gotta listen, gotta behave.โ
Ari watched you, heavy and possessive, as you took his fingers into your mouth. He didn't just let you suck; he exerted a small, controlling pressure, his rough fingers sliding against your tongue and the roof of your mouth, forcing you to accommodate him. He seemed to savor the way your hand wrapped around his wrist with a pathetic, desperate need for stability, as if he were the only thing keeping you from dissolving entirely.
Your other hand came up, fingernails scratching softly at the back of his hand, your thumbs pushed into his palm as your tongue rolled against the calloused fingertips. You let out a lengthy, heated hum around his fingers and rocked your hips down against him.
A growl ripped from his throat, his muscles locking tight. โYou littleโฆโ
The sudden shift in your behaviorโ the way you began to actively seek him out, your nails scratching at his skin and yourย hips rocking in a slow, desperate invitationโ sent a surge of fresh, violent lust through him. He had spent the night breaking you, and now that you had allowed yourself to be broken, you were becoming something far more dangerous: a creature that craved the very hand that crushed you. The humming vibration of your throat against his fingers echoed the pulsing need deep in his own gut.
Ari didn't let you continue the tease for long.
He abruptly withdrew his fingers from your mouth with a sharp flick, his hand moving with a blur of speed to grip the back of your neck; his hold was iron, forcing your head back and exposing your throat to the dim light of the room. He looked up at you, his eyes void of everything but a raw, animalistic hunger, his chest heaving beneath you.
โYou like it, don't you?โ He surged upward with a sudden, explosive force, his hips slamming into you with everything he had. The impact was a brutal taking that knocked the breath from your lungs and sent you sliding up his body. He began to drive into you with a frantic, punishing rhythm, his movements primal. He was no longer conducting a symphony of submission; he was simply drowning in you. โI'm going to ruin you for anyone else, Sugarโฆ you're going to forget how to even breathe without meโฆโ
The violent intensity of his thrusts reached a fever pitch, the room echoing with the sound of Ariโs desperate thrusts and your needy moans. Ari was a force of nature, his muscles coiled and trembling, his focus narrowed entirely to the friction and heat of your body. Just as he neared the edge, he shifted. He didn't pull away, but he adjusted his grip on your neck, releasing you just enough to slide his hand back down. With a sharp, commanding movement, he thrust his fingers back toward your face, offering them up like a prizeโ or a leash. He didn't stop his hips; he kept a steady, grinding pace, his cock acting as a heavy, pulsing anchor that kept you pinned to him even as he demanded your focus elsewhere.
He gave a jagged command, his eyes burning with a dark, possessive fire. โTake them.โ
Without hesitation, you opened your mouth and let him thrust his fingers back into your mouth, humming around them.
Ari let out a hiss, his hips bucking upward to meet you. โThat's it... just like that.โ
The sound of you humming around his fingers, the vibration of it traveling up his arm and settling in his chest, was the final trigger. He wasn't just possessing your body anymore; he had your senses completely occupied. Your mouth was full of him, your body was filled with him, and your mind was reduced to a singular, pulsing need for the man who had dismantled you.
Ari's movements became frantic.
He stopped the grinding and shifted into deep, violent plunges, each one driving you higher and higher until you collapsed on him, your face was snug against his throat, lips parted around his fingers as you cried out above him. He gripped your waist so hard his fingerprints were undoubtedly printing bruises onto your skin, his knuckles white. He was no longer the composed, cold right-hand of the family; he was a man possessed by a dark, singular obsession.
Ariโs voice was jagged, letting out a broken groan, his eyes blowing wide as the peak hit him. โYou're mineโฆ fucking mineโฆโ
He didn't let the momentum die. Even as the first waves of his release began to coil in his gut, Ari refused to let the act be passive. Itโs like he wanted you to be the one to push him over the precipice; he wanted you to be the instrument of his undoing. He shifted his grip, his massive hands sliding from your waist to the underside of your thighs, lifting you slightly to create a gap before letting you drop back down with a heavy, wet thud.
โBounce on it, baby, come on,โ Ari moaned out, deep and desperate. He began to thrust upward with a violent, rhythmic urgency, forcing your body to mirror his desperation. You kept your hands locked around his wrist, fucking yourself back onto him. He wasn't just asking for movement; he was demanding a performance of pure, unadulterated need. The room was a blur of heat and sound, the heavy scent of your union clinging to the air like a shroud. โYeah, bounce on my cock, Sugar... make me cum, Sugar. Gonna fill you up. Fuck, fuck, fuck.โ
Your teeth dug into the flesh of his fingers slightly, letting out muffled cries as you bounded feverishly, which earned you a strangled grunt from Ari, it ripping out of his throat.
โFuck!โ
The sharp, sudden prick of pain was the final spark to the powder keg.
It must have sent a jolt of electricity straight to his core, syncing perfectly with the desperate, frantic rhythm of your hips as Ari's entire body went rigid, his back arching off the mattress as the orgasm tore through him with a violent, unchecked intensity. He didn't pull away from the bite; instead, he leaned into it, the pain only fueling the raw, animalistic nature of his release. He gripped your thighs with a crushing force, his fingers digging into the soft flesh to keep you locked against him as he spilled himself deep inside you.
The world narrowed down to the sound of your combined, ragged breathing.
For several long seconds, neither of you moved, suspended in the heavy, shimmering aftermath of a battle that had left you both physically and emotionally spent; a battle that both of you won and both of you lost. Slowly, Ari's muscles began to slacken. His grip on your thighs loosened, and he finally withdrew his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop. He didn't push you off him immediately; he simply lay there, his chest heaving, his eyes half-closed and glazed with a dark, lingering satisfaction. He looked up at youโ flushed, shaking, and completely undoneโ and a ghost of a smirk touched his lips.
โLook at you,โ Ari mused, barely more than a whisper.
You hummed, your legs shaking as they remained stretched over him. You reached for his hand, fingers gently stroking against the bite marks. Your body still felt aliveโ wound, like you werenโt ready to give in just yet. You couldnโt let it be over. You slowly guided his hand down your body and back between your legs as you kept your gaze locked on his.
Ari let out a deep huff of air, his eyes tracking your every movement with a heavy, hooded gaze. โStill hungry, are you?โ
You let out another hum and gave him a nod.
He didn't resist you. You knew he wouldnโt.
He let his hand be guided; his large, calloused palm sliding over the wetness of your thighs until he felt the heat of you. The difference between you was painstakingly obviousโ his hand was steady and dominant, while your fingers were trembling, still humming with the electricity of the encounter. He didn't rush to apply pressure; he simply rested his hand there, feeling the way you squeezed around him, the need for your orgasm thrumming through your body.
Ari looked up at you, the coldness that usually defined his features softened by an amused, possessive haze. He watched the way your hair spilled across his chest and shoulders, almost like a curtain that isolated you from the rest of the house and the other men waiting for their turn.
โYou're a greedy little thing, Sugar,โ Ari cooed as his fingers began to curl, grazing your clit with a skilled precision.
He didn't start a full-blown assault; instead, he began a slow, torturous exploration. He used his fingertips to trace the swollen edges of your opening, testing the sensitivity he had spent the last hour heightening. Every small flick of his wrist sent a fresh spark through you, reminding you that while the storm had passed, he still held the lightning.
His eyes locked onto yours, a smirk playing on his lips.
โDo you want more, Sugar? Do you want me to keep ruining you until you can't even remember your own name?โ
โDon't stopโฆโ You whined out behind a bitten lip, staring at him with pleading, desperate eyes.
A dark laugh rippled through his chest, his fingers suddenly pressing firmly down on your clit.ย โCareful what you wish for, Sugar.โ
Ari's hand shifted from a tease to a focused assault. He knew exactly where your nerves were raw, exactly how much pressure would push you back toward the ledge. He began to work you with a need that matched your own, his fingers sliding through the wetness he had created, mirroring the heavy, pulsing presence of his cock that still filled you.
He watched your face, the way your expression shifted from desperation to pure, unadulterated need. His own eyes lit up at the sigh, and you wondered if he loved the way your eyes glazed overโ the same way you loved when his would turn almost black. You wondered if he liked the way your lip stayed caught between your teethโ the same way you liked it when his face would twist up when you would squeeze him just right. Even if he didnโt want to admit it, he was no longer just satisfying a physical urge; as much as he was cementing a psychological tether, ensuring that your pleasure was entirely dependent on his whim, he was enjoying the link to you. He was letting himself feelโ even if for a moment.
Ariโs hips gave a slow, shallow buck upward.
โLook at you,โ Ari said, โBegging for it again. After everything I just did to you.โ
He increased the speed of his fingers, his movements becoming a blur of friction and heat. Your walls clenched around his softening cock, your body reacting instinctively to the renewed stimulation. He was building the tension again, a second wave of sensory overload that threatened to drown you. He leaned up slightly, his lips grazing your jawline, his breath hot and heavy.
โYou're already becoming such a little addict, aren't you? Addicted to the way I break you. Youโre gonna be so fun to pass along, Sugar.โ Ari whispered, his tone dripping with a lethal sweetness.
You groaned at him, throwing your words back at you, but despite it, you began to arch your back, your breath hitching in anticipation of another climax, but Ari suddenly stopped. He didn't pull his hand away, but he froze every movement, leaving you suspended in that agonizing, white-hot void once again. He stayed perfectly still, ignoring and enjoying the way you cried out, his eyes locked onto yours, watching the frustration ripple through your shaking frame.
โNot yet. Tell me who you belong to. Tell me who owns every single inch of this greedy little body,โ Ari rasped out.
โYou own me, please,โ You sobbed out desperately.
A dark, triumphant hum vibrated deep in his chest, his eyes darkening as he savored the sound. โThat's right. Every single inch.โ
The admission was the final piece of the puzzle.
For Ari, the physical act was the method, but this verbal surrender was the goal. For you, it was continuing the lie you had built up in your head.
He didn't reward you immediately; he let the words hang in the air, letting the weight of your submission sink in until you were trembling with the effort of holding yourself up on him. He watched the way your eyes were clouded with need; your spirit stripped bare and laid open for his inspection.
Then, with a sudden, violent surge of motion, Ari snapped. He didn't just resume the stimulation; he unleashed it. His hand became a blur of rhythmic, crushing pressure against your clit, while you chanted his name out like a prayer. He wasn't teasing anymore. He was driving you straight into the wall, forcing your body to collapse under the weight of a second, even more intense climax; your whole body seizing up and then breaking under it.
โDon't you dare close your eyes,โ Ari growled up at you, his thumb pressing in with a ruthless skill. โWant you to see me while you fall apart.โ
You kept your eyes locked on his as you let out a string of broken moans.
The room around you dissolved into a kaleidoscope of sensation.
Your vision blurred at the edges, but you fought to keep your gaze anchored to Ari's. You saw the hunger in his eyes, the dark triumph of a man who had not only claimed your body but had successfully and undoubtedly dismantled you. Every broken moan that escaped your lips was a testament to his control. You were shaking, your entire frame vibrating with the force of a release that felt less like pleasure and more like a total systemic collapse.
โThat's it... Break for me... Just fucking breakโฆโ
As the waves of the orgasm slowly receded, leaving you limp and gasping, Ari didn't immediately pull away. He stayed buried deep inside you. He looked up at you, his expression a complex mixture of cold satisfaction and a strange, dark intensity that seemed to border on obsession. He had pushed you further than any of the other men had yet, which made your stomach want to turn up with dread. The sight of himโ completely spent, little puffs of breath leaving through his parted lips, the strands of his long hair stuck to his damp foreheadโ helped push the feeling down for a little while longer.
Slowly, with a lingering, heavy friction, Ari withdrew from you. The sudden absence of his warmth felt like a cold shock to your sensitive system. He didn't help you up; he simply sat back against the headboard, watching as you slumped over his legs, cheek ending up laid against his chest, listening to the pounding of his heart. He reached out, his large hand gripping the back of your neck one last time, not with violence, but with a firm, grounding pressure that reminded you exactly where you stood.
โYou did well tonight, Sugar,โ Ari said, voice sounding thick with a tenderness that didnโt seem right in the space he had created, but you took it anyway.
He let out a slow, shuddering breath, his eyes scanning the room as the adrenaline began to fade, replaced by the oppressive silence of the manor. The high of the conquest was still there, but the reality of the situationโ the debt, the family, the rotationโ settled back in. He shifted his hand from your neck to your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lower lip, which was still swollen from his fingers.
His gaze locked onto yoursโ a dark, warning glint returning to his eyes.ย ย
โDon't think this means I've gone soft. Youโve got half an hour until Curtis is at that door, and he isn't nearly as... patient... as I am.โ
The silence that followed was heavy, thick with the scent of sweat, sex, and the lingering weight of a psychological storm. Ari didn't move to comfort you. He didn't offer a blanket or a gentle word. He simply watched you for a moment longer, his gaze almost clinical once more, as if he were examining a piece of equipment he had pushed to its absolute limit to see if it would break. The rhythmic thudding of his heart began to slow, but the possessive energy still radiated off him in waves.
He finally shifted, sliding out from under you with a fluid, practiced grace. The loss of his body heat left you shivering in the dampness of the sheets, and you bit back a plea for him to come back. Ari stood up, his towering frame casting a long shadow over your curled-up form. He didn't look back as he walked toward the ensuite bathroom, the sound of the shower starting up and the steam beginning to leak back into the bedroom; and for a long while after, the only sound was the hiss of the water and your own shallow, trembling breaths.
Then, the shower stopped.
Ari emerged, a towel wrapped low around his hips, droplets of water clinging to the hard planes of his chest and the dark hair of his stomach. He didn't speak as he dressed, his movements efficient and cold, the "right hand" of the family returning to his professional shell.
โClean yourself up. I don't want you smelling like me when Curtis walks through that door tomorrow morning. He wonโt like it,โ Ari instructed, not looking at you as he pulled his shirt over his head and smoothed it out.
He walked to the door, his hand gripping the handle and pulling it open. He paused for a fraction of a second, the silhouette of his massive shoulders blocking the light from the hallway.
Wait,โ You called out after him.
You didnโt expect it, but he stopped.
While he didn't turn around immediately. He remained frozen, his hand still clamped on the brass handle, his broad back a wall of muscle that seemed to shrink the room. In the hours you had spent together, every interaction had been a battle of wills or a lesson in submission.
โJust... Just come pretend with me for a moment,โ You finally pleaded, fighting against the tiredness that pulled at your eyelids.
The request hung in the air, fragile and incongruous against the backdrop of the wreckage in the bed. The word pretend felt alien in this house, a place where every cruelty was honest, and every boundary was meant to be demolished. Ari didn't move for several seconds. His shoulders were tense, his grip on the door handle so tight the metal seemed to groan.
โCome here.โ Your voice was small and quiet.
The silence was heavy, save for the distant, rhythmic ticking of a clock somewhere in the manor's bowels. He remained a silhouette against the hallway light, his mind likely racing through the logic of the request.
Pretend.
It was a dangerous word. It implied a world where he wasn't a captor, and you weren't a debt-ridden asset. It was a request for a lie, a momentary truce in a war where he had already declared himself the victor.
Slowly, with a deliberate, heavy movement, he turned. He didn't look soft; his face was still a mask of cold, professional indifference, but there was a flicker of somethingโcuriosity, perhaps, or a remnant of the man he had been before the divorce and the darkness of his family's businessโin the depth of his eyes. He didn't speak. He simply watched you, his gaze tracking the way you lay there, small and broken among the rumpled sheets.
Ari moved with a heavy, reluctant grace. He didn't rush; every step was a measured calculation, as if he were stepping into a minefield. The distance between the door and the bed felt vast, the atmosphere shifting from the coldness of a command to something thick, suffocating, and dangerously intimate.
He sank to one knee beside the mattress. His massive frame, even while kneeling, dominated the space, his presence a crushing weight. He didn't speak, his expression guarded, his jaw tight. He stayed perfectly still, his arms resting on his thighs, waiting. He was giving you the space to bridge the gap, as if testing whether this "pretend" was a genuine plea for comfort or another, more subtle form of psychological warfare.
As you shuffled toward him, your movements slow and trembling, Ari's gaze followed you with a hooded intensity. He waited until you were close enough to feel the heat radiating off his skin. Slowly, almost tentatively, Ari reached out. His hand, large enough to cover your entire side, moved with a gentleness that felt wrong in the context of your night together. He smoothed his palm down your side, the calloused skin grazing your ribs in a slow, grounding motion. Ari let out a long, shaky breath, his voice a fractured rumble that barely sounded like him.
โWhat the hell is this, Sugar?โ
Despite his questioning, he didn't pull away. His fingers lingered, tracing the curve of your waist with a tentative curiosity. It seemed like, for the first time, he wasn't seeking a reaction of fear or submission; he was simply feeling you, as if trying to remember how to touch something without intending to break it.
โJust for a minute,โ You coaxed.
You reached up to stroke your fingers through his damp hair, nails scratching softly at his scalp. You saw his eyes flutter closed; a muffled noiseโ halfway between a sigh and a groanโ escaped his throat.
The touch must have been a shock to his system. For a man who lived in a world of violence, blackmail, and cold calculations, this kind of tenderness had to be an anomaly. You guessed it was a vulnerability he hadn't permitted himself in a long time. As your fingers drifted through his damp hair and your nails grazed his scalp, you felt a sudden, violent tension snap within him. He didn't pull away; instead, he leaned into your hand, his forehead dropping forward to rest against your shoulder.
โThis is what I hoped for when I met you the first time,โ You admitted, voice almost a whisper. โThat maybe I'd get to run away, and you'd follow me, and we'd have a home, and spend our nights curled up just like this.โ
The confession must have hit Ari with more force than any of the physical battles he had ever fought. For a long moment, he remained frozen, his forehead pressed against your shoulder, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. The image you had paintedโ a home, a life, a quiet sanctuaryโ was a ghost of a dream you didnโt know he had buried under layers of cynicism and blood. It was a fantasy that had no place in the manor, and certainly no place between a captor and his toy.
โAnd then you ruined it.โ
You pushed yourself away from him, sliding off the bed and disappearing into the bathroom without looking back, the door shutting heavily behind you. The click of the bathroom door was as final as a gunshot in the sudden, oppressive silence of the room. You let yourself sag against the door, bringing your hands up to cover your face while you waited for the lock to click. When it finally rang out, you pulled your hands down and inspected them. The phantom sensation of your nails on his scalp lingered, a ghostly caress that now felt like a brand.
holy fucking shit this was so filthy iโm genuinely gonna need a moment to recover ๐ซช๐ซช
ARI FUCKING LEVINSON YOU ARE EVIL AND AWFUL AND AO FUCKING DELICIOUS!!! exactly how i like โem. ๐โโ๏ธ๐โโ๏ธ the push and pull between these two in this chapter was insanneeee, ari so desperately trying to prove she has no power over him, that he can reduce her to a needy toy he likes to fuck, but he definitely revealed more vulnerabilities than i think he ever intended to!!
โI donโt need Lloydโs permission to break a toy thatโs already malfunctioning.โ
LITERALLY SQUEALING BITING MY PINKY KICKING MY FEET HELLLOOO????? the mouth on him is insaneeee id be a puddle under him
โYeah, there she is,โ Ari drawled. โHi, baby. Welcome home.โ
heโs such a fucking dickkkk why is this so fucking sexyyy oh my god girl all your dirty talk has me going coocoo youโre too good at this
โJust a fucking hole. Thatโs all you are now, Sugar. Just a place for me to put thisโโ He slammed into you, causing you to sink your nails into his bicep, your forehead touching his as you keened upwards. โA place for us all.โ
Iโ ๐ซช๐ซช๐ซช
โAnd then you ruined it.โ
but this!!!! omg this line actually made me gasp!! bc for all ariโs posturing as the cool detached man that nothing touches, there is clearly something underneath that reader has managed to break into, despite ariโs best efforts to pretend otherwise. that small ugly soft side of him that maybe did want something normal and nice rather than being stuck doing all these awful things for his family. and sugar reminding him that he had that within reach and now heโll never get it? that he can do all those filthy things to hear, can make her beg and cry, but heโll never have her heart, never have her softness, goddamnnn ๐คฏ๐คฏ
i adore this series so much, thank you so much for sharing this next chapter!!! <33
Pairing: Spy!Steve x Spy!Reader
WC: 10.5k
Warnings: enemies to lovers, loosely inspired by mr. and mrs. smith, the avengers are not super mainstream in this, sexual tension, shower scene, makeout, jealousy, mean!steve at times, brat!reader, eventual smut (dry humping, fingering, unprotected p in v, edging, creampie, steve eating you out within an inch of your life (munch steve come homeeeeeeee), doggy style, tonguefucking), mentions of voyeurism, surveillance, size kink, miscommunication, angst-ish with comfort.
Summary: You and Steve are voluntold you're married for an undercover mission. Should be easy, except you hate each other.
+fran: this is the opening showing of the Captain Americana Film Festival and my humble contribution to Steve's birthday!!! I cannot tell you how much it filled me with joy that I sat down to write this on the 4th and actually spat out 10k words. WE ARE SO BACK!!! Happy 108th to the man who will always have my heart, has been the gold standard against which I measure every man, (this is blond man propaganda) and also my astrological twin <3 no one gets me like he does fr.
โคท you should go listen to the incredible playlist named "mr and mrs smith [john and jane]" by marybatz on spotify
"Absolutely not!"
Fury had the timing of a tax audit to a billionaire CEO. Of course, of course, you'd be stuck playing this mission with fucking Steve.ย
One second you were minding your business, enjoying what was left of your coffee and your relatively peaceful morning, and the next Nick Fury was informing you that you would be spending the foreseeable future pretending to be happily married to Steve Rogers.
"You're going."ย Fury didn't even break stride. He rolled his eye and kept walking down the hallway toward the conference room, clearly done entertaining your complaints before you'd even finished making them,ย with you hot on his heel.ย
Your footsteps echoed in the wide hallway as you walked backwards, facing Fury. "Can't I marry someone else for this?" You pondered. "What about Barnes?"
Fury stopped so suddenly you nearly tripped. "You want to pretend to be married to Barnes?"
You opened your mouth, immediately closed it, thought for a second and shrugged, squeezing your eyes shut. "That's not the point."
"That's what I thought."
The polished floors reflected the overhead lights as the two of you moved through the hallway. โNat, maybe? Some of those married dudes would eat up girl-on-girl and spill the beans right away. Mission would be so quick!โ
Fury walked with the patience of a man who'd dealt with far worse than you.ย The fact that he hadn't strangled you after years of working together was honestly kind of impressive, a little endearing almost.
Both of you quickly arrived at the conference room door, Fury stopping with his hand on the handle, turning his face to you and letting our a frustrated sigh. "Do you like working here?"
You rolled your eyes, "Yes, sir." What kind of question was that?
"And what's your title?" His brow quirked up.
A confused look plastered all over your face. "Agent."
He leaned down to talk to you closer, almost like explaining rules to a petulant child, "Then be an agent." and proceeded to push the door open and hold it for you, giving you full view of Steve Rogers sitting at the head of the table with a sour expression on his face, just as displeased to have to pretend to love you for the mission.ย
The training room should've been empty half an hour ago, and technically, everyone was done for the day.ย
Itย shouldโveย been quietโmats wiped down, lights dimmed, everyone gone for the night.
Instead, the air was thick.
Heavy with sweat, heat, and something sharp enough to make the back of your neck prickle. The entire team and a couple recruits were watching you.
Well, you and Steve.ย
At firstย not openlyโno one was stupid enough to make it obviousโbut they lingered. Leaned against walls, sat on benches, hovered just close enough to pretend they had somewhere else to be.
It started as any other training session did, you rotated partners, almost like shark bait:ย in and out, partner after partner cycling through you while you stayed planted on the mat, pushing your stamina, your endurance, your patience.
Until you ended up on the other side of the mat from Steve.ย
Barefoot, sleeves rolled, skin already lightly sheened with the littlest bit of sweat that somehow made him lookย betterinstead of worseโwhich was deeply, personally offensive.
Here's the thing: he was a super soldier. He had endless stamina, super strength, reflexes that outmatched 99% of the population, and he had it all with perfect blond hair and barely breaking a sweat on his sculpted body.
It infuriated the hell out of you.ย
He blocked every kick, every punch, and when he didn't he wasn't even phased.ย
It made you go harder, to the point where you found yourselves now: almost trying to hurt each other.ย
By then, no one was even preteding to be occupied by anything else, shamelessly staring at the two of you at the center of the mat like Oppenheimer waiting for a bomb to go off.ย
Steve had stopped treating you with the same careful restraint he used with newer recruits. He'd throw you harder into the mats, knock the wind from your lungs, shove you back with enough force to remind you exactly how much stronger he was,ย and you'd borderline playย dirty.
Every hit had a little more weight behind it. Neither willing to back down. Neither willing to lose.
Sam was sitting backwards in a chair,ย chin propped on his arms, watching like he had front row seats to the best show of his life;ย Natasha looked delighted; Bucky looked concerned, brows drawn, arms crossed tight over his chest, like he was trying to decide whether to step in or let you both learn your lesson the hard way.
Steve stood opposite of you, his feet staggered and his arms up, making a "come at me" motion with his fingers.ย His hair was slightly mussed, a damp strand falling forward over his forehead.
"Come to daddy."
The entire room held their breaths, and you saw red.ย
In hindsight, you should've planned a better move than to just charge at him, the strength in your muscles and bones not being able to match his. You should've thought of something tactical, something smart.ย
But alsoโฆ you fucking hated his guts.ย
Which is exactly how you ended up with your cheek and stomach pressed to the sweaty mat, with Steve's whole weight on your back, your wrists pinned between the two of you and his right arm laced under yours and up your back, hand holding your neck down.ย
His hands caught you mid-motion, grip iron-tight as he twisted, using your momentum against you with terrifying ease, his grip locking your body in place, the angle just shy of painful.
"You need to work on your psyche. Mind over matter." His stupid voice right in your ear made goosebumps bloom up your spine, so you did what any reasonable person would do.
You flexed the knee that was between his spread legs hard enough that you hit him square in the balls, giving you the out you needed.ย
You straightened on your feet, pushing damp hair back from your face, a breathless, borderline feral grin breaking across your lipsย as he winced on the mat in pain.ย
"Who's your daddy now?"ย
Your breathless laughter was cut short, Fury's booming voice breaking through any pain or enjoyment present in the room. "You do know domestic violence is not part of your cover story, no?"
Both of your heads whipped in the direction of his voice.ย
He continued to walk in your direction, dropping two folders in front of your feet, and Steve, who was still kneeling down on the mat. "Shower this off. You leave in the morning, lovebirds."
The neighborhood looked like the kind of place where people complained to the HOA because their neighbor's hydrangeas were the wrong shade of blue.
Every lawn was trimmed within an inch of its life, sharp lines cutting through impossibly green grass like someone came out with a ruler every morning.ย
The mailboxes all matchedโsleek, black, expensive-lookingโand every driveway held something polished and obscene:luxury SUV or a car thatย definitelyย cost more than your first apartment.
The houses themselves were enormous. White trim, brick facades, wraparound porches, massive windows that left little room for privacy on a street that looked like it loved to mind every business but its own.ย
You sat in the passenger seat while Steve drove to your home, the undercover file open across your lap like a book while your bare feet rested on the dash.ย
Because annyong Steve was free, and your favorite past time. "No feet on the dash."
You turned a page, ignoring him. "They're staying." You read more of the file. "It's more comfortable that way." Your light blue summer dress was bunched up higher across your thighs, and he did a double take before taking a right turn to your house block.
He sighed. "If we crashโ"
"Just look at the road instead of me and we'll be fine." That made him shift in the driver's seat, straightening his posture and looking ahead, his Adam's apple bobbing in annoyance.
What irritated Steve about you was the fact that these comebacks never even seemed to make sense or be thought of, it just rolled off your tongue, almost just for the plot. And you didn't even care.ย
He didn't even know why you hated him so much in the first place, but he reciprocated the feeling as soon as he saw how insubordinate and bratty you were.ย
Steve sighed the long suffering sigh of a man questioning every life decision that had brought him to this moment. "You're impossible." Muttered under his breath.ย
"You're a Senior Project Manager at your own company,ย honey!" Fake admiration and praise filled your voice. "Oh, you proposed quick! Only a year after our first date." You turned to him, your first real smile plastered on your face. "You're so down bad."
The car came to a stop in your driveway, and Steve turned it off, unclipping his seatbelt. "Put your shoes on, we're here and I feel eyes already."ย
"Bossy." You muttered, doing exactly as he said. As you got out of the car, your voice went up an octave, carrying through the humid summer weather.ย
โReady, honey?โย you asked, slipping the word out effortlessly, like youโd been saying it for years.
He opened the front door for you, making sure whoever was watching heard him just as well, possessive in a way that made your breath hitch before you could stop it.
โAfter you, sweetheart.โ
You'd barely had enough time to figure out which bedroom closet was yours before the doorbell rang.
ding-dong. ding-dong.
You froze in the middle of the bedroom, one hand still gripping a hanger, Steve somewhere down the hall filling a modified cabinet with all sorts of concealed weapons.
You dropped the hanger onto the bed without another thought, smoothing your hands down your dress as you moved. Steve stepped out of the kitchen at the same time, wiping his hands on a dish towel like heโd been doing something domestic instead of checking sightlines and exits.
Ben and Julie Poindexter stood in your porch like they had been plucked straight out of a catalog. They were ones you hoped to make the acquaintance of quickly, as he was the right hand of the big druglord you and Steve were tasked with making an airtight case on.
Years of field work had taught you that monsters were rarely obvious, still, some primitive part of your brain always expected criminals to look like criminals.
Instead, Ben Poindexter looked like somebody who coached Little League and had multiple PTA moms undoing extra buttons in their cardigans to get his attention. Beside him, Julie beamed, already leaning slightly forward like she couldnโt wait to know everything about you.
โOh my goodness,โ she breathed, eyes lighting up. โYou must be the Adlers!โ You felt Steve shift beside you, his hand coming to rest warm on your back with an ease that shouldn't be there in the best of actors.ย
He smiled, and it was aย goodย one.ย The kind that made people relax immediately. The kind that five years ago made youโ
โGuilty,โ he said easily. โFrank.โ Right.ย Frank Adler.ย
He extended his hand and Ben took it immediately, introducing you then.ย โIโm Dex,โ the shorter blond said in return, just as easy. โThis is my wife, Julie.โ
โHi,โ you said, stepping forward like you hadnโt been mentally preparing to dismantle her entire social circle for intel. โItโs so nice to meet you.โ
Sheย lit up.
โOh, you are justย adorable,โ she gushed, reaching out to squeeze your arm like you were already best friends. โWe saw the moving truck this morning and I told Ben, I said, โWe have to go introduce ourselves before everyone else gets to them first.โโ
You faked confusion. "Benโฆ?"
He chuckled lightly in response. "That's me, Iโฆ uhโฆ Ben's really only for her and my parents. Friends call me Dex."
You smiled back in understanding.ย โWe appreciate that,โ he said smoothly. โItโs been a bit of a whirlwind getting settled.โ
โSo,โ Dex cut in, tone casual but eyes observant, โwhat brings you two here?โ There it was. The first test.
You felt Steveโs thumb twitch slightly against your back. A cue , or maybe just instinct. โWork, mostly,โ he said, not missing a beat. โI just transferred to oversee a new branch out here.โ
Julie gasped softly. โOh! Thatโs right, youโre the project manager, right? We heard something about thatโโ
Of course they did.
You tilted your head toward Steve, letting your smile soften just a touch as you looked at him. Pride, affectionโฆ Just enough to sell it.
โHe wonโt say it, but heโs very good at what he does.โ You interjected, turning your sweet smile to your nosy neighbors again.ย
His hand pressed a little more firmly into your back before easing again. โSomeone has to pay the bills,โ he joked lightly, glancing down at you.
"It's a 50/50 relationship," you shot back, nudging his side with your elbow just enough to look playful. "You earn money, and I look pretty in the things it buys." Your hand reached up to scratch the freshly shaven skin of his chin.
โWow,โ Julie breathed, practically vibrating with delight. โYou two areย soย cute.โ
You laughed, soft, a little embarassedโฆ and completely fake. Dex watched that exchange carefully. His smile stayed in place, but his eyes sharpened just a fraction.
โNew couples usually take a while to settle in around here,โ he said, tone still easy. โBut I think you two will fit right in.โ
โWell,โ you said lightly, leaning just a little closer into Steve without thinking about it, โweโre counting on our neighbors to help with that.โ
Julie clasped her hands together. โOh, youย haveย to come to dinner this weekend! Everyoneโs going to be thereโitโs kind of our thing.โ
โWeโd love to,โ Steve said, lightly nodding.
Both of them smiled in satisfaction, briefly saying their goodbyes andย we'll let you get settled.ย As they started to step back, Julie waved enthusiastically. โWelcome to the neighborhood!โ
Integration happened faster and easier than either of you expected. Almost likeโฆย bait.ย
It started with waves.
Small, polite acknowledgments from across drivewaysโneighbors watering already-perfect lawns, women in linen sets pausing mid-walk with their equally curated dogs. At first it was just smiles, quick introductions repeated twice because no one actually listened the first time, or maybe they expected you to slip up.ย
Names, occupations, how long you planned to stay.
Somehow, without either of you saying much at all, your lives had already been filled in for you. SteveโFrankโwas โthe project manager from the city.โ You were โso sweetโ and โadjusting beautifully.โ
It was unsettling.
Steve got pulled in first.
Dex made it look casualโleaning over the fence one late afternoon while Steve pretended to struggle with a hose attachment he absolutely knew how to fix.
โCouple of us head out to the club on Saturdays,โ Dex had said, like it wasnโt a test. Like it wasnโt an invitation into something much bigger. โYou golf?โ
Steve had shrugged, wiping his hands on a towel like the answer didnโt matter. โEnough not to embarrass myself.โ
Dex chuckled. โGood. Fisk hates losing.โ
That was how Steve Rogers found himself in pressed polos and quiet greens, standing under the sun with a man who ran half the city from behind clean hands and cleaner money.
Wilson Fisk didnโt look like a monster either. They never did.
From the sidelines, it wouldโve looked normalโthree men talking shop, trading easy laughs, the softย crackย of a golf ball slicing through the air.
But Steve came home with tension in his shoulders that hadnโt been there before, and eyes that thought too much.
You were integrated differently. Faster, deeper in a sense.ย If you wanna know a man, you need to know the woman in his life first.ย Julie took one look at you and decided you were hers.
Brunch turned into wine nights, which turned into yoga classes and impromptu shopping trips where you learned which women talked too much, which ones listened too closely, and which ones pretended not to notice everything while noticingย everything.
You laughed when you were supposed to, touched arms at the right moments, let yourself be pulled into conversations about renovations and charity events and who was โhaving trouble in their marriageโ this week.
You played the part. Perfectly.
But you also listened. And Julie talked, about Dex, about their marriage, about his schedule, the men he worked with, his "job".
About Fisk in a careful, vague way that told you she knew just enough to be useful and not enough to be dangerous.
Inside the house, however, nothing really changed. You were in bliss whenever Steve was anywhere outside of the five thousand square feet of the house. And in hell when you could hear his footsteps through the hallways.ย
โWhy are your shoes in the middle of the hallway?โย โBecause I took them off.โ
โYou put a gun in the cereal cabinet.โย โIt was concealed.โ
And yet, somewhere in between the arguing and the slammed cabinets and the pointed silences, you moved around each other.
Steve adjusted the cuff of his polo as he stepped out onto the green, the sun warm against the back of his neck, the grass trimmed so perfectly it almost didnโt look real. Somewhere in the distance, a fountain trickled softlyโcontrolled, decorative, intentional.
Everything here was curated, including the people. Dex stood a few feet ahead, already mid-conversation with a Fisk, Steve immediately recognizing his big frame.
โFrank,โ Dex called easily, turning just enough to wave him over. โGlad you made it.โย
Steve walked up at an even pace, shoulders loose, posture relaxed, every movement deliberate in its lack of tension. โWouldnโt miss it.โ
Dex clapped his hands lightly. โLetโs see if you actually know how to swing that thing.โ
The game itself was uneventful on the surface, small talk, a couple of drinks over a few holes, business talk, the kind of conversation that never said anything directly but still managed to reveal everything if you knew how to listen.
Steve pretending to be worse than Fisk at golf remembering what Dex said about him not liking losing.ย
Well, who does?ย He thought.
He missed a shot he couldโve made here and there, fake grimace on his face to help sell the lie, burrow himself deeper in the web.
Dex talked the mostโeasy laughter, casual stories, the kind of man who filled silence before it could become uncomfortable.
Fisk didnโt, he was quieter, more measured. Almost amused.ย
By the ninth hole, Steve could feel the shift, the attention settling more fully onto him. He was past the evaluation phase and onto something else.ย
Fisk set his club aside after a clean shot, stepping back as one of the attendants moved to retrieve it. He didnโt look at Steve immediately, instead adjusting his cufflinks with slow, precise movements.
โBeautiful house youโve got,โ Fisk said finally.
Steve shrugged lightly, taking a swing of his beer. โGot lucky to swoop in right when it went on the market.โ
Fisk hummed. โI find luck tends to favor the well-prepared.โ Steve didnโt respond, Fiskโs gaze lifted then. โYou and your wife settling in well?โ
For some reason, hearing such a dangerous man mention you made him uneasy. And it shouldn't, because he hated you. Steve forced his expression to remain easy. โYeah. She likes it here.โ He paused for a second. โSheโsโฆ adjusting.โ
Fiskโs lips curved slightly. โIs she?โ Steveโs grip on the club in his hand tightened just a fraction.
Dex shifted beside them, glancing between the two, something quieter settling over his usual ease.
โYou know,โ Fisk continued, tone almost conversational, โI take a great interest in the people who choose to live in the neighborhood.โ
Steve tilted his head slightly. โSeems like a lot of effort.โ
Fisk chuckled softly. โIt is if you don't have theโฆ resources.โ
Steve didnโt like the way he said that, didnโt like the weight behind it.
The back nine loosened things.
Or at least, thatโs what it looked like.
Dex got louder, a little more relaxed with each hole, his posture easing into something casual as the game stretched on. Drinks appeared somewhere around the seventhโcold, expensive, handed off by staff who moved like ghostsโand by the tenth, the conversation had shifted.
Way less about business.ย
Dex snorted at something one of the other menโsome hedge fund name Steve hadnโt bothered to rememberโhad said, shaking his head as he lined up his shot.
โIโm telling you,โ the man continued, grinning like he thought he was hilarious, โif youโre doing it right, sheโs not walking straight the next morning.โ
One of the others chimed in with something worse, cruder. The kind of joke that got easy agreement and knowing looks passed around like currency.
Steve didnโt react, just stood there, one hand resting loosely on his club, gaze fixed somewhere out over the green like he wasnโt listening.
โCโmon, Adler,โ Dex called, nudging him lightly with his elbow. โYouโve been real quiet over there.โ
Steve glanced over, trying to seem unbothered. Like he didn't want to roll his eyes at everything coming out of that prick's mouth. โJust listening.โ
โThatโs not how this works,โ the hedge fund guy said with a smirk. โYou gotta contribute. Youโre married, right?โ
โFamiliarity,โ Fisk continued, almost thoughtfully, like he was discussing market trends instead of people, โbreeds a certain ease.โ
โGuess some guys are just more private.โ Steve chimed, moving as to redirect the conversation, walking a couple steps to the next hole. "I donโt feel the need to talk about my wife like that."
Silence fell upon the group for a second, Dex interjected to change the subject quickly, but the way Fisk looked at Steve the rest of the time made he hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
Steve unlocked the kitchen door, toeing his shoes off as soon as he stepped inside. The house was clean, marble countertops reflecting the golden light coming through the curtains.
A candle burned on the center island that made the house smell like a bouquet of fresh flowers, blooming in deepest winter.
The door clocked shit behind him with a soft, controlledย click, as he called outย "Babe?"ย while letting his keys rattle against the marble.
He stepped further into the kitchen, eyes sweeping automaticallyโback door locked, blinds angled just enough, nothing out of place. The cabinet heโd modified earlier sat closed, unassuming, hiding everything it needed to.
He called out for you again,ย "Sweetheart?",ย feet padding into the house and when he got to the bottom of the stairs, he heard the shower running on.ย
Steve's mind kept replaying the interactions he'd had that day, how Fisk seemed to have too much knowledge of his dynamic with you to not haveโ
Of course.
A man like Fisk wouldn't just intentionally have a blind side.ย
The motherfucker had surveillance on your house.ย
Inย your house.ย
The sound got clearer and clearer as he moved up the stairs.ย The hallway stretched ahead, quiet and sun-dimmed,ย and then right outside of the bathroom door, steam curling underneath it. Steve paused just outside it, his hand hovering near the frame, his head tilting slightly as he listened.
You were humming, soft and absentminded.
Like you werenโt in the middle of a mission that had just taken a very sharp turn.
He exhaled softly through his nose, dragging a hand down his face, fingers catching briefly on the tension sitting heavy there.
He should wait, he knew he should. Whatever he had to say could wait ten minutes.
Five.
Hell, two.
But the words Fisk had saidโhadย impliedโsat in his chest like a weight that refused to settle. So if Fisk had creepily put surveillance in your home like Steve was 98% sure he had, you were gonna have to roll with the punches.
Steam hit him immediately, warm and thick, fogging the edges of his vision for half a second before it cleared.ย
Stripping his shirt, kicking off the rest of his clothes in a blur of motion that wouldโve felt ridiculous under any other circumstance.
He walked into the shower, watching you let the water trickle over you, over your face, your neck, your chest, and he thanked every God he could think of that his body was cooperating and he did not have more than a half-hard on right then and there.
Which meant that you finished rinsing your shampoo off and opened your eyes to find a very, very naked Steve Rogers encapsulated by the shower stall glass around you.ย
With you.
All naked, and very wet, and very naked, andโ
"Ahh!"ย You shrieked in surprise, stumbling back half a step, water splashing over him as your hands came up instinctively. "What the fโ" Steve put his index finger on his lips with one hand, the other motioning to his ear and out.
We're being listened to.
"Honey,"ย You immediately switched into your undercover tone, "you scared the crap out of me!"
Steve stepped closer, couldn't risk his voice being any louder than absolutely necessary to get you the information right then and there.ย
His frame in comparison to yours felt even bigger now, steam curling around him like vines. You'd blame the way your nipples hardened at the sight on the water.ย
โFisk,โ he whispered, barely audible over the spray. โHe knows somethingโs off. Pretty sure weโre wired. The house is.โ
Your breath hitched.
Absolutely having nothing to do with the fact that you were trying very hard not to stare at hisโ "Where?"
"Everywhere." He confirmed.ย
Water ran down both of you in steady streams, heat curling between your bodies, steam thickening the air until everything felt too close.
โWell,โ you murmured, louder now, just enough for anyone listening to catch it, your tone dipping into something softer, more playful, โnext time, maybe knock?โ
Steve huffed out a quiet breath that could almost pass for a laugh, his forehead dipping closer to yours, but not touching, droplets of water falling from his hair onto you.
โDidnโt think youโd mind.โ One of your hands braced lightly against his chest, the other gripping his arm as if for balance.
Your hand slid up to the nape of his neck, pulling the hair there enough to make him hiss. โOh, I mind,โ you said lightly, your fingers threading just a little deeper into the short hair at the nape of his neck. โYouโre lucky I like you.โ
You were pretty good atโฆ faking it.ย
Night settled over the house smoothly, the sun bleeding into deep indigo slowly and surely until stars littered the sky and you all you could hear was the fair sound of nature beyond the glass.
The neighborhood dimmed in stagesโporch lights flicking on one by one, warm squares of yellow glowing through wide, uncovered windows. Somewhere down the street, laughter carried faintly. A dog barked once, then twice, then went quiet again.
As your brain processed the information Steve had given you, you moved through the motions anyway.ย
Teeth brushed. Face washed. Lights turned off and on in the right order. The kind of routine that would look normal from the outside, mundane and unremarkable to anyone paying attention.
The thought sat in the back of your mind, somewhat panicked and loud, but also a constant, steady pressure.ย
You dried your hands slowly on a towel, eyes flicking briefly to the mirror. Your reflection stared backโhair dried and silky, skin still warm from the shower, expression carefully neutral.
Steve stood near the dresser, back half-turned to you, pulling a t-shirt over his head. The fabric stretched sinfโย normallyacross his shoulders before falling into place, softening the sharp lines of him into something moreโฆ domestic.
You watched him through the mirror without meaning to, picking up a book, turning on his bedside lamp, and crawling under the covers of your bed, letting the light comforter rest on his legs and hips while he flipped through the pages with his back resting against his pillows and the headboard.
You bit your lip, thoughts blooming fast and messy under your skull, and flicked the lights in the bathroom off, walking towards your side of the bed.ย
Your short camisole shifted through the air as you moved, light and soft, brushing against your thighs. Steve's eyes immediately clocking your bare legs before he forced them onto the words in front of him.ย
You laid onto your side and closed the distance between you in one smooth motion, your body fitting against his side like that's where it was always supposed to be.ย
Your arm slid across his waist, your cheek pressed lightly against the plane of his pecs, and you felt the very warm, solid, real muscle of him under your face go completely still.ย
Not in any subtle way, you could feel the exact moment his brain short-circuited.
He turned his face just enough to look down and meet your gaze. His expression screamed an unfilteredย "what the hell?"while yours softly saidย "we have to sell it."
He shifted, turning just enough so he wasnโt facing away from you anymore, his arm coming upโhesitant for half a secondโbefore settling around you, his hand resting on your forearm, thumb tracing soothing patterns on the soft, moisturized skin.ย
As you laid there, the cogs in your brain turned. You bit the inside of your cheek lightly,ย the more he believes it, the quicker we get out.ย
You moved forward,ย your hand pressed against his chest, using him for leverage as you pushed yourself up, swinging one leg over his hips in a smooth, deliberate motion until you were straddling him.
The poor book slid uselessly to rest on the mattress on the other side of his body. You nuzzled your face into his neck, pretending to pepper kisses on the skin there, and Steve stiffened up.
His hands instinctively came up, not grabbing or even stopping you, just hovering at your waist like he didnโt know where they were allowed to go.
Your mouth lingered by his pulse point just long enough to make it convincing before you spoke, your breath hot against his skin. "Play along." You whispered.
You felt the tension in himโevery muscle coiled, controlled, restrained in a way that had nothing to do with the mission and everything to do with the position youโd just put him in.
โSweetheart,โ he said, louder now, his tone shifting seamlessly, to something warmer, rougher, like it belonged to someone else. โYou trying to kill me?โ
From the outside, it sounded like a joke. A husband amused by his wife.
You tilted your head, letting your lips ghost just below his ear. โYou just been working so much lately,โ you murmured, just loud enough to carry.
His grip on you flexed, and he leaned into it.ย
โI know, baby, I know,โ he said, voice dropping, threading something you hadnโt heard from him since he had your face pressed into a sparring mat through it as his hands settled more firmly at your hips, anchoring you there. โIโm sorry, sweetheart.โ
Your stomach flipped, shameful heat pooling low in your core even though you tried to ignore it and call it by a different name.ย
His fingers pressed just slightly, grounding, guiding, selling the illusion with an ease that made your pulse stutter.
Steve moved, fast as always, one second you were on top of him, the next your back hit the mattress, making it dip hard beneath you as he flipped you with practiced ease, your breath catching as his weight settled above you, caging you in without quite touching.
His face dipped toward yours, close enough that your noses almost brushed.
โWhat youโre doing,โ he murmured against your ear, his breath warm, controlled, โis reckless.โ
Your fingers curled slightly into his shirt, heart beating too fast, and you tilted your head just enough to whisper back, your tone soft and teasing, so low he almost didn't hear it. โSo is getting caught.โ
You tilted your neck up, and your lips connected with his.
It had been weeks of little pecks, prim and proper kisses in front of your neighbors, just enough to sell it on the outside.ย
Holding his face in your hands and actually kissing Steve Rogers felt like a completely different experience.ย
His tongue licked into your mouth with an intention you never really expected from Steve. Specially a Steve that was faking it. Your hands roamed the plane of his shoulders, trying to make it seem like the actual rustling of sheets one would expect of a couple who was going toโ
He should really take this shirt off.ย
And so your hands went to the hem of his white cotton shirt, pulling it up. Steve reluctantly let you take it off of him, leaving him only in the grey boxers that let you see he wasn't faking that much.ย
"Oh my God," You whispered.ย "Are you serious?"ย That was more of a hiss. Was he seriously getting hard right now?
"I know," He whispered back, annoyed, frustrated, "I know.ย Just shut up about it."
Oh.
He wanted you to shut up about it. He wanted you toโ
The petty part of your brain took over, and before you couldn't think of a less reckless thing to do, you squeezed your legs tighter around him, bringing his bulge flush against your clothed pussy.ย
"O-ohโ" Steve was surprised, not about the pettiness, but at the action itself. You bit your lip, almost proud of yourself, and tilted your hips up.
That earned you a scolding look.ย
"Mmm," you breathed, just loud enough to carry, your voice shifting instantly to a soft, breathy, higher pitched version of yourself.ย "Fuck, baby, right there."
Steve's ears were ringing. Mostly because he didn't know what to do with his hard cock rubbing up and down against you. โRelax,โ you murmured against his jaw, barely moving your lips. โYou sound like youโre filing paperwork.โ
He huffed softly, turning it into something that passed. โMaybe I like paperwork,โ he muttered.
You scoffed. โYou do not.โ
โYou donโt know that.โ He whined softly against you.ย
"You need to actually move your hips, Steve. Video needs to look like you're fucking your wife." You whispered in his ear.ย
It's not like he couldn't feel how wet you were, slick pressing through the cotton of your panties and onto his underwear, darkening a spot there.ย
โYouโre unbelievable,โ he breathed low, close to your ear.
โSay it louder,โ you shot back quietly.
โYouโre unbelievable,โ he repeated, louder, tone shifting, like it meant something entirely different now.
Your heels dug into his ass cheeks, pulling him closer and closer to you, and closer and closer to the edge.ย
You could feel the length of him twitch with each pass of his hips, and you pictured the leaking head of him making a mess out of the inside of his boxers, precum slicking him all over.ย
โOkayโโ he muttered quickly under his breath, breaking the moment before it could stretch too far. โWe need a time frame. We canโt justโkeep going forever.โ
โTwo minutes,โ you whispered. โMake it believable.โ
โTwo minutes?โ he echoed, actually offended. โThatโs insulting.โ
The thought of it sent heat down your core. His face was buried in your neck, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as your hands threaded through his hair. "Talk about me." Another perfectly placed thrust that nudged your clit. "'bout how I feel."
Steve grinded his teeth like he was fighting a mental battle between letting himself be consumed by this moment, and being proper.ย
You nudged him again with your heel.ย
"Nice and tight, sweetheart." He let his voice carry, surprisingly unwavering for how close he was. "Never get enough of your pussy."
What in the fuckity fuck?
Steve?
He almost said your name,ย your very real name, too lost in himself, letting his rhythm build up much too realistically, his thrusts deeper, the bulge now rubbing and nudging your clothed entrance as well.ย
Your could hear the sound of wet fabric shifting, your panties getting caught and letting one lip slip out of safety and closer to Steve's leaking cock.ย
"Frank," You said loudly, trying to catch his attention without success. "Frank." You tried again, more stern, being met with the same squeezed-shut eyes you tried to get an answer from. You dropped your voice low, hushed like a secret. "Steve."
That made him open his eyes, powder blue irises staring at you as his thursts hit a spot that had him moaning, stuttering over his own breath.
And spilling all inside his boxers, looking right into your eyes.ย
His hips stuttered, almost as if his body wanted to milk itself dry, and his breathing slowed.ย
You were speechless, big wide eyes looking up at him, genuinely not knowing what to say.
Both of you stared at each other in shock, horror, confusion as to why it felt so good to do that without someone who managed to get under your skin without even trying.ย
You stayed like that until you felt the warm trickle of his seed seep through the cotton of his boxers and onto the front of your panties.
Steve dropped back to his side of the bed, and both of you avoided each other's gaze, just staring at the ceiling.ย
"Are weโ"
โโฆgo to sleep,โ you muttered.
Whatever Fisk needed proof of, seemingly he got it, since both you and Steve got invited the the biggest 4th of July bash of the neighborhood.ย
Right at the belly of the beast.ย
The whole backyard looked like something out of a magazine.ย
String lights draped across the perimeter, glowing warm against the deep navy of the night sky, fireworks already starting to crackle faintly in the distance.ย
The lawn stretched wide and immaculate, dotted with clusters of people holding drinks in delicate glasses, laughter spilling easily between them like nothing in the world could touch this place.
It was loud, busy, perfect, and underneath it allโ wrong.
Steve had light wash jeans and a light blue polo on, you had a strapless summer dress and one of his linen shirts on, the shirt unbuttoned to give the air of a casual outing.ย
You stood near one of the long tables, fingers loosely wrapped around a Moscow Mule you hadnโt touched, your eyes scanning without looking like you were scanning. Steve was across the yard, pulled into a circle of men near the grill, one of them mid-story, the others laughing at something you couldnโt quite hear from this distance.
And thereย sheย was.
Blonde, tall, andย much too interested in yourโย Steve.
Her hand landed on his arm like sheโd been waiting for an excuse, your eyes narrowed at her as you shoved a piece of salami and cheese into your mouth.
โThat's Sharon.โ Julieโs voice chimed in beside you, far too cheerful for how observant she actually was. โShe's new. Came to stay with her aunt a bit, they live a few strees back. Divorced. Which means sheโsโโ
โโlooking,โ you finished lightly, before finally taking a sip of your drink like you hadnโt already clocked every detail.
Julie laughed. โExactly.โ
Your eyes flicked back to Steve. He hadnโt moved away, hadnโt stepped back, hadnโt evenย noticed.
Of course he hadnโt.
He was listeningโreally listeningโto whatever the man next to him was saying, nodding slightly, relaxed in that effortless way that made people lean in closer without thinking about it.
โOh, donโt worry,โ she said, lowering her voice just enough to feel conspiratorial. โIf he's anything like Dex, he's clueless. They donโt even realize when theyโre being flirted with.โ
You hummed softly. "He is clueless, alright."
โHeโs very charming,โ Julie added, watching you now instead of them. โFrank, I mean.โ
Your lips curved. โHe has his moments.โ
Julie giggled, and you finished downing your drink, making your way to him, wrapping a hand around his perfectly sculped bicep and turning on your smile to the sweetest setting possible.ย
His body reacted immediately, adjusting to your touch like it always belonged there. His gaze dropped to you, surprise flickering for half a second before smoothing into something softer.
โHey,โ he said, one hand coming up to rest at your hip without thinking about it.
โHi,โ you replied, tilting your head up toward him, your smile warm in a way that felt almost too real. โSorry,โ you said sweetly, not sounding sorry at all. โAm I interrupting?โ
She blinked, then smiled tightly back at you. โNot at all.โ Steveโs hand pressed slightly into your hip, a silent question that you answered it by leaning just a fraction closer into him.
โWe were just talking about the neighborhood,โ she continued.
โWere you?โ you asked, your tone light, but your grip on Steve tightening just enough to be felt.
โOhโyes,โ she said, glancing briefly at him. โFrank was just telling us about his work.โ
โMm,โ you hummed, eyes flicking up to his. โHe works too much.โ
Steveโs brows lifted slightly. โOh, I do?โ
โYou do,โ you said simply, sighing longingly, your fingers sliding absently against his side like it was second nature. โI barely see you anymore.โ
Sharon laughed softly. โThatโs a shame.โ Steve lifted the beer up to his lips and took a swing.
โIt is,โ you agreed, smiling again. โBut I make sure he makes up for it.โ
Steve choked on his drink. Actually choked. Coughed once, quickly covering it with a laugh that didnโt quite hide the surprise.
His hand flexed at your hip. โYeah,โ he said, voice dropping just slightly as he looked down at you, something new threading through it. โI do.โ
For a moment it didn't feel like pretending, but it also didn't feel real. It felt like a limbo much too similar to five years ago, when he first recruited you into SHIELD by accident.ย
FIVE YEARS EARLIER
Colombia had been too hot. The humid, muggy weather made your skin sticky, a sheen coat of sweat all over your arms and legs, even though you were only wearing a white tanktop and a flowy, maxi floral skirt.ย
Music was bleeding from open windows, people crowding narrow streets, making it the kind of place where mistakes didnโt just cost you the mission.
They cost you everything.
Youโd been handling it just fine, up until you werenโt. The intel had been wrong. Or incomplete. Or leaked.
You didnโt know which yetโonly that the second you stepped into that dim, crowded cantina, something in your gut twisted. Too many eyes, too many men pretending to drink, too many sharp ears and even sharper looks.ย
You were planning an exit strategy, a way to get out of here with as few scratches and as many of these men killed. Mid counting how many thing you could use as a weapon, in walked a picture perfect specimen.ย
Muscles everywhere, blond hair lightened even more by the sun, the faintest sunburn across his nose and cheeks making his blue eyes stand out more.ย
You turned slightly, lifting your drink to your lips like you were just another woman trying to cool off, not someone seconds away from deciding how many people she might have to kill.
He clocked the men immediately.ย
And then he clocked you. His broad frame faked a smile at you and stepped quickly to stand beside you at the bar, hand resting on your hip.
โDonโt,โ he muttered under his breath, pretending to try to get the bartender's attention.
โDonโt what?โ you shot back just as quietly, adjusting your sunglasses on your head like you were annoyed at them and happy to see him, not seconds away from being cornered.
โTheyโre looking for someone,โ he said.
โI know.โ A beat where he leaned down to whisper in your ear.
โTheyโre closing exits.โ
And you responded through gritted teeth and a smile. โI noticed.โ You let your body rest closer to his, feeling the heat radiating off of him.
Outside, thunder and lightning started, and a summer storm came pouring down.ย
โBabe,โ you said, loud enough to carry, tilting your head up at him like you were teasing. โYou said one drink.โ
He leaned into you, his hand sliding from your waist to your lower back, pulling you closer in a way that felt practiced.
โYeah?โ he shot back easily. โThought you wanted to see more of the place.โ
โOh, I do,โ you laughed lightly, fingers curling into his shirt. โJustโฆ from inside a bedroom window right now." You leaned in closer, lowering your voice just enough to make it look intimate, like you were sharing something private instead of tracking his every movement.
โRelax your shoulders,โ you murmured.
He huffed softlyโalmost a laugh, almost something elseโand adjusted just slightly, his grip tightening at your lower back like he was settling into the role instead of fighting it.
A beat passed between youโquick, sharp, chargedโand then he leaned in closer, his mouth ghosting just along your temple.
โStormโs our out,โ he whispered. โWe gotta go.โ
โCome on,โ you said, tugging gently at his shirt, turning your body into his as thunder cracked loud enough to rattle the windows. โI am not ruining my hair for this.โ
โTragic,โ he murmured, letting you pull him toward the back hallway.
The rain hit hard the second you stepped out of the main roomโheavy, sudden, loud enough to drown out most of the noise behind you. The narrow corridor smelled like damp wood and cheap liquor, dimly lit and barely used.
Perfect.
Your hand stayed fisted in his shirt as you stumbled slightlyโjust enough to sell itโas he caught you, his arm tightening instinctively around your waist.
โCareful, sweetheart.โ he said, louder now, for anyone who might still be listening. โYouโre gonna slip.โ
The back door burst open under his hand.
Rain poured down in sheets, warm and relentless, soaking the edges of your skirt instantly as you both stepped out into the alley behind the cantina.
Steve looked around to make sure no one followed,ย he kept you closer than necessary as you moved, your bodies angled into each other like you were shielding yourselves from the storm instead of disappearing into it.
One block, then another, until you were far away and safe in the back alley of the Sofitel. Your clothes were soaked, as were his, your shirt basically see through,ย you kept moving, pulling him down the short hallway and into the first unlocked door you foundโsome storage room or unused guest space, it didnโt matter.
The door shut behind you with a soft click. Steve walked in last, and you didn't put distance between you two, though right now looking at him through wet lashes you wish you did.
His eyes reflected the gloomy sky outside, his lips were pink and plump, and you felt yourself being drawn closer and closer to him, as did he.ย
The storm outside cracked again, lightning flashing briefly through the thin curtains, illuminating the space in stark white for half a second, loud thunder taking you out of your trance, Steve jerking away like he was burned.ย
"I, uhโฆ I think we lost them." Your voice was shaky and unsure.ย
โNot bad,โ he added, quieter now, his eyes flicking over your face like he was reassessing something.
You scoffed lightly. โHigh praise.โ
PRESENT
โFireworks are about to start,โ someone called from across the yard.
And just like that, the moment broke, and your attentions turned to the mission at hand: while everyone is distracted, get into Fisk's office and copy all of his intel.ย
Steve leaned down slightly as people shifted away in the direction of the fireworks, his lips brushing near your ear, voice low. โYouโre laying it on thick.โ
โAm I?โ you murmured back, sly smirk playing on your lips.
โA little.โ
You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. "You should go for the office. I'll keep watch."
Steve looked at you like he wanted to say something, but nodded and snuck away, your eyes immediately making sure all persons of interest were accounted for andย notย in the office.ย
The party swelled around you.
Fireworks cracked overhead in bursts of red and gold, laughter spilling across Fiskโs perfectly manicured lawn, glasses clinking, music humming low beneath it all.
Steve had been gone for about five minutes when you noticed Dex was gone mid conversation with Claire and her husband Matthew. You saw the little flop of blonde hair make its way into the house and your blood ran cold.ย
Steve.
โIโm gonna grab another drink,โ you said lightly, lifting your empty glass as proof, bee-lining up the stairs on the porch and to the kitchen.ย
You moved like you werenโt tracking footsteps that werenโt yours, counting seconds, mapping distance in your head.
You slipped inside through the side door, heels soft against polished floors, your breath steady even as your pulse kicked harder.
You moved faster, turning the corner just in time to see the office door slightly ajar, light spilling out onto the hallway, and footsteps approaching from the opposite direction.
You pushed the door open and slipped inside, Steve standing by the big mahogany table with a thumbdrive pluggesd into the desktop, downloading everything.
โWhatโโ
โDex,โ you cut him off, already crossing the room. โComing.โ His expression shifted instantly, worry, anxiety, combat.ย
A shadow passed the crack of the door and you closed the distance between you, pushing yourself to sit on top of the table and pulled Steve to stand between your legs.ย Your hands grabbed his shirt, yanking him down toward you hard enough to make him stumble.
He exhaled harshly the second your lips touched, tasting the vanilla macadamia flavor of your lipgloss. Your tongue licked into his mouth and one of his hands found the plane of your back, the other bracing against the desk behind you as he backed you further into it, the impact soft but enough to sell it.
โMmโโ you exhaled softly, the sound slipping out before you could stop it.
Your fingers thread through his hair as you sighed against him, losing yourself in the cedarwood of his cologne, the taste of beer on his tongue, andโย
The door creaked open lgithly with someone's breathy "oh." coming through at the sight.
You didn't pull away, didn't even flinch.ย If anything, you leaned in more, your body pressing fully into his, your mouth lingering just long enough to make the momentย undeniable.
You heard a the sound of someone clearing their throat, and that made both of you break apart.ย Your lips brushed his once more before you turned your head, like youโd just noticed her. โOhโโ you said, a little breathless, but smiling.
โSharon,โ your eyes widened slightly when you looked behind you, a flush creeping into your expression like youโd been caught.
Her gaze drifted from his hands on you to the hem of your summer dress, pulled up and draped high on your thighs, then up to your hands in his hair and Steve's face โ his expression a mix of very confused, flustered, and fucked out.ย
Steve cleared his throat, stepping back just slightly, like he was trying to recover something that had already slipped.
โWe were justโโ
โโbusy,โ you finished easily, sliding off the desk but not moving far from him.
โโฆright,โ she said after a second, her lips pressing into something that wasnโt quite a smile. "Well, enjoy the, uhโฆ the party."
You stifled a laugh, biting your lip, as she walked away leaving the door open behind her. You hopped off the desk as Steve got his brain working again.ย
โWhat the hell was that?โ His voice cut through it, low and sharp.
You shrugged. "Saved your ass, you're welcome." You smoothed the hem of your dress against your thighs and walked around the desk, making your way out the door as Steve hushedly called out for you, swiming the thumb drive into his pocket before following you out of the house.ย
Your heels hit the pavement in sharp, even beats, your jaw locked, your eyes fixed straight ahead like if you didnโt look back, he wouldnโt follow.
Fuck him and his long legs that caught up to you as soon as you reached your lawn.ย
You stormed into your kitchen, pushing the door closed quicky to slam it behind you, but making it hit Steve on the shoulder as he crowded the space behind you. โHeyโโ he pushed still, stepping closer. โNo, seriously. What was that?โ
You still gave him nothing, your jaw tightened. You stood with your back to the kitchen island, fingers gripping the marble, biting your own cheek. Your gaze stayed anywhere but him.
โThat wasnโt about getting caught,โ he said. โYou knew sheโโ Then it seemed to dawn on him.ย ย โYou kissed me to make her jealous.โ His voice was incredulous, almost like he solved a decade long mystery right then and there. "Youย were jealous."
You scoffed, still not meeting his eye. "Jealous? Overย you? Pleaโ"
He crowded you even more now, bending down to look for your gaze and force you to meet his, sly smile playing on his lips. "You were jealous."
You huffed, finally looking into his eyes, sunlight playing on his face making the blue just a tad lighter. Steve had his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, almost waiting for a response from you.ย
For what it felt like a second and a day all at once, your brain went numb.ย
And then your hands were on each side of his face, bringing his lips to crash into yours.ย
Steve's lips were warm against your mouth in the same way they were minutes ago. He stepped forward, towering over you making you tilt your head up to keep the kiss going, his hands grabbing your hips as he pressed you against the counter.ย
He licked into your mouth and your hands fell to the nape of his neck, his shoulders, and finally his arms.
Steve leaned over, pushing you back further, until you had no more oxygen to burn in your lungs and you broke the kiss, making him kiss your jaw, below your ear, and down your neck. "You had no reason to be jealous, you know."
He grinded his hips against yours, letting you feel the length of him hardening by the minute. "'M not jealous." You felt underwater, dizzy, borderline having fuzzies in your vision.ย
Steve chuckled against your neck, the warm breath making shivers run down your spine, his hands dropping to graze outside of your thighs. "Mmhmm." His right hand brushed over your thigh and made it way to your core, tickling the skin of your inner thigh.ย
His fingers quickly found the wet spot on the front of your underwear, kissing his way back towards your lips. When he pressed deep circled into it, he felt you sigh into his mouth.
"Steveโฆ People might seeโฆ"
"Don't care" he pressed his fingers harder, until your hips were bucking to get more friction, and you were whining against him. Words came muffled against your mouth. "Not jealous, huh? Didn't want me a single bit, right?"
You scoffed despite youself, "You're the one that came into your pants the other day."ย
That did it.ย
Skin to skin. His rough fingers sliding through your soaked slit, dragging your arousal across your folds, teasing you right at the entrance. You broke off mid-sentence, a soft whimper catching in your throat.
His thumb easily found your clit, and one of your hands squeezed around his bicep while the other pulled at the hair at the nape of his neck, your moans getting breathier and breathier by the minute.
His fingers thrusted in and out of you bringing you to an edge so close you could taste it, letting out little pants by the crook of his neck, inflating Steve's ego, making more blood rush south. "Wanna try that again?"
He curled them just right, your slick coating his knuckles as your hips twitched against his hand.
Your head fell back, lips parting on a desperate moan.ย "N-not jealousโฆ" through gritted teeth, making him click his tongue.ย
"Suit yourself." And just like that, his fingers were gone, slick mess on your thighs and an unsatisfied beast inside of you.
"Steve, what theโ"
He pulled away the slightest bit and bent down, lacing his arm around your legs and throwing you over his shoulder, walking away in the direction of the stairs.
Steve nudged your bedroom door open once you got upstairs and flopped you down on the bed, making you bounce on the mattress.
He hovered over you, settling between your legs and rubbing the heat of him against you, while one if his hands snuck to the back of your dress and pulled the zipper down. He pulled the clothing item down your body as he kissed the same path, and soon you were only in his shirt and a thong.
Your legs opened to accommodate him further, thighs falling to your sides, and he slotted himself chest to mattress, lips barely an inch away from your pussy. Steve kissed your inner thigh once, then again, and your fingers threaded through his hair.ย
"She's wetter than that night," He spoke softly, but his voice had a dark tone to it, blue eyes staring up at you. "Can't blame me from coming in my boxers when," and a bite to your flesh. "you were grinding a wet spot onto me,ย honey."
Fuck him and that nickname.ย
His middle finger came to curl beyond the hem, pulling the sticky wet fabric down your thighs, and both of his thumbs spread your lips, watching your hole clench around nothing.ย
His gaze once again reached yours, almost asking for permission.ย
You didn't seem to be able to find it in you to say anything, not a single word but a quiet "Please." leaving your lips.ย
The second his tongue touched your slit, you were all the way back in that mission in Colombia. Wet, horny, and almost begging him.
At the first taste of you, one would think Steve got possessed, quickly settling further into the mattress and wrapping his arms around your thighs, holding them open. "F-fuck, Steveโ"
He groaned against you, the vibration going through you like electricity through water. His tongue traced your entrance, nose nudging your clit, and your back arched off the bed slightly, pushing your hips closer to his face.
Steve's fingers pressed against the tops of your thighs with bruising strength, not that you minded.ย
Not at all.ย
He licked zigzag patterens up and down your slit, and then would circle your clit with his tongue, sucking the nerves into his mouth and flicking it. "O-ohย my God."
He chuckled into you, "Stop squirming."ย
Like you could help it. Like it was your damn fault he let Sharon touch him and flirt with him and all but forced you to make sure everyone bought this sham of a marriage.ย
"Easierโย fuck me,ย easier said than done, Rogers." Your nails scratched deeper into his scalp.
Steve angled his head differently so he could tense his tongue and fuck you while his thumb moved from your thigh to rub quick circles onto your clit.ย
Your thighs closed around his head, eyes squeezing shut as you heard him breathe heavy against you. Steve's other hand landed on your breast, kneading the skin there, pinching and pulling a nipple drawing a mewl out of you.ย
"Steve, Steve, I'mโ fuck, I'm gonnaโ"
You really shouldn't have told him, though he'd know you were close judging by the little flutters of your walls around his tongue.ย
He pulled away harshly, chin slick and lips swollen, his hair a mess from you running your fingers through it.ย
He stood by the foot of the bed, stripping down to nothing watching your dumbfounded fucked out expression. Your hair was matted, your nipples were hard, and there was a wet spot on the white comforter under you.ย
In front of you, though, stood 230lbs of pure, unadultered, perfectly sculped by God, blond 100% American Prime Steve Rogers.ย
Standing naked, tall, thick and proud.
And hard.
Your mouth salivated at the sight, looking at the leaking head of him appear and disappear inside his fist with each slick stroke he gave himself. Steve caught your ankle with his other hand, and pulled you to the edge of the bed, your toes touching the soft carpet of the bedroom.
He turned you around, fingers gripping the linen of his shirt you had on, dragging it down your arms but not over your wrists, twisting the fabric around his own fist.ย
And just like that, you were face and shoulders down on the mattress with your wrists tied behind you, feeling him rub the head of his cock up and down your puffy slit, coating himself in your wetness.ย
Steve heard a muffled whine from you, any words being impacted by the fabric of the bedding, "What was that, sweetheart?" He leaned over you, the tip of him notching just a smidge further.ย
You turned your head to the side. "Steve, pleaseโฆ"
He clicked his tongue again. "No, you didn't want me, remember? Think I shouldn't even be doing this to you."
He motioned to pull out and you whined louder. "Sheโ she was allย o-over youโฆ"ย Tears pricked your eyes from the pressure in your chest, from the ache between your legs, from the desperation of being kept at the edge.ย
โSteve, please put it inโฆโ
"Yeah?" He gave you the cue to keep going, pushing in unbearably slow and barely any.ย
You nodded against the mattress. "Pissed me off." You gulped. "Please, please don't leave me like thisโฆ"
"All you had to do was stop being such a brat about it."
And then he thrust in enough to knock the air out of your lungs. The squelch of his cock pushing into you was obscene. And in your mind every inch he pushed after that thrust had one though going through your head:
There's more?!
"Oh Godโฆ"
That made Steve chuckle. "Just me, baby."
"Isโ is it all in?" Your voice trembled, and if you had a mirror you'd see Steve's evil smirk as he dragged your wrists down to where your bodies connected, arching your back and hurting you with the stretch, only to wrap your delicate hands around what was left of him.
"Barely half." He grunted.
You whimpered, both in fear and anticipation, and Steve took the queue to push the rest of the way through, until your hand was flat on his pelvis, and then he let you rest against the mattress again.ย
"So fucking good." He gave a couple tentative thrusts. "Can feel you gripping me like you don't wanna let me go."
You moaned at the feel of him hitting that sweet spot inside of you, making your eyes roll. "Soโ hah! Good, Steveโฆ"
After he felt your pussy get used to the size of him, that when he really stopped playing nice.ย
You could feel every ridge of him, every vein, the length of him pulsing and pulsing inside of you, throbbing against the spongy spot that made you see stars.
โSteve, please, please let meโโ
Another harsh thrust interrupted you. โTell me the truth then.โ
You whimpered. The bastard was really going to make you admit it.
As you tried to think through it, brainless as you were, he slowed down, and down, until you could feel the pulse of his cock inside of you just as he could feel your walls flutter around him.
You whimpered, cheeks blushing at the thought. โI was jealous! I was jealous, okay?!โ You pushed your hips into him, chasing friction harder, deeper.
โShe thought she could have you andโ andโโ He picked up the pace, your brain mush as your neck strained to keep your voice from being muffled. โAnd youโre myโ Ohโ oh my God!โ
โYeah?โ Steve leaned over you, fingers finding your clit with ease. โIโm your what?โ
You could cry. You could cry right noโ oh you had tears streaming from your eyes onto the bedding. โSteveโฆโ
His eyes rolled to the back of his head.
โThatโs right, Iโm your Steve.โ His fingers picked up speed as did his hips, lips kissing your shoulder blade. โCome for me, pretty girl. Come all over my cock.โ
โMmmmngghhhโโ your vision went white, your body clenching tight around him and pulsing, as your moans got drowned out outside by the fireworks still going.
Steve slammed his hips deeper into you, to the point of almost painful, muttering curse words in sequence of โfuck, fuck, fuck.โ until you felt him spill thick ropes of cum inside of you, filling you up until it dripped onto the floor.
As you both caught your breaths, you heard the wet schlick of him pulling out, dropping himself on the bed with a bounce.
After a minute, you spoke. "There's gonna be so much paperwork to explain all this..."
He looked at an imaginary watch on his wrist, turning to you with that boyish smile of his, sheen coat of sweat on his chest and hairline. โGot time for a couple more rounds before all that. You tapped out?โ
You smirked at him, using your arms to push yourself up, hands on his chest for leverage as you straddled him, slick pussy on top of his hardening cock.
โI could do this all day, Cap.โ
final thoughts: this started as me and Maddie just thirsting over the shower scene, and then... yeah... heh
BBL this was everything i was dreaming it would be and more oh my godddddd. enemies to lovers with steve is one of my favourite tropes bc heโs so golden boy but heโs also a massive stubborn dick at times and so easy to rage bait, and you got him perfectly!!
i also loved fury in this so much having absolutely no time for their nonsense lmfaooo ๐ญ
โTwo minutes,โ you whispered. โMake it believable.โ
โTwo minutes?โ he echoed, actually offended. โThatโs insulting.โ
i already screamed about this with you in the DMs when you let me have a sneak peak but AHHHHHH it made me cackle again this time so i had to highlight it again, i can actually picture that offended little furrow of his brow that he gets as he says this. YOU KNOW THAT MAN GOES ROUNDSSSS
Steve leaned over, pushing you back further, until you had no more oxygen to burn in your lungs and you broke the kiss, making him kiss your jaw, below your ear, and down your neck. "You had no reason to be jealous, you know.โ
AHHHHHHHHHSHEBDNAJAJAJ PLEAKKK need him need him need him sauuurrr badly
"She's wetter than that night," He spoke softly, but his voice had a dark tone to it, blue eyes staring up at you. "Can't blame me from coming in my boxers when," and a bite to your flesh. "you were grinding a wet spot onto me,ย honey."
PUSSY PRONOUNS โผ๏ธโผ๏ธโผ๏ธโผ๏ธโผ๏ธ fawwkkk steve when his mouth gets filthy is a menace. and I KNOW thatโs the man who grew up in brooklyn talking
In front of you, though, stood 230lbs of pure, unadultered, perfectly sculped by God, blond 100% American Prime Steve Rogers.ย
came just picturing this GOD I NEED HIM SAURR BAD FRAN PLEAAAKKKK. this is the perfect way to describe him GIMME GIMME GIMME
AHHHHH this was such a horny delight to read thank you so so much for being part of the collab and producing this masterpiece for it!! I LOVE YOU
realising i accidentally reblogged this to my tbr account bc iโm an idiot so reblogging it here now lmfao ๐ญ ALSO STILL NOT OVER HOW INSANELY COOL THIS ISSS
anyway god bless big, huge, bear-coded men whoโs whole body can blanket you in the winter to keep you warm and also easily press you hard into the mattress with every push of their heavy hips YEY
I just know you could write the fuck out of a Bullseye fic.
oooooooo firstly THANK YOU because whenever anyone says stuff like this my heart swells ๐ฅน like wdym you think i could do justice to a character you like??
and i would loooove to write a dex fic because, like so many of us, ddba has thrown that deranged little freak directly into my enclosure and now iโm staring at him through the glass likeโฆ
however!! i am currently lacking the perfect idea for him ๐ so if anyone has any dex thoughts, concepts, vibes, thots, visions, crimes, etcโฆ send them my way pretty please?? ๐
just know he is absolutely ruminating in my brain and the second the spark hits? itโs over for me <33
โจ๐ผ๐ท๐ this is the you are amazing award. send it to ten bloggers you think are wonderful or just take a moment to bask in your own awesomeness! โจ๐ผ๐ท๐
(iceyngi)
ahhh moni thank you so much bb!! ๐ซถ๐ผ heh what an awardโฆ i guess i accept ๐๐
oh bb u wont believe the amount of assignments ive had to push (the assignments being mental ones ive enforced for myself) just because i had no energy to do sooooo
and we are apparently two peas in a pod as this week has also been shit for me, so i give u great grace and an eternal ball of sunshine and reminders that u r beautiful and kind and can take as much time as needed to keep everything steady!! wouldnt want anything affecting my fav maddie & blog โน๏ธโน๏ธ
that being saidโฆ lots of love ๐
babbyyyyy stawwwpp iโm gonna cry ๐ฅน๐ญ seeing this in my inbox over the past few days whilst i was stressing about said fic and feeling a bit rubbish about being late posting it was honestly so needed ๐ค๐ค
genuinely getting inboxes like this mean the absolute world, so thank you so so much for putting the biggest smile on my face!! with the fic now posted, and currently being on holiday in the sun iโm getting some much needed r&r after a crazy past two weeks!!
i hope the days are treating you kinder too now & youโve got more energy to complete some of those assignments!! please take care of yourself angel, much love <33
girrrrrrl the way I've started associating ari levinson with you is insane. like one look at that man and my mind goes maddie maddie maddie. civil war grey tshirt steve rogers with fran and the shirt and tie andy barber with veni. you three out there claiming your men is iconic. never go bald divas โจ๐ซช
cryingggg because yes thatโs MY man actually ๐ญ this is honestly so validating bc iโve been working very hard to make being horny for ari levinson my whole entire personality actually ๐ if you see scratch marks down his back know they came from ME ๐ซฆ
heโs just 100% prime beef oh my goddddd donโt even get me started bc iโm sat by the pool and iโm gonna start soaking through my bikini if i think about him much longer ๐คค
