Warnings: non-con, Somnophilia, step-cest, choking, praise, degradation, unprotected sex
You woke up to a flutter deep in your gut. You were barely awake as pleasure erupted all over your body, heating coursing through your veins, and seeping from your pussy. You reach between your legs, startled to find something deep inside you. Or someone.
“There she is.” Your step dads voice meets your ears and your eyes snap open. His hand snakes up your chest and wraps around your throat, holding you in place.
“Do you know how long I’ve been in here?” Rafe whispers, his voice thick with lust. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t woken up until now.
“You’re a deep sleeper.” The growl in his voice makes you shudder and clench around him.
“Fuck.” He groans, rocking into you was a slow, lazy rhythm. “You flaunt this body around at all hours of the day and expect me not to want a taste?”
“R-Rafe.” Your eyes start to roll back as your release hits you and Rafe hisses through his teeth, fucking you harder.
“Good girl. Squeeze me just like that. Milk my fucking cock, little slut.” You suck in a breath, his hold on your throat barely allowing you any air as he widens your legs, reaching even deeper.
“Holy fuck, I’m gonna cum. I can’t stop. Jesus, you feel so good. One time isn’t going to be enough. I’m going to need this all the time.” Rafe kisses your neck as he cums, filling you up painfully deep and triggering another orgasm from you.
Just imagine Aemond being so soft, gentle and kind towards you. Then, one day, your loved ones betrayed you. It left you hurt, in pain and scarred. He, who did not take kindly towards the disrespect bestowed your way, convinced you to fight back and take revenge. Little did you know that in his mind, once you agree, he will burn down to ashes those who hurt you. He is ready to dance with you, the rumba of death, atop flesh and bones. His crown made from gold and terror, while yours were polished, cleaned from blood and tears of the orphaned. You will shed no tears ever again from betrayal. He will make sure of that.
I fidget with my bike lock staring apprehensively at the tattoo and Piercing shop. Shield’s Tattoos and piercings was the store I had walked into on my eighteenth birthday clutching my ID and a 50 dollar bill. That’s when I met Nat. She pierced my ears and chatted with me over sodas. I came to her for the next five, filling my ears top to bottom on both sides. She had been begging me to get a tattoo but Nat wasn’t an artist and she was the only person I let stick needles in my body, well until now.
I had a meeting with Nat’s friend Steve to talk about a tattoo. He was fresh off army service give or take about a month he spent soul searching on an oil rig in the artic. Girls have gap years in Europe. I guess burly men have that. Nat had sung his praises and reassured me a million times that he was great but here I was standing outside the shop quaking like a leaf. They could probably see me so my fear of looking like an idiot outweighed my fear of strange men and prolonged exposure to needles.
The bell above the door rings as I enter. The shop smells like incense and cleaning solution, an aggressive combination that I had somehow grown to love. Nat turns the corner and hurries to wrap me in a warm hug. “God I can't believe you actually came! Your latest has healed nicely!” She refers to the small stud on my nose. I squeezed her tightly. “Yeah, the swelling went down in no time.”
“You must be Angel.” The deep voice is attached to a gorgeous statue of a man. He has baby blues that would make just about any woman North of the Mississippi weak in the knees. I blush before speaking. “It’s not my name but it's what everyone calls me. You must be Steve?” He nods and grins. That'd be me, sweetheart, wanna come back and take a look at some sketches I did?”
He escorts me to the back with a big hand resting between my shoulder blades, gently guiding me. “So I talked to Nat a bit and read the notes you sent so I did a few sketches. Some are more simple than others, just look and see what you like and I can make tweaks.” He slides a sketchbook across the table as I sit down. I flip through it gently admiring the sketches. There were flowers, books, even a bicycle but none of those caught my eye. It was the very last sketch that I knew was it.
“It’s a-“ “Seraphim” I finished, interrupting him in my excitement. “Sorry,” I apologize, embarrassed that I just blurted it out. “No no it’s okay I'm just happy you recognized what it was,” Steve reassures me. “It’s gorgeous, what placement do you think would be best?” I trace my fingers over the lines utterly in love with the image. “It’d make a pretty awesome back piece. I could really let it take up the room it deserves but it would take more than one appointment.” He says this hesitantly as if not wanting to force me into a commitment.
“I don't mind if you don't?” I tell him, seeing his face would be a bonus to go along with the tattoo. It was like a free art viewing just being in his presence. “Sounds like we've got a deal Angel.” His hand is warm when I shake it. “Clint will talk about billing later but I'm not worried about it. We can start today if you'd like? I just have to get a stencil going.” I nod happily. “That sounds good, thank you Steve.” “Anytime sweetheart”
I end up sitting/laying on the tattoo chair, my unclasped bra being the only thing reserving my dignity. Steve gently applies the stencil to my back. “Alright Angel this isn't gonna be horrible but it ain't gonna be pleasant either so let me know if you need a break. I'm sure you'll do good.” His Brooklynn accent comes out a bit thicker than usual. “Alright” I prepare myself for the buzzing and the pain but once the needle touches my skin it’s actually not the worst.
“So you from around here Sweetheart?” I laugh but try and keep it restrained because of the needle on my back. “No, I'm from a tiny town in Vermont up near Canada. I ran to New York the moment I turned 18. How about you? Brooklyn right? “Born and bred a couple blocks from here. Vermont has the leaves thing right?” I chuckle. “Yeah, leaf peeping when all the tourists come in. My Dad always hated it, he said if they were coming to see God’s handiwork they could bother to come into God’s house. He's a priest so..”
Steve sucks air in through his teeth. “I understand must've been tough with a priest as your old man.” “You could definitely say that. He was more into God’s wrath than his love and forgiveness,” My voice comes out smaller and sadder than I mean it to. Steve’s voice darkens. “I’d like to show him some of my wrath” It was aggressive but it warmed my heart. “I think I'd like to see that,” I laugh. “Just say the word doll, can’t waste all this military training just cause I'm discharged.
“Special Forces right?” I can't see but I think he nods. “105th infantry then special forces. We were up in all the Europe Russia shit before it exploded up there.” “Thank you, really” “Eh just doin my part to fix the shitty system Doll. I think we're at a good stopping point. I'll get you all cleaned up here.” He sanitizers the area again and leaves me to get dressed. I throw my top back on but before I look at the progress on my back. It's gorgeous.
When I walk out Steve is at the front desk with Clint. “Hey Angel, I see Nat finally convinced you to get tatted.” I smile. “Yep she wore me down, how are Laura and the kids?” “Good, the boys are growing like weeds. Lila's getting college mail. She’s sixteen I feel like I’ll blink and she’ll be 21” I smile sympathetically. “Well the only one that’s turning 21 is Angellll!” Kate Clint’s niece singsongs walking out from the back carrying a box of cleaning supplies.
I groan. “You guys promised not to make a big deal of it.” Steve raises an eyebrow. Nat who was sitting silently in the corner grins. “Angel likes to think that her birthday doesn’t deserve a big fuss but if it’s up to anyone at this shop it’s gonna be a big deal and it’s gonna be on Saturday.” I glare at Nat. “You said just drinks.” She walks over, putting her arm around me. “I said there’d be drinks not that’d it be just drinks” I sigh and turn to Steve. “Well then if you’d like to join the madness you’re invited” “It’s a date” he replies.
THIS IS A DARK DRABBLE. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THIS KIND OF MATERIAL.
Dark!Stucky punishing reader after she tries to escape from them:
· I’m picturing Bucharest!Bucky and Nomad!Steve. Steve is more of a soft dom and Bucky is too until you disobey him.
· Steve is the one who catches you trying to escape and he’s giving his nod of disapproval with a “tsk tsk tsk, Bucky is not gonna like this.”
· And he’s so right because Bucky is PISSED when he gets back from the store. He had even gotten you some little candies.
· Bucky would drag you to the bedroom by your hair and Steve would follow. Bucky wouldn’t even take your dress off. He’d just throw you over his lap and push your dress up.
· He’d spank your ass cherry red till you’re sobbing, and Steve would be stroking himself in the corner.
· Bucky would push your panties to the side and take his fingers and slide it up and down your folds, occasionally dipping them inside you. “This is our cunt, do you understand? You’re never going to get away from us. We’ll always come for you. We’ll always find you.”
· He’d take his knife out and cut your dress off right down the middle. He’d throw you on the bed and take you bent down ass up, completely railing you while pinning your hands behind your back.
· Eventually it’s too much for Steve to watch and he’d lift your head up and fuck your throat raw. Neither of them would stop until you damn near passed out from the overstimulation and lack of oxygen.
· “Swear you’ll never leave us, doll. Swear it.”
· They’d both sandwich you in the bed for the rest of the night, not letting you go.
· In the morning they’d rub some cream on your ass and apologize for being so rough. Meanwhile, you’d already be planning your next escape.
Warnings: noncon and violent elements. Warnings are not exhaustive. Please curate your reading accordingly.
Summary: Steve comes home.
As always, please, please, please, send me your thoughts and feedback, horny and otherwise! Love you all so much 💗
A sudden vertigo overcomes you, sweeping you out of your static sleep. You blink away the shroud of drowsiness and greet the man above you with a vacant stare. Your breath hitches as you turn fully onto your back to face Steve.
“We doing this again?” He stands straight and crosses his thick arms over his bulging chest, “the hiding?”
“Sorry, Captain,” you push yourself up, bending your legs in front of you as you keep your heels on the blanket below you, half of it trailing behind you under the bed.
“I don’t like you sleeping under there. You know that.”
“I do, sir, but…” You bat your lashes and pout. You can’t tell him who you are truly hiding from. “I don’t like sleeping alone in the bed.”
He tilts his head and the stony edge leaves his jaw. He nods and bends over you, gripping you around your sides as he lifts you to your feet. He steadies you before him before he lets you go, fingertips brushing up your nightgown.
There’s a cut above his cheek and smear of dry blood down his stubbled throat that trails onto his dark collar. There’s a rent in the fabric across his chest, another deep along his torso, that one reddened and tattered. He cradles your chin as you eyes drift down to his wounds and he forces you to look at him.
“Starshine, I’m alright,” he assures you as his thumb caresses your cheek, “go get the kit.”
“Yes, Captain,” you touch his hand gently, angling your head up as he leans in. You give him a kiss, breathing in the scent of blood and sweat. You part and give a meek smile before you spin on your heel.
You flit off to find the silver chest stored under the bathroom counter. You hear him just through the doorway as he starts to strip away his layers. The clink of buckles and rustle of fabric underlines the silence.
As you return to the bedroom, he sits on the bench of your vanity. The one he proudly reminds you he built himself. He still wears his grimy boots and stained pants, the dark blue fabric dusted with some unknown soot.
He sighs as he pushes his head back and stretches his neck. He winces as you see how it tugs at the shallow slice along his abdomen. His firm muscles draw taut and his broad chest rises and falls. Along his left peck, a purpled welt stretches up to his shoulder but the skin remains unbroken.
He sets his head straight and watches your approach. You lay out the kit and flip the top open. You flick away the last of your fatigue with a flutter of your eyelashes. You take out the alcohol first and set to cleaning the cut along his stomach first.
“It’s going to sting,” you warn, just as you do every time, even though you know he barely feels it.
“Worth it,” he purrs as he brushes your hip, welcoming you closer as you set to work.
When you finish with the bloody slice, placing a bandage neatly over it, you move on to his hands. You only just notice his split knuckles. He gives you each in turn, letting you clean them and wrap a few fingers.
You finish with a dab of witch hazel over his bruises. He watches you intently. You’re overly aware of his attention as his hands wander along the silky fabric of your nightgown. As you tidy up, he lifts the hem and leans around to get a glimpse of your ass. He gives a tiny spank before he sits back, resting his elbows on the edge of your vanity as he looks you up and down.
“Good girl,” he praises, pushing his legs wide.
“Captain,” you eke out as you close up the kit and dump the peel wrappers and cotton balls in the small bin beside the vanity.
“I’m sorry I was gone so long, starshine,” he says, “as much for myself as you, you know?”
“I know, Captain,” you face him again.
He nods curtly, wordless order. You walk around his knee and stand before him, just in the vee of his legs. He pats his thigh, his eyes slipping down to the gesture and back up again. You sit obediently on his leg as he brings an arm forward, setting his hand against the small of your back.
“You missed me,” he slides his other elbow off the vanity and sits straight, reaching to your hand and dragging it up over your lap.
“Yes, Captain.”
He lifts your hand and places it against his jaw, guiding it along the thick trim of his beard. He leans into your touch and lets you go reluctantly. You keep your fingers moving, petting him as he hums in delight.
“Give Captain a kiss,” his voice grinds like gravel.
You lean in and press your lips to his. It’s easier now. Before, everything you did was so mechanical but you know better now. It only makes him mad when he sees your reluctance.
His tongue pokes out, gliding along your lips. You let him in, angling your head as he invades your mouth. His hand creeps up your back and he braces the back of your head. He locks you in a hungry kiss, snarling as if he might devour you whole.
When he pulls away, you’re breathless and dizzy. His eyes are dark pits you could fall into. His hand falls to the back of your neck as his other dances along the edge of your nightgown. He gives a small tug as his eyes drift down your body.
“Stand up,” he orders.
You stand.
He leads you without a word. Turning you to face him and knocking apart your feet with his boot. He draws you closer until you stand over his leg. He slips his hands beneath your nightgown, raising it above your pelvis as he frames your hips. He forces you down to straddle his thick thigh, a small gasp escaping you as you wince. You’re still tender…
“I missed you, baby girl,” he lets a hand fall down to your ass, the other keeping a firm hold on your hip, “I want to feel how much you missed me.”
He rocks you once. Pull your pelvis forward then urging it back. The friction of your cunt on his thigh sparks a thrill that ripples down your thighs. You nearly squeal as the sensation reminds you of the rawness nestled between your legs. You repeat the motion. Mimic how he moved you. You tilt against his thigh, another babble trickling from your lips.
You trail your other hand up his arm, watching how the tendons in his arm react, bicep rounding as you grasp his shoulder.
His hand clamps around your hips as the other brushes down to knead the tender flesh of your thigh. You let out a willowy breath as he leans in and hovers his lips before yours. You kiss him, heeding another mute order. You have to know how to read his body as much as his words.
You roll your hips, grinding against him as your fingers graze along his beard. You push your hand back to twine into the tails of his hair. His need melts into you as the pressure blooms beneath you. You squeak and moan, a mixture of pleasure and pain.
You ride him without restraint. The bench creaks below his weight and yours. He groans into your mouth as your tongues meet in desperation. Your legs quiver and burn as you chase your release. It’s close yet so far away.
Gasp and pull your mouth from his, puffing wildly as lifts his chin and lets out a gritty growl. You dip your head down and kiss his neck, nipping at him as you clutch the strands of his hair and dig your nails into the firm muscles of his shoulder.
“That’s it, I can almost feel it, baby girl, hmm, you gonna cum for your captain?”
“Mmhmm,” you purr as you ply frantic pecks along his throat, “yes… cap… tain.”
You rut spastically as the swell of fire roars through you. You quake as the slickness between your leg smears along your cunt and onto his pant leg. Your pleasure spills over as it spreads to the creases of your thighs.
You slow, little by little, shame coursing anew in your veins as your orgasm recedes. You still and lift your head, wavering just slightly as you look Steve in the eyes. You drag your hand down to his chest.
“You came, didn’t you, starshine?” He asks with a taunting smirk.
“Yes, Captain, I did,” you answer and turn your face down in embarrassment.
His fingertips tickle along your thigh and up to your ass. He feels along your nightgown, almost curiously and follows the curve of your chest up to the base of the strap. He glides the thin string down your shoulder, then the other.
He pulls down the top of your nightie and fondles your chest with his large hand. Your nipple react at once and goosebumps rise across your skin. You tremble and look down to watch him grope you.
“You’re… sensitive.”
“Captain,” you breathe cluelessly.
“Were you a good girl?”
“Good?”
“You didn’t touch yourself, did you?” He pinches your nipple and you yelp.
“No, Captain, never,” you whimper.
“No?” He tweaks the other and you squeeze his arm, “so why are you so… tender?”
“Captain?” Your eyes round, “I swear, I didn’t–”
“Hmmm,” his hum undercuts your protest and he clucks and he smirks, “Buck did say you were a good girl. Maybe he was a bad boy, huh?”
You gape at him. He’s mocking you. He knows why. He knows everything. You look up to the corner where the lens is. He sees it all.
“He won’t have to be bad if you don’t hide from him,” he bounces your tit in his hand, “you know he likes to play games.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“And you know I don’t like it when you make me look bad,” he flicks your nipple with his fingernail and you yelp as you cover it with your hand, “when you act like you have no discipline.”
“I didn’t– I was scared, Steve– Captain,” you panic and pull your hand away from your chest to press to his, “please, Captain, I was only afraid.”
He growls as his throat bobs. Thoughts storm in his eyes as they bore into you. He grasps the bunched fabric of your nightgown and rips it all the way to your waist.
“You will behave this time,” he sneers, “won’t you, starshine?”
“Yes, Captain.” This time?
“Go put something pretty on,” he grips your hips and slides you down his thigh, “he’ll be here soon.”
You don’t argue. You stand and let the nightgown fall to your feet. His eyes rove up and down and he gives a noise of approval.
“Or maybe, you should stay like that, baby girl,” he taunts, “you’ve never look more delicious than you do right now.”
Warnings: threats, blackmail, implied non-con, unprotected sex
Rafe’s large hand tightens around your wrist as you try to leave, a sinking feeling filling your gut. He wasn’t going to let you leave.
You lifted your chin to look into his blue eyes, his pupils blown and his jaw slack at he gazes at you with pure heat and desire.
“Rafe, let go.” You try to say as calmly as you can, giving your wrist a tug but he only shakes his head, not budging.
“I’ve waited too long to have you just to let you walk away now.” Rafe says softly, taking a step towards you causing you to back away. Your back meets the door and Rafe doesn’t stop closing in until his chest is pressed to yours. His blue eyes are hooded as his hand suddenly wraps around your throat, his thumb gently stroking your racing pulse.
“So you can either stay willingly.. or unwillingly. Your decision.” Rafe leans in to kiss you but you turn your head, feeling his lips brush your cheek as his hand flexes around your neck.
“I don’t want you.”
“You will.”
“I will never love you.”
“I’m extremely persuasive.”
“I’m in love with JJ.”
Rafe’s hand tightens on your throat, a snarl forming on his lips as he cuts off your air supply while pressing his forehead to yours. You thrash against him, dragging your nails across his hand and the side of his neck when he finally loosens his hold. You sag against the wall with tears in your eyes just as Rafe leans in and presses his lips to yours, the blood you’d drawn with your nails starting to drip down your dress.
“Don’t ever say those fucking words again or you’ll be in love with a corpse.” Rafe whispers but the threat very real in his voice. You push at his chest, the tears falling freely as you bite back a sob. Rafe smirks as he leans in to lick your tears, making you whimper and push harder against him.
“Rafe, please don’t do this.” You plead as he presses his body harder against yours. His free hand comes up to cup your breast through your dress, his fingers gently pinching your nipple since you weren’t wearing a bra.
“I think I want two kids. A boy and a girl. Maybe a third.” Rafe murmurs, making your eyes widen in alarm.
“Rafe.”
“I want to name our son after my dad but you can pick the girl name.”
“Rafe!”
“Okay, you can pick both but his middle name should be Ward.” You panic, bringing your knee up in an instant between his legs but he’s quicker. A dark laugh rumbles his chest before he fists the front of your favorite sundress and rips it clear down the middle. Both hands immediately cup your breasts, tweaking your nipples as you tremble against the wall.
“You hit me and I’ll tie your arms behind your back. You kick me and I’ll hogtie you. You bite me and I’ll put a ball gag shaped like a cock down your throat.” Rafe growls, pushing the fabric of your dress off your shoulders before pulling his polo over his head. There’s blood running down his neck from your nails.
“Rafe, please.” You cry as he leads you over to hot-tub on his outdoor patio. He practically had a view of the whole island blanketed in darkness.
“I can be gentle or I can be rough.” Rafe growls in your ear from behind. You feel him slip his pants off then he’s pulling your panties now your thighs before his hands come up to cup the swells of your ass before smacking each one.
“Perfect.” Rafe’s breathes, giving you butterflies that you fight to ignore.
You flinch as his hands roam over every inch of your skin, his breath hot on your body. You pull away and step into the hot tub to get away from him, adverting your eyes so you don’t have to see the member bobbing between his legs as he joins you.
“You don’t have to be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to be with you.” Rafe says with a smile, slowly approaching you in the hot water even as you cower away from him. Rafe doesn’t hesitate in pulling you on to his lap despite your efforts to push against him. You feel his cock immediately rubbing against your clit, making you hate the way your body reacts to him. His large hands squeeze your ass, not letting you pull away.
“I don’t want to be with you.” You bite out, your nails digging into his neck again but he only smiles before dipping his head to suck one of your nipples in his mouth. A soft moan leaves your lips before you can stop it but you quickly clamp your mouth shut as he licks and sucks gently, his cock still nudging your clit.
“JJ will come looking for me. They all will. They won’t believe I stayed here willingly.” You growl, pushing at Rafe’s shoulders when his teeth catch your nipple. You yelp when he bites down only for him to lick away the sting a moment later.
“That’s fine. Let them come. Trespassers get arrested. Or shot.” Rafe mumbles around your nipple in his mouth, making you whimper as he starts to kiss his way up your chest and to your neck. A single tear slides down your cheek and Rafe quickly licks it away, letting his tongue find your bottom lip next.
“Don’t cry, baby. I haven’t even given you my cock yet. You can cry then.” Rafe whispers, attempting to kiss you again only for you to pull away with a snarl, your nails drawing more blood on his shoulders.
“Mark me. Do it. I love it. I’ll make sure I tell JJ how I got it. Sweet little Y/N rode my cock until she passed out and I fucked her some more.”
“I’ll run away.” You snap.
“I’ll drag you back by your hair and chain you to my bed.” Rafe growls, his hand finding it’s way into the back of your hair and the other finding your clit.
“You can’t keep me prisoner.” Your voice breaks as pleasure erupts all over your body, your pussy aching to be filled.
“Then agree to stay. Stay with me.” Rafe greedily slips two fingers into your pussy and your head falls back on a moan as he curls his fingers just right. The pleasure is too much. You’re mind and body turn to goo as you start to shamelessly grind on his fingers. Just when your body starts to clench down, he withdraws his fingers and sucks them clean in his mouth.
“L-let m-me have JJ too and I’ll stay.” You blurt, deciding to gain the upper hand as you quickly line him up with your entrance and sink down on his thick cock. Rafe’s eyes narrow as his jaw clenched, his hands quickly grabbing your ass and impaling you completely on him.
You whimper, too full too fast. Rafe snarls, pulling his lips back like an animal to bare teeth as you start to move. It hurts. Like he’s going to come out your throat but you don’t give up. He wanted you and you could use that to your advantage. He couldn’t say no to what your body was doing to his. His cock was throbbing inside your tight walls.
“Let me keep JJ and you can have me. I’ll stay.” You whisper, running your hands up his broad chest to cup his neck, smearing the thin trails of blood as you keep bouncing on his cock.
“Share me Rafe and I’ll stay.” You press your lips to his and Rafe moans loudly, his arms banding around your waist to hold you in place as he starts to trust up into you. One hand slides down your lower back and between your cheeks, making your eyes snap open in surprise as he presses a finger to your ass.
“You’ll stay regardless because after this the only cock you’ll crave is mine. I plan to make sure you forget all about him. But go ahead, fuck me to try and get your way. Use me like I’m going to use you.”
Warnings: noncon and violent elements. Warnings are not exhaustive. Please curate your reading accordingly.
Summary: You make a run for it.
As always, please, please, please, send me your thoughts and feedback, horny and otherwise! Love you all so much 💗
“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Steve stands behind you, hands framing your head. He presents you to Bucky like livestock, stroking and petting your hair. “Problem with a pretty face is you can’t tell if it’s lying.”
Steve’s hands fall to your neck, closing around it but not squeezing.
“So, Buck, was my starshine a good girl?”
Bucky gives a crooked smirk and he pushes his fingers through his thick locks. He exhales and tuts as he considers you. His eyes appraise every inch of you, naked to his gaze. Steve’s forces your chin back up as you try to hide.
“She was a very good girl…” Bucky comes closer, a step at a time. “Once I found her.”
“Mm, she has a habit of hiding, doesn’t she?” Steve’s grip tightens until his fingers are flush to your throat, “tryna keep a good thing all to herself.”
“Captain,” you croak and he chokes the voice from you.
“I didn’t say you could talk,” he snarls. “Sergeant, you got any ideas?”
Bucky brings his metal hand up to his chin, giving a thoughtful stroke and slides his thumb up to his lower lip. He pushes against it and hums.
“If she likes to hide… I don’t mind finding her,” Bucky snickers, “we’re soldiers, we know how to track. But it never hurts to test our skills, huh?”
“Meaning,” Steve pulls you back against him.
“You remember where we took that hike… with the team? That big forest up a ways. Real easy to hide up there. Easier to get lost.”
“Oh?” Steve hums, “there’s no moon, Buck. That’s not practical.”
“I didn’t think we were being practical,” Bucky retorts, “but if you wanna be practical…”
Bucky holds up his metal hand and stretches his fingers. Steve clucks and slowly drags his hands from your neck, trailing along your shoulders. His breath brushes over your hair as he leans in to plant a kiss on your crown.
“That’s the thing about my little star,” he snarls into your hair, “I’ll always find her light.”
⭐
You crash to your knees, a gust swirling over you as the metal slices into the trunk of a nearby tree. You can hardly see as you scramble across the forest floor, crawling away from where the shield’s embedded into the thick walnut. You have only a thin layer of silk to guard you against the night, the belt of the robe growing looser with each move.
You get to your feet, naked soles slipping on the leaves and dirt. You throw out your arms to keep your balance as you race into the dark. You keep your hands ahead of you to keep from crashing into some unseen barrier. You squint, the vague outline of the trees speckled all around.
“Is that a fawn I hear?” Bucky’s voice rises tauntingly above you, “or a little kitten?”
You gasp and hurl yourself forward, twisting and turning without direction. Your only purpose is to get away. To keep afoot. You cannot stop, you cannot hide. They will find you.
“Cute little kitten… thinks she can outrun a wolf,” Bucky chortles as you hear his steady, patient steps. He doesn’t run, he walks with a certain pace. He has no doubt as you’re swept up in all of yours.
You slip again, crashing into the soft ground, rolling down a small ditch. The silk parts, exposing your chest and stomach. You try to fix it as you puff and stagger to your feet. You tighten the knot and fall forward. You claw your way up the rise and crest the ridge.
“You sound scared, starshine,” Steve’s timbre wafts through the chill, “I can hear your heartbeat…”
“I hear it too,” Bucky’s voice counters from your other side.
You spin around, searching through the void, lashing out protectively. The world tilts and turns violently as you whimper and thrash your arms.
“Please, please, don’t–”
“Run.”
Bucky’s breath tickles the back of your ear and you yipe. You obey without a thought. You sprint ahead, pumping your arms and length as you sob and race into the blackness. Your feet pound against the forest floor, twigs and pebbles cutting up your flesh.
He’s behind you. Running. You hear the steps just behind yours. Your chest burns and your nerves scatter. You hit a wall and bounces back, colliding into another behind you.
You're crushed between the bodies of the men as they close in on you, grabbing as you robe as you weakly try to fend them off. You squeak and squeal as the robe falls away and the silk is peeled from your shoulders. The fabric pools at your feet, slipping beneath them as you kick up frantically.
Bucky loops his arms through yours and pulls them above your head. You whine as Steve’s calloused fingertips brush up your stomach and he gropes your chest. You squirm as he explores your naked flesh, thumbs rolling around your hard nipples and tracing between your tits.
“Guess it’s a tie?” Bucky purrs.
“Nah, I got her first,” Steve growls.
“Bullshit.”
“We can share.”
“You can have her mouth,” Steve grabs your chin.
Bucky brings his hand up, poking two fingers into your mouth as Steve squeezes your jaw. You nearly gag as Bucky pokes at the back of your tongue. You bite down on his metal digits and he hums.
“Fine, one hole’s just as sweet as the next, right, sugarplum?”
Steve pulls his hand back and grips the back of your head. He shoves you forward till you bend, his other hand clasps around your hips as he keeps your ass against him. You smell the blood and scent that lingers on his dirty uniform.
He wiggles against you as Bucky cups your chin and brings your head up. You bat your lashes as hot tears well and spill over. You whine and quiver as you reach out to cling to his pants. The soft whisper of his zipper cuts through the din of the nocturnal forest.
His hard tip presses against your lips as he keeps his hold on you. He pushes into your mouth as you let him. You can’t fight. You’ve fallen into their trap. He slides into your throat and you suck in air around him.
Steve shifts behind you, his pants slackening as he leans against you. You feel his veiny length rub along your ass. He trails his tip down the curve of your flesh. You shiver as he glides down along your cunt and lines himself up.
"Can you feel how desperate she is for you?" Steve growls.
He inches into you as you let out a murmur around Bucky’s intrusion. You cling tighter to Bucky as he rocks and Steve dips deeper and deeper. Your walls clench him and your feet slip on the dirt. He steadies you as he builds his tempo.
"I feel her shaking… sorry, I got a bit carried away Rogers, but you know how that pussy just begs for it," Bucky huffs.
The noise of your degradation echoes around you. Your heart hammers behind your ears as your blood sears through your veins. You can’t breath as they use you, back and forth, stretching and bending you to their will. You are nothing more than what they make of you.
Steve runs his hand up above your ass, a sharp tap as he ruts. Bucky wrenches your head back, sinking further in as he gags you. You babble helplessly as your face streams in futility.
Steve leans over you, ramming himself to his limit as he snakes his hand around your neck. Bucky pets your head as he groans. Steve purrs as the Bucky bulges in your throat.
"Mmm, fuck, she takes it so good," Steve grits out, "why are you hiding, baby girl, when your body needs this?"
He pulls you back, sliding you off of Bucky. The other man grunts and exhales sharply as his wet dick prods your cheek.
Steve wraps his thick arm around your neck and pulls you straight as he stands. He keeps you locked with his bicep as Bucky steps closer.
Bucky lifts your left leg, hooking it over Steve’s free arm, before raising your other. He keeps it bent to your chest as he lines up with your entrance. You mewl as he slowly forces his way in. Your cunt stretches painfully around both of them, burning hotter the further he gets.
Both men bury themselves to their limit. You whimper and cough, throat still raw and ragged. You tilt your head back as Steve's arm curls tighter around your neck.
You huff and heavy as they work in tandem, fucking into you, crushing you between their ruts. You bounce helplessly, muscles straining as every part of your clenches.
"Mm, baby girl," Steve moans, "you like that, don't you?"
"Huh, the captain isn't good enough. You need the sergeant too," Bucky teases, "that's it doll, you like to be used."
You shudder and shut your eyes against another wave of tears. You grasp Steve’s side and Bucky’s arm, trying to slow both of them. You cannot. You can only steel yourself against the barrage of their desire.
You plunge into the void of both world and mind. You let it consume you just as they do. The friction of bodies, the theft of your autonomy, the assault of your very being. The heroes that shine in light turn to monsters in the depths of the dark.
⭐
The sun rises through the window, casting a soft hue over the hungover scene. Limbs tangled in each other, body heat mingling to sweltering, a prison of flesh on either side of you. Steve’s arm is slung around your side as Bucky’s metal hand rests on your head, cradling your cheek, a gesture less gentle than it would look.
You can barely breathe as you watch the shadows tilt and fade over Bucky’s shoulder. You don’t move, not just for the fact that they won’t let you, rather the agony that coils around you. You are worn to the bone, stretched and stained by their hunger.
You tremble as Steve groans and his fingers crawl along your side. He nestles closer and presses his nose into your hair. As they’ve slept, you’ve lain in torturous consciousness. You cannot hide, not even in your own mind. Sleep is no escape, it cannot free you from the inevitable.
“Starshine,” he rasps as he kisses your crown, brushing his fingertips along your hip. He takes your hand in his and raises it. He plays with it, folding your thumb inward as he pushes his fingers between yours. “Wake him up.”
“Captain?” You murmur as you curl your fingers beside his.
“Go on, show him a good morning,” he goads as he leads your hand down, hovering it above Bucky’s dick, half-erect already.
You let him wrap your hand around Bucky’s length. He inhales abruptly but does not open his eyes. You watch his face as Steve guides you to his tip and back down to his base. He pumps your touch up and down until Bucky’s rigid and tense.
Bucky’s dark lashes part and he stretches his thumb under your chin, clutching your face tight as he groans. His lips curl slightly as a dimple pits in his cheek. You gasp as Steve lets you go, rescinding his hand to dip along your pelvis. He slips his fingers down and burrows between your folds, a current radiating from your clit to your nape.
“Don’t stop till he cums,” Steve snarls as his nails dig into your skin.
“Yes, Captain,” you reply as you watch Bucky’s face contort, blue eyes drowning you.
It is better to obey than to hide. Easier to accept than deny. Just as you cannot fight these men, you cannot fight the fate they’ve confined you to.
Warnings: noncon and violent elements. Warnings are not exhaustive. Please curate your reading accordingly.
Summary: you get an unwelcome visitor.
Based on this anon ask:
That reblog about Seb's hair: a dark simp character with a hair pulling kink? He purposefully keeps it long because he loves when you pull on it. Even if you're physically fighting him to get away, he'll be disappointed if you don't pull. About this post.
As always, please, please, please, send me your thoughts and feedback, horny and otherwise! Love you all so much 💗
You keep a hand over your mouth, your other arm wrapped around your knees as you huddle down in the cramped space. You listen to the footsteps only a few rooms over. The slow, deliberate pace taunting you. Searching, searching, searching, until you don’t hear any at all.
“Doll,” Bucky’s voice startles you, closer than you could’ve expected, “I know you’re here.”
He lets his steps make noise again. The light on the other side of the door flicks on. You cower as you stare at the yellow line slipping in from beneath the wood.
His soles scuff on the hardwood as he makes a patient progress around the room. The subtle shift of something being lifted sets your skin alight. You swallow down a gulp as you quiver in the dark closet. He clucks loudly and hums.
“I’m just checking in, like Steve told me to,” he says, “making sure you’re okay. How can I calm his worries… if you won’t show yourself?”
His irritation hangs in the last syllable. He sighs as he waits for you to wilt. Wait for you to give in and show yourself. But you can’t. You won’t. You shouldn't have let him know you’re there at all.
“You should’ve let me in when I told you to,” Bucky snarls, “now I gotta explain the tripped alarm to the blonde bozo.”
You push your knuckle into your mouth and bite down. Why can’t he leave you alone? Please, just go away.
“Tell you what, sugarplum, I’ll count to ten and if you come out before then, I won’t be mad.”
The threat is plain. It’s too late for all that. He’s already angry. You know better than to fall for it. It doesn’t matter if you come out now or later. He’s here and he didn’t come without a mission.
He laughs and claps his hands, “you’re really going to make me count?”
You curl your arm around your head as you slouch your shoulders. You keep your palm cupped around your mouth and steady your shallow breaths. Please, please, please.
“One,” he begins and punctuates it with a step, “two,” another, “three–” a third and his soles squeak as he turns sharply, the legs of a chair scraping on the floor. “Ah, of course, sugarplum, you’re too clever for that trick, aren't you?”
You push your lips together as your nose tingles. A tear spills out and rolls down your cheek, a salty line crisp along your skin. You close your eyes and make yourself as small as you can.
“Four,” he says louder than before, “five,” his tone takes on a mean lilt, “six!” A bang as the table jolts against the floor, “seven!” A chair sent into the wall to clatter back with a crack, “eight… doll, you’re playing a dangerous fucking game with me.”
Your throat clenches painfully and your eyes burn. Your horror streams down and pools along the bend of your fingers, curved around your mouth to hold in your fear.
“Nine,” his voice is shaky with rage as his march continues across the floor.
He laughs again. The air grows stolid as your ears prick and you listen. You don’t hear him. Nothing. Not a sound.
The knob wiggles and suddenly the door wigs outward. Yellow lights pours over you, quickly blocked out by his black silhouette. You squeak and hug your legs tight as you shake your head in helpless denial.
“Ten,” he announces in victory, “sugarplum,” he squats down before you as you keep your eyelids shut. A thin shield from his invasion. “I could hear your heart beat from the fucking gate.”
You wince as his metal fingers brush over your hair. He tuts and grabs a fistful, dragging you up as he stands. You exclaim as you hang from his grasp, on tiptoes as you brace your head and try to ease the fire in your scalp. Your eyes flick open and meet the deep valleys where his should be.
“Please,” you beg, “please, I was only scared–”
“Of me? Sugarplum, you know me.”
You whimper and grasp his wrist as you snivel, “you’re hurting me–”
“You made me,” he rasps, “hiding like a bad girl.” He backs out, bringing you with him into the light as he clicks his tongue again. “What am I gonna tell Steve, huh? That his best gal was so mean to his best pal? You know he doesn’t like it when you act out.” He caresses your cheek with his other hand, his real hand. “He cares so much about you, sugarplum, he sent me all the way here to make sure you’re behaving.”
You pout as you peer up into his bottomless irises, so deep and blue. His hair is floppy as it falls apart in the middle. He looks as if he’s only just woke up. Even in only a hoodie and jeans, he makes a formidable figure.
“I am–”
“Shhhh,” he puts his thumb and index around your chin, “don’t lie. I’ll have to tell him about that too if you do.”
You press your other hand to his chest, feeling the firm muscle through the thick layer of his sweater. He purrs at your touch and looks down, poking his tongue out as he takes in your desperate attempt at resistance. He smirks and his eyes meet yours again, a growl creeping up his throat.
“Don’t be too sad, doll, I like playing with you,” he purrs as he wrenches you away and spins you to face the table, “I love it when a little kitten shows their claws.”
His hand slips down from your hair to the nape of your neck. You plant your palms against the table, arms shaking as he puts his strength into you. His metal grip pinches cruelly as his other hand crawls lightly along the hem of your nightgown, toying with the little ruffle there.
“Did he pick this? Or did you?” He leans forward to exhale across your crown.
You whimper as you fight to keep yourself standing. He shoves you and your arms collapse. You land on your elbows and cry out again.
“You don’t gotta say it, we both know he tells you what to wear and you do it like the pretty little doll you are, huh.”
He keeps you bent and slaps your ass, groping you through the thin cotton, his thumb rubbing the print on the outside, “strawberries, mmm, so sweet.”
He pushes the fabric up slowly and slides his boot between your bare feet. He tickles along the curve of your ass and purrs. Bumps rise on your naked skin as he shoves you down further, crushing your arms beneath you until your face is against the polished wood.
His touch follows along the shape of your ass to your cunt. You quiver and clench as he rubs along your folds. Your feet arch as you struggle to keep your toes on the floor. He flutters his fingertips further and delves between your lips, rolling over your bud firmly.
You murmur and reach an arm across the table. You curl your nails against the wood and whine as you turn your head, weeping freely as you kick a foot against his calf. He squeezes your neck until you still, another sob heaving from your chest.
“Please,” you claw at the table as you beg, “please, let me go–”
He snickers and ignores your pathetic pleas. He plays with your clit, slides two fingers around it and squeezes. As the pressure thrums in your bud, he dips back and brings his roughened fingertips against the pinpoint of nerves. You moan as his touch sends a current of electricity coursing through you.
You slap the table, your palm squeaking across the polish. You try to drag yourself higher, try to free yourself from him, but the vice of his fingers only tightens around your neck. You gurgle and gulp frantically as his irritation shows in the motion of his fingers.
“Be sweet for me, sugarplum,” he sneers as he pokes along your entrance, “hmm, I know you can be.”
He dips two fingers into you, stretching you to his knuckles. You walls clench him as you mewl. He wiggles his hand, keeping his fingers buried deep inside you. Your breath hitches and a shaky moan escapes your lungs.
“Mm, feels like ole cap’s been taking it easy on you,” he slides his fingers back slowly, hovering them just along your entrance as he lines up a third.
He pushes against your cunt, inch by inch he stretches you. You throw your arm back blindly, your fingers dancing fruitlessly along your ass as you try to stop him. You lift your head as far as you can as he works his fingers deeper. You arch your back as your thighs flex and quake.
He kicks your feet further apart and rams in to his knuckles. You yelp and drop your head, retracting your hand to bring a fist against the tabletop. He tilts his hand, rocking harshly against you as he jerks your body with each thrust.
“Look at that pussy. Clinging to me… desperate for me,” he gloats, “fuck, he’s barely gone a week and you’re tight as fuck.”
You sniffle and cover your face. You bend your arm over your head and rest your hand on his metal one, another pathetic attempt to push him away.
You can hear it. Hear how your body reacts without your permission. How he steals what he wants from you.
He drags his fingers out of you, smearing the betrayal up your ass and giving a mean pinch. He rescinds his touch, shifting behind you, boots set against your feet.
He bends his knees and you feel the naked graze of his tip again you. A new chill ripples up your spine. You grit your teeth as he rubs up and down your cunt, tapping along your entrance as if to mock your futility.
He centres himself and prods at you. Leaning in only to relent, basking in your weak whimpers and hollow whines. He frames his dick with his fingers and pushes into you. You can't help but sob louder as he invades you.
You gnash your teeth as he rocks himself deeper and deeper. You groan and once more claw at his hand against your neck. He slips it away to gather the fabric of your nightgown behind your waist. Twisting it taut as he carries a steady rhythm with his hips.
Your muscles rack as your cheek presses to the table and your arms fold helplessly at your sides. He grunts as he sinks to his limit, snapping his pelvis so you yipe. He chuckles and speeds up, goaded on by the disparity in your strength.
He releases the knot of fabric and trails his hand up your back. He hooks his hand around your shoulder and bends over you, rutting harder as he puffs against your hair.
"If you let me in, I don't have to break down the walls, doll," he snarls.
You moan and fling your hand back, latching onto the lock of hair that tickles your ear. He grunts as you tug, trying to hurt him anyway you can. He leans in and nips the back of your ear.
"You like it," he pants, "I grew it out so you got something to hang onto."
He laughs again. The derisive snicker turns your blood to ice. You can't hurt a man who feels nothing.
He slams against your ass mercilessly and you grasp his hair tighter. He fucks you without measure, frantically pumping into you as his head drapes down beside yours. His metal fingers dig into your shoulder tighter and tighter as his other hand frames your hip.
You yank the tangled strand again as you heave. It's not about hurting him any longer. It's about getting through it, that is until he's back again.
