You do, of course, realize that this is going to end very, very badly
Jupiter's Circle #9 (2016)/ Civil War #2 (2007)/Worm 27.2 (2011)/Dark Avengers #16 (2010)/ The Power Fantasy #14 (2026)/ Kingdom Come Chapter 1 (1996)
$ log - during his bachelor's party, cpt rogers is pushed to his limits by manipulative teasing of his two best friends. he always knew you liked to dance, and that sgt. barnes loves to rough-house with him — so he can't really blame you two for planning this special night.
$ warn --nsfw --dubcon(heavy) --dom!afab!reader --dom!top!bucky --sub!bot!steve --1940s-brooklyn --flappers --lap-dance --intox(alc, cigs) --infidelity(implied) --groping --positions(cowgirl) --p-in-v --orgasm-control(overstim) --frotting --praise --degradation --humiliation --exhibitionism(light) --handjob --dry-humping --mocking --corruption --loss-of-innocence --possessive-bsfs
$ wc -w 5.3k
$ from 1940s!marvel
The Gilded Lily was a far cry from the clean, crisp air of the barracks, but Bucky had insisted. He’d spent a week’s worth of pay just to secure this little corner of sin for Steve’s final night of freedom.
Steve sat on the edge of the velvet sofa, looking entirely out of place in his best Sunday shirt, his shoulders hunched as if trying to make himself smaller.
"Buck, really," He muttered, his eyes darting toward the door as a group of loud flappers laughed in the main hall. "A place like this? Peggy’s gonna think I’ve gone soft in the head.”
"Soft? Please," Bucky chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a lazy, predatory grin.
He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, the ice clinking like a countdown. "You’re getting married, Steve. A man’s gotta celebrate the end of an era before he settles down into being a saint."
"It’s just — a bit much, isn't it?" Steve gestured vaguely to the dim, smoky atmosphere. He looked like he wanted to bolt, but the heavy, sweet scent of the whiskey Bucky had poured for him was already starting to settle in his chest.
"Nonsense," you chimed in, leaning against the doorframe of the private booth, watching him with a sly, hungry glint in your eyes.
You let your gaze linger on the way his collar strained against his neck. "You deserve a little indulgence, Stevie. One last night where you don't have to be the hero or the perfect gentleman. Just let us take care of you for once."
Steve let out a huff of a laugh, though his cheeks were already tinged with a faint, bashful pink. He reached for the glass Bucky had set in front of him. "I suppose. But don't tell Peggy about the venue, alright? She thinks I spent the evening at the library."
"Your secret's safe with us," Bucky promised, his voice dropping an octave as he caught your eye, a silent, knowing smirk passing between you.
Steve took a long, heavy swallow of the whiskey. He didn’t feel the warmth of the bourbon hit his stomach, a heavy, spreading heat that seemed to loosen the tight knot of nerves in his chest. He leaned back into the velvet, his eyes growing a little hazy as the room began to tilt just a fraction.
"There he is," Bucky murmured, watching the way Steve's eyelids fluttered. "The man of the hour."
You stepped away from the door, the silk of your skirt rustling softly against your thighs as you moved toward him.
You could see the way his gaze followed you, wide and uncertain — caught between the urge to look away and the magnetic pull of the mischief dancing in your eyes.
"Drink up, Stevie," you teased, leaning down so your breath brushed against his ear. "We've got a long night ahead of us, and you're going to need all the courage you can muster."
Steve let out a shaky breath, his hand trembling slightly as he reached for the next glass. "I think I might need a second one," he admitted, his voice sounding thicker, more unmoored than it had moments ago.
Bucky didn't miss a beat, leaning forward to refill the glass, his eyes never leaving Steve's face. "That's the spirit. Don't hold back now. You've spent your whole life holding back, Steve. Tonight, you just let go."
The whiskey in Steve’s glass wasn't just bourbon; it was a heavy, amber colored trap.
He’d asked Howard for a little something to ensure he could hold his liquor at the wedding, a way to keep up with the toasts and the celebrations without losing his dignity. He didn't realise that Howard’s "medicine" was a potent, euphoric cocktail designed to melt the very foundations of a man's willpower.
As the liquid slid down his throat, it settled into his bones like a thick, golden fog, blurring the sharp edges of the very foundations of his willpower.
You stepped into the center of the small, dimly lit space, the fringe of your flapper dress shimmying with every deliberate step. The silk was thin, barely a suggestion of a garment, and as you moved, the light caught the curves of your hips and the smooth expanse of your legs.
You prowled, your eyes locked onto Steve’s with a heavy, unblinking intensity that demanded he look.
Steve’s breath hitched. He tried to fix his gaze on the glass in his hand, but his eyes kept sliding back to you, drawn like a moth to a flame. "You — you look different in this light," he stammered, his voice thick and unmoored.
"Do I?" you purred, stepping closer until the hem of your skirt brushed against his knees.
You didn't wait for an answer. You sank onto his lap, the thin silk of your dress sliding over his heavy thighs. Steve let out a choked sound, half gasp and half groan, his large hands hovering uncertainly in the air as if he were afraid that touching you would break the spell or worse, confirm it was real.
"Darlin', what are you — " he started, his blue eyes wide and swimming with a mix of bashful panic and a hunger he couldn't quite suppress.
"Relax, Steve," Bucky’s voice cut through the haze, smooth as velvet and twice as dangerous. He was lounging on the opposite sofa, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched the way Steve’s chest heaved.
He took a slow sip of his own drink, his eyes dark with amusement. "You always knew she liked to dance. Don't go getting all stiff on us now. It's your night, isn't it? Just enjoy it."
"But Bucky, she's —" Steve trailed off, his hands finally descending to rest tentatively on your waist.
The contact was electric; even through the thin silk of your dress, the heat of his palms felt like branding irons against your skin. He was trembling, the super soldier strength in his fingers fighting against the overwhelming urge to pull you closer.
"She's what, Steve?" you whispered, leaning in until your lips were a mere breath away from his.
"She's just being friendly, Steve. Don't make it weird," Bucky added, though the predatory glint in his eyes told a completely different story.
He leaned forward, his gaze dropping to where your hips were grinding slowly, rhythmically against Steve's lap. "Besides, you've spent enough years being the soldier. Let someone else take the lead for once."
Steve let out a ragged, broken sound, his head falling back against the velvet cushion as you began to move in earnest.
You leaned back, arching your spine so the light caught the sweat glistening on your collarbone, and began to move with a slow, punishing rhythm. You ground your hips in heavy, circular motions against his groin, the friction of your silk fringe teasing the sensitive skin of his thighs through his trousers.
You reached up, your fingers tangling in his hair to pull his head back, forcing him to watch as you swayed, your breasts brushing against his chest with every deliberate tilt of your torso.
Steve’s hands, once tentative, were now clenching the fabric of your dress, his knuckles white as he fought the urge to rip the silk away.
He was caught in a fever dream of scent and sensation — the smell of your perfume, the heat of your skin, and the low, rhythmic thrum of the jazz that seemed to pulse in time with his own racing heart.
Every time you pressed down, harder and more insistent, a low, guttural groan escaped his throat, a sound that was stripped of all his usual polite composure.
He was drowning in the sensation, his senses overwhelmed by the friction of your body against his and the heavy, intoxicating fog of the whiskey that made every touch feel like a lightning strike.
You leaned in, your lips brushing against his muddled, trembling ones in a kiss that was more of a claim than a greeting.
You began to grind your hips into him with a slow, punishing pressure, the flimsy silk of your outfit offering almost zero protection between your groin and his growing ache.
Steve let out a broken, high pitched whine, his eyes fluttering as he tried to find some shred of his old self. "Doll, wait — Peggy — we shouldn't — "
Before the protest could even leave his throat, Bucky was there.
He leaned in from the side, his hand sliding firmly under Steve’s jaw to tilt his head back, forcing him to meet a gaze that was dark and entirely devoid of mercy.
The kiss was a mean bruise, with a hard, possessive pressure that stole the very air from his lungs.
As Steve gasped, Bucky’s other hand slid down to grope Steve’s chest, his fingers digging into the muscle through the thin fabric of his shirt, anchoring him in place.
"Shh," Bucky murmured against his lips, his voice a low, commanding vibration that brooked no argument. "Stop thinking, Steve. Where's that good man now? The one who always does what he's told? This is the last time, pal. The last time the three of us are like this before you're a married man. Don't ruin it by being a saint."
Steve’s head lolled back, his eyes rolling as you pressed even harder against him, your hips rolling in a way that made his entire body jerk. He was caught in a movement of sensation, your soft, insistent heat below and Bucky’s rough, demanding hands.
Every time he tried to pull back, to find some semblance of the righteous soldier, Bucky’s fingers would tighten on his chest or his mouth would descend again, effectively drowning out his conscience with pure, unadulterated sensation.
You could feel the tension in his thighs, the way his muscles coiled and strained under your weight as he finally stopped fighting and started responding, his hands moving from hesitant touches to desperate, bruising grips on your hips.
The "good man" was drowning, and as you leaned down to bite softly at his earlobe, you knew he was finally ready to let himself sink.
The friction was absolute, a searing, rhythmic heat that made your vision swim. That super soldier body of his was fucking delicious all hard, unyielding muscle and radiating warmth.
The sheer, heavy weight of his cock filling you up was enough to make your toes curl into the velvet. But it wasn't just the physical fullness that had your pussy pulsing with every downward thrust; it was the sound.
Steve was a mess of broken, high pitched whimpers, his head tossing back and forth as you rode him with a predatory, relentless pace. He looked so goddamn helpless, like a poor, lost puppy caught in a storm of pleasure he wasn't prepared for.
"There you go, Stevie," you cooed, your voice dripping with a condescending sweetness as you leaned down to brush your hair against his sweaty skin. "Such a good boy for us, aren't you?"
He tried to find a moment of stability, his gaze flickering desperately to the side, searching for any kind of anchor in the madness. He found Bucky, but there was no salvation there.
Bucky was leaning over him, his expression a mix of predatory amusement and rough, boyish derision. He reached out, roughly ruffling Steve’s hair before his hand slid down to squeeze the back of his neck, pinning him into the cushions.
"Look at you," Bucky chuckled, the sound low and mocking as he watched Steve’s hips jerk under your weight. "The great Captain America, reduced to a whimpering little mess just because a lady’s sitting on ‘im. You're pathetic, Steve.”
Steve’s eyes were glazed, unfocused, as he struggled to keep his head straight.
"You're just a big, soft target for her, aren't you?" Bucky continued, his voice a rough, teasing growl that cut through Steve's haze.
He reached out and gave Steve’s cheek a playful, stinging slap, the kind of boyish roughhousing they’d done since they were kids in Brooklyn, but now it felt heavy with a new intent. "Look at him, darlin’. He’s practically begging for it. The big hero, shaking like a leaf because he can't handle a little bit of fun."
Steve let out a choked, humiliated sound, half sob and half moan, as he tried to hide his face in the crook of your neck. He was caught between the two of you, the shame of Bucky's mockery clashing violently with the overwhelming, primal need to just sink into you.
You felt the moment his control snapped. You tightened your internal muscles, a slow, rhythmic clenching of your walls that gripped his thick cock with punishing precision.
Steve’s eyes rolled back into his head, his breath hitching in a way that sounded almost like a sob. He was so close, his entire body vibrating with the effort of not just exploding inside you.
You leaned forward, your damp skin pressing against his, and whispered directly into his ear, your voice a sharp, teasing blade. "You going to orgasm early, Stevie? What an eager puppy. How are you going to please Peggy if you can't even keep it together now? You gotta make a dame orgasm first, remember?"
The words hit him like a physical blow.
He let out a long, broken whine, his head nodding frantically against the cushion as if your command was a holy scripture he had to obey. He was desperate to be the man you wanted him to be, even if it was the man you demanded.
His large, trembling hands finally found their way to your clit, his touch clumsy and uncoordinated as he struggled to find the rhythm you needed. You took pity on your poor best buddy; he was trying his goddamn best, and he was getting there, his movements growing more insistent even as he fought his own instincts.
"Look at him fumbling," Bucky’s voice cut through the heat, dripping with a cruel, playful mockery.
He reached out, his hand sliding from Steve’s neck to roughly shove his shoulder, making Steve stagger slightly against you. "Can't even find her clit without looking like he's trying to defuse a bomb. You're a real natural, Steve. A real smooth operator."
Bucky leaned closer, his eyes dancing with a predatory glint, his gaze dropping to where Steve’s clumsy fingers were working against you.
He reached out, his hand catching Steve’s wrist to guide it, his touch both a help and a humiliation. "Come on, Stevie, don't be shy. Show her you can actually handle it, or are you gonna cry for us to finish it for you?"
As Bucky’s hand guided Steve’s wrist, forcing his clumsy fingers to find the mark, you felt the sudden, frantic shift in his rhythm. The clumsiness vanished, replaced by a desperate, uncoordinated strength as he finally found the center of your pleasure.
He was working with the frantic energy of a man trying to survive a shipwreck, his large thumb pressing hard against your clit in a way that sent jolts of white hot electricity straight to your brain.
"There he is," Bucky purred, his voice a low, dark vibration as he watched the transformation. He leaned in even closer, his breath hot against Steve's ear, his hand moving from Steve's wrist to grip the back of his head, forcing him to stay focused on the task.
"Look at that. The soldier finally found his aim. Don't stop now, Stevie. You're almost there. Don't you dare go soft on her now."
Steve didn't even respond with words — he was beyond words, his entire existence narrowed down to the frantic, heavy friction of his thumb against you and the desperate need to satisfy the woman riding him.
The sheer force of his release left him completely undone. As the heavy, thick flood of his super soldier load continued to pulse deep inside you, Steve’s strength finally failed him.
He collapsed forward, his massive chest heaving against yours as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His large, trembling hands clutched at your back, his fingers digging into your skin with a desperate, clinging intensity, as if he were a drowning man finally finding land.
He was a wreck of a man, trembling with the aftershocks of a climax that had been far too fast and far too intense. Small, broken whimpers escaped him, muffled against your damp skin, as he rode the waves of his own exhaustion. He was so sensitive, so completely unraveled by the pleasure and the shame of his premature surrender.
Then, in a voice that was startlingly clear amidst the haze of lust and the heavy scent of sex, he spoke. It was a low, breathless murmur, stripped of all the grit and the soldier's bravado.
"Thank you," he whispered. The words came out in that sweet, earnest pastor voice that always made him sound so damnably pure — even when he was covered in sweat and sin.
It was a soft, reverent sound, a humble offering of gratitude that felt almost out of place in the wreckage of the room, yet it was so quintessentially Steve that it made your heart ache with a cruel sort of affection.
He clung to you, his breath hot and ragged against your skin, a man who had been completely conquered by pleasure and was now simply resting in the grace of your afterglow.
You let out a long, shaky exhale, the pleasure still humming through your nerves like a live wire.
You leaned back just enough to look down at him, your voice a low, sultry rasp. "Fuck, Steve," you breathed, a lazy, satisfied smirk playing on your lips. "I could stay on this cock all day long."
"Hello? Earth to yoo-hoo," Bucky’s voice cut through the heavy, post coital haze, sharp and impatient. He was leaning back, watching the two of you with a look of amused hunger. "You had your turn, sweetheart. Slide off already and take your cigar. You're hogging the view."
You rolled your eyes, letting out a soft huff of laughter as you playfully shoved Bucky’s shoulder. "Always so impatient, Buck," you teased.
With a loud, uninhibited moan that echoed in the quiet room, you pushed yourself off Steve, the sensation of sliding off his thick, spent length making your breath hitch one last time.
You moved with a lazy, feline grace, plumping yourself down on a nearby velvet couch and reaching for a cigar. You lit it, the first plume of smoke curling around your face as you settled in to watch the show.
Bucky didn't waste a second.
With a predatory grin, he unbuckled his trousers and pulled his own cock free, thick and eager. He didn't go for you, though; instead, he crawled back toward the still recovering Steve, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Don't think you're getting out of this that easy, Stevie," Bucky teased, his voice dropping into that rough, playful growl. He grabbed Steve’s hand, guiding it to his own length, before pulling Steve closer until their hips were nearly touching.
"Since you were so eager to finish, you can spend the rest of the night making up for that little performance. Now, rub 'em together. Let's see if you can actually handle a real man's pace."
Bucky forced Steve to sit up, his movements rough but not unkind, as he pressed their bodies together.
He grabbed Steve’s hand and forced it to wrap around his own cock, then pulled Steve’s hips flush against his own, guiding the friction so their slick, heavy lengths began to slide against one another.
The sound of skin slapping against skin, wet and rhythmic, filled the space between your exhales of cigar smoke.
"There you go," Bucky purred, his eyes fixed on Steve’s flushed, embarrassed face as he began to drive their cocks together in a steady, grinding motion. "Don't be shy, Stevie. Feel how much harder he is than you. Just follow my lead. Rub it good."
Steve let out a shaky breath, his eyes squeezed shut as the friction of Bucky’s cock against his own sent fresh jolts of electricity through his sensitive, post orgasm skin. He was so raw, so vulnerable, caught in the middle of this intense, rhythmic grinding that made his breath hitch with every slide.
"Look at him, honey," Bucky called out to you, his voice thick with his own rising heat as he increased the pressure, forcing their slick lengths to dance together in a wet, slapping rhythm. "He's still shaking. The big hero can't even handle a little bit of skin on skin without turning into a puddle. You seeing this?"
Steve let out a low, humiliated moan, his head dropping forward as he tried to hide his face, but Bucky wouldn't let him.
He reached up, gripping Steve's chin to force him to look up, to look at you, to witness his own undoing. "Don't be shy now, Stevie. Look at her. Show her how much of a man you can be when you're not just a whimpering mess."
Steve’s eyes flickered to yours, wide and swimming with a mixture of pure, unadulterated lust and a deep, soul crushing embarrassment.
He looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor, yet he couldn't stop the way his hips instinctively chased the friction Bucky was providing.
The wet, slapping sound of their cocks sliding against each other grew faster, more frantic, as Bucky leaned into the movement, his own breath hitching.
"That's it," Bucky growled, his voice dropping into a dark, commanding register as he increased the speed, his hips driving against Steve's with punishing intent.
"Rub it against me, Steve. Feel how much you want it like a cheap sleaze. Feel how much you need to keep up."
You leaned back, exhaling a long, slow plume of thick, grey smoke. As Steve’s eyes drifted toward you, wide and pleading, you leaned forward just enough to blow a cloud of fragrant smoke directly past his parted, trembling lips.
He inhaled it sharply, a soft, startled huff escaping him as the smoke curled around his mouth.
"There you go, Stevie," you cooed, reaching out to pat his flushed cheek with a condescending, affectionate touch. "Such a good boy, taking it all so well."
Steve let out a broken, breathless sound, his voice cracking as he tried to find some semblance of dignity.
"Darlin', please," he whimpered, his eyes searching yours for a reprieve, but all he found was your amused, predatory gaze. "It's too much — Bucky, please, just a second —"
"A second? You've had plenty of seconds, pal," Bucky barked, his voice a rough, teasing growl. "You're already turning red again, Stevie. Don't tell me you're already losing it after just one round?"
Bucky’s hand tightened on Steve’s jaw, his fingers firm as he forced the soldier's chin back up, directing his gaze away from your teasing smirk and straight into Bucky's hungry, mocking eyes.
Steve’s head lolled slightly, his breath coming in shallow, frantic hitches. He was so goddamn sensitive!
The mere friction of Bucky’s cock sliding against his own, combined with the humiliating weight of Bucky's hand on his face, was enough to send him spiralling right back toward the edge.
"Bucky — wait, it's — it's too much," Steve gasped, his voice a high, strained thread of sound. His hips gave a desperate, involuntary jerk, trying to both escape and lean into the sensation both escape and lean into the sensation.
He was so raw that even the slight shift in Bucky’s grip felt like a lightning strike to his nerves. His eyes were blown wide, swimming with a desperate, frantic kind of lust that made him look completely unraveled.
"Don't you dare pull away now, Stevie," Bucky growled, his voice dropping into a dark, commanding register as he increased the speed, his hips driving against Steve's with punishing intent.
"You're right on the edge, aren't you? I can feel you shaking. Just take it. Rub it against me until you can't take it anymore."
Steve let out a choked, high pitched moan, his head tossing back as he surrendered to the friction. "God, Bucky, Doll — m’cumming again, fuck, m’gonna cum."
The tension finally snapped with a violent, uncoordinated shudder.
Steve let out a high, strangled cry, his entire body arching so hard his spine nearly left the cushions as he hit his second peak. He came hard and fast, a frantic, desperate spray that coated both his own length and Bucky’s as he bucked helplessly against the friction.
Bucky didn't let up, grunting low in his throat as he drove through Steve's tremors, his own orgasm following a second later in a heavy, pulsing surge that left them both panting and slick with a mess of shared heat.
Bucky leaned in, his eyes darkening with a predatory intent as he reached out to grab a handful of Steve’s golden locks, intending to tilt his head back and angle those whining, parted lips directly over his cock.
But before he could make the move, you lazily flicked the glowing butt of your cigar toward him, a playful warning. "Don't," you said, rolling your eyes with a smirk. "We can wait till the honeymoon."
You shared a knowing, silent look with Bucky — a brief truce in the midst of the chaos before you reached over and nudged a glass toward Steve’s lips, helping him take a much needed sip.
"Plus, I love his little sounds," you added, watching him tremble. "He’s like a puppy. It’s cute."
Bucky rolled his eyes at your teasing, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he shifted, plopping himself down on Steve's other side, effectively sandwiching him between the two of you.
He reached down, his hand finding Steve’s trembling fingers and guiding them firmly to his own cock.
"C'mon then, Stevie," Bucky urged, a devilish grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Help your best mate out. Don't just sit there looking pretty."
You leaned in from the other side, your lips finding Steve's plump, swollen ones in a deep, lingering kiss that tasted of whiskey and heat.
As you pulled back, you took his other hand, guiding it upward until his palm was cupping the weight of your breast, his fingers clumsily kneading the soft flesh.
"C'mon, Stevie," you whispered against his mouth, your voice a sultry, commanding purr. "You've always been so good at multitasking."
Poor, sweet Steve.
He was caught in a delicious, overwhelming pincer maneuver, his senses completely besieged by the two of you. He let out a whimper so high and sweet it was practically a trill, a sound of pure, overwhelmed devotion that made your chest tighten with amusement.
His eyes were swimming with a mixture of exhaustion and a desperate, frantic need to please both of you at once. He was caught in a sensory storm — the taste of your lips, the weight of your breast in his hand, and the demanding, slick friction of Bucky’s cock against his palm.
"I am," he gasped, his voice trembling so violently it was barely a whisper. He swallowed hard, trying to steady his breathing as he squeezed your breast with a clumsy, reverent grip.
"I'm listening, sweetheart, Bucky — I swear, I'm listening to you both." He let out another soft, pathetic whine as Bucky nudged him harder, forcing his hand to move in a more rhythmic, insistent stroke. "Just — give me a second to catch my breath.”
He was a man of iron, a legend of war, but here, pinned between his best friends, he was nothing but a beautiful, shivering mess of nerves. "I'll be the best," he promised, a desperate, breathless vow that sounded more like a prayer. "I'll do everything you want — just — don't stop. Please, don't stop."
His fingers tightened on your breast, his touch becoming more purposeful even as his eyes remained unfocused and heavy with lust.
He was trying so hard to find his rhythm, to balance the demanding pressure of Bucky's hand and the intoxicating sensation of your mouth, all while his own body continued to thrum with the aftershocks of his previous release.
He was truly, hopelessly, trying his absolute best to be the perfect, obedient puppy you both wanted him to be.
Steve groaned as he blinked his eyes open, the morning light feeling far too bright for his pounding head. He sat up slowly, a sharp wince escaping him as his entire body protested the movement.
His muscles ached with a deep, heavy soreness, and as he caught his reflection in the mirror across the room, he saw the evidence of the night's intensity: dark bite marks on his shoulders and angry red scratches tracing the line of his neck.
His memory was a fragmented, hazy mess. He could vividly recall the sultry heat of your lap dance and the way the smoke from your cigar had curled around his face, but everything after that was a blur of sensation and overwhelming pleasure.
His gaze drifted to the nightstand, which was cluttered with the gifts you and Bucky had left for him as part of his bachelor party celebration. There were fresh flowers, a few bottles of high end whiskey, and a stack of good luck cards.
He reached for the top one, his fingers trembling slightly as he unfolded the heavy cardstock. His eyes scanned the elegant, teasing handwriting, and a deep flush crept up his neck, clashing with the marks left there by your teeth and Bucky's nails.
To our favourite soldier,
May your new life be as intense and uninhibited as your bachelor party.
We wish you all the happiness in the world, but we also wish we could be the ones to give it to you every single night.
He swallowed hard, his heart thudding against his ribs as he read the final line, which was signed with a playful, possessive flourish:
Signed, by your two best friends,
the only ones who can truly fulfil your needs.
Steve let out a long, shaky breath, leaning back against the pillows as the sheer weight of the implication settled over him.
The ache in his hips and the lingering sensitivity between his thighs made him realise that the "honeymoon" might have to be a much more private, much more intense affair than he had originally planned.
If the bachelor party was any indication, the trip abroad was going to be less about sightseeing and more about finally letting his two best friends fulfil every single one of those "needs" they had so boldly promised.
$ tag @twentytomidnight @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @froggibus
AU where the avengers are the mightiest heroes only for money, fame, and power.
The Dark Avengers have a group chat that was originally created for missions. Now it's mostly them arguing over who got more of your attention that day. Clint started keeping score as a joke. However, as time goes on, nobody knows if he’s joking anymore.
Every time you walk into a room, at least one of them immediately sits up straighter. They'll never admit it, but they all pay attention to where you are and what you're doing.
Tony acts like your office is his second office. He'll casually wander in, sit down, and start talking while you're working. If you point out that he has an entire floor dedicated to himself, he'll claim your office has "better vibes."
Steve always makes sure you have a seat beside him during meetings. Nobody else is allowed to take it. The one time someone did, Steve glared daggers into their head until they moved.
Natasha keeps a mental list of everything you like. Your favorite coffee order, your favorite snacks, your preferred restaurants. She never tells anyone she remembers these things.
Thor absolutely brags about you. Someone compliments how smoothly an event went? Thor immediately starts talking about how talented and hardworking you are as if he's your proud parent.
Clint has a habit of appearing whenever you're taking a break. You could be sitting alone for five seconds before he somehow materializes beside you asking what you're doing.
Bruce likes working in the same room as you. Neither of you even have to talk. He just finds your presence calming, though he'd rather die than admit that out loud.
Whenever you're sick, the tower becomes strangely quiet (they normally are fighting 24/7). Nobody wants to admit they're worried, but they all find excuses to check on you throughout the day.
If someone keeps you late at work unnecessarily, the team gets irritated. They don't care about most employees, but they care when you're exhausted because of someone else's incompetence.
They all secretly love when you praise them. These are people who receive public admiration every day, but somehow a simple "Good job" from you means more than an entire crowd cheering their names.
Nobody is allowed to make fun of you except them. The moment someone else says something rude, the atmosphere in the room immediately changes. Suddenly six of the most dangerous people in the country are staring at one unfortunate soul.
They all try to give you gifts, but in completely different ways. Tony buys expensive things, Thor brings treasures from his travels, Clint gives you random trinkets he thinks you'll like, Natasha leaves useful items on your desk, and Bruce fixes things before you realize they're broken.
Your office becomes the safest place in the tower. Arguments stop when you walk in. Tempers cool down. Even the Dark Avengers seem more normal around you, which honestly confuses everyone who witnesses it.
The funniest part is that every single one of them thinks they're being subtle about their favoritism. They are not. Every employee in the building knows you're the closest thing the Dark Avengers have to a weakness, and everyone knows better than to test just how protective they can become.
CONTENT WARNINGS! all my fics contain dark content including, but not limited to, noncon, dubcon, and explicit descriptions of violence and abuse. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. 18+, please!
Girls, this one is pure, absolute filth and nothing else. Like, oh my god, this is smut city.
There is little you enjoy more than spending time with Bucky. While you love everything about him, you can’t deny that, a little vainly, a big strength in the relationship is that Bucky will worship the ground you walk on. You’ve had guys like you in the past and of course you’ve dated, but none were as devoted to you as Bucky is, as starstruck and pathetic for you as he is. If you said the word, he’d lick the bottom of your shoe and thank you over and over for letting him do it. Of course, though, you wouldn’t exploit your power over him like that, though it is fun to imagine, to sort of push him a little sometimes, just teasing. Like when he drops to his knees at the foot of the bed, begging to taste you and swearing he’ll make you feel better than you could imagine, and you pretend to think it over for a few seconds. He’s shaking and desperately clawing at your legs. “Baby, please! P— please, I can’t— I can’t take it, I need to taste you, oh god!, please let me—” And lord knows you want him just as badly as he wants you.
He’s coming over tonight, and as a little treat, you decided to get some lingerie. You’re admittedly a little nervous about it—before Bucky, you never would have definitively classified yourself as ‘sexy,’ and always felt a little awkward with exhibitionism, but you’re feeling pretty good about this.
For your first set, you certainly went with an ambitious choice: you picked white lace because Bucky often calls you an angel, over and over, he’ll say it like a prayer. When he’s in you so deep you can’t do anything more than whimper and scratch your nails down his back, his pathetic voice reaches you through his pants and whines: “God, this… fuck, this is fucking heaven—” he breaks off to let out a strangled, broken moan that makes you let out a curse of your own and clench tighter around him, which only increases his whimpering and makes him double his efforts, dragging his thick length in and out of you like it’s the only thing he knows how to do “—You’re— fuck! — You… You’re my own… own personal fucking angel, baby. God, you must be an angel, this has to be heaven—” And you never know how he manages to go on and on when his voice is strained, his muscles taught with the effort of not coming within the first few minutes of being inside of you. You can’t remember a time when he hasn’t made you come at least twice before he dared focus on himself, never sliding in before you’ve come on his tongue and/or his fingers.
You pull on the bra and stun yourself with how bold it is, though maybe you just don’t know all that much about lingerie. It barely contains your breasts and consists mostly of thin mesh leaving little covered except beautiful lace trim running around the cups. When the bell sounds, you jump up and rush to the front door. Bucky is coming over for what is supposed to be just dropping off some books you left at his place, but once you saw the white lace set in the store earlier that day, everything changed.
With a deep breath, you open the door, posed casually but a little provocatively, with posture that makes your breasts a little higher and one hip raised.
“Hi, honey, I…” he trails off and you can practically see his mouth run dry. You have to suppress a smirk as his blue eyes scan you from down to up until they meet yours, and you swear you watch his pupils dilate in real time. But it’s you offering an innocent smile that sends him over the edge.
In a flash, he’s dropped the tote bag he was holding and is instead using that hand to grasp at your cheek, caging your face against his with one hand while the other desperately slides up and down your side before snaking around to your lower back and pulling you so your chest is to his, kicking the door shut behind him. He’s relentless; once his lips smash onto yours, you know it’s over, and the little game you had planned was spinning out of your control. But still, you try to have a little fun with it.
When you finally manage to break away from the kiss, its absence making Bucky whine, you let out a breathless chuckle. “Well, hello to you, too.”
His gaze rakes over your form again, up and down, and when his eyes meet yours again, he can’t even speak. He looks like he can’t even breathe, chest stuttering and eyes watering with the restraint it takes him not to pounce on you.
“What is it?” you ask, sweetly, pouting up at him and tilting your head to the side. When he doesn’t respond, you slide your hand over his shoulder, making him jump, and round so you can grip the back of his neck and pull him closer to you. “Words, Bucky. Use your words.”
That seems to snap him out of his silence, but definitely not out of whatever trance you’ve brought him into. He swallows thickly, and when he finally gets his voice to work again, it’s hoarse and raspy, and even still, he can hardly string a sentence together: “You— Fuck, baby, you gotta let me— I need to—” But his rambling is broken off by the soft rake of your fingers through his hair, which makes him shudder and his knees threaten to buckle.
He tries to kiss you again but you step back with a raised eyebrow, and when he realises you’re not letting his words go unspoken, he matches you step for step, still letting out moans of “I need to— Please let me— God, you look—” until he’s got you up against the wall. When you think the fun’s over, he drops to his knees in front of you and inhales your scent deeply. His arms clasp around your thighs, squeezing them together so harshly it would nearly hurt if it didn’t feel so good. He closes his eyes and dips his head, letting out a shaky breath and trying to regain his composure. When he looks up at you, his eyes are big and wet and it’s making it hard for you to hold out.
“Baby,” he whines, and presses himself against you with a moan which makes you gasp. If he had it in him, he might have made a playfully snide comment about how he’s not the only one so desperate, but you’ve never seen him like this. He’s completely out of it, he’s on the verge of weeping at your feet. “I— ohhhh…” he groans and squeezes you harder. “Let me worship you. Use me, baby, tell me what to do and I’ll do it, you’ve just— you’ve got to let me taste you, I can’t take it—”
“Bucky, honey—” you begin but are interrupted by his strangled moan. “Fuck!” you startle and need to lean against the wall for support. “Don’t… don’t make that sound.”
You know he’s really gone when that earns not even a smirk from him. “You’re an angel,” he continues, “Oh, god, you’re a fucking angel, you’re my religion.” He pauses from his prayers to press wet kisses over your thighs, breathless as he pants against your soft skin, “Let me— I’ll do anything you want, fuck, I’ll let you do anything you want, whatever, just— just please!” You can feel his tears drop onto your skin and reach your hand down to tilt his chin up.
“Poor darling…” you coo sympathetically at him, bottom lip puffed out and eyebrows pulled into a show of concern. “You need something from me?” You swear you’ve never been like this, but this desperation is sort of bringing out a little bit of a sadist in you. Bucky just helplessly stares up at you with red eyes, and with the way you’re getting a little desperate yourself, you don’t have it in you to draw out your teasing any longer. “That’s alright, honey. I know what you need.” When you lean down to kiss him—softly, intimately, tenderly and slowly—the broken whimper he lets slip past his lips and onto yours lets you know neither of you can hold out any longer.
Suddenly impatient, you grip his shirt collar and tug him to stand, immediately crashing his lips onto yours and walking your bodies to your bedroom where he all but crashes on top of you as you fall to the bed, saved at the last minute by sticking his hands out on either side of you, but his arms are wobbly, his entire body is trembling like you’ve never seen before. And just as you’re about to ask him if he’s okay, he dives to suck on your right nipple through the mesh of your bra. You gasp and slide your fingers into his brown hair, sputtering out, “B— Bucky—” and that makes him stop.
He removes his lips and presses his forehead into your chest, looking down. Suddenly, instead of that whiny pleading, his voice is now deep and dark. “Don’t say my name like that, or I’m really gonna fucking lose it.”
You bite your lip to hide a smile, but it doesn’t work. Deciding to see just how far you can take this, you raise the pitch of your voice, turning to being the beggar now. “Bucky,” you moan, breathlessly.
That’s his undoing.
His head snaps up and he lowers himself to kiss you deeply again, one hand twisting at your nipple while he grinds himself down onto you for some relief of his own. He’s so hard it’s genuinely painful and makes him let out a sob when you slide your hand down to run your palm over his clothed crotch.
When he breaks the kiss, you think he’s pulling up for air (because lord knows you need it) but he instead dives straight for your nipple and tears the mesh fabric away with his fucking teeth, letting your tit spill out. You gasp at the display but your disbelief is immediately swallowed by intense pleasure as Bucky sucks just right, causing you to throw your head back and arch up further into his mouth. He finally slides a hand between your legs and pushes two thick fingers inside of you, making you let out an earth shattering cry and grip onto the back of his neck tighter. He responds to your moan with a groan of his own and speeds up his work. He’s too far gone to hear you breathlessly moan about how you’re on the verge of coming, and so is slightly surprised when he suddenly feels you clench around his finger. Swirling his tongue around your nipple, he moves to add a thumb to your clit but you’ve already come undone underneath him, your body sensitive to aftershocks as evidenced by your yelp when the pad of his thumb connects with your button.
He wants to look up at your flushed face but knows he can’t or he’ll really lose the minute amount of self control he’s barely holding onto right now, and so instead, he slips off the bed and onto his knees, quickly pulling your legs to rest over his shoulders without any hesitation. He hears you suck in a deep breath like you’re about to say something but the words die on your tongue, overtaken by the torturous moan that escapes you when his greedy mouth attaches itself to your weeping and over-sensitive cunt. Your thighs lock around his head making him brace his cold metal hand over your warm belly to keep you from squirming at his filthy ministrations.
You don’t know how long he’s got you there, you lost count after your fourth orgasm which he rode out just as he did every other despite your wriggling and protests and the tears streaming down your face. When he finally looks up, it hits you that there’s something deeper going on.
“But I haven’t even fucked you yet, angel, god!” He groans and presses himself into the mattress, letting out a whimper. “Please let me—”
You want to say no but you’re lightheaded and dizzy and you can’t get your brain to form the thoughts, let alone get your mouth to say the words. You’re groaning while he’s undressing and before you know it he’s ripped your panties off of you and pressed his tip against your entrance. He nearly fucking falls forward when his leaky cock only lightly nudges your folds. “F— fuck! Oh! Baby, angel, I— I need to— I’ll fucking die if I don’t, I’m so serious, babe, I’ve gotta— I’ve gotta—” He chokes on air, cutting off his words as he slides into you, bottoming out almost immediately due to your earlier slick still coating your walls (and his face). When you wrap your legs around his waist and squeeze him even tighter, he’s one million percent sure he’s never been closer to God than he is at this moment.
Through the haze, he finally makes out a sound, a voice — You’re sobbing beneath him, and your hands are weakly pushing at his shoulders, trying to get him to relent. You’re saying something about it being too much or too big or something but he can’t focus on a word you’re saying over how good you fucking feel, and he tells you: “Baby, I— I can’t hear a word you’re fuckin’ saying, I— Shit! I just— I can’t—” Both of you have tears streaming down your faces; you’re overstimulated and want him to stop but he’s only just getting started. It’s never going to be enough now. And as much as he hates to say it, you’re kind of ruining the moment.
“Mmm, just sh— shut up with that, okay?” He presses a hand against your mouth and uses the other to pin your free hand to the bed. “You fucking knew you were driving me crazy, you knew what you were doing, so you’re not a fucking victim, alright?” He accentuates that with a harsh thrust that has you arching your back and letting out a scream muffled by his hand. “I was wrong, baby. You aren’t an angel, you’re a fucking devil sent here to destroy me, but, god, I’d still do anything for you, do anything to be inside you, to taste you, fucking hell, you can burn me to ashes if you just let me fucking have you!”
✪
Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are unbelieveably appreciated.
Read more here: Bucky Barnes Masterlist
If you liked this, try Polaroids.
[thank you for the support, my beloved taglist; @keito-123, @vogueprincess, @mybabygirllove, @chinggay85-blog, @10ava01, @darkles-6, @dreamlesssleepsaga, @cjand10, @hydrangel1c]
18+ af, minors dni. Dub con elements, please ignore if it's not your thing. Back at it with a dark Bucky who has the biggest corruption kink and loves to manipulate the sweet doll across the hall who makes him have the most unholy thoughts. He can't help how badly he craves for her to take care of him, comfort him, all while he pretends he has no idea what's happening with his body after all the abuse from Hydra. His mind is too fried. He's just too innocent with so many big feelings. So many big, thick, achy, leaky feelings-
Oop-
It started off with small things. Patching him up after a rough mission. Making him dinner. Feeding him. Falling asleep in her lap. Seeking her out when he has bad dreams. Calling her mommy when he was especially needy and just wanted to be held. Feel extra close. Around her, he's just a clingy little baby Bucky who loves to nurse from his pretty mommy for comfort.
It's all perfectly innocent. Sometimes after a nightmare. Sometimes before bed. Her nipples are so warm against his tongue, his pink lips sealed around every bit of her peaked bud. Who was she to deny him with the way he cuddled his face into her chest with the quietest "Mommy, please?"
Of course she lets him take her top off, it's nothing sexual, purely to comfort him, his gentle gurgles quickly turning into soft snores within minutes.
She'd always take care of him.
Like now when you were watching tv, lounging in a loose tank top. He splays himself across your lap and you idly play with his hair while he gets comfy, only wearing his boxers. He’s so cute and precious, reaching up to latch onto your breasts, tugging at your top so you'd take it off. He nuzzles his face in, struggling to maintain his facade of just needing to be held, no longer able to ignore the way his cock needed attention too.
You're so used to letting him take what he needs, you don't notice his extra squirming, still focused on your show until he takes your hand to show you where he actually needs you.
"Mommy, it’s hard" he whines while your eyes grow wide. It's always fuckin' hard around you, pretty girl.
He’d never done that before, spreading his thighs further so you could see where he needed you most, blinking up at you innocently while his thick cock pressed against the fabric, rubbing your hand over his bulge.
"B-Baby?"
"Mommy, help" he continues to pout before going back to sucking while shoving your hand down his boxers to his achy erection. You feel your heart beat out of your chest with your hand now wrapped around his velvety shaft, absolutely torn over what to do. It wasn't his fault his body was reacting this way. He was asking the one person he felt safe around to take care of him. He obviously didn't know any better.
God, you felt awful over how frustrated he would have felt not knowing who else to turn to when he was in such a cloudy headspace. You stay frozen until he puts his hand over yours, showing you how to touch him, stroking up and down with just the right pressure.
"S-sometimes I do this by myself" He moans between tugging your nipples between his lips, lifting his hips up to take off his briefs. His balls are heavy between his thighs, full and aching after waiting months for this very moment. "It feels good, is it bad?"
"No sweet boy, it's normal" You coo, giving him exactly what he wants while his body runs hot, his hips rutting up to chase more of your soft hand, "I got you, don't worry, relax Jamie" You pet his hair while stroking his cock, his mouth working between your breasts, lost in his own world. Even now, he looked so innocent, a deep blush on his cheeks while you made him feel good, it was going to take years to help him remember-
"It feels good here mommy" He wraps your hand around his dripping, swollen head, his hips pushing up, eyes nearly rolling back at the way his cock feels in your hand. He knows he's gonna blow-
"R-right there, m'gonna-make a mess" He moans between a shy pout and of course you reassure him you'll clean him right up because he's doing nothing wrong and all of this was perfectly natural. His body was responding to touch exactly the way it had to, he was safe with you-
"MMPHHHH" He cries out as the first stream shoots out, load after load still pouring out of his stiff cock. You wipe him down and he spends the rest of the night cuddled up with soft blankets, hiding his smirk with his face tucked into your neck while you rub his back.
I could stop here but just imagine what happens when he decides to get more bold.
"Do you ever feel like this?" He asks innocently and you nearly squeak in surprise. He waits intently for an answer and you pause before answering, carefully considering your words.
"Um, sometimes baby"
Liar, he thinks. I hear you pretty girl, always playing with that pretty pussy thinking I can't hear you.
"Can I help you?" You swear his voice drops an octave and so does your stomach. It felt so fucking wrong, why were you responding to him like this, he wasn't thinking clearly and you were getting turned on-"Like how you helped me?"
"No! No Jamie, you-you don't have to"
Oh, but he wants to because you're so good to him and it's not fair he doesn't help you too. That's how he manages to get you naked and spread out on his bed, shoving his cock in your pussy.
"M'I doing it right?" He still looks at you with the sweetest lost expression but you can't help but notice there's something darker in his eyes. His whines melt into groans, his pace growing faster. "M'so hard mommy"
"J-Jamie, I-" You're so confused over what to do, moans escaping your lips, your pussy swallowing his cock back in each time he thrusts.
"Tell me to stop mommy" You swear you hear a smirk in his voice, his movements suddenly more calculated, his hips perfectly rolling to hit that spot your fingers can never reach, "Tell Jamie to stop"
"St-Jamie, oh God" You pant, your orgasm barreling towards you and you want to scream stop because something is off but his hands snake between your bodies and he finds your clit- "Please!"
"M'gonna think about this when I touch myself, mommy" He rubs you faster, needing you to cum instead of worrying your pretty head, "Can I? Can I think of you when I make a mess? M'gonna make one now, I-
He couldn't wait for you to tell him why your belly would be getting bigger and bigger over the next few months.
Summary - You don't want to leave, you want to stay here and be mine, you want to be mine
Minors do NOT interact with my account or posts as they contain NSFW content which this one includes: kidnapping, blood spilled, drug use, age gap, non-con ish, forest sex, name calling, cream pie and choking.
Being the daughter of the famous playboy millionaire and the amazing iron man, has its pros and cons, fake friends, suitors asking for your hand, some begging, some bribbing and kidnapping attempts that weren't long lived, but it all came down to the same thing every time like clock work "no" he said not taking his eyes away from the screen taking a sip of his coffee. My mouth agape "why dad everyone is gonna be there" I pleaded looking at pepper for support, but her face was turned away, he turned his chair towards me giving me a dead pan look, his glasses falling a bit off his nose the architectural hologram illuminating his face a dull blue.
"Well not everyone is gonna be there because you are not going" I gritted my teeth storming out ignoring the few glances I got from the other towers occupants, slamming the door to my room grabbing my phone from the desk. My eyes flickered through the different notifications I focused on texting my friends ignoring pepper as she stood in the doorway, she cleared her throat "whatever you have to say pepper doesn't matter, it sucks being a stark" I blurted falling back onto my bed "having bodyguards spy on me from every corner, having everyone fake being friends with me to get to the ohh so amazing tony stark" my eyes closed in annoyance.
"Wow that sucks" her voice held a bit of humour her eyes followed me as I fell back onto my bed, I scrolled through the millions of texts of people asking me if I'm going to the party some somewhat felt kinda genuine while others just asked to to supply the whole party with alcohol and food, I rolled my eyes I loved getting attention but it wasn't for the right reasons "how about this" pepper came to stand close to me making me raise up and look at her,"I'll turn off the back exits cameras you have until 10:30" excitement boiled inside me as I leaped up hugging her tightly "but you have to take Evie with you" she huffed catching her breath as I let her go 'yes yes yes' I exclaimed excitedly as I rushed to my walk in closet chosing out an outfit as she walked off giggling.
The dress I chose was black and short stopping above mid thigh, it was strapless and supported my boobs nicely, the simple lace design glistened with sparkles, I moved on with simple makeup except the lips which I used a deep red that could consider a blood like colour puckering my lips I added a clear gloss giving it a final touch my body shivered as the hair on the back of my neck rose, an unsteady feeling of beginning watched filled me, "Jarvis is anyone in my room" my voice was soft as I connected to the robots signal 'there is no one in or near your quarters ms yn, should I send your father an alert?' his voice fazed out a bit but I didn't think much of it.
I opened my jewelry case grabbing the black necklace hanging it around my neck I grabbed my phone placing it into my bag and slung it over my shoulder, peering around the corner of my door making sure the cameras were off before sneaking out 'were we off to night yn' Evie's robotic voice spoke quietly "we're living life to the fullest Evie" I murmured smiling as I got into the unmarked get away car dad always had encase of emergencies "25 downtown avenue" I spoke, the GPS pinged online and the car started to move, I clicked my seatbelt on and went onto my phone I took a photo sending it out on my status with the caption 'the life of the party is coming' instantly gaining about 100 replies.
Somewhere in a hydra base.
"Winter Soldier is ready for take off" a operative spoke into the bases mic as he stared at the young girls picture she had posted only moments prior, their fake account beginning one of your 'close friends' spam accounts which you didn't question because she had multiple "get the prize then get out you got that" the winter soldier stood emotionless as the commander spat in his face, his body was tense in the gear strapped tightly to his body the leather surely leaving marks, his hand lifted wiping the spit off his cheek as the commander turned his back walking out the room.
"I've sent the coordinates to your GPS, make sure she doesn't have any trackers or that your tailed" a operative walked along side him to his motorbike, and turned his tablet to Bucky "your target is yn stark daughter of Tony stark we need her ALIVE" the winter soldiers eyes moved down to the tablet and gritted his teeth under his mask feeling his cock stir in his pants, he nodded before switching on the bike and heading out but the image of you never leaving his mind, he didn't know if it was the target on your back or the mer sight of you that allured him, it was strange, it didn't frighten or disturb him it angered him to the point where his whole body reacted, his fists clenched white around the handle bar of his bike, his eyes glared back hearing the engine of the hydras van trailing after him.
He knew one thing, he had to find out what it is that your doing to him one way or another he will get it out of you even if it risks the mission "entering targets approximity" the operatives voice dragged him out of his unaware state, his bike slowed down to park in a dimly lit alleyway and the van taking refuge by the door of the building for a quick get away "winter soldier is a go" the voices made him want to rip out the ear piece and get this shit over and done with alone no voices telling him where to go or what to do, he climbed off the bike walking towards the building getting a few touches and hollers of tipsy pent up drunks some trying to hold onto him but his steps were consistent and theirs were too wobbly, the blaring music filled his ear getting louder and louder through the doors "find the commotion find the prize" he listened to his commanders words his eyes locking on target.
Back to you
The burning sensation from the alcohol running down my throat almost made me gag, a tight smile was forced onto my lips as I was giving another one, bodies of a few friends and strangers were pressed tightly against me as I danced on the dance floor, it was so packed I almost couldn't breathe "who the fuck is that" a woman slurred as she leaned against me she was too drunk to keep her hand up very long but my eyes met his and I knew she was talking about him, I rolled my shoulders getting her off me making my way towards him my breath hitchhiking as I have been caught "I don't need a body guard" I yelled so he can hear me over the music, my eyes dragged up and down him his gear was nothing I've seen before.
He didn't answer just stood there staring at me my eyes looked around him a bit more something seemed off til I saw the red little patch "fuck" I muttered backing away from him his steps quickly following mine I turned and ran pushing my way through the crowd towards the back exit I could feel him right behind me, I blinked my gaze was starting to blur and my head spin 'what the fuck was happening' my steps faulted as I pushed through the doors making me collapse onto the floor, my breathing was laboured I used my remaining strength to try crawl away from him back he bent down grabbing my ankle dragging me towards him, my body scraping against the concrete making me scream out in pain "that's enough" my eyes glazed with tears turned to the voice seeing a few more agents coming towards us.
"soldat stand down" the man barked at the soldier behind me but he just stepped over my and grabbing my hair to pull me up, I screamed and clawed at him as he dragged me towards them, the group raised their guns aiming at the man "winter soldier stand down now" he yelled my eyes glared up at the man holding me terror settled at the bottom of my stomach I heard of him I've seen the footage of the night he killed my grandparents "Хотел бы я посмотреть, как ты попытаешься победить меня, а я в это время убью твой приз" (I'd like to see you try to beat me while I kill your prize in the meantime) their bodies stiffened at his words, they fired warning shots as he took out his gun pointing it at them, my body trembled with fear my head still spinning from the spiked drink.
His grip on my hair tighten as he fired back each bullet shot hit its target till it was only the commander left "Ты больше не можешь меня контролировать" (You can't control me anymore) the commander fired his own gun but hit his metal arm instead, the winter soldier fired his gun again hitting the man in the middle of his head my eyes closed tightly fearing the same fate but instead I was dragged to the van and thrown in the back I tried raising myself up as I heard the nearing sirens but my body was to weak I was thrown around as van started to move getting further and further from the sirens "why are you doing this" my voice cracked my throat sore and dry, I didn't get a reply, my eyes started to droop and my body grew too tired to fight, I collapsed against the vans hard floor my vision going black 'I should've stayed home'.
I woke up my chest raising and falling as I panted my eyes were quick to move around the room but the light above me was too bright, I hissed as I tried to move my eyes jerking to look down at my hands, they widened seeing some of my skin already covered in red my breathe wavered and my eyes began to fill with tears "why is this happening to me" I cried out, the constraints burned against my skin as I tried to move "Я бы не стал пытаться избежать кровавой розы" (I wouldn't try escaping blood rose) his voice made my body shake and my head fall as I heard him step closer, my eyes stayed focused on the floor.
His metal arm reached out gripping my chin forcing me to look up at him "what the fuck have you done to me кровавая роза (blood rose)" his voice was deep and sharp his dark blue eyes staring into mine filled with anger, I shook my head free laughing bitterly "me I've done nothing to you" I spat onto his boot I flinched as he raised his hand but it wasn't to slap me but fish out the knife in his pocket my eyes glazed with tears and fear I started to beg "please don't do this, if you want money I'll get you money I'll get you anything you want" "Заткнись" (shut up) he barked, his free hand pushed my head aside I closed my eyes tightly feeling the cold metal press to my skin but no pain was given, I heard the soft thud as my necklace drop to the floor flinching as he stomped on it destroying it completely before leaving me alone.
I felt hot but the room was cold my eyes were atleast adjusting to the light, I could see that I was in the basement which was surprisingly clean except for the dirty boxes that lay around the room and even though he wasn't in here I still felt like I was being watched I peered over my legs down to the floor where the crushed remnants of my necklace lay the feeling of dread and terror taking place in my chest "how are you going to find me" I whispered my felt felt sore and tired each time I closed them the blank space grew longer and longer till I fell asleep.
I don't even think I rested my eyes for 10 minutes till I felt him raise my chin my eyes looked at him with fear but they calmed seeing him, he didn't have the same rage in his eyes as he did before he pressed a glass to my lips "drink" he said his voice didn't have the sharp edge to it I opened my lips letting the cool liquid slide down my throat soothing it once the glass was empty he kneeled down placing it on the floor grabbing a few other things one of them a cloth, I hissed as he pressed it onto my scraps I had gotten before, with quick motions he had cleaned the wounds "why did you disobey hydra" I asked between grunts of pain "their going to kill you" I breathed slowly my eyes looking at his but his didn't meet mine.
"Answer me" I raised my voice making his face snap to mine, the fury in his eyes returning "you can't just kidnap the most wealthy guys daughter, go rogue from the most feared villain group and not want anything in return" the anger and fear was clear in my voice as I spoke to him my head following his movement as he stood up "just let me go if your not getting anything out of it" I pleaded but he just turned walking out "I promise I won't tell anyone please" I screamed after him but all I heard was silence, when time had past I don't know if it was hours or days he would bring me some heated up frozen meal and water, he never spoke or replied to me, just let me out when I needed to use the toilet or shower I'd have to use the bathroom attached to the basement then he'd take me right back to the chair he was nicer then the other kidnappers I've had.
But this time was different he didn't bring down any water or food he just stood infront of me for a few seconds before undoing my restraints I opened my mouth to speak but I knew it was useless, I watched with confusion as he just walked out leaving me here free my eyebrows creased together 'maybe it's a cruel test' I just waited, waited till the feeling got too much I slowly raised myself up to my feet but stumbled as I tried to walk my legs were to weak I layed there still my chest raising and falling slowly as I took it in it felt weird being free from the chair, I stiffened hearing his footsteps near my body trembled as it thought of punishments he might give me instead he stood beside me bending down pushing his arms under my legs and head lifting me into his arms.
My cheeks turned a pinkish colour as I fell against his body I felt worried but also something I couldn't describe this was way different then the way he treated me before, my hands rushed to wrap themselves around his neck as he carried me up the stairs his body flinched feeling my arms around him, my eyes closed as we reached the top step the light being too bright for my eyes it was day time, I took a deep breath it wasn't fresh air but atleast it was better then the basements somewhat stale air, he placed me onto a soft cushioned surface which I presumed to be a couch "stay" was all he said before I heard his footsteps disappearing my eyes soon opened as they adjusted to the light I looked around the room, it was nothing special no pictures or anything on the walls the couch was the only settable surface in the room.
He entered with food and water placing it on the table in front of me, taking a seat beside me he just stayed there silent his eyes watching my every move I stopped every few bites my gazing darting over to him "why did you bring me out" I asked my mouth somewhat full but he didn't speak instead his eyes held something else in them I placed my food back down a weird feeling crept up my spine making me want to run and get out of there, just like a sign the wind clicked the door open my eyes moved between Bucky and the door but his never left me 'i at least have to try' I took a quick breathe before taking off jumping over the small objects in my path my eagerness making me run even faster, we were in the middle of nowhere the forest wherever I looked stretched on for miles so I chose to keep following the dirt road.
I heard things crash as he followed me quickly gaining up his boots thumped against the dirt I could hear his deep breaths, my lungs burned like there was a fire inside my eyes peered behind me only to be the reason of my downfall I tripped on a branch the force of impact winding me I felt his body onto of me I could already the imagine the smirk against his lips his arms caged me down each arm on either sides of my head, he leaned down his breathe ticking my ear "Я поймал тебя, и моя кровь поднялась" (I caught you my blood rose) he growled as his body pressed down on mine, a small gasped left my throat as I felt his bulge pressed against me, my fingers dug into the gun as I tried crawling away but one of his hands lifted and wrapped itself around my neck, his finger tips slightly dug into my flesh.
"Ты не хочешь уезжать, ты хочешь остаться здесь и быть моей" (You don't want to leave, you want to stay here and be mine) his voice was low and seductive he rocked his body against mine "you want to be mine" he growled his hand pushing me to look at him, I couldn't speak i didn't know what to say his eyes glared at me with lust pressing himself further onto me the slight pressure on my clit made my eyes flutter and mouth clench shut, I felt his soft lips press against my neck his lips opened nipping and sucking at my skin, it wasn't the love bites that you see in every cringy romance they were the ones from the movies that are hot and heavy the ones you only watch with your door locked.
My throat vibrated as I tried to conceal my moans as his lips moved around my neck, his hand tightening as my body shivered with excitement, his rough finger tips slowly moved down my smooth skin from my neck to my collarbone to my soft breasts his fingers dug in gripping them roughly, my mouth opened panting stuffing my head into my arms his fingers slowly moved across my skin to my soft breasts his hands kneading and gripping them my nipples get pinched between his fingers, his voice growled into my ear "moan for me Кровавая роза" (blood rose) his breath sending a tickling sensation through my body.
He moved his hand gripping the edge of my dress stretching it away from my body til the sound of tearing fabric filled our ears my eyes glazed with tears as I watched the fabric fall discarded on the floor, it shouldn't be happening this way "no please" I pleaded but he went back to ignoring me his fingers pinching and pulling at my nipples, he breathed me in as his hand started to fall again grazing my skin leaving a trail of goosebumps, his fingers brushed down my stomach to the edge of my lacy underwear "Кровавая роза" (blood rose) he growled letting his fingers slide underneath the fabric, I closed my eyes and took in a shakey breathe feeling the sensation of his rough finger tips graze my clit.
His finger circled around my clit in an agonizing slow motion, each completed circle drove me more and more insane, my hands dug into the dirt my moans becoming harder and harder to contain "just admit it, this feels good" he muttered his voice holding determination as his finger dipped down into my lips teasing the hole, my eyes rolled it was weird but good sensation 'fuck' I mouthed into my arm letting my teeth bite down onto my skin, it seemed to make him more determined his finger entered slowly pumping in and out coating his finger in my wetness my body reacted to each motion making a dry chuckle leave his throat "are you just a slut Кровавая роза" (blood rose) he said I could feel his smirk against my neck.
I shook my head, I felt the brush of his tongue along my neck as he licked his lips "somehow I don't believe you" he spat, the pumping of his finger increasing, I choked out a broken moan my legs quivering "I promise I'm not" I moaned small tears running down my cheek, I felt his palm start to move against my clit I already felt overwhelmed "I-i just please" I didn't know what I was begging for but just something that's more of this, I whined as he pulled his hand away from me the lose of his body heat making my body shiver as he got up, his hands wrapped around me pulling me to my feet only to push me into a near by tree his body pressed up against me.
"Beg like the slut you are" I felt myself clench around nothing his words only fueling my excitement I watched his arms cage me in his muscles flexing as he spoke "answer me slut" his hand moved to grip my hair moving my head so I was facing him, my eyes traveled to his lips they looked so soft, I lost control of my body pushing my lips to his, his body didn't flinch he didn't pull my hair to get me away he just stood there my lips molding into his, the hand gripping my hair soon started to push me more into him while the other grabbed my hips turning my body to his, the hand moved its way back gripping my ass.
My arms moved to wrap around his neck fingers interlocking as his hand dropped my hair "jump" he muttered against my lips his hands securing themselves against my ass I jumped gasping wrapping my legs around his waist, he pressed me into the tree letting one of his hands move from their spot to undo his pants he discarded the belt onto the floor beside the torn fabric of my dress I felt his hand disappear into his boxers pulling out his hardened cock the tip already leaking with pre-cum, he pulled his lips away his eyes staring deep into mine filled with a predatory gaze, his eyes remind too mine as he moved his dick to run up and down my slit toying with me.
I tightened my arms around him rocking my hips to his desperate for more friction he chuckled at my attempts "beg" he said his eyes moving up and down my body with a lustful stare I whined feeling defeated "please" I whined making him growl 'more' my body shivered as he pressed the head of his cock to my clit "please fuck me, just fuck me" I cried with a desperate moan I watched his eyes ignite with dominance, I waited with anticipation as I felt his cock slowly move to the hole teasing the entrance before pushing in, my body clenched feeling the burn of the stretch, my fingers let go of each other to dig my nails into his back "fuck" I moaned wavily he paused waiting for me to adjust he was being so caring it somewhat scared me.
As soon as my breathing calmed and my body stopped shaking his hips slowly started to move, I moaned with every thrust my eyes closed in pleasure leaning my head back against the tree I gasped feeling the cold metal of his metal arm wrap around my neck tightening a bit till my throat clenched I could still breath but with shallow breathes my eyes rolled to the back of my head feeling him speed up a pleasureble sensation filled me "I'm gonna cum" I choked making his hips hit my harder, the sound of skin slapping skin echoed through the woods behind us, my body jolted with each thrust.
My fingers dug so deep I was surprised I haven't drawn blood, his shoulders rose and fell with each breath he took, his eyes closed as I felt his cock swell "I'm not on birth control" I said my breaths quickening but his thrusts only continued, my moans started to get louder as I grew closer my legs tightening around him "fuck" I cried out my body quivering as I felt myself cum, I moved my hands to his chest pushing him trying to stop him "too much" I whined but his thrusts never ceased "please stop" I pleaded he stopped for a moment and I breathed in relief but I wasn't so lucky.
He moved us to the ground I tried to protest but his hips started to move again turning my words into moans "fuck" I was too overstimulated to take I just let my head hang back on the dirt floor, I felt a weird vibration from the floor, my eyebrows creased in confusion as I moved my head to look it was a nearing car, my heartbeat sped up and my motions to get him off increased 'please stop' but he didn't care he didn't even look at the car, the adrenaline pumped through my veins I watched the car come to a speeding holt, That's when I felt it, my eyes fluttered shut and a choked moan ripped from my throat I felt the warm liquid spill inside me "I told you to wait Bucky" my breathe hitched as my eyes jerked over to the man getting out of the car.
"Hail Hydra"
Any advice or critiques is very much appreciated, thank you for reading my post I hope you enjoyed.
