An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Tony Stark
Additional Tags: Threesome - M/M/M, Top Steve Rogers, Top Bucky Barnes, Bottom Tony Stark, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, LGBTQ Character, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Domestic Avengers, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Established Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, winterironshield - Freeform
Series: Part 2 of Science, Shields, and Soldiers
Summary:
Steve is stressed out from being the public face of the Avengers and Tony has ideas to help with that.
“Finally getting out of here for a bit, Zimmerman?”
Chief Bridges raised an eyebrow as Flip placed the paperwork down onto his desk. Stepping back, the detective waited patiently as his boss scanned over his request.
“Thought I’d get out to Gunnison before the first snowfall.”
“Beautiful this time of year up there.” Chief Bridges commented as he stamped his seal of approval and handing the papers back over to him. “Enjoy yourself.”
Flip couldn’t help but feel a bit of excitement as he walked out of the station to his truck. He’d never taken anyone camping with him before, usually using his time off as a bit of solitude up in the mountains, far removed from case files and detective work for a weekend. If he was being honest with himself he’d never had anyone he’d ever wanted to ask to accompany him before.
You’d come in like a whirlwind, catching the detective off guard one night at the Red Lantern. Finally fulfilling a long standing promise to Ron and Patrice for an after work drink, Flip finally found the time to meet with his friends. He hadn’t expected for them to bring another along, finding you sitting in his usual spot in the back booth, forever altering his usual nightly routine of frozen dinners and reruns.
Making a quick stop at the grocery to pick up a six pack of Coors and a bottle of your favorite bourbon, he arrived at your apartment. Plopping himself down on your couch, Flip made himself comfortable as you switched off the television set and joined him.
“How’d you feel about a little weekend getaway?” Flip asked as popped the tab of his beer open with a hiss.
Leaning against his side, a vision of a weekend away on a white sand beach surrounded by palm trees with a shirtless detective lounging in a hammock next to you floated through your head
“Up to the mountains,” Flip added, causing any thoughts of the ocean to evaporate instantly from your mind’s eye. “Thought you’d might want to come camping with me?”
“Camping?” you questioned, sitting up on the couch a bit to look over at Flip.
Suddenly feeling nervous he’d even brought the idea up, Flip faltered. Maybe you weren’t the type that thought spending a weekend out in the woods as an idea of fun. Second guessing himself, he worried that maybe it was too soon altogether to ask you to go anywhere other than dinner or the movies.
“If that’s not something you like... I just thought…” he began to ramble, trying to redeem himself on his fumble.
“Flip,” you interrupted, immediately silencing the hulking ball of nerves beside you. “I’d actually really like to go camping with you.”
Breaking into a small smile, Flip felt a wave of relief come over him that you had agreed. He hated that he felt like such a blithering idiot half the time around you, always questioning why such a beautiful woman as yourself was hanging around the likes of him. Relaxing at your acceptance, he swung his arm back around you, allowing you to curl into his side again.
When Flip asked if you’d ever been camping before, you eagerly said yes, even if it had been a long while since you’d gone. Your family had taken you on summer road trips as a child; piling everyone into the nine passenger station wagon with a pop-up trailer hitched to the back and driving up north to a scenic state park. Your father and uncle would set up camp on the dirt plot, hooking the trailer up to the provided electrical outlets. A shower area and general store were just a short walk down the paved road, where you and your cousins would stock up on bags of marshmallows to roast later over a fire. It was hardly roughing it in the wilderness, but you’d always enjoyed it nonetheless.
Never once did Flip mention that his definition of camping did not provide any modern amenities.
As Flip turned onto the unpaved road, the rusty Chevy bumped along causing you to hold onto the dashboard as best you could. After a few miles of rough terrain knocking your head against the ceiling of the truck when he hit a particularly deep divot in the road, he finally slowed to a stop, parking alongside a row of pines.
“Ready, sweetheart? It’s about a mile out to the lake from here.”
“A mile?” you blurted, staring at Flip as if he’d suddenly grown a second head. “What I wouldn’t give for an ATV right about now.”
You muttered the last bit to yourself, but pretty sure you heard the soft rumbling of Flip’s laughter at your admission.
Trusting that Flip knew what he was doing, you hopped down from the Chevy, grabbing your backpack from the bed and swinging it over your shoulder. Flip gathered the rest of the items from the truck. Crossing the dusty road, you set off into the woods.
Flip made the trek seem easy, leading the way through what seemed to be an endless sprawl of forest. A few steps behind, you wondered how he was barely breaking a sweat even though he was carrying twice as much gear as you were. Flip was clearly in his element and you couldn’t help but admire how good he looked; plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows and rifle strapped to his shoulder.
“Where exactly are we going?” you questioned, catching up to Flip’s side as the trail finally widened enough to allow you to walk comfortably beside him.
“It’s gonna be worth it, trust me.”
“It’d better be,” you hummed, adjusting your backpack straps on your shoulders.
“This is what I get for taking a city girl out in nature,” Flip joked playfully as he brushed a bit of stray hair out of your face that had worked itself loose along the way.
“Shush you,” you playfully nudged Flip’s arm. “There’s not as much city in me as you’d like to believe and besides, I wouldn’t want the mountain man I have with me to feel useless.”
“Is he cute?”
“Oh, very much so.”
The rest of the hike, Flip pointed out various things to you in the wilderness as you walked along. A rare black squirrel scampering up the side of a tree, the name of a distant bird that called out. Impressed with his knowledge, you hardly noticed the final ascent as you listened to him rattle off a list of things about the area with confidence. He clearly knew it well, which hardly surprised you. He’d grown up here, this was practically his backyard, even though it seemed like the farthest reaches of the earth to you.
The trees began to thin out as you reached the top of the hill, a large lake spanning out along with a breathtaking view.
“Worth the hike?”
Pausing, you took in your new surroundings. You had never quite seen anything like it before. The lake glittered a deep blue in the sunlight, seeming to reach on forever. Mountains sloped up from either side of it’s banks, rolling off into the distance as far as the eye could see.
“It’s beautiful,” you commented, still in awe that such a spot existed.
“Good. Cause this is our home away from home for the next few days.”
Flip dropped his pack from his shoulders, leaning his rifle against a nearby tree. Pacing a few times across the area, he determined the flattest spot for the tent, digging the item from his backpack and unfurling it on the ground. Making quick work in a matter of minutes, it was set up, followed by a small fire pit.
“We’re going to need some firewood,” Flip noted, as he wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve.
Joining him in the nearby woods, you soon had an armful of fallen sticks and a few larger logs. Not being completely inept, you returned to the campsite, stacking them into the fire pit in the teepee shape your father had taught you long ago that would sustain the best fire. Tucking some dried leaves and kindling around the base, you struck a match, stepping back as the fire caught, quickly spreading to the larger logs.
Flip couldn’t help to smile as he returned, a stack of logs of his own in his arms, at you sitting near the fire. Dropping the firewood to the ground near the fire pit, he kissed the top of your head.
Daylight was already fading from the sky, casting hues of soft pinks and oranges over the still waters of the lake. The fire cracked and popped, burning strong and casting a warm light over the campsite. You helped Flip prepare dinner, adding spices to the cast iron pot he’d rigged over the fire as he stirred the ingredients to a simple, yet delicious meal. Laying out a blanket, he joined you as you sat down, warm bowl in hand.
You could get used to this, you thought as darkness fell around you. The first few stars began to twinkle in the inky black sky above. After cleaning up the dishes and packing them back away, Flip joined you near the fire. As it began to burn low in the small pit Flip had dug out to contain it, you noticed how quiet the woods were at night. Gone were the tweets of birds and rustling of forest animals through the underbrush. Your ears rang for a moment, unused to such silence. It was peaceful, yet eerie all at once, to be in such a secluded place. Pulling the over-sized flannel Flip had leant you closer around yourself, you shivered slightly in the cool night air. Leaning back against Flip, he wrapped his arms around you.
“Cold?” Flip asked, pulling you closer to his body from where you sat between his long legs.
“Just a little.” you admitted. Between the hike and the warmth of the sun, you had been almost too warm all day. As night fell, you realized you may have underestimated how quickly the temperature would drop at a higher elevation.
“Think I could warm you up a little,” he purred into your ear, nipping at your lobe.
“You think so?” you hummed back, tilting your head back to look up at him.
“I do.”
Catching you with a kiss, you wiggled a bit in Flip’s arms to turn yourself in his grasp. Straddling him, he let out a low moan as you settled yourself on his lap. He tasted of the spice from dinner, mingled with the tobacco from his last cigarette. Deepening the kiss, you ran your fingers through his hair, rocking your hips against him.
“Careful, sweetheart,” Flip warned as you twirled the long strands of his hair at the base of his neck.
“Mmm, why’s that?” you cooed. “Am I going to get myself in trouble?”
“There’s no one out here to hear me making you scream.”
More than once, your neighbors had pounded on the wall, warning you and Flip to quiet down. The apartment walls did little to contain the noise, much to their dismay. It took all of your willpower not to laugh the next day when Ms. Paterson from next door warned you that “next time I hear such a racket in the middle of the night, I’m calling the police.” Little did she know that it was law enforcement between your legs that was the cause for such a ruckus.
“I’d like to see you try,” you challenged Flip, rocking your hips once more against him for good measure. You could already feel he was hard, straining against his jeans. “Make me scream your name.”
Letting out a strangled sound, Flip moved you from his lap, turning you on to your back. Hovering above you, Flip ghosted his hands over your chest, palming at your breasts over the flannel. Diving towards your neck, he pressed his lips against you, nipping and sucking against your skin.
Flip hummed between kisses. “You are in so much trouble.”
“Have I been bad, officer?” you murmured as your back arched from the blanket and Flip pressed a line of kisses along your collarbone.
“Fuck,” Flip groaned as he struggled to undo the buttons to your shirt. He desperately needed to feel the softness of your skin against his palm.
A low giggle escaped you, knowing that pushed Flip over the edge. Feeling his hand trail down your stomach he dipped between your legs. Pressing against your center, you took a deep breath as Flip rubbed his hand over the fabric of your pants. While it felt good, you needed more. Reaching down, you unbuttoned the top of your jeans, Flip’s fingers quick to join, pushing the fabric down your legs.
Feeling the cold night air hit against your wet center, you stiffened for a second at the sensation. Flip wasted no time in pressing a warm finger against you, teasing you slowly as he circled your folds before dipping inside. Grasping his shoulders, you exhaled as he began working in and out of you at a torturous pace, adding a second and then a third. Goosebumps prickled against your skin, the mixture of pleasure and the chill of the mountain air cascading over you. Flip continued, pumping his hand rhythmically as you squeezed your eyes shut. You were lost in the feeling, his thick fingers working you as his thumb circled your clit. Nearly there you were teetering on edge when the loss of contact made your eyes fly open and suck in a deep breath, as Flip pulled his hand away.
“Think I was going to let you come that easily?” Flip smirked, before bringing his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with a pop.
Giving Flip a sly smile, you grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, pulling him close. Teasing him, you licked a stripe up the side of his neck. Salty and sweet, you relished the taste of him. Biting his neck, he let out a low groan. You were easily going to be the death of him and he wasn’t complaining in the slightest that this was how he was going to go.
“Are you going to cuff me, officer? you teased, letting go of Flip’s shirt to stretch your arms above you. “Wouldn’t want me to get away now would you?”
Pinning your wrists in his grasp, Flip held you steady with his large hand. “I’m off duty, sweetheart. Plus there’s no headboard to cuff you to.”
“But sir,” you mockingly protest, playing into Flip’s current conundrum. “I’m sure you could find some way to restrain me.”
Ever the quick thinking boy scout, Flip pushed the flannel shirt from your shoulders, making quick work of knotting the fabric tightly around your wrists. Satisfied with his handiwork, Flip ran his hand down your chest, delighting in how your body arched into his touch, begging for more.
Fumbling with his belt buckle, Flip wasn’t sure he still had the necessary motor skills left to work the leather free from his waist. Managing to get it undone, he unzipped his pants, taking himself out in his palm. Pumping himself a few times, his hand felt useless, especially as you were splayed out before him, legs parted, waiting eagerly for him to sink into you. Lining up to your entrance, Flip could barely breathe as he slipped into you. He would never grow tired of the soft exhale you made as he sunk deeper into you, steadying his hands against the blanket, careful not to crush you with his weight as he began to move.
Soon finding a rhythm, Flip rocked against you, driving deep as your hips snapped to meet each of his thrusts.
“Let me hear you,” Flip encouraged. “Be a good girl for me.”
Struggling against the fabric bonds, tight around your wrists, you tried to wiggle free but to no avail. The sensation of restriction only added to your pleasure as the flannel dug against your skin. You cried out into the night as Flip thrust into you.
“Fuck! Flip, please!”
“Please what?” he asked, his voice low and thick.
“Please,” you begged. “Please fuck me harder.”
“Careful what you wish for sweetheart.”
Withdrawing from you, Flip grasped your hips, flipping you to your knees. Faltering for a second, you steadied yourself as best you could on your bound wrists. Feeling his weight against your back, Flip reached around you, tearing the knotted shirt free allowing your hands to plant flat against the blanket.
“You look fucking beautiful like this,” Flip confessed, taking in the sight of you bent before him, your thighs slick with your arousal dripping from your center.
Giving your ass a firm slap, Flip let out a growl as he dove towards you, licking a long stripe against you with his tongue. Shuddering, your fingers grasped the blanket, desperately trying to hold onto anything that would ground you as Flip continued to lap at you. As he circled his tongue, you let out a cry, unable to contain the sounds you were so used to keeping quiet. Continuing on, Flip worked you until you were trembling, on the brink of collapsing, your arms weak from holding yourself up.
Pulling back from you, Flip’s chin glistened in the pale moonlight that blanketed your surroundings. Hardly fazed by the mess, Flip took hold of your hips once again, guiding you back as he pushed into you.
“Flip!” you moaned as his cock sunk deep within you. Wrapping an arm around your middle, he leaned down against your back, pulling you close as he rocked back and forth in time with your movements against him.
“Such a good, good girl for me,” Flip murmured, his voice deep as his pressed his lips against your cheek. “Just like that darling,” he encouraged.
Snippity snip. Cause I failed to squeeze out a full chapter.
But hey, there’s always tomorrow.
Death gripped your waist, lifting you from his lap. Before you knew it, you were sprawled across the bed, lying down on your belly.
His huge hand fell on your ass and pressed it; then shifted upwards, pushing you into the mattress as it went. Finally, it rested on the nape of your neck. You gave out a loud, shuddering sigh when his fingers closed around your hair, pulling it a little.
„I don’t have much time for this”, he rasped into your ear, leaning over – a long, intimidating shadow of a man. His sheer physical power could overcome you as easily as it would be for him to grind a flower petal into juice. He used only a fraction of that might, a truly minimal amount. And yet you were done for: shivering, pliant, your breath rushed, your whole body yearning for more of his malice.
Quick fucks with Death always felt close to an assault. And you loved it this way.
„Yeah, yeah”, you mumbled into the bedding. „I know. Tolstoy’s impatient.”
Hermione crashed through the door to her dormitory, sloughing her bag off her shoulder and her robe. They fell to the floor with an unceremonious thunk.
She was so done with this week.
Between the four essays they had been assigned to complete as homework, the lack of attention Draco Malfoy seemed to give whenever she mentioned his duties as Head Boy, and the letter she had received from Ron asking for some space, she was completely done.
Some space? She had sent him one owl a week since the start of term, and she hasn’t perceived that as particularly overbearing. But apparently it was too much for her boyfriend; he wanted “time to think about them.”
What did that even mean? Utter rubbish.
Hermione shoved the door closed and collapsed onto her bed, not bothering to listen for it to click shut. While she should have been enjoying a lazy Friday afternoon, she would likely have to skip any leisurely activities if she were to get her work done.
Dragging her hands over her face and groaning, she was about to sit up when a thought struck.
She needed to relax; needed to take the edge off her frustration if she was going to be remotely productive. Hermione sighed. There was only one method she knew of that would provide some temporarily relief for her racing mind and tense body.
Not bothering to remove her uniform blouse, she slipped her skirt and knickers off, folding them into a neat pile and setting them on a nearby chair. Her core pulsed with anticipation as she laid down on her bed, spreading her legs to give her easier access.
To her surprise, she was already wet when she dipped her index finger into herself. She pressed the heel of her hand into her clit and felt warm pleasure begin to blossom there. Releasing the pressure for a moment, she pressed down again, the pleasure building a bit higher this time. Her other hand traced her curves, eager to find any spot that might egg on her release. The sooner she finished the better.
After several minutes of touching and squeezing herself, her bliss was building into a fever pitch, and she could feel her whole body thrum with the anticipation of what was to come. Heat poured from her in tidal waves.
Just as her pleasure began to crest, she heard an odd noise from across the room: a heavy thud. Horrified, Hermione sat bolt upright and stared at the source of the noise. Any orgasm she had been about to experience died immediately as she saw Draco Malfoy standing in her clearly-not-closed doorway, mouth agape, trousers tented, and school bag lying in a heap on the floor, his hand frozen where it had slipped through his fingers.
Scrambling to cover herself, she felt her whole body heat up. Her heart pounded in her chest, though not in the same way it had moments earlier when she thought she was alone. Only a few words managed to make it through her muddled brain.
“H-h-how long have you been standing there?”
She scrunched her eyes closed, not wanting to see his expression.
He cleared his throat. Hermione opened one eye. To her surprise, he had turned around as though he wanted to give her privacy. Despite no longer facing her, she could see his own ears were aflame.
“Erm...you had wanted to go over patrol schedules and I thought now might be a good time since we are both done with classes. I came up here just a minute ago and... Clearly I should come back.”
Hermione drew breath, her whole body shaking.
“I can... I can meet you in the common area in a minute. We can talk about it, sure.”
A beat.
“Great.”
Another beat.
“I’ll just go, then. See you in a minute, Granger.” Without even a tiny backwards glance, Malfoy exited, closing her door firmly as he left.
The moment he was gone, Hermione fell back onto her pillows. She tried to regulate her breathing, but failed miserably, and continued to hyperventilate into her silent dormitory.
So much for stress relief.
Good morning, everyone! Happy Friday! Pretty sure this is a longer drabble, but oh well! 🤷♀️ Hope this was a sweet way to begin your day. 😏😉
“I need you to stay here and stay safe. That won’t be possible if you come with us.”
Draco found himself nodding along in agreement, though the action felt hollow.
A short breath. A swallow. More silence.
Draco grimaced, trying to push the conversation forward. “You said something about a present?”
Hermione sat up and smiled. “Right, yes.” She reached into her beaded bag and pulled from it a chestnut-coloured, leather bound book, placing it in his hands. Draco snorted.
“Only you would give me a book as a farewell present to someone you just snogged yesterday.” Draco cracked a smile and Hermione elbowed him lightly in the ribs.
