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georgiapeach30513 · 8 months

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Your Mark On Me, Part 2

Summary: you realize just how mean Steve can really be.

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, dark, stalking, non con/dub con elements, groping, dirty talk, chasing (chase kink), slapping, humiliation, audience, degradation, pussy worship, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), cameras without knowledge, multiple orgasms, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 6.9K

Series Masterlist

*tattoo edit created by @randomagnes0210

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“What is she doing now?” Bucky takes a long drag of his cigarette, while you obliviously bounce into your bedroom in your panties and oversized shirt. Nothing else. Your nipples are pressing up against white shirt, and Bucky chuckles as you lay down on your belly. “You were looking at her body weren’t you?”

“How do you expect me not to look at her body, your highness?” Your legs bend at the knee as you open up a text book, but your eyes quickly drift over to the bottle of pills before sitting back up to grab one. “She’s got a good set of tits.”

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Steve growls at him. Bucky knew his place. He’d keep an eye on you, but would never touch. It was par for the course with Bucky. No doubt his friend would watch you take Steve’s cock like a good girl eventually. It was just what had to happen.

“What is she doing? She putting one of those pills in her pretty little mouth?”

“She is,” Bucky tilts his head to the side as you root around in a drawer for something. “She’s looking in a drawer beside her bed, Stevie.”

“I’ll be there shortly,” he hangs up his phone, and snaps his finger at his driver. He needs to get there quickly. Let Bucky remove his eyes from whatever you were setting yourself up to do.

Stupid girl. Once he has you where he wants you, he’s going to have to talk to you about leaving your blinds and curtains open for any disgusting man to watch you. He’ll hold off for now. The thought of you putting on a show just for him excites him too much to go ahead and let you know this isn’t acceptable.

Pulling into your apartment complex, Steve’s lip curls up in disgust as he walks over to Bucky. “This isn’t good enough. She’s not even on campus. Who is supposed to be watching her?” Bucky turns to look at Steve with a blank face.

“She doesn’t seem to mind,” Bucky gives Steve a wink, and turns his back to your window. “She found what she was looking for.”

“What is it?” Steve’s face heats up in anger as he thinks about anything inside of you, but himself.

Bucky rolls his eyes, peeking at his friend. Steve’s jaw is pulsing, waiting on Bucky’s answer that wasn’t coming fast enough. If it wasn’t for you laying a pillow down, and straddling it, Steve would have already been marching into your room. “What the fuck does she have stuffed down her panties?”

“Easy, killer,” Bucky’s voice is so animated that Steve shoots a hard look at him, and then goes back to watching you. Timid. You weren’t even sure what to touch on your body. It made him want you that much more. Sheltered, and probably taught that sex was bad. Steve rolls his eyes thinking about how he was going to have to work so much harder. He loved a challenge.

“It took me awhile to find it,” Steve gives Bucky a mere split second of his attention, because you start to grind down on the pillow, and he sighs. “Don’t get hard standing beside me. This thing is kinda cute, it’s called a Cute Little Fucker.”

Steve finally looks at the picture of your toy that Bucky was able to procure. “That doesn’t go inside of her?” Of course you would pick out this cute little bug looking thing. He was falling even more. Sweet girl needed cute sex toys.

“No. It vibrates, and she grinds over it. Is she grinding yet, buddy?” Steve has to bite his tongue as your body goes on autopilot, and you bite on your lip so your roommate can’t hear your pretty sounds. The roommate…another thing Steve was going to have to deal with.

“What did the other toys look like?” Steve switches from foot to foot. Bucky’s eyes are amazing and he knows that his right hand man saw everything in your treasure chest.. Steve’s cock twitches, becoming too uncomfortable. “Bucky!”

“She only had one other one, and no, it wasn’t a penetrating toy. So unless your pretty little Dovey fucks her fingers, that pussy is indeed ready to mold to your cock.”

Steve grimaces as you halt abruptly. Pulling that green vibe out of your panties and staring at it. It is hardly even wet. Steve knows you can do better than that, he’s made it happen, “She didn’t even allow herself to come. My my, am I going to have to teach her?” It wasn’t even that for you. It was the fact that the stupid toy didn’t feel as good as his leg, and you curse yourself for even thinking that.

Steve was someone you weren’t ever going to see again. You are bound and determined that next semester you don't need Adderall. You’ll make sure to start studying earlier, and not rely on outside sources. And now? When you should be studying you are left wanting more. Imagining those tattooed fingers pumping into you, while you stare down at them.

Steve was dangerous, and bad news. You just had to stay away from him. That’s all. Hearing a knock on the door, you roll your eyes. You had to lock the door because you knew what you were going to need before studying.

Jumping up you unlock the door, and give your roommate a smile, “What the fuck is that?” Steve says too loud as some boy leans against your door. “This is absolutely unacceptable. If he touches her,” he pops his neck, glowering at the man that you share an apartment with. He’ll punish you for this later, but this…it won’t happen.

“Roommate, Jack Benjamin. It’s his junior year at the university. He’s studying law, and keeps his GPA at 3.9. Comes from a rich family. Looks like he pays more than half of the rent and all utilities. Well, daddy pays. Guess that’s why he’s the roommate.”

“I really don’t give a shit. He’s in that apartment with my girl. Get rid of him. I’ll pay for everything,” Steve turns to leave, but Bucky clears his throat. “What?”

“Jackie boy is not interested in your little birdie. In fact, I’d say he’d be more interested in you. So you still want me to kill me, or nah?” He flips his phone around, flashing a picture on his social media of Jack on a date.

“Fine. He can live today. If he touches her…Bucky! I want her unscathed and safe. People saw her with me, saw her juices on my leg. I have enemies, and those enemies would use my Dove to get to me. Make sure that doesn’t happen. And if she fucks herself, I need a phone call. I need to know if she’s riding her pillow, using a toy or her fingers, and I need to know if she says my name. I need to hear when the first time she thinks of me and comes.”

Steve gives you one last look. Watching to see if that boy looks at you or touches you, he doesn’t. He’s safe for today. “Steve?” His eyes don't leave you, but he nods to Bucky, letting him know he heard him. “What are your plans for this sweet Dove?”

“I want to break her and own her. I want her to miss the thought of me not around her, craving me with every fiber of her being, and then I’ll make her my wife. She’s perfect. She just doesn’t realize it yet. Let me know if she wears another skirt again. How much fun it’s going to be with that sweet one, she’s got a bit of a spark to her. She told me no. Have a fun night. Keep me updated, and if she takes another pill, let me know. I won’t have someone addicted to pills. Keep her safe.”

He’s satisfied, for now, with the way Jack didn’t touch you. His eyes didn’t wander over what was his. But when Jack points out that deep red bruise on your neck, you slap your hand over it. It’s too late. You were his, and one day you would realize it.

Why haven’t you left the building?

You glance up from your phone, looking all around you. There wasn’t a prickly feeling of being watching, and your friends had meandered out already. Leaving you to stare at your notes. Having to look back over them, just to see if you had gotten the answers correct on the test.

And now an unknown number was waiting on you. Looking through your planner, you didn’t have a scheduled lunch or anything. You rack your brain trying to think if there was someone that you promised coffee with or anything, but still nothing.

I am waiting, and I don’t like to wait.

Thinking it best to respond, you start typing up something when your phone alerts you of him typing more.

Dovey, if you don’t walk your pretty little ass out here I’m going to be angry.

Don’t defy me, little bird.

You roll your eyes, thinking you have seen the last of him. You didn’t need anymore pills. The last final had been taken, and now you had a bit of a break before next semester. He had to go. You had to tell him his services were no longer needed. But a scene at school is not what you need.

Gathering your things you walk towards the exit, and there he was. Legs spread out wide, his neck dripping in gold and diamonds. Each tattooed finger was enhanced by all the rings. Hearing everyone’s whispers, starts to make you lose a bit of self control, but all it was going to take was a quick talk. And everyone could quit their pointing.

Even though he had a beautiful face, he was dangerous. Sin and mischief seeped out of his pours. He had the air of Satan, and everyone on campus could feel it. They might not know exactly who he was, but they definitely had bought his product.

Standing in front of him, you look down at his eyes. Even standing you still feel small. Wanting to crawl up inside of yourself as your body was screaming out a warning of peril to come. “Steve, you can’t be here.”

“And why not, Dove? I see a few of my distributors here. They see you talking to the monster. Their filthy little eyes are casting up and down your body, and I don’t like it. I have to let them know that you are off limits. You get what you need directly from me. And I will gouge everyone’s eyes out that looks at you!” His voice gets a bit louder, and you put a hand on his shoulder, hopefully calming him.

“People look. It’s not that big of a deal. They,” your words catch in your throat as his eyes roam down the front of your body. Moving with the curves of you. Looking like he is trying to undress you in his mind. Tsking when he gets to your skirt. A big meaty hand slides up your thigh, and under your skirt, lifting it up. You quickly slap his hand away, knowing everybody can see what he’s doing.

“I’ll allow that one time,” my god why was he like this? What did he want, and why wouldn’t he leave you alone? “You make it a habit of wearing pleated skirts? It’s not so different from the first time I saw you.”

“Skirts and dresses are kind of my thing,” you shrug because it wasn’t a big deal, and he was making it one. He could only think of the easy access to you.

Steve’s eyes still roam over your form, itching to lift up your skirt because he needed to know, “What kind of panties do you have on?”

“What the fuck?” You screech, averting your eyes around you. They are still staring at you. Judging you for being around this man.

“Don’t talk with a filthy mouth out in public. Why do I make you so nervous?”

“You don’t,” you try to take a step back, but his hand goes back to your thigh, giving it a squeeze, and pulling you more in between his legs. The legs that you hadn’t stopped thinking about for the past five days.

Looking down at his thigh makes you want to shudder. Remembering euphoria coursing through your blood. Even the humiliation of Bucky watching kind of made it better. “Your pulse is rising. I bet if I cupped your pussy, it would be hot as hell.”

“Don’t you dare! There’s people around,” you press your thighs together, creating at least one barrier between Steve’s mitt sized hand, and your core.

“Didn’t stop you from making a mess on me less than a week ago. Had you whimpering, and leaking your pussy juice all over me. That whole club saw what a sloppy little cunt you had. I think even Bucky got a bit of a hard on. You made me so hard that I stroked my cock for an hour, pretending it was your pussy.”

“Steve,” you whisper, trying to pull his inky hand off you. Your thighs press closer together, and you swish them around. A slight bit of relief, but you are quaking. “I need to go.”

“No. You don’t. You’re finished for the semester. But I will allow you to go with me. Come on,” standing up, he pulls at your hand, and you look around at everyone staring at you. Fingers point, and you hear the whispers start. “Let’s go. Get in the car. I’m going to take you on a field trip.”

“But…what do you want with me?” Steve’s mouth turns up into an evil sneer, and one eyebrow sits high on his head. “I — I thought the payment for the pills was…you know.”

“Go on. Say it. I dare you. Tell me how you coming on my leg was not the best feeling in the world,” you stand in silence staring up at him. You are terrified, but you don’t want to react. He was playing games with you, and making a public scene in your space.

“Tell me how you ride your pillow every night, pretending it's my leg. Whispering my name as you refuse to allow yourself to come. I bet you got so much pent up tension in between your thighs, you can hardly sleep without waking up to your fingers playing with your clit.”

“Stop,” your voice cracks, and you can’t look at him anymore. The vein on your neck is visibly telling Steve just how fast your blood was pumping, but also how hard. What he wouldn’t give to just nibble on that vein. He knows he can make you kneel before him by biting down just a tiny bit. His mark from the weekend is already fading. He’s going to remedy that shortly.

“Dovey, didn’t your mama ever tell you not to get involved with a drug lord? You owe me,” he smiles, still dragging you along after him.

“But…I offered you money. You let me go.”

“You had finals. I couldn't keep you from them. And your money's no good with me.”

“Then what do you want?” He stops his movement, and turns to look at you. A faint glimmer of softness runs through his eyes as he steps right up to you. His hard chest pushes into yours.

The back of his knuckles brush over your cheek so sweetly. Relaxing you ever so slightly when your insides are ready to explode. Ready to burst right out in front of everyone. They are still staring, and you hate him for it. Moving his hand behind your head, his fingers tickle at the nape of your neck. Pulling you forward, and he takes a long, slow inhale before stopping right at the shell of your ear.

“I want you.”

“What?” Whimpering as you lean in closer to him. Your body craves him even though your foggy brain was crying for you to run away. Your body currently desperate for more attention than your brain was able to control.

“I only want you. Now, get in the car. We’re going on a field trip,” your body moves on its own accord as he gives your hand a little tug, leading you to his blacked out SUV, and you crawl into the back seat with him.

“Sam, take us to that playground on the edge of town. The one no one goes to. Tell Bucky to meet us there,” words didn’t make sense as you realize what you’re doing. In a fucking car with a fucking drug lord going to a fucking playground.

He said he wanted you. What did that even mean? He wanted to sacrifice a virgin? He wanted to take from you? Wait a minute…

“How did you know?”

“Hmm?” Steve looks up at you with a crooked grin, reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his phone, starting to look through it. You can’t tell if he’s ignoring you, or continuing to play his games.

“How did you know about the pillow?” He flips his phone around, showing you a video of you grinding on your pillow, and only one word on your lips. Steve. “You bastard!”

He turns up the volume without a response. Panting. Deep, labored moans, and you. Looking so frustrated as you grab out the toy, and toss it on the other side of the room, and then the softest moan of your name, followed by fuck. The camera tilts down enough to see Steve’s cream coat his thick fingers. Fucker was outside your window, masturbating, while you was fucking a pillow. And then had the audacity to show you his cum.

“What is wrong with you?” You don’t want to look at him, so you turn to look out the window. Fucking asshole. He lets out a guttural laugh, scooting over closer to you. You can’t escape him in this car. And every inch of him crowding you makes you feel like you're being squeezed by a boa constrictor.

“You didn’t like seeing what you did to me? Never mind the fact that you're denying yourself release. Seeing you hump that pillow every night was bound to make me hard. If you’re enjoying yourself, why can’t I?”

“Fuck your hand at home. Why are you…” Steve’s fingers dig into your cheeks, twisting your head to look back at him. Giving your cheeks a hard squeeze as his eyes narrow at you.

“I thought I told you not to talk with a filthy mouth.”

“You said in public,” you mumble. Your jaw burns as he squeezes even harder. The pressure drawing a line at being painful.

“What I really meant is do not use that filthy language, unless I’m inside of you.”

“You’ll never be inside me.”

“I won’t? Sam,” his driver reaches to the soundboard on the car, and the entire vehicle is filled with your whispered moans. And the repetition of you whispering his name. Over and over again. Asshole had found a way to get into your bedroom. Anger and embarrassment swirls inside of you. Realizing that he was watching everything you did in your alone time.

“Let’s face it, Dovey, you knew you fucked up by walking into that club. What you didn’t know was that I have a very specific taste, and your cherry is exactly what I want. You can’t even help yourself from envisioning me fucking you. And you better be glad. We’ve got a list. And if your roommate so much as kisses you, you’ll be gifted with his lips on your doorsteps. I don’t share. They can watch, but they’ll never get to touch you. Never even get to taste you unless they’re licking your juices off the floor.”

“What is wrong with you?” The alarms inside your body was ringing so loud, you couldn’t even think. They are begging and pleading for you to get out, but you’re immobile.

“Did your gut tell you not to come to see me?”

“Well, yeah, but….”

“And still you disregarded that voice, and showed up anyways. I’m an obsessive person, Dovey, and I always get what I want. And what I want right now is you,” you feel like teeth of a brutal animal trap has enclosed on you. Painful and scary. Trapped, and feeling like there was no way out.

“You just want to fuck me. Please, don’t…don’t touch me,” you finally feel fear as your body trembles. Flight or fight is a myth. You just quake with raw fear.

“I won’t be splitting your cunt open until you beg me to. Now get out of the fucking car,” struggling to move with how bad you are shaking, you scramble out of the car. Eyes twisting around and looking for a way out.

“Sam’s too fast, and Bucky is faster. You really want to run, Dovey, be my guest. I love going hunting for sweet little birds,” cocky son of a bitch stands there, crossing his arms over his chest, daring you to make a run for it. “I’m a reasonable man. But don’t test me.”

“I’m not begging.”

“You’re not. But I don’t have to stick my cock in your cunt to have some fun. Do go on. Run,” he cackles out a laugh when you sprint towards the woods. You may not get far, but you could hide. Hide long enough for him to leave.

Realizing just how stupid you are when Steve stomps into the woods. He doesn’t even run. While you're bolting, and hiding behind trees, he walks calmly. God, he’s going to kill you. He’s going to pull your panties down, and make you take him in front of Bucky and Sam. He promised he wouldn’t if you weren’t begging. Did he promise? You can’t even remember.

“Dovey, you’re breathing too hard,” his voice is too close. As long as his legs are in two strides he’d only be feet from him. Exhaling slowly, you stand up from your crouched position, and haul ass. Didn’t even care to look back. Just run.

Running through the thick woods and getting pelted in the face with branches is not how you want to spend your evening. You were supposed to go home, and crash on the bed. Finally resting after a week of hardly any sleep.

Twilight begins to turn to dark, and the woods get to where you can’t even see an inch in front of you. If you could you might not have tripped over a fucking limb. Trying to scramble up when a thick hand grabs your ankle. “And that’s about enough of that, little bird.”

Steve pulls you across the forest floor, and right to him. Leaning over you with a devil may care grin, “You can’t escape me. It’ll be in your best interest to remember that. It’ll help you out a lot.”

“What do you want?” You cry as Steve lifts you up, and carries you on his shoulder.

“I thought I made it clear, I want you.”

“I’m not begging, Steve. I’m not begging!” Tears invade your vision, knowing no matter how calm he is that he is pissed that you actually ran. “Steve, please, I’m not…”

“Please can be considered a form of begging. So if you could do my aching cock a favor and stop using it that would be great,” he grunts, readjusting his pants, and you cry harder. “Tears aren’t helping you either. I can’t wait to see your tears when you take my cock.”

“You sick fuck. Why are you — ow!” Screaming as heat radiates on your ass where Steve’s meaty hand slapped you. The sting races right to your core, and that only makes you want to cry more. What was he doing to you? And why did your body like it?

“Can you stop whining before I give you something to cry about?”

“That hurt!” A deep desire to start biting on whatever you could get of his backside comes over you, but that would be a terrible mistake.

“A second one will hurt more. Tell your cunt that’s throbbing on my shoulder how much it hurts. Dovey, I’m not the only sick fuck here. But if you say that word one more time, and my cock isn’t so deep inside of you that you feel it in your throat, you will have hell to pay. Have I made myself clear?”

He’s a sick asshole. Lighting your body on fire in ways that you didn’t think possible, and it thoroughly pisses you off. “Dove! Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes.”

“Next time, say, ‘Yes, sir,’' he chuckles, and you hate him more. How did you hate him so much, and yet your body yearns for him? You are the one with the brain, and you tell your body that you will never beg for Steve Rogers.

“Stay there,” he says, sitting you on a set of low jungle gym bars. Your feet dangle to the ground, and you give your eyes a moment to look around. Adjusting to the incoming darkness as Sam and Bucky flank either side of you two. “I believe I asked you a question earlier, and not only did you not answer, you denied me a chance to see for myself.”

“And what is that?” Steve’s hand goes up to your face, giving it a little tap as you glare up at him. “What was that for, your majesty?”

“Don’t be cute. I don’t like the attitude. Just because I have added you to my favorites lists doesn’t mean you get to act like a brat. Brats get punished, and next time the slap won’t be that soft.”

“You gonna hit my face like you did my a…butt?” Your mouth is wanting to talk back faster than your brain can compute, and you know that pushing him beyond his limits will only get you in trouble.

“No, you need a good spanking, and that wasn’t even one. You fucking ran from me. Me. Steve Rogers. I have two men with me. Darling, we’re retired military, you can’t escape us. I’m going to ask you one more time, and you better provide a satisfactory answer, or there will be hell to pay.”

The two of you stare at each other, and Steve smirks. You are cute, naive, and just the right amount of stubbornness that he loves. Breaking you is going to be so much more rewarding.

“What kind of panties do you have on?” Your face has to be staring at him with the most disdain that you have ever felt. He is a psycho.

“Why is that your business?” Wrong answer. He gives you another slap to your cheek, but this time there is much more force.

“Dovey, you’re mine. You belong to me. And when you walk around with skirts on around all those boys, you better be wearing the right panties. What do you have on?” Don’t answer. You tilt your chin up to the sky, and Steve has had enough.

Holding onto your legs, he forces you backwards. Leaving you hanging upside down, with your ass out, and panties on full display. Your hands hold firmly onto the bar, in fear of him letting you fall to ground, but the way he was staring hard at your nether regions has your pussy pulsing so hard.

“See. Now this just pisses me off. Do you see this?” He asks, looking at Sam and Bucky. “Do you fucking see this? Your ass is hanging out. Is that what you want? Those little boys to get a glimpse of your ass, and your fucking pussy lips?” Don’t answer. Just hang there. This will all be over soon.

“But do you see that?” You can hear the grin on his lips. Bucky and Sam are too close to you, and all three gaze at your exposed self. “Dovey, you are a sick fuck. You have made a mess of these panties, and we can see your pulse. So tell me how you don’t like this. Clenching around nothing. You wanted attention with these panties, well we’re giving it to you, princess,” his voice gets louder. Or is he getting closer?

“Steve, don’t!” You screech as his finger hooks under the gusset of your panties. The two of you mewl when his finger touches your drenched folds. It was less than a second, but you can feel it throughout your whole body.

“Step…back,” he struggles to get out. Waiting long enough for his men to step aside before exposing your tight little hole. “My God, I believe I see heaven.”

“Steve, stop.”

“I can’t.”

“I’m not begging.”

“And I’m not touching,” you whimper as he bends down closer. His heated breath on your core sends chill bumps all over your body. He inhales deeply, moving over your center, moaning again. “It seriously is heaven. I bet the taste is divine.”

“No!” Your body finally reacts. He is distracted enough that you’re able to drop down, and you scoot back on the ground. “Stop. I wasn’t begging.”

“My tongue licking up your slit, and tasting that delicious honey was not me penetrating you,” you shake your head, unable to look at him anymore. “Fine. Take ‘em off.”

“What?”

“Take the fucking panties off, and get in the goddamn car. I’ll take you home. But…I want a peek of that pussy. No fabric, just the puss.”

“Steve, can you not leave me alone?”

“No. I’m addicted. And you’re my drug. Take off the panties, and hand them to me. When we get in the car, I want to see your pussy that is crying for me. It’s what I deserve. She’s wet for me,” shivers drift through your body as you stare up at him. He was serious.

“And then you’ll leave me alone,” he shakes his head no, and you feel so defeated.

“Sweetheart, we were able to get cameras, and mics in your bedroom, do you not think I could just stare at your pussy while you sleep? Wouldn’t you rather be awake? It’s your fucking choice. But I still want the fucking panties,” he spins on his heels, walking to the car. Pitching a fit, while your brain and cunt are at war with one another.

“He’s meaner than you think,” Bucky warns, walking towards his bike. “I’d do as he says. Steve is more stubborn than you. And either way, he’s not going to stop.”

“He is giving you a choice,” Sam tilts his head towards the vehicle and taps at the gun on his hip. “I’ll give you a moment of privacy.”

Your chest heaves as you look at Sam and then the car. Steve was kind enough to leave the door open, but gave you no choice to retreat. A choice? A choice ot what? Give him your panties so he can gawk at your panties? Or a choice to be punished while he got harder at your paint? You didn’t understand what his game was, or what he even wanted. Besides you, and that would not happen.

“He doesn’t like to wait,” Sam groans at you, and you start to slowly walk to the blacked out SUV. Looking into the car at Steve who is fuming.

“Get in, and take your fucking panties off before I pull them off you myself,” don’t respond. Just do as he says. He doesn’t even look at you, until you close the door to the vehicle.

Lifting your ass off the seat, you slide your panties off, and put the soiled fabric in Steve’s hand and he smirks. His fingers rub over your slick that coats the fabric. Lifting off and strings of your arousal coats his fingers, before starting to pick up your skirt. “You know what else I want. Put your back on the door, and spread your legs. Give me a glimpse of that delectable pussy.”

“Steve, please…”

“Are you begging? You want me to take that cherry right here?” You shake your no. Feeling your lip start to tremble. “Put your back on the door, and lift your fucking skirt. I want to see what is mine.”

“It’s not yours.”

“But you are. She’s part of you, so she is my pussy,” you whisper no, but Steve scoots closer. Grabbing your knee with one hand, and spreading you further apart. His other hand goes under your skirt, and when he comes into contact with your weeping cunt, your eyes flutter. It is like fire on your skin as he roams through your slit.

“Yeah. You’re mine. And so is this,” his hand on your leg pulls you back enough for him to sink one finger down into your core, and your eyes roll in the back of your head. The sweetest little whimpers on your lips. “Oh…Dovey, she is a tight one. You really are a virgin, huh?”

“Y-y-yeah,” you sob. You couldn’t hide the pleasure you were getting from this, and he wasn’t doing much.

“I checked your drawer, I don’t want you to have toys that penetrate you. This hole right here, along with your ass, and your mouth belong to me,” he curls his finger, pumping into you a few times before you grab his wrist. Trying to pull him out from between your legs, but it was like tugging on a tree.

“Why are you denying yourself an orgasm? Even the other night you stopped before you fully came.”

“Steve, it’s too much. Stop stop stop,” pulling his hand out of your center, he brings it up to your lips. Painting your pout with your own juices like it was lipgloss before popping the finger into his mouth.

Moaning at your taste with a delighted grin, “Best thing I’ve put in my mouth. That is before I suck on your clit. Now, lean on the door, and let me see my pussy.”

“Why me?”

“Because I want you. Quit your fucking stalling before I make you ride the whole way to your apartment with three fingers in your cunt,” you couldn’t get out. Steve would assume to just take what he thought was his.

You take a deep calming breath as you spin to the side. Your ass squeaks on the leather from your arousal that had oozed onto the seat, but he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t utter not one word until you situate your legs further apart. Lifting up your skirt and Steve just stares. Letting out a deep moan, and you yelp.

“What?”

“Steve…you’re…” it’s the first time you have fully looked upon his manhood. You could see his heartbeat in his pants and his cock begs for something to fuck.

“Yeah, I’m fucking hard as a rock. These pants are uncomfortable. But how can I not get hard staring at that work of art? No, it truly is a slice of heaven. Let me taste you,” you shake your head no, trying to cover yourself back up, but Steve gives your legs a quick pull.

Your head goes back to the seat, and his face hovers right over your wide spread pussy. “Steve, she’s a damn virgin.”

“Oh my god,” you whine as Sam gets into the car.

“Better get used to it, sweetheart. Steve is a horny man, and when he wants you, or wants to just look at you, he will.”

“Shh, I’m staring at the face of God,” your eyes roll in the back of your head with his breath alone. He isn’t even touching you, and you are without a doubt a puddle. One that is dripping onto his expensive leather seats.

“It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. She won’t let me taste it, Samual. Dovey, just let me have one lick. Just one swipe from the back of your pussy all the way to that cute little button. Oh my god, Dovey, she is throbbing and swollen. She wants me to nibble on her. Can I?”

“No,” you nod your head yes because that sounded amazing. That pesky brain is still trying to save your soul from the devil.

“I don’t really fucking care,” just as he promised his tongue swipes up your slit. Ending at your clit where he kitten licks it. Flicking his tongue up and down before his lips circle around it, and he gives it a gentle suck. When he hears you moan out his name, he sucks harder. Adding a bit of pressure with his teeth, and your body convulses.

Screaming out his name like a cursed prayer. Lifting off the seat. Your legs try to suffocate him, but Steve would gladly die between your thighs. Your fingers try to cling onto every surface to no avail. Seeing stars when he sucks so hard you black out. Your body limp for a few seconds before you sit up in the seat.

Staring down at Steve who was worried about one thing and one thing only, he wanted to kill you on orgasms. Digging his teeth in again, he lightly scrapes down the swollen nub, and you scream out again. Hitting on his back, but it didn’t matter, Steve would have you in whatever way he wanted.

You buck your hips, flailing around, but nothing mattered. Nothing helped. He just wants you to feel blinding pleasure. And you are. Pleasure so deep into your soul that you feel as if you’re floating. The audience of Sam only adds to your pleasure.

It doesn’t matter if you are wiggling in the seat, kicking, hitting or screaming, Steve doesn’t stop. You can’t even breathe, and Steve continues playing with your sensitive bean. And then…he sinks only finger into your cunt, and you start to speak in another language. Taken to another plane of sin.

“She is sensitive, buddy. I guess the last time she got off was your leg,” Sam’s deep brown eyes look into the mirror at his friend. “Steve, you're going to make her pass out. How many times does she need to come?”

His voice steadily gets louder trying to talk over your noises, but Steve can’t listen. He is drowning in your juices. His oasis. Slurping up your leaking pussy, “Steve! That is enough!”

He pulls off your clit with a pop, and wipes your essence off his beard. Staring down at your sprawled out self. Your clit engorged in pleasure, and you panting like a bitch in heat. “Try and tell me no again, Dovey. We’re here. Walk your sloppy little self up to your room. I’ll be waiting to make sure you get home okay.”

“You’re mean,” your voice is weak. Smoky and worn by the amount of times you had came.

“Yeah, and you got off, and enjoyed it. Don’t ignore my calls again. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes…sir,” you straighten yourself out as much as you can, and you hobble into your apartment. Ready to strip out of your clothes, and pass out. Getting to your room, you’re ready to scream.

In the middle of your bed is a mound of new “suitable” panties. There are hundreds of them in all colors, and materials. Looking out your window, you spot him. Pants swollen, as he stands there with an evil grin beside Bucky.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you don’t have to look to know it’s him. You had a shadow called Bucky who clearly is always around when you’re not with Steve.

I got you a present, Dovey. You’ll find the others are gone. You only get to be a slut with me. Now, I’ll let you put on a fashion show for me. Or let you grind on a pillow again. What do you say?

Walking over to your curtains, you close them. They could stand out there all night, but they weren’t going to watch you.

Good girl

You need a moment. There is anger and frustration drifting into every part of you. Grabbing up a wad of those stupid panties, you sling them to the floor. Over and over again, until your bed is finally clean, and another ping.

I thought you’d like my gift. That hurts you want to just throw them on the floor.

“Stop watching me!” You twist around your room violently trying to locate the cameras and mics.

Quit looking, Dovey. You won’t find them. And if you, I’ll just have them replaced. And I won’t stop. Now get your ass into bed. You’re gonna need the sleep. Now that I’ve tasted you, you’ll never get rid of me. Goodnight, Dovey.

Say it back or I come up there to you.

Goodnight, sir.

Steve smiles, nodding his head at Bucky. “She won’t be masturbating tonight. But, I’ll watch from my phone since she finally closed her curtains. Don’t lose sight of her. I’ve only just begun.”

“You’re so mean,” you whimper, covering your entire body with your blanket. You know you’ll never escape him. And if you do, he’ll just drag you right back to him. But that doesn’t mean you won’t try. And you will. You’ll continue to try, and just maybe this little bird will get out of the cage she put herself in.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @theinheriteddutchess @annaallicce @feyfantome @jesevans @tittittoee @bananapiedreams @onclouds999 @darkserenity24 @abbatoirablaze @ashychangeling

#your mark on me #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fics #chris evans #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes #sam wilson

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anchoeritic · 2 years

Text

「 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐭. 」

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: stepdad!sam x fem!reader x stepdad’sbestfriend!bucky

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ only // minors dni // nsfw content, dark!fic, cnc kink (dubcon/non-con), step-cest, angry/possessive sam eek(he has reasoning shhh), daddy kink, spit kink, overstimulation, ddlg dynamics, slight bondage, oral (male receiving), deepthroating, choking kink, face slapping, manipulation, degradation kink, anal & vaginal fingering, ass play, dacryphilia(crying kink), hair pulling kink, the pet name ‘peach’, voyeurism kink, them basically fighting over you, squirting. if you are upset/easily triggered by any of these warnings, go ahead and click off.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: "your body is mine to use, mine to control," pressing a soft kiss to your wet cheek "mine to share."

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is a repost of one of my older dark fanfics, but do feel free to send in new ideas for future fics! reblogs and feedback are always appreciated, thank you. <3

a breathy chuckle left from his lips as his gaze moved back to your trembling body. your legs were still shaking from the previous orgasm, wrists all scratched up from the many harsh attempts at trying to escape from him.

the light in your eyes no longer showing, replaced with the shade of lust; dark red. your pupils were wider than usual, it was like you were under some spell. his spell.

"little girl, you knew the consequences," placing a finger under your chin "yet you still tried to fuckin' play with me." he ended the sentence off angrily, jerking your face the other way.

you broke his rules again. it wasn't entirely your fault. you couldn't help but feel something whenever your stepfather's friend came by.

he was tall, had broad shoulders, patchy face with the littlest bit of fuzz around his rosy lips. the most intimidating eyes; if he looked long enough, you swore it would pierce through you.

his presence was enough to send chills down your spine. every time his truck drove up to your driveway, your thighs would rub together, the place between your legs starting to ache out of desperation. neediness.

it was wrong to feel something towards your stepfather's best friend. your daddy's pal from work. to imagine his face between your thighs, to wonder how your fingers would feel tangled up in his hair.

to feel your pussy throb whenever he called you 'sweetheart', imagining him balls deep inside your cunt, thrusting into you at an intimate pace.

to hear his praises, to listen to him call you his good girl after you creamed all over his cock.

to taste him.

if it was so wrong, then why did it feel so good?

"you can never keep your legs shut, can you?" he growled, laying a light smack against your cheek. "thought you were daddy's girl," cupping your jaw roughly, bringing your face right in front of his "seems like you're not daddy's at all after all, huh?"

"just a little slut who can't follow rules." you whimpered, starting to tear up at the increase in volume in his voice.

you had him angry. you got him furious this time.

"i-i'm sorry, daddy!" you babbled out. "didn't mean to, didn't mean to!"

he laughed, tilting his head back a little as an evil grin spread across his lips. it wasn't usual that you were a brat, especially towards your daddy. and he knew that, he knew his little girl. but today, you were in for a ride.

the grip on your jaw tightened. "didn't mean to? is that your excuse?" his foot tapped your pussy slowly, making your legs open up. a quiet cry fell from your throat as the tip of his leather shoe went on to assault your overstimulated clit.

"you think you can trick me, little girl?" he tested you, chuckling at the thought of you trying to lie to him.

you shook your head quickly in response, the tears in your eyes threatening to spill out at any given moment. "never-- never, daddy!"

sam smiled darkly, pulling your face impossibly closer, his warm breath fanning over your face.

"listen here, girl--" you whined, trying to get out of his grip. "stop fucking moving!" he spat. the hand around your jaw was no longer there, but slid down to your throat, choking you aggressively.

"you fucking listen to me right now, i'm not going along with your stupid attitude anymore." sam mumbled through his clenched teeth. "i make the rules here, i rule over you," practically spitting on you now "you are my puppet. you are for my use. you go under my rules, girl."

his foot tapped your bare cunt again, causing your body to jolt up out of sensitivity. "understand?"

you nodded your head, obeying him. "just daddy's silly little puppet." you repeated, blinking.

your glassy eyes broke into shards, the hot tears falling down the palettes of your cheeks. his puppet. he hummed in response, confirming.

"your body is mine to use, mine to control," pressing a soft kiss to your wet cheek "mine to share."

share? you thought, confused. not once had he brought up the conversation of another person in your relationship. the thought of someone else fucking your his pussy always got him worked up and angry. so what was he talking about?

who was he talking about?

the door swung open, a tall figure coming into your view. broad shoulders, tall, leather gloves, strong jaw structure.

"hello again, peach" the voice called out, walking closer towards you two. "don't tell me you already forgot about me."

it was your stepfather's best friend; bucky barnes.

bucky laughed in amusement, the sight of you all teary-eyed making him pity you. "had you crying for more a few days ago, peach"

"i'm sure you remember."

sam cackled, removing his hand from your throat, letting you fall forward. “oh, i’m sure she does” licking his lips “don’t you, peach?” he mocked, shaking his head at you.

“i-i—“ you stuttered, looking up at bucky with widened eyes.

“shall we take a trip down memory lane, sweetness?” bucky offered, swiping his thumb over your cupid’s bow gently. you hummed, biting the insides of your cheeks. “hm, good.”

his thumb fell down to the slit of your lips, the tip of the finger sliding between the pair. he leaned down beside you, lips beside your ear. “show him how you scream for me, peach”

“i know you want me. you crave me. show him how much you need me.”

a bright smile spread across your lips as you heard his words fall from within. you sure did want him, and you definitely craved him. but how much were you willing to risk for your stepdad’s work pal?

the zipper on his pants flew down in an instant, bucky being too impatient to wait for your confirmation. he wanted to be inside you already. whether it was down your throat or sunk in your tight cunt; he was just as desperate as you were for him.

your touch was different. you were on the gentler side, soft side really. you weren’t like the other older girls he usually slept around with. you were warm, you had something within you that made him want more. was it the risk? the thrill?

both? one may never know.

pumping himself in front of you, he moaned at the sight of you on your knees for him. it was a scene he couldn’t take off his mind. it was forever engraved inside his little box of thoughts. dirty thoughts.

bucky was fucking his best friend’s stepdaughter. how much more dirty can this be? your hands were tied up behind your back, you had tears streaming down your face, he walked in on you getting put in place by sam, how much dirtier can this be?

“open up, darlin’,” he instructed, tapping his tip against the heart of your lips. “promise it’ll fit, don’t you worry, peach.”

“mmm..” you opened your mouth, letting his cock fill your throat entirely.

bucky groaned, throwing his head back. “see, you’re doing so good” rocking his hips to meet your bobs “just like how i remember; so damn perfect.”

your pussy throbbed at the praise, he knew what his words did to you, what the pet name did. your panties dampened, the wetness between your legs increasing.

he placed his hands on the top of your head, pushing you down. your eyes stinging with tears as you took him deeper down your throat, the bulge of his cock starting to show. saliva dripped from the sides of your mouth, spilling everywhere on the floor.

“peach, you really are my cockslut, aren’t you? you love taking my cock down your throat, don’t you?”

sam scoffed from behind, looking away from the two of you. jealous? yes. but who’s fault was that? he was willing to share you and your body, he’s the only one to blame. guess "mine to share." wasn’t an honest statement after all, huh?

“fuck, i’m about to cum.” you began to bob your head faster, trying to quicken up his climax, only for him to pull his hips away from you.

the fingers that were tangled in your hair pulled you backwards unexpectedly, causing you to start coughing from the sudden wind of air shooting throughout your air ways.

“as much as i’d love to cum in your mouth,” cupping your cheeks “i’d rather cum in that pretty pussy of yours, peach.”

bucky smirked, leaning down to kiss you sloppily. “gotta get you ready for me first, okay, peach?”

you giggled, kissing him back. “mhm..”

he laid you on your back softly, spreading your legs open with his palms. sam walked closer to you, crouching down beside your sprawled out body.

sam started “isn’t it odd that you call her peach yet love to play with her pussy, barnes” slapping the inside of your thigh.

“shut it, sam.” he grumbled, swatting his hand away from you.

sam raised his eyebrow, placing his hand back on your thigh. “remember who’s she is, buck.”

he ignored him, running his metal hand down your sex. his fingers gathered all the wetness around your cunt, using it as easier access to your holes. bucky’s finger circled around your clit in figure 8’s, smiling evilly as he felt your body spasm.

your chest heaved up and down heavily, flashes of red coming into your view. “b-bucky, fuck, bucky…” you cried, hoisting your hips up.

he dipping his cold fingers into you, sinking them deep between your velvet walls. he pumped his fingers into you at a pleasurable pace, keeping the rhythm slow and deep.

“cry for me, peach. fuckin’ sob for me.” he whispered, curling his fingers inside of you, making your orgasm impossible to avoid.

he was really stretching you out this time. preparing you, as he calls it. making sure you’re tight enough, ready enough for him.

“‘m gonna cum, i-i’m gonna cum!” you chanted, rolling your eyes back.

“cum for me. cum all over my fingers.”

your orgasm goes by quicker than expected, the curl of his fingers tipping you over the edge. a wave of pleasure ran over you, sending violent chills all throughout your body.

a broken cry escaped from your lips, your eyes seeing starry skies. blanks of white and black, tiny sparkles taking over your sight.

he watched in satisfaction as your eyes rolled back in pleasure. your thighs trembled, attempting to close shut on his arm. fuck, you were a work of art.

the face of an innocent angel, body of the dirtiest sinner, you were practically made to take him. to take both of them. your beautiful lips wrapping around his cock perfectly, the pretty sound of your moans were like music to his ears.

the soft jiggle of your breasts when he would thrust his fingers into you, the way your lips parted when you were about to cum.

they were obsessed with you.

sam snickered, running his hand down your thigh, pushing them apart. “nuh-uh - we’re not done, little one.” smirking.

“open up again, baby.”

you obeyed, spreading your trembling legs apart slowly. if it wasn’t for the support of bucky’s hand on your ankle guiding you, your leg would’ve been down on the ground already.

“she has such a tight pussy, doesn’t she?” sam asked bucky, pressing a kiss to your knee.

bucky nodded, discreetly licking his lips. “the tightest.” making your cheeks heat up.

sam’s hand slid down the inside of your thigh, his fingers brushing over your used cunt. “tightest pussy, hm?”

“let’s see how tight that fuckin’ ass is then.”

your eyes widened, “but daddy, i can’t—“ his other hand came at your throat for the second time, rougher than it was before. squeezing the sides of your neck, he had you looking back up at him with glossy eyes.

“you can, and you will.” he growled. “remember who fucking owns this body, little one.”

gulping, you nodded your head once again, convincing him to drop his hand from your neck. “s-sorry, daddy.”

his fingers circled over your second - most forbidden hole yet, using your previous orgasm as lube, and spreading it around.

with a quivering lip, you moved your gaze back onto bucky, looking at him with scared eyes. he grinned softly back at you, placing his hand on your cheek, starting to caress it.

he was trying to comfort you. “shh… you’re going to love it, peach. i promise.” you understood, blinking your eyes. “you promise, buck?” whispering; voice coming out a little exhausted

“i promise, my peach.” his thumb smoothed over the top of your cheek sweetly.

it was now sam’s turn to pull down his zipper.his dress pants fell down to his ankles as he loosened the belt that held it together, pulling the end of the leather out from the metal loop. he folded his belt, holding onto it with one hand.

"peach, peach, peach, huh?" sam mocked again out of jealousy, shaking his head. "keep that shit to yourself, barnes. you're nothing compared to me."

his finger sunk into your tightest hole, stretching you out in the slowest way possible. the feeling was foreign to you, you had never experienced anything like this. getting fucked in the ass was always a dream of yours, but you were never brave enough to ask, let alone, try it at all.

he wiggled the tip of his finger, moving it in and out. "daddy," you gasped, raising your head up high to try to see the way his digit disappeared into your ass. "i-it feels so good..."

sam raised an eyebrow "who's making you feel this good, baby?"

"you, daddy." you breathlessly confessed.

bucky clenched his jaw, kissing his teeth. "don't you get it, barnes? i'm the one she runs back to every night." anger rose in both the men; the pace of sam's fingering starting to quicken up, bucky tightening his fist.

"you know the way to her heart, but you'll never know the way to her limit like i do."

"you got her to break my rules, but you'll never get her to obey you like she does with me. i started with her," your cries getting louder, the pain of the stretch turning into pure pleasure "and i will fuckin' end with her."

"shut the fuck up, sam." bucky snarled back, slipping his hand down to your pussy. the pad of his finger came in contact with the sensitive nub of your clit, brushing over it gently.

your body shook, legs trembling; struggling to stay up any longer. "i can't- too much!"

"or what?" sam challenged bucky, scoffing "she's my little girl."

bucky pinched your clit, "your little girl? you can barely keep your "little girl" under control around me" causing you to squeal "she can't help but always spread her damn legs, wilson."

another orgasm was building up inside you, your stomach bubbling. the pleasure was so hard to try to ignore. bucky playing with your clit, sam fucking you in your ass; it felt too good, you couldn't hold it any longer.

"daddy- bucky!" you called out, trying to shut your legs together, only for them to each push a thigh down with their free hands, pinning your knees beside your head.

"when did i say you can fuckin' talk, little one?" sam shot at you "the adults are talking, peach." bucky quickly backed him up.

"b-but--"

"no but's. stay quiet." sam ordered, bucky smacking your cunt lightly causing your body to jolt.

the more he threw you around, the more they used you, the more you felt. the pain, the pleasure, the thrill, the bliss. you felt it all, it had your insides churning.

you were just a silly little puppet. their toy. they were fighting over you. your body. like you were the last one on the shelf.

letting out a loud wail, another orgasm crashed on you; the most powerful one yet. you were shaking violently, your thighs vibrating. you swore you felt your soul getting ripped right out of you.

"no more, no more!" sam and bucky's attention got back on you, the sight in front of them causing their pants to grow tighter, their cocks stirring in desperation.

you were cumming hard. squirting. you had tears streaming down your cheeks, fluid squirting from your pussy. you were a sight for sore eyes.

"daddy!" you whined once more, arching your back off the floor. "good, too good!"

bucky licked his lips, swatting your clit faster. he knew what he was doing to you. you knew what he was doing to you. he wanted more.

sam's eyes darkened, a smile spreading on his lips in amazement.

"c'mon, peach, i know you got a little more in you."

your eyes stung, "no, no!" only making him go faster. "one more for us, baby." sam spoke.

"i know you can do it, my sweet girl."

a broken sob fell from your lips, the last one of the night(or so you thought). you were cumming hard again, the immense amount of pleasure not being able to stop your body, only encouraging it to go harder.

you were out of breath, numb. you couldn't feel your throat anymore; your screams ruining your vocal cords. your thighs wouldn't stop shaking, it was like the pleasure wouldn't stop. it was like torture in the most pleasing way.

"there ya go, peach. so good for me." bucky praised.

you were all over their clothes, your fluids coating the entirety of bucky and sam's hand. "p-please no more." you hiccuped.

the two men sent each other a side-eye, the evil spark in their eyes causing them both to smirk down at you.

"who said we were done with you?"

"i-i just-" you started, interrupted by sam. "i make the rules here, sweetheart. don't get it twisted."

"my body, my pussy," he leaned down, coming face to face with you.

"my puppet to use."

#bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes #sam wilson #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #sam wilson smut #sam wilson x you #sam wilson x y/n #dark fiction #dark fic #dark!sam #dark!bucky x reader #stepdad!sam #dbf!bucky

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ramp-it-up · 1 year

Text

The Sweetest Nectar

Pairings: Sam Wilson x Reader. Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: Steve is pining for you and the fact that you are Sam’s girl doesn’t mean a thing.

Word Count: 1K.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. SMUT,

Warnings: Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk; curate your own experience. Soft Dark Subby Nomad Steve Rogers. Darkish reader. Mention of pre-serum Steve, Lap dance in public, voyeurism, masturbation, mention of drugs and alcohol, pining, angst, teasing, exhibitionism (on reader’s part), possible non con exhibitionism (on Sam’s part). Oral sex (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up), sloppy seconds, possible cheating. All errors my own.

A/N: Thanks for this ask! It streched me.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

You were giving your boyfriend a lap dance on Steve’s couch, and it made the host irrationally happy.

Steve was glad that Sam had someone, especially someone as sweet as you. Damn, you were probably so fucking sweet.

Steve licked his lips as he watched your hips undulate in front of Sam’s face. This was the perfect opportunity to watch you and ogle your body, because everyone was a little tipsy and a little high and doing it too.

It was all in fun, right?

You glanced at Steve upside down as you gyrated on Sam’s lap now, and bent backward all the way over, your braids touching the floor, giving the room a view of your luscious tits.

Yeah. You were perfect. And this night was the highlight since Steve came out of the ice.

You winked at Steve and his face grew red, but he played it off by taking another drink and rubbing his beard while flipping his long hair out of his face.

It worked on countless other women, but you just sat back up and pulled Sam’s face into the valley of your breasts, gasping as he motorboated your clothed breasts and grabbed the glorious globes of your blue-jeaned ass.

People laughed, but Steve’s mood changed; he started plotting dismemberment and where to scatter body parts when Bucky came up to stand beside him and watch.

“Hold it up a little higher, buddy.”

Steve didn’t tear his eyes away from you as he took another drink and replied.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“That torch you’re carrying. Maybe she’ll see it if you hold it up higher, Lady Liberty.”

Steve just scoffed and drank some more, not denying anything that Bucky had said.

Bucky laughed and went to get another beer, as Steve practically cried in his, his heart silently aching for you.

—-

You and Sam were in Steve’s bedroom, taking advantage of the fact that everyone else was doing body shots in the kitchen.

“F-f-fuckkkkk! Samuel T-t-t-hom… fuck, Samuel Thomas W-w-wilsonnnnn.”

You were grabbing Sam’s ears as he skillfully ate you out, looking down on him between your legs as he sucked and pulled and played with your clit.

“Fucky, Baby… where did you learn to do … goddamn…”

You panted to try and catch your breath as he inserted three fingers inside you and spread them out.

“Holyyyyyy Shhhhhhh!!!!!!!!”

You came like a freight train, your knees clamping down around Sam’s head. Sam’s large hands pried you from around his face and came up for air, a triumphant smirk on his face. He held your legs open and gazed at the pretty dark, wet lips of your cunt and the creamy liquid oozing out between them.

“Learning new techniques every day. Just to keep you satisfied, darlin’,”

Sam shook his head and watched as your pretty pussy lips sheltered your still quivering folds.

“It’s a beautiful view.”

Steve silently agreed from the closet, watching your beautiful cunt shine in the dim light from the street. He had his hand wrapped around his cock, fisting himself brutally at the sights, sounds, and faint smell of you. Steve silently willed Sam to action, wanting to hear how that wet pussy sounded when it was fucked good.

It was just like before the war, when he watched Bucky…

“Hmmmm, Daddy. Give me some. Please? Pretty please. Will you give me some of that thick dick?”

You leaned back, legs still open, looking up at Sam, who was standing now, in front of you.

Your face, fucked out and glowing, looked up at his friend as you licked your lips was everything in the world to Steve Rogers right now.

Steve imagined it was him you were begging, and he didn’t know if he wanted you to suck Sam off or let him fuck you senseless. He just knew that wanted to bust this nut.

“Assume the fucking position then.”

You whimpered, and Steve nearly bust in his hand.

“Yes, Daddy.”

You got on all fours on the bed and that view was even better than before. Oh, how he’d eat that ass, Steve thought.

Sam smacked both cheeks three times, and your moans and sighs alone were enough to make Steve cum. He watched his friend line up his thick dick and swipe it through your folds, and could almost feel your beautiful wetness. Stevehad to bite his lips to hold in his own grunts as Sam slowly, wetly, and solidly sank into you.

“Ohhhhhh… shit….DADDY!!!”

“Fuuuuuccccckkkkkk!”

Sam’s head lolled back on his shoulders as he bottomed out and Steve’s eyes practically rolled back in his head as he witnessed the ecstasy.

Then, Sam looked down and smacked your ass again. Steve watched, rapt, as Sam slowly pulled almost all the way out, then plunged quickly back into your wet goodness. He bet you were so warm. Sam did it again and again and again, faster and faster, and faster. Steve stroked in time as you moaned louder and louder and louder, oblivious to the others at the party.

Steve watched your back arch, and your flesh shake and ripple with every back shot delivered. He was so fucking close.

“Daddy? Daddy? Please Daddy.. I wanna, I wanna….I neeeeeed to…”

“Cum, Darlin’... give it to me. Fuck yeah!”

Sam’s voice was a growl and as you started shaking, Steve’s cum started spilling into his palm and the sock that he was using to contain it.

“Shhsshhhhittttttt….” Steve’s whisper was not silent, but quiet enough that you two wouldn’t hear it over your own noises.

You and Sam collapsed on the bed..

“That was great, Darlin’. You shouldn’t tease me like that in public. ‘S not gonna stop me from giving it to you.”

Sam kissed your nose.

“I am well aware of what that does to a man. Makes it that much better, Daddy.”

Sam laughed, and then moved toward the bathroom.

“We better get outta here, before Steve catches us in his bedroom.”

You looked toward the bathroom and then sat up on the edge of the bed, legs open again.

Steve saw your wrecked pussy, the combination of you and Sam seeping out, and his cock swelled again. He nearly yelled when he saw you playing in it again. It was like you were doing it just for him.

But you stopped when Sam came back out to get dressed.

“I need a little more time to get cleaned up. You go ahead.”

“Ok Darlin,” Sam leaned over and kissed your forehead and you reached for a peck on the lips.

“You made me hungry, took all my energy. I’m going to go eat some food.”

Sam winked and left the room smiling and happy.

When the door closed, you stared straight at the closet.

“Well? Are you going to stay in there and jack off again, or are you going to come out and clean me up?”

You leaned back on your hands, legs wide.

“Now’s your chance Steve. I know you’re in there. Are you going to come out Captain?”

Steve gulped. Then he couldn’t help but comply.

“Fuck…”

Steve emerged from the closet, the tip hard cock glistening and stiff at the opening of his undone pants. He walked toward you and dropped to his knees.

You threaded your hand in his hair, brushing it away from his forehead as he closed his eyes at your touch. You guided his head toward your throbbing cunt.

“You get sloppy seconds, but I bet that’s what you like…”

“Yes ma’am.”

Steve nodded vigorously as his tongue collected the sweetest nectar he’d ever tasted.

#ask dj #dj will answer #sam wilson #steve rogers #nomad steve #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson smut #sam wilson x black!reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #soft dark steve rogers #bucky barnes #avengers #chris evans fanfics #anthony mackie #sebastian stan

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harryspet · 2 years

Text

raised by wolves | b.barnes & y.belova

[Warnings] dark!alpha!bucky x reader, grey!yelena x reader, bucky x reader x yelena, bucky barnes x yelena belova, werewolf au, a/b/o dynamics, beta!reader, wilson!reader, stalking, forced mating/marking, noncon/dubcon, raunchy threesome ahead, polyamory, oral sex (female recieving), dominant/submissive, unprotected sex, hints at breeding, forced orgasms, kidnapping (pretty much), bucky is a dumb alpha, yelena is a good teacher

A/N: My inspiration for this is basically seeking sister wife meets GoT dany/drogo lol

In which Bucky and Yelena find the mate of their dreams.

word count: 8k

taglist: @cherienymphe @marvelmaree @onsunnyside @autumnroses-blog @isysen @inlovewithhisblueeyes @reveise @speechlessxx @lesbians4levinson2021 @darksideofthecocoamoon @darkndirtyndangerous @mayasreadingnook @yelenabelovadeservesbetter @queenoftheworldisdead @khaleesiaura @ tastycakee @honeydulcewrites @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy

(!!no one on my taglist interacts anymore so i’m adding some people who have recently interacted with my stories, let me know if you’d like to be removed!!)

“Sam, you really didn’t have to do this.”

You had rolled your eyes so hard when you saw him pull into the dirt road you called your driveway. He lugged brown paper bags full of groceries into your home despite the fact that you had already budgeted and created a list for what you were going to get on your next trip. Your vegetable plants were already sprouting and that was going to save you even more money.

“Your idea of a full and satisfying meal is totally different from mine. Mama always made us three meals a day, and snacks, to keep us healthy, and your little vegetable diet is not going to keep you strong.”

“So you think I’m getting weaker?” You followed your older brother into your own kitchen and he began to pile all of the food into your mostly empty cabinets. Your kitchen was built into a small, half square shape with old oak cabinets and an even older, green refrigerator, “Sam, I will continue to run circles around you until we’re old and decrepit.”

“Hey, I’ll admit you’ve beaten me a few times but you ain't never ran circles around me. Besides that, I know for a fact you couldn’t beat me right now. When is the last time you’ve even shifted? How much do you even exercise when you’re spending all your time reading, going to work, and playing in your little garden?”

Your lips parted in shock, “I shift every week … at least! And I do exercise! I’ve got miles and miles of forest surrounding me, plenty of room to exercise and you know what’s even better about that? I don’t have to wake up to your yapping and I don’t have to fall asleep anywhere near your smelly butt.”

Sam simply smiled and you realized he was getting a kick out of riling you up. You and Sam were always close and it was dumb of you to assume that the he’d be able to give you more space even after moving so far away. He’d traveled five hours just to come and see you.

“And your sparring skills? You don’t have anyone to practice with.”

“Sam, I’m fine,” His face fell a little and you wondered where his usual light-hearted spirit had gone, “You came up here for a different reason, right?”

He went quiet, piling frozen meat into your small freezer, “Sam?” You pried again, approaching him with your arms crossed, “What’s up?”

“Bucky escaped. When he got caught by those hunters, we thought they would kill him. Turns out, they’ve just been poking and prodding at him for years.”

“He . . .” The news jarred you and suddenly Sam’s visit made even more sense, “But he doesn’t have a pack.”

“You think Bucky Barnes needs a pack to be strong,” It was sarcastic and you knew Sam was only being blunt because he was serious. And probably scared too, “And we didn’t get news about his escape until this week. He’s been out for months. Plenty of time to form allegiances.”

“But he doesn’t … he doesn’t know where I-”

“Y/N,” He warned, a hint of his alpha tone threatening to escape his mouth, “Me coming here was a risk, I know that, but you staying is even more of a risk.”

Barnes killed his father for a title that was meant to be honorably passed down to him. When his own mother resisted his rule, he killed her too. He expected everyone to bow down to him but most of his pack sought refuge in places like our pack, The Red Wing Pack.

“And bring chaos back to Red Wing?” You shook your head, “It’s not worth it.”

Sam sighed, and you sensed that he was expecting your answer. He wouldn’t have brought all these groceries if he’d expected you to leave with him.

“He killed every hunter and scientist in the building where they were keeping him. I got word from the Sokovian pack after they cleaned everything up, burned the whole place down. He’s bloodthirsty, little sister. He’s going to want land, he’s going to want power, and he’s going to want mates. Dad had no idea what Bucky would turn out to be when he promised you to him. He also didn’t know you’d present as a Beta.”

Everything about the pack system was archaic. That was the whole reason why you moved far away from your entire family. Bucky Barnes’s father saved your own father’s life years before you were even born. He saved your entire pack and he promised his first born daughter to the first born son of his new ally. The union would create one of the strongest pack allyships on the continent.

“And no one would ever concede their power to him, let alone marry him!”

“Alpha Romanov has allied with him, she helped him kill Alpha Barton.”

You froze, “Clint is dead? That doesn’t make any sense. Why would Natasha have him killed?”

“She believes in Bucky. That he’s going to come out on top during all of this. That outweighed her loyalty. That’s why you’re just my first stop on my road trip. I’m meeting with lots of packs. We’re gonna need a strong force to combat this and we have to be prepared for anything-”

“Including war?”

Sam nodded, “Including war.”

“Sam, you know I don’t want any part of that. It’s enough that Dad basically sold me like his most prized horse. I don’t want or need a pack. I want to be … normal.”

Sam’s face was sullen, “You’ll call me every few days? It’s hard knowing you’re alone out here. And if I don’t hear from you, you know I’ll-”

“Send the whole pack for me? I know,” You sighed. You felt a bit suffocated by the news you’d received. Bucky Barnes was a real reason to panic but you’d already made yourself less of a target and Sam would never reveal where you lived. Besides that, you had no reason to believe that Bucky would come after you. You’d never met him, by the time you were born, he’d already established himself as the troubled son who’d run away from his pack, leading a group of rogues and causing catastrophe in his path. Your Dad passed away when you were still a toddler, and even if he was alive, he’d never allow Bucky near you, “Thank you for the groceries, Sam.”

Sam clapped his hands together, “You’re welcome. I guess that’s my cue to get out of your hair.”

“I’ll call whenever I can.”

Sam pulled you into a hug, leaving a comforting kiss on your forehead.

Three weeks passed and you’d spoken to Sam at least four times. Every conversation was similar with Sam updating you on his progress, how many packs he’d spoken to, and how many agreed to fight against Bucky if the time came. That if was slowly turning to when. With each pack, Sam was also learning more rumors about Bucky. He’d taken Yelena, Alpha Romanov’s sister as a mate, a symbol for his alliance with the Black Widow pack. He’d also gained alliances with at least two smaller packs by challenging the Alphas and winning their packs through killing them.

The conversations were turning more gruesome and you began to call Sam less and less. It wasn’t that you weren’t about your big brother but you knew he could take care of himself. Besides that, the more you think about home, the more you were distracted during your new life. There was a small town twenty minutes from your cottage, there were only about ten shops in the downtown area, and you’d manage to get a job at Wagging Pet Grooming. Your boss noted your incredibly unique energy that seemed to calm down any scared dog.

A blonde woman entered the shop and you greeted her with a smile, expecting a dog to be in tow. You could tell she was shorter from just standing on the other side of the counter from her. She didn’t even have a purse, you noted, her hands in the back pocket of her jeans, “Hi, can I help you with something?”

The fact that you didn’t recognize her as one of the usual customers set off a small alarm in your mind.

“Hi,” There was a layer of sweat on her forehead and she sounded as if she was out of breath, “I’m sorry to bother you. I’m not from around here, I was just stopping in my car for a second, and it totally pooped out. You wouldn’t happen to be able to jump me, would you?”

Her accent alone was a good indication that she wasn’t from here. You rounded the front counter, “Where’s your car?”

“In front of the hardware store across the street,” She pointed out the glass window.

“Uhm, let me close up the store, and I’ll bring my car around front.”

“Oh, thank you so much …” Her eyes met with your nametag, “Kelly, you’re saving my life.”

It was easier and safer for you to have a new name as well as a completely made up background.

You did as you said. Bringing your dinged up jeep to the other side of the street where she was waiting. You had your own jumper cables and learning how to use them was one of the first things you learned when you went out on your own.

You attached the cables the way you remembered, “Okay, I’m gonna turn my car on and then you try to start yours.” Her car was quite nicer than yours, a practically brand new crossover.

It only takes two tries for her car to turn on.

When you moved to detach the cables, she got out the car to hug you, “Oh my god, Kelly, you’re amazing,” It catches you off guard and you mostly go stiff though her hugging abilities are quite impressive, “Sorry, I should buy you lunch. Can I buy you lunch?”

You instantly shook your head, “No but thank you. I packed mine. And uhm, you should get driving anyways. You wanna keep the car running for a while.”

“Oh,” She smiled brightly at you, “Well, I won’t bother you any longer. It was nice to meet you, Kelly. Us single girls have to stick together, right?”

“Right.”

The way she spoke your fake name made your mouth twitch, ruining the facade of the kind look you were giving her. She was beautiful, no doubt, and that made you curious why she was traveling alone. You supposed you could say the same thing about yourself. You said a brief goodbye to her, watching as she pulled away in her car. Her gaze was so intense before that you could almost feel it lingering on you still.

Sam warned you against shifting as well as making sure you were never being followed when returning from work. In this part of the country, the population was so small that there was rarely any news of crimes being committed. The last controversy you heard while in town was about one deer hunter accidentally shooting another. And you didn’t have to worry about deer hunters either. It would be impossible for a human to catch a Beta werewolf, gun or no gun.

You could shift anytime you needed but the full moon was nearing and your wolf was aching to escape. You’d stick close by the perimeter of your property and you’d make your way back as soon as your wolf was satisfied.

You left your work clothes folded by a tree, letting the light of the moon peeking through the trees soak your naked skin for a brief moment. You imagined that if you were a human girl, being naked in the woods at night would be a grave nightmare. For you, this felt like the most normal you could possibly be.

When you were in wolf form, there were no to do lists to go over and little to no worries that ever crossed your mind. You only thought of the stretching of your limbs, the wind through your brown fur, the presence of the moon goddess, and the desire to hunt. Your wolf certainly wouldn’t survive on your usual diet for vegetables and you found yourself more hungry for meat than usual. You traveled farther than usual, using a trail that you’d mentally mapped out yourself.

Hunting was much easier in groups and you knew this. You decided to hunt a much smaller prey, one that didn’t have hooves and antlers that could injure you. You were careful when you spotted a rabbit along the trail. You kept your distance, following it for a long while, until it perked up, realizing that you were there and it was in imminent damage. The rabbit was fast but you were much faster. You pounced on it, immobilizing it with your paws before quickly biting its throat. You bit at it excitedly, starting with the largest internal organs.

Your excitement was short lived, suddenly realizing that you’d just become someone else’s prey. You were distracted long enough for another wolf to enter your vicinity but you wasted no time, deciding to sprint away as fast as you could. By the smell, you could sense lots of wolves, but most importantly, you could sense an Alpha.

You weren’t weak by any means, but you weren’t as strong as you could be. There wasn’t enough time to think about Sam being right but you were sure that thought would come to haunt you later. You couldn’t lead them back to your cottage but you knew you couldn’t out run them forever. You were weak, and wolves could chase their prey for days on end.

Suddenly, your chance to panic and plan was interrupted. Whoever had found you, caught up to you much faster than you could even comprehend. You turned up, trying to trip them up or send them tumbling into the base of the tree. They kept their footing despite your attempt, and just like the rabbit, you were pounced on next.

You rolled together with a mass of muscle and black fur, the only sound in your ears was the Alpha’s deafening growl. Red eyes stared down at you as your body was pinned. You fought back of course, landing some deep bites to his skin, but that only left you open for him to stick his fangs deep into your neck. An Alpha’s bite to the neck served two purposes, to kill or to mate. When the Alpha didn’t immediately rip out your throat, confusion clouded you rather than fear. You were waiting to die and you certainly preferred it to the alternative.

He slowly removed his teeth, leaving you whimpering loud enough to wake the dead. You were a Beta, you deserved the respect of being courted, of your father’s permission being granted, and your own approval being considered.

He’d bit into your scent gland, marking you like you were an Omega. Worse than that. He’d marked you like you were less than Omega.

You didn’t recognize his scent. Only that he smelt similar to those you knew from the Winter Pack. As you put the pieces together, Sam’s voice echoed in your head.

Blood dripped from his mouth as he admired his word, sniffing the wound, before pressing his snout into your forehead. He was taking in your scent which was rapidly changing into one that would match a mated female. Through the corners of your eyes, you saw several wolves were now surrounding the two of you. They’d keep their because of him but you wish greatly someone would drag your body away or at least finish the job.

You couldn’t keep your eyes open for much longer with the pain becoming too much. The last thing you saw was a blonde she-wolf, one with shining blue eyes, and you were lulled to sleep as she licked your wounds.

It all happened to be a nightmare. That’s why you awoke in the lavender sheets and polkadot comforter of your own bed. The sun was peeking through your curtains like they always did and you already had your usual craving of a cup of hot coffee. All was fine, except you realized you could barely move your own face. As you turned your head only a little bit, pain shot through your body.

Tears slipped down your face, from the pain and from the realization that you’d been mated without your consent. You were clothed, at least, plaid pajamas wrapped your legs and you could tell you were wearing a t-shirt with the name of a state college. You reached to touch your neck, feeling the texture of a gauze. It took all your strength to sit yourself up.

You noted the way the other side of your bed looked slept in. You closed your eyes, taking a painful breath as you swung your legs over the side of the bed. In the mirror sitting on top of your dresser, you could see your own reflection. You felt like a bus had hit you, but other than the blood soaked gauze on your shoulder, your face was glowing. Your eyes were brighter, your eyelashes longer, and even your plump lips had more color.

Your phone came to mind. Your instinct was to call him though you didn’t know how’d you be able to face him once he laid eyes on the mark on your neck. You wanted to cry more but you forced yourself to wipe away your tears. He’d invaded your home, violated your body, and you couldn’t let him have one more thing over you.

Mate bonds could only be broken by death. It was him or you. When your bedroom door opened, a shirtless man appeared, his thick muscles on full display. Instead of burning red eyes, you were looking into blue ones. A sharp contrast from yesterday. His hair was long and dark with facial hair peppering his jaw. What you saw yesterday night was a man of nightmares and you almost felt … underwhelmed by the sight of him. The big, bad Alpha was actually handsome.

Go to him. You are his.

As he stepped inside the room, you backed yourself into the corner of the room. You winced at your movements, your hand rising to touch your neck. In his hands was a glass plate and you noticed the mountain of scrambled eggs, sausage links and strips of bacon. He lifted the plate, emphasizing it, as if he was saying it was meant for you.

“Don’t come closer!” You strained to yell, “Don’t.” He took a few steps before kneeling down to place the plate on the ground, sliding it closer to you.

Alpha wants to feed you. Let Alpha take care of you.

When did your wolf become so needy?

The only reaction he displayed was annoyance. There was a standoff of looks between you and you didn’t move any closer to the food like he was expecting. You slid down the wall, pulling your knees to your chest, your hand cradling your wound as it ached. You breathed heavily to keep yourself from crying.

Bucky took a seat in front of your bedroom door. If you jumped out the window, you imagined he’d chase you and there was no way you were getting past him inside. The two of you stared at each other for a solid thirty minutes before Bucky moved. He crawled over to grab the plate from the floor and you were forced to watch as he devoured all of the food.

When he finished, he stood up from his spot and left the room, “Where are you going?” You stood too, speed walking to the door, only to stop at its entrance. You watched from the door frame as he walked into your kitchen and began to scrub the plate.

You walked to your front door which was adjacent to the small living room. Through the screen door you could see your jeep still out front. Your phone was probably still inside. As soon as you opened the door, a hand reached above you to close it. His scent surrounded you, threatening to suffocate you, and deep down you felt an urge to touch his naked chest. You did but only to push him away from you. He stepped back, not because you had any effect on you, but because he seemed to be granting you the space you wanted.

You watched as he reached into his shorts, pulling out your phone and you quickly snatched it from his hands. Has he been through all of your stuff? You stepped away from him, feeling his eyes on your back, as you easily found Sam’s contact number.

“Y/N?”

“Sam, I-I..” You couldn’t stop your voice from choking up, “I’m okay, I’m alive, just a little hurt.”

“What does that mean?” Your older brother rushed out.

“Sam, don’t say anything. He’s listening,” You could feel his heart dropping to his stomach, “Remember what we talked about the last time you were here. You don’t need to send anyone after me and I don’t want you to see me like this, either. You’re prepared for this. You know the smart thing to do.”

“I’ll kill him.”

Sam rushing into battle after you would only get him killed. You hoped he’d eventually calm down and think clearly about this.

“I’m sorry,” You told him solemnly, “I love you. Goodbye.”

When you turned to look at Bucky, his arms were crossed over his chest. Sadness was replaced by pure hatred in your eyes. You didn’t care that he was an Alpha or that he’d staked his claim on you. You could still hurt him.

With all the energy you could muster, you rushed towards him, pelting him with your fists. That same annoyed look crossed his face. He didn’t even bother shielding himself, he took every hit you threw at him, and when he had enough, he yanked you up by your waist. Kicking and screaming, he brought you back to the bedroom. You’re a Beta, you should be able to at least hurt him, but every effort was futile.

Do not hurt Alpha. Alpha will take care of us.

He pinned you on the bed with your hands above your head. He straddled your legs as he carefully removed your bandage. With analytical eyes, he looked over your wound, and he did the last thing you were expecting or ready for, “Wait-”

He licked your wound.

Alpha is healing us.

You expected a sharp stinging but unbelievable pleasure spread through your body. All the pain was fading as you writhed beneath him. He was careful, cleaning you, and fast forwarding the healing process. This is what being mated was supposed to feel like yet you couldn’t accept this. Couldn’t accept him.

Your body betrayed you and just from the touch of his lips against your shoulder, you climaxed hard. You hadn’t known your body could even do that but Bucky didn’t seem to be phased by it as he looked down into your drunken daze.

The pain was gone but that didn’t make you any less frightened. The most dangerous Alpha in the country had you pinned beneath you. And he wasn’t at all finished with you, “Get off!” You begged, feeling as though he was pushing your pride lower and lower.

He moved his legs from around you and before you could try to wiggle away, he was pulling down your bottoms, “No, no, no–” He let your arms go but quickly grabbed ahold of your waist. He flipped your body over, straddling your legs again. He pushed down on your back, pressing your chest and face into the bed as he pressed himself against your ass. You could feel just how ready he was, and as he pushed your panties to the side, he’d be able to tell how much your body was ready.

“Bucky, please!” It was a desperate attempt to use his name. He marked you like you were random trash on the street, why would he care how you felt.

Bucky didn’t waste time teasing you. As soon as his member was free, he was sheathing it deep inside of you. You felt you might melt into your sheets. You were so full of him. He was so much a part of you. Destroying you. He didn’t need to hold you down, only pull your hips back against him, as he did what was natural to him. You gripped the sheets tightly, a gasp forced out your lips with each hard thrust.

The sounds that left his mouth were animalistic as he grinded his hips into you. The deeper he went, the more it hurt in the best way possible. He tortured you when he pulled himself all the way out of you only to push himself back in. You were crying again, this time from all the hormones being released inside you. You found yourself climaxing again causing your body to shake and your hips to spasm against him.

Even after he spilled into you, he groaned and thrust himself inside you a few final times. You felt you collapse if he hadn’t held onto you. He turned you on your side, keeping himself inside of you, as he collapsed behind you.

Bucky had his way with you that exact way four more times that day. It was the same way for the next week. He’d make you food and he’d enter you from behind any chance that he got. You were forced to eat eventually, the constant sex leaving you even weaker than before. You explained to him that you had to go to work or your boss might get suspicious of your absence but he seemed to already know this. How long had he been tailing you and how had you not noticed?

He drove you to work and picked you up right as your shift ended. Your boss asked about the new, mysterious man and she could hardly believe you had any sort of romantic interest. She didn’t seem to care enough to ask you any further questions and you supposed that there wasn’t anything a human could do to help you anyways.

He didn’t leave your side much when you weren’t at work and he still hadn’t spoken a word to you. He took care of you, like your wolf had promised, bathing you and cuddling you into the most peaceful sleeps of your life.

Your wolf was growing comfortable which frightened you close to death.

Sam would come eventually, whenever he formed a big enough army, and what would he think of what you were turning into. You were below an Alpha’s mate. He didn’t even look at you as he rutted into you. He was only satiating his primal desires.

One night after your shift, he didn’t lead you back into the cottage. He urged you to follow him to the tree line and you watched, stumbling back, as he shifted into his wolf form. Human you stared back at the six foot tall werewolf, and his eyes were a normal blue, telling you that he was calm. Your heart raced, your mind bringing you back to the mark on your neck, and he clearly felt your hesitancy.

Shift, you finally heard his voice. The word traveled over your skin and you could feel your wolf pushing to the front of your consciousness. It was a painful process, the snapping of your bones, causing you to cry out as you fell to your knees. Don’t fight it, you heard him again.

Bucky towered over your whimpering figure and he began to press his snout into your neck before licking your face. A sign of affection as well as a sign of dominance. Your wolf was much happier to be with him. She followed him closely as he led her, feeling comfortable enough to even try to play with him. He held his head high, his tail in the air, as you ran around him.

You traveled only a handful of miles before you reached what you knew was a camp. You stuck by Bucky as you passed a few shifted wolves. They bowed their heads as Bucky passed and moved through the camp. Large tents were set up in a circle, the middle of the camp serving as a place for food to be made, an area to socialize, a market, and stations for tools and weapons to be made. Even those in their human forms, bowed to their Alpha as we passed. Before you reached the largest tent at the end of the camp, Bucky shifted back into his human form and you soon heard the first word he’d actually spoken to you. “Shift,” He commanded, and like before, your wolf was forced to cooperate.

Instinctively, your hands moved to cover your chest as you rose from the ground. You looked around, sure you looked like a frightened puppy, as your eyes met with a few members of the pack. You weren’t exposed for long as Bucky took your wrists in his hand, dragging you into the tent. You couldn’t note any of the features inside as your eyes immediately connected with a familiar blonde. The woman who needed help with her car.

She’d clearly mellowed out, no longer having to fake her niceness. She wore a long, black sundress, her blonde hair tied in a bun, and her collarbone showed a mating mark just like yours. She approached you as Bucky walked away from you. For a moment, you were wishing he was holding you again. How was it that you were more frightened of her at that moment?

You still covered your chest, and in the corner of your eyes, you saw Bucky dressing himself. She eyes your neck marking, “That’s gnarly,” She commented. Her mark was much neater than yours, a sign that she had accepted it willingly, “How bad did it hurt?”

“Why?” Yelena knew what you meant by that. Your anger was obvious as you spoke through gritted teeth.

“Hey, it wasn’t my idea. I’d never voluntarily put suppressants in my system,” That explained why you never smelt her and that meant she knew exactly what you were the entire time she was trying to get close to you, “I still wanted to meet you though. You’re much prettier than we were both expecting. We were expecting a carbon copy of Sam Wilson but you’re quite special.”

Instinctively, you looked to Bucky who was stoic as usual. They both had been watching you. Taking multiple mates was a common practice in the old days. It was rare nowadays as our populations were growing and the negative attitudes toward female shifters had changed.

Bucky added nothing to the conversation, leaving the tent a moment later, “I’m sure you’ve noticed he’s not much of a talker. It’s always the quiet ones …” Yelena’s voice trailed off, “Let me get you something to wear.”

The dress she chose was a cream color, a contrast to hers, but you were glad to not be so vulnerable in front of her. The tent’s bed was low to the ground, covered in various quilts, and it was quite large in size. There was a bear skin rug to decorate the ground and several wooden baskets made for storage. Other than a small table that sat two, there was a wooden basin you assumed was for bathing.

“What’s his plan?” You asked, sitting a few inches from Yelena on the edge of his bed. You finally had someone to actually communicate with and you wouldn’t waste the opportunity, “For me, I mean.”

“His evil plan?” She smiled mischievously, “My guess is he’s going to force an alliance with your Alpha Sam. He’d probably do anything for you, right?”

“He wouldn’t give up everything he believes in for me,” You shook your head.

“Then he’ll die, I suppose,” You scowled at her and she raised her hands in defense, “Sorry, that was harsh. I just mean that everyone will surrender in the end, whether there’s war or not. But, don’t tell him I said this, I have a suspicion that he wants you for much more than an alliance.”

Eyebrows raised, you asked, “What do you mean?”

“He speaks your name in his sleep. I’ve noticed a few times. That’s why I was so curious to meet you.”

That could mean nothing. You hoped it meant nothing. You felt a hand on your shoulder and you were surprised you hadn’t flinched at her touch. You didn’t meet her eyes as her small fingers traveled over your scars. Although you hadn’t sensed she was a wolf when you first met, her scent still felt familiar. You realized you’d seen her on the night you were bitter. The blonde wolf, “I could feel how scared you were,” She spoke absentmindedly, “I didn’t like seeing you like that, but if there’s anything I learned these past months, is that Bucky doesn’t cause pain without a purpose.”

“Why did you choose this? To be with him?”

Your eyes closed as you felt a soft kiss on your shoulder. It was unusual, not feeling the stubble of Bucky’s beard.

“I think you’ll see soon. I can tell my soul is similar to his, like we’ve been tortured by the same things. Bucky’s not so bad, really,” Her warm breath was gentle against your skin and you wondered how someone who wasn’t your mate could have this effect on you, “And he promised me that if I let him take the lead with me, he’d let me take the lead with someone else. I know you’re fighting much of your nature, but you can let your guard down with me.’

She was a Beta like you, you weren’t meant to follow her, but she wasn’t trying to force the submission out of you. It felt like you had a choice with her, and selfishly, you wanted to feel more of that. When she leaned in to kiss you, you didn’t pull away from her, and with her hand on your cheek, you let her guide you.

Bucky never kissed your lips like this and you found yourself wanting her so bad that you kissed her until your lips were aching. You leaned back into the bed as she climbed on top of you, parting your legs with her knees. She pressed her knee towards your center, leaving you grinding against her desperately for more friction, “He fucks you like an animal, doesn’t he?” She purred, “You poor thing.”

She moved her leg in the center to your other side before she grabbed your hands. You thought she might pin them above your head but she placed them on her own hips, “He loses control with you. He wants to own you,” She pulled the ribbon from her hair, freeing it before she ran her fingers through it. All the while she was grinding her hips against you, allowing you to fully look at her, how her nipples poked through her thin dress and feel the curves of body, “I’m sure a girl like you needs a rough fucking every now and then but you want someone to make love to you, hmm?”

She held your breast in her hands, massaging them, as she skillfully moved her hips against your crotch. As her fingers tightly squeezed the most sensitive parts of your nipple, you thought you might cum from that alone, “Look at me,” She directed, snapping you from your trance, “I’ll teach you to make love, printcessa.”

She moved your hands to her bottom, encouraging you to squeeze and feel as she leaned down to resume your kissing.

“Go as slow as you want, and you don’t have to bounce. Grinding feels the best. You can control the speed and how deep you want it.” The first time you had sex was a few days ago and yet you had no idea how versatile it could be, “And let him see you. Let him gaze at you, take in all of your beauty. You’re the girl of his dreams. Don’t let him forget you’re the treasure, why else would he work so hard to have you.”

“I can’t-” You moaned as she kissed your neck.

“You can,” She whispered into her ear. She suddenly stopped her movements, leaving you high and dry, “You will.”

The camp of rogues wasn’t at all what you expected it to be. You couldn’t imagine them as the ones causing death and carnage all around the country. The people were almost friendly. Almost friendly because you were still an outsider to them and someone who was a supporter of modern pack dynamics. They followed Bucky because of his promise to bring back traditional values. They believed in him enough to kill and murder for him.

You supposed you had no right to judge their sins after you let your moment with Yelena get so heated. Now, you were stuck to her side as she showed you around, “This place is only temporary. We’ve only been here a few weeks. Bucky plans on traveling south soon.”

“And what about everything I have here?”

“You have me now. You have us,” Yelena said matter-of-factly, “Don’t tell me you dream of working your whole life.”

“I dream of having something that’s mine.”

“Hmm,” Yelena carefully connected freshly picked flowers together. The two of you sat together on a picnic bunch, a group of women having gracefully provided her with several baskets of flowers, “Well, maybe if you play house good enough with Bucky, he’ll want to stay. It seems like he was having fun with you.”

“This is fucked,” Yelena giggled at that.

“You’re telling me. Here, let me show you how to make a lei.”

You held up your hand, “I can make a leigh. We used to make them all the time for the mating ceremon–” You turned to her with wide eyes, “A mating ceremony? When?”

“Tonight,” She stated and she scooted closer as she felt you begin to panic, “All the firsts are almost done. This is the last step, I promise, and then you can find your new normal.”

With watering eyes you looked at her, “And what do I say to Sam?”

“That you’re doing your best, printcessa.”

The full moon shone above all of you, a cool breeze caressing you while the large bonfire warmed you simultaneously. There was singing all around you, the lyrics of pagan songs about the moon goddess provided sweet sounds in your ear. It calmed you almost as much as all the red win in your system.

There was a lot of dancing, even before the ceremony was to take place. Bucky sat alone on a tree stump watching as you and Yelena hopped together around the fire. Every now and again, she’d press her lips to yours, allowing you to taste the wine on her own lips.

The song was about dancing, dancing around the fire, spirits dancing, the moon goddess dancing, all under the moonlight, “Come,” Yelena suddenly grabbed your hand, dragging you around the circle and you were laughing until suddenly you were chest to chest with him. He grabbed your arms to steady you and you almost saw the hint of a grin on the evil Alpha’s lips, “My beautiful lovers. I could cry just looking at you.”

She joined you and Bucky’s hands together. The singing continued, this time a softer ballad about how the Moon Goddess gave each one of her creatures a soulmate. A lei of red flowers was placed over your head and a lei of white flowers was placed over him. A transfer of innocence. In your case, it was forcefully taken.

Everyone began to surround the two of you, red candles in each of their hands. “Alpha, take Y/N as your lawfully wedded mate. Be faithful to her in times of strife, bring children lovingly from the Goddess’s arms, and honor her for the rest of her life,” It was perfectly recited by every member, and soon, in the eyes of the Moon Goddess, the two of you were wed.

The celebrations began again and would most likely continue until the early hours of the morning. It was customary to cover the sounds of the bride and groom’s consummation. Bucky kept one of your hands in his and your other was quickly warmed again by Yelena’s as they led you back to the tent.

Bucky’s face was warm with color and you now knew that this is what he looked like when he was happy. He didn’t waste any time with you, burying his face above your scent gland, as he pulled the sleeves of your dress down. The fabric piled at your feet, leaving you completely exposed, but you weren’t frightened of it like before.

“Sit,” He told you and you slowly sat down on the bed, “Yelena.” The way he spoke her name was like dripping honey.

He did the same to her, undressing her slowly, but she had the honor of undressing him next. You watched them kiss and you couldn’t help but imagine her lips on yours, how softly possessive they were. Her hands wandered lower to his manhood, palming the large member. He grunted and he must’ve felt overwhelmed because his hand wrapped around her throat, allowing him more control.

When they finally pulled away, your legs were crossed over each other, your center beginning to ache. Bucky looked at you with so much hunger and you moved further back on the bed in an attempt to brace yourself. Yelena lingered beside the bed, taking her time to watch the two of you next.

As he crawled on top of you, you held out your hand, pressing against his chest to stop him, “Bucky, wait,” He was confused by your effort to touch him and only responded by pushing your hand away. He used all his strength to grab you by your hips and turn your body over. You gripped the sheets tightly and you could barely take in a deep breath before he was pushing into you.

His first movements were slow but deep, and you winced at every single one. You tried to keep your balance as you held yourself on all fours even as he began to pound into you. A calming hand ran across the length of your back before it began to play in your hair, “Slow, rodnoy,” She spoke to him, using a pet name in her native tongue, “You’ll break her before she has a chance to pleasure me.”

Bucky was still taking you from behind, this time slower, as she placed a kiss on your shoulder and then leaned down to kiss your cheek. She maneuvered herself in front of you, sitting as she spread her legs before you, “Kiss me here,” She told you, her voice calm and nurturing, “Touch me how you’d like to be touched.”

You did as she said, kissing her thighs and then above her sensitive center. You felt her shudder when you placed a kiss on her sensitive spot. She guided you more, telling you to make long strokes with tongue. You moaned against her, unable to control yourself, but this seemed to amuse her. She encouraged you to tease her, to slowly build things up and you tried your best despite the fact that you were orgasming. When you were finally focusing on her bulb, her legs began to shake, “Right there, don’t stop,” You tried not to change your pressure or your movement, sensing that her climax was near. She cradled your head in her hand, pressing you more into her as she grinded out her orgasm, “Mmmm, good girl.”

As she recovered, she got on her knees, lifting your body and allowing you to lean on her. Your lips met with her, her sweet flavor swirling between you. Bucky increased his pace and you held onto Yelena for support.

“Darling, let her look upon your face,” Yelena said to him gently, “Trust me.”

You thought you might collapse when he pulled out of you but Yelena was there to hold onto you. Her eyes were loving when your eyes connected again. She’d seen you at your most vulnerable but that made her like you more.

Bucky laid down on the bed, his hands caressing Yelena’s bottom but his eyes were on you. He’d be able to see all of you, truly, and that should’ve frightened you more than it did. You straddled Bucky and Yelena was the one to help guide you inside of him. It was much more intense when you were lowering yourself down at your own speed.

Bucky’s hands moved to your waist while you held onto his chest. It was almost too much, your senses felt completely invaded, but you remembered how Yelena told you that you could control your own pace.

You’re the girl of his dreams.

Yelena looked at you like you were the girl in hers. You slowly let him move in and out of you, your bulb grinding against his pelvis. The way he was looking at you, admiring your movements as much as your face and body, gave you a surge in confidence. You saw him grit his teeth and that made you move faster. You imagined the amount of pleasure he must be in and then your mind wandered to Yelena.

She noticed your worries, “Don’t worry about me. It’s your wedding night, he should be finishing inside of you,” As she said those words, Bucky suddenly grabbed her hips causing her to yelp. He forced her onto his face, grabbing ahold of her bottom and thighs as he took her into his mouth. Her yelp turned into a giggle and you found yourself smiling too.

You and Yelena orgasmed together and soon Bucky was spilling into you.

That night, the three of you were tucked in tightly to each other, Yelena laid against you and Bucky was big enough to hold you both.

One month later, you sat on top of the bathroom counter, watching curiously as Yelena brought scissors to Bucky’s hair. He was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, a pink towel wrapped around his neck that made him look silly.

“How’s it looking to you?” Yelena asked.

He looked very different but the haircut allowed for more of his face to show. In a way, it made him look less intimidating.

“I think you could go shorter.”

“No,” Bucky was quick to say. With both you and Yelena around to talk his ear off, it was no wonder that the man was learning to speak more.

“Hey, who’s the hair stylist here?” The grumpy wolf had no reaction, “I’m almost done, it won’t be too short. You have two beautiful women on your arm, you can’t look like caveman.”

A lot had changed in a month. Both Bucky and Yelena had gotten comfortable in the small cottage and Bucky’s plans to move south were delayed. Just as Sam was building his army, Bucky was doing the same. Unlike Sam, Bucky now had a real family which he was going to use to his advantage when trying to convince other packs to join him.

There wasn’t anything you could do to remove the mark on your neck. Perhaps you should’ve fought harder or laid your life down on the line. You hadn’t expected to fall for Yelena, and in turn, let her coax you into loving an unlovable man.

You worried what you would say to Sam. You didn’t want to hurt him but you didn’t want to hurt either. Things were easier when you accepted them. Hopefully he’d understand that.

“I like it,” You said to her, smiling wide.

Hopefully.

#dark!fic #dark fic #dark!bucky barnes #dark!yelena belova #bucky barnes x yelena belova #bucky barnes x reader #werewolf au #a/b/o fic #avengers a/b/o #black!reader #wilson!reader #sam wilson #Bucky Barnes #yelena belova #yelena belova x female reader #mcu smut #avengers smut #crackship #dany x drogo

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fluffyprettykitty · 2 years

Note

Selene you lovely, kind soul!! Congrats on your well earned recognition! SO glad you're celebrating, you deserve it!

I am a total simp for you so would like to request an TWS AU with my beloved VA Support Worker Sam Wilson + dark!reader (plus sized reader would make me squeal!). If you wanted you could incorporate the prompt: You're gonna beg for it, baby

I love sweet VA Sam but his life was boring before Cap. Let's complicate that a bit 😈 If this isn't speaking to you, no presh!

So happy to have met you, you make my tumblr days brighter 💖

Gonna go back to drooling

"DOMINION"

Pairing: Sam Wilson x dark! plus sized! female reader

Word Count: 1050 words

Outline: After dinner, you can't wait to feast on the beautiful man sitting across from you.

Warnings: dub/con || non/con, food mention, alcohol mention, use of drugs, pet names, daddy kink, come shot, heavy nipple play, thigh riding, love bites, multiple sex positions, face riding, sub! sam, please read the warnings carefully!

Author’s Note: Merc you sweetest girl with the most delicious mind. Thank you so much for this, I have never written dark reader before and I hope I did this story justice. This is the last drabble from my sleepover here.

Main Masterlist ・❥・ Sam Wilson Masterlist

"This tastes like heaven."

Sam proclaims as the shallows down another bite of the food you had prepared for him. It was a Friday night and you had invited him over for dinner and a movie. But you haven't decided on the movie yet. Not like there was gonna be one anyway.

Sam was dressed in a white polo shirt, his muscles visible underneath the tight fabric and he had paired it with dark jeans with a thick leather belt. You had a dress on, satin and low cut just how you liked it.

It had been two months since you two had met and the flirtatious nature of Sam and your strong and ice-cold stare is what brought you together. Although it was the first time he was visiting your home and certainly not the first time you had seen each other naked. Thank god for tinted windows and narrow streets.

"It's time for dessert sweet baby." You tell him with a wink getting up with your empty plates in your hands shaking your beautiful body and your curves as you go. Oh, you knew how much of an ass man he was. He simply could not stop staring.

In the quiet of the kitchen, you prepare the dessert making sure to drop a couple of droplets from your favorite liquid. He would never know. It was almost untraceable. And you weren't like all the other girls.

Carefully you place each plate on your sides but you finally decide to only come out with one. You could have dessert later.

"I came to feed you, daddy." Sam chuckles as he pulls his chair a little back motioning for you to sit on his meaty thigh. You do so by settling the plate on your hand and opting to scoop up the chocolate dessert with your fingers.

"Open up big boy." Sam obediently opens his mouth staring at you as you push your finger inside his mouth. He greedily licks his tongue all over your finger and you can already feel him getting excited for you.

"That's a good baby right there." You praise him as you feed him, every time pushing your finger more and more inside his mouth and watching him eagerly accept it. Oh, you had him right in the palm of your hand.

Soon enough he starts to get dizzy and long before he could even protest he collapses his face on your breasts.

He was big and heavy but you managed just fine.

A little while later he woke up, laying on your fully clothed. You had just finished dressing him up.

As he begins to rub his eyes trying to make sense of where he is, you straddle him. Wearing nothing but a black negligee very tight against your body, all of your voluptuous figure on display just for him.

"Hey, big daddy."

He bites his bottom lip as he watches you rub your bare pussy against his crotch pushing the fabric down your breasts.

"I couldn't help myself. You looked so good like that."

Sam doesn't protest, he figures it must have been the alcohol or the fact that he is tired so he rises up to pull you into a steamy kiss. His hands wrap around your back pulling you closer to him and he hungrily feasts on your lips before moving down to his neck.

Oh, he was delicious.

So clueless.

He sucks on your neck as his hands move to cup your ass and he slowly moves to your breasts. Bringing one hand the other teasing your ass line, he pushes up your right breast and possessively feasts on it. Starting from the top till he sucked on your nipple like he was trying to find his God.

You let him use your body as he wants for a bit, sneaking your hands under his shirt to drag your nails against his skin.

"I have to get inside you, baby." He mumbles against your nipple before pulling it again with his teeth.

With a strong grip on his broad chest, you begin to push him down. He lets you do it and lays back on the bed after firstly taking off his shirt and tossing it to the floor. Your lipstick stains on his nipples are still visible and you smirk to yourself. Not bad work at all.

He then moves to push his zipper down and his hands touch your inner thigh while you are pushing the negligee up and away from your body, he stares at the markings on your thigh.

"What?" He asks and his fingers trace the cum stain on your thigh, his eyebrows drawn.

"You're a very hungry boy, Sam". You scold him and toss your clothes on the floor, pushing up your body against his.

"And a really good boy, Sammy. Very pretty, very obedient. I'm very impressed with you and your beautiful cock. And I think you can learn to become even better. "

You push him down again as he is still within a mixture of shock and confusion. Maybe he is dizzy from the booze, or maybe he was on a sugar high. You straddle him better and then proceed to ride his face. Quickly moving your body to sit on his face pushing your wet pussy on top of his plump lips. Sam's hands wrap around your thighs pulling you closer.

"But you're gonna have to beg for it, baby."

The tall man ate you out twice in a row feasting on your pussy as he has never before. Like your nectar was the sweetest he could ever find. His grip on your hips was so strong that now they were covered in markings. He wanted to show you how much he could please you. How good he was.

And when you pushed yourself off him, he waited patiently for your next move. You rode his cock again and again, in every imaginable position, sucking him off between switches and warning him not to cum.

By the time you finally let him finish again he was rubbing his cock weakly against your thigh, his eyes completely shut, his mind blanking.

Maybe that was your favorite.

for updates please follow @fluffyprettykittylibrary!

#selene answers prompts #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson smut #sam wilson x female reader #sam wilson x you #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson x fem!reader #sam Wilson drabble #dark!reader #captain america x reader #captain america drabble #captain america x you #selenewrites

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urvenicebtch · 2 years

Text

Brooklyn Revengers [2]

series masterlist

-----pairing: dark!biker!gang!Bucky x dark!gang!reader

Chapter Summary: Coming to a compromise, you and the Revengers go to the site of Bucky's alleged captivity to 'reason' with the Flag Smashers

Chapter Warnings: domestic abuse, domestic violence, oral (m!recieving), manipulation, murder, use of firearms (guns), death, marking (bruising)

A/N: As I said before, the first chapter sucked and that's because I'm really bad at inciting incidents and such but now I'm starting to get onto a track(:

Friday, July 20th, 2024, 10:00

"I should go to them," you state for what feels like the hundredth time. Bucky looks at you, dumbfounded, leaning on the bar with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

"No, you’re not, no way," he says lowly, readjusting his stance and looking behind your shoulder at the men dispersed around the clubhouse. His jaw clenches in thought and a moment of silence passes between you two, layered among the unruly atmosphere throughout the single-floored building.

"Bucky, I can take care of myself-" you debate before being grabbed by the face.

"I know that," he states through his teeth, squishing your cheeks in his cold metal grab. "But there are people in this room that haven't gotten a chance to learn, yet. I'm only playing fair, Princess," he mutters condescendingly. You grab his metal wrist and throw it away from your face, letting the metal scrape your teeth through your bottom lip as you do so. He grips your wrist with an almost painful pressure and bores into your eyes sternly for a moment. A few people turn their heads to the commotion between you— nothing new— before he gives up and lets go.

The messages had been few and far in between, but still convincing nonetheless. According to the texts, Bucky had been captured by another rival gang and traded over to the Flag Smashers, with whom he was currently being held in a forest... with cell service, apparently. You had bickered with him for just short of 20 minutes over the pros and cons of running to his 'aid' with still no compromise. Your idea was that however many Flag Smashers were there could be picked off, leaving less work for you later on. It was a good plan-- had been done before.

Bucky turns, about to stomp off to wherever the hell it is he disappears to before you grab his side. Your maroon nails dig into his waist as you stare into his eyes with a death-stare, clawing him back to you. He turns his nose up and stares down at you, guessing what's going on in your head. He glances over at the men huddled around the pool table and the only working television before smirking and grabbing you by the scruff of the neck, dragging you down the hallway. Your feet struggle to keep up with his large strides as he slams the dorm door open and tosses you inside, kicking the door back shut behind him.

Honestly, you have no fucking idea how that door is still on its hinges.

Stumbling into the corner of the bed, you catch yourself on the dark wooden bed frame before heavy footsteps vibrate the floor currently digging into your knees, moving toward you. He grabs you by the hair and straightens your posture as he sits down onto the bed beside you, maneuvering you to be between his thighs.

He unbuttons his jeans— the same pair worn at least 4 days in a row— and unzips his fly, providing his fraction of a hard-on some relief before pulling his boxers down with his jeans just enough to provide you access to all you need. His part done, he sits back, resting on his elbows and watching you intently as you begin to stroke him. You swipe your thumb over his reddening tip as his cock hardens in your grasp, making him shudder. Content with his condition, you lean forward and strain to reach his dick with your mouth, just barely breathing on it. He chuckles and grabs you by the hair again, moving you out of the way as he shuffles forward a bit to be within reach of your mouth.

As soon as he releases your hair, you kiss your way up his thighs then up his shaft, leaving one soft kiss on his tip before taking him in your mouth. You close your lips around his tip and roll the bottom of your tongue along it before bobbing your head on him, taking more with each dive. You repeatedly drag your head up and down his now solid cock, tears sitting on your black-lined waterline waiting for an opportunity to drop. You gag and sputter on him as he pierces your throat with his tip, making the tears drop and leave streaks down your face. He groans deeply as you pick up the pace, bringing a hand up to the base of his shaft to help yourself out.

“Look at that pretty little face taking my cock,” he irks. Grabbing a fistful of your hair, he guides you up and down his cock, growing close.

“Shit, baby,” he whispers before squeezing his eyes shut and relaxing back down onto his elbow, keeping his grip in your hair. You ease his cock out of your mouth and start to swirl your tongue around his tip faster, stroking his shaft a few times before taking him back down your throat. You swallow him eagerly as he ruts his hips up into your jaw, making you gag. Inky tears line the creases of your face as he holds your head still, fucking down your throat. You groan onto him as he stills and spills, blocking your airway. Once he’s done, he eases himself out of your face, leaving you a coughing and groaning mess.

“Fine,” he grants, wiping the tears of eyeliner off of your face with calloused fingers before standing, pulling up his pants, and leaving the room. You knew he’d say yes, blowjob or not, but insurance is a must-have. You watch him saunter out on the floor before climbing onto the bed and beginning to recollect yourself.

Friday, July 20th, 2024, 18:40

The black nail polish on your fingers is uneven— scratched away by the fingernails of your opposite hand as you ride impatiently in the van. Your torn jeans are littered with chips of the polish, likely to stick to them in the wash. Bucky watches your hands intently from beside you, pushing them down into your lap for the 2nd time in attempts to stop you from picking the manicure.

“Stop that.” he demands.

“Oh, fuck off,” you mutter, almost subconsciously as your mind is preoccupied with how to handle the situation waiting for you just up the road. You’re not in your subconscious for much longer afterwards— a stinging red mark developing on the side of your face.

“You don’t fucking talk to me like that.” Bucky spits. You hold the side of your face to soothe the point of the slap as you tuck your other hand between your thighs, hanging your head. He fixes a stray piece of hair on the side of your face, moved by the hit, before straightening his posture and leaning his head against the back of the van, closing his eyes.

“Seriously, Buck?” Birdie asks from across the van, his hands raised in expression. Bucky shifts his position a bit before responding with his eyes still closed.

“Mind your business, Samuel,” he says, irritation and his last nerve evident in his voice. Birdie looks to you with sincere eyes and you nod once, to tell him you’re fine. He looks uncomfortable as he fixes his vest, pulling the leather tighter around himself like a mother with her shawl drinking coffee on a balcony— likely named ‘Deborah’ or ‘Ashley’.

Thankfully the ride only lasts another 10 minutes as Cap’s Marvin Gaye CD finishes its third loop. You can’t see where the van parks but it’s clear upon exit that you’re in the forest clearing the texts specified. You all part ways, going to your planned positions before the arrival of the Flag Smashers. You’d agreed to meet for 7pm sharp, but the early bird gets the worm, right?

From where you’re standing in the center of the clearing, you can’t see a single one of your members, proving that they’ve been hidden well. Luckily, the Flag Smashers had the same idea, saving you the wait. A small red Sedan pulls up into the clearing first, followed by a white van that parks behind it, from which a combined 15 or so people exit and walk toward you.

“Evening,” you greet with a small smile. Karli doesn’t return the favour, instead sharing glances to her people. The vastly diverse group of people disperses around you, circling you entirely. Your heart rate remains steady throughout and you plan to play naive for as long as possible.

“Listen, I’m just here to get Bucky, guys,” you say— your voice shaking and eyes flickering. You waver in slow circles, eyeing out the number of people surrounding you. 17 total, including Karli. You have 7 men plus yourself, so could easily take them all out at once given the contrast in experience.

“Y’know, I really didn’t take you to be this dumb,” Karli starts. Every hero needs a monologue. “We don’t have your boy-toy, Princess, but we do have a shit ton of led just for you. Isn’t that so kind? To waste all these bullets on something like you?” she drags.

You stand completely still, watching as they all grab their weapons. The second their arms extend toward you, silenced bullets hit them dead-on and, not moments later, the rest of your crew jump from their positions and rush the rest. Voices shouting “on the ground!” and “get on your knees” merge together as magazines are removed from the Smashers’ weapons and hit the rubble of the ground. Every person opposing you is either tits-up in the dirt, or held at gunpoint with their hands up on their knees.

Every person but Karli, that is. The same Karli that's currently holding her gun out at you not even 10 feet away.

“Drop it, Karli,” you demand, pointing your gun at her— barrel trained on her forehead.

“You first,” she retorts, making you sigh. “We did nothing to you! You put a microphone in our bar, what else was I supposed to do?” her voice wavers as her grip grows shaky. You step closer to her and she cocks her gun in response. She seems so fragile like this, innocent, almost. But you knew otherwise.

“God, I’m really not in the mood for this,” you complain before lowering your gun to your side.

About to hash it out with her, an outlying gunshot rings through the trees, drawing everyone’s attention. You turn back to see a Flag Smasher standing behind the van, holding a gun pointed at a now collapsing Harley. You resurface your gun and shoot blindly at the assailant, landing the shot even in your distress. He drops to the ground limp as a noodle and you turn back to Karli.

Before you get the chance, Bucky swiftly maneuvers his weapon and shoots once at Karli’s leg. The shot goes directly through the flesh of her thigh, making her drop to the gravel with a scream. Once she’s on the ground, you crouch beside her and toss her gun aside.

“You stole from us first, hon,” you spit at her before looking at her leg where she’s pressing on the bleeding muscle. “It’s a flesh wound, you’ll be fine,” you say before standing back up and stepping on her thigh. She cries out a blood-curdling scream that pangs through your ears as you begin pacing toward Harley’s bleeding body.

With one glance at the hole that goes through his chest, you know he’s done. Taking a deep breath, you rise back to your feet calmly before pointing your gun and executing every person on their knees besides Karli— her, you need alive. Satisfied, you crouch back down with a huff and lean over the young man as he coughs and sputters blood. Fixing his hair, you tuck a piece of the fluffy locks behind his ear before giving him a small smile and walking back to the van.

“Get it organized. Make it look like a foreign hit.” you order, waving your hand behind your head before climbing into the van, sitting on the edge and swinging your feet outside the door as you watch your men begin to round up the bodies and organize them in the middle of the clearing. Boot-clad feet make their way to you across the gravel in wide strides, Bucky. He stops in front of you, hovering over your seated frame as he stares down at you. You ignore him, trying your best to concentrate on the men piling bodies as he pulls your chin upward and analyzes the mark across your face. You'd noticed a couple sideways stares from the others, you always notice them. You walk out of a room or, in this case, a van, with a fresh mark across your face, a bruise forming around your wrists, or maybe both, depending on the kind of day Bucky's having, and everyone stares at you observantly before Bucky walks out and practically beats his chest like a gorilla, spooking them all away.

He pulls your chin further, making you look up at him. When your eyes meet his, you see nothing but pride beginning to swell in his chest, evident in his subtle expression. You feel vulnerable beneath him and try your best to look menacing, like you're not crumbling to pieces beneath him, but he can see through it. He always sees through it. The crease between his eyebrows deepens as his signature smirk takes over his lips, shadowed eyes beaming through yours straight into to your mind.

"What?" he taunts condescendingly, faking a pout. "All you had to do was listen, doll.". Your eyes leave his and he sighs before taking a seat next to you on the edge. You sit in silence next to him, watching the men but not focusing on them. His gaze burns into the side of your face, a stone-cold expression sealing his features as he waits for you to slip up. And, to your dismay, you do. In a matter of minutes you peek from the corner of your eye in his direction, only to get your eyes ensnared in his vision. You can't look away, watching an expression of sorrow glaze over his features as he rests his head on his hand.

"Do you love me, doll?" he asks. You do love him; no matter what he does, you'll always be right next to him, bruised or not.

"Yes." you whisper, contemplating shuffling toward him. You love him, so why wouldn't you? Hesitantly, you scoot over into his side, burying the side of your face in his baggy grey t-shirt. The smell of his cold cologne mixed with smoke, oil, and liquor soothes your nerves as your distaste dissolves into his aura. The men organize the bodies into a shape, you observe.

A crown, one fit for a princess.

Tags (just comment or send an ask!)

@cjand10 @commonintrest @deadpoolgirl23

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abbatoirablaze · 1 year

Text

Heaven's Demons, Chapter 38

Word Count: 1.8k Warnings: violence, aggression, mentions of murder, beating someone up, angst, smut, unprotected sex, threesome, f/m/m sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, poly relationship

“It’s not my issue, it’s his,” Sam grunted as he vetoed yet another thing that was put up by Butcher, the new secretary of the North Coast Charter of the Heaven’s Demons, “maybe he shouldn’t be sneaking around people’s backs…or stabbing them in em…”

“Everything he’s done has been above board, Falcon,” Fonz said simply, “Come on, man.”

“Fucking bull shit.”

“Fonz is right,” Rumlow grunted, “if you have issues with Butcher, take it downstairs where it belongs.”

“I don’t have issues with his bitch ass,” Falcon grunted, “he killed my old lady because she wanted me to walk. Just like Barber killed Fonz’ old lady.”

“And yet you’re both here,” Jefferson retorted, his thinly veiled rage at the growing anger that had been simmering for weeks finally boiling over, “so get the fuck over it, Falcon. All of us are moving on.”

��Moving on?” he growled, standing out of his seat, “moving on? Shit didn’t happen to you, outside your control, Butcher. Everything that happened, you and Barber fucking orchestrated. Cap should have taken you out back and put a bullet in your skull, not rewarded you with your position as sergeant in arms.”

“I LOST MY CHILD!”

“YOU AND BARBER GOT GEARZ HOOKED AN SENT HIM TO DO A GOD DAMN DRIVEBY TO SCARE EM INTO PLACE. YOU DID THAT! YOU DESERVE THE SHIT THAT HAPPENED TO YOU IN THAT TOWN, BUTCHER! SURPRISED AS SHIT CAP AIN'T BUT NO BULLET IN YOUR HEAD FOR FUCKIN' UP GEARZ NOW HE'S BACK TO FUCKIN SWEETIE AND HIM!”

“FUCK YOU!” Butcher growled in response, finally standing up. Both men faced each other, the heavy oak table separating them, “I WAS LOYAL. YOU WANTED TO FUCKING RUN!”

“I WAS GOING TO BREAK IT OFF WITH HER BECAUSE I KNEW I’D NEVER LEAVE, YOU FUCKING ASS,” Falcon yelled at his brother, “AND YOU FUCKING KNEW THAT.”

“You wouldn’t have told her no,” he hissed, slamming his hands on the table, “you would have run off with her like the little bitch you are. Because all little Sammy wants is someone to fucking love him.”

“SQUARE THE FUCK UP, BUTCHER!” Falcon growled as the roar of the other bikers surrounded them. Jefferson stared blankly at his brother, not wanting to fight him. After they had been broken up, upstairs, Jefferson realized the error in his words, and how much they must have hurt his brother.

But Sam jumped around, hyping himself up as he threw a few punches at the air. When Jefferson still hadn’t responded, he screamed at him, “MAN THE FUCK UP AND FACE ME YOU FUCKING PRICK!”

“I’m not fighting you, Falcon.” Jefferson looked behind himself, the thick chain link separating him and Falcon from the rest of the North Coast Charter. Steve stood at its entrance, watching the two men, “I’m not fighting him, Cap.”

“The two of you need to stop this bull shit and now. You two wanna talk shit on each other, go for it. But leave my relationships the fuck out of your mouths,” Cap growled, grabbing both men by their kuttes out of church. He’d let the two of them have their little screaming match, arguing over why the other was wrong, but it had been wearing on his nerves once they carried on. He looked to Rumlow and the VP smirked, knowing that Cap was going to lead them to his domain, “BOTH OF YOU. NOW!”

“WE SETTLE THIS IN THE CAGE!” Rumlow cheered, pounding heavily on the table as Steve led them through the clubhouse and down into elevator where the warehouse held their own little proving grounds that was an abandoned tunnel. He didn’t stop until he reached the underground, both men staring at the heavily used arena, “YOU KNOW HOW THIS GOES BOYS!”

Each of the brothers carried a torch as they lit up the tunnel, the pit where they’d made their cage littered with dried blood, glass, and other debris.

The roar of it all filled the area, the tunnel only amplifying it with its own intensity. A chill ran through Jefferson’s spine as reality set in. He knew what his president was expecting. He knew that he expected the mad hatter to come out…the butcher. But Jefferson didn’t want his screws coming loose again.

“We settle our bull shit in the cage,” Steve reminded Jefferson. His attention turned towards Falcon, “you can either beat the shit out of each other until one of you is unconscious or I’ll kill you both. I’m sick and tired of this fucking shit and it’s been weeks. I’m not putting up with it anymore so it’s going to come here to be put to rest.”

Johnny watched as two of his brothers were padlocked in. The rest of the charter members seemed to find it amusing, and Falcon launched himself at Jefferson.

“You okay, kid?”

“The fuck is this?” he asked nervously, leaning into Fonzie, “I-I didn’t sign up for this. This is-“

“It’s how Steve keeps em all in line. How he settles drama,” Fonzie replied, cutting the prospect off as Sam tackled Jefferson, and began landing punches to his face, “surprised Jefferson’s letting him win…”

Johnny raised his brow, “letting him win?”

“When he prospected, he was Cap’s sponsee,” Fonzie admitted, nodding his head to an intensely focused Steve, “he earned his nickname in that cage. He’s not the biggest of us…but Butcher is unhinged…he’s letting Falcon kick his ass, because he knows he deserves it.”

Johnny watched, and his stomach turned as he saw Falcon beat him into unconsciousness; Steve only breaking it up when Sam grabbed a rock to crush Jefferson’s skull. Rumlow tackled him to the ground and pried the rock out of his hands before he could strike the final blow, while Banner and Hawkeye carried Butcher up to get treated and cleaned up.

“That was fucked up and you know it, Steve.”

Steve frowned, sighing heavily as he looked at Sweetie. He bit his lip as he watched his former flame stalking angrily back and forth, lecturing the biker until she was blue in the face and then some.

If it were any other woman, he’d have brushed her off, or kicked her to the curb, but with her, he simply listened.

He’d been slowly working his way back into her heart, and into her and Gearz’ bed, and neither oen of them had the heart to tell him no.

He pulled off his shirt, and began stripping down, breaking her concentration, “Steve…what are you doing?”

“Going to bed… I had a really long fucking day…and I just wanted to come home to my best girl and guy” he sighed, laying back on the large bed, “What’s it look like El?”

“You’re dirty…I just washed the duvet today…”

Steve smirked, the domesticity of it all making his heart flutter, “just lemme lay down for a few…it was rough today. Then I’ll hop in the shower with Jake...”

“You can lay down, when you’ve showered,” she teased, stalking onto the bed only to push the larger biker off of it, “and like you said, Jake’s already in the shower…I’m sure he won’t mind if you joined him.”

He sat up on his elbows, “really want to trust me and Gearz in the shower alone there, Sweetie?”

“You’re not his president anymore…so I don’t think he’d be so considerate as to take it up the ass to please you…you might end up on the bottom if you tried him tonight…he’s been in a really playful mood,” she smirked from her spot on the bed, “want to try that?”

“Don’t test me…because I’ll pull you into the shower and let him fuck me while I fuck the hell out of you, Sweetie.”

“The showers not big enough for that, and you know it, Rogers…”

Steve smiled at the third in their little menage, the towel riding low on his hips. He licked his lips, “I think I might be okay with being bottom tonight…you’ve been working out since I was here last? You’re getting bigger, Jensen.”

Jake blushed, still not used to the new dynamic of their relationship and the fact that Steve was attracted to him, “I’ve been working out a little. Getting clean definitely helped.”

“You haven’t been home in nearly a month, Steve…” Sweetie teased as she began rolling around on the bed, “Jake’s been getting all kinds of buff while you were away…”

“I see that,” Steve purred, holding his hands out to the younger male, “would you like to come join your captain on the floor, sweet boy?”

Jake bit his lip and walked over only to flop onto the clean bed. Steve sat up, his brows furrowing until he came to eye level with Jake’s hardening length. He watched Jake stroking himself over the towel, “I’d rather play on the bed…but someone’s a dirty man…so he can’t come play with me…not until he’s clean.”

“Oh I can play alright,” Steve purred, already on his knees and climbing onto the bed, only to be stopped by Sweetie. He pouted, “El…come on baby. I just wa-“

“He wants to play with us, El,” Jake cooed, sitting on his knees behind Sweetie. His large hands slid around her body, and one of them went into her sleep shorts, instantly making her moan as he began to rub her bare folds. Jake leaned forward and pressed a series of kisses along her neck, while his other hand expertly pulled the cami down, exposing her chest to Steve. Her eyes fluttered closed as he rolled one of her hardening nubs between his fingers while his teeth scraped along her neck, “don’t you want our sweet man to touch us, Sweetie?”

She whimpered when Steve leaned forward, his mouth immediately latching onto her other, untouched breast. He began to suck needily, rolling the other bud between his teeth, flicking it with his tongue, while his hands went around her and pulled Jake free from his towel so that he could stroke his length.

Jake moaned against Sweetie’s neck, his hand that had been massaging one of her breasts sliding away from her only to grab Steve’s hardened length over his boxers.

“Fuck,” Steve moaned, his mouth vibrating against Sweetie’s sensitive nipple, “Jake…behind me baby…”

Jake obeyed, removing his hands, causing both Sweetie and Steve to whimper at the loss of him. Sweetie’s hands were quick to go up to Steve’s face, capturing his lips with her own, and Steve laid Sweetie down on the bed. Jake made quick work of pulling down Steve’s underwear, his large fingers laced with spit as he went to massage Steve’s ass before sliding one of the digits into Steve’s puckered ring of muscle.

“Sh-shower!” Sweetie moaned as Steve lined his own length up with her, “Steve…dir-dirty.”

“Afterwards, baby,” he purred against her as he sank his length into her. Her hands went down to his shoulders, her nails digging into them as her eyes went wide, “fuck, El…feel so good baby girl. FUCK…I-OH FUCK! JAKE!”

Jake smiled, sinking into his boyfriend, his pride going wild, knowing that he could stop Steve mid-thought by fucking him senseless. His hand’s settled on Steve’s waist as he slowly filled him; his pride going even more wild with every moan Steve released as his cock stretched Steve’s ass.

“Put a baby in me, Steve,” Sweetie moaned, losing all sense of self, “fuck…put another one in me, daddy…fuck, we make such pretty babies...i want more...”

“Don’t worry baby,” Steve purred, “by the time we’re done me and Jake will put another one in you…FUCK. Oh god. I’m never letting you two go…never letting either one of you go…fuck, JAKE! RIGHT THERE!”

Chapter 39

Tag list: @lohnes16, @elbell20-blog, @stockholmdolly, @terrormonster55, @dontbescaredtosingalong, @tenaciousperfectionunknown

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f4ngedgirl · 2 years

Text

MCU MASTERLIST🌟

⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️

Bucky Barnes

coming soon…

Sam Wilson

coming soon…

Steve Rogers

coming soon…

Wanda Maximoff

coming soon…

Vision

coming soon…

Loki Laufeyson

coming soon…

Gamora

coming soon…

Pietro Maximoff

coming soon…

Peter Parker

coming soon…

TASM!Peter Parker

coming soon…

Yelena Belova

coming soon…

Natasha Ramanoff

coming soon…

Clint Barton

coming soon…

Tony Stark

coming soon…

Thor Odison

coming soon…

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steves-sub · 10 months

Text

Submissive Sunflower

Summary: While Team Cap hides from the world, they take you in to be their permanent submissive, whether you like it or not.

Warning(s): Dark!Team Cap, MINOR DNI Smut, Non-con, Hypnosis, Dom/Sub, Drugging, Kidnapping, will add more later on.

MASTERLIST

Prologue

the Flower Shop Invite

Time for Action

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ramp-it-up · 2 years

Text

Playlist: Bucky Runs

Bucky runs CapTech. Bucky runs into you. What else can Bucky run?

Playlist: Chill, Buck

Bucky, who runs CapTech, ran into you. Now he can’t stop thinking about you even though you rejected him. Can you stop him from running through your mind?

Playlist: Fucking Bucky

Bucky’s seduction powers are on 100. Can you continue to resist him, or will you give in?

Playlist: Bucky Charms

Last night was… intense. But can Bucky reel you in for more than just sex? Or is he the one that’s going to get caught up?

Thank you @blackwidownat2814 @ysmmsy for the major heavy lifting on the playlists. Love you guys! 😘

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kaynothanks · 2 months

Text

On His Collar | B.B.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Wilson!Reader

Warnings: bucky’s one jealous boi, lil bit of violence, no smut which (for me) really is surprising, smooching, being caught

Summary: Bucky can't keep his hands off you and your brother notices

Word-Count: 12.3K

With a nervous gnawing at the inside of your cheek, you were only half-aware of your leg's relentless fidgeting. Your eyes remained affixed to the world beyond the car window, the landscape blurring as the vehicle, courtesy of Zemo's orchestration, sped on. Vague details of the city drawing closer had filtered through to you via documents and whispers; the scant knowledge of its shadowy dealings enough to stir an unsettling churn within your chest. From a distance, Madripoor was breathtaking, its myriad lights flickering through the rain's swift descent, captured momentarily on the glass before you.

This fleeting illumination conjured memories of a night several months prior, when a call in the deep, silent hours had pierced your tranquility. Urged by his voice, laced with an unspoken desperation, you hadn't hesitated. Your car had cut through the sleeping city of New York, a beacon in the dark, drawn to alleviate his turmoil. The lights of that night, though bearing a resemblance to the ones now stretched before you, held a beauty tinged with a personal touch, perhaps making them appear even more enchanting.

You released a breath tinged with anxiety, your fingers idly tracing the edge of the scant dress that, for reasons unknown, Zemo had at his disposal. The material, with its thinness and the overlay of silver glitter, chafed against your skin, a constant reminder of its presence. However, the knowledge of Zemo's opulent wealth lent you the perspective that this barely-there garment might indeed possess a value surpassing the collective worth of your entire wardrobe.

"You good?" came your brother's voice, close enough to stir the air by your ear, pulling your attention sharply towards him.

For a fleeting moment, you found yourself studying him, ensnared in your own whirlpool of anxiety. The furrow of worry etching deep between his brows sent a sharp pang through your heart. Witnessing this, a desperate plea bubbled within you, a silent yearning for him to cease his endless vigil over you—to halt his attempts at shielding you from every conceivable harm, to stop viewing you through the lens of perpetual childhood, to simply cease the worry that seemed to etch itself into his very being. The thought of being the source of such profound distress, such tangible sorrow for him, was more than you could bear. Heaven knows, the troubles you'd landed yourself in, the predicaments from which he'd extricated you time and again, were countless, far beyond what your fingers could tally.

Sam was the epitome of the brother everyone should be blessed with. From the tender years of your childhood, he had been the figure you looked up to, the beacon that guided many of the choices that had shaped your life. And in the wake of your father's passing, his protective instincts didn't just increase; they surged, enveloping you in a steadfast, unwavering care. He was your rock, your constant, in a world that seemed all too ready to shift beneath your feet. Always there, without fail.

Your decisions often found themselves at odds with his views, sparking debates that seemed as endless as they were passionate. A vivid memory that stood out was when you announced your intention to follow in his footsteps and join the Marines. What ensued was a marathon two-hour discourse, laden with reasons he believed painted a vivid picture of why the military was a mismatch for someone like you. You had absorbed every word, every concern, yet your resolve had remained unshaken. In hindsight, the wisdom woven into his admonitions might have merited deeper consideration, a realization that dawned on you with greater clarity once you found yourself deployed to the turbulent south.

It was there, amidst the chaos and the distance from home, that you began to truly comprehend the depth of Sam's anxiety for your well-being—a sentiment that became reciprocal as concern for your family gnawed at you. Sarah, battling to keep the family business afloat while nurturing two young boys in Sam's absence, became a focal point of your worries. Meanwhile, Sam's life, veiled in the secrecy of countless missions, left a chasm between your shared experiences. Often, he returned with stories he couldn't share, silences that spoke louder than words, deepening your understanding of the burdens he carried and the protective shield he tried to extend over you from miles away.

Had you heeded his words, the tapestry of your life might have been woven with different threads, perhaps even brighter hues. Imagine a reality where you had chosen to stand by Sarah's side, absorbing the tranquility of domestic life rather than the chaos of battle. In that alternate existence, your path would never have intersected with the harrowing battlefield against Thanos. Your presence in the thick of that fight was nothing short of serendipitous, a stark coincidence born from a casual visit to him just as the alarm bells of invasion clanged their ominous toll.

The details of your unexpected journey to Wakanda are shrouded in the mists of adrenaline-fueled urgency, a memory blurred at the edges by the sheer intensity of facing an extraterrestrial threat for the first time. It was an initiation by fire into a reality far removed from anything you had ever known or imagined.

Yet, amidst the whirlwind of chaos and the blur of combat, one memory stands etched with crystal clarity—the visceral sensation of teetering on the brink of oblivion. The cold brush with death is an experience that lingers, a stark reminder of mortality that paints every moment with a sharper contrast, a memory that forever shapes your understanding of life, resilience, and the fragility of existence.

You had weathered the storms of human conflict, battles steeped in the folly and hubris of mankind, but never before had you faced a legion from beyond the stars, intent on culling half of all life in the universe. In the shadow of such an unfathomable threat, your own mortality had seemed inconsequential, dwarfed by the incalculable lives teetering on the edge of annihilation. Driven by a newfound recklessness, a fiery resolve to make a difference, you had abandoned the post Sam had painstakingly chosen for you. You had forsaken safety, charging headlong towards Thanos, the architect of doom.

To him, you were but a speck, a mere human too insignificant to warrant attention, and he had dismissed you with the ease of one swatting away an irritating fly. Yet, with your firearm spent, desperation had lent you audacity. You had launched yourself onto his colossal frame, a knife clutched in your fist, the last vestige of your defiance. You were acutely aware of the invincibility that his skin professed, an armor no earthly might had pierced with lasting effect. But ambition—or perhaps the raw edge of survival—drove you to attempt the impossible: to excise one of the gleaming Infinity Stones from its gauntlet perch.

And in that breathless moment, as your blade kissed the surface of the gauntlet, Thanos's fingers curled into a fateful snap.

The universe hung in the balance, suspended on the cusp of his action and your audacious defiance. Time itself seemed to stand still, awaiting the outcome of a confrontation that had spiraled far beyond the realms of imagination.

When consciousness reclaimed you, five years had vanished into the ether, and you awoke to a world that had moved on without you. The sight that greeted you was your own veins, pulsating with an uncanny luminescence, casting a ghostly glow over the skin they webbed. Your body, once a familiar vessel, now refused the basic command to rise, leaving you sprawled and powerless on the ground. If only you had heeded Sam's directive, you mused bitterly, you might have remained untouched by this curse, spared the constant, gnawing anxiety that now made a den in your heart. Fear had become your unwelcome shadow, looming over you with endless "what ifs." The thought of unintentionally unleashing harm, of your very essence becoming a cataclysmic force capable of leveling cities, was a nightmare that played on an endless loop in your mind.

Through it all, Sam had been your anchor in the tempest, steadfast even as you spiraled into a mire of self-distrust. For three agonizing months, he had nursed you through the turmoil of accepting this altered existence, an existence marked by an estrangement from your own being. Comfort in your own skin had become a foreign concept, an elusive state that you feared might elude you indefinitely. Nowadays, every flicker of your fingers was accompanied by a torrent of anxiety, a silent battle waged between mind and heart. With each throb of your pulse, a cacophony of fears whispered the possibility of harming the one constant in your life—your brother. This new reality was a labyrinth with no visible exit, a path you tread with trepidation, haunted by the potential havoc you could wreak with a mere gesture, a thought, a slip of control.

You took a deep breath, your fingers nervously adjusting the sleek black leather gloves that now served as a barrier between your touch and the world, a precaution against the inadvertent destruction your mere contact could cause. For a fleeting moment, your gaze drifted to him, taking in the precise way his ebony locks were coifed, a style so meticulously arranged atop his head. The shortness of his hair, a detail so starkly different from before, still felt alien to your eyes. Catching his gaze already fixed on you, a silent exchange that spoke volumes, you redirected your attention back to your brother, mustering a smile tinged with awkwardness. "Of course. Stop worrying," you whispered, attempting to lace your voice with reassurance, even as your heart wrestled with its own tempest of concerns.

"I'm your big brother," he reminded you, his tone carrying a hint of playfulness as if introducing a fact that might have somehow slipped your mind. "That's my job," he added, a declaration of his unwavering role in your life.

Gotta be a real thankless job, you mused silently, the thought echoing wryly within the confines of your mind. "How haven't I fired you yet?" you quipped back, a teasing lilt in your voice as you nudged him gently with your elbow, inviting a moment of light-hearted banter between the gravity of your shared experiences.

His response was an exaggerated gasp, a playful act that drew a slight, amused smile across your face. Without missing a beat, he turned to the conspicuously silent super-soldier beside him. "Ey, Bucky," he called out, seemingly plucking his next words from thin air with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Did I tell you about that one time, when Y/n was seven and she peed—"

"Oh my god, Sam, stop!" The words flew from your lips as you reached out to silence him, your hand slapping his shoulder before trying to cover his mouth, a futile attempt to stem the flow of embarrassing tales. Your cheeks flushed with a warmth that radiated from the deep-seated embarrassment of the memory, vivid as if it had happened just yesterday, rather than years ago.

"I apologize for interrupting your camaraderie," Zemo's voice, laced with a hint of formality, cut through the air from the front seat. His eyes found yours in the rearview mirror, carrying a mix of apology and inevitability. "Unfortunately, my driver can proceed no further."

Zemo was the first to emerge from the vehicle, setting the tone for a swift exit. Sam was quick on his heels, nearly leaping from the car at the sight of Bucky preparing to disembark. The super-soldier merely rolled his eyes at the urgency, a silent testament to his annoyance, before he too followed suit, stepping into the open air.

Left alone for a brief moment, you lingered in the cocoon of the car's interior, drawing in a deep, steadying breath. The unease knotted in your stomach, a familiar harbinger of doom, seemed to grip tighter with each passing second. Yet, as you prepared to step out into the uncertain world beyond the car's confines, a flicker of hope dared to whisper through your thoughts. Perhaps, just this once, the ominous premonition that twisted your insides would prove false. Maybe, after a stretch of relentless storms, a moment of calm awaited you. With that fragile hope cradled in your chest, you ventured forth, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

Navigating the bustling streets of the city, your senses were on high alert, eyes darting left and right in a mix of wariness and awe. Every sound, every blur of movement was cataloged, an overwhelming flood of stimuli as you endeavored to absorb the essence of the place. Ahead of you, the three men moved with a purposeful stride, seemingly indifferent to the sensory overload that ensnared you. Or so it appeared, until a momentary glance to the side caught Bucky mid-observation, his head subtly angled in your direction. The instant he realized he'd been noticed, his gaze snapped forward, a silent admission of his watchfulness.

A small, knowing smile played on your lips as you continued your exploration, your attention now on the eclectic mix of individuals that populated the streets. Their attire was a vivid tapestry of the city's culture and complexity, each person a unique thread woven into the larger fabric. In this context, Zemo's insistence on changing your clothing became crystal clear. Clad in your usual cargo pants and top, you would have stood out starkly, a beacon of foreignness in this richly diverse crowd. It would have been akin to parading around with a neon sign branded "idiot," announcing your outsider status to every discerning eye. His foresight, though begrudgingly acknowledged, spared you that unwitting declaration of naivety.

In the mosaic of your life, Bucky Barnes occupied a space that was both vivid and complex, interwoven with threads of intimacy and shared secrets, away from the prying eyes of your overprotective brother, Sam. Your connection with Bucky had evolved, nurtured by the clandestine moments and deep conversations that unfolded in the quiet corners of New York's bustling cityscape.

It began with chance encounters, two souls adrift in the vastness of the city, finding solace in the understanding gaze of the other. These meetings grew in frequency and depth, transitioning from fleeting to intentional, as you both sought the comfort and understanding that seemed to elude you elsewhere. The shared experience of navigating a world that often felt too constricting, too demanding, became the foundation of your bond.

Your relationship with Bucky was a tapestry of silent understandings and whispered confidences. There were evenings spent in his modest apartment, where the glow of the city lights barely filtered through the curtains, casting the room in a soft luminescence. Here, amidst the shadows, you shared parts of yourselves that had been carefully guarded from the rest of the world. Bucky, with his guarded heart and weary eyes, found in you a kindred spirit, someone who could see beyond the Winter Soldier to the man who was still standing beneath.

These moments of vulnerability were your secret, a world built for two, where words were often unnecessary. You had memorized the layout of his apartment, the contents of each cupboard and drawer, not through any explicit intention but through the natural intimacy that comes from shared spaces and shared silences. It was in the way you could wordlessly hand him a glass of water from his kitchen without having to ask where he kept his glasses, or how the two of you could sit in comfortable silence, each lost in your own thoughts yet together.

Yet, this closeness was kept hidden, a chapter of your life unread by Sam. Not out of deceit but from a desire to protect this fragile connection from external judgments or expectations. With Sam's protective instincts, your relationship with Bucky was a delicate balance, a treasure trove of moments and memories that you both guarded fiercely.

The complexity of your relationship with Bucky was not defined by labels or expectations but by the depth of connection and mutual understanding. It was a testament to the fact that sometimes, the most profound relationships are those that exist in the spaces between words, in the comfort of silence, and in the shared experiences of two souls navigating the world side by side.

The inexplicable flutter in your heart whenever Bucky was near often left you questioning your own sanity, yet there was something undeniably captivating about the way he made you feel. The warmth that crept into your cheeks as you reminisced about a lazy afternoon spent in the park was a testament to this. It was a simple moment, really—Bucky's admission of his aversion to text messaging because he preferred the sound of your voice had somehow managed to send your heart into a delightful somersault. In that instant, you understood the unspoken pact between you two: to keep the depth of your connection hidden from your brother.

This secret camaraderie you shared with Bucky was treasured quietly, a series of moments and feelings kept just between the two of you. Bucky, too, found solace in your presence. The way you looked at him, with eyes filled with genuine affection and understanding, offered him a tranquility he had long thought was beyond his grasp. Your smile was like a beacon to him, urging him to open up about his past, his fears, and his dreams, despite the darkness that shadowed much of his history. Yet, of all the things that drew him closer, it was your laughter that he cherished most.

Your laughter wasn't restrained or demure; it was the kind that bubbled up from deep within, unfiltered and infectious. Those moments when you would laugh so heartily, throwing your head back without a care in the world, were the ones that Bucky held dear. It was in these bursts of genuine joy that he saw the lightness of being, a stark contrast to the battles and burdens he carried. Your laughter, free and unabashed, symbolized a purity of happiness that Bucky admired. It reminded him that amidst the complexities of life, there existed simple, unguarded moments of joy worth cherishing.

In the twilight of Bucky's life, where happiness seemed more a memory than a possibility, the moments he shared with you illuminated his world with an unexpected joy. Time and again, he teetered on the brink of asking you to intertwine your lives officially, to step beyond the unspoken boundaries of your secret affinity and declare it openly. Yet, each time the words perched on the edge of his tongue, ready to leap into the abyss of possibilities, the thought of Sam cast a long shadow over his resolve.

Sam, the steadfast pillar of your family, was a friend to Bucky in every sense except in name, for their camaraderie was too complex and layered for simple labels. Bucky was acutely aware of the fierce love Sam harbored for you, a protective and encompassing love that was both admirable and intimidating. He knew of the cherished photograph Sam carried in his wallet—a tangible reminder of the bond shared between you, your sister, and his beloved nephews, a snapshot of the life Sam fought so valiantly to protect.

And it was the thought of Sam, with his unwavering loyalty and brotherly love, that stayed Bucky's confession. He was painfully aware of the turmoil that would ensue should Sam discover the depth of his feelings for you. Bucky could almost feel the weight of Sam's betrayal and anger, for in his heart, he knew that his affection for you crossed lines that Sam might never forgive. This tension, this fear of fracturing the fragile truce they had built, kept Bucky silent, trapped in a limbo of longing and loyalty, where his desire to claim your heart battled with his respect for the brother who would view such a confession as the ultimate treachery.

As Zemo led the way, weaving through a throng of onlookers whose eyes darted with a mix of curiosity and caution, the air buzzed with hushed whispers that all seemed to echo the same question: "Is that the Winter Soldier?" Yet, if only they could see beyond the infamy and the scars of war, they'd find Bucky. This was the same Bucky who had once called you in a panic, deep into the night, baffled by the modern conundrum of ordering a television online. The same Bucky who shared with you his playlist of favorite songs, tunes you never expected to enjoy, yet found yourself playing on repeat. And this was the Bucky who, in an earnest attempt to teach you to dance, ended up with you standing on his feet, both of you moving in a clumsy but heartwarming harmony across the floor.

Arriving at the bar, you edged closer to Zemo and Bucky, the latter noticing your approach and subtly shifting to grant you more space. "Good evening," greeted the bartender with a nod towards Sam, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger."

The effort to suppress a grin was Herculean as the nickname filled the air. Your brother, Sam, for all his bravery and skill, was many things, but a master thespian he was not. Tonight, he was to embody Conrad Mack, or "Smiling Tiger," a persona draped in notoriety and whispered about in the darkest corners of the criminal underworld. Knowing Sam's theatrical limits, the anticipation of watching him navigate the guise of an African gangster tinged your apprehension with a thread of amusement, painting the night ahead with the promise of unforgettable moments.

"Plans have shifted," Zemo interjected smoothly, answering on behalf of Sam, who tightened his lips in an attempt at solemnity. The sight was almost comical; Sam's expression ventured into the realms of absurdity. "We have business with Selby tonight."

A cloak of skepticism draped over the bartender's demeanor, his eyes—a mix of inquiry and caution—peered from behind the substantial frames of his glasses. His visage, half-obscured by a beard, seemed out of place in this den of shadows and whispered secrets. One could easily mistake him for a tech wizard from the polished corridors of Stark Industries rather than a keeper of this clandestine establishment.

"The usual, then?" the bartender queried. Sam, lips still tightly sealed, offered a single, determined nod, his posture shifting slightly with unease. With practiced ease, the bartender turned to retrieve a jar housing a deceased equatorial spitting cobra, laying it out with a certain reverence on the cutting board before you. He wielded a knife, expertly slicing the serpent open to extract its heart. This he placed in a shot glass, to which he added a dash of Triple sec, a measure of gin, and a squeeze of finger lime, concocting a drink that teetered on the edge of the exotic and the macabre. Sliding the glass towards Sam, the air was momentarily thick with anticipation.

"Ahh," Zemo exhaled, a chuckle threatening to breach his composure. "The Smiling Tiger, your favorite." The room hung in a momentary suspense, the bizarre ritual highlighting the lengths to which one might go to blend into the shadows of this underworld.

As you reluctantly redirected your attention away from the unsavory scene, your eyes found solace in Bucky's gaze. The moment of eye contact with the super-soldier was like a silent pact, conveying volumes in the briefest exchange. “I think the next part’s worth watching.” His suggestion was delivered in a hush, his voice a soft, enticing caress against the delicate skin of your neck, sparking a cascade of warmth that pooled in the pit of your stomach. You darted a quick look around, half-expecting the assembled throng to notice this intimate exchange. Yet, their attention remained steadfastly on the notorious figure of the Winter Soldier, allowing you a sliver of privacy in the crowded space.

Turning back towards your brother, you endeavored to steady your racing heart, to cloak the fluttering butterflies that Bucky's nearness had unfurled within you. But it was akin to trying to calm a storm with whispered words; Bucky's heat enveloped you, a comforting yet unnerving presence. Then, almost imperceptibly, he edged closer, a mere shift that breached the scant distance between you. His chest hovered just shy of touching your back, a whisper of contact that electrified your senses.

Your body responded before your mind could catch up, muscles tensing, heart thundering against your ribcage as if seeking escape. The air seemed to thicken, each breath a labor through the heightened tension that his proximity wrought. The warmth from his body seeped through the fabric of your clothes, branding your skin with a heat that was both foreign and intoxicating. A shiver coursed through you, unbidden, as you fought the urge to lean back into him, to seek solace in the strength of his embrace. His presence, so close and yet so restrained, left you teetering on the edge of something profound, a precipice overlooking a maelstrom of uncharted emotions and desires.

The atmosphere in the dimly lit, cramped space was charged with an uneasy anticipation as Sam steeled himself to down the concoction before him – the alcohol mingling with the snake's heart in a display of grit and resolve. Standing beside him, you could almost taste the bile rising in your own throat at the thought, empathy for Sam's predicament tangling with your own visceral reaction. It was in this moment of vicarious revulsion that you felt it—a touch so light, so fleeting on your arm that it could have been mistaken for a trick of the air, save for the deep, intrinsic knowledge that it was Bucky. His touch, though minimal, carried with it a warmth and a reassurance that seemed to cut through the tension of the moment, grounding you.

This gentle caress, lost to anyone else's perception, was like a beacon to your heightened senses, which seemed to come alive with a fervor that only Bucky's presence could ignite. It was a silent communication, a shared moment amidst the chaos, confirming that his attention was riveted not on the grotesque spectacle unfolding with your brother but on you. And then, without need for visual confirmation, you sensed the subtle shift in his posture, the lean of his body just close enough for you to catch the light inhale as he discreetly breathed in the scent of your hair. The intimacy of the action, hidden in plain sight, had your eyelids fluttering close, teetering on the edge of surrender to the sensation.

But the moment was shattered by the intrusion of a new, deep voice, unfamiliar and brusque, pulling Bucky's gaze away from you for the first time in what felt like an eternity. The voice belonged to a tattooed biker who had sidled up beside Zemo, breaking the spell that had cocooned you and Bucky in your private world. Yet, even as Bucky's eyes momentarily flicked to the newcomer, assessing and then dismissing him as a threat, his hand lingered on your arm, a silent vow of protection and an unwillingness to completely sever the thread of connection between you.

When the biker had disappeared back into the throng of the bar's patrons, Bucky's voice, low and resonant, brushed your cheek, "A Power Broker, really?" His breath was a warm caress, a contrast to the cool air of the bar and the cold reality of their mission.

Zemo's response was a shrug, nonchalant yet laden with the weight of their precarious position within this den of intrigue and danger. "Every kingdom needs its king. Let's just pray we stay under his radar." The words were a stark reminder of the peril that shadowed their every step, yet, for a fleeting moment, the only truth that seemed to matter was the connection between you and Bucky, a silent acknowledgment of a bond that thrived even in the heart of danger.

As your brother subtly leaned in, distancing himself from the ears of the surrounding strangers, his voice carried a note of quiet inquiry, "Do you know him?" His gaze was sharp, the weight of leadership and concern pressing upon his features, a look you knew all too well.

Zemo, ever the enigmatic figure, glanced briefly over his shoulder, his gaze sweeping across the teeming masses of Madripoor's underworld. "Only by reputation," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of wariness. He continued, his tone lowering to match the gravity of his words, "He is judge, jury, and executioner in Madripoor." The way Zemo articulated the roles imbued them with a sense of dread, painting a picture of a figure wielding absolute power over life and death in this lawless land.

As Sam prepared to step back, blending once more into the crowded backdrop of the bar, his gaze inadvertently fell upon Bucky's hand, a subtle yet intimate gesture resting gently on your arm. The silent question was evident in the arch of his brow, a wordless probe into the nature of the connection he had just witnessed. Despite the many shared battles and secrets between you, this particular nuance of your relationship with Bucky remained veiled from Sam's knowledge. He knew of the camaraderie, the shared jokes, and the mutual respect; what he had yet to grasp was the depth that lay beneath those surface interactions.

Caught under the weight of your brother's scrutiny, you felt a compelling urge to divert, to shield the budding complexity of your relationship with Bucky from any further inquiry. With a practiced nonchalance, you reached for the glass that had mysteriously found its way before you—its contents unknown but suddenly invaluable as a means of distraction. The glass felt cool against your fingertips, a stark contrast to the warmth spreading through your chest, fueled by Bucky's proximity and the intensity of your brother's gaze.

Without granting Sam the acknowledgment he sought, you lifted the glass, the liquid inside catching the dim light of the bar in a fleeting dance of shadows. With a resolve born of necessity, you downed the contents in one swift motion, the liquid tracing a burning path down your throat, a physical manifestation of the turmoil swirling within. In that moment, the intricacies of your heart's desires, the silent yearnings, and the whispered dreams shared in the quiet with Bucky were drowned in the sharp bite of the drink. There was no love life to dissect, you reasoned, at least not one that could be neatly explained or openly acknowledged under the watchful eyes of your brother. This was a complexity you were not yet ready to unravel, preferring instead the sanctity of ambiguity and the solace found in the unspoken.

From the periphery of your vision, the subtle yet unmistakable shift of the crowd's focus toward your group sent a ripple of tension through the air. Zemo, breaking the mounting silence, uttered something in Russian, his voice a sharp command that instantly put Bucky, who loomed protectively behind you, on high alert. Your grasp of Russian might have been rudimentary at best, but the gravity carried by the word "attack" pierced through any language barrier, sending a shiver down your spine. Your gaze darted anxiously between Bucky and Zemo, then to the increasingly hostile encirclement of men.

In a moment driven by instinct more than thought, your hand found Bucky's arm, a silent plea for restraint, an acknowledgment of the heavy burdens he bore and the battles you wished he wouldn't have to fight again. Yet, as the hand of an adversary reached for Zemo, intent on aggression, Bucky's protective instincts overrode any hesitations. The mission's success, the preservation of your collective guise, demanded action.

With a fluidity born of countless battles, Bucky intercepted the stranger's hand, wrenching it into a grim contortion of pain before hoisting him by the collar. The air was punctuated by the thud of the man's body crashing to the ground, a clear signal to the onlookers who, rather than stepping in, recoiled to the safety of the crowd's edges. Their initial shock quickly gave way to the modern reflex of capturing chaos on their smartphones, eager to document the return of the Winter Soldier.

Another assailant lunged forward, driven either by bravado or foolishness, only to meet Bucky's calculated fury. A swift strike to the chest paired with a debilitating kick to the shin sent the man staggering, a prelude to the crushing force of Bucky's elbow against his back. But Bucky was far from done; he delivered a final, forceful kick to the assailant's stomach with such power that the man was propelled backward, colliding with another would-be attacker and sending them both sprawling to the ground.

In those tense moments, Bucky transformed the immediate vicinity into a no-man's land, a clear warning to any who still harbored thoughts of joining the fray. The message was unambiguous: the Winter Soldier, though cloaked in the guise of Bucky Barnes, remained a formidable force, his actions a blend of precision and power that left no room for doubt or defiance.

The melee unfolded with relentless ferocity, each blow landing with a chilling finality. Amidst the chaos, Zemo's unexpected touch on your waist snapped your attention sharply to him, an unwelcome distraction amidst the turmoil. His fingers were cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat of the skirmish that raged a mere breath away. Holding a shot glass, with another stationed invitingly before him on the bar's counter, Zemo seemed almost nonchalant, as if the violent ballet unfolding around you two was mere background noise.

You could only hope that Sam's gaze was entirely consumed by the spectacle of the fight, lest Zemo's audacity earn him a swift and severe reprimand—the kind that involved a painful reconfiguration of his hand's anatomy. And, should Sam's protective instincts flare up, your carefully maintained cover would be shattered in an instant.

"So," Zemo initiated casually, offering you the glass while securing his own. His demeanor was eerily calm, a man unfazed by the chaos, his curiosity piqued by personal intrigues rather than the potential dangers that lurked in your immediate vicinity. "How long have you and James been seeing each other?"

His question caught you off guard, a blunt intrusion that left you momentarily flustered. "Excuse you?" you retorted, the sharpness in your voice mirroring your surprise.

He downed his shot in one fluid motion, a satisfied exhale following the liquid's descent. "Oh," he dismissed with a nonchalant wave of his hand, a gesture that belied the keen observation behind his words. "Your brother might be wearing blinders, but I certainly do not. It's been quite evident that Barnes has scarcely glanced away from you all evening."

You found yourself grappling for a response, the unexpected scrutiny leaving you unsettled. "Well, uh," you stumbled over your words, grappling for composure. "It's just what he does—staring." Your gaze dropped to the shot glass cradled in your palm, its contents suddenly more appealing than the conversation. With a swift tilt of your hand, you emptied the glass, the liquid courage coursing through you. Instinctively, you braced yourself for whatever probing questions Zemo might pose next, bolstered now by a fleeting rush of boldness from the alcohol.

Zemo's attention subtly shifted behind you, a prelude to his hand sneaking once more to your waist. A wry smirk played at the corner of his lips as he leaned closer, his breath brushing against your ear with a whispered directive, "Get ready." Immobilized by a sudden rush of surprise, you found yourself momentarily unable to react, your mind racing to process the unwelcome proximity.

As you regained your composure, indignation fueling your resolve, your hands began to rise, intent on removing his intrusion. Yet, before you could act, a familiar and comforting warmth enveloped your back. A sharp intake of breath caught in your throat as a low, protective growl resonated from behind you, a primal sound that spoke volumes of the tension filling the air.

In the blink of an eye, Zemo's hand was forcibly removed from you, Bucky's intervention swift and silent. The warning in Bucky's eyes was unmistakable, a clear message that brooked no argument. His grip on Zemo's hand tightened, a silent demonstration of his protective instincts. The strain was evident as Zemo's face flushed, a crimson wave ascending his neck in stark contrast to his paling face, a vivid testament to the discomfort and possibly fear induced by Bucky's ironclad hold.

Observing the intensity of the moment, you placed your hand gently atop Bucky's, seeking to diffuse the tension. "It's okay," you whispered soothingly, a plea for peace. "Let him go." Your voice, though soft, carried the weight of your concern, hoping to coax Bucky back from the brink of further conflict.

With a grudging release of pressure, Bucky acquiesced to your request, albeit with a distasteful grunt. He allowed Zemo the mercy of an unbroken hand, a testament to his respect for your wishes. The moment, charged with silent confrontations and unspoken bonds, highlighted the deep connection between you and Bucky, a bond that transcended mere words, resonating with loyalty, protection, and an unyielding sense of unity.

The tension in the air was palpable, a heavy cloud that seemed to weigh down every breath, until the bartender's voice sliced through the silence with the precision of a well-honed blade. "Selby will see you now," he announced, effectively diffusing the charged atmosphere. As you were ushered down the dimly lit corridor by a group of stern-faced men, the arrangement was strategic: Zemo leading, followed by Sam, with you nestled securely in the middle, and Bucky bringing up the rear, his vigilant gaze ensuring no threat would find its way to you unnoticed.

In a fluid motion born of protective instinct, Bucky's fingers found your wrist, gently but firmly pulling you aside into the seclusion of the shadowed alcove. The dim light played across his features, casting deep shadows that sculpted his face with an intensity that was almost breathtaking. His rugged attractiveness, framed in the half-light, struck you with a force that made your heart flutter. "Are you okay?" you found yourself asking, drawn into the complexity of emotions that danced within his eyes. It was clear he was wrestling with his own turmoil, yet his proximity to you, so near that the soft flutter of your eyelashes could have brushed against his cheek, seemed to both unsettle and anchor him.

“Next time he grabs you like that—” He cut himself of, jaw clenching.

As you laid your hand against the solid warmth of his chest in a comforting gesture, a ripple of tension eased from his frame. "It's okay," your whisper broke the intimate silence between you, your gaze lifting to meet his. "I'm okay, promise. He was just trying to get under your skin."

His eyes, a mirror to his soul, roamed over your features with an intensity that felt as though he was memorizing every detail, every curve, and contour, before finally settling back into your gaze. "Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?" His voice, soft yet filled with an emotion that resonated deep within your chest, enveloped you in a warmth that went beyond the physical closeness. In that moment, amidst the shadows and whispers of danger, a connection forged in the crucible of shared experiences and unspoken understanding deepened, transcending the chaos of the world outside.

Your smile, blossoming in response to Bucky's unexpected compliment, was abruptly cut short by Zemo's call for the Winter Soldier, reverberating ominously off the walls. A mutual sigh of resignation passed between you and Bucky. With a bite to your lip, signaling the gravity of the interruption, you took a hesitant step back, murmuring, "We should go."

Bucky's response was a tight nod, the muscles along his jawline tensing visibly as he too made the difficult choice to distance himself. The atmosphere shifted palpably as you entered Selby's domain. She was ensconced regally in an armchair, her fingers drumming a slow, deliberate rhythm against its worn fabric, embodying the calm before the storm. "You should know, Baron," she began, her voice cool and measured, "people don’t just come into my bar and make demands."

Zemo, unfazed, countered with equal calmness, "Not a demand, an offer."

Selby's demeanor hinted at a mix of curiosity and caution as she observed the changes in her domain and the players within it. "A lot has changed since you were here last," she remarked, her gaze sliding over Bucky with undisguised interest. "By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?"

Zemo, settling himself before Selby with a nonchalance born of confidence, merely shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "People like us always find a way, don’t we? I'm sure you've already figured out what I am here for."

Selby, her attention never straying from Zemo, extended a languid finger toward your brother, her voice taking on a teasing, almost flirtatious tone. "You're taller than I'd heard, Smiling Tiger," she purred, her grin sharp as a knife's edge, before shifting her focus back to Zemo. "What's the offer?"

"Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum." Zemo's command hung in the air, heavy with implication. He rose, his movements deliberate, as he made his way to where Bucky and you stood in a silent vigil. The audacity of his next offer sliced through the tension like a cold blade. "And I give you him," Zemo gestured towards Bucky with a chilling casualness, "along with the code words that control him, of course." His fingers dared to trace a path along Bucky's jawline, a presumptuous gesture that hinted at possession. "He will do anything you want." You moved your hand to brush against his, blocking the view with your body, not wanting your cover to blow, also not wanting Bucky to blow up because of the over-the-top trade Zemo was talking about, which he hadn’t disclosed with you "Now, that’s the Zemo I remember," Selby's voice curled with a mix of admiration and threat, her lips twisting into a grin that was as dangerous as it was pleased. "I'm glad I decided not to kill you immediately." She mused aloud, nodding to herself as if affirming her own wisdom. "Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right." Zemo, with a nod acknowledging the compliment veiled as a critique, moved back to his chair, rejoining the precarious dance of conversation.

"The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor," Selby continued, her revelation hanging in the smoky air like a veiled threat. "Doctor Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank, or…" Her voice trailed off as she tilted her head, her gaze sharp, "Or condemn, depending on what side you're on."

"Is Nagel still in Madripoor?" Zemo's question cut through the tension, his inquiry pointed and loaded with unspoken implications.

Selby stood, her movement fluid as a shadow, drifting behind Zemo. She was about to divulge the answer, a secret that could tip the scales, when the moment was shattered by the unexpected vibration of a cell phone. Sam's cell phone, ingeniously hidden within the confines of your bra, the only place deemed secure given the impracticality of the suit's tiny pockets. The room froze, a tableau of anticipation and dread, as all eyes darted towards you. The vibration continued, a silent herald of impending chaos, until, with a steadiness you hardly felt, you retrieved the phone. The caller ID flashed "Mom jr." — a code name for your older sister, Sarah, that now felt like a harbinger of disaster.

"Go on," Selby's voice was a command laced with curiosity and a hint of menace, her henchman already looming ominously behind her. "Answer it. On speaker."

With a nod, terse and devoid of any option but compliance, you swiped the screen, the green circle heralding a connection fraught with risk. Clearing your throat, an attempt to mask the torrent of nerves, you answered with a voice feigning confidence, "Smiling Tiger."

"...Okay." The brief silence that followed was thick with confusion, Sarah's voice betraying her bewilderment. "Why do you have his phone? Is he there?"

"Uh, yeah, yes, he is."

"Could I speak to him? It's urgent."

"Sure." You navigated the tense atmosphere with caution, aware of the danger that lurked in every corner. Approaching Sam, you offered the phone with a discreet, "Sir."

Sam accepted the phone, his throat clearing a precursor to the conversation. "Hello?"

"Hey, uhm, we need to talk about this situation. It's been driving me nuts."

"What situation are you talking about exactly?"

"Are you high? You know the situation. It’s the only situation me and you have."

"What situation, Sarah? Say it."

"The damn boat. And watch your tone, okay? I let you slide at the bank."

Sam's scoff was almost audible, a mixture of disbelief and humor. "The bank, yeah. Laundered so much money," he chuckled. "Yeah, they'll come around."

"If that’s the case, then why'd they dog you out, Big Time?"

"Yeah, you damn right I'm Big Time. You'll see when I have that banker killed." Your gaze flickered to Bucky, dreading the potential fallout from this precarious bluff.

"Cass! What did I tell you about the Cheerios? I don’t have time for this!" Sarah's exasperated outburst was unexpected, yet somehow, it underscored the normalcy of life's chaos — even when worlds apart, Cheerios could cause turmoil. "Sam, I'm sorry, let me call you back."

"Sam?" Selby's voice, sharp with suspicion, cut through the room. "Who's Sam?" Her eyes scanned the room, landing on one of her men as she gave the lethal order, "Kill them!" No sooner had the command left her lips than a bullet from an unseen sniper found its mark, sailing through the window to claim Selby's life with unerring precision.

As Selby's men, jolted by the sudden turn of events, scrambled to retaliate, the trio leapt into action, their movements a blend of desperation and determination, ready to confront the chaos unleashed by a single, ill-timed phone call.

Sam's movements were swift and precise, his elbow connecting with the gut of the assailant beside him with a force that spoke of urgency and desperation. In a fluid motion, he seized the man's weapon, leveraging his strength to send his adversary crumbling to the floor. Nearby, Bucky confronted another threat, an opponent armed with an automatic firearm. The bullets, however, were no match for Bucky's metallic arm. With an almost serene calmness, he raised his arm, the bullets ricocheting off the vibranium and falling harmlessly to the ground, their lethal intent nullified. With a swift, decisive movement, Bucky disarmed the gunman, the heavy thud of the weapon striking the assailant's head a grim punctuation to the confrontation.

Zemo, meanwhile, exhibited a different kind of strategy. He glided to the side, a ballet of avoidance, demonstrating a preference to remain on the fringes of the physical altercation. His demeanor suggested disinterest, a calculated decision to avoid the fray, yet you knew the truth. Zemo possessed skills honed by experience, a dangerous combatant by any measure, choosing discretion over engagement.

As for yourself, standing on the precipice of engagement, you too could have dismantled any adversary with ease, mirroring Zemo's restraint. Yet, it wasn't the fear of the fight that stilled your hand, nor the dread of physical harm. It was a deeper, more insidious kind of fear that gnawed at your resolve — the fear of responsibility. Sam had seen the toll it took on you, the anxiety that came with wielding your powers. He reassured you, time and again, that it was okay to hold back, understanding the weight that came with such immense power.

You had mastered control over your abilities, a feat that was as much for those around you as it was for your peace of mind. But control was a fragile thing, a constant battle against the possibility of a catastrophic slip. The echoes of the past haunted you, a stark reminder of the chaos unleashed during the battle against Thanos. The risk you had posed to your brother's life was a memory etched in the recesses of your mind, a harrowing reminder of the potential consequences of your powers. The burden of that day weighed heavily on your shoulders, a silent vow to never relive that helplessness, that guilt, again. Control could temper the power, but it could never erase the memories, the fears, or the haunting possibility of what could happen should it ever falter.

The moment unfolded before you with a surreal clarity, as if time itself had bent to accommodate the gravity of what was about to transpire. There stood Stephen Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme, his figure exuding an aura of solemnity. With a hand stretched towards you, his voice cut through the chaos of your thoughts, delivering the harrowing message that Thanos was on the precipice of ushering in another war.

The ground beneath you felt unsteady, as if it too, shared in your tumult of emotions. Your body was a tempest of sensations, akin to being engulfed in invisible flames, an internal inferno that threatened to consume your very essence. Your hands, held out in front of you, became the focal point of your bewildered gaze. They glowed with an ethereal green luminescence, transforming your eyes into beacons of an otherworldly force. In that moment, you were a stranger even to yourself, your identity obscured by the overwhelming power that surged within you. You feared that even your brother, upon witnessing this transformation, would find himself staring at an unfamiliar figure, your familiar visage masked by an alien force.

It was during this maelstrom of confusion and fear that Stephen Strange recognized the tumultuous energy you were channeling. With a wisdom borne of his experiences with the mystic arts, he extended not just his hand but an offer of guidance and mastery over the forces that now threatened to unravel you.

Amidst this turmoil, a familiar voice pierced the veil of your disorientation. Bucky's voice, imbued with urgency and concern, reached out to you, grounding you back to reality. "We gotta go." His words, simple yet laden with an unspoken promise of safety, beckoned you. As your gaze snapped towards him, you were met with the sight of his outstretched hand, a lifeline in the chaos.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, you placed your palm against his, the warmth of his grip a stark contrast to the cold uncertainty that had gripped your heart. Led by Bucky, you began to make your way out of the building, each step away from the epicenter of your crisis a step towards reclaiming the self that had been momentarily lost in the eye of the storm.

As Zemo's directive to abandon their firearms behind echoed in your mind, a profound vulnerability washed over you, intensifying the uncertainty that already clouded your heart. The decision to venture into the unknown without the familiar weight of a weapon at your side left you feeling starkly exposed, each step on the pavement echoing your apprehension.

Amidst the chaos, the glow of countless phone screens caught your attention, their omnipresence a stark reminder of the digital eyes that followed your every move. Your grip on Bucky's hand tightened, a help in centering you amidst the swirling uncertainty, your fingers intertwined with his in a silent plea for reassurance. Bucky, feeling the tremor of your grasp, was confronted with an overwhelming pressure in his chest—a sensation so intense, it seemed as though his heart might shatter through his ribcage. The logical part of his mind suggested that releasing your trembling hand might alleviate some of his distress, disconnecting him from the tangible evidence of your fear. Yet, the thought of pulling you even closer overpowered him, a testament to the protective instinct that surged within him, despite the presence of his partner in crime at his side, equally eager to escape the impending peril and shield you from harm.

Out of the corner of your eye, a figure detached from the crowd caught your attention—a woman, standing apart with her hands mimicking the shape of a gun, playfully ‘shooting’ at your group. This macabre pantomime, juxtaposed against the sea of illuminated screens, shed light on the grim realization that you and your companions had been reduced to mere targets in a deadly game, surrounded by a multitude of unseen adversaries, each one thirsting for blood and the lure of a reward.

In the fraction of a second before you could advance another step, the air was pierced by the unmistakable sound of gunfire. An instinctive fear gripped you, catalyzing a reaction that tore you away from Bucky's grasp. You spun around, just as a barrage of bullets threatened to engulf your group in a lethal storm. Driven by a deep-seated impulse to protect, you extended your hands, your eyes instinctively closing as you tapped into a wellspring of power that had lain dormant within you for far too long. The air around you charged with anticipation, as if the very essence of your being had awakened to confront the danger head-on.

Upon daring to open your eyes, fearing the aftermath of your instinctual reaction, you were confronted with a surreal tableau: bullets suspended mid-air, frozen in time and space, an arm's length away, creating an eerie stillness in the midst of chaos. The sheer number of projectiles, hovering ominously close, sent a shiver down your spine, yet it was the sight of your own fingers, aglow with a radiant green luminance, that truly captivated you. It was a strange juxtaposition—how could something so ethereally beautiful harbor the potential for immense destruction?

Your fascination gave way to action as you turned your palm, the bullets beginning to dissolve into nothingness, disintegrating into a fine mist just before reaching your skin. The urgency to locate your assailant led your eyes to a figure, scant meters away, wielding a machine gun braced against a makeshift stand in the bustling market. With a focused gesture, you manipulated the now-liquefied metal, directing it with lethal precision towards the gunman. He recoiled, anticipating pain or perhaps even death, but instead, you targeted his weapon. The metal swarm enveloped the gun, rendering it inoperable, parts of its mechanism dissolving into oblivion.

The surrounding crowd, momentarily taken aback by the display of power, quickly regrouped, their initial shock transforming into twisted smiles as they once again raised their weapons. It was then that your brother intervened, his hand clasping yours with determined strength, pulling you back into the frenetic escape. The concept of a leisurely retreat was a luxury far removed from reality as you both dashed through the dense throngs of Madripoor, a city now teeming with adversaries drawn by the allure of a bounty. The streets, alive with danger, became a labyrinth as you navigated through the relentless pursuit, the weight of potential violence pressing against you from all sides.

“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam's grumble about his unsuitable footwear for their frenzied escape almost halted you in your tracks, the urge to chastise him for his complaint bubbling up fiercely.

"I'm wearing six-inch heels, you idiot!" you retorted, your voice slicing through the tension as you were half-dragged, half-ran, your form almost seeming to bounce off the pavement with each step.

Just then, the distinct growl of motorbikes escalated behind you, a clear sign that your pursuers were closing in with alarming speed. Instinctively, you twisted around, freeing one arm from your brother's firm grasp. A brilliant emerald glow enveloped your hand as you unleashed a force resembling a sonic boom towards your chasers. Glancing back, you witnessed the bikers caught in a surreal slow-motion, ensnared within the temporal anomaly you'd unwittingly summoned.

The urgency of your flight tapered off as your brother gradually decelerated, releasing your hand to take in the quietude that had enveloped the scene. Zemo, ever the observer, couldn't hide his admiration, stepping closer with a sly grin. "Quite impressive, if I may say so myself."

“You may not.” His commendation was met with a mutter from Bucky, barely audible yet brimming with protectiveness. Bucky positioned himself squarely between you and Zemo, effectively shielding you from the latter's view. Sam, meanwhile, appeared utterly bemused, hands perched on his hips as he oscillated his gaze between you and Bucky, bewildered by the sudden shift in dynamics.

"Okay, what—?" Sam began, only to be cut off as the moment teetered on the brink of unraveling.

"Well, isn’t this just perfect," a voice chimed from the enveloping shadows, laced with a mix of amusement and disbelief. Emerging into the dim light, a blonde woman approached with her gun poised, her stance radiating confidence and danger. Recognition flickered through your mind, delayed by the surreal context. Sharon Carter, the name finally clicked, associated with tales of Steve Rogers and his erstwhile entanglements. Sam's anecdotes, usually shared with a mix of reverence and jest, painted her in the light of a past fraught with complex allegiances, especially during the so-called Civil War—a term you found overly dramatic for what essentially amounted to a highly publicized skirmish among comrades at an airport.

"Sharon?" Bucky's voice cut through your thoughts, tinged with a blend of surprise and uncertainty. The Sharon Carter you'd heard of through scattered stories seemed far removed from the woman who now stood before you, gun in hand, in the underbelly of Madripoor. It was a reflection, perhaps, of how life's unpredictable currents could sweep anyone into unforeseen harbors.

Her gaze, sharp and unyielding, locked onto Zemo, the intensity of her scorn palpable. "You cost me everything," she accused, the words heavy with resentment. Sam attempted to interject, offering explanations that seemed to dissipate before they could reach her, lost in the void of her grievance. "I stole Steve's shield, remember?" she reminded, her resolve steel-hard, the weapon unwavering in her grasp. "I also took the wings for your ass," she directed at Sam, causing a ripple of tension to pass through you. The mention of sacrifices made—her actions for their benefit—underscored the gravity of her fall from grace. Her focus shifted momentarily to Bucky, implicating him in the web of consequences, before returning to Zemo with a disdainful flick. Finally, her eyes found you, registering your presence with a flicker of surprise. "No idea who you are," she stated, an admission that underscored the complexity of alliances and identities in this shadowy world.

With a determined stride, Bucky advanced towards Sharon, his every step a testament to his intent to defuse the tension that crackled in the air. He engaged her with words, his tone both pleading and firm, navigating through the storm of her fury. Eventually, her grip on the gun loosened, the weapon tucked away after an exasperated sigh, a silent concession to his efforts. Sharon then proposed an unexpected truce, inviting you all back to her sanctuary. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on you; moments before, the cold metal of her gun had promised anything but hospitality.

Crossing the threshold into Sharon's abode, you were immediately struck by an array of art that adorned every wall and surface. The collection was staggering, a visual feast of masterpieces that seemed too authentic, too valuable to be merely decorative. You half-joked to yourself about the possibility of the Mona Lisa being tucked away in a corner, marveling at the fortune that surrounded you, captured in oil and canvas.

The offer of a change of attire came next, with Sharon presenting an array of elegant garments that seemed to glide into the room on a valet rod. The promise of shedding your current attire, particularly the torturous heels that had been your nemesis throughout the evening, was a relief. Barefoot, you approached the selection with eagerness, only to have your enthusiasm dimmed by the realization that the options available were far removed from your comfort zone. Accustomed to the simple reliability of sneakers and boots, the sight of such finery felt daunting, alien.

Facing Sharon, a hint of disappointment lacing your expression, you ventured a request, hoping for something more aligned with your sense of style. "Don't you have anything less... that?" The words hung between you, a polite plea for normalcy amidst the opulence that defined her world.

"Like what?" Sharon's question cut through the tension in the room, her gaze drifting momentarily over Bucky and his shirtless state alongside Zemo. The moment made your skin crawl slightly, an unwelcome distraction in the midst of the unfolding scenario.

"Jeans?" you ventured hopefully, trying to steer the conversation back to a more comfortable topic, despite the circumstances.

"We are going to a club in Madripoor," Sharon pointed out, as if the venue demanded a specific dress code that was far from your preference.

"Yes?" you responded, not fully grasping why your suggested attire wouldn't be suitable, your tone a mixture of confusion and mild annoyance.

After a brief pause, during which Sharon seemed to consider her response, she chose to bypass your suggestion entirely, moving past you as if you had become part of the room's extravagant background. Your frustration evident, you rolled your eyes at her dismissive attitude and turned back to the daunting task of selecting an outfit from the array provided. Among the lavish options, you managed to find flared leather leggings and a high-neck crop top with a singular sleeve—a rebellious choice that echoed your own style while avoiding the discomfort of another glitter-infested dress. As you began the awkward dance of changing into the leather pants without first removing your current dress, a subtle commotion caught your attention.

Bucky, ever the protector, had taken it upon himself to ensure your privacy. His large hand found Zemo's neck, not harshly but with enough insistence to pivot the man's attention away from you. However, it wasn't just Zemo's attention he was diverting; his own gaze, filled with an intensity you couldn't quite decipher, kept flickering back to you. Each look seemed to linger a moment too long, filled with an emotion he seemed to struggle to define, let alone express. With a visible effort, Bucky tore his gaze away, a stern resolve setting in as he forced himself to focus on anything but you.

Your brother went to lift his whiskey glass off the table when he spotted what was inside of it. A shiver ran down his as he fished out the little snake part and stood to throw it out the window. The expression on his face made you throw your head back laughing. He raised his brow at you in question. You lifted your hands. "I didn’t do it."

"Then why are you laughing?"

"Because whoever did, is a genius." You were about to pull the top over your head when Sam pinched you in the side. "Ow, what the hell, Sam!" With furrowed brows, and the tight top stuck on your shoulders, you tried to kick him in the shin, though he moved back just in time; a broad grin rested on his face. "Too slow, sista," Sam teased, his playful nudge against your head causing your already precarious balance to falter further. With a grunt of mock indignation, you surged forward, aiming a determined chest-bump at your brother, eager to see him mirror your momentary imbalance. Your efforts were rewarded with a triumphant laugh as Sam was forced to step back, the shared moment of childish glee lighting up your features with a wide grin. This brief interlude of sibling rivalry whisked you back to those carefree days of your youth, where even the simplest acts of brotherly teasing felt like the grandest adventures. Back then, Sam could do no wrong in your eyes, the epitome of an older brother in the most magnificent form.

In the midst of your playful scuffle, you were secretly relieved that Sharon had exited the room. Her presence might have added a layer of self-consciousness to the innocent chaos. Although the antics might seem juvenile to an outsider, to you, they were a rare slice of normalcy—a cherished reminder of a life untouched by cosmic wars or Thanos' dread shadow.

As Sam busied himself with selecting an outfit, your struggle with the unyielding fabric of your top grew increasingly frustrating. The material, devoid of any give, clung stubbornly in all the wrong places. With your back to Bucky, a soft sigh of exasperation escaped you. "Buck?" The quiet call for assistance was barely above a whisper, yet it summoned his attention instantly.

"Need a hand?" His voice was close, filled with a gentle concern that made your heart flutter slightly.

"Yes, please," came your subdued reply, the momentary vulnerability feeling strangely intimate. Then, you felt it—his touch. The slight graze of Bucky's skin against yours as his fingers traced a path up your side, his touch delicate yet assured. He navigated the fabric with a tender precision, his fingers briefly pausing at the edge of your top before guiding it smoothly into place. The fleeting caress that followed lingered just long enough to ignite a shiver of anticipation, a warmth blossoming within you that craved the closeness of his embrace. His breath, a warm whisper against the nape of your neck, sent a thrilling chill down your spine.

"You look beautiful," he murmured, the compliment hanging in the air between you, charged with an unspoken emotion that seemed to draw you even closer, tethering your heart to his with an invisible thread of affection and longing.

"I absolutely agree," Zemo's voice cut through the tension, drawing an involuntary growl of annoyance from Bucky. With a gesture of mock surrender, Zemo backed away, his steps carrying him to the bar where three glasses of whiskey awaited their silent call to be savored. Bucky, feeling the palpable shift in the room's dynamics, reluctantly distanced himself from you, his departure leaving a subtle chill in the wake of his warmth. He reclaimed his seat on the sofa, a move you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment over.

Sharon chose that moment to grace the room with her presence, her arrival marked by the lively bounce of her blonde waves. She exuded a casual confidence, her tone light, yet probing. "So," she hummed, curiosity lacing her words, "How's the new Cap doing?"

Before Sam had the chance to form a response, Bucky's voice, laced with a mixture of disdain and resignation, filled the room. "Don’t get me started." His hands found each other, intertwining in an awkward dance as his gaze inadvertently met yours. Even in the simplicity of his all-black ensemble, accentuated by a blazer that lent an air of sophistication, Bucky looked effortlessly handsome, commanding the space around him with an understated elegance.

Sharon, undeterred by the tense atmosphere, pressed on, her voice tinged with sarcasm. "Oh, please. You buy into all that stars and striped bullshit." Her pointed gaze shifted to Zemo. "Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr. America! Cap's best friend." With a fluid motion, she sank into the space beside Bucky, a deliberate bite of her lip following her words.

The action did not go unnoticed, drawing a frown from you, a silent testament to the unfolding dynamics. Bucky, catching Sam's eye, shared a moment of mutual understanding, tinged with a hint of disbelief. "Wow," he uttered, the word heavy with implication. "She's kind of awful now." His observation, though softly spoken, resonated with a mix of humor and a poignant undercurrent of nostalgia for times and alliances past.

As you momentarily extracted yourself from the animated discussion unfurling within the living room, your attention was ensnared by the relentless buzzing of your phone, a beacon of unchecked notifications. A myriad of messages from your sister painted your screen, a digital mosaic of concern and updates. "I'll be right back," you announced, your voice threading through the dense air of conversation that was currently monopolized by debates over the Flag Smashers. The name itself, a moniker you found both laughably juvenile and misleadingly innocuous, echoed in your thoughts as you distanced yourself from the discourse, finding solace in the quietude of the hallway.

Leaning against the cool, indifferent wall, you began the arduous task of sifting through the digital deluge, your fingers scrolling with practiced ease. It was then, amidst the solitude of your temporary retreat, that the ambiance subtly shifted, heralding the approach of another. The door opened with a hushed creak, and there he was—Bucky, his presence alone commanding your undivided attention.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice a gentle intrusion, as he navigated the space around you to claim his own against the wall opposite. His casual demeanor belied the concern etched into the furrows of his brow.

"Hey," you echoed, a mirror of his own greeting, yet laden with an unspoken acknowledgment of the weight he carried in his gaze.

"You alright?" His inquiry was simple, yet laden with layers of unvoiced thoughts and concerns. There was a palpable hesitation in his words, a reluctance to tread upon the terrain of your powers—a subject he knew stirred a tempest of emotions within you. “You used your powers.”

"I did," came your affirmation, your response punctuated with a grin that sought to mask the undercurrent of apprehension that had long shadowed your relationship with your own abilities. "I'm alright, though, really." Your attempt to reassure him—and perhaps yourself—was sincere. "It felt weirdly freeing to use them. To see how well I can actually keep control. They are still kind of scary, though."

As the words tumbled from your lips, Bucky bridged the gap between you, each step he took charged with an unspoken intensity. Suddenly, the world seemed to narrow down to the space that separated you, every detail of his approach etched into your memory—the way the light danced in his eyes, the barely perceptible tension in his jaw, the silent communication of his body language that spoke volumes of his concern and his undeniable pull towards you.

The proximity between you dwindled to a mere breath, a distance so trivial yet laden with a myriad of unspoken possibilities. The air around you thickened, charged with a palpable tension that sent your heart racing, your breaths shallow. The notion of closing the distance, of yielding to the gravitational pull that seemed to draw you inexorably towards him, flickered through your mind like a tantalizing promise. It was an effort to maintain your composure, to anchor yourself to the moment without succumbing to the overwhelming urge to bridge the final vestiges of space with a kiss that threatened to unravel both of you.

Pressed against the cool, unyielding surface of the wall, the intensity of the moment had magnified as Bucky's hands found their way to your waist, his grip tightening with a hunger that sent waves of anticipation coursing through your veins. His large, calloused hands, battle-hardened yet gentle, conveyed a sense of urgency as they dug into your flesh, pulling you impossibly closer into his embrace. The strength in his touch was paradoxically comforting, each finger imprinting a promise of protection and desire onto your skin.

The world around you had faded into a distant murmur, his presence engulfing you, drowning out everything else. Bucky's body molded against yours, his chest to your chest, his hips locked with yours in a dance as old as time. The pressure of his hands on your waist was both a claim and a caress, a testament to the depth of his longing. It was as if he was trying to merge two separate existences into one, to erase any space that still lingered between you.

As his lips moved with a tender ferocity against yours, you could feel the raw power of his emotions, restrained yet palpable. The sensation of being wholly desired, of being pulled into someone's orbit with such intensity, was both exhilarating and terrifying. His touch spoke volumes, whispered of need and want that had been simmering beneath the surface, now unleashed in the privacy of this shared moment.

The hunger in his grasp was matched only by the passion of your response, your own hands exploring the expanse of his back, tracing the lines of muscle and scars that told the story of his past. Together, you were adrift in a sea of heightened sensations, every caress, every kiss, every breath amplifying the connection that had been quietly growing between you. In that moment, with Bucky's hands anchoring you to him, you weren't just touching; you were speaking a language of longing, of mutual understanding and unspoken promises made in the quietude of hearts beating in unison.

A voice unexpectedly cut through the thick haze of the moment shared between you and Bucky. The abrupt sound of Sam’s voice, laced with surprise and a hint of disbelief, acted like a cold splash of reality.

“Someone care to explain what’s going on here?” he demanded, his tone piercing the bubble that had enveloped you and Bucky. The shock of being discovered, especially by your brother, sent a jolt through you, compelling you to break the kiss.

Oh, no.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes series #bucky x you #winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier

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myfictionaldreams · 1 year

Text

Don’t Fall Asleep // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was supposed to be a normal day, but not in fate's eyes as you and Sam are hit by a drunk driver. How will Steve and Bucky react when they hear their girls been hurt?

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst (LOTS), Fluff, car crash, blood and injury, crying, anxiety, hurt/comfort, recovery, domestic bliss, teasing, praise kink, daddy kink, fingering, multiple orgasms, nipple play

Words: 5.1k

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Life is precious, something that many take for granted. On occasions, phrases such as ‘live life to the fullest or ‘you could die tomorrow, take the opportunities as they come’ are often quoted but then disregarded. Every person who is living, has ever lived and will ever live; will experience the positives to living, the happiness that swells in their chest but then the balance to this, that makes living so tumultuous was the sadness and darkness that could destroy lives in a blink of an eye.

You, for one, were thankful for all of the time that you’d been able to share with Steve and Bucky. They’d changed your life to an unimaginable level, having never experienced true love, protection and simplicity until being in their areas. But of course, happiness can only last for so long, too many opportunities for near misses within the mafia that your luck was bound to run out at some point.

The real kick in the teeth was that this darkened day in your life was even centred around the gang and its criminal activities. In fact, it had been a rather plain day for you, starting the same as any other, Steve and Bucky attending the office to make sure everything was running smoothly and you’d planned to run some errands with Sam Wilson, your friend and bodyguard.

So far, you’d been food shopping, collected a couple of parcels and now were on your way to the art shop to pick up a few supplies for Steve who liked to draw in his spare time.

Sam was driving the two of you, rolling his eyes playfully as you flicked through the radio channels, not finding any satisfaction with what was being played and being too lazy to connect your phone to the bluetooth.

“Oh, I love that song!” Sam gasped, brushing your hand out of the way and switching to the channel you’d just casually skipped past. You laughed at his excitement, happy to also listen to the song if it made Sam happy which by his exaggerated singing, he was definitely enjoying it.

The roads around you weren’t excessively busy, thankfully the football was on so the majority of people were inside a bar and watching that. It was just a perfectly mundane, normal day but life always liked to test your limits when you least expected it.

The initial impact was something you wouldn’t ever remember, as a drunk driver smashed into your side of the car, causing it to flip several times before landing upside down. You’d been knocked out for a couple of minutes, only just waking up as Sam’s urgent shouts made it through the buzzing in your ears, your entire body felt lifeless and drained as he was able to undo your buckle and pull you a safe distance away. The drunk driver who had crashed into you had died on impact.

It was as the sirens blared in the distance, did you begin to feel the wetness and warmth starting from your head and moving down various parts of your body but you were completely dazed to understand that you’d sustained a head injury, your right wrist and leg broken and pointing in the wrong angles and a multitude of cuts and gashes covering your exposed skin due to the glass.

Sam was holding a section of his ripped shirt against the area of your head that was thumping along with your racing heartbeat, and in his other hand, he held his phone plastered to his ear. You couldn’t tell who he was on the phone too, but the desperation in his eyes, as he looked down at you, it wasn’t good. As you had taken the direct hit of the car and Sam was on the other side, he had the pain and aches from the whiplash, a deep gash through his eyebrow that was steadily leaking blood and then a scattering of cuts from the glass, otherwise was mostly unscathed.

“That’s it, sweetheart, keep looking at me, the medics aren’t far away”, Sam’s voice sounded as if he was underwater, completely drowned out by the high-pitched, excessive buzzing that still consumed your consciousness. “Yeah, she’s awake-” Sam continued on the phone, unbeknown to you, to your boyfriends who were already in the car and driving to the area.

Oh course, he had already called the medics, as well as a couple of people from the growing crowd around the accident and soon after called his bosses, Steve and Bucky who sounded like they were both going to throw up and kill someone at the same time.

“Sam?” you managed to ask, not for anything in particular, in all honesty, you were just trying to reach for some kind of comfort and seeing him above you as just that.

“It’s ok, the boys are nearly here, you’re doing so well, just keep your eyes on me, please sweetheart, NO- don’t close your eyes”, Sam tried to keep you awake, dropping his phone onto the pavement below to give you his fullest attention but you were already unconscious again.

The next time you’re awake again, the paramedics had arrived and neck support had been attached to keep you stationary. “Hey y/n, can you hear us? Can you squeeze my finger for me?”, the closest medic was asking but you didn’t respond, mostly still out of it, dazed and confused.

Then across the commotion, the deafening screech of ties breaking across the tarmac was heard and the frantic shouts of your name as Steve and Bucky had arrived. This was something you would never remember, your eyes closed before they even reached you and it was probably for the best that you couldn’t remember it, possibly only adding more trauma to the situation.

Sam stepped back and watched the scene unfold before him, giving both of your boyfriend's room to be next to you as the medics continued to look after you. The bodyguard wiped a hand over his face, ignoring the painful injuries as tears welled in his eyes at seeing his bosses and also life-long friends completely break down.

They seemed lost between wanting to still be possessive, demanding to know everything that the medics were doing, and then the heartbreak of seeing you so injured and unresponsive, they didn’t know whether to shout or cry. At one point Bucky had to step away to vomit, it was complete chaos.

It took a couple of days for you to be fully conscious again and even this wasn’t a relief, even though it was something that Steve and Bucky had begged to anyone that would listen to occur. The confusion of the accident was still evident, unsure of where you were, why you couldn’t move properly, and why there were so many things attached to your body. You became quickly hysteric, ignoring the pleas from Steve and Bucky to try and calm down but your response was enough that the doctors deemed it appropriate to try and sedate you back into a peaceful sleep.

This was definitely for the best as you weren’t able to comprehend the state of which your boyfriends were even in, something that definitely would have upset you further. They both hadn’t changed their clothes the entire time, malnourished of food and drink as they obsessively sat next to your bed, day and night, unshaven, the whites of their eyes red from lack of sleep and crying. Both would take it in turns to go to the toilet before coming so you always had someone next to your bed, it was obsessive and no matter how many times the Doctors tried to escort the men to get some real sleep, they would simply shoot daggers at the professionals with their eyes before being left to it.

Thankfully after every scan and test that was done, it was determined that there would be no lasting damage, the wound on your temple was sutured with dissolvable stitches and your wrist and arm were placed into casts, with physiotherapy planned in the future and of course, your body was deeply bruised along with whiplash strain. Now, they just needed you to wake up to assess the memory loss and if there was any other damage from the impact to your brain.

They were lucky that the gang were able to continue as usual with the remaining members who had all been ordered to not disturb you all, no distractions necessary. Natasha was the only person to have the courage to visit and thankfully didn’t back down from the fight as she gave both of her bosses a stern talking too.

“When she wakes up, which SHE WILL, do you think she’d want to see you both looking like this? She’s injured and will be for some time, she shouldn’t be waking up with you both in this state, it’s probably make her more distressed. You need to get your shit together, go and shower, shave, eat a proper meal, and put on some new clothes so that when she wakes up, she has some stability and you’re actually prepared to look after her rather than moping around feeling sorry for yourselves!”.

In any other situation, Steve and Bucky would have been ready for a fight but Natasha’s brutal honesty was what they needed to hear, not as their employee but as their friend so they did exactly that.

Another 24 hours passed and you were finally beginning to stir, eyes fluttering open and head turning in the direction of the welcoming voices of your boyfriends and for the first time in days, they saw a hint of a smile on your beautiful face. You had no recognition of the last few days or anything from the accident but after a few further tests, they were happy to discharge you home to rest which you needed as it was complete agony to try and move with the ache in your muscles.

The two men didn’t seem to want to let go of you the entire time, if they were holding your hand, they were rubbing small circles against your uninjured leg, or stroking their thumb against your cheek, it was almost as if they were scared that once they let go of you, something bad would happen.

This only aided with the fact that you couldn’t walk was just another excuse for Steve and Bucky to carry you everywhere which was difficult at first with the discomfort in your body but it was better than any other option and it meant that you could properly embrace them, even for those short moments.

Then at long last, you were home, and you couldn’t deny crying happy tears as you saw the decorations that had been left in surprise by the Rogers gang, banners reading “welcome home!” and balloons covering nearly every surface of the living room. Everything was perfect, even the natural smell of your home was enough to have you crumbling into a mess.

It was hard to try and get accustomed to living at home after surviving such a traumatic experience, the physical and emotional toll was something no one could have prepared you for. As the three of you settled into your bed that evening, you had to find the right way to lie with the casts on your limbs still making it difficult to move and the ache still throbbing throughout your neck and spine, it wasn’t particularly comfortable. But finally, with you lying in the middle, your leg propped up on a couple of pillows, Steve to your right and Bucky to your left, you began to comprehend everything that had happened.

You sobbed harder than you thought possible, even becoming breathless as you verged on hyperventilating at thinking about your life nearly ending. Steve and Bucky tried to soothe you but their own emotional trauma came to a head as they too revealed their devastation at nearly losing you, both men crying as you all held one another.

But as the saying goes: ‘time heals all wounds’.

It wasn’t easy, not that you’d expected it to but as each day passed and your body ached less and less and the scratches began to heal, it lessened the pain in your heart. There would always be struggles but they were made easier with your devoted boyfriends.

With the broken wrist, it was difficult to cut your food and eat so Steve and Bucky insisted on feeding you, even if you could use your one hand to lift a fork to your mouth, they were going to make sure you rested in any way, smiling as they fed you every bite of every year. The worst change was going to the toilet, the boys offering to wipe but this was one step too far, you could do that but it was getting up again off of the toilet or waking them in the middle of the night that had your cheeks burning with embarrassment but they were more than happy to help you

“I’m here to look after you, no matter what it is that you’d like, I WANT to do it Doll. Ii know you want some dependency but this isn’t forever, it’s just for now so please let me look after you”, Bucky sweetly said after you frustratedly dropped your shirt to the floor, having been struggling to put it on for a while.

After a week of being home, Sam finally came to visit and once again you found yourself crying as he dropped to the couch and you both held onto each other. He’d been given some much-needed time off to recover and had been visiting his sister and nephews but now, he wanted to come and visit, really see that you were healing.

Finally gathering your emotions, you pulled back and wiped your face of tears, a genuine smile replacing your sad features as you saw the scratches over his face had most healed, only leaving the healing cut over his eyebrow.

“Everyone is going to love this new rugged look”, you commented, glancing at his injury. “The ladies will come running with the bad boy look”.

“Ah I know, who could deny such a handsome face, it’s a curse believe me”, he joked back, relief also settling over his body at hearing you relaxing. “Even better now we’re matching, bet we look like a right pair of hooligans”, he joked, looking up at the plaster still attached to your head covering the healing stitches.

“I think it just adds character”, you grinned back at him before your smile slowly faded as your tone became more serious. “Sam… I can’t even begin to thank you for looking after me”.

Sam’s eyes dropped to look into his lap, losing the strength to hide his emotions, “I didn’t do much-”.

“Yes, you did! You pulled me out of the vehicle and looked after me before the medics arrived, but it’s not just during this accident, you’ve always looked after me. I’m so grateful to have you in my life and I’m so glad you’re ok”.

Sam’s eyes twinkled as he looked up, his throat bobbing as he couldn’t muster up the words to talk, instead just pulling you into a hug that conveyed more emotions than words could have. Steve and Bucky also pulled Sam into crushing hugs, “Thank you for looking after our girl”, whispered between friends.

“Please go and put your feet up Sam, you deserve the time off!” you shouted after Sam as he moved towards the exit.

“I’ll try my best Boss Lady, you rest up too”, he replied with his beaming smile returning to his handsome face.

Another day passes as you sat at the edge of your bed with Bucky on his knees between your legs, his expression stern and unblinking as he concentrated on his job at hand.

“How does it look, is it horrible? Is it long? Do I look ugly?” you asked, looking up at his face as he leaned in closer to your face, his fingers gently easing the plaster away from your face as he inspected the stitches on your head.

“You could never be beautiful”, he mumbled under his breath, easing the last corner of your plaster off and then sitting back to assess the sight before him. Bucky’s face dropped causing your heartbeat to increase frantically in your chest.

“What? Is it bad? Bucky what is it?!” you asked desperately. Racing across the bed, you tried to pick up the hand mirror to have a look yourself but Bucky snatched it up before you could grab it, holding it at arm's length so that you couldn’t reach it.

“I’m not sure that you’ll want to see this Doll”, his voice was low and thick with concern.

“Oh my god Bucky please tell me, has it healed wrong?” You were really beginning to panic now, about to call for Steve to come and help when Bucky’s hard exterior broke and a taunting grin spread across his face making his eyes crinkle in the corners.

“You look just as beautiful mama”, he affectionately whispered, kissing your cheek and handing the mirror to you to show that the injury was nearly completely healed, only a different toned colour lay on your forehead, the stitches mostly invisible.

You rolled your eyes dramatically realising that he had been teasing you, “That wasn’t nice Barnes”.

“Ah, but you love me”, he mocked, lips brushing against yours softly, only enough to feel the slightest pressure of his soft lips.

“Yes I do”, you gave in instantly, using your uninjured hand to cup his jaw tenderly, stroking against his slightly stubbled skin, holding him there to kiss more deeply.

Before anything became too heated, Bucky was pulling back, pecking the tip of your nose before helping you into his arms to carry down for some dinner.

This was how it had been since returning from the hospital. It wasn’t that you were rushing to be intimate with them but they were both so adamant about your healing that there had been a very strict: no-touching rule. At first, when it even hurt to move you were more than happy to comply with the instruction but as your mobility improved and their kisses began to linger for longer or hands would wash over your body with more intent than to clean your skin, it was becoming more difficult to resist the urges that you were experiencing.

Downstairs, Steve was preparing a stew for you all, chopping the vegetables on the counter and smiling over his shoulder as he saw you and Bucky approaching. As Bucky placed you at the dinner table that was in the sizeable kitchen, Steve wiped his hand on the kitchen towel and sauntered over, leaning his arms on either side of your chair, his eyes level with your revealed head injury.

“It’s looking good isn’t it?” Bucky commented as he took over Steve’s job of chopping up the vegetables.

“It does, and it’ll keep looking better with each day, the Doctor did a good job of fixing up my baby”, Steve responded, his finger under your chin to tilt your head back so he could leave a searing kiss against your mouth. Your body leaned into a kiss and then he was moving away far too prematurely, leaving you wanting more but you didn’t verbalise this, not having the heart to complain after they’d been looking after you so much.

“Could I… Could I help in some way please?” you asked, looking hopefully between Steve and Bucky as they continued with prepping dinner. The two glanced at each other before Steve walked over with a chopping board, knife and carrot that had already been peeled. “Thank you!” you beamed up at him, happy that even though there were so many things that they were willing to help you with, they did try and give you some independence.

Not that it was easy to try and chop up a carrot with one hand still in a solid cast so after far too many attempts at sawing into the carrot, you decided instead to slam the knife down in sharp chops, leaving the carrot in three large chunks.

“Um… done!” you nervously announced to the boys.

Steve returned to pick up the chopping board, “good job, baby”, he praised, kissed the top of your head and you grinned as he placed the carrots in with the rest of the mixture, even though it was extremely obvious which carrot you had chopped compared to Bucky’s thinly sliced carrots. You loved the way they handled you, there was no hint of condescension from either of them when you tried to help and it was all to help you get back into a routine of normality.

Even if they did still continue to feed you which you secretly enjoyed now as it meant you get to sit in either of their laps and feel close to them.

That evening, you asked if you could have a bath which they were happy to help you into, Bucky was in charge of keeping your arm and leg outside of the tub to not get the cast wet and wrapping them both in cling film took entirely too long. Whereas Steve was in charge of washing your body with a sponge slathered in shower gel, another insistence from them both, even though you were more than capable of washing your body with your other hand.

You couldn’t wait for these damn casts to be off, “I can’t wait to have a shower”, you vocalised to them both, watching as Steve washed across your shoulders from where he sat on the edge of the bathtub.

“Hmm. I am going to miss this though”, Steve observed, not hiding that he loved being able to look after you. Closing your eyes, you enjoyed the little pamper session but as the sponge grazed over your perked nippled, you couldn’t help but lean into the touch, a moan forming in the back of your throat.

Steve’s chuckle had you looking up at him through half-lidded eyes as he asked, “Did you like that, baby girl?”

“Yes”, you admitted, watching as he did it again, paying particular attention to the very peaks of your nipples and then rubbing over the rest of your breasts in circular movements.

There was nothing you wanted more than to feel their bodies pressed against yours but with your limited use and weakness throughout your entire body, even with your good hand, you knew you’d tire quickly and not be able to satisfy them so you still refrained from asking them to fully pleasure you.

“You’re so beautiful, Mama”, Bucky watched with dark eyes, licking his lips almost hungrily and you whined at the sight, back arching more into Steve’s movements.

As the sponge moved over your body, through the water that lapped against the edges of the porcelain tub, you noticed the way that Steve was pressing more firmly on certain areas, especially in between your legs that had you grinding to feel more.

But like all of the other times, he never made a move to go any further and you were feeling more sexually frustrated than you had before, even after they both helped to dry you with a towel, in between your legs remained damp as your juices still trickled out.

Bucky carried you to the bed, placing you in the middle, the same as every night and you were completely naked, something that you had quickly decided was the comfiest, it always takes far too long to put on your pyjamas when Steve and Bucky always wrapped around you and kept you warm.

As you settled into the bed, leg again propped up on multiple pillows, you waited patiently for the boys to both join you as they cleaned the bathroom. However today, it was taking far too long and if you concentrated hard enough, you could hear them both talking quietly to one another.

As you opened your mouth to ask what was taking them so long, they joined back in the bedroom, removing their clothes, save for their boxers, switched the lights off and clambered into bed. As their overtly warm skin smoothed against yours, your questions slipped into the back of your mind, finding their comfort already distracting.

With a kiss on each of your cheeks, you closed your eyes to try and go to sleep and ignore the agonising ache in your core. But it seemed Bucky had other ideas as his hand rested on your abdomen, over your belly button, his thumb stroking the skin in slow circles as his hand dripped lower and lower.

You didn’t stop him, chest rising and falling with increasing speed as his fingers teased over your mound, the lowest that they’d been since between the accident. Your breath caught in your throat, screaming in your mind for him to keep going, to dip that little bit lower.

Steve’s hand cupped your jaw, the touch distracting you from the one teasing to push between your legs as he forced your head to turn in the direction of where he lay. Opening your eyes, even in the dark you could see his intense stare, as he began to speak, his minty breath coated your face, “Do you want us to keep touching you, baby?”

“Yes”, you sounded more desperate than you’d hoped to, his question feeling like some sort of light in the darkness, now realising this must have been what they had spoken about in the bathroom.

“You sure you’re feeling up to it?”, he continued to ask, his fingers moving over your jaw and down your throat, grazing over your collarbone and still lower until hovering over your left nipple.

“Yes, fuck yes”, you groaned, arching up to feel his hand but he kept it far enough away that you didn’t get the touch you wanted.

“If you get too tired and overwhelmed, will you tell us?”

“I promise!”, you pleaded, moving your unbroken leg to the side slightly, giving Bucky more room. “But…But I also want to touch you, I want you both to feel good!”

It was Bucky who spoke next, his mouth moving to graze the shell of your ear as he tutted, “Not tonight Doll, let us make you feel good, wanna hear your sweet moans, you deserve this, you’ve done so well”.

You were moaning before his fingers even slipped lower but as the tip of his middle finger grazed between your folds and touched against your throbbing clit, your whole body seemed to come alight.

Steve's fingers then lowered as well, in time with Bucky, pressing against your nipples and he groaned at just how hard they were, gently pinching and tweaking them before grasping the entire breast and massaging the tissue.

“You’re so wet for me Honey, is this what you wanted? Did you want us to touch you here?” Bucky teased before nipping the lobe of your ear.

“Wanted it so bad!”, you gasped as Bucky moved lower, finding your hole and circling it a few times, feeling just how soaked for him that you were before pushing in a single digit, not stopping until it was all the way in. “Bucky!”

Your walls fluttered around him, having not been penetrated for what felt like so long now and he was careful to start slow, really building up the pressure which matched with Steve’s hands on your chest, was already driving you insane with arousal.

In and out his finger slowly moved, his thumb skillfully brushing over your clit to match his pace. Then he was adding another finger and your leg widened further, thighs shaking slightly as you had to refrain from reaching out for them both, knowing that you’d end up knocking your broken wrist so kept them at your sides.

“That feels so good Bucky,” you praised, turning your head towards him.

“Yeah? Want me to make you cum, Mama?” he asked, his lips now hovering over yours.

“Yes, please!”.

As his lips met yours, hastily moving against each other, Bucky’s fingers began to curl and his thumb applied more pressure. Every nerve in your body seemed to come alive as they were being pleasured and you were experiencing the ultimate thrill. Your core was tightening with each tug against your g-spot, chest rising and falling harshly into Steve’s grasp as he moved between each breast, each sending sparks straight to your cunt.

You were a wet, babbling mess when the overwhelming sensation to cum took over, not even having time to tell your boyfriends but they already knew you were close and began touching you with more urgency.

Your pussy began clenching in quick succession as your orgasm destroyed you, pulling away from Bucky so you had space to scream out his name, hips bucking widely at the touch until it became too sensitive.

Bucky eased his wet fingers out of you, bringing them up to his lips and humming at your exquisite taste that he’d been desperate to taste for so long.

Steve gave you another moment to gather yourself before his fingers began to fill you up, replacing where Bucky was, two fingers rocking in and out as his thumb rolled your clit in a circle. Bucky’s metal fingers then teased your pebbled nipples, the cool feeling making you gasp more.

“Let’s see just how many more we can get from you, baby” Steve growled into your neck, sucking the sensitive skin.

“Yes, Daddy”, you moaned whilst lost in your ecstasy.

Steve and Bucky worked well together, knowing exactly when to slow down their movements, letting you get used to the sensations before ramping up the speed and pressures, bringing you to the peak of orgasm before starting again. They took it in turns until your breasts were sore and puffy and your hole ached and your juices soaked the sheets below.

You were a mumbling mess when they determined that you had enough, your entire body feeling like it was floating and light as Steve licked his fingers clean one more time before tucking you in close to his side.

“You feeling ok, Doll?” Bucky asked, sliding in close as well, his arm wrapping around your middle.

“Mmm so so good”, you muttered, eyes drooping close with exhaustion. “I can’t wait to take these casts off so I can repay the favour”.

Steve’s checked vibrated against your ear as he chuckled, kissing the top of your head, “Get some rest, my love”.

#stucky smut #stucky x reader #mafia au #mafia steve rogers #mafia bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #marvel smut #mine*

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writerscafehub · 6 months

Text

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑❜𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

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( • ༝•)

c /づづ 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 all the works made by the very talented members of the writer's café server in the month of OCTOBER. we ask, and highly encourage, that you reblog them in support. ♡

ALL WORKS ARE FOR THOSE 18+ ONLY.

𖥔 indicates smut

✶ indicates dark elements

By ☁︎☽ Cocoa ☁︎☽ @cocoamoonmalfoy @darksideofthecocoamoon

𖥔 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐌 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟕 | god of spring!timothee chalamet

Part seven of the crown him series

✶ 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 | the beast

Imagine a twisted beauty and the beast. Reverse kidnapping: I’m in your house and I’m not leaving

𖥔 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 | bard!timothee chalamet

An unlikely trio on an impossible quest pick up a stray along the way

𖥔 ✶ 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐓 | soft!dark!king hal

Hal could sympathize with Hades, for after seeing the light of life, how could he not pin it close to his darkness

𖥔 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄 | king hal

Hal finds that sitting for his portrait isn’t bad at all

𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐎𝐑 | prince hal

Disowned or not, the son of the king needed to be protected

By ★ Jen ★ @jen-with-a-pen

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 | art student!frat brother!steve rogers

Steve can’t remember what happened last night, but his body sure does. Regret is the worst hangover of all - even more so when you can’t remember what you regret

✶ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐓 | bucky barnes

Being held captive and experimented on definitely wasn’t in your job description. After what seems like months in HYDRA captivity, rescue finally arrives - but what is rescue if not relief from suffering.

By 𖠰 Nat 𖠰 @the-iceni-bitch

𖥔 ✶ 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐇𝐄𝐌 | kinktober masterlist

Prepare yourselves for a month filled with wicked and scandalous delights, with vicious and freakish lovers for whatever type of monster you may fancy

By ❈ Beanie ❈ @shadeysprings

𖥔 ✶ 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓 | kinktober masterlist

Four stories with captivatingly dark themes

𖥔 ✶ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋 | dark!pete brenner

You work hard to entice the biggest possible client for your company, but he has his own ideas for you to make you say yes

𖥔 ✶ 𝐍𝐎 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐒 | dark!ransom drysdale

Ransom makes it known why breaking up with him is wrong.

𖥔 ✶ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐘 | priest!lee boedecker

The new priest of your church asks you to sing for him.

𖥔 ✶ 𝐍𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐔𝐓 | serial killer!lee boedecker

With the serial killer targeting boys, you thought you were safe. Until you weren’t.

By ❥ Courtney ❥ @chasingmidnights

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | thirteen nights of halloween masterlist

13 Nights of Halloween and each night is going to be a different (what I'm calling) "campfire stories". Each story is going to be told by a different character ranging from Chris Evans characters to Sebastian Stan characters to Marvel Characters. Make sure to take a look at the Intro to meet the various characters! So, gather around the fire and try not to get too scared.

By ⚔︎ Suz ⚔︎ @targaryenvampireslayer

𖥔 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 | ghost!bucky barnes

Bucky was taken from you by HYDRA a year ago. You mourn him and miss him, until you start dreaming of him… until he starts coming back to you

By ✵ Selene ✵ @fluffyprettykitty

𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐌 𝐖𝐈��𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐒𝐊 | sugar daddy!sam wilson

Quick and dirty sugar daddy Sam Drabble.

By 𖤛 Roo 𖤛 @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

✶ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐉𝐀𝐇 | yelena belova

You find a stranger at your door, a visitor you can’t make leave

✶ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀 𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 | kraven the hunter

You catch the eye of a mysterious man who shares an unexpected secret with you

By ☆ Stella ☆ @a-lumos-in-the-nox

✶ 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃

A group of friends decide to explore the haunted house on the shortcut back to campus. Ignoring the 'No Trespassing' signs. They ease drop in on a meeting between beings, mortals have never lived to tell tales about. And find out the consequences of ease dropping on the annual Hallows Eve meeting.

𖥔 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓 | druig and makkari and female!oc

The kink alphabet for the threesome

𖥔 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 | druig and female!oc

Reader is horny but won’t do anything about it because she is busy doing other things. But her husband who can read minds can hear her inner struggle and does something about it.

𖥔 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | druig and makkari and female!oc

Makkari has a surprise field trip for Juni and Druig. They don’t know where they are going. It is her turn to pick where they meet up this time.

By ☄︎ Ellie ☄︎ @mrsmischief209

𖥔 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 |

Introduction to Kinktober

𖥔 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 | billy russo

Inspired by the song ‘Slow Hand’ by the Pointer Sisters

✶𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 | softdark!frank castle

Inspired by the song ‘Breath’ by Breaking Benjamin

By ☪︎ Gina ☪︎ @slvttyfied

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 | chef!ari levinson

Cause baby I can build a castle out of all the bricks they threw at me and every day is like a battle but every night with us is like a dream

By ✯ Vic ✯ @sunflowersteves

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 - 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐉 | carmen berzatto

Carmen knew you were a bit inexperienced, so what better way than to show you how?

By ⚘ Akane ⚘ @haravath0t

𖥔 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 | college au!alhaitham

College AU headcanon

By ⎈ Navy ⎈ @navybrat817

𖥔 ✶𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 | various SS and CE characters

One shots and ficlets for the month of October

𖥔 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 | bucky barnes

You want Bucky in your mouth. Simple as that.

By ✍︎ Em ✍︎ @writing-for-marvel

𖥔 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 | mob!bucky barnes

Newlyweds Mob!Bucky and wife!reader explore Europe and each other during their honeymoon.

By ❀ Ali ❀ @flordeamatista

𖥔 ✶ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | various SS and CE characters

Kinktober inspired by tarot cards and their auras

𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 | lee boedecker

A tale of your wicked deeds.

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐒𝐄𝐓

By 𐀔 Alex 𐀔 @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy

𖥔 𝐁𝐔𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐍'𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | masterlist

Spooky season stories heavily inspired by Hozier’s album, ‘Eat Your Young’

�� 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 | rockstar!sam/steve/bucky

When your friends invite you to a rock show and the drummer invites you back to his hotel room, you might get more than you bargained for yet…

By ✬ Astro ✬ @astrorogers

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑 | wanda maximoff

The Scarlet Witch has arrived which means her familiar must finally reunite with her.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 | wanda maxinoff

Wanda teaches kitten about Halloween

𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀 𝐀𝐒𝐊 | mistress!wanda maximoff

Mistress!Wanda x sub!kitten reader smut

281 notes · View notes

writing-for-marvel · 6 months

Text

These are all the fics I've read in October. Please go show all these amazing writers some much deserved love! Also please remember to read the warnings for each individual fic

🔥 - smut | 💗 - fluff |💧 - angst | 😈 - dark

Dividers by @saradika

Bucky Barnes

💧 Meant To Be (series) by @rosepetalsinwinter

🔥 Might Even Be by @slyyywriting

🔥 Lose Your Voice by @navybrat817

💗 Feelin’ Gourd by @jobean12-blog

💧💗🔥 Insatiable by @/jobean12-blog

💗 Rooted in Love by @/jobean12-blog

🔥 Cockwarming by @vellicore

💧💗 Clingy by @imtryingbuck

💗 A Written Notion by @sweetdreamsbuck

💧🔥 Wait For Hours by @notafunkiller

💧🔥 One Night With You Part 1 by @jtargaryen18

💗 What He Deserves by @hannibals-favourite-meal

💗 Personal Pillow by @mrsbarnesblog

💗 Hot Chocolate by @littleseasiren

💧💗 Who The Hell Is Daryl? By @lostgirlmuseum

💗 Firefighter Bucky taking you in after a fire at your apartment building by @espinosaurusrexex

💧💗 What If I Am Too Much? by @notafunkiller

😈🔥 Ace of Wands by @flordeamatista

Steve Rogers

🔥 Love Bites by @lunarbuck

🔥 Eyes on Me by @1-800-jjbarnes

💗 Back Rubs by @sapphire-rogers

🔥 Car Sex by @stuckymonkey

🔥 Carnival Fun by @notyetneedcoffee

💗🔥 I’ve still got a few rounds left in me by @thyme-in-a-bubble

💗 Stars and Stripes by @intrepidacious

🔥💗 Breathe Me by @fushic0re

💧 Say It Back by @fandoms-writings

💗 The Second Date by @crazyunsexycool

🔥💗 Overstimulation by @myfictionaldreams

💧💗 Imagine Steve coming to be with you by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord

Wanda Maximoff

🔥 Somnophilia by @sytoran

🔥 Thigh Riding by @/sytoran

💗 The Purrfect Pair by @astrorogers

Frank Castle

🔥😈 Sacrifice Yourself and Let Me Have What’s Left by @mrsmischief209

💧🔥 Complicated by @targaryenvampireslayer

💧💗 How To Say I Love You by @feelmyskinonyourskin

💗 Domestic Frank by @strawhbrrries

Sam Wilson

🔥 Phone Sex by @/lunarbuck

💧💗 Love Me, Too by @onceuponastory

💗🔥 Sugar Daddy!Sam by @fluffyprettykitty

Andy Barber

🔥 The Devil by @/flordeamatista

💗 CEO!Andy by @holacia3

💗 Your Age Is Showing by @worksby-d

Lee Bodecker

😈🔥 Save Your Tears by @/flordeamatista

😈 Lights Out by @/vellicore

Joel Miller

🔥 Thrills by @moonlight-prose

🔥 Can’t Keep My Hands to Myself by @/jobean12-blog

🔥💗 Joel is such a sap after sex by @inklore

💧💗 Roommate Joel Collection by @/holacia3

Multiple Characters

💧😈 Surrender by @/mrsmischief209

🔥 Double Penetration by @/lunarbuck [Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers]

😈🔥 The Magician by @/flordeamatista [Lloyd Hansen & Nick Fowler]

205 notes · View notes

megamindsecretlair · 2 months

Note

i need me some one night stand Sam smut, maybe they met at a bar or mutual friend’s wedding/any event. whatever your little heart desires i just know that it’s gonna be amazing especially with Sam’s nasty behind. ily 🩷

A/N: I know I keep apologizing, but I am SOOO SORRY! I did not intend for this to take so long. I know you said it's cool, but I can't help it. Thank you for being so patient with me. ILY, ILY!

Feel Like I Do

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Some sentences are intentional AAVE. SMUT. Cursing, PIV, oral (female and male receiving), teasing, use of pet names, mentions of birth control, size kink, praise kink, one night stand smut.

Summary: See Ask. While out at a club for your friend's birthday, you bump into Sam. He's sweet, charming, and there's something achingly familiar about him. You go home with him, needing to see where this goes.

Word Count: 5,505k

A/N: When an ask kicks my ass, it kicks my ass!!!! However, once it finally came together, it flowed so beautifully. Thank you @planetblaque for helping me! ILY. This is based off of one my fave songs. Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I love hearing your thoughts! I block ageless blogs.

Taglist: @multiversefanfics @chaos-4baby @leahnicole1219 @capswife @anghstybean @targaryenvampireslayer @sheabutterbabes @browngirldominion @theunsweetenedtruth @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap @nerdieforpedro

The cover band was too loud. You grimaced as you made your way past the press of bodies towards the bar. You could barely hear the singer and the instruments sounded disharmonious on top of it. You hated nights like these. Why couldn’t your friend’s birthday fall during the week?

This was your favorite club but you mostly went during the week when you could sit back and relax. There were less people, less lecherous men, and you could actually hear who was playing. It was a great spot to discover new and local talent.

You shoved past a guy leaning in some poor girl’s face. You dug your elbow into his side hard enough for him to turn around. The girl he was speaking with gave you a grateful smile while she took off, disappearing into the crowd.

You waved innocently to the man. There was a small opening at the bar that you made a beeline for. As soon as you reached it, you lifted a hand to get the bartender’s attention. At the same time, a man bumped into you and raised his own hand.

“Hey!” You said.

The man looked at you and you gasped. He was so cute. Smooth chestnut skin, a neat goatee, and high cheekbones. He wore a simple outfit with dark jeans and a carmine T-shirt but he wore it extremely well. The shirt bunched around his upper arms, bulging under his massive muscles.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you! Please, go ahead,” he said. He waved for you to go ahead.

“Thanks. You’re not a regular here ,” you said.

The man shook his head. “Trying to cheer up my friend,” he said. He pointed to a section of the club where the booths were. There were two men sitting there. One with blond hair and looked like he bench pressed entire trucks for a living. The other had darker, longer hair and was whispering something to him.

“Girl troubles?” You asked.

“Always is. I’m Sam,” he said. He held out his hand. You shook his hand and introduced yourself. It was warm and big, strong in a way most men these days weren’t. You reluctantly dropped his hand, wondering what the hell was wrong with you. You just met the man and there was no reason to feel so..connected to him already. As if you knew him.

“What brings you to this madhouse tonight?” Sam asked. You both waved for the bartender’s attention, but he was too busy at the other end of the bar. It’d be a while before he made his way down this way. The other bartender was too preoccupied by a group of guys on the opposite end. Fuck, you just wanted a damn drink.

“Birthday for my friend,” you said. You pointed to your friends in a different booth. They were currently whooping, yelling and throwing their hands up while they danced. They looked like they were having fun. It was the goal and you were happy.

“Ah, so they send the errand people to grab their drinks, huh?” Sam asked.

“Seems like. But we’re good friends, so we’ll grin and bear it,” you said.

Sam nodded. “Since we’re gonna be here a while, you mentioned that I wasn’t a regular here. Does that mean you are?”

It was your turn to nod. You leaned on the bar and faced him better. There were too many people crowding on either side, screaming for the two bartenders behind the bar. They pressed against you until you were flush against Sam. To his credit, he did his best to get away and give you some room.

“Guess we’re getting personal tonight. How ‘bout your next drink is on me as an apology?” He asked.

Something about him was so disarming. It was unnerving. Your natural defenses were useless against him. Usually you were trying to get out of there as fast as you could. Picking up women in bars always seemed so cheesy to you. Full of bad pick up lines and beer goggles.

Sam seemed as sober as a judge. And he smelled divine. Something earthy. Something that reminded you of taking hikes in the forest, faint mist in the air, and the sound of a small waterfall nearby.

You hadn’t had much to drink but being near him was like you were buzzed. Like time was hazy and the only plane of existence was inside the club. You swayed a bit towards him. Drawn to his gravitational pull.

“I’d like that, but no apology needed.” You smiled at him, suddenly at a loss of what to do or say. Your body was becoming electrified. The sounds in the place receded to the background as your attention narrowed to Sam.

“No apology needed, but how about an answer to my question in exchange? Is it strange that I feel like we know each other?”

You grinned. Good, it wasn’t just you. You shook your head. “Right? Like what is that?”

Sam ran through places that you might have in common. Like grocery stores, no. Or gyms, hell no. He ran around nearabout the Washington monument every day in the wee hours of the morning.

“If I’m up before the sun is up, shoot me,” you said.

He laughed, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. He had a good laugh. One that you wanted to hear over and over.

“Not a morning person, huh?” He asked.

“Not even a little bit.” You were quite the terror in the morning when you woke up. As if the day owed you a personal favor for getting up on time. You had no time for morning chats or chores or anything that required brain activity until your first cup of coffee. Even then, it was hit or miss on how your mood would progress until the sun was higher in the sky and you didn’t feel like crawling back into bed.

You abandoned the drinks and simply talked to Sam. You learned more about him, about his time spent in the military and that he was a counselor now. You told him about your soul-sucking job and how you came here often to listen to local bands.

He had a great voice that melted like butter around everything he said. And the way he told a story made you feel like you were really there.

Every now and then, you would get bumped into and in turn, bump into him. Every push against his body was its own hit of dopamine. Every time he steadied you, his hands wrapped around your forearms, turned your brain to mush. Every time he smiled, you wanted to grab him and never let go.

“We still haven’t gotten any drinks,” he said.

You chuckled as you realized that you were probably talking to him for the last thirty minutes. In your own bubble, getting to know one another.

You looked towards your friends. They were still dancing but were now on their phones. You pulled yours out to see the dozens of missed texts. The threats to call the police started. You texted them back to know that you were still alive and not kidnapped. You showed Sam and he laughed.

“We’re pretty bad friends,” he said. He looked towards his own. The situation looked a bit better. Maybe the dark-haired one was able to cheer up the blonde.

“So bad! What are they gonna do with us?” You asked.

“Well, I still haven’t gotten you that drink but it doesn't look like we’re having much luck at the bar. I can’t let you leave without making it up to you,” he said.

You grinned and looked towards the dance floor. The cover band had mercifully stopped and now the DJ was spinning records you could actually dance to. You turned your attention back to Sam. “How about a dance?”

He looked towards the crowded dance floor and then turned back to you with a chuckle. “Think you can keep up?”

You giggled and stepped away from the bar. You glided your hand across his chest and he looked down to follow the movement. “Can you?” You asked.

Sam smirked. He grabbed your hand and led you to the dance floor. The bottom of the floor was illuminated with squares of color. Neon blues, reds, and purples danced over you as you stepped onto the floor.

You started bobbing your shoulders and getting into the rhythm. Sam followed your lead, getting closer and shaking his hips. His hands coasted along your exposed arms in your black tank top, pulling you closer and closer. You grinned at him.

The song changed to a funky, techno type hip-hop song. It made everyone scream with joy. You popped your booty more to match the quick beat and Sam turned you around. He grabbed the belt loops of your jeans and pulled you closer into his body roughly, your back to his chest.

You twerked on him, rubbing and grinding your booty into his crotch. If you weren’t mistaken, he was definitely happy about that. He already seemed so thick and heavy behind his jeans but he had given no indication that his mind went there.

He dropped his head closer to your shoulder, his breath fanned across your damp neck. Sweat pooled along the slopes of your body. He switched up the way you were dancing on him, controlling your movements to the way he liked and you were powerless to do anything but go along with it.

You slid your hand along the back of his neck and cupped his head. He moaned in your ear as you continued this dance, rocking with each other like you wanted to devour each other whole.

You thought that feeling like you were the only two people in the room was a joke. Experiencing it with Sam was surreal as no one else mattered. No one else existed.

He moved his hands from the belt loops to grab your hips. His fingers rode up your shirt a fraction so that he could play with your skin where your jeans stopped. Just that tiny bit of friction, his calloused fingers rubbing along your smooth skin, made your panties even more soaked than what they already were.

You were in tune with this man. You felt him on a cellular level. Every breath of his tugged at your cells. Every sound he made tickled your veins. Everytime he ground his hips into you, to let you know nonverbally that he was feeling you, was like a twitch in your muscles.

Your bodies moved in sync. Neither one of you could keep your hands from roaming. Seeking. A compulsion for more and more. There was no end in sight. No limit for this need driving you. A need to feel him, all of him.

Sam kissed your neck, licked right over the pounding vein in your neck and you dropped your head back against his shoulder. This felt too right. Too overwhelmingly good that you wanted to freeze this moment. To exist in limbo with him.

His thumbs pressed into your lower back and you moaned. Sam continued kissing up your neck until you turned your head. Your lips pressed together, a mini explosion all its own that rocked you to your core.

His lips were warm, inviting. His breath was minty with a subtle hint of beer. He kissed as well as he danced. Perhaps better.

“Come back to my place,” he said against your lips and then dived in for another scorching kiss.

“Yes,” you answered, though he hadn’t phrased it like a question. God, you wanted to see where this could go. It was soul crushing to part for even a minute. You didn’t know him. But you felt like you did. Like you had known him your entire life.

He stopped dancing and took your hand from his head. He pulled you off of the dance floor. “Meet me outside and then follow me to my place.”

You nodded. You departed, holding onto each other until you’d either have to let go or risk injury. You watched each other until the crowd obscured him. You took a deep breath, returning to reality for half a second.

You poked your way through the crowd, reaching your friends at the booth.

“Who the hell was that?” Your friend, Alana, said and waved a napkin in front of her face. The birthday girl, Cece, nodded her head.

“Shit, I feel like I need a damn cigarette,” she said.

You waved them off. Your insides were jelly, a giddy nervousness that wouldn’t quit. “Will you hate me for dipping?”

“One of us needs to get laid. Go ‘head girl,” Cece said and hi-fived you.

“I love you, I love you,” you said. You hugged them both and made them promise to look out for each other.

“I’ll accept my name as the middle name for the baby ya’ll finna make!” Cece yelled and you smacked her arm.

“Nasty ass!” You waved goodbye and headed to the parking lot. You kept expecting for that feeling to disappear. That desperate neediness in your veins to return to Sam and never leave his side. But it never did.

It increased tenfold when you reached outside. The cool air fell over your sweaty skin like stepping into a freezer. It should have woken up your senses. You didn’t “do” one night stands. You didn’t randomly go with strangers and have sex.

However, seeing Sam standing by his car made you want to jump his bones even more. He saw you approach and he smiled.

“You can change your mind if you want to,” he said.

“I don’t want to,” You said and smiled.

He told you to follow him. Your eyes cataloged everything about him. The way he moved, the way he talked. The way he stood there and radiated peace and calmness like walking melatonin.

You climbed into your car and followed Sam. He didn’t live far. He lived out in a bunch of townhomes, neat and tidy in their uniform rows. You supposed that to a military person, this would feel like home.

Sam parked first and you parked in front of his place. He got out of the car and so did you. You made your way to him. Nerves prevented you from speaking but there was a comfortable familiarity with him that didn’t require words from either of you.

He grabbed your hand and led you into his house. It was tastefully decorated and most importantly - clean. There were too many grown men comfortable with living in absolute filth and had the nerve to think women were just supposed to excuse it away.

Sam turned on a few lights, enough to see by. After locking the door and throwing his keys on the table beside it, he faced you.

He slowly approached, his eyes raking over your body. You felt it like a physical caress. His face showed nothing but appreciation and desire. He liked what he saw. And damn, did you like what you were seeing as well. He moved like a large cat, like a lion lazily stretching its muscles.

He stepped to you and then tilted your head up by your chin. He grinned and then closed his eyes, kissing you softly. Reverently. Like it was a long-lost reunion after decades apart. You felt like you would float away at any moment.

He deepened the kiss. He grabbed both sides of your face, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough. Your hands finally grabbed his thick arms, rubbing his shoulders and hanging on. He moaned low in his throat, continuing to be content with just kissing you. Tasting you.

“Upstairs? I’m assuming?” You asked.

“Beauty first,” he said. He let you go so you could turn around and head towards the stairs. You passed by pictures of him growing up. Two parents and what looked like a sister. There were more pictures of the sister with kids. Pictures of Sam with his unit.

Sam placed his hands on your hips and escorted you to his room. He turned on a lamp and the light was a little harsh but still intimate. The walls were painted a deep, soothing blue. His sheets matched the walls and he had blinds on the window.

He wasn’t much for useless junk. Everything had its place and section. He’d have a fit if he saw your place. It was clean, but you definitely tended to cherish trinkets, gadgets, or souvenirs. Proof of life. Of love. Of friendships and relaxing trips.

You faced him with a smile. There was no rush here. Nothing to indicate that he was trying to pressure you in any way. You grinned wider and reached for your shirt, throwing it on the floor.

Sam’s eyes widened, taking in your peek-a-boo turquoise bra. He licked his lips. Feeling emboldened by his obvious desire, you stripped out of your shoes and jeans, kicking them off to the side.

“I show you mine…” you sang. You grinned and sidled up next to him, reaching for his shirt. He helped you pull it off of him. Fuck, he was gorgeous. He was all smooth skin and muscle. Stack on top of stack. He took his physical health seriously. Your hands rubbed all over every inch you could reach.

Sam’s heavy breathing filled the room as you touched him. You stared into his eyes and leaned down to place a kiss over one of his pecs. He grinned. “Like what you see?”

“You know damn well how fine you are,” you said.

“Don’t mean I don’t wanna hear it,” he said.

“You are so fucking hot,” you said. You might have drooled. Didn’t care.

Sam chuckled as he finally shed his own boots and jeans, revealing black briefs and an impressive bulge. You reached for it, ready to feel that too but he grabbed your wrists before you made contact. You pouted at him.

“I was raised to be a gentleman. So get your sexy, gorgeous ass on that bed and spread them pretty legs for me,” he said.

Shivers wrecked you. There was no breeze in the house to blame it on. No whir of the A/C to excuse it away. His words alone had you rubbing your thighs together and grinning.

You backed up into the bed, holding his gaze. He licked his lips while you sat down and then scooted onto the bed. He stalked closer so that he could maintain that shared look as you laid down and got comfortable on his plush mattress.

Sam tilted his head at you. You rolled your eyes and spread your legs like he asked you to. He made a pleased sound that you felt down to your toes.

He reached out and rubbed your thighs and legs, getting you used to his touch. He hooked his rough fingers around your matching panties and tugged them down. He whistled softly as he got a peek at your glistening center.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he said. He looked up at you. As he descended down with a kiss to your tummy, he asked, “Can I taste it?”

“Yes,” you breathed out. Your breathing turned choppy.

He placed kisses along your lower tummy, not touching your pussy at all. His hands remained locked around your thighs, holding them open. He started to move down, kissing along your thighs. He stopped when he reached your inner thigh.

“Can I play with it?”

“Fuck yes,” you moaned.

His fingers massaged your thighs, digging deep and finding knots you didn’t know existed. You moaned, unable to stop yourself from squirming under his methodical hands. His thumbs traced patterns as he massaged you, tracing small circles into your skin. He kept his hands moving, gripping and learning you. His thumbs caressed the inside juncture of your legs, where your thighs met your pelvis.

“Oue, shit,” you moaned.

Sam chuckled and brushed his goatee against your skin. His face was smooth earlier but there were the beginnings of prickly stubble that rubbed along your thighs. You were unused to this type of teasing. Where it felt like your skin would melt off if he didn’t do something soon.

He placed lazy kisses to your inner thighs, making each area tingle. You felt phantom kisses all over and you continued to squirm.

“Calm down, relax,” he said against your skin.

“How can I? You’re driving me insane,” you said.

“Insane? Good. I wanna drive you to total and complete madness,” he said.

Fuck.

He kept placing these kisses along your skin and your body twisted and bowed off of the bed the closer he approached your pussy. You were probably already leaving a nice little puddle on his covers already.

“Sam, please,” you sighed. His fingers felt heavenly but you wanted more. You wanted to feel him.

“I’m sensing some impatience,” he said.

“Hella impatience,” you said.

Sam chuckled. You thought he’d say something else. You thought you’d get a warning and brace for whatever it was that he did next. But when his tongue flattened against your pussy, you leaned off of the bed with a long moan.

Your hands flew to his head, clutching him to you. He waited with his tongue against your pussy as you panted, twisted, and turned on the bed. That small act felt like a lightning strike. Sam kept your legs open waiting for you to calm down.

You took quick, choppy breaths trying to calm yourself down. This was so fucking embarrassing. You should not be this overly excited when he hasn't even done anything yet.

You planted your ass on the bed and then Sam groaned, licking up run away arousal. “Fuck, you taste so good. So sweet,” he said.

Your laugh was breathy. “It’s uh, been a while,” you said.

“That’s okay. Me too,” he said.

“Is this where I find out something’s wrong with you to scare off women?” You asked.

Sam laughed, kissing your thigh and leaving a wet mark behind. “I can only say that I just haven’t found the right woman yet.”

You were going to say something else but then he started licking in earnest. As if you were his own personal ice cream cone. He moaned more, settling further onto the bed. Then he really dug in.

You scratched his scalp as he ate you out. You couldn’t stop gyrating and grinding your hips into his mouth. He moaned and sucked and licked until your legs were shaking and you were screaming out your orgasm. Screaming at the ceiling and any neighbors nearby.

“Oh fuck!” You shook and twitched. As you came down, you leaned up. But Sam gave you a wink and dived back down, licking you again and teasing your entrance with his tongue.

“Sam?” You asked, but ended on a moan. Your clit was sensitive and you twitched with every pass.

“I ain’t done yet,” he moaned into your pussy.

You made a garbled, panicked sound. The hell did he mean he wasn’t done? He continued to lick and suck, wet smacking noises bouncing off of the walls. Your moans mixed with his. Both of you totally dedicated to the giving and receiving of oral pleasure.

Your tummy tightened, contracted, pulling another orgasm out of you. “Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god,” you chanted, unable to control your body or thoughts. You were out of your mind with pleasure.

Your lungs burned since you couldn’t draw in enough air to properly breathe. You felt dizzy and disoriented. “Oh fuck,” you said.

Sam leaned back and smacked his lips. You barely managed to look down at him over your belly. His lower jaw was drowning in your juices. He gave you a wink and kissed your thigh. “Okay?” He asked.

You nodded, too far gone to speak.

“Good, I still ain’t done,” he panted. He took a deep breath and latched right back onto your clit.

“Shit!” You yelled, trying to scoot away from him. Those muscles were not just for show. He pinned your legs to the bed, opening you up further. He held you in place as he returned to devouring his meal, heedless to your desperate pleas and cries.

“Sam, Sam, Sam,” you said as you tapped on his head.

He lifted his head. “You okay?”

“T-too much,” you said.

“Aww, need a break?” He asked.

You nodded, tears swimming to your eyes. “I’m still hungry. Give me one more,” he said.

“What!” He returned to your pussy, licking all around your clit and making your eyes roll back in your head. You were unused to this much pleasure, this much bliss. Before long, another orgasm was steamrolling over you and robbing you of breath.

True to his word, he stopped and kissed up your thighs and rubbed his wet beard into your skin. He nibbled on your tummy. You felt all of this distantly, knowing he was doing it but what was one more sensation as you calmed down from your orgasm? Your nerves were on fire. Singed right down to the atom.

Sam rubbed your stomach. You closed your eyes and snuggled into the feeling. Of the tranquility you felt by his side.

“You are so mean,” you said.

Sam chuckled. He leaned over and started kissing your cheek and jaw. You faintly smelled yourself on him and it made you want to lick his face. His lips moved lower to whisper in your ear. “You should’ve warned me that you taste so damn good. I could spend all night in between your legs. Tasting that pretty pussy,” he said.

“Fuck. Sam,” you said. You turned your head to look into his pussy drunk eyes.

He grinned. He brought his hand up to caress your cheek. “You’re really gorgeous.”

“You’re gonna kill me,” you said.

He laughed. “I hope not. I feel like I’d miss you too much even though we just met,” he said.

You were completely limp as a noodle. You were relaxed and lethargic, incapable of doing anything more than concentrating on your breathing. However, you were a lady.

You got to your elbows and then reached for his briefs. You cupped him, running your hands over the material. Even though the color was black, there were obvious wet spots there. Sam groaned, rolling his eyes back.

He nudged his face against you, seeking your lips without opening his eyes. You obliged, kissing him and tasting yourself on his tongue. It was a heady thing.

You did the same thing he did to you. You kissed along the corners of his mouth, his jaw, his neck, and his beautiful chest. You moaned your appreciation for his body as you climbed down his body, grabbing his briefs and tugging them down.

His dick sprang free. Slightly curved and smooth, the tip leaked with precum. You licked your lips and settled onto the side of him so you could take him in your mouth.

“Fuck, me,” he groaned.

You worked his shaft into your mouth, coating it with your saliva. As you did, you bobbed your head up and down sucking him all the way to the back of your throat. His groans spurned you on to go faster, further, wanting to hand deliver the same pleasure he did for you.

His hips started to jerk the faster you sucked him down until he was pushing at your shoulders to get up. You wiped your mouth and looked at him quizzically.

“I want to cum while I’m inside you,” he said. He gave you a dark, feral look that made your pussy throb. How was it that he was so damn gorgeous and generous on top of it? It was like you found a unicorn. Or a man built for your pleasure.

You grinned. “I’m on the pill,” you said.

He closed his eyes briefly and took a few deep breaths. “Don’t tell me that,” he said.

You kissed his thick, powerful thighs and rubbed your cheek against his legs. The tiny hairs there tickled your face but you looked up at him. “I’m on the pill,” you said again.

He groaned and then got to his knees on the bed. He kissed you, his big beautiful lips slanting against yours. He was a nasty kisser. Tongues dueling against each other, lips smacking, moaning and groaning into each other’s mouths.

He pulled you onto your knees until he positioned you on your back. He fell over you and settled in between your legs, rubbing his large dick against your inner thigh. He humped you, grinding his dick against your clit.

“Please, please, please,” you chanted.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“Hell yes, please Sam. Please, I need to feel you,” you said.

Sam grinned and went back to kissing you. He used one hand to guide himself inside you and you shared a loud groan. He was large. Stretching you to your limit.

“Fuck!” You yelled.

Sam kissed you and waited as you adjusted to his length. He slowly worked himself inside until he was able to glide more easily, aided by your essence. Once he was down to the hilt, he paused and looked into your eyes.

“Feel so fuckin’ good,” he said. He kissed you again, sweeter this time.

Slowly, he began moving. He groaned and sped up as if he couldn’t help himself. As if every slide inside of you was like climbing the staircase to heaven. Before long he was pounding inside of you, pounding you into the bed while still kissing you.

You would never get enough of kissing him. Your heart felt like it was ready to burst. He was so damn sweet and caring while being absolutely fucking nasty. You had never had sex like this. Sex that completely enveloped every inch of you and lit you on fire. Sex that made you feel seen and heard and like your pleasure came first.

He was driving your ass into the bed with the force of his thrusts. “Fuck, Sam! Fuck, Sam!” You gripped onto his forearms, nails digging into his skin.

“Hm, give me another one. Another one, beautiful,” he said.

As if your pussy responded to the command, you were squeezing him as you were cumming. You shouted, loudly, your body curling in on itself as the orgasm rolled through you and over you.

“Shit,” Sam whispered against your lips as he came. His hips were still moving to the pace he set, the momentum causing him to fuck his cum into you deeper and deeper. His dick pulsed inside, filling you completely.

“OH, fuck!” You shouted.

Sam dropped against you and you both caught your breath. He was deliciously sweaty, and all masculine energy as he laid on top of you. He leaned to one side to try and lessen his weight but you clutched his shoulders, hugging him.

“Stay, for a moment,” you said. He was the perfect size and weight to act as a weighted blanket. He laughed as he placed his weight back on top of you.

“You’re cute. And funny,” he said, nudging his goatee against your cheek.

“You’re cute and funny,” you echoed. Even after everything you shared, you were hungry for more. He seemed to have the same thought. He couldn’t stop rubbing against you. You welcomed it, not willing to leave him just yet.

He softened inside of you and then slowly pulled out. You were sad to miss the feel of him on top of you. He pecked your lips and disappeared into an adjacent bathroom. You heard the water running and then he was returning.

He placed a warm washcloth to your pussy and gently cleaned you up. He grinned as you made incoherent noises. He finished and returned the washcloth to the bathroom.

“Will you agree to stay ‘till the morning? I make a mean pancake,” he said.

“Mean, you say?” You asked. You stretched out like a fat cat, working out little kinks and tweaks from vigorous sex.

“Mean as hell. Probably got sent to jail a few times over it,” he said.

You laughed at his corny joke. He sat on the bed and waited for your answer. You smiled. “I suppose I have to see if you can back up this claim,” you said.

“Oh, I can definitely back it up,” he said.

“Oh, definitely. Someone is definitely cocky,” you said.

Sam chuckled as he helped you sit up so that he could pull the covers off of the bed. He grabbed another one from a closet in the hallway and then draped it over you. He climbed into the bed and snuggled up next to you on his side.

You talked, giggled, and kissed until the wee hours of the morning. You hated to admit it, but the pancakes were definitely mean and slamming.

Whew! Did you know I have a Sam series? Find more Sam here: The Secret Sam Wilson Files

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