𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭-𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 || helmut zemo, bucky barnes and sam wilson x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : your sugar daddy boyfriend is finally out of prison and he brought a few friends to show you off to.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : just over 4k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : smut (foursome/group sex, oral m receiving, spitroast; sliiiight dubcon???), established zemo x reader, sugar daddy relationship, ‘sir’ kink, ‘daddy’ kink, pussy spanking, one regular spank, orgasm control, overstimulation, creampie, a bit of cockwarming, exhibitionism, possessiveness (kinda? but also not at all lmao it’s hard to explain), a bit of degradation but plenty of praise as well, subtle cuckolding but without the usual power dynamics there, shitty reconstructed “sokovian” (I wrote it in the latin alphabet but the cyrillic and translations are at the end), unexpected and unnecessary fluff, very subtle angst (basically all in a flashback anyways)
You were needlessly anxious as you waited for him to arrive. It had been your own idea to wait in the jet, and yet you spent every other second glancing out the tiny window, desperate for a glance of the man you missed so dearly.
If someone had told you all those years ago, when this arrangement first began, how easily he would have you wrapped around his finger… you couldn’t have believed them. It’s just about the money, you would’ve told them, but you would’ve been impossibly wrong.
For a lot of women in this sort of situation, it really was just about the money; likewise, for a lot of men in his situation, it was just about the sex. But the two of you had something entirely unique, nearly indescribable in fact, that very few could ever understand. In the beginning it became clear to you that he was more in need of a companion than a lover or girlfriend, specifically. He was still grieving his wife, still devoted to her completely, but lonely right to his core… angry, even, at the prospect of a life without his family. You were a shoulder to cry on, first and foremost.
You thought maybe he enjoyed spending money on you because it was his way to protect you, in a way he felt he had failed to protect his family before.
And it was you that fell for him first, for his passion and his kindness before his riches or looks. Just when you feared that he’d only ever see you as a status symbol or dress-up doll, he returned your affections in spite of his guilt at first and the two of you were inseparable ever since.
Except, of course, when you were separated, and he was imprisoned, and you were left on your own again. Not that spending his money wasn’t fun or anything, but his loneliness was more sympathetic with each night you spent in that massive bed by yourself, wanting just to feel the warmth of him beside you again.
So, it should be understandable why you were so on edge in anticipation of his arrival. Your painted fingernails toyed with the hem of the dress you remembered he liked on you most— the silk one that barely covered your legs and was only held up by absurdly thin straps crossing at your back.
The night he bought it for you was clear in your mind like it was only yesterday; his voice in your ear telling you how he couldn’t resist taking such a thoughtful, intelligent woman like yourself and dressing you up like a mindless drolja… or ‘slut’ as it might be said in English. Just remembering the way he said things like that sent a shiver down your spine as strong as really hearing it, your thighs clenching together on top of the plush leather seat.
Just as you thought you might go crazy waiting for him, you saw the car pull up— your Helmut at the wheel and his two associates in tow— and your heart soared.
Longer than all the years apart combined was the minute you spent waiting to descend the jet’s staircase, hoping to meet him on the taxiway at the exact right moment. You made sure the jewelry around your wrists and neck was laying just right before finally making your appearance.
The way he looked up at you as you started to walk down towards him… it wasn’t so different from the way he’d looked at you through the glass for the past few years, really, but it felt different. He certainly looked different to you, without the prisoner’s uniform and looking rather imposing with that massive coat instead.
You were careful to still walk slowly, since you were wearing stilettos and all, even when you wanted more than anything to run to him and jump into his arms. Instead, you came face to face with him, loving that confident smirk which never seemed to leave his expression, and slipped your arms around his fur-adorned neck.
“Dobrodošla nazad, ljubavi,” you hummed, pressing your lips to his and almost letting out a squeal of surprise when he immediately slipped his tongue into your mouth, kissing you aggressively as his gloved hands gripped you at the waist.
He was rarely so bold, but then again he had been alone in prison for so long with only your words to try to satisfy him. As much as you cherished being in his arms again, you also got the impression that this wasn’t just about making up for lost time— if that were true, he would’ve skipped the kiss entirely and taken you in the back of his car the moment he saw you. No, this was a show of dominance, and not only for your benefit; that was clear when one of the men with him cleared his throat loudly and Helmut still didn’t stop.
But that was very much like him: he was never finished with you until he was satisfied, and not a moment sooner. His power over you was so effortless because you didn’t mind at all being his plaything… so much so that it was you leaning in for more when he pulled back, making him laugh softly.
“Did you miss me, lutka?” he purred, and you nodded as you bit your lip slightly.
“Always, Helmut,” you nodded, finally taking a moment to look away from him and at the visibly uncomfortable men at his side. “I heard you freed him,” you said to the man you knew to be James Barnes, “thank you.”
“I’m still not over that,” the other— Sam, as you’d heard— added with a scoff.
“Come on, darling, let’s board the jet and we can talk there,” Helmut suggested, and you nodded as you turned to let them follow.
Of course, you couldn’t be totally sure, but you were pretty confident you could feel three pairs of eyes on your ass as you climbed the stairs. Honestly, with how short the dress was, there was a risk of your thong being exposed as well, exactly the sort of almost-subtle teasing your Baron loved the most.
Once inside, Helmut showed James and Sam to their seats, and took his own as he instantly pulled you into his lap. You caught the other two men glancing to the empty fourth seat, knowing there was plenty of room for you two to stay apart, but could they really blame you after how long you’d been alone?
Throughout the takeoff, one of his strong hands rested comfortably on your crossed legs as the other held his glass of champagne, and Sam’s gaze was attached to the way his thumb gently stroked your thigh while James seemed to be doing his best to look literally anywhere else.
“I noticed you haven’t introduced us to your… friend…” Sam trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Oh, yes,” Helmut chuckled as if he actually forgot, “this is the woman who has been managing my estate in my unfortunate absence.”
“You’re trying to tell us this is your accountant?” James grumbled.
“She’s also my lover,” Helmut relented.
“Obviously,” Sam replied, unamused.
“She’s beautiful, no?” Helmut prompted as he ran his fingertips higher up your thigh, only glancing at the other men as he focused mainly on nuzzling against your neck.
“Yeah, the finest money can buy,” Sam quipped, earning a cold glare from you and your man.
“Are you with me for my money, draga?” Helmut asked you quietly as he planted a gentle kiss to the spot right where your neck met your shoulder. You smiled and shook your head, staring right at Sam’s nervous expression.
“No, sir,” you answered aloud, and the title clearly made both of the other men uncomfortable… if, perhaps, in different ways.
“Uncross your legs,” he demanded, though his tone was still soft, and you obeyed right away as he started to lightly move his touch between your thighs.
James began adjusting in his seat and never really stopped, tugging at his jeans in an obvious attempt to conceal the growing bulge between his legs, but you only laughed at his clear embarrassment.
“See how respectful she is?” he cooed his praise, addressing the other men but keeping his eyes on you. “I know exactly the words to make her obey to my every whim… James, you and her share that quality.”
The man sneered as you suppressed a giggle, squirming in Helmut’s lap impatiently.
“She’s loyal, too, unendingly dedicated,” he continued. “You know she visited me weekly in Munich, at the very least? Always by my side… like any good pet.”
A whimper escaped your throat at that term, your gut burning with need as he balanced praise and degradation effortlessly. You didn’t find it truly demeaning only because you loved being his plaything so much, and because you knew mutual respect was at the core of your relationship with him. But, still, it was nice to feel small when he was there to keep you safe.
James watched with a small snarl and Helmut slipped his hand into your panties, and Sam licked his lips but shifted his stare to your face instead, just as your eyes started to roll back and your head fell weakly on Helmut’s shoulder.
“And such a precious little pussy as well,” he added darkly, giving you a spank between your legs to make you choke on a squeal. “Sweet, delicate… much like a Turkish delight, but even more addictive.”
“Please, sir,” you whispered under your breath.
“You want more, don’t you? Tako očajno…” he chuckled. You nodded, already starting to soak through the lace and rock your hips. “You want to be fucked, yes?”
“Yes,” you moaned.
“Be polite and take care of our guests first, draga,” he encouraged, kissing your neck one more time before releasing you from his embrace.
Although you were most interested in being with the man you loved, you were happy to obey whatever he wished— and, frankly, sinking to your knees on the jet’s carpeted floor to crawl towards James wasn’t exactly lacking in its own appeal.
James’ eyes narrowed as Sam’s widened, and you sat up between the spread, denim-clad thighs as you blinked up at him and licked your lips.
He tensed up slightly as your hands delicately slid up his legs, his Adam's apple bobbing with a dry swallow when you grabbed his belt buckle and began to open it.
“You… you don’t have to…” he mumbled, apparently too distracted to finish his sentence.
“Yes I do,” you denied. “Because he told me to.”
Sam winced and looked away as you unzipped James’ fly and pulled his jeans and boxers down to expose his cock, already hard and leaking a bit from the tip. You smiled proudly, but chose not to tease him for his eagerness and instead just get right to work; you gripped him at the base and gave a few kitten licks over his shaft, savoring the taste of his precum and looking up at his expression that was equal parts shocked and sultry.
You only spent a moment suckling on the head before skipping right ahead and deepthroating him all the way to base.
“Oh, fuck,” James choked, reaching up grab the seat behind his head as his back arched, making you want to smile though you thankfully kept it down.
“Well-trained, isn’t she?” Helmut interjected proudly.
“Y-yeah,” he answered, his other hand grabbing your shoulder tightly as you began to bob your head.
Occasionally, in your peripheral, you caught Sam looking, and it made you wiggle your hips with the desire to rub your throbbing clit against the floor.
You got a chance to breathe whenever you pulled back to suck the head and stroke the rest with your hand, and in a few minutes you had already found all the little spots that made him moan the loudest, or made his legs quiver a bit by your sides.
“Stop,” Helmut instructed, and you were already starting to pull off when James hissed and grabbed your head to hold you down.
“N-no, please,” he blurted out.
“She’ll come back to you but Sam is looking rather lonely in the corner over there,” Helmut explained, and James hesitated but let you go. You wiped your lips and started to move towards Sam, but he shook his head.
“I don’t roll like that, man,” Sam explained, “I don’t want her doing it just because you said so.”
“Darling, won’t you tell us how badly you want to service your new friends?” Helmut challenged, and you swallowed nervously because you were a bit embarrassed to say too much and potentially anger him. But the sparkle in his eyes didn’t seem like he was leading you into a trap… even if the other two men were confident that was what it meant. “You find them attractive, don’t you?”
“Um, yes, sir,” you answered hesitantly, “I… saw them, and I wanted to know what their cocks looked like. And tasted like.”
Helmut smiled and leaned forward, giving you a spank of approval through your dress (which was riding up to show most of your butt anyways).
You looked at Sam expectantly. “May I please suck your cock, Mr. Wilson?”
His eyes darkened and you knew you were on the right track. “What happened to ‘sir’?” he asked coyly.
“I only call Helmut ‘sir,’” you explained, “but I could call you something else.”
His finger curled to encourage you to come closer and you crawled up to sit between his legs.
“Call me ‘daddy,’” he finally instructed, opening his belt and pants for you.
“Yes, daddy,” you nodded, keeping your mouth slack for him to push his cock into. You hummed as the head slid over your tongue, looking up at him as he bit his lip and thrust back into your throat.
“Shit, that’s good,” he whispered, guiding your head at the speed he wanted. “Who taught you how to suck cock so good, baby?”
Helmut raised his hand and James snorted.
Sam was a bit longer but he was still no challenge to swallow all the way down, and you heard him breathing through his teeth but let your eyes fall shut to focus on your work.
“Is this… how you treat all your guests?” Sam asked tensely between heavy breaths.
“Only those who are at the right place at the right time,” Helmut answered cryptically, but you happened to know this sort of occasion was incredibly rare. Although it might seem counterintuitive to some, this was his way to re-stake his claim over you, and after so much time apart apparently he felt he had a lot to prove. “Keep going, but don’t let him come,” another instruction echoed from behind you.
You pulled back to stroke Sam’s length while you croaked: “yes, sir.”
Helmut had you go back and forth for a while, keeping both men on edge and occasionally allowing you to stroke one while you sucked the other, your own need growing so quickly as you dreamed to have something inside you, anything really.
Obviously, he knew exactly how much having a cock down your throat made you wet and desperate. And he knew that such a taboo act of, in a certain sense, breaking fidelity with a man as he not only watched but commanded you to do it would get you right on the edge in no time.
He had gotten in your head so quickly after meeting you, memorized everything that made you tick, and not once had he forgotten.
“I-I’m close,” James warned as you sucked his head, making you slide the tip of your tongue over his slit before you took a break to suck his swollen balls into your mouth. “Fuck, can I come?”
“Not yet,” Helmut instructed sternly.
You felt him tug you back and into his lap suddenly, and he quickly yanked your dress down to expose your breasts to the men in front of you.
“Her tits are hard, no?” Helmut prompted them, and you watched them both nod as a warm hand reached around from behind you to tweak your hardened nipples. “Yes, she really loves to get on her knees and choke on cock. I’d let her do the same to me but I have greater plans for her…”
As if it weren’t obvious what those plans were, he pulled your skirt up to your waist as well, spreading your legs and pulling your flimsy panties aside.
“Is she wet?” he asked the men and they nodded again.
“Drenched,” Sam chimed in.
Helmut gave another spank to your clit as you shuddered, then rubbing slowly as if to soothe the sting. “I’ll teach you what happens when you get wet for another man, little girl,” Helmut growled against your ear, “not to mention two. And they’re Americans, do you have no shame?”
“I’m sorry, sir,” you whispered.
“No, you have nothing to be sorry for,” he corrected. “I love seeing you act like a whore all for me.”
You hadn’t even realized he’d taken his cock out of his trousers until you felt the thick tip of him prodding at your entrance. It was already a lot just by itself, but then you had these strangers staring at you and for some reason it only turned you on more.
That ‘some’ reason of course being that you loved your Baron taking ownership over you for anyone to see. Clearly, prison had given him much more creative ideas than just fucking on a balcony or against the glass of a window.
“Are you ready for me?” he asked in a hushed voice against your skin which seemed to be burning hot all of a sudden.
“Yes, sir,” you whispered.
It took a lot not to cry out as he pulled you down and filled you in one deep stroke, your nails digging into the leather of the chair’s armrests at either side. But more than the sting of pain it felt so perfect, so fundamentally right, and just after your gasp of shock was a sigh of relief.
He sighed along with you and let his forehead fall between your shoulder blades, clearly a bit overwhelmed at being inside you again for the first time in so long. “Draga...” he breathed, “not that I ever doubted… but you must have been faithful to me; you’re so tight, I know no one has touched you since I left.”
“Only you, sir, nobody but you,” you agreed breathlessly, eyes falling shut.
He kissed your back as he started to move your body on top of his, the hands at your waist tightening and tugging on the remaining fabric of your dress. “Tako dobro,” he hissed, “you feel so good, darling, you can’t imagine how long I spent dreaming of being inside you again.”
A tear rolled down your cheek, and it would be impossible to say for sure what caused it— a little bit of everything, really.
Opening your eyes and noticing the way they were staring at you, you leaned forward and took each of the other men’s hard cocks in your hands, stroking in time with the way you bounced your hips on top of Helmut’s.
The both of them had been on the edge for a bit too long, Sam already biting his lip as James thrust himself up into your palm.
“Fuck, please,” James moaned, “I need to come in your mouth.”
“Come closer then,” you breathed, watching him stand up and bring his cock right to your lips which you eagerly gagged on, any pretense long gone as you sloppily sucked and stroked while Helmut thrust up to slam into you.
“Ohh, fuck, that’s it— gonna come,” he grunted as he reached up to press his hand against the ceiling of the jet, and it all must have hit him rather unexpectedly since the moment his musky taste began to coat your tongue, you heard a clanging sound and realized he had pushed up so hard that he bent the steel interior, his other hand tightening into a fist in your hair.
You moaned happily as you swallowed every drop, still sucking even as James’ moans became loud and higher in pitch.
“Fuck, don’t stop, oh god,” he whined, cock throbbing even after he stopped filling your throat with come. You reached between his legs and squeezed his balls a bit and you could tell his knees nearly buckled, causing him to finally pull back and tilt your chin up to stare down at you. “You’re somethin’ else,” he panted, taking a moment to catch his breath before falling back and slumping into his chair.
You looked over at Sam and saw his hand was still lazily guiding yours to stroke over his cock although come already painted his abs and dripped down from his swollen head over your fingers. “Can I clean up your mess, please, daddy?” you asked, voice a bit hoarse though you couldn’t be sure if that was from the deepthroating or just how hard Helmut was fucking you now.
Pulling your hand back, Sam’s eyes followed as you lapped the thick, hot come from your hand, moaning openly at the taste. You sucked your fingers down into your throat, not leaving a drop behind.
He leaned back in his chair and began to catch his breath, both of them now staring at you with that exhausted, glazed-over expression. They looked satisfied, and you considered it your reward for a job well done.
"A belly full of come and a pussy full of my cock, you must be feeling ecstatic," Helmut presumed.
"Yes, sir," you agreed quickly.
All at once he began to fuck you faster, harder, deeper which you hadn't even realized was an option. He growled a string of the filthiest curses in your ear, in Sokovian so the other men wouldn’t understand, with one hand wrapped around your neck as the other pinched your clit almost too roughly. Even in your native language you could barely understand it: how could you when he was so deep inside you?
“Will you come, draga?” he finally asked, voice rough with his own desperation.
“Not until you let me, sir,” you moaned, and he chuckled a bit.
But wow, the way he rubbed your clit was impossible to ignore, like he was trying to make your promise impossible to keep. You tightened your jaw, moaning through your teeth now as you fought to keep your orgasm at bay.
“Please sir, I need to come, please— so close, I’m so close,” you mewled.
“I won’t be much longer, either,” he warned. "Too long without you has taken its toll, I need to finish."
“Inside me, sir, please,” you begged, “come inside me.”
You felt him nod against the back of your neck. “Come for me,” he instructed simply, and as obedient as ever, you felt your walls pulsing as pleasure overtook you. Not even meaning to, you threw your head back, and he had to hold you tightly to keep you from shaking too violently as the waves of sensation washed over you.
The heat of him spilling inside you warmed you from the inside out, making you smile happily through the fog of your high and intentionally tighten your walls around him. He hissed and throbbed within you, his fingers digging into your hips now as he held you down against him.
He gave a few more lazy thrusts until finally slowing to a stop, both of you catching your breath eventually.
"My... accountant will be keeping my cock warm for the remainder of the flight," Helmut informed the other men, "I hope you don't mind?
"No, no, go ahead," James approved as his head fell back against his chair.
It was still quite a ways to your final destination so it wasn't much of a surprise that you ended up falling asleep in the Baron's arms, something you used to do every night that had been only a dream for years. Perhaps this afternoon wasn't the reunion you expected, but it was somehow even more perfect than you could've ever wished for.
𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 || helmut zemo, bucky barnes and sam wilson x reader
(this is a sequel to 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭-𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞, I recommend reading that first although it’s not 100% necessary... it would make this make a lot more sense though)
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : it was just a matter of time before he upped the ante, all four of you knew that, but taking you all on a vacation specifically for this was a bit over-the-top.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 7.9k (hoo boy)
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : smut (foursome/group sex + a scene that’s just zemo/reader, cockwarming, d/s dynamics, brief oral f receiving, a touch of dubcon/cnc but it’s very subtle and the reader is 100% consenting), established zemo x reader, sugar daddy relationship, ‘sir’ kink (with zemo), ‘daddy’ kink (with sam), orgasm control/denial, overstimulation, creampie, praise with light degradation, possessiveness (but also sharing, lol), exhibitionism/voyeurism, choking, brief anal mention, once again technically cuckolding but not in the typical sense, slight corruption kink?, too many robes, latin sokovian (or as I like to call it, serbukromanian), also assume that whenever the reader and zemo are alone they are speaking sokovian even though I write the convos in english for the sake of simplicity
thank you for being my beta @nsfwsebbie !!
When your Baron told you he wanted to take you on a vacation, you immediately assumed it would be to the mountains or some European city full of history and culture. Instead, you were a bit surprised to hear he was interested in a beach resort, a private villa he had purchased in French Polynesia.
And then you found out he wanted to bring Sam and Bucky along too… and you were simultaneously more and less surprised. More, because who brings tentative coworkers one barely gets along with on a romantic vacation? Less, because of course he would do this. Of course he had plans to dress you up in the tiniest bikinis he could find and show you off to the men who had already become pawns in his perverted game of social chess.
Not that you minded; you were the Queen of the board and it didn’t bother you if it was what the King wanted.
You spent the first night in the villa alone with him, which you appreciated. It had been a while since you two had some real quality time together, and you were craving him more than ever, in every way.
After a beautiful day spent swimming in the crystal blue ocean and enjoying the sights your new temporary home had to offer, you took a shower and tried not to get too excited about how you might be spending the evening with him. But, of course, you were only a few minutes into washing the saltwater off your body when you began to imagine his tongue on you, god that man could use his tongue to destroy you any way he wanted: with his words, with his kisses, or perhaps best of all with it tasting every inch of your cunt. It was amazing how he could get on his knees for you and still have all the power. He liked to make you keep eye contact with him while he did it, make you beg him to let you come, whatever it took to remind you that you were thoroughly and properly owned.
And you loved every second of it, you loved being helpless to him. He made you feel so safe that being vulnerable with him by now felt like no risk at all. You could remember early on when your fears and insecurities made you more hesitant to submit to him, and it was only with gentle patience that he coaxed you into it, never pressure or anger. You weren’t a virgin when you met him but, sometimes it felt like you might as well have been since you were so inexperienced and undersexed then. In fact, he was the first man, the first person other than yourself to make you come… and he made you come more ways than you had known possible.
Okay, so maybe the plan to not get your hopes up wasn’t going so well… you were already struggling to keep your hands from between your legs. Frankly, you would’ve already done it if you didn’t know that touching yourself was against the rules.
You’d gotten so used to taking care of yourself while he was in prison, at which point he obviously suspended that rule, and it was a hard habit to break at times.
You emerged from the bathroom in the fluffy robe you found on the door, smiling when you saw him lounging on the bed in a matching one, reading Анна Каренина (known by the West as Anna Karenina). He looked contemplative, as always, and you always thought he looked especially sexy in his reading glasses. You slipped into the bed beside him, resting your head on his chest as he found a position where he could read comfortably with his arm around your shoulders.
“You must’ve already read that book a thousand times, Helmut,” you sighed.
“And it gets better every time,” he mumbled back, turning the page.
You pouted slightly, nuzzling into his shoulder, and he chuckled. “Is my little lutka in need of some attention?”
You nodded, and he kissed the top of your head softly.
“Why don’t you keep me warm while I finish this chapter, hm?” he offered, and you involuntarily clenched your thighs together at his words. He phrased it like a question, but it felt more like a gentle demand, and you were happy to agree either way.
“Yes, sir,” you hummed as you sat up and straddled his legs, undoing your robe and opening his to wrap your hand around his half-hard cock.
He reached his full potential with only a few slow strokes, and you found yourself absent-mindedly licking your lips as you saw the way your fingers just barely met with your thumb and imagined how your body would be pushed to its limits to take him. Good thing you were already dripping wet even though you’d just been in the shower.
You indulged in rubbing your pussy over his shaft for a moment, enough to coat him in your wetness, before you lined up his tip to your entrance and sunk down onto him with a sigh, feeling like you could never tire of being stretched open by his thick cock.
When your hips met his, and the tip of his cock brushed against the deepest parts of you, you had to bite your lip to suppress a whimper. After so long apart, you were still readjusting to taking him and being on top didn’t make it much easier.
Honestly, you really weren’t trying to move; you just found your hips rocking slightly, seemingly of their own accord. You moaned under your breath as your clit rubbed against his body, but you were pulled from your trance with a whine as he slapped your thigh.
“No moving, draga, I think I made myself clear,” he reminded you sternly.
“Yes, sir,” you breathed.
You were pretty sure that at some point, you were a patient person. But you couldn’t imagine that now, not when all you could think about was how amazing it would be to just ride him right there, memories running through your mind and making your inner walls ripple unintentionally. He either couldn’t feel it or didn’t care, stoically continuing to read even as you were struggling to stay still.
Your plan was to be good for a while and then hope that you could convince him later… but you know what they say about best-laid plans, so you ended up cutting straight to the convincing pretty fast.
“Can I move yet, sir?”
“It’s hardly been a minute,” he frowned.
“Please,” you sighed, just barely moving your hips without even meaning to.
“Not yet,” he asserted, sounding a bit annoyed, but you needed this more than anything.
"Please let me move, please; I just wanna ride you so bad,” you begged.
He sighed, clearly irritated, and just when you thought you’d made a grave error, he finally put his book aside and looked up at you with a grin. "If I had known you would be so whiny, I would have had you keep me warm with your mouth.”
You opened your mouth to respond but let out only whimpery moans when he ran his hands up your body, toying briefly with your nipples before wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling you down into a rough kiss. Moaning into it, you couldn’t hold back any longer and started to rock your body atop his, savoring that perfect drag of his length along your walls that you’d missed so much.
Before you got a chance to really set your pace, he grabbed you tight and rolled the both of you over, pinning you under his weight as he fucked you in that way that was somehow rough and slow at the same time, moving his kiss to your neck and holding you down by your wrists.
“Fuck, th-thank you, sir,” you sighed, your cheeks warming when he chuckled against your skin.
“You really are too sweet, draga,” he whispered.
Your arms wrapped around his neck while your legs did the same to his hips, keeping him deep inside you while his lips and tongue teased your collarbones, his fingers interlacing with yours.
He spent the entire night somewhere between making love to you and fucking you within an inch of your life, making you come more times than you could count, only taking breaks from fucking you to eat you out like a starving man (and one time for a quick drink sometime around 3 a.m.). It was no wonder, then, that you passed out just a few moments after he finally came inside you, sleeping soundly in his arms until well into the morning, nearly noon in fact, when the sun was streaming in through the massive window.
After a relaxed breakfast of champagne and fruit (the native pamplemousse was unlike anything you’d ever eaten before), Helmut encouraged you to shower again and meet him at the pool, which was a bit surprising since he normally liked to have you keep his come in you as long as possible. “Our guests should be here this afternoon,” was his only explanation, and you had a few ideas about what that meant, all of which made your gut sink in an oddly pleasurable way as you were filled with anticipation.
“Wear that bathing suit I bought for you, the new one,” he added finally as he stepped out onto the back patio.
It might seem silly to have a pool on a property right by the beach, but on days like today, where the ocean water was just a bit too chilly, you were thankful to have the heated pool to take a dip in. Honestly, you were a little surprised that Helmut didn’t make you swim in the ocean to see your nipples get hard through the tight black bikini, but then again, they were already getting there just from sharing a pool chair with him.
He was lying against the cushioned chair; your body sat between his spread legs as the back of your head rested on his chest. And, this is entirely unrelated, but you really liked how he looked in the round sunglasses he had on.
You hummed contentedly as you reached up behind you to touch him, rubbing his shoulders and pecs. You wiggled a bit, slowly, and imagined how it would feel if he got hard right against the small of your back.
"Mm, what's gotten into you, lutka?" he purred, rubbing your arms.
You rolled your eyes playfully. "You know the effect you have on me, don't act surprised."
Just before anything exciting could happen, Sam and James entered through the fence, apparently already having changed into their swimsuits; you wished you had thought to wear sunglasses so they couldn’t catch you ogling their muscular bodies, but instead, you just tried to keep your cool as you waved hello.
“Welcome!” Helmut called out, both of you getting up to greet them properly. “I hope your flight was alright…?”
“Yeah, it was great,” Sam nodded, “thanks.”
“You really own this whole place?” James added, glancing around.
“Yes, would you like to have a swim? I hear it should be warm enough tomorrow for the ocean, but until then…” Helmut trailed off.
Sam went right ahead, diving in and smiling wide when he popped back up. That man had such an infectious smile, you thought he should charge people to see it or something because you felt spoiled seeing it for free.
James jumped in behind him but seemed a little surprised when he returned to the surface to see you back in your chair with Helmut. “Care to join us?” he asked you.
“Um, no, I already swam a bit this morning,” you remembered, suddenly shy, “I think I’ll stay by the pool a while longer.”
“Aw, I was looking forward to getting to know you better,” he pouted, and everyone else raised an eyebrow at that statement. “Um, verbally, I mean,” he added, cheeks flushing slightly.
“What would you want to know?” you asked, sighing as you relaxed against Helmut’s chest.
“Well, what’s your story?” he shrugged, swimming up the edge of the pool to hang his arms over the edge.
“I… suppose it’s a rather short story,” you realized, “I was born in Sokovia, but my parents were immigrants. I was a bit of an ugly duckling as a child, I think.”
“You look like quite the swan now,” James winked, and you hoped Helmut wouldn’t notice how much that affected you.
“Oh, thank you,” you mumbled.
“Which reminds me, that’s a cute bikini you have on,” he complimented.
“Do you like it?” you hummed coyly. “Helmut picked it out.”
“Why don’t you give them a better look, darling?” Helmut prompted, and Sam swam up to hang over the edge too as you stood up and fought the urge to cover yourself with your arms. The Baron motioned his finger in a circle, silently instructing you to twirl so they could see the back, and you did though you felt a bit self-conscious about it. Finally, once you were sure they’d had an eyeful, he let you sit back down in his lap.
“Cute, isn’t it?” he cooed as his fingers travelled slowly up your sides. “It’s Chanel.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Sam dismissed, unlatching himself from the edge of the pool and falling into a backstroke. “This is weird. I just wanna swim.”
“You didn’t think this was seriously a free vacation, no strings attached, did you?” James shot back, getting up out of the pool and shaking some of the water off of himself before sitting down in the chair beside you two and letting his eyes wander over you. “So, Chanel, huh?” he prompted, and you nodded.
“Helmut says I should only wear the nicest things,” you explained, sitting up slightly.
“Why does it matter? You’d look beautiful in anything,” James cooed, and you felt a little dirty for how much you liked his attention. Good thing you liked feeling dirty.
“And a rare wagyu steak would taste just as good served any way, but you wouldn’t put it on a paper plate, now would you?” Helmut countered. “Well, maybe you would…”
James rolled his eyes but brushed off Helmut’s insult, returning his attention to you. “I guess I’m just… hungry enough that it doesn’t make much of a difference.”
You reached up to trace your fingertip over the silver chain dangling off of his neck, biting your lip as you hooked your finger around it and pulled him closer. “Are you hungry enough that you don’t mind that it’s another man’s meal?”
His blue eyes went wide for a moment before glancing down to your lips and back up to your unwavering gaze, your brow raised as if a challenge while his furrowed as if he were considering accepting it.
“If he’s willing to share…” James whispered back.
“Then kiss me,” you requested softly, pulling him closer by his dog tags one more time until your lips met.
The way James kissed you was… difficult to describe. Gentle, but with this edge of intensity— like he was restraining himself, like there was so much more passion teeming beneath the surface. You wanted to bring that out if you could; you wanted to see how far you could push him until he lost it.
As James carefully ventured his tongue into your mouth, only to pull back and nip your bottom lip with his teeth, Helmut kissed you too— on the back of your neck, that spot that always made you wet and desperate right away. You moaned, and you couldn’t be sure exactly who it was for, but James sure decided to respond to it either way, tilting his head more to let his kiss explore you deeper.
Helmut’s teeth dug into your shoulder right as James nipped at your bottom lip like they had somehow explicitly coordinated to make you desperate; your right hand reached up to weave into James’ hair, your left squeezing Helmut’s wrist at your side.
The kiss ended just a moment too soon, and there was a delay before you blinked your eyes open to look back at James, who seemed quite proud of himself.
“Touch me,” you pleaded in a whimper.
“Where?” he asked, somewhat innocently.
“Y-you know where…” you mumbled.
He grinned wide, all trance of innocence gone. “I know, but I want you to say it.”
“My cunt,” you whispered, and he snarled just a bit at the word. “Please?”
“Of course, which one do you want?” James prompted with a grin, showing you his hands as your eyes instantly gravitated to the metal one.
“I think you know which I’m going to choose,” you mumbled shyly, and he smirked as he reached forward with the vibranium arm to brush his fingertips over your stomach, moving down to the top hemline of your bikini bottom.
You just barely gasped when the metal digits swiped over your clit and began to rub gentle circles, almost too slow as if he wanted to tease you… which, of course, he did.
"Do you like the way he touches you, draga?" Helmut whispered. His voice in your ear was like honey on your tongue, like honey everywhere.
"Yes, sir," you nodded, looking down at James' hand buried into your bikini.
"Hey, tell me you like it, too," James protested, "I'm the one doing it after all."
"I like it, James," you repeated, looking up at him. "I… don't have a title for you. Should I call you something when you touch me like this?"
"You can just call me Bucky from now on, okay? I think we're well past close enough now for that."
"Okay, Bucky," you sighed, watching the way his jaw clenched when you called him by name, "please put your fingers inside me."
"Yes, please," you breathed.
"But my fingers are thick, they're hard metal, and you're so small and delicate…"
"I want them to stretch me out, just please—"
A loud moan of shock jumped out of your mouth when he pushed the fingers in all at once, and though it reawakened some of the soreness from when Helmut had fucked you the night before, it felt wonderful enough to make your back arch up from the strong body behind you, his erection now digging into your hip.
It was certainly loud enough to get Sam's attention, who suddenly appeared beside the chair while he towelled off his chiselled chest.
"Damn, what are y'all doing to her over here?" he wondered aloud as if he were concerned for your health.
"Just playing with Zemo's little doll," Bucky answered. "She's really fucking tight, can barely fit two fingers."
"Wait, move over, let me see," Sam insisted, making Bucky pull his fingers out and Helmut holding you more firmly as Sam slipped his hand into your bikini as well, poking his fingers at your entrance before pushing them in.
His fingers were even thicker and longer than Bucky's, just by a slight margin yet enough to make you mewl and arch your back as your eyes fluttered shut.
"Fuck, yeah, you were right," Sam breathed, and you felt more hands running over your body but you couldn't even tell anymore whose they were; you knew one that reached to pull up your bikini top and expose your breasts was Helmut's, because only he would be so bold, but the fingers teasing your nipples, the rough palm running up your legs… they could've belonged to anyone, and that realization made your clit throb.
"Okay, okay, that's enough. I was here first," Bucky mumbled as you felt Sam's fingers slip out and the metal ones push back in— not to mention the thumb reaching up to circle your clit slowly.
He wasn't just exploring you this time; you could tell he had a mission. The way he instantly curled into your spot, the way he moved quickly yet deliberately, all made your thighs begin to quiver.
Helmut kissed your ear, gently tilting your head to access your neck better where he began to suck hard enough to leave a mark, mumbling something in Sokovian about how good you were being for him and his guests.
You loved being good, and the praise made your hips lift a little so you could rock yourself onto Bucky's fingers; the three men chuckled proudly.
"Feels that good?" Bucky pressed, and you nodded quickly.
He fingered you even faster, harder, and you cried out.
"Ohhh fuck, Bucky!" you gasped. "Bucky, I'm gonna come!"
"Oh no, you're not," Helmut groaned, giving you a quick spank on the inner thigh as you whined and jolted. "James, take your fingers out."
"Do I have to?"
"You do if you want a chance to fill her with more than just your fingers…"
That worked right away, Bucky pulling back as you pouted at being empty again.
“Let’s take her inside, and we can continue this there,” Helmut suggested, and Bucky lifted you up into his arms as the Baron led the group back to the master suite.
The convenient thing about bathing suits is that it takes so little time to get naked, which is why the second the patio door was shut, Bucky and Sam were stripping as their hard cocks bobbed up against their stomachs. As if that weren’t overwhelming enough, Helmut stepped away for a moment (which left you feeling more alone than usual) just as the men began to help you strip; Sam untied the back of your bikini while Bucky knelt and pulled down the bottoms, leaving you feeling exposed as you were totally bare before them. Bucky smiled up at you and kissed along your thighs while Sam grabbed a handful of your ass and growled a bit under his breath.
When you looked over at Helmut, you saw he had actually dressed in his robe rather than stripping, nearly making you whine with disappointment. But you couldn’t focus on that long as hands moved all over your skin, both of them still just slightly wet from the pool, and you shivered for both of those reasons.
You gasped when Bucky suddenly licked a thick stripe right over your folds, and if it weren’t for Sam’s arms holding you up, you might not have been able to stay standing.
Looking down at where Bucky was devouring you, he looked back up at you with a lot less dominating intensity in his eyes than you were used to seeing. Not that you minded; after all, no one could do what Helmut did as well as he could, but maybe Bucky could do something different, and it would be just as enjoyable. His tongue lapping at your clit was certainly wonderful so far.
Sam guided one of your hands back behind you to stroke his cock, your mouth falling slack, which he took advantage of by turning your face and capturing you in an open-mouthed kiss. You heard your moans stifle against his tongue, felt his cock flex a bit as you smeared the precum you found at his tip.
“I think that’s enough for now,” Helmut interrupted, and everyone turned to look at him. “Darling, come here,” he instructed with a curled finger that pointed to the bed, “hands and knees.”
You nodded and pushed the other men away, taking your place on the bed and looking up at him as he held your jaw gently.
"How long has it been since you had another man inside you, lutka?" he asked lowly.
"I can't even remember,” you admitted, “it's been so long…"
“Are you willing to try it?” he asked gently, no hint of domination or pressure in his tone, and you found yourself searching his eyes for the right answer.
“What do you want?” you asked him instead of answering.
“Draga, I’m asking what you want,” he reminded you, but you were afraid he would be hurt if you showed interest in the other men. Sure, previous evidence indicated that wasn’t an issue for him, but your gut instinct was to deny your attraction. So, you compromised.
“All I want is you,” you answered first, “but…”
“But is it awful if… if I want them to fuck me, too?”
He smiled, kissing your forehead. “No, I don’t think so. Only as awful as it is that I want to watch them fuck you.”
You looked up at him and smiled back, brimming with gratitude that he was so gentle with you. It was fascinating how he wielded complete control over you and yet never used it against you.
“I have one rule, draga,” he added firmly, “you cannot come for them. You only come for me. Do you understand?”
“And stay on your hands and knees, so I can always get a good look at you, yes?”
He kissed you one more time before pulling away and sitting back in the chair in the corner with his ankle over his knee, looking at Sam and Bucky expectantly. Every chair he sat in seemed to look like a throne as soon as he was in it.
“Well, get on with it, then,” he instructed, motioning to you. The men looked at you and looked at each other before some kind of silent agreement took place and Bucky stepped up first. Sam sat down to watch you as you felt Bucky stand near the bed behind you, flesh and metal fingers running over your back until you shivered.
Then he pressed his cock against you, coating himself in your wetness, and that made you shiver, too.
You braced yourself as he lined himself up, whimpering slightly as he pushed his cock into you as well as hearing him moan lowly. The hand at your waist tightened as he hissed in a breath through his teeth.
"Fuck," he breathed, holding you still so he could fill you completely. “S’tight…” he slurred.
“How does it feel for you?” Helmut asked you, raising an eyebrow as he examined your expression, your mouth fallen slack, yet your brow furrowed.
“It feels… different,” you stammered your answer. You gasped loudly as Bucky started to move, and yes, this was very different. His cock was curved differently and though it didn’t exactly reach any new parts of you (you were sure Helmut had already touched every part of you physically accessible), it did stroke them in new ways.
He gained speed rather quickly, clearly too on edge himself to stay patient, and you didn’t blame him although it sent you moving faster toward the edge than you would’ve liked. At first you wondered if it would even be a challenge to keep from coming like Helmut had demanded… you chided yourself internally for ever being so hubristic.
His legs pushed yours apart, spreading them wider, and he began to really fuck you in earnest, fast and needy and each slam of his hips against your ass harder than ever. “O-oh fuck,” you choked, forcing your eyes shut and scrunching up your nose for a second when he slammed the tip of his cock right into the deepest spots inside you. This position left you with nowhere to go, put your whole body on display for him along with giving you no escape from his onslaught of pleasure. Worst of all was that you were pretty sure he wasn’t even trying that hard to make you feel good, and yet feeling used like that only turned you on more.
"Bucky, please, slow down," you whimpered.
"Absolutely do not do that," Helmut interjected sternly. "Don't let her tell you what to do."
And, possibly just to spite you, he actually fucked you faster. You sobbed and bit down on your lip, fighting everything building up inside you.
“You’d better not come,” Helmut warned through his teeth, “you’d better not fucking come. You know how bad it would be for you if you came for another man.”
“Y-yes, sir,” you nodded.
But Bucky was slamming right into your spot, and he knew it, too. He knew how desperate you were becoming, and apparently, he didn’t mind at all that you’d be punished for it. He leaned down to growl against your ear, “I know how close you are. Don’t you think it’d feel so good to just let go and come on my cock?”
You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks as the force it took to hold back your orgasm became painful. “No, it would only feel good to come for Helmut…”
“C’mon baby, just stop fighting it and come for me,” Bucky taunted, “squeeze me tight with that sweet little pussy; I know you need to so bad.”
He wasn’t wrong, but you blinked with teary eyes up at Helmut and wanted nothing more than to please him and make him proud of you. “Please, m-make him stop,” you begged, “I won’t be able to hold back anymore…”
“He’s not going to stop until he comes, lutka, and you need to stay strong,” he explained, his voice soothing you slightly. “You need to be my good girl. Can you do that?”
“Yes, sir,” you whispered.
Bucky held your hips tight as he pulled your body back onto his cock, and you forced your eyes shut to try to focus on not coming. No other man had made you come in your life but Helmut, and you had no intentions of breaking that streak.
“Think you can make me come before I make you come?” Bucky challenged.
“I have to,” you answered breathlessly. “And I want you to come… I wanna make you come so bad, Bucky, please…”
“Mhmm?” he encouraged.
“Please, I want it, please come for me,” you whimpered.
“Fuck, I will,” he promised darkly, fucking you even harder.
Helmut interjected a brief instruction: “Pull out.”
Bucky nodded a little, breathing heavily as you felt his cock throb slightly, especially at the base where each movement stretched you out even more. It was so beautifully erotic and you were tensing every muscle inside you to try not to come, which helped speed him up quite a bit since you were gripping him so tight.
“Fuck,” Bucky grunted, “fuck!”
He pulled out and instantly painted your back with a roar, sliding his cock over your ass as he pumped stream after stream of come onto you. You sighed happily, satisfied that you had managed to stave off orgasm with perhaps only a few seconds to spare— you’d never been so happy to make someone come before because this time it brought relief that you had done well for your Baron.
Then again, you always felt that way when you made the man himself come, but this was different because you had been moments away from failing him.
Speaking of the Baron, he stared down at you proudly the whole time, kneeling down slightly to swipe his finger through the cooling spend on your back and bring it to your open lips. “Mm, you really are my perfect little girl,” he mumbled as you sucked his finger diligently. But he turned his attention away from you to call out across the room, “Sam! It’s your turn.”
Your eyes went wide. “W-wait, Helmut, I’ll come!”
“No, you won’t,” he hissed, eyes darkening again, “because I told you not to.”
And Sam was already behind you, taking Bucky’s place who had already cleaned himself up a bit and returned to his seat, letting the Baron pour him a drink which he gulped down in one go.
When Sam pushed into the end of you, your natural instinct was to arch your back up to try to keep him from going too deep, but he growled and pushed your back down again with a strong hand that made you feel so small for a moment. “No, baby, no running away… you’re gonna take it all.”
“Yes, daddy,” you breathed, yelping a little when he roughly shoved in that last inch.
From then on, he went much harder on you than Bucky had, spanking you and gripping your ass while he fucked you, and the most embarrassing part was how much harder it made it to keep from coming. It was clear that he realized making you come would give him power over everyone else in the room for different reasons, and he was determined to gain that power.
“Does he fuck you this good, huh?” he groaned.
“He fucks me better,” you shot back right away, making Helmut chuckle slightly.
“If your plan is to make her switch allegiances, you’ll have to do better than that,” Helmut taunted, and Sam doubled his efforts as one hand pinched your clit and the other groped your breast. You almost lost it right there but managed to pull yourself together, your whole body shaking with the effort to keep the pleasure at bay.
“Well, if he can fuck you better then why doesn’t he?” Sam continued his leading questions, even though you could barely keep up a conversation at this point. “Why does he keep pimping you out to us if he’s fucking you right all on his own?”
“Don’t you understand?” you breathed, your head falling down onto the bed as you were almost able to look back enough to see his face. “This is my punishment. He knows I don’t want anyone else; that’s why you’re here.”
Sam smiled, perhaps in pity, and yet you honestly had to close your eyes because his smile was so lovely that it could’ve brought an end to your restraint. “Poor thing, he’s really got you whipped. I… still can’t believe I’m doing this, but you feel too good to stop now.”
He yanked your head back by your hair for emphasis, making you yelp as he fucked you brutally. Your toes curled and your fingers dug into the sheets, and you had to close your eyes because the way Helmut was staring at you made this all much too difficult. Maybe it was just that he didn’t seem jealous at all, or angry; but he didn’t seem like he was getting any excess pleasure out of this, either. It was… almost neutral, but something burned behind his eyes brighter than maybe you’d ever seen it, his legs crossed and his fingers interlaced as he waited for you to either hold or break.
With the top half of your body fallen limply onto the bed, you reached out above your head and felt Helmut’s hand grab yours, squeezing slightly, and it helped keep you grounded as you held his fingers.
“Oh fuck, ‘m gonna come,” Sam groaned out his warning, “gonna cover this pretty ass in my come, you want that?”
“Yes, please,” you shuddered.
“Keep begging for it,” he demanded, rushing his words as you felt his cock start to throb against your walls with his impending orgasm.
“Please come, please come, please come on me, Sam, please,” you chanted, over and over, struggling not to come and hoping that if you could speed him up, then you could make it.
He grunted through his teeth as hot ropes of seed covered your ass; though your body was left wanting, dangling on the edge so close to your release, your mind was satisfied that you had managed to follow your Baron’s rules.
Sam stepped back to admire his work, finding another spare robe to cover himself with as he rejoined the other men across the room.
“Would you like a drink as well?” Helmut offered to Sam, unfortunately letting go of your hand in the process. Sam was still catching his breath, running his hands over his short hair as if he was processing everything.
“No, but are those cigars up for grabs?” Sam replied, pointing to the ornate box propped open, and Helmut nodded.
“Of course; what’s mine is yours,” he answered, presenting the box and lighter to him.
“Yeah, you can say that again,” Sam added flatly, the three of them all looking at where you were sitting, covered in come and waiting patiently for your next command.
Just as you feared they’d all have their cigars and whiskey and ignore you completely, your Baron knelt down to look at you face-to-face, smiling proudly.
“You did so good for me, darling,” he cooed, and your insides clenched as if you could come just from hearing that. “You don't think I'm horribly cruel, do you?"
"No, sir," you smiled weakly.
“I’ll be right back,” he promised with a kiss to the tip of your nose as he stepped away to the master bathroom.
You glanced at the other men— Bucky with his crystal glass of whiskey, Sam puffing at the cigar stoically— and wondered what, if anything, you could possibly say.
“So, how’s your weekend been so far?” Sam asked you plainly, breaking the silence.
“It’s only Friday night,” you realized, sighing as you tried not to imagine how much debauchery the Baron had in store for you. Right now you were so exhausted that it sounded like too much work; and you were so desperate only for Helmut that the idea of anybody else being involved intimidated you.
Helmut returned quickly with a washcloth, sitting beside you on the bed and placing it gently on your back.
“As pretty as you look covered in come, I’d rather not make too much of a mess,” Helmut explained as he wiped you down with the damp cloth, your skin tingling and your body crying out for more of his touch.
“Will you fuck me, sir?” you mumbled, somewhere between an honest question and a desperate plea.
“Yes, I will,” he answered, making you hum happily, “and I’m finally going to let you come.”
You bit down on your lip, trying not to moan just from hearing that.
“But I’m not going to let you stop.”
The lump in your throat was impossible to swallow, but you tried anyway as he tossed the rag away and circled the bed, standing behind where you were laying limply. He grabbed you by your ankles and pulled you down to where he needed you, covering your body with his as he kissed the back of your neck slowly.
“I bet you’ll come the moment I’m inside you, draga,” he whispered. You nodded in agreement, gasping a bit as you felt his cock teasing your swollen, sore pussy. Just the tip bumping into your clit was enough to make you think you could come right there, you’d been on the edge so long.
But then he pushed into you in one stroke, not rough yet enough to reignite the soreness of being filled by two men already, and your walls started to pulse around him. A million words swirled in your mind, words about how perfect he felt and how you’d missed him so much and how no one could fuck you like he could, but none of them made it to your mouth where you could only moan loudly.
He wrapped his arms around you, he kissed everywhere he could reach, and waves of pleasure washed over you until tears filled your eyes. You lost count immediately, coming on his cock over and over as you became a limp, whimpering mess right away.
“You two really did miss out,” Helmut taunted the other men between his own moans, “it feels so fucking amazing to be inside her when she comes. She gets tighter every time… blyat, so tight I can hardly control myself.”
It was already hot to hear him speak to you like that in these moments, but for him to speak to someone else, to keep you from forgetting that you weren’t alone and that these men had just fucked you and were watching you come right now? You hadn’t even imagined before what that would be like.
“Please, please, sir, please,” you chanted, your voice breaking until you could barely whisper.
“What is it that you want, lutka? Do you even know what you’re begging for anymore?”
“I want whatever you want, sir, please,” you cried. He reached around your body to rub your throbbing clit, and you all but screamed.
“I know you do, beautiful, I know,” he breathed, kissing your back and shoulder tenderly to calm you. “I love you so much, draga, you know that, don’t you?”
“Yes, I love you too, Helmut,” you whispered, “more than anything. I love being yours.”
“Aw,” you heard Bucky briefly sigh.
“Dude, shut up,” Sam corrected him harshly.
“It’s sweet!” Bucky defended.
“It’s weird; this is all so weird,” Sam frowned.
“You didn’t seem to mind before…” Bucky trailed off.
Two of Helmut’s fingers swiped over your open lips and you immediately sucked them into your mouth with a satisfied hum, the taste of his skin always comforting you. When he rolled you onto your side, it was so much easier for him to touch you wherever he wanted and it only did more to keep you overwhelmed with pleasure until you worried you couldn’t take much more. But you kept sucking his fingers, tears still falling which he occasionally kissed away, until he took his hand away to wrap around your neck instead. You nodded a little to let him know it was okay to choke you, and your loud moans fell to sudden silence when he tightened his grip.
It made your eyes roll back, it made your walls flutter and your toes start to go numb, it made you wonder if you were going to pass out whether or not he let you breathe again because your body was already ready to give in.
You sucked in a gasp when he let go, sobbing his name as a particularly deep thrust knocked you right into your peak again. He kept one hand on your neck as the other reached between your legs to play with your abused pussy as he fucked it harder than ever.
“I can’t come anymore,” you assured, shaking your head and trying to push his hand away from your sore clit. “I— I can’t…”
“Yes, you can, draga, I know you can. Just relax and let me keep making you feel good,” he instructed, somehow both gentle and demanding all at once.
“I… I can’t…” you breathed, nearly incomprehensible between thick sobs, but you were already coming again in spite of your words, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body from the inside out. He choked you out into silence again, praising you all the way through it.
“There you go, shh, it’s all right,” he soothed, “you’re so beautiful, darling, so good for me, just keep going…”
You reached back to lace your fingers into his hair and tug, which did nothing to deter him from kissing your neck just beneath where his thumb gripped it, same as your hand wrapped tightly around his wrist didn’t stop him from quickly rubbing your clit.
Breath filled your lungs when he let go, and you were so desperate for relief that you felt like you weren’t even in control of your words anymore.
"Please come inside me," you begged mindlessly, "please, I need you so bad, please…"
“Is that what you need?” he groaned. “You need to be full of my seed?”
“Yes, please, want it deep in me— fuck, Helmut, please!”
He growled and bit your ear lightly, mumbling his promise to fill you up in Sokovian— sometimes you thought he spoke Sokovian when he was about to come because he was so distracted that he forgot English, but you didn’t think that at the moment because you were currently too cockdrunk to think about anything.
His low moan echoed right through your body as you felt his cock flex and throb with each pump of come, just as deep as you’d wanted, and you sighed happily at the familiar feeling, finally relaxing into the mattress.
But perhaps you relaxed a little too soon because he made you come one more time after he’d filled you, whispering something about he wanted to use your pussy to milk every drop from his cock, but after that finally he pulled out, and you collapsed face-down onto the bed, ready to pass out even though the sun was only just beginning to set and you’d slept until noon earlier.
“Well, I think we sufficiently knocked her out,” Sam chuckled.
“‘We’?” Helmut repeated, sounding a bit offended yet bemused as he redressed.
“Okay fine, you did most of the heavy lifting, but only cause you wouldn’t let her come for us,” Sam relented with a frown.
“I swear, I was this close to getting her to break,” Bucky interjected, sighing before taking another slow sip of his (third) drink.
“Yeah, what would’ve happened if one of us made her come, anyway?” Sam wondered aloud. “She seemed pretty worried about whatever punishment you had in store for her.”
“Nothing too terrible,” Helmut shrugged, “I just would’ve fucked her in the ass.”
Bucky choked on his whiskey as Sam tried and failed to suppress a smirk.
“She lets you do that?!” Bucky blurted out between fits of coughing.
“She lets me do whatever I want,” Helmut replied, “I’m surprised that hasn’t become abundantly clear to you by now.”
“I guess we’re still adjusting to it, that’s all,” Sam explained. “I don’t know about you,” he looked at Bucky, “but this is new for me.”
“I was born in 1917; everything is new for me,” Bucky frowned.
“Well, this is new for us too,” Helmut assured, “especially her, she was so inexperienced when she met me…”
He paused for a moment to reminisce before glancing at you lying prone on the bed and looked totally fucked-out.
“But look at her now!” he finished. “She takes it all in stride.”
“Yeah, she’s a trooper alright,” Sam agreed. “Be careful with her, Zemo, ‘cause I think if you hurt her too bad, Bucky here is gonna be waiting in the wings to steal her.”
“I— what?!” Bucky snorted defensively.
“Don’t think we can’t see you giving her googly eyes, not that I blame you or anything… getting deepthroated for the first time will definitely make you catch feelings,” Sam smirked before taking a puff of the cigar again.
“It’s not like that, I’m just… listen, I guess I’m just a bit more conventional than you perverts,” he frowned. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or anything, I just can’t imagine having a girl like that all to myself and letting anybody else lay a finger on her.”
“Not everyone is as insecure as you, James,” Helmut shrugged. “Women can’t be stolen. They can only go where they want to. And she wants to be with me.”
He turned back to ask you if you agreed, but you were already fast asleep. Smiling slightly, he grabbed a blanket from the foot of the bed and unfolded it to drape over you; you instinctively cuddled up under it without waking up, letting out a quiet sigh.
“Goodnight, draga,” he whispered with a kiss to your forehead. “Rest well, you’ll need it for the morning.”
The Sort of Things We Usually Do Alone | Mob!Sam Wilson, Mob!Bucky Barnes, and Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader
summary: it’s not like you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into when you got a job at a mob-controlled strip club. still, you never saw this coming.
warnings: technically dub con but it’s pretty light, there’s three dudes and one girl so i bet you can guess that every hole is going to come into discussion, plus some pain kink and metal arm kink. (note: none of them are fully dark here, but like… it’s the mob so, they’re not 100% gentlemen either. just bossy and demanding and a wee bit possessive, but not true creeps.)
Funny enough, you had actually been expecting an easy night tonight. You were just doing bottle service-- no pole, no private events-- so unless somebody specifically requested you for a lap dance, you were basically off the hook. Less tips, but you were already looking forward to getting home and changing into something considerably less tight than what you were wearing now.
That all went out the window when you saw three suits walk in the door. You knew who they were: everyone did. Just the way they walked made it clear that they owned the place-- literally.
Sam, specifically, you recognized. He was pretty high up in the organization but he spent the most time here of anyone. You and Sam had an... arrangement, to put it softly. You gave him a lot of private dances, and you did things with him that you most certainly were not permitted to do with other customers. The two men beside him-- one with dark hair and an even darker glare, the other with shorter blonde locks and gorgeous blue eyes-- seemed new.
You pretended not to see them as you set down your tray of drinks and waited for Sam to come to you, like he always did. You felt his hand on the small of your back and turned to look up at him through your lashes, a little surprised to see the other two still with him rather than dispersing into the crowd.
“Hey there," Sam purred at you, leaning against the bar beside where you were standing.
"Hi," you replied coyly.
"You miss me?"
"Mm, you're a good liar," he grinned, lifting your chin with one finger and leaning in for an open-mouthed kiss.
You stopped him with a gentle press of your hands against his chest. "Um, you haven't introduced me to your friends…"
Maybe it was ironically conservative for you to object to being kissed in front of men you didn't know when you literally got naked for strangers every day, but you figured that he had something important to tell you about them. If he didn't, he would've taken you to the back room by now.
"Oh! I almost forgot. We got some fresh blood-- Bucky," he motioned to the dark haired one, "and Steve," he shoved the other on the shoulder. Bucky barely even acknowledged you aside from a slow scan of your body with his gaze; Steve gave you a slightly awkward half-smile.
"Hi there, boys," you greeted with your brightest smile. "Welcome to the family."
"You're gonna welcome them a little better than that," Sam grinned. "Why don't you give Bucky a lap dance, huh? On the house, of course."
"Sure," you agreed, trying to hide your confusion that he would suggest something like that. Normally he was pretty possessive and jealous.
Just as you started to walk towards the chairs by the stage, Sam interjected.
"No, sweetheart-- take him to the back."
You could hardly believe what you were hearing. "A… private dance?"
"Well, Steve and I will be close by. So not that private."
"Uhh, sure. This way," you led Bucky with a curled finger and a saunter into the back hallway, past the red velvet curtain where the lights were even darker and the carpet was plushy and soft under your stilettos.
"Take a seat," you offered as you turned the corner to the room you and Sam usually used. Bucky relaxed into the black suede chair, his eyes never leaving you. Only then did you notice that he was wearing leather gloves-- a little peculiar, but you’d definitely seen stranger
You felt Sam and Steve step a little closer behind you, caging you in. Even moreso, you felt three pairs of eyes on you. It felt different, somehow, than having dozens on you when you danced on stage.
"For private dances,” you explained slowly, “I typically wear… a little bit less than this…”
"I'm not gonna stop you," Bucky shrugged.
Yeah, but is Sam? you replied internally.
He didn't. What he did instead was tell Steve to help you unzip the back of your dress.
"Thank you," you mumbled as you made sure your hair was out of the way, shivering a little as his fingers ghosted over your neck to get a grip on the zipper, slowly sliding it down to the small of your back.
Stepping forward, you slipped the straps off your shoulders and let the dress fall to the floor.
"You're wearing the set I bought you," Sam noticed with a grin. He said you looked best in black. You weren't sure you agreed but you ended up using this set a lot anyways.
"You have good taste," you replied.
"Agreed," Bucky murmured, looking up at you from his chair.
Lifting one leg and sliding it next to him on the couch, you slowly lowered yourself until you were straddling him.
You gingerly wrapped your arms around his shoulders and began to move slowly, going through the motions and noticing the way he unabashedly stared at your chest. The lace bra didn’t leave much to the imagination.
There was a tension in the air as you moved over him, only the thumping bass echoing from the main floor breaking the silence. Some guys liked to talk during a dance, but Bucky’s brooding said more than enough. You could sense his restraint being tested-- occasionally you could even hear his fist tighten thanks to the creaking of the leather gloves.
Quickly turning to face the other way, you rubbed your ass on his crotch and almost let out a groan when you felt that he was hard. Hoping to tease him, you lifted your hips only to gasp when he grabbed you and pulled you down onto him, his breath hot on the back of your neck.
“N-no touching,” you stammered, grabbing his wrists and placing his hands beside his legs.
“Let him touch you,” Sam instructed darkly.
“Did I stutter?”
You breathed shakily as you lifted your hands from Bucky’s wrists; as soon as he was free to, he reached around you and used his left hand to remove his right glove and toss it aside. You thought it was a little odd that he left the other one on, but once he was running his hands over your thighs and pushing your legs apart, you didn’t think much of it anymore.
You shivered as his right hand moved, excruciatingly slowly, towards your lace-clad pussy.
“You’re sort of shy, for a stripper,” Bucky whispered in your ear.
“Believe it or not, this is new for me,” you whispered back, giving a quick glance to where Steve and Sam were standing and watching you both intently. Your head fell back onto Bucky’s shoulder when one finger toyed with the edge of the lace of your panties.
His left hand pushed your face to the side so that he could kiss you, and before you were thinking about it you were kissing him back.
Finally, you felt Bucky's fingers pull your lingerie to the side and slide through your folds. He growled into your eager mouth when he felt how wet you were.
"Can I fuck her?" he asked, and you didn't realize until Sam replied that he was asking his permission.
"Not yet," was Sam's quick answer as he approached you. Grabbing your jaw, Sam pulled you forward and kissed you roughly.
Sam's kisses always made you feel completely at his disposal; his mouth dominated yours aggressively, and his hand wrapped around your neck just tight enough to make your heart race.
"Such a good little slut, aren't you?" he teased when he pulled back-- though he was still so close that his lips brushed against yours when he spoke.
"Yes-- for you," you answered.
"And you'll be good for them too, won't you? Get 'em initiated into the family?"
"Of course," you nodded quickly, "whatever you want."
"You said we were coming here for a team-building exercise," Steve recalled with crossed arms.
"And did I lie?" Sam retorted, standing up again to give him a glare. “Typically when I share my things with people, they’re grateful.”
“Right-- of course I am,” Steve backtracked quickly, “I just hope she’s not only doing it because you said to.”
“Aw, you’re worrying a little too much,” Sam chuckled. “She’s a whore, Steve. She loves it.”
"Go ahead baby," Sam continued, addressing you now, "give him the full treatment. But save some strength because Steve's going next."
You stood up and flipped around again, working open the buttons of Bucky’s shirt. Typically, guys responded really well to this part, leaning back and letting you undress them. He tensed up, though, and his eyes went a little wide.
“I wanna see you,” you explained, taking a moment to reach under the part of his shirt you’d opened so far and run your hand over his muscled chest.
“May not like what you see,” he warned you.
“I doubt that,” you grinned, already nearly halfway done with the buttons.
When you finished with the tedious buttons and pushed his shirt and jacket aside, you understood what he had been worried about: his shoulder was covered in scars, and even in the low light of the room you could tell that everything past that point was a metal prosthetic.
"That explains the glove you won't take off," you commented dryly.
"I didn't scare you off yet?" he asked like he was trying to stay cool, but was secretly worried it would bother you.
"Touch me with it," you requested quietly. Slowly, he removed the other glove and reached towards you with the metal hand.
His fingers were cold as they slid up your chest, around your neck, over your jaw. You dipped your head down a bit to take two of them into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them.
He bit his lip quickly before leaning forward and looking you right in the eyes. “Get on the couch, on your hands and knees,” he instructed firmly.
You obeyed so quickly that you wondered if you left a cloud of dust in the shape of your silhouette like a cartoon; Sam noticed, and laughed. “Eager, huh?”
“Extremely,” Bucky answered for you as he slipped your panties down, and pushed the spit-slicked metal fingers inside you. You moaned and gripped the back of the couch tighter. The fingers withdrew as suddenly as they had entered, and you saw a shirt and jacket land beside you on the couch. Next was the sound of his belt clinking as it opened-- it made you a little nervous, in an erotic sort of way.
You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you when Bucky thrust into you all at once. He wasn't bigger than Sam, at least as far as you could tell, but the shape of his cock was completely different. It pressed against your walls in new ways, and massaged places that you weren't used to feeling.
You were already loud enough that anyone passing through the back hall would certainly hear you and know exactly what was happening. God forbid they saw three pairs of men’s shoes through the bottom of the curtain; the idea of someone knowing just how thoroughly you were being used made your face burn with a slightly pleasurable shame.
He moved just slow enough to make you wonder if he was trying to tease you. When he reached around and drew lazy circles around your clit, though, you were confident that he was trying to tease you.
“More, please,” you whimpered. “Fuck me harder.”
He laughed, and gave your ass a quick spank. “Poor thing, so needy,” he mocked. But he still did as you asked, holding you by your waist to keep you steady as he started to fuck you with the brutality you’d been hoping for.
He leaned down until it felt like his entire body would wrap around yours. He bit at the back of your neck and shoulders, growling as he fucked into you even deeper than you had realized was possible.
Just as you thought you both were on the path to coming, Sam stepped closer.
"Alright, step aside, loverboy," he chuckled, "I think you've had your fair share for now."
Bucky hesitated and you knew he didn't want to stop; you voluntarily clenched your walls around him as a little way of saying you weren't done with him yet either.
Reluctantly, he pulled out and you felt the rough skin of Sam's hand move up and down your back. "You want your turn with this pretty little cunt, Steve?" he asked, and you could hear the smile in his voice.
"I want that ass."
You swallowed dryly; Sam grinned.
"I like your style, man. Go ahead, have at it."
Steve took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves before he started to run his hands all over your body, humming contentedly. He moved a finger through your folds to wet it, then gently pushed it past your tight rim. "More," you requested with a moan.
"Already?" Steve questioned, but obeyed, adding a second finger quickly.
He scissored his fingers back and forth, slowly stretching you open. Your face was so hot you could probably fry an egg on it; you felt very exposed getting your ass fingered with two men watching you intently.
"Hurry up, please, I want it," you whimpered. You knew you could take the pain, and on days like this, you actually craved it.
"Just a little more babygirl," Steve promised, "gotta get you ready for me. Don't wanna break you."
"I wish you would," you admitted, and you heard Bucky laugh quietly from the sidelines.
Steve got a little more serious suddenly, leaning down as he slipped a third finger into you roughly. "I don't know if you could take me, little girl. I could split you in half," he growled right against your ear.
Your back arched. You wanted it so bad.
“I know that’s what you need, but if I did Sam would probably kill me. So be a good girl and be patient, alright?”
You nodded and bit your lip, doing your best to relax as he continued to twist his fingers inside you.
Thankfully, it wasn’t all too long before you felt him slide them out, that telltale jingling of his belt buckle in your ears again. You moaned when his hard cock slid between your legs, becoming coated in your arousal. Once he was satisfied, he pushed into your waiting hole; he’d prepared you so well that there was almost no resistance for the first half, but then as he got thicker and harder, you felt it start to burn. Not that you minded.
When he was fully inside, you both gasped. Of course, you were still trying to process the feeling when he was starting to slam into you. This guy did not beat around the bush, holy shit.
“Fuck, you like it, huh?” he taunted, fucking you even harder and faster.
“Yes!” you cried out, feeling his cock brushing against sensitive places inside you-- even if it was through a barrier.
Sam suddenly appeared on the couch next to you. You felt a little nervous as his gaze scanned your face, and you looked back at him with wide eyes. He slid under you on the couch, toying with your clit and grinning when he felt your wetness.
"Look who loves it in the ass,” he mumbled against your ear.
You couldn't respond, distracted by Sam's cock pressing against your available opening. You had been expecting it to feel familiar, but with Steve inside you, everything felt completely different.
"Oh god," you groaned as Sam pressed forward; he hissed at the sensation of how wet and hot you were for him.
"How does it feel baby?" he asked as he started to bite at your neck.
"So full… so good…"
"What do you want us to do, kitten?"
"I want you to fuck me so hard…"
Before they had really started to get their rhythm, you fought through your haze and motioned for Bucky to come closer. When he did, you licked a long stripe up his cock before taking as much as you could into your throat.
"Fuck, just like that," Bucky praised, pushing your hair back so he could see your face. "Choke on it."
With so many cocks moving inside you, you felt like a ragdoll in their hands. But more than even you had expected, you loved being their toy.
Sam loved to leave marks all over you, even though it made your job harder-- especially because it made your job harder, in fact. He loved everyone knowing how owned you are. So it was no surprise that he was already doing his best to leave bruises in the shape of his fingerprints everywhere he could reach. You could tell he was already getting close-- and you were too, close to something so intense that you worried about passing out.
"Want me to come on your cute little face, baby?" Sam asked, his voice deeper and more gravelly than usual.
You shook your head, Bucky's cock still in your mouth.
"On your perfect tits?"
You shook it again, even as Bucky grabbed the back of your head and pushed you all the way to the base.
"Oh, that's right… you want me to fill up this sopping cunt, right?"
You nodded furiously, a tear sliding down your cheek.
"You wanna be full of my come, sticky and wet all night? Then beg for it, sweetheart."
Bucky released you, and the second you were free to breathe you were pleading already, stroking him quickly.
"Sam, please! I need to be full of your come-- I want it so bad, please, just come inside me and don't stop until every drop is in please please please--"
"Holy hell, I can't take much more of this," Steve hissed as his hands dug deeper into your skin.
"You want us all to come?" Sam pressed.
"Fuck," Bucky groaned, "keep stroking me-- finish me off on your face."
“Please-- I want you to come, so bad,” you whimpered. “Oh god, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna fucking come, fuck!”
The hand that wasn’t around Bucky’s cock was accidentally digging into Sam’s shoulder, certainly hard enough to leave half-moon cuts from your nails. He didn’t seem to mind though, fucking you through your orgasm as he fell into his own, finishing with a noise that mixed a moan with a growl.
Steve was next, and you could feel his cock swelling and pulsing; it was like one last test of your body’s physical capabilities, since you’d already thought you were at your limit.
Last but not least, of course, was Bucky. You opened your mouth and let his come fall in warm streams on your face and tongue. He made the most beautiful sounds as you kept stroking him through it, and eventually he had to pull your hand off of him when it became too much. You swallowed what had landed in your open mouth, taking a moment to wipe some off your face and suck it off of your finger as well. A drip started to wander towards your eye, which you shut to avoid that disaster.
Bucky looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, even though you undoubtedly looked like a complete mess. All three of them were looking at you that way, actually, but you couldn’t see them.
“Jesus, Sam,” Steve chuckled as he pulled out and watched his come leak from your abused hole, “I gotta be honest, if I had a girl like this, I wouldn’t let her work in a club.”
“Yeah, I’ve thought about pulling her out,” Sam admitted, wincing a little as he tapped your leg to signal you should get off of him, which you did.
You don’t know the first thing about pulling out, you replied internally.
“She makes us a lot of money, though,” Sam explained.
“But the way she looks right now,” Bucky grinned, “that’s priceless.”
“Ha, yeah, well of course you would say that,” Sam rolled his eyes. “If you think that coming on her face will successfully mark your territory or something, you’re wrong.”
But Bucky wasn’t listening, he was too busy grabbing your neck and pulling you into a filthy kiss. You could tell he was tasting himself on your tongue, and when he pulled back, he’d even smeared some come on his nose and cheeks. He wiped it off like it was nothing and grinned at you. That, on the other hand, did feel like a somewhat successful territory-marking.
“Now I feel kinda bad,” Steve pouted. “She’s gonna have to take three showers to get clean enough to go back out there.”
“Oh, I think she’s done for the night,” Sam announced as you finally got your chance to relax and lay back on the couch-- though it wasn’t that relaxing, because you were sore everywhere, and still wearing those stupid uncomfortable heels.
“You’re letting me go home early?” you repeated, your voice coming out froggy and strange; you cleared your throat and ignored the way it tasted like come.
“Hmm, not quite,” Sam smirked. “I think Steve here has a point. For one thing, you shouldn’t be going back to that horrible apartment every night. You live in a really dangerous part of town.”
“It’s not dangerous if you’ve got mob protection,” you countered.
“But I can’t protect you when you live so far away,” he frowned. “Come back to mine, clean up in a much nicer shower than you’re used to, and you can get back to work tomorrow, alright?”
“Sure,” you agreed, “but maybe… get me a rag first?”
“I’ll drive you,” Bucky offered.
That meant you weren’t going to get a rag. What you didn’t realize at the time was that it also meant Bucky and Steve were going to stay the night at Sam’s, too. What you never could’ve imagined was that the four of you weren’t going to leave again for quite some time. And what you would’ve actually bet money against if somebody had asked you about it that morning was that you weren’t going to be working in the club anymore.
Pairing: (cis)fem!Reader x Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x Sam Wilson
Warnings: Smut. 18+ only. Sex pollen (but consent is explicit), foursome, threesome, unprotected sex, m/m smut, sex marathon. (Will be specified further in each chapter)
Summary: Bucky, Steve, Sam and you are in the safe house post mission when a retrieved Hydra device activates, releasing a kind of pollen you don’t know of, but the effects of which are soon discovered.
A/N: This is my submission for @buckyssoul ‘s Rae Hit 1k Marvel Writing Challenge. I’m sorry for the delay, but I hope you like it!
A/N 2: This series is gonna be pure smut, (all of the events supposedly happening on the same day) with each chapter focusing on a particular pairing or kink.
I’m taking requests if you want a particular kink to be featured. Send me an ask or text me for the same or to be tagged.
Run-through: The two soldiers make their way home to you after a long and tiring mission; knowing that only you can take their mind off things and help them wind down. The mission was lengthy and exhausting, leaving them both grumpy and frustrated. And they don’t plan on being gentle with you either…
Sam’s smooth, deep voice whispered in your ear, making your core tremble in more ways than one. You could only whine in response, throwing your head back onto Sam’s shoulder as you felt the overwhelming sensation in between your legs. It was growing, more and more, taking over you. It had been for the past hour. But in the back of your head you knew you weren’t allowed to cum just yet. Bucky pushed the vibrator further into you, his lips parted and a playful look in his wild blue eyes as he watched you writhe under him.
“Please daddy… please…” you whined. Desperate and your body damp with sweat. Your mind was a foggy mess. “I’m sorry…” you mumbled out an apology.
Sam scoffed at your weak apology. “You’re doing so well babygirl,” Bucky murmured, “but you’re not allowed to cum, not after being such a bad little girl while Sam and I were away.”
Behind you, at Bucky’s words, you felt Sam’s grip tightening on your wrists; keeping them secure in his grasp at your lower back, while his other hand reached around and fondled your breasts. You moaned as Bucky turned the vibrator up and placed it right on top of your entrance, making your legs shake as you tried to close them. But he was kneeling right in between them, with his metal arm pressing your hips down on the bed, so there was not much you could do. You had nowhere to escape, you absolutely had to endure the sweet torture. You earned it.
Sam and Bucky were gone for 2 weeks, on a long mission. And they left one rule for you to follow - you were not to touch yourself, or pleasure yourself sexually in any way because that was “their job.” Did you abide by it? Absolutely not. And you were also careless enough to leave all your toys out in the open - which was the first thing they saw once they stepped into your shared bedroom. So now you were being ‘punished’.
You whined in pleasure, but Bucky quickly shut you up by pushing his metal fingers past your lips. “Aww, what is it baby? Is it too hard to hold back?” he cooed and pulled his fingers out and then pushed them back in again. “Well then you should’ve been a good girl when you were asked to.” Bucky taunted, smirking and wiggling the wand a little and making you whine louder. And to add on to your sweet torture, Sam trailed his hand down from your chest to your core and gently circled your clit with his two fingers.
“You made us a promise, kitten. Then you went on and broke it.” Sam growled in your ear as he unexpectedly smacked you right on your clit, making you bite your lip and moan loudly. “When did you start acting like such a brat, huh?” his fingers circled your clit lazily as he spoke, “Maybe we’ve been too easy on you, isn’t it?” he nibbled on the shell of your ear, “Spoil you too much, don’t we kitten?”
His voice made your damp body tremble. You were aching, desperate, your body burning with desire and need. But the soldiers were hell bent on teaching you a lesson. Your thighs trembled as Bucky messed with you. He changed the setting on the wand, making it more intense while Sam teased your clit, and tilted your head back and kissed you like he owned you; pushing his tongue past your lips and stroking the top of your mouth. You whimpered in pleasure.
Bucky pulled his fingers from your mouth and grabbed your jaw rather harshly, making you open your eyes and face him. “Sam’s right. We’ve been spoiling you too much.” you shivered at the tone of his voice. Deep. Angry. Hot. He held your stare as he spoke, making you whine just from the intensity of his eyes. “From now on, you’re gonna have to beg nicely for everything.” He scoffed.
Bucky moved the vibrator around while Sam kissed down your neck. You felt the pressure forming in between your legs, again and you desperately tried to chase your orgasm. Bucky noticed and lifted the vibrator off you, denying you your release yet again. You cried out, hazy with lust, “Please daddy, I’ll be a good girl I promise…”
You earned yourself a smack on your thighs from Sam. “Quiet.” he growled in your ear, “You’re gonna take everything that we give you, you hear me?” Sam’s voice reverberated and it gave you chills even despite being trapped in between their body heat. “Answer me, kitten.” he said, sternly.
You gasped at the tone he used. “Yes, daddy.”
You were a mess trapped in between them. Your moans muffled either by one of their mouths on yours, or their fingers pushed inside your mouth trying to keep you quiet. Tears of frustration streamed down your face as they kept teasing you; keeping you right on the edge but not letting you come undone. You were a tear-stained mess in no time. They had been teasing you relentlessly for God knows how long now. With toys, their mouths, their hands, Sam even made you ride his thigh at some point all while Bucky teased you with his cold, metal fingers until you were a whimpering mess, unable to speak coherently.
“Did you learn your lesson baby? Do you promise to be a good girl now and listen to daddy?” Bucky asked as Sam wiggled the wand around. They had switched positions at some point and they could both tell that you had reached your limit and you couldn’t take it anymore.
You nodded quickly, forcing your eyes open to look into Sam’s mesmerising dark brown eyes. “Say it kitten, say you’re sorry.” he whispered, leaning down to kiss you briefly. You moaned into the kiss and whimpered as he pulled away.
“I’m sorry daddy,” you cried. “I’ll be good I promise, just please-,” you cut yourself off by moaning loudly when Sam tossed the toy aside and replaced it with his warm mouth.
His tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease. He poked at your entrance with his tongue and your body felt hotter than earlier. You felt his tongue stroke your most sensitive parts. “I missed tasting your sweet little cunt so much…” he looked up at you and found you with your eyes shut, head thrown back in pleasure. “Look at me.” He ordered and the authority in his voice made you tremble.
You looked down in between your legs and found Sam settle in between them. His strong arms wrapped around your thighs as he ate you out like a mad man, unrestrained and focused on making you lose your mind. Meanwhile, Bucky turned your head to the side, kissing you without a care in the world while he pinched and toyed with your nipples. You moaned into his mouth and you could feel him smirk into the kiss.
“Too much, is it babygirl?” he mumbled against your lips as he felt your body tremble against him. Sam was relentless and you weren’t going to last too long and they both knew that. You nodded at Bucky with a pleading look on your face, feeling the pressure build nicely in between your hips again.
“Please…” you cried out, whimpering and begging them to take you already. You could no longer deal with this teasing. Sam smirked as he kissed along your inner thighs before getting back to where you needed him the most. Your arousal coated the lower half of his face, but he didn’t mind it one bit. You whined and whimpered; with your legs wrapped around his head.
“Come for me kitten, come for daddy.” Sam whispered against your wet folds, his warm breath making you shiver. His piercing eyes watched you cautiously as you let go and came all over his tongue, moaning and whimpering as you did.
Bucky growled as he watched you come undone, he could no longer take it either. He barely gave you enough time to recover as he positioned you in between him and Sam again.
You found yourself on all fours in the middle of the bed, with Sam in front of you; his cock in your mouth while Bucky pushed into you from behind. Sam groaned as you took him into your mouth as much as you could; he held your face gently and watched you intently with parted lips how you took him so perfectly. He grunted and hissed in pleasure as struggled just a little to fit him into your mouth.
Bucky was just as focused; your soaking cunt wrapped around his cock perfectly, your walls inviting him in just how he liked it. “Fuck… babygirl you feel so tight around daddy’s big cock.” Bucky mumbled as he pulled out and pushed all the way back into you. His actions caused your mouth to move along Sam’s thick cock and that elicited a loud groan out of him.
You looked up at Sam, and your walls clenched around Bucky as the noises left his mouth. Sam held your face gently and slowly pushed himself deeper in and out of your mouth. You bobbed your head around his tip; taking him in until he hit the back of your throat. You felt all of him; his smooth skin, his raw taste, and you repeated your actions again and again, hollowing your cheeks when needed. Bucky pounded into you from behind. He groaned and grunted as he filled you up entirely; your ass cheek pressing into his pelvic bone as he rammed his cock in and out of you incessantly; groaning and grunting as your warmth wrapped around him perfectly.
Sam came first, coming undone all over your tongue and watching you swallow all of him, while Bucky sped up into you, chasing his orgasm as well. He moaned when he felt your walls clench around him, squeezing and milking him as he went. You felt the familiar pressure forming again in no time, given you were already so desperate and needy. Sam finally pulled his cock from your mouth and tugged on your hair so you looked up at him. Your whole body shook as Bucky pounded relentlessly into you from behind. Sam smirked as he looked into your eyes.
“You secretly love being treated like this, don’t you kitten?” Sam whispered, and half of his words didn’t even make sense because Bucky was fucking your brains out at the same time. Sam smirked. You couldn’t hold back anymore, Bucky was stretching you out just how you liked it and it was hard to hold back anymore. “Beg for it, come on.” Sam let go of your face and you whimpered at the loss of his warm touch.
So you begged. Wantonly, without any shame.
“Daddy, may I please come?” you whined, closing your eyes and leaning forward, pressing your forehead to Sam’s abdomen.
Bucky grunted, and you felt his cock throb against your walls. You tightened around him, and he groaned, “Cum for me babygirl,” he whispered under his breath before coming undone just seconds later; buried deep within you; growling and mumbling profanities as he came.
You came right after, moaning and trembling between them both. Sam caressed your face and wiped your tears away as you allowed your orgasm to wash over you. Your body trembled. You could still feel Sam’s in your mouth while Bucky pulled out and watched his cum trickle out of you and onto the sheets. You were panting and whimpering, and luckily they held you up otherwise you would have collapsed on the bed completely.
Sam grabbed you by the shoulders and held your trembling body against his warm one. “You okay, kitten?” he whispered in your ear as you hid your face into the crook of his neck. Your heart was still racing, and your body was throbbing but you nodded.
“Thank you daddy.” you added. Sam wrapped his strong arms around you but given by the way he chuckled, you could tell they weren’t entirely done with you yet.
And that’s how you found yourself trapped in between the two soldiers you loved so much. Sam was behind you while Bucky was in front. Bucky gripped your hips and settled your body right in between him and Sam. You could tell by the look in their eyes that they couldn’t wait to fuck you at the same time.
You whimpered, your core throbbing and sore but ready for them at the same time. Your heart raced like crazy. You were worn out, but desperate still. Sam went first; he lathered his cock with the lube and toyed with your hole for a bit before he pushed his thick cock slowly into you. The lube made it easier for him to fill you up and he had you whimpering and moaning in no time. Your moans were shameless and obscene.
You whimpered and you leaned forward and rested your forehead on Bucky’s shoulder to steady yourself, but before you could catch your breath and adjust to Sam’s size, Bucky guided his cock over to your folds and pushed himself into you as well.
All three of you moaned at the same time once they were both seated into you. You felt your holes stretching with both of their cocks inside of you and you felt so full that you could barely talk. You gripped Bucky’s arm tightly and leaned your head back onto Sam’s shoulder. Trying to accommodate both of them inside you was always exciting and your ability to think straight was long gone.
Sam placed a gentle kiss on your temple and you felt his hands grip your waist as he moved in and out of you gently. Bucky kissed along your jaw and down your neck as he did the same. They moved in and out of you with a comfortable pace which created a momentum; granting all of you the pleasure you desperately needed. Especially you, given they had teased you for hours probably.
Your walls clenched equally tight around each of them and the wet sounds your bodies made were sinful enough to make you almost lose your mind. Sam bit down on your shoulder, whispering how good you felt while his arm tightened around you and he firmly placed his palm against your abdomen, right above your core. He could feel each one of Bucky’s thrust and the bulge which formed each time Bucky’s thick cock filled you up. So did you; moaning at how full you felt.
“This will teach you better than to break our rules, babygirl.”
All you could focus on was their voices, their moans and their body heat as it wrapped around you. They knew just what you needed, and they gave you just that without any shame. They both moved perfectly against you, your heart beats and breaths in sync. You felt the pressure growing in between your legs again, and you could no longer hold it back anymore.
“You’re close, aren’t you?”
You were sensitive and needy. You felt your walls clenching around both of them, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head while you came violently around both of them. You cried out; with actual tears streaming down your face and you whimpered as they kept going even after you came; pounding into you from both sides and chasing their own release. The sounds of the moans and grunts coming from them made your body tingle, and you throbbed still.
Bucky came right after you with a loud moan, which you could swear was the hottest thing you ever heard. Sam came after both of you, panting as he carefully slipped out of you; letting his cum drip down your skin again. You whimpered when Bucky pulled out of you, you felt his cum oozing out of your folds and dripping down your thighs.
Your body felt heavy and limp, so you just leaned back against Sam while Bucky kissed your lips roughly. You were sure you would be sore even tomorrow. Sam wrapped his arms tightly around you and kissed your temple. “You did so well, baby.” he whispered against your skin and kissed the side of your face.
You woke up the next morning still trapped in between the two men, under the covers this time. Limbs tangled with one another but that was okay. You smiled as you felt their hands on you. Both of their arms wrapped around you and holding you close to them. You opened your eyes and found that they were both still asleep. So you tried to wiggle your way out of their grip and out of bed so you could go downstairs and make them a big breakfast since it was their first day back.
But as soon as you moved a bit, you felt both of their arms tighten around you. You groaned in defeat, given you wouldn’t be able to surprise them with breakfast anymore.
“Where do you think you’re going, baby?” Sam mumbled and pulled you back to where you were initially, close against his warm chest.
“Running away?” Bucky whispered and leaned in to kiss your forehead, scooting closer to you and Sam.
“Nooo,” you protested, bringing both of their hands up to your lips so you could kiss their knuckles. “I was gonna make breakfast.”
Bucky smiled sleepily at you. “There’s no need, baby. We can go out for breakfast later. Come here,” he pulled you into him, Sam’s arm still around you. “I missed you so much. We both did.” he confessed.
“I missed you too. Both of you.” you mumbled against his neck. “And I’m sorry I broke our rule.” you pouted, but then giggled when you felt Sam gently tickling your sides.
“It’s okay baby, you’re forgiven.” Sam whispered and kissed the back of your neck. “As always, you little brat.”
“At least try to hide it when you’re being a little rebel next time, okay?” Bucky taunted, and he earned himself a dirty look and a pout from you. He laughed when he saw it. Sam chuckled as well.
“You guys are mean.” you tried to get up again but they pulled you back into bed and tickled the hell out of you until you were crying laughing and gasping for air.
Sure, they were a handful. But you were glad they were home, finally.
summary: there are seven days in a week; somehow Sam makes them all memorable just by existing.
pairing: Sam Wilson x reader
word count: 4k
warnings: marriage, mentions of ptsd/survivors guilt/trauma (very light, barely a passing comment), smut (including: kitchen sex, cockwarming, bjs, mentions of breeding), mentions of food obviously considering the banner c:
note: i wrote this so feverishly idek what quality it is. i hope u enjoy it i love him and i want to be his wife enough said <3
Mondays are bleary. Rubbing sleep from your eyes and brushing sleep from your mouth and dusting sleep from your shoulders, stumbling about with your eyes half-open and your feet dragging against the floor.
The bed’s warm; he’s warmer. And since he’s already up and at it, the bed is considerably colder. That’s the only thing that tugs you from the sheets and into the shower.
Sam’s much better at mornings than you are. Shit, by the time you’re up, he’s already showered and gone over his day’s schedule and made breakfast — actual breakfast, not a protein bar and smoothie. He’s all laughs when you trudge on into the kitchen, damp microfibre towel pulled over hair and a scowl on your face.
“C’mere, baby,” he coos — spreads those irritatingly muscled arms wide for you to walk into. And walk into them you do, because even your fatigue-addled mind recognizes the instant dopamine shot to the brain that is one of Sam's hugs. “Look at your grumpy little face.”
"'m sleepy," you mumble, squishing your cheek against his chest, eyes fluttering shut and shoulders slumping. You're half-prepared to fall asleep right then and there, with your boyfriend's lips pressed against your temple and his cologne all fuzzy and warm in your nose—
"You gotta eat before I go,” you hear him say, shuffling back towards the table with you attached, “C’mon now.”
“But ‘m not hungry.”
“You’re eating breakfast whether or not you like it.” He’s got that cadence in his voice that says quite plainly that there’s no room for argument — even when he’s smiling all jovial and easy. When you lift your head off of his chest, pouting and half-lidded, he only pecks your cheek and sits down, pulling you onto his lap after.
Monday breakfasts are more Sam actually eating and you catching up on more sleep than anything else — he’ll hum a little and tap your elbow and you’ll open your mouth to a piece of syrupy fruit; you’ll press sleepy kisses to the crook of his neck while he answers work emails. He doesn’t complain about you curled up on his lap — save for a few joking, overdramatic groans when he has to bend even further forward to reach his coffee — doesn’t complain when, after breakfast is tidied up and he has to get suited up for work, you stay glued to him; doesn’t complain when he gets out the door ten minutes later than he’s supposed to because you wanted his cock in your mouth.
Tuesdays are the unofficial official Big Scary Mission Day. The scheduled ones, that is, because God knows the other six days are up for grabs too. Miscellaneous terrorist #106 isn't going to put his evil plans on hold because you want to have dinner with your boyfriend.
You know you have no cause to worry. Really, you don't. You've had the pleasure of seeing Sam zip through the skies, as meticulous and focused as one could ever hope to be — that natural elegance, that pure strength… it doesn't arise by luck, that's for sure. Every inch of him is honed by determination and power, and you know this, you know he's going to be fine. Him and Bucky both.
Still. Tuesday's see you glancing too often out of windows, anxiously cupping styrofoam cups of coffee, checking your phone for texts that don't come. You bury yourself in work, answering phone calls and filing reports and whatever the fuck it is you do — you’re too distracted to actually ingest or retain any information.
Often you find yourself fiddling with the ring on your finger; lament your lack of picture frame on your desk (something about it being too dangerous to have a picture of Captain America out in the open — point taken); listen to podcasts about everything and nothing at all; read the same line over and over again. It's what you imagine purgatory must feel like.
You drive home from work listening to the smooth, low croon of Motown. The sun burns marigold yellow in the early evening, shifting each shadow further, painting each shadow darker.
Still, your phone is empty.
The car is parked; your clothes are shed; a bath is run with too many bubbles and completely useless yet pretty bath glitter. Your effort to calm your frazzled nerves shows itself in lit candles dotted around the bathroom, the generic soothing playlist you found on Spotify, a glass (or two) of rosé. You tie your hair up and sink into the bath, phone always within reach, and close your eyes for a moment.
You’ve gone through this routine a thousand times and you’ll go through it a few thousand more, and in truth, you really should be more or less acclimated to the empty bed and empty office and empty house, the stillness of it all; no hearty laughs in the background or din of chatter as Sam takes his phone calls; no music when he suddenly decides he wants to make use of his record player.
And yet, you’re not. You simmer inside your bath for about an hour before your restlessness gets the better of you and forces you up and out, dressing quickly and making quick work of yesterday’s leftovers. You settle onto the couch, then, with your phone in hand and heart in your throat, where — hopefully — you’ll be distracted by K-dramas and reality TV until you tire yourself out.
It’s only when it’s nearing midnight and your eyes are drooping, yawns stretching your cheeks with almost every breath, that your phone lights up. You don’t even bother to pause whatever generic competition show you’d been watching: you lunge for your device, blanket tangled around your ankle, and:
Be back soon. Don’t wait up. Eat dinner. Love you.
Wednesdays, tending to be the day after missions, sees Sam safe and at home where you can make sure he wasn’t lying when he said the bruise on his ribs was fine. He's told to rest up with a pat on the shoulder and a reminder to submit his reports on time for the debrief on Thursday, but for 24 sweet, sweet hours, he is completely yours.
Well. If yours means working away in his office, sparing you a kiss and an I'll be in the study, okay? Don’t miss me too much after breakfast.
You don't bother pacing in front of his office door like you might've a few years ago, when your relationship was still new and gleaming and you were too shy to ask for anything other than the bare minimum (luckily, Sam refused to give anything even near the bare minimum, so you lucked out). Instead, you open the door with a smooth click and slip inside, shutting it equally as quietly.
He sits at his desk, face set in concentration — so handsome. Dark skin and darker brown eyes reflecting early afternoon soon, brows furrowed and jaw set in a way that makes him look… statue-like, almost. Like the perfect, all-American Captain America should be.
And you're allowed to say that, allowed to lean against the door and ogle him like this because you've got a ring on your finger and an extra last name that says you can. He doesn't mind, anyways; a minute or two into your unabashed staring, he huffs a laugh, shoulders shaking.
"You just gonna stand there?" Sam says, raising a brow. "I know what you want."
"Didn't want to distract you," you reply, all pouty and coy as if you both don't know exactly what you entered for. As if you haven’t done this multiple times before.--
"'m a natural born multi-tasker, I’ll have you know." As if to prove his point, his fingers tap steadily across his keyboard. His eyes don't lift from the screen.
Yes, Sam Wilson is a natural born multi-tasker — which is a relief for you, really, because when you wander on over to him with a sigh and climb into his lap and ask him real sweet if he’d let you warm his cock, he agrees readily. It’s no problem; he can still type, can still work, can take care of his baby at the same time. Three birds (?) with one stone, right?
“Keep still,” he warns you, wrapping his arms ‘round your waist so he can reach his keyboard. “I’ll be finished in a while.”
"Mmkay," you reply, already burying your nose into the crook of his neck. That’s fine by you. Sam’s warm and built terrifically for hugs and, well, having him stirring up your guts is doing enough for now to satiate the heat pulsing in your stomach. Besides, you’re well overdue for a nap, and so you close your eyes and slump against him, completely and utterly at peace.
You don’t recall falling asleep, just as anyone doesn’t — what you do know is you’re woken up a while later by a finger massaging your clit in slow, steady circles. With a shuddering gasp of something that probably meant to be Sam’s name, your head shoots up, hands clutching at his shoulders. “A-ah!”
“‘Bout time,” Sam jokes, and you realise his other hand is plastered over your ass, thumb petting back and forth as if to soothe you. “Y’ came already, y’know.”
Yes — yes, you can fucking tell. You don’t even have to reach a hand down to check. You’re all sticky around him, hot and sticky and so, so sensitive. You can’t even fight the urge to clench around him when he circles ‘round the sensitive bud another time, huffing a quiet little laugh to himself as you collapse forward once more. “F-fuck. Did — did’ya finish your — your report?”
“Mhm. Sent it off and all.”
“Good. Good, ha, that — that’s good.” Your mind spins. He looks so unaffected by it, so unbothered, looking up at you with that soft, smug grin on his face. As if you’re not sitting on his cock. As if he’s not rubbing your clit, making you tremble. Your mind is still addled with sleep — not to mention all dizzy with pleasure and warmth, with his large arms squeezing ‘round your waist and his hand practically burning itself into the flesh of your ass. “Sam...”
“You don’t even know what you’re asking for, baby.”
“I know.” You don’t mean for it to come out as whiny as it does, but it does. You flex your hips, chewing the inside of your cheek. Sam’s office chair is big and padded and sturdy, sure, but even this behemoth of a piece of furniture may not survive you rocking on top of it. “Just — just choose for me.”
Sam hums. His fingers don’t stop. “That so?”
“‘M still sleepy,” you add, frowning. You throw in an extra sniffle and a wobbling bottom lip for good measure — he can’t resist them. “C’mon, Sammy, don’t tease.”
“Alright, alright.” Slowly, the arm banded around your waist tightens; tightens, tightens, tightens, until you’re pressed fully against his chest. Almost exactly the same position as when you were sleeping, with your nose against his neck and your arms around his shoulders. You stutter out a moan when he begins to move his hips, all leisurely and relaxed, but unfalteringly, mind-numbingly deep. Pressing against that soft, spongy spot inside you that makes you whimper. “See how good I treat you?”
“Now—” Another breathy groan— “Isn’t the time for jokes, Sam.”
“You don’t think so?” Finally, his voice gives out — just the littlest bit, mind you, but it’s a break nonetheless. It filters through his chest as a deep, sonorous grunt, and his hips stammer along with his speech. “That’s fine, baby.”
You both cum with no trouble — that slow-building, soft-yet-intense kind of orgasm that leaves you both panting against each other, limp and slumped and uncomfortable sticky between your legs.
(Wednesday sex, in your personal opinion, is the best.)
Thursday comes with a call from Sarah, and from the looks of it, it’s not a good one.
Sam loves his sister — you do, too — but with the pressure of keeping the family business afloat, debt, bills, and mothering two young boys, there’s no doubt that it’s weighing on her.
It shows itself through a terse, tense few moments that result in the end of the entire conversation: Sam says something like“I could always come and help, y’know,” and the line goes quiet. Then, a short, barely-legible sentence that has his jaw clenching and his eyes dropping to his feet, and you just know—
He feels guilty for everything. Even things that aren’t his fault — especially things that aren’t his fault. Leaving his family to join the military, Riley’s death, the five years he’d been gone because of the Blip. He feels guilty about the bills she has to pay and the children she has to take care of by herself, he feels guilty about moving hours away for work, he feels guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty.
His time with the VA has taught him that, in reality, not everything is his fault — that some things are out of his control, up to chance. There’s not some greater power skillfully pulling any strings, no pre written script of life that connects him to every bad thing that’s ever happened. Still, it hurts more when it’s his own sister. Hurts more, you think, when he’s trying so hard to make amends for things that have nothing to do with him.
Sam sighs when the call has ended; lets the phone hang limply by his side, eyes closing tiredly. All you can do for now is watch carefully from your spot on the couch, tea cupped in your hands. He needs his space as much as he needs comfort. You’d always been so eager to crowd him when he got upset — it was what you usually wanted when you weren’t feeling the best — and sure, there were times he needed that. There were just as many times, though, when he needed a second to get his head on straight. To ground himself.
And you keep an eye on him, of course. Even as you wander over to the kitchen and put on the kettle again, prepare him some tea in the way you know he likes; you give him the room, in a sense, so he feels he has the space to examine and deal with his emotions freely, but you keep an ear open as he does. You listen to the steadily-steadying pace of his breath, the tired sigh he gives afterwards; and when he sets the phone at his side, only then do you come back out.
“Made you this,” you say softly, making sure to place his phone as far away as possible on the coffee table. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” he breathes. His hand scratches at the stubble along his jaw, the other reaching for the steaming mug in front of him. “Thanks, baby.”
“No problem.” You continue watching as he takes the sip, his shoulders slumping, his back curling slightly into itself. “You wanna talk about it?”
“Nah.” Sam gives you a short, humourless smile. “‘s nothing you haven’t heard before.”
Tentatively, your hand smooths over the shoulder closest to you, smile of your own tugging at your lips. “You know I don’t mind hearing it again.”
“I know.” A short pause. A hesitant, pregnant pause in which he opens his mouth just slightly as if to say something — but then the moment passes, and his lips close once more. “I know.”
Thursdays aren’t perfect, not even close, but they’re something just as quiet and dear to you than any other day.
Friday comes as it always does, with a wave of relief and a yearning for the weekend. There’s a certain restlessness that comes with it, you’ve noticed, both in yourself and Sam; nails clicking and clicking and clicking over and over again against your keyboard, watching the hands on the clock take their sweet time to make a full revolution.
Sam’s just as bad. He’s got something work-related scheduled in one hour — 60 minutes, 3600 seconds — and his partner (“Colleague, actually—”) is waiting outside for him to go, and he’s been rotating between pacing up and down the house and—
“Five minutes.” Two pecks to your lips and one to your jaw, hands winding and snaking around to your front, tugging at your shirt, creeping beneath the hem and—
“Bucky is waiting outside,” you laugh, pushing Sam’s hands away for the nth time. “You’ll get some when you get home—”
“—maybe.” You level him with the best unamused stare you can conjure at the moment — which, admittedly, isn’t all that good when you were just giggling like a schoolgirl. “Mr. Wilson—”
He beams at you, a set of pearly whites. “Yes, Mrs. Wilson.”
He’s such a charmer. Such a charmer. He doesn’t even try, he just opens his mouth and speaks and it’s enough to have your will weakening and your knees knocking together. ‘Specially when he smiles like that and calls you Mrs. Wilson, all teasing, his voice a low croon — it’s enough to have you rolling your eyes, a front to hide how flustered you are.
You sling his coat over your arm and tug him by his wrist to the front door like he’s a petulant child — pull him in quickly for a sloppy kiss that leaves him dazed and grinning, before you haul open the door and greet a very moody looking James Barnes. He spares you a grimace of a smile, at least, but his real snort of a laugh comes when you throw Sam’s jacket over his shoulders and tell him to “get the hell outta here”.
“I’ll bring ‘im back safe, Mrs. Wilson,” he calls good-naturedly, patting your husband hard on the back as they make their way to the awaiting car. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”
In truth, putting them both together just ensures that they totally, completely will do something stupid. It’s like they refuse to use any common sense in each other’s presence.
Still, you snicker. “You better, Barnes. Be careful, both of you!”
“Don’t worry, honey,” Sam calls, slamming the car door behind him. “We’re professionals!”
(On the way out, the bumper of the car smashes against the curb so hard it bounces.
Professionals, your ass.)
It’s Saturday, and Sam keeps sneaking glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking. He’s on your right side, doing up the buttons of his button up, tie hanging undone around his neck — but his eyes keep snapping from the fabric in his hands to you, you with your brush in hand, sweeping highlighter across your cheekbones. Then it’s your mascara, then it’s your setting spray, and when you happen to peek over at him when you’re applying your lipgloss, you know exactly what’s on his mind, because he’s got his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Samuel Thomas Wilson,” you warn, setting the tube down. “We’ve got reservations.”
“I know, I know!” He exclaims. “I wasn’t doin’ nothin’.”
“Mhm.” You narrow your eyes, but back away nonetheless to where your earrings have been laid out. “Okay.”
In truth, you’re deliberately leading him into a trap. Of sorts. Saturday date nights are usually spent at home, cooking dinner together, listening to music — maybe ending with a bath and a few rounds of sex. Which is fine and all — great, even. The highlight of your week. But this Saturday, for whatever reason, sees you with dinner reservations at some fancy uptown joint, and so you’d broken out The Dress.
Dark, emerald green satin, with a v-neck and spaghetti straps. The type that clings to you in all the right places and hangs around your knees, sleek and slinky, always paired with something gold and minimal hanging from your ears and neck. Coincidentally, it’s also Sam’s favourite dress on you, which is why you’re wearing it, because you plan to be railed until you can’t see straight. After dinner, of course.
You return to Sam’s side to slide your earrings into place, and his eyes return to you as if magnetized. Your plan is working a little too well. You were at least aiming to eat before having your dress rucked up and yourself ravaged.
You’re clasping a thin, golden chain around your neck when his hands slip around your hips, his lips pressing against your shoulders from behind. Squeezing and massaging the flesh, smoothing over your stomach, drifting up to your waist and down again. He sighs against your shoulder; exhales so deeply and inhales so thoroughly you think he’s trying to commit the scent of your perfume to memory.
“H-hey, Sam,” you say, trying hard to steady your voice. “Remember — remember the res-reservations.”
“Could always order in,” he mumbles — fiddles with one of the straps, rubs over the goosebumps left in the wake of his fingers. “Get reservations for next week. Stay in.”
The strap slips down onto your bicep. The already-deep neckline plunges further, baring the swell of your tits to the air — Sam groans, large hand cupping one before you can argue, brushing a thumb over your nipple, and—
Sunday sees you bent over the kitchen counter, pancake batter (and your panties) forgotten somewhere to the side. Your right cheek has made good friends with the cold, smooth surface of the kitchen island; after all, it's one of Sammy's favourite places to—
"Fuck," you whine, stumbling unevenly on your tiptoes, corners and edges digging into your hips and tummy, “C’mon — right — right there… Ngh, Sammy—”
His hand lifts momentarily from your hip and you wait for it, you wait for the inevitable pressure, the impending smack against your ass — and it comes, of course, needle-sharp at first, but this spreading, burning warmth right after. Choking on your own breath, you scramble to find something to hold onto — but the counter is too smooth, too shiny, and Sam’s hands are too far away to grip, and, and—
God, you’re full. You’re not sure how every time feels like you’re taking more and more of him, but it does. Could be because he’s packing; could also be because you’d barely had time to react before you were laying on your back with two of his fingers knuckle deep in your pussy and the stove promptly turned off.
Something about Sundays makes Sam insatiable. Like, softly so, if that makes sense. Something about domesticity and sleeping in until 10 AM and making pancakes together — something about that pastel yellow apron and the soft music playing in the background, the shine of your wedding ring glittering in the mid-morning sun.
You’ve teased him before about it — snickered about his marriage kink and his baby kink and whatever other kink you’d thought up — but now, with your face smushed up on one side and your entire body being wracked with pleasure, his hips slapping against your ass, you thank every god, deity and higher power that your husband has got whatever thing he’s into, because almost every Sunday starts (and/or ends) with your guts being rearranged.
Which is nice. Especially when said husband is generous with giving orgasms. Proven now by how one of his hands — his blessed, calloused hands — jams itself between your body and the countertop and finds your clit. And not just finds it: rubs at it, rolls it underneath his fingers, presses against it until your voice breaks and your back arches and you gasp out his name in that way he likes.
That’s all it takes for him to follow you over the edge; just the sticky, silky walls of your pussy pulsing around him, his name shuddered out long and drawn-out. Sam slumps forward with a groan of your name and something that sounds like I love you, nose nudging against your back — it’s all warmth that fills you up, spurt after spurt of it that leaves you satisfied and satiated.
You feel his chest, all hard lines and bulging muscles, contracting and heaving against your back. One breath in, one breath out. Another in, another out. A kiss against the nape of your neck, a large hand smoothing down your spine. And then:
Summary: Sam Wilson loves his girl, for every facet of her.
Word Count: 2206
Warnings: Mostly fluff and then some sexy times at the end so; 18 + ONLY PLEASE AND THANK YOU
A/N: I am loving Sam and wanted to give him some nice wholesome loving. Also: until I wrote this I had no idea how much I rely on dialogue for Sam. Writing him with almost no dialogue was so hard!
Please let me know what you think? Any and all comments and/or reblogs are all held dearly to my heart and will all be responded to :D
Amazing art made by the equally amazing @nacho-bucky
She’s an enigma. Shy smiles and soft touches wrapped in pretty skin, touched with sunshine and sugar. Firm strokes and velvet voice in the inky black, teeth bright white in the moonlight where she takes his pleasure as her own.
She’s an enigma. An agent with a razor sharp mind who can out shoot Bucky, strategise better than Steve, and wear more faces than Natasha. Clumsy missed steps in public and loud raucous laughter at cartoons aimed at children.
Sam Wilson fell in lust with her after seeing her take down three men in ten seconds after saving Tony Stark's life, and he fell in love with her when she beat Wanda in a chocolate eating contest. Sticky sweet mess over her lips and fingers, still more beautiful than anyone else, and she demanded that Sam order her pizza because only he knew the best place.
She kept him on his toes, barked orders when he was in flight, velvet voice made diamond hard in the face of potential danger, followed by sparkling eyes holding onto crystal tears when she saw he had come back from a solo mission with as little as a scratch.
His enigma loved him for all he was. Whispered it into his ear in the hushed sanctuary of their shared apartment in the Tower, and yelled it loudly for all to hear in Central Park when the fans got too close. Held his hand during walks on sunny days and used those same hands to slam him into the mat during training.
To love her, and to be loved by her was a constant state of desire and peace. Seething frustration at not being at her side during missions, and sweet relief at having her curl herself around him, fitting perfectly in the space in his arms made for her.
Minutes without her hurt worse than a gut punch and dragged out into unending stretches of wasted time. Hours in her presence flew by faster than Sam could ever manage on the upgraded wings Tony had made for him.
She was a contradiction, the ying to his yang, smooth shimmering oil to his cool and clear water. She was an enigma and Sam loved her more and more each passing day.
They shouldn’t blend so well, with her all fire and spark, ready to blow up, or provide life saving warmth depending on her mood. Not with how Sam craved her laughter as much as those sweet sounds he could pull from her throat when they were alone.
The first time Sam had told his enigma that he loved her, whiskey and steak giving him the courage on the date he had carefully planned for just this moment, she had shrugged. Small smile that looked like any other followed by a raise of her glass and,
“To us, Sammy.”
Nonplussed could never do his feelings justice.
When she told him she loved him for the first time, it was in front of a room full of agents, and after she had yelled blue murder at half of them for performing so poorly in a training task. The end of her rant had ended in;
“Everyone get the hell out and don’t come back until you can learn to take orders! Except you, Sam. I love you, so you can stay.”
Steve had choked on water. Bucky had grinned smugly and Sam thought he might not need his wings to fly again. Was she professional? No. Did she get reprimanded and threatened to be moved to another state due to “conflict of interests”? Yes.
They never moved her though, or him. Good agents were hard to find, and she was the best.
And she was his.
That night, her touch was a brand, his a relief. His bed became her heaven, her body was his temple. Sam had never loved anyone like he could with her. Every inch of them exposed, and not just their skin - such pretty skin she had - but their souls.
His enigma was his addiction that made him whole.
Missions were a separate thing. Sam took his orders and she asked him for help, not that she ever seemed to need it. Missions were where other lives were at stake, other people’s lovers were the ones in danger and Sam and his enigma were there to save them. Feelings were kept inside pretty boxes in their heads, never locked and always glowing, ready to be opened again… but they had to be separate.
After a mission, all bets were off.
Dark corners became small havens. The gym saw more than one type of exertion. Many times did Sam have to drag her out of a meeting room or the kitchen when the others would walk in and see far too much.
Admonitions and threats would follow them from whatever room they were chased from, but Sam only heard her laughter and sultry promises for when they were alone again.
She was a contradiction. Soft and sweet promises in the hushed safety of their shared room. Strong arms holding him tight under sweet smelling sheets and murmurs of love and eternal devotion. Promises made and kept until both of them were breathless, skin glowing with sweat and sleep pulled at them together. Making love had never felt so good.
She was a contradiction. Greedy fingers seeking out secret places when other people were around. Eyes like a hawks that saw moments of opportunity where there should be none.
He loved her, she kept him on his toes.
Missions kept them apart, but she was there afterwards with a smile or a scowl, depending on how the mission went. A mission went bad, Sam received a tongue lashing in front of the team, followed by sobs and pleas to “never get hurt” in private. When they went well…
Sam had been a friend, a confidant, a roommate long before he had been hers. His enigma too, she had been there for many people before making him hers with a look from sugar glazed eyes. The time after a mission was not just for them. Successful or not… the team would need to come together. Galas and balls organised by Tony (obviously), or more sedate movie nights which were organised by Bucky and Wanda (surprisingly).
Tiredness from a long journey home on an already poor sleep schedule meant that Sam cared more about the story told between the sheets in his bed, with her in his arms, then whatever was going on on the large TV screen… alas, he was summoned, however. The team needed to bond after a mission, and Bucky had found the “perfect movie”. Apparently.
“This flick better have a lot of gratuitous violence. Or sex. Or both, Barnes,”
Her voice was hard, full of all the frustrations of not being with Sam… but her face was smiling. Never would she really tell off Bucky Barnes for wanting to be with his friends after a mission where he had had to pull the trigger once again.
Bucky promised at least one of those things to her, she laughed, Sam was dragged behind her to the mid sized couch at the back where she had already added extra blankets and pillows. A little comfy sanctuary to watch other people do crazy shit from.
And Bucky still smiled because they were all there. It meant a lot to Sam, even if he would never openly admit it… but she knew. That was what mattered.
She was… devilish. The movie starts, Sam barely pays attention. Something crazy about a dead cop and being turned into a robot… sleep pulls at him. She’s laying next to him, soft scents and velvet skin… his friends are happily making fun of the plot and Tony starts calling Bucky, Robocop…
She shifts… just a little… moving the blanket just a little higher and nuzzling against his neck…
Firm strokes and velvet voice in the inky black…
A groan almost chokes him… this isn’t the inky black and this is far from their room, but her hand is sneaking its way into his sweatpants and he’s already half hard for her. One idle touch and he’s ready for her… devil and angel and enigma…
Soft strokes. Barely touching. The lightning in his spine has barely started, a storm that could be blown away… if he lets it. Sam knows he holds the cards here. She will stop if he says so.
Maybe he ought to make it worth her while…
He doesn’t make her stop. The movie is boring and his girl is fun. Another shift, this time Sam moves, and they’re lying side by side. Her pretty face right in his.
Firmer strokes now. Surer. She knows how to use her hand just so to make the pleasure burst like fireworks… but so does he.
Her own sweatpants aren’t tight, his hand slides easily into the front of them. Sams need gets impossibly more powerful when his fingers meet nothing but skin under the soft cotton.
“No panties, baby girl?”
“I like to plan ahead, honey,”
Her lips meet his. She tastes like salt and chocolate and such sweet danger. The most alluring flavour of woman Sam had ever had the privilege of savouring. She moves just a little closer, her leg rising to hook over his hip and there’s more for him to feel, to touch.
She feels like such beautiful torture against his fingers. All petal soft and he can’t see, can’t taste. But he can hear her tiny little gasps, the way her voice begs in the gentlest of whispers… and he can feel how she’s using his own desire to ease the pumping of her palm against his flesh…
“I love you, Sammy…”
“Love you too, baby girl…”
There’s lava in his veins instead of blood. Good clean thoughts replaced by the exquisite dirtiness of what they’re doing. Their friends, their teammates are right there, barely a few feet away and yet if he stops touching her, if she stops doing that to him, Sam is certain he will die.
There’s explosions and gunshots on the screen, chaos used for good as it helps mask the fact that she’s abruptly spasming, sinking bright white teeth into his shoulder to stop herself from crying out.
It makes Sam smug, and more than a little disappointed. She sounds amazing when she cries out for him… but this quiet is good. It’s a loud silence all for him.
The flash of pain from his shoulder, a burn that soothes, her twisting her wrist that way, and whole galaxies explode behind his eyes. He thrusts into her waiting palm once, twice… a third time…
“You’re gonna get us kicked outta here, Y/N,”
“Like you’d regret being alone with me, permanently,”
She’s right. Regret is a word that doesn’t exist in his vocabulary when it comes to her.
The movie is winding down, a few more explosions and screams, just some casual murder done right as it’s all in the name of revenge… and the room starts moving. His friends standing, stretching, going to get more snacks because there’s a second one in this series of stupidly entertaining movies.
“I need to get you cleaned up, big boy,”
“Funny that, I was just thinking I could use a shower, baby girl,”
She winks, grinning like a Cheshire Cat at him from against the cushions, “We should shower together. I think I missed a spot just now.”
It’s torture, the most alluring kind, waiting for her to get up and having his arms pulled around her waist. She’s at his front, keeping the dark patch at the front of his sweatpants hidden from everyone’s view. She’s close, no air in between them. She smells of vanilla soap, popcorn and sex. Her voice is honey, fake yawns erupt from her mouth when she makes an excuse for them both to go to bed early.
The team buys it, says “goodnight” and “rest up” to them as they leave and Sam has to bite back a laugh when Steve and Sharon plonk themselves on the couch they just vacated. He should feel some guilt but the gossip was that Steve had seen just as much action with his girl in places not designed for bedroom activities.
They leave, Sam holding her secure to his front all the way into the bedroom. There’s no room for clothing now, it ends up scattered across the space in seconds. The warm spray of the shower can never compare to the soothing caress of her mouth against his neck, his chest… lower…
All soft lips and teasing tongue… another white hot release before he spins her back around, sinks into her from behind so he can hold every curved inch of her to him. She’s his home. Sam feels alive when he’s inside her and safe when she’s in his arms.
She’s crazy. She’s wild. She’s loving and beautiful and smart. His enigma with the face of an angel and the personality of the devil. She would tempt him into hell and then scatter cushions across the rocky surface so he could be comfortable.
Pairings | Steve Rogers x reader, Sam Wilson x reader, Bucky Barnes x reader
Warnings | smut, swearing, Bucky being a literal SEX GOD, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, p in v, p in a
Word count | 2813
Summary | you and Bucky get a little freaking during a training session. Steve and Sam want to join.
Sweaty strands of hair dangled over your eyes, the sweet burn stinging against them when the sweat dripped off. Your fists held tight in front of you, wrapped perfectly with a now tinged-grey bandage and a glossy sheen coating your skin. Bucky stood before you, cocky smirk on his lips and hair framing his face from where it has fallen out of the bun at the back of his head, fists held high before a punch is landed to your stomach. The force sends you falling back, butt colliding heavily with the floor and a groan slipping from your lips.
"That's the last time, James." You warn, rubbing your sore ass as he helps to to your feet - the metal of his hand a welcome coldness against the searing heat of yours. Your fighting was not the best, to say the least, and you usually relied on your powers. Bucky offered to help you - but so far he all but knocked you on your ass every five minutes, even after three weeks of training.
"Let's take a break." Buck decided, chucking your water bottle over at you which you barely caught in time before it would've gone flying into your face. You sent a glare his way and Bucky chuckled, throwing his head back and gulping down his own water - Adam's apple bobbing and drops running down his chin and over his throat. You subtly rubbed your thighs together, attempted to ignore the gush of arousal that flooded between them as you slowly dipped at your drink.
"Let's go again." You said definitively, back in stance and ready to fight. You threw a heavy punch, but Bucky merely caught it in his open palm, twisting until your back pressed against his solid chest. Heavy breathing reverberated in your ear, the hotness of his breaths making your cunt tingle and a shiver wrack down your spine.
"You okay, doll?" A husk in your ear, and you were a goner. A lewd moan escaped you as Buck cupped your clothed core with his flesh hand, the metal one encasing your throat. "Seems like you need my help." He smirked against your cheek, placing a few kisses there before he was ripping your leggings straight from you. If it had been anyone else you would have protested, seeing as they were your favourite leggings, but this was Bucky, so you merely let out a gasp and dropped your head back on his shoulder. "Fuck, so wet already, Doll." Bucky mumbled, fingers slipping past the waist band of your panties.
A wanton moan spilled from your lips when his fingers made contact with your pulsating clit, rubbing it in tight circles as you gasped. You could feel him smirk against the skin of your neck at your reactions, wet and open-mouthed kisses quickly turning to nips and bites that made both you and the super soldier groan.
"Shit, James." You sighed and a small growl escaped him when you used his name. He let his middle finger slip lower, tracing your wet slit before dipping ever-so-slightly into your heat. He hummed in approval when you clenched around the tip of his digit, before slowly sliding the rest of his finger in. You were literally a moaning mess at this point and he'd barely touched you. (I mean come on, it is Bucky Barnes after all).
Bucky started to pump his finger, giving your throat a little squeeze as he added another finger to your wet pussy.
"S'tight, doll. I don't know if I'll get my cock in there." He drawled, accent thick against your ear. All you could do was let another lewd moan escape you, the only thing keeping you uptight being Bucky's hand wrapped around your throat, the cool metal a stark contrast to the hot flush that was brushed all over your skin by now.
"James!" You cried out, knees buckling as his palm began bumping against your clit with every thrust of his fingers. A third one was added to your heat.
"You like that, doll?" He rasped, curling his fingers upwards experimentally and grinning at the little Yelp of pleasure it dragged from you. The grin only spread when Bucky picked up on footsteps coming towards the gym, the unmistakable voices of Sam and Steve filling his ears.
Of course, you didn't hear this, as Bucky had super-soldier hearing and all. Bucky doubled his efforts, determined to have you cumming as both your friends walked in the room. Give them a show.
"C'mon, doll, cum for me," Bucky egged, letting his fingers hit that one spit inside you with ever curl, "soak me, cum all over my hand." He continued, nipping on your earlobe and pressing his hard-on into your back.
You could also hear Steve and Sam approaching now, but you were way to intent on getting your release to being yourself to care. Fuck them, you thought - then a smile graced your lips, maybe seeing you come undone would grant that wish.
"I want you to scream for me, y/n." Bucky groaned as the door to the gym swung open - Sam and Steve in the middle of talking and not looking away from each other until a shriek of pleasure ripped from you.
"F-fuck! Bucky!" You moaned so bloody loudly, Bucky was convinced that anyone on the bottom floor of the tower must've heard you. Your cunt spasmed around Bucky's fingers, legs trembling as hands clawing at Bucky's muscular thighs to ground yourself.
"Good girl." He whispered against your ear, smirking at the sight before him. Stood before you, were Steve and Sam. Steve looked like a deer in headlights - eyes wider than saucers and jaw hanging so low it may as well be on the floor. Sam, on the other hand, was also smirking, eyes roaming your shaking body with a hunger that Bucky had instantly noticed.
"Fuck me, is there room for another to join?" Sam was quick to blurt out, earning him a shocked side-eye from Steve. Bucky's smirk grew.
"What do you think, doll? D'you reckon we have room for a couple more?" Bucky asked you, breath tickling the side of your face.
"The more the merrier." You purred, words still slightly spurred from your orgasm, but you were back to thinking clearly. Sam wasted no time, and before you knew it he was stood in front of you and pulling you into a searing kiss. Bucky retracted his hand from your panties, stepping back slightly and looking to Steve.
"You gonna join us or what, punk?" Bucky smiled amusedly as his best friend, who was trying his hardest not to stare at your semi-naked body. Your hands were gripping Sam's biceps tightly, hips rocking over her thigh that he had spotted between your legs as you moaned into his mouth. When he pulled away to scold steve you were panting.
"What's wrong, old man? Forgotten what an orgasm is? When was the last time you got laid?" Sam teased, tone mockingly accusatory but it worked. A scowl quickly spread over Steve's face, arms crossing over his chest to show case his bulging muscles.
"Just because I'm old doesn't mean I don't know what I'm doing." Steve remarked and Bucky rose a brow.
"Really, pal? Because I don't remember you being with a lot of women back in the day." Bucky teased and Steve sent him a look.
"Yeah, well, I spent a couple months working only with a group of girls after I was injected, remember?" Steve said, his boyish grin telling the rest of the story.
"Well, Mr America's most wanted, why don't you come prove us wrong?" Sam prompted, and by this time your were back to rubbing you thighs together at the though of taking all three of them.
"Please, Steve. I need you." You whined, hoping to speed him up a little bit. Steve took long strides towards you until he stood in front of you, hand cupping your jaw and directing your gaze to him.
"Suck a needy little thing, aren't ya?" Steve chided, pushing your face to one side and then the other as he examined you. "You will address me as Captain." He said authoritatively and you barely had enough time to utter a little 'yes, Captain' before he was slinging you over his shoulder and sauntering over to the weights benches.
You let out a little mph as Steve dropped you onto the bench, dropping to his knees and parting your legs. He begun to press wet and sloppy kisses to your inner thighs, kissing ever exposed bit of skin he could find except where you needed him most.
"Captain!" You whined, wishing he would hurry up a little. Steve rolled his eyes at your childish behaviour but suddenly stopped and let out a groan when you buried your short fingers in his hair and attempted to pull his head into your core.
"Patience, little one." He chided, and the nickname nearly made you want to cry with want. Steve was the only person at the tower that called you 'little one', and he only did so when he was scolding you or agitated with you. You never thought it'd be such a turn-on during sex, especially coming from his lips.
"Woah, woah, woah. Back up," Sam interrupted suddenly, just as Steve went to place a kiss over your clothes heat. "Steve actually knows what eating a girl out means?" He inquired and Steve scoffed.
"Jesus, Sam! I'm from the forties not a fuckin' nunnery!" Steve exclaimed and Sam raised his hands up in surrender.
"Alright, man." He backed off a little and Steve shook his head before turning back to you and resuming to tease you over your panties. You gasp when he ran a finger over your covered slit, some of the remnants of your orgasm seeping through the fabric and transferring onto his finger. Steve brought the now damp finger to his mouth and sucked it clean, moaning at your taste.
"You taste so good, little one, like fuckin' honey I swear." Steve groaned and before you could respond another gasp was released as you felt the fabric of your panties being ripped from your skin. Steve pocketing the scrap of fabric did not go unnoticed by you or the boys, and Bucky smirked out how confident his little Stevie had become.
"Captain, please!" You whined impatiently, desperate to feel his mouth on you. Steve's lips curled into a smirk, before they were descending on you. You bucked your hips up into his mouth, but Steve tutted you and pinned your hips down with his arm, keeping you from moving again. He licked a stripe up from you slit to your clit and back again, doing this a few times and making you try to thrash your hips. Steve stopped at your entrance and pushed his tongue into your pulsing heat, pumping the warm muscle in-and-out, tearing pornographic moans from your lips.
Your hands found their way down to Steve hair, tangling your fingers into his blonde locks and tugging harshly, getting a groan from him as Steve's tongue curled around inside you, stroking your walls. Your cunt clenched around him and Steve moaned into you in response, sending vibrations throughout you core. You shuddered as Steve started to rub circles on your clit, adding too much to the sensation and you came screaming Steve's name.
As slap to your thigh caused you to jolt, crying out when the contact was made.
"What did you just call me?" Steve demanded and you stuttered, a babbling mess as he kept up him ministrations.
Steve pulled away but didn't stop, moving his fingers from your clit to your entrance and pushing them in to the knuckle, pulling out to the tips and pushing back in, while waiting for his answer.
"I'm s-sorry, Captain!" You managed finally.
"Good girl." Steve groaned before he lowered his mouth to your clit and lapped around it, flicking it with his tongue. Your eyes rolled as Steve sucked your clit into his mouth, nipping it and dragging it out with his teeth. You soon came again, biting your bottom lip almost hard enough to draw blood.
He kept going, curling his fingers upwards and trying to finger your spot.
"Captain!" You moaned as he found it, making him reangle his fingers to hit it with every thrust. His mouthy worked at your clit still, bringing you to a third orgasm from just Steve's tongue and fingers that made your whole body shake. Steve pulled away and smirked at you, climbing over you and kissing you. You could taste your own sweetness in the kiss and moaned into his mouth.
When he pulled away your face was full of a fucked-out expression, one that made Bucky coo as he stroked your cheek lovingly a after Steve had stepped back.
"You tired already, baby?" He said sweetly, his thumb pulling at your swollen bottom lip and dragging it towards your thin with his thumb. It bounced back into place as you nodded, eyes barely open. "Tough. You still haven't taken any of our cocks and poor Sammy hasn't even got his hands on this perfect body of your." Buck murmured in your ear, his breath hot and intoxicating against your skins as your eyes widened at his words.
He stepped aside with a wicked smirk, holding his arm out in gesture towards you for Sam. Sam stepped forwards eagerly, leaning down to place a bruising kiss against your lips and before you knew it the Falcon had your legs wrapped around his waist and you back slammed against the wall.
His lips trailed over you jaw, down your neck as your head fell back against the wall, a lewd moan escaping you when you felt his hardness press into your bare cunt.
"Sam, please." You whined breathily, trying to wiggle your hips against him as persuasion. Bucky and Steve chuckled from behind sam, and when you dared to glance over his shoulder a new flood of arousal flocked to your entrance at the sights of both men stripped and stroking their cocks. A groan spilled from you lips and Sam smirked against you skin, using a hand to pull his work out shorts down and pull his cock from his boxers.
"You ready, baby?" He husked in your ear, running his length through you folds and letting the head bump you clit as he collected your wetness.
"Fuck, please, just get inside me." You moaned, head lolling forward to rest against his shoulder. Sam let out a guttural groan as he entered you, throw in head back as he bottomed out. He stayed still for a moment, giving some time to adjust and chucking again when you tried to move on his dick.
The man pulled his hips back, slamming them against them with so much force you could see stars.
"Fuck!" You screamed, biting down on Sam's shoulder to try and keep quiet - fully aware that anyone else at the tower could walk into the gym at any moment to see Sam railing you against the wall and Steve and Bucky jerking off at the sight.
"That's it," Sam groaned, smirking as you screamed when he hit that spit deep inside you, "taking my cock so well in this tight little pussy." He praised, hands braced against the wall behind you as he thrusted harshly up into you. You were a babbling, moaning mess, reaching for you clit to push yourself over the edge again. The accompanied sounds of all three men groaning and moaning was enough to spurt in your release again, and you soon hit your peak crying out Sam's name.
He rode out your orgasm with a few more hard pumps, groaning your name as he released inside you. Sam's forehead pressed to yours, heavy breaths shared as you both calmed down. "Fuck, that was good." He grinned, slowly pulling out of you and setting you down on the ground. You kept your hands resting on his shoulders, untrusting of your own strength when it came to your now-wobbly legs. "You didn't think we were done, did you?" He whispered huskily in your ear, you eyes darting nervously to the two super soldier's with rock hard cock slapping against their stomachs behind Sam.
You gulped, making eye contact with Bucky as he spoke.
Steve Rogers One-shots, Drabbles and Headcannons | @buckysgirl101 @quxxnxfhxll
Bucky Barnes One-shots, Drabbles and Headcannons | @buckysgirl101 @quxxnxfhxll
Other Marvel Characters One-shots, Drabbles and Headcannons | @buckysgirl101 @quxxnxfhxll