Tony Stark's New Year's party was extravagant. Men in expensive suits and black ties, women wearing elegant party gowns and jewelry with more diamonds than a Tiffany's store. Chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, the lights soft and bright, matching the ambiance of the orchestra. Long, white-clothed tables lined the walls, covered in overpriced shrimp and finger foods, a large chocolate fountain that stood entirely too high next to various fruits and other snacks. Servers walked around the ballroom carrying trays of champagne and little plates of desserts, though most guests already held a cocktail or glass from the bar.
You stood next to Natasha as she conversed with Clint and Wanda, something about Budapest? You were too busy gawking at the lavish scene around you. The Avengers cleaned up nice, the boys wearing expensive tuxes and black bow ties while Natasha, you, and Wanda had gone dress shopping. Nat looked stunning in her long black dress, thin straps that crossed along her back and her short red hair pinned to the side. Wanda wore a dark red dress that had a high neckline and sleeves that passed her elbows, styling her hair in a messily beautiful high ponytail and dark makeup.
You wore a silky sapphire blue gown, the neckline low and cut to show much more cleavage than you were comfortable with, the thin straps were the only thing to cover your back. The skirt of your gown was loose and flowy around your legs, stopping at your toes. Your hair was curled down around your shoulders, dangling earrings tickling your jawline. Your makeup was simple, eyeliner and some fake eyelashes Natasha helped you out with and some red lipstick. To your surprise, it contrasted beautifully with your dress.
You left Natasha to navigate your way through the crowd, wanting to reach the bar. Once there, you ordered a cocktail and sat down, sighing. You picked at your painted fingernails, twisting a ring around your finger.
"Hey, doll." You looked up to find Bucky leaning against the bar, smiling at you. You smiled back. The bartender handed you your drink, you thanked him before taking a hefty sip.
"Hey."
"Having fun?"
You shrugged, stirring your straw in your drink. "Parties make me anxious, there's always too much that could happen when nothing ever does. All these strangers—does Tony even know all these people?"
Bucky sat beside you, sighing like your dad does when he goes to sit down and watch the football game. "Sounds fair, given what we do for a living. You have a right to be paranoid."
"I'm not paranoid," you glared. "I'm being cautious."
Bucky chuckled, ordering a double whiskey before looking back at you. "You wanna join Steve and I? Get your mind off things?"
You sighed, playing with your straw for a moment before nodding. "Yeah."
He guided you to the middle of the room, dodging past people until he found Steve and Sam. Sam greeted you with a nod and a smile, looking you up and down quickly before he met your eyes. Steve gave you a tense nod, quickly continuing his conversation with Sam. You scoffed before taking a drink, feeling stupid for thinking Steve would greet you at all. He's had such a stick up his ass the last few months, barely acknowledging you and only talking to you when he had to, but he was more than happy to ignore you. You've caught him glaring at you from the other side of the room multiple times, like your presence itself just annoyed him. You had no idea what you did to piss the supersoldier off, but you've learned to just stay out of his way.
Although you would admit, with his long hair, short beard, and his tight tux, he looked ruggedly handsome. He was a stark contrast to the man he once was when you first joined. He would at least talk to you then.
You shook your head, taking a sip of your cocktail. You had no idea why it bothered you so much—he didn't like you and you didn't like him, you just couldn't understand why. He was nice, kind to everyone else, to complete strangers, so why did he look at you like you were a bug he squashed on his shoe? And it wasn't like you actually hated him, despite your nonexisting conversations and the spiteful glares, you were quite fond of the super-soldier.
One cocktail turned into two, then three, then two more glasses of champagne when you spotted a server walking near you. Bucky was too busy conversing with Steve and Sam about his days back in the 107th to notice your tipsy daze, laughing as Sam made a snarky remark about his old age.
It was well past midnight now, the guests from the party had slowly disappeared, leaving the Avengers to finish off the eggnog and bacon-wrapped shrimp. You sat on the edge of the couch next to Wanda, nursing your third—was it your third? Or was it your fourth? No, no, definitely your third—cocktail Natasha had made you. Across from you sat Steve and Bucky; Bucky had taken his jacket off while Steve left his on, instead unknotting his bow tie. At first glance, you'd expect Bucky to be the one giving you the cold shoulder, not America's Golden Boy. But Bucky was probably your closest friend. You grumbled, taking another drink.
"Alright, let's go around the room!" Tony clapped and rubbed his hands together before pointing at Bruce. "Banner! New Year's Resolution, go!"
Bruce mumbled for a moment before sighing, saying something about finishing his big project with Dr. Cho. Clint went next, saying he wanted to be there when his daughter graduated middle school. Natasha wanted to do some volunteer work, maybe get a cat, something she could take care of.
"Cap, you're up!"
Steve sighed, holding his beer down at his lap. "Uh—"
"To get laid," Sam interjected, snickering. Bucky laughed as Steve's eyes widened.
"Seriously?" you nearly choked on your drink. "I can't believe that's one of your new year's resolutions."
Steve cleared his throat. "It's not." He gave you a dangerous glare, which you failed to see on account of you finishing off your cocktail. "I was going to say—before I was interrupted—I want to make the world a better place, this time next year I want it to be better."
You shrugged, reaching for a bottle of champagne. "Eh, whatever you say, Captain."
"What about you?" he asked, all but snarling. "What's your resolution?"
You poured yourself a glass from the bottle of some fancy Krug Blanc de Blanc champagne, it was crisp and rich and the bubbles tickled down your throat. "Don't got one," you said plainly. "I think they're dumb."
Tony 'boo'd. You stuck your tongue out at him.
"Aw, come on," Clint groaned. "Think of one thing you want to do this year."
You sighed. "Fine. I. . . I guess I don't want to die?"
"There ya go! That's the spirit!"
You chuckled, shaking your head as you sip your drink. Wanda went next—said she wanted to do something to help Sokovia since they're still rebuilding the city. Bucky said he just wanted to live his life with his friends. Corny bastard.
An hour passed, maybe more, before you started to get cold. The cool air danced along your bare back and down your spine. F.R.I.D.A.Y had started playing Christmas music and Natasha dragged you up. You protested, begging her to let you go. She had your hands in hers, swaying you back and forth until you were begrudgingly moving on your own until your hips were moving on your own accord.
Then you fell. Tripped over your dress.
Bucky stood up, rushing over to you as Natasha tried to give you her hand but you waved them off. "I'm fine, jeez, back off."
"Maybe you should lay off the drinks," Nat said.
"Yeah, how many have you had?" Bucky frowned at you.
"What are you, my mom?" you growled, reluctantly taking Bucky's hand as he pulled you up a little too fast. You clutched onto him, dizzy as you struggled to steady yourself. Suddenly, there was another pair of hands on you, rough as they held you tightly.
"I'll take care of her," Steve's voice said.
"Steve—" Bucky was interrupted.
"I said I got her." He pulled you out of Bucky's grasp, dragging you out of the room.
"Go easy on her, Cap," you heard Tony say softly, "you know this time of year is hard for her."
That made both you and Steve scowl. It is not, you thought as Steve pulled you along, your small feet struggling to keep up with his fast steps. Your head spun, dizzy as Steve stopped at a door. He shoved you in, wobbling and stumbling over your heels. You turned to him, about to tell him to watch it when you stopped. His expression was stone cold, almost feral. He stalked up to you as you shuffled back, circling until you bumped up against a table. Surprised, you looked behind you, running your hand along the dark mahogany. That wasn't your table. Looking around your surroundings, you saw that you weren't in your room at all.
"Steve," you say, your voice shaky. "Where are we?"
His snarl turned into a cold grin and he chuckled at your stupidity. "Are you that drunk or are you just that stupid?" he belittled. "Take a good guess."
You knew where you were, and his snarky remark had you biting your tongue you hold in your dry sarcasm. You rolled your eyes and tried to push past him, but he shoved you back until you hit your head, laying over the table.
"Don't roll your eyes at me," he growled, hand pressing down on your chest.
"Ow! What the fuck, Steve!"
"You wanna know what my new year's resolution really is?" Steve had pushed himself up against you, noses close to touching. You could smell the beer he had on his breath.
"Steve, seriously, this isn't funny—"
"It's you."
He forced himself in between your thighs, your dress riding up to your knees as you kicked your feet out, flailing as Steve pushed against you, pinning your wrists on either side of your head.
"Steve, stop," you begged. "Please, you're scaring me."
"Good," he huffed. "You should be, maybe it'll sober you up."
"Steve—"
"Shut up!" You flinched, turning your head away from his. "God, I am so sick of you and your little games. Playing innocent when you're walking around in your skin-tight uniform, flirting with Bucky, ignoring me. You brought this on yourself, sweetheart."
You're the one ignoring me, you jackass.
"Steve, I—" you took a deep breath, trying to play your cards right. "I never meant to make you think—"
"I don't care," Steve sneered. He let go of your wrists, his hands rubbing up along your thighs. You pushed against his chest, trying to get him off you, but he brought his hand back and slapped you across the cheek, looking at you like you were an annoying fly. You cried out, head snapping to the side as Steve pinched your inner thigh. He pushed your dress up over your hips, your black lacy thong on full display.
"Jesus," Steve breathed. "You wore this out in public? You're lucky some other man didn't try to fuck you earlier."
"Steve!" you cried, frightened. Your heart was pounding in your ears so fast you thought you were going to pass out. One of his hands went to your throat, squeezing just enough to make it hard to breathe.
"I said, 'shut up.' God, you really need a lesson in obedience."
With that, he roughly grabbed the hem of your underwear and pulled, tearing the garment in two so hard it left burn marks on your waist. You let out a strained cry, squeezing your eyes shut as tears slipped past your lashes. Your head spun in a drunken daze as Steve licked his fingers before he rubbed against your clit, causing you to jolt. You let out a strained, garbled 'no'. Steve only gripped your throat tighter.
"It's alright, sweetheart," Steve cooed, his voice suddenly softer, "I can make it feel good for you. Just relax."
You clawed at the hand wrapped around your throat, trying to tear him away, mouthing voiceless pleas.
Stop.
Please.
Steve.
"Just relax, sweetheart, it'll feel good. I promise." He continued to rub circles over your clit, softly and then harder at random intervals. You mewled, squirming in his grasp, your back arching as he dipped his finger into your channel, spreading your juices around. His now slick finger stroking your sensitive bud as you let out a strangled moan. "That's it, doll, just let yourself feel it."
He leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a conquering and controlling kiss, tongue delving into your mouth. You were helpless as his lips moved to your jaw, inserting a second finger into you. You gasped as Steve started pumping his fingers in and out of you slowly, finger fucking you until you were a whimpering mess.
"It feel good, doll?" Steve asked, lips dangerously close to yours. The pads of his fingers brushed against a certain spot inside you and you cried out, hips jolting. "You like that?"
You felt the stretch as Steve forced a third finger into you, your legs numb and heavy. Your head spun, and you thought for sure you were going to puke as he sped up, the coil in your lower belly tightening as his lips latch onto your clit. You gasped, a scream getting stuck in your lungs as he sucked on your clit in the most beautiful way.
"St—stop. . . Steve, St—Steve, please—"
A few more licks was all it took before the coil in your stomach snapped. You let out a coarse scream, the breath getting sucked out of your lungs. Your thighs shook as your back arched painfully, your pussy convulsing against Steve's fingers until you collapsed, lax on the table under Steve.
"Jesus, sweetheart." Steve pulled his fingers from your channel, causing you to whimper. "That was beautiful. You're so fucking beautiful."
His words barely reached your ears, sounding muddled and far away like you were under water. There was a loud pounding, your heartbeat ringing in your ears, strumming through your body. You didn't realize Steve had unzipped his dress pants, shuffling them down past his knees, stroking himself slowly. He let out a soft sigh, lining himself up between your legs.
Your eyes widened. "Wait—Steve, don't—!" Steve used his hand to cover your mouth, silencing you.
"It's alright, sweetheart," Steve cooed, "just relax. I'll make it feel good."
He pushed into you slowly, his thick cock stretching your walls. You screamed into his hand, legs clenching in an attempt to stop him.
"I said 'relax', doll. This is happening, just accept it, it'll feel so much better."
You closed your eyes, willing your muscles to unwind as Steve thrust into you, groaning.
"Fuck, you're tight," he growled. "I know you're not a virgin, you fucked Bucky just last week."
Your eyes flew open wide at the candor remark. You mumbled something incoherent to him against his hand, which he chuckled at.
"Oh, please, you honestly think I'm that clueless?" Steve scoffed. "The missions you two are always taking together, the incessant flirting, the sneaking around like you're a bunch of teenagers. No, I knew, and—frankly—I'm a little offended. I had to find out from Natasha?" He punctuated her name with a sharp thrust of his hips. "You must have one hell of a spell on him that he didn't come running to me after it happened. . . . How did it happen? I'm curious."
He moved his hand away from your mouth, when you didn't answer immediately he snapped his hips up into you.
"Steve—"
"Tell me," he said, pulling out slowly, just to the tip, then pushing back in inch by inch.
"Okay!" you screeched, "Okay! We—we were in Germany, a couple months back, for the human trafficking intel S.H.I.E.L.D had. The mission was a bust, they knew we were coming, they killed all the girls. One of them—ngh—she wasn't even old enough to start her period yet. Bucky took it really hard—"
"I don't care," Steve growled, bucking his hips. "Get to it."
"He drank himself to sleep that night," you whimpered. "I had to wake him up a few hours later because he was screaming. When—when he calmed down, I tried to talk to him, but he kissed me. I—I told him we shouldn't—"
"Because you didn't want to or because he was upset—oh, fuck."
"I—" you preened. "I didn't want to do anything he would regret, when he told me there wouldn't be anything to regret, I just went with it."
"You let him fuck you," Steve corrected.
"Yeah," you forced out, even though that wasn't the truth. It had been more than that. It wasn't just a quick fuck, it was something both of you needed to get past that. You needed to forget and Bucky needed reassurance. You had let him take control that night, something he needed, while you laid back and let him be the one in control over you. You trusted him completely, and that man had pulled more orgasms from you than anyone ever could.
"Do you know why that is?" Steve whispered, his voice low. His hips kept their slow pace, his dick ever so slowly sliding in and out of your cunt. When you shook your head, he gave you a devilish smile. "It's because you're a slut. And he thought you were easy."
Steve pushed your legs up to your chest, effectively bending you in half as he fucked into you faster, his balls slapping against your skin as you screamed, hands clawing at the table below you. His cock was driving into you deeply, hitting a spot inside you that had you seeing stars. He was longer than Bucky, albeit Bucky was thicker. You bit back a moan, refusing to give Steve that kind of satisfaction.
Steve clicked his tongue. "Come on, doll, don't be like that." His hand dipped down to where your body's were conjoined, his fingers rubbing softly against your clit.
"Fuck!" you gasped, your back arching. You let out a string of moans, whining as his hand stayed stuck to your clit.
"I need you to come for me, baby, one more time. Can you do that?" His hot breath grazed against your ear. "Fuck—come on my cock, sweetheart."
You bucked your hips wildly, trying to shake him off you, the sensation all too familiar yet unwelcome. "Steve—stop, please, I can't—"
"You can, sweetheart, I know you can. Just a little bit more." He rubbed small, fast circles against your clit until you came with a scream, Steve clamping his hand over your mouth as he came, silencing your overstimulated cries.
He thrust deep into you, spilling his seed in your pussy. He groaned, held himself still for a moment, then pulled out. You whimpered, feeling his cock leave your abused channel, cum flowing freely from your cunt. Steve's cum. You never thought you could feel so disgusted.
Steve looked at where the cum was seeping out of you, scooping it up and pushing it back in with to fingers. You gasped, trying to squirm away from Steve's fingers.
"You're going to stop fucking Bucky," Steve ordered, his voice low. "Things are going to be strictly professional between you two from now on, Understand?"
Your eyes widened. You couldn't do that Bucky, he didn't deserve to be kicked to the curb like that.
"I said, 'do you understand?'"
The sharpness in his voice had you nodding, suddenly feeling like a kid trapped with the monster from under the bed.
Steve smiled. "Good."
He released your face, and you took that as your cue to get up. When you propped yourself up on your elbows, Steve pushed you back down. You gave him a quizzical look, he gave you a dark grin on return.
"You didn't think we were done, did you, sweetheart?"