Chapter Four
Being back in your childhood bedroom was bittersweet. The same twin bed was pushed into the corner; the same pictures were on your walls. And yet so much had changed since the days when this was your home.
You lay curled up on the small mattress, watching your window with unseeing eyes. It had snowed last night; a pure white sheen rested over everything. The only disturbance to the blanket covering your front yard were the footprints and tire tracks your mom had left behind when she’d gone to the store that morning.
With a sigh, you rolled over onto your back, one of your hands coming to rest over your stomach. You still hadn’t told her. Hell, you were still having trouble accepting the truth yourself.
When you’d shown up shivering on her doorstep – barefoot, covered in blood, and with no luggage to speak of – she’d bombarded you with questions. You hadn’t been able to answer anything, though. In fact, you didn’t say anything on your first night being back home. You’d just shuffled into the living room, sank down onto the sofa, and cried.
After a night of fitful sleep, you’d told her the basics in the morning – that you’d been raped and kept as a hostage by a very powerful man. Her first reaction was anger, and she’d grabbed her coat and urged you to come with her straight to the police station.
But then, she’d seen your eyes. You hadn’t looked in a mirror yet at that point, but she’d always been good at reading you. She could see how helpless, how hopeless, you were. And when you’d told her that he was too powerful, too well-connected, to be punished for the crimes he’d done to you, she’d believed you.
After that, it was like both of you were grieving. She emailed your professors for you, explaining that you wouldn’t be returning to finish out your semester. She’d even hired some people to pack up some of the things from your apartment and bring them to her house; you’d told her that you didn’t feel safe going back, and she hadn’t questioned you.
Once you got past the initial shock of what had happened, you’d been a shell of your former self. All you could do was cry or sit staring blankly at the wall, trying your best to trample down the fear, the anxiety, that at any moment Steve would come busting down your mother’s door to take you back to his basement.
It was so bad that you couldn’t keep your food down, especially in the mornings. You’d given up on trying to eat breakfast altogether; after spending a sleepless night plagued by nightmares, you couldn’t keep anything on your stomach.
It was only after the second week of you being there that your mom started to question you further – not about who had done this to you, but, rather, a much more disturbing topic.
You’d been hunched over the toilet bowl early in the morning, catching your breath after another round of nausea, when you felt her comforting hand on your shoulder.
“Sweetheart, I… I need to ask you a question,” she’d murmured. “It’s an uncomfortable question, but it needs to be addressed, alright? Did he… Did he ever use protection?”
Your eyes had flown open, and you knew. You didn’t need a test to confirm what you already could feel in your gut, but you took one anyway, and your greatest fears had been confirmed. The trauma, the terror, that you now lived with weren’t the only souvenirs that Steve had left you with.
You were pregnant.
You still hadn’t told your mom, even though it had been a week since you found out. You’d always found a way to dodge the question, thinking stupidly that, if you just ignored it, if you refused to acknowledge the life growing inside of you, then it would go away. It hadn’t, though, nor would it ever, and you were faced with a decision to make.
Were you going to keep it?
With a sigh, you got out of bed, taking the first shower you’d had in days. You tried to keep your mind off of everything, to banish all thought so you could have a few minutes of peace, but everything reminded you of him. It was his fingers washing your hair, his hand scrubbing your skin clean.
“See how much better it is when you just let me take care of you?”
You sobbed, sinking to your knees as his voice echoed in your ear. How long would it take for you to be free? To be truly free of him?
By the time you got out of the shower, it was almost noon. After pulling on some leggings, an oversized sweater, and some thick wool socks, you made your way into the kitchen, deciding that you would start off with some coffee and, if you could keep that down, some toast.
You froze where you stood, however, when you heard the bell ring.
Feeling your heartbeat quicken, you creeped to the door, trying to keep your footfalls silent. Ducking your head, you peaked out of the peephole.
A policeman was standing on your porch, his hands shoved into the pockets of a thick winter coat. You let out a sigh, feeling relieved but also confused at his presence. You opened the door just a crack, poking your head out from behind it and trying your best to smile at the man.
“Hello,” you greeted him timidly. “What can I do for you, officer?”
He looked up and gave you a warm, close-lipped smile, and you were both struck by how handsome he was and how familiar he looked. You couldn’t, for the life of you, place where you’d seen him, but you knew without a doubt that you’d met before.
“Good morning, ma’am,” he smiled. “Are you Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) by any chance?”
You narrowed your eyes, feeling a pang of uncertainty.
“Why do you ask?”
He chuckled, taking his hands out of his pockets to show you his badge. You noticed that he was wearing leather gloves as he showed you his identification.
“I’m Sergeant James, NYPD,” he said. You turned the badge over in your hands, looking for any sign that it could be false, but it looked authentic to you. “I’m here in regards to an anonymous tip we received regarding you and a Mr. Steven Rogers. You might also know him as Captain America?”
You gulped, squeezing your eyes shut as you envisioned his face again – smiling at you, scowling at you, cumming inside of you-
“Wh-what,” you asked, shaking your head, “What kind of anonymous tip?”
“…I think it would be best if I stepped inside for a few minutes,” he said, taking back his badge. “You don’t look so good; this might be a conversation best had sitting down.”
You nodded hesitantly, slowly opening the door wider for him. You closed and locked it behind you before leading him to the sofa, sitting as far away from him on the couch as possible. Once you were settled in, he took his hat off, revealing neatly cut brown hair – it was almost a militaristic hairstyle, you noticed, but his clear blue eyes softened the look, especially when he leaned towards you and gave you an honest smile.
“Listen, Miss (Y/L/N),” he began, “I know that, if any of the allegations our anonymous tip made are true, then you’ve been through quite the ordeal, alright? I’m not here to question or judge you; I just need to ask you a few things. And, if you’re comfortable with me after our little talk, I would like to bring you down to the station with me to talk to a few of my colleagues, ok?”
You gulped and nodded, bringing your knees up to your chin and hugging them tightly. After clearing his throat, Officer James leaned back against the sofa, his eyes never leaving yours.
“Is it true that Steve Rogers abducted you?” he began. You closed your eyes, nodding.
“Yes.”
“What did he do after he abducted you?”
You felt a tear slip past your eyelids, and you jolted when you felt the officer’s hand on your knee. You looked down and saw that he was just offering you a handkerchief, though, which you gladly took.
“Thank you, sir,” you murmured, dabbing at your eyes. His smile only grew, and he gave you an encouraging nod. “Um… After he kidnapped me, he, um…” You paused, trying to swallow back more tears, and Officer James waited patiently for you to regain your composure. “After he kidnapped me, he um… He raped me. He kept me for five days and…and…”
You paused, setting your forehead on your knees and trying to breathe.
“Hey, hon, it’s ok,” the officer tried to soothe, but you flinched at the nickname. “So you’re saying that you never consented to any kind of sexual interactions with him?”
Your breath caught in your throat, remembering that last night. You had been the one to suggest going back to bed; you’d wanted him to fuck you, even if it was just part of your escape attempt. But, surely, that didn’t count… Right?
“I… No,” you finally answered.
“Seems like you had to think about that for a second there,” Officer James noted. “Are you sure that you didn’t-“
“What would it matter if I had?” you snapped. “The first time I tried to fight back, he hit me again and again and again, and then he raped me. I just… I didn’t want him to keep hurting me.” Your voice cracked, and you could see the sympathetic look in the officer’s eyes.
“I understand,” he said, but you only rolled your eyes.
“You understand? Have you ever been kept somewhere against your will? Forced to do something that you hate, that will leave you scarred for the rest of your life inside and out?”
“Yes.” Your eyes widened at the officer’s abrupt answer. His eyes were hard and truthful when he’d said so, and you immediately shut your mouth against any further protests.
“Now,” he went on, shaking his head to clear his thoughts, “Do you have any proof that it was Steve Rogers who violated you?”
“I… I have scars on my, um… my wrists,” you stuttered, pushing up the sleeves of your sweater so he could see where Steve had tied you up with rope. “And I could show you where he was keeping me; there’s bound to be evidence there.”
“Well actually, the police have already studied his home, and we did find DNA from the both of you,” he assured you. “That was the first thing we did after we got the tip; that’s why I’m here. But any semen or similar fluids had either been on the sheets, which Mr. Rogers informed us he washed before we could get there, or they’d been on another surface that he’d similarly cleaned. So, while we do have proof that you were there, we cannot prove that the two of you were…intimate.”
You gulped, feeling your limbs go numb at the sound of Steve’s name; he had survived. And he’d escaped. If this police officer could find you, then what was stopping Steve from doing the same?
“Miss (Y/L/N),” he went on, oblivious to your rising panic, “Steve Rogers is a national icon. He will have the best lawyers, and he will have the public on his side going into any trial. Now, I want to help you. Right now, we can’t prove anything, but if you come with me to the station, we can-“
“I do have something,” you interrupted him. Slowly, your eyes raised up to meet his, and you let out a shuttering breath before speaking again.
“I’m pregnant.”
The officer blinked once, twice, before fully processing the statement. His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out as he stared at you. You looked away in shame, the world around you warped by the tears you were desperately trying to hold back.
“I found out a week ago,” you murmured, surprised he could hear you despite how quiet your voice was, “and I haven’t told anyone. Not even my mother. I… I wasn’t planning on keeping it, but if there has to be a trial, and if you need proof that he forced himself on me, then… I’m sure we could get a DNA test done to prove who its father is.”
“I… And you’re sure it’s Steve’s?”
You nodded. “He’s the only man I’ve ever been with.”
The officer was quiet for a long moment, clearly thinking hard about what you’d said, and once more you were struck with how familiar he looked; it was driving you crazy, not knowing where you’d seen him before.
“You must be feeling a lot of confusing…conflicting emotions right now,” he eventually spoke. “And I’m sorry you’re under such duress. But I promise that I want to help you.”
You gave him a small smile, sitting up a little straighter.
“That means a lot, sir,” you spoke. “I know a lot of people aren’t going to take my side over Captain America’s.”
The man smirked and shrugged, standing up once more.
“Well, to me he’ll always be a punk from Brooklyn,” he said. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, could you come with me?”
“With you? Where are we going?” you asked, standing beside him. Something about what he’d just said was rubbing you the wrong way; there was something…endearing in his tone of voice when he’d called Steve a punk.
“Down to the station, ma’am,” he answered. “We’ll need to take your statement and ask a few more questions.”
“Do we have to go now? My mom-“
“Ma’am, Steve seems very intent on finding you again. You would be safest going with me, rather than waiting here for him to find you.”
You nodded, although all of your instincts were screaming at you to run away from this man.
“A-alright,” you managed. “My boots are up in my room; is it ok if I go and grab them?”
“Of course. I’ll wait right here.”
You gave him a forced smile before walking over to the stairs, climbing them slowly so as not to alert him. When you got to your room, you locked the door behind you before grabbing the burner phone your mom had gotten you for emergencies. You dialed her number with shaky fingers, but, to your dismay, you only got her voicemail.
“Mom,” you whispered, “there’s a man who says he’s a cop here at the house. He started asking me… He asked me about him, Mom. And he wants me to go to the police station with him. I-“
“Ma’am?” You jolted when you heard a knock at your door, and you backed away from it even as the officer called out to you. “Are you ok in there?”
Your doorknob jiggled, and that’s when you knew – there was something off about this, about him.
“Mom, I never told you, but the man who kidnapped me was Steve Rog-“
You screamed when your door was suddenly kicked in, and before you could do anything, the man was upon you, ripping your phone out of your hand and crushing it – just like Steve had done to your old phone.
“I’d really hoped it wouldn’t come to this, sweetheart,” he sighed. “I really do feel for you; Steve shouldn’t have done what he did to you. It wasn’t right.”
“Who are you?” you whimpered, kicking your legs as he picked you up and held your body against his. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doll, I really wish I could say I had noble intentions,” he grunted, struggling to carry you down the stairs with you thrashing around in his arms. “Wish I could say I was doing this for my friend, or in the name of whatever love he thinks he has for you.”
He ripped your front door clean off its hinges and started trudging through the snow with you still captive in his hold, and you screamed, begging the neighbors to come help you. When you got to the police car, though, you looked around and saw no one coming to your aid. With a rough shove, the man had you sprawled out in the backseat, leaning down to give you a smirk.
“But the real reason why I’m doing this is because Steve made a deal with me that was too good to refuse.”
With that, he closed the door, not even seeming bothered when you struggled to open it from the inside. No matter how hard you tried, though, it wouldn’t open, and when the man was settling into the driver’s seat he looked back at you through the plexiglass partition separating you.
“This is a police car, doll. You’re not getting out of it any time soon.”
You pressed yourself against the door as he started driving away, trying to wave at anyone who might see you being abducted. Even after you left Buffalo behind, you still tried to wave at any and all pedestrians, vehicles, or street cameras you could see. But no one helped you.
After an hour, you slumped against the leather upholstery, your head pounding from all the screaming. Your eyes wondered to your driver, your mind teasing you once more with his familiarity. You’d seen his face somewhere before. But where…
It was when his eyes made contact with yours in the rearview mirror that you realized. Years ago, you’d seen news reports of the bombing at the UN the day the Avengers were supposed to sign the Sokovia Accords. And after that, pictures of the ‘Winter Soldier’ had been plastered all over the place. He’d even been one of the ones to fight against Thanos before and after the snap.
And he’d been the man in Steve’s sketchbook.
Bucky Barnes.
“Bucky?” you breathed, watching in the mirror as a grin split his lips.
“There ya go,” he chuckled. “Was wondering when you’d realize it.”
“You’re doing this for Steve,” you sighed, feeling your newly-found freedom slip right through your fingers.
“Mostly, yeah,” he confirmed. “I mean, you hurt him pretty bad, doll. And not just with your little Swiss army knife. You broke the guy’s heart.”
“He raped me! He tortured me-“
“I know, I know,” he interrupted. “I know. He’s not the same kid I grew up with. And back then, I would’ve been ashamed of him for what he’s done to you.
“But I can get it. Neither of us are the same people we were back then. We both got so much darker, doll. I’m not saying what he’s done to you is right. And I sure as shit ain’t saying what I’m gonna do to you is right. But it’s a small price to pay for the things we’ve had to see and do over the years.”
Your blood ran cold, and you once more pressed yourself against he door, putting as much distance as possible between the two of you.
“What… what you’re going to do to me?” you repeated.
Bucky nodded, tapping against the steering wheel absentmindedly. You could see that he’d taken his gloves off, and now he had both hands, one flesh and one metal, exposed as he drove.
“That’s part of the deal Steve made with me. See, we shared a lot of things when we were younger. Toys, clothes, that sorta thing. So…when Steve told me that, in return for me chasing you down and bringing you to him, he would share you with me, the idea really appealed to me. The three of us’ll live together, just like a little family. Especially now that you’ve got a little one on the way-“
“You’re fucking insane,” you spat, starting once more to pound at the window you’d been leaning against. “You’re both fucking crazy!”
All Bucky did was chuckle, nodding his head.
“Yeah, you’re probably right, sweetheart.”
_______
Eventually, you must’ve fallen asleep, because when you woke up, the car was stopped and Bucky was leaning over you in the backseat, trying to pick you up. You immediately were on high-alert, and you swiftly kicked him in the chin and crawled around him, throwing yourself out of the car.
You landed face-first in the snow, and your bare feet were already aching as you scrambled to stand up. Bucky huffed but made no move to put his hands on you again, and when you took a look around yourself, you soon realized why.
It was nighttime, but the thick snow gleamed in the moonlight, illuminating the thick forest all around you. You saw the tire tracks from Bucky’s stolen car wind down a long driveway, disappearing around a bend about a hundred yards away from you; you would never outrun him.
“Go ahead and start walking, dollface,” Bucky drawled, coming to stand beside you. “It’s about three miles from the first stop sign. Ten miles from any neighbors. Go ahead and see how far you’ll make it before your toes start freezing and breaking off.”
You whined, hugging yourself in the cold. Your tears left frozen tracks down your face, and when Bucky put his arm around you, you couldn’t even muster the strength to shake him off.
“Listen, hon,” he murmured. “Steve is gonna wanna punish you for running off on him. But if you get it over with and let him do what he wants to you, I promise I’ll be gentle. I’ll even be nice. But you’ll have to behave.”
You let out a sob, letting him pull you into his arms as you cried into his chest. He shushed you softly, his footsteps crunching in the snow as he carried you to a small cabin close by.
You were right back to where you’d started. The only difference was that, now, you had two super soldiers holding you in captivity.
You held your breath as Bucky walked into the cottage with you, and you flinched when you heard a record player – ‘It’s Been A Long, Long Time’. It was the same song you’d danced to with Steve a month ago, and tonight, it had an even more sinister feel to it.
No words were spoken as he set you down on a sofa, and you kept your eyes resolutely on the ground. It didn’t really matter, though; you could sense Steve nearby. You could feel his eyes on you. You tried to keep your crying quiet, a skill you’d gotten good at over the last month.
You could hear Bucky whisper something to Steve, and then two pairs of footsteps walked away into the other room. You strained your ears, trying to make out what was being said. You thought you heard Steve’s voice say something like, “Are you sure?”
Eventually, you gave up, staring into the warm fireplace just to the right of the couch. The glow and heat radiating from it should’ve been comforting, but nothing could soothe the ache, the emptiness in your chest. You’ll never be able to escape, you thought. You should’ve given in when you had the chance.
All too soon, you heard the footsteps approaching again, and soon you saw a pair of jean-clad legs come into view. A throat cleared above you, and reluctantly you looked upwards.
Steve was glaring back down at you, and you were surprised to see his face freshly-shaven. Somehow, it made him look colder; you were able to clearly see the way his jaw was clenched as he stared down at you. He knelt down in front of you, getting onto one knee while his eyes searched yours. He heaved a sigh, setting one of his hands on your thigh.
“Bucky tells me you’re pregnant,” he started, and you gulped when you finally heard the voice that had haunted your dreams addressing you directly.
You looked away, neither confirming nor denying his statement.
“I wouldn’t,” he growled, “do anything that could tempt me to do something rash right now, doll. I would love nothing more than to tear you apart for what you did to me, so I’d suggest answering my fucking question.”
With a trembling bottom lip, you nodded, making yourself meet his gaze again.
“Yes,” you whispered.
Steve took in a deep, shuttering breath, bowing his head for a minute while his hand squeezed your thigh so hard that it was almost painful. You were stiff as a board as you waited for him to say something more.
“Typically,” he started, “I would be overjoyed at hearing that, baby. But I think you have an idea of just how much trouble you’re in. I loved you, and you…”
He trailed off, looking back up at you with an almost pleading look.
“You almost killed me, doll,” he breathed. “But more than that, you broke my heart. You made me think you cared about me.”
Your teeth clenched together, and you leaned forward, your nose nearly touching his as you spoke.
“You,” you murmured, “raped me. You kidnapped me and beat me and broke my soul. The only regret that I have is not sticking around to stab you in the heart.”
Despite the fury you could see rising up within him, you felt almost lighter. A part of you was satisfied with the glimmer of hurt you saw flash across his face, and despite how scared you were of him, you knew that he hadn’t totally broken you – nor would he ever.
After heaving a sigh, Steve stood up and grabbed you, roughly pulling you into his arms as he marched into the nearby bedroom.
“Is that how it’s gonna be?” he grunted, throwing you onto the bed. “Fine. You want to make me your villain? You wanna paint yourself as a victim with me as your big, bad ‘rapist’? Fine. Then I’ll fucking act like it.”
You felt tears running down your cheeks as you tried to crawl away, but his hand wrapped around your ankle and pulled you back to him harshly. His other hand slapped you across the face so hard that you saw stars for a second. You blinked, shaking your head as you felt a sudden wave of dizziness.
“Oh, don’t cry yet, babydoll,” he chuckled. “Oh, no. Not until I give you something to cry about.”
As you waited for your head to stop spinning, you were vaguely aware that Steve was taking his clothes off. You knew what was about to happen, but still you couldn’t summon the coordination to try and move away.
“I tried to be good to you, doll,” he was saying. “I was gonna treat you like a goddamn princess. You could’ve been spoiled rotten. But instead you decided to be an ungrateful little bitch.”
You whimpered when he dragged you over to the edge of the bed, and without any warning he plunged his cock into you. You screamed and clawed at the sheets beneath you; it was somehow even worse than the first time. Because it wasn’t just the pain, oh no. It was the knowledge that you were trapped again, and the chances of you pulling off another great escape were nonexistent.
Steve immediately started pounding into you, the bed squeaking and shaking in protest to his harsh movements. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. You were just along for the ride as he used your body.
You weren’t really even wet, but that didn’t stop him. No, he wasn’t fucking you for your pleasure. Hell, he probably wasn’t even fucking you for his. His teeth were gritting together and his muscles were as taught as a bowstring as he focused on your body beneath him.
“I’m gonna fuck you every single fucking day, doll,” he grunted. “Gonna watch you get all round and swollen with my baby. You’re never gonna forget who you belong to again, you hear me?”
You could only whine in response, looking away from him. And that was when your eyes focused on the man standing across the room.
Bucky was watching you two with an unreadable expression, his arms crossed over his chest. You stared at him pleadingly, begging him with your eyes to help you, to stop Steve. But you were met with cold steel in response, and after a few moments you had to look away.
Steve was getting close; you knew all of the signs by heart. The veins in his neck were becoming more prominent; his voice was getting rougher; his thrusts were becoming harder and more irregular. You couldn’t tell if it was disappointment or relief inside of you when you realized you were nowhere near close to cumming, but whatever the feeling was, you pushed it down and tried to focus on anything but the man on top of you.
“Shit-!” With one last thrust, you felt him cum, his hot seed filling you up. You let out a sigh of relief, wanting nothing more than for this to be over with, but your hope were completely dashed when, after catching his breath for a few seconds, his hips bucked against yours once again.
“What?” Steve laughed after seeing the look on your face. “You didn’t think it was over, did you? Oh, no, baby girl. We’re nowhere near finished.”
You yelped when he flipped you over onto the belly, shoving your face down into the mattress so hard that you could barely breathe. His hand came down on your ass hard, and you tried your best to crawl away from him.
“Fucking lay still and take your goddamn punishment,” he growled, pinning you down with a hand between your shoulder blades as he spanked you once again.
He stopped after three more, though, and when you felt him pull away you knew better than to hope it was over. You weren’t surprised when you felt him kick your legs apart again, nor were you surprised when he crawled up onto his knees between them.
But when you felt your cheeks being spread apart, you realized with a cold dread what exactly he was about to do.
“N-no, please no,” you shrieked. “Steve, I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I’ll never do anything bad again, I swear-“
“God, I missed hearing you beg,” was all he said before thrusting into your ass.
If it weren’t for his hand pushing your face into the mattress again, you were sure you would have made your own ears bleed with how loud your scream was. The sting was unbearable; every thrust felt like he was splitting you in half. You could feel the movements of his hips in your goddamn teeth, and it took all of your focus just to breathe in and out.
“Jesus Christ, baby,” he panted. “You’re so fucking tight, so- fuck, so warm-“
You clung to the sheets as he started thrusting in earnest, struggling to lift your head up with the grip he had on your hair. You gasped for breath, vaguely aware that you were babbling, stuttering half-formed words that all amounted to please, stop.
“I wouldn’t have to do this if you’d just been a good girl for me,” he growled, bending over to press his lips against your ear. “You think I like punishing you? You think I like hearing you beg me to stop instead of begging me to make you cum? Because I don’t. But I have to be sure you’re sorry.”
“I-I am sorry,” you cried, trying to turn your head to look at him. “I’m sorry, I swear, I swear I’m so so sorry, Steve-“
“Yeah?” he asked, hips still moving at a brutal pace. “You’re sorry, huh?”
“Yes!” you shrieked. You managed to turn and look over your shoulder at him for a second before he pushed your face back into the bed.
“Prove it, then. Beg me to cum. Tell me you want me. And you better make me believe it, slut. Because if I have any doubt whatsoever, I’m gonna keep fucking your ass until you pass out.”
You felt his hand let go of your hair, and you shakily leaned up on your elbows, forcing your hips to move with his despite the pain. You arched your back, looking over your shoulder again at Steve, gulping when he met your eyes.
“Please cum for me, Steve,” you begged. “Please, I’ve been so alone since I left. I’ve been so bad, I… I deserve to be punished and you deserve to use me.”
The words tasted like poison on your tongue, but they were working. Steve’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he kept slamming into you.
“Don’t stop, baby,” he growled, letting his head hang back.
“Please, baby, I want you to cum in my ass. I want to be good for you, now; I’m ready to be good for you, Steve.
“I… I love you.”
His eyes flew open at that, and you suddenly felt his hips give one last twitch before he came again. He let out a long, drawn-out moan, rocking into you slowly as he rode it out. You bit your lip and tried to lean away from him, desperate for him to pull out, but he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you up onto your knees, your back against his chest.
“Fuck, baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Slowly, inch by inch, he pulled out of you, and you gave a relieved little whine.
When he let you go, you flopped onto your side; your legs felt numb, and you looked down to see blood smeared over your inner thighs. Steve gently rolled you onto your back, cupping your cheek and making you look at him.
“I’m not stupid enough to believe you meant that last bit,” he sighed, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “But I know that one day it’ll be true. You’ll see. I’m willing to give you a second chance, doll. You know why?”
He waited expectantly for an answer, and you stamped down that last spark of pride inside of you as you opened your mouth to speak.
“Because you love me?”
A smile stretched his lips, and the hand stroking your cheek turned rough, gripping your chin and pulling you into a searing kiss.
“Yes, doll baby,” he growled. “I love you so much. But it’s also because you’re mine. I own you, and if you ever try to leave me again, I’ll lock you up in the basement and leave you there to starve.”
He let go of your cheek and pulled away, and you heard him pick up his jeans behind you.
“She’s all yours, now, Buck,” he said. “I’m gonna go make some dinner; your plate will be in the microwave when you’re done.”
With that, he walked out, closing the door behind him.
Up until then, you’d been laying there limply, but upon being left in the room with someone you didn’t even know, you forced yourself to sit up despite the pain in your ass the movement brought.
“Well,” Bucky sighed, sauntering over to the bed. “I’m surprised you’re still coherent after that. I didn’t know Steve had it in him.”
You were tense while he walked over to the bed, but you slowly started to relax when you saw him sit on its edge.
“C’mere,” he said, patting the space next to him. “I’m not gonna fuck you tonight.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, but you eventually crawled over and sat next to him, leaving a safe amount of distance between the two of you.
“But… I thought that I was part of your deal with him,” you said.
“Oh, it is,” he nodded. “And I plan on fucking you tomorrow. But, uh… Well, no offense, doll, but your pussy isn’t all that appealing with blood and another man’s cum dripping out of it. Not to me, at least.”
Your cheeks burned with shame and you turned away. Bucky sighed and set his hand on your thigh, and when you scooted away from him, he made no move to pull you back.
“Listen, hon. I meant it when I said that I realize this is a fucked up situation. And I also meant it when I said that I wanted a family with you, Steve, and your bun in the oven. I think both of us know that you’re not getting out of this, right?
“I mean, you could run away. I’m not saying it’s impossible for you to escape from us, but what’ll you do after you get out? He’ll be able to find you wherever you go on this planet. And most people out there wouldn’t believe your story if you told them. And even if they did, this is Steve we’re talking about. No prison can hold him, and Stark will get him the best lawyers in the country. You’re not gonna win this fight.”
You whimpered, knuckles white as you gripped the edge of the bed. Deep down, you knew he was right. You knew that you were trapped. But he didn’t deserve your resignation. He didn’t deserve to break you. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
“I know it’s still hard,” Bucky sighed. “But if you’d let me, I would like to be able to at least be your friend. You don’t have to like me; you don’t have to trust me. But I’d like to at least be civil with one another. Ok?”
You made no reaction, and you heard the gears in his metal arm whir as his hand came up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“Fuck, I’m crazy,” he muttered.
“You’re telling me,” you sighed. A laugh spilled from his lips and you saw him smile over at you from the corner of your vision.
“Listen, doll,” he started. “I’m gonna go eat. In the meantime, I want you to take a bath, ok? When you’re done, come in here and lay down. I’ll be here waiting.”
With that, he got up and left you, and you waited until the door clicked shut behind him before hobbling to your feet and waddling into the en suite bathroom. The bath you ran for yourself was lukewarm, and there wasn’t enough water in the tub to properly cover your body when you sat down in it, but you didn’t care. With the first rag you’d found in the linen closet, you scrubbed at your body, watching the white cloth turn red after cleaning the cum from your used holes.
You didn’t linger once you were done. Standing up from the now-pink bathwater, you dried off with a towel and drained the bath. You didn’t glance in the mirror, and you didn’t pause to take a breath. With your head bowed, you walked into the bedroom to find Bucky sitting on the bed wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to fuck me,” you stated, startled to hear how lifeless your voice was.
“And I’m not,” he answered. “But…I’m not going to pretend that watching the two of you earlier didn’t make me horny. If you do as I say, I’ll make it worth your while.”
You felt no fear, no stirring in your chest as you made your way over to him, standing next to the bed. Bucky sat up as you approached, swinging his legs over the bed and spreading them wide. Your eyes darted down, seeing that he was already half-hard.
“Go ahead and get on your knees for me, sweetheart,” he commanded. You did as he said without having to be told twice. “Now take off my underwear.”
You stared ahead as his stomach as you complied, rolling his boxers down his legs and tossing them to the side.
“Have you ever done this before?” he asked, tilting your chin up. Your eyes were still looking forward, unseeing.
“No.”
Bucky hummed and dropped your chin, reaching down to hold the base of his cock.
“Well, ya gotta start somewhere, I suppose. Start off by-“
You batted his hand away, replacing it with your own and squeezing his shaft. You hardly even registered the stilted gasp he made when you started to stroke it, pausing only to lick your palm.
“Jesus, hon, you’re-“
He was cut off when you leaned forward, licking a stripe up the slit on his head, ever looking forward, the numbness in your legs seeming to spread into your chest. You felt…empty, totally empty, as you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, going off of instinct to get the deed over and done with.
“Sh-shit, ok,” the man above you groaned. He was now fully hard, and his hands moved into your hair as you started bobbing up and down, taking more and more of his cock with each downward stroke. “Fuck, doll, I wasn’t exactly expecting this.”
You didn’t make a sound as you struggled to swallow around his cock; he wasn’t quite as long as Steve, only shorter by maybe an inch or two, but he was just as thick. Your jaw was already sore, but you pressed on, thinking back to all of the smutty romance novels you’d secretly indulged in and trying to copy what you’d read about the characters in them doing.
You breathed through your nose and bobbed up and down, gripping his shaft and stroking whatever you couldn’t fit. When Bucky’s hips stuttered upwards you gagged a bit, pulling back to take a calming breath before getting right back to it.
“Ohhhh, fuck,” he breathed, letting himself fall back onto the bed as he guided you to move faster. “That’s so good; fuck, how are you so good-“
You didn’t let up, letting him guide your pace until, with a groan so deep that you swore you could feel it in your chest, he was cumming down your throat. You gasped in surprise, gagging at the sudden intrusion, but only a little bit dribbled down your chin before you reflexively swallowed.
“God, baby…” Buck sat up on his elbows, watching as you sat back on your heels and wiped your chin. “What the fuck came over you?”
You only glared at him, getting up onto your feet on wobbly knees. His smirk only grew, though.
“There it is,” he grinned. “The anger. I knew it was coming at some point. For what it’s worth, I’d be angry too. But I think I know what’ll help. Come over here.”
He patted his stomach, and you hesitantly walked over, climbing up onto the mattress beside him. You let out an undignified squeak, though, when his hands pressed against the back of your thighs, manhandling you until you were straddling his neck.
“What are you doing?” you asked, fighting to keep your balance.
“I know that you must be tired of being used tonight, doll,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your inner thigh. “So why don’t you use me for a change, huh?”
He grinned and licked his lips, and you froze when you realized what he wanted you to do. The real surprise came, though, when your pussy clenched at his words.
“I… I don’t-“ you tried to say, but he leaned up, swiping his tongue against your slit before letting it fall back again.
“C’mon, it’ll feel good,” he cajoled. “I learned this in Paris from a lady who had no doubts about what she wanted in life. And she sure seemed to like it when we did this.”
You bit your lip and looked away from him, fighting back the shame blooming in your chest as you hesitantly lowered yourself closer to his face.
As soon as you were close enough, Bucky wasted no time in delving in, pushing his tongue past your folds and lapping softly at your clit, running the flat part of his tongue up and down slowly. You gasped, closing your eyes as you felt your body responding despite its soreness; you could already tell how good he was at this.
He let out an obscene moan as he trailed further down, sliding his tongue past your entrance and running it along your walls. You hated to admit it, but its cool wetness soothed the ache left behind by Steve, and a moan worked its way out of your mouth before you could bite it down.
“C’mon, baby,” he encouraged you. “I wanna hear how I’m doing; let me know what feels good.”
Your hands sought out his hair of their own accord as he started tongue fucking you, your hips rocking in time with him. Every now and then, he would pull back to lap at your clit, spreading your wetness over the tight little bud until you felt your legs trembling.
“Bucky-!” you gasped, falling forward to support yourself with your hands. You’d never felt like this before; a part of you was extremely satisfied that he was better at this than Steve. That part of you wanted to moan and scream and gloat in Steve’s face that Bucky was bringing you more pleasure with his tongue than Steve ever had.
You felt your orgasm coming over you fast, and all you could do was buck your hips and grip Bucky’s hair. Somewhere close, though, you registered the sound of a door opening, and you turned your head to see Steve leaning in the doorway, watching you with narrowed eyes as you rode Bucky’s face.
You gasped, trying to pull away, but Bucky’s hands gripped your hips hard, pulling you back down and shoving his tongue inside you. The moan you let out was borderline pornographic as you felt your pleasure build up inside you, pushing you through your climax so hard that your ears started ringing. Your hips spasmed, but Bucky held them steady, slowly lapping at your pussy while letting out a content hum.
Once your body stilled, you rolled over onto your back, trying to slow your breathing as you watched Steve turn away from you and look at Bucky.
“You learn that in Paris?” he asked.
“Yep.” Bucky smirked and licked his lips, his stubble glistening with your juices. “I’ll coach you sometime, Stevie. She sure seemed to like it.”
For the first time that evening, Steve’s smile didn’t hold any malicious intent, and he looked up at you before turning back to his friend.
“Don’t tell me how to fuck my girl, Buck.”
Bucky rolled his eyes and pulled himself to his feet, bending over to grab his boxers.
“I think she’s our girl now.”
You closed your eyes, exhaustion starting to take you over. When a hand came to rest on your cheek, you knew it was Steve, but you were too tired to pull away when he pressed his lips against your forehead.
“You hear that, doll? You’re our girl now. We’re gonna make such a beautiful family.”