TRIGGER WARNINGS: non-consensual male oral sex; someone's arms are restrained; someone points a gun and knife at someone. And enough dirty-talking to earn you a golden ticket to hell ;)


Steve's eyelids lower. He looks Bucky up and down, his eyes climbing up each and every one of Bucky's abdominal muscles like they're a ladder. "I think we're done here."

I'm still in my post-orgasm haze, but Steve's words jerk me awake. His tone is incongruent with his dilated pupils, with the sheen on his forehead, and definitely with that massive…

My stomach twists into knots. On the one hand, I'd really love to free Steve's length from its denim prison and ride it till he begs for mercy. But on the other hand, it's important to respect his wishes. If Steve says we're done, we're done.

I glance at Bucky. His lips are red and obscenely shiny. His nostrils flare randomly, like he can't get enough of the smell of sex in the air. I have to make a conscious effort to focus on what I'm trying to do: analyze his face for any hints that he's going to comply or disregard what Steve just said. Bucky is so much stronger than me, it's pretty easy for him to bend me to his will. But Steve looks just as strong as Bucky; if Bucky wants to overpower Steve, there's definitely going to be more of a struggle.

Yeah, physical strength, that's why I can't help but surrender to Bucky

Bucky tilts his head down ever-so-slightly, causing his hair to fall in front of his eyes. I wish more moonlight was shining through the window, or even that someone would turn the bedside lamp on, so that I could see his eyes more clearly. His voice is quiet but ragged. "But I'm not done with you."

Steve's eyes widen for just a second. He isn't actually surprised that Bucky's challenging him, is he? Steve's shoulders clench, like he's preparing to defend himself, but his face is still so open-looking, like he's prepared for an attack but also… welcoming it at the same time. I shouldn't be able to relate to the feeling. I feel a little sick to my stomach (and not just because I wasn't fed pizza when promised) as I think, is this what my boyfriend and I have in common? The same gut response to the same man?

Bucky's eyes flicker to Steve's shoulders, as if he's noting the reaction too. Bucky's eyelids lower and the corner of his mouth twitches. I know that look; he's getting turned on. Any display of vulnerability or weakness always seems to push Bucky off the edge and right into hunter-mode. This is one of the few times I've seen him target someone other than me. As much as it is a relief, it's also a power-trip by proxy.

Another knot forms in my stomach as I question my sanity. This shouldn't be a turn-on. Just for this moment, I feel a little safer than I did before, knowing that I'm not his current target, although there's no telling when that'll change. Just for now, I'm a voyeur, comfortable enough on the bed to watch the same interaction that Steve watched mere minutes ago. Is this why Steve didn't try harder to stop him? Is it just too tempting to watch?

No, there has to be another explanation; I'm not a sadist, and I'm certainly not a voyeur. The most perverted thing I've ever admitted to doing is putting French fries in my ice cream. It's just that Bucky and Steve are both so… hot. Both shirtless, both wearing low-rise pants, they're too good to resist.

The tip of Bucky's tongue emerges to lick his upper lip and then his bottom one in the opposite direction. When he speaks, his voice is so hoarse it sounds painful. "I'm gonna fuck your mouth."

Steve's eyebrows raise; his eyes widen too quickly for me to determine whether he's surprised, aroused, or threatened. Or all three. He leans back and swings one leg off the bed.

Before he can escape, Bucky clamps his hands down on Steve's shoulders and pushes him down onto the bed, almost on top of me. I let out a shriek of surprise and dart to the side so their combined weight doesn't crush me.

Bucky shoves Steve up against the headboard. Steve's head is at a right angle to his chest, which doesn't look all that comfortable for his neck. With his metal hand, Bucky grips Steve's wrists together and pins them against the headboard.

Steve's arms stick out straight above him. My gaze glides down his arms, swooping around the swells of his forearms and triceps, all the way down to the dark blond hair of his armpits. The hair in those two little caverns is perfect, just the right length – long and thick enough to suggest how much testosterone his body pumps out on a daily basis, but not a jungle – and visibly clean.

Key word being visibly; I can smell the sweet scent of excitement and fear coming from his armpits. I have to squeeze my legs together to keep myself from attempting to shove Bucky off of Steve so I can have him all to myself. There is so much masculine energy packed into my bedroom, the walls are threatening to burst.

Steve groans through gritted teeth. Bucky sits on Steve's chest, dominating him. I wince, hoping Bucky isn't sitting down with his whole weight. I know Steve is solid as a rock, but there's only so much pressure a man can take. Even if he is Captain America.

I'm not blinking – my eyeballs are glued to Steve's face. No, I'm not watching this, I'm not a sadist. I tug my gaze away.

My eyes land on Bucky's holsters for his knife and gun, each one strapped tightly around his thighs. He's never used his gun in front of me before. As if Bucky isn't intimidating on his own – the knife and gun may as well be icing. There's got to be a way to separate Bucky from his weapons…

Bucky's pants are pulled tight over his ass, which is inches away from Steve's denim-encased erection. Steve's entire body is rigid; his legs are stiff and his toes are curled. My legs were moving when I was struggling; Bucky had to hold them in place. How come Steve isn't moving his legs? Since Bucky doesn't ever protect his head, Steve would only have to kick him in the head. It seems a little arrogant for him to leave it unprotected. It could just as easily be carelessness, but that doesn't seem like Bucky's style. His lack of a helmet seems like he's purposefully daring anyone to dominate him. Like he's already planned exactly how he'll separate my heart from my chest if I even try.

When I was making out with Steve and he said he wasn't ready to go further, I stopped immediately. Now, Steve isn't asking Bucky to stop, but he's clearly uncomfortable, and he is struggling – at least, from the waist up. What should I do?

Bucky uses his right hand to unzip his leather pants. His length springs free like a rosy-pink firework. Before my brain can analyze what I'm doing, I scoot myself closer to him so I can view his length from a better angle.

A much better angle. Holy f-. The air rushes out of my lungs. The scent of his excitement clings to his black pubic hair. The head of his length is almost as flushed as Steve's lips. The two are awfully close to each other.

My eyes begin to dry out. I'm not blinking. Again.

Steve said he was done. This needs to stop.

The sinking feeling in my stomach mixes with… something else. Steve isn't struggling nearly as hard as he's capable of. And he held me down when Bucky had his way with me.

I suck a mouthful of air into my lungs, wishing the air was cold enough to sharpen my senses. The whole room smells like hot sex and the weight of it is concentrated on my chest.

"You blew me so good last time, remember, Captain?" Bucky would sound like he was sweetly teasing Steve if it weren't for the huskiness of his tone. "You looked like you were about to come just from sucking me into the back of my throat -"

Steve squeezes his eyes shut and moans. The noise buries me deeper in my guilt. It sounds as though Steve is turned on, but I don't trust my judgement in this haze. Steve is crying out in pain, and I'm interpreting this as arousal? What kind of sicko am I?

"—kneeling there in the bathtub, your knees aching. I don't want you to ache this time. I'll make it good for you. I'll let you -" His tone hitches up, his voice almost cracking.

The break in his deep, dominant tone is like a little peek under his mask. Just when I think he's cool and in control, he reveals himself and I can't help but wonder if he's nervous. If he needs someone to take care of him in his fleeting moment of weakness. Oh, if he'd let himself be weak around me, I'd know exactly how to take care of him. I'd make his soft parts harden and his hard parts melt like candy. If only he trusted me…

Steve's eyes pop open. He peers up at Bucky, unable to crane his head up against the headboard. His eyes are beginning to go bloodshot, like the vessels are looking to the cool blue of his irises for relief. His lips part uselessly, as if every tiny muscle of his body is giving in to Bucky's slow torture.

"- come. Maybe." Bucky twists the word around in his mouth like it's taffy, his lips curling into a smirk. He pushes his hips forward ever so slightly. His length is so hard and straight, he doesn't even have to use his hand to angle it.

Bucky rests the tip of his length on Steve's lower lip. Steve goes cross-eyed staring at it. The weight of Bucky's length pushes Steve's lip down, revealing his bottom teeth.

"If you're kind to me, I'll be kind to you. But if you tease me…" Bucky inches his pelvis to the right, his length dragging along Steve's lip.

Steve peers up at Bucky again. His legs are beginning to relax, but the muscles of his arms are still tense. Has he given up? Is he biding his time before he attacks?

My mouth is going dry. As I lick my lips, Bucky slides his gaze over to me. His concentration on Steve made me forget I was in the room with them. His sudden eye contact sends the blood rushing to my face in a wave of embarrassment. Even though Steve and Bucky know I'm there – I'm only inches away, thanks to my subconscious instincts to scoot closer to them – Bucky's gaze makes me feel like I've been caught spying on them.

His smirk and a quick arch of his eyebrow suggest he knows just how embarrassed I am. And he's reveling in it. When he speaks again, his eyes hold mine for a moment before he turns to Steve, as if he's addressing both of us. "… I promise you, I'll be so cruel with you. I'll bring you so close to the edge," Bucky trails the back of his right hand down the side of Steve's face so gently it makes me suspicious. "you'll be crying for relief -"

Bucky clamps his hand down on the side of Steve's neck, below his ear. Steve gasps and his nostrils flare, but his eyes don't widen like I expect them too. Steve's gaze is still burning into Bucky's. He hasn't given up, not yet. And I have to fight too.

Bucky tilts his chin up so he's looking down his nose at Steve. "- and I still won't give it to you. So be a sweetheart for me." Bucky cocks his head in an imitation of compassion. Or maybe there's real compassion in there somewhere, under all that armor. "And I'll give you what you're too proud to beg for."

Bucky starts gyrating his hips ever so slightly, running the tip of his length up and along Steve's upper lip, then back down to his bottom lip. He keeps making those little circles, the friction torturing Steve's lips.

Well, maybe not torturing Steve lips so much as torturing me. I bite my lips together. I can't help but imagine what Bucky's warm, smooth skin would feel like against my lips. I remember, months ago, how he crumbled so easily the moment I slid him into my mouth. How I tasted a hint of the power that he must get so high on when he does this to me. To Steve.

Bucky casts another illicit glance my way. My face heats up just as quickly as it did the first time. You think my body would learn eventually. Every time is like the first time with Bucky. "Watch what I'm gonna do to this punk."

Steve's a grown man – in more ways than one – but the way Bucky subtly degrades him is just so

- So not my style. I'm a respectful girl. I don't think it's sexy, and I'm certainly not thinking about how it'd be even sexier if I was under Bucky right now, having him tell Steve to watch what he was gonna do with his slut

Oh my God, what's wrong with me? "Let's slow things down," I say in what I hope sounds like an even tone. I'm not sure who I'm speaking to: Bucky or my inner pervert.

"I like the way you think, doll." Bucky strokes his palm down the side of Steve's face and then cups his jaw. He grazes the tip of his length up Steve's mouth, tugging his top lip up, revealing his teeth, and finally bopping Steve on the nose.

Steve moans and gulps. Funny how Bucky trusts Steve enough to put his length so close to his teeth. How long can Bucky continue these risk-taking tendencies before it finally bites him in the ass?

A part of me can't help but feel proud at being on the receiving end of Bucky's congratulatory tone. Since when did I start caring about his approval? I clear my throat. "I mean, I think you should -"

Bucky arches his back, leaning into Steve. He slips the head of his length between Steve's lips. Steve closes his eyes. The image is so strikingly beautiful, it wipes the words from my tongue.

But I need to maintain my strength. I may not be as physically strong as these men, but I do have strong morals. And it's time to speak up. "Bucky," I say sharply, but I heat up when I hear the breathless quality of my voice. "This has to sto-"

Bucky has his back fully arched now, his ass lifted high and tight. He tilts his head back all the way, his hair falling piece by piece off his face and behind his ears till it's a dark cascade falling away from his face. His eyes drift shut. A long, slow groan floats out of him, loud enough to cut me off.

And loud enough to make my neighbors think I'm shooting a porno. If I survive tonight, I'm going to get the weirdest looks tomorrow when I get the mail.

Bucky brings his head back up, his hair sliding over his ears. My mouth hangs open, watching him press his face into Steve's palms. The way that Bucky has Steve's wrists clamped together, one of Steve's palms is kind of covering the other one. Bucky presses a kiss into the fully exposed hand and then a slightly smaller, softer kiss onto the base of the thumb of the partially concealed hand. It's like his kiss is whispering, I know you're shy, but I'll coax you out of hiding. Just you wait, pet.

Or maybe that's just my inner pervert talking again.

"I know you can take it, but I want to show my best girl what a gentleman I can be." Bucky is speaking into Steve's palms, like there's a little microphone hidden in his nerves that'll carry the sensuality of his tone all the way down to Steve's ears. "Would you say I'm a gentleman, Steve?"

Steve's eyes pop open and his brows furrow. You've never seen anyone look so disagreeable in such a compromising position, but Steve manages to pull it off. Gentleman? you can practically hear Steve blurt out.

Bucky gasps sharply. His ass cheeks clench, like something stung him. Bucky grits his teeth together but then covers it up with a chuckle. "I couldn't agree more."

He shoves his length into Steve's mouth up to the hilt.

Steve gags, sputters. His eyes begin to tear. He sounds like he's choking.

I need to peel my eyes away from Steve. It's too much.

My eyes rest on Bucky's holsters. And I know what you need to do.

Bucky's ass relaxes. His eyes drift shut again. The tiniest of smiles plays across his face. "Fuck, Steve, I could fuck your mouth all night."

I creep forward and straddle Steve behind Bucky. I gulp, steeling myself. It's hard enough to maintain my cool around Bucky normally; now that he's beginning to lose control of himself inside Steve's mouth, it's next to impossible. I slide my hands down the sides of Bucky's torso. I wonder if I should moan something like keep going to Bucky. But I don't want him to suspect my actions any more than he might be already. I glance at the door, checking to make sure it's open.

It's closed.

Okay, so one more thing to worry about. But one step at a time. First step: don't get caught –

"What are you doing?" His voice is still ragged, but he's stopped pumping himself.

My hands freeze on Bucky's hips. "I'm…" Thank God he can't make eye contact with me right now or I'd be dead.

"You wanna get closer to me?" His voice is softer now, and he sounds… hopeful. He brings his human hand behind him and caresses the inside of my wrists with the pads of his fingers.

The gesture makes me shiver. "Yes," I answer honestly. I squeeze my eyes shut when I hear how weak I sound. You're crazy but I still want you, so I guess that makes me crazy too. I snap my eyes open, not allowing myself to drown in sentiment. I need to stay sharp – and yes, maybe a little crazy – if I'm going to pull this off.

Bucky's still rigid, unmoving. He turns his face towards me over his shoulder, like he's ready to surrender himself to me but he can't quite bring himself to trust another person that much. I need to get him to trust me. Just for a few seconds, and then –

I slide my hands around his pelvis until my fingertips graze his coarse hair. I press myself into his ass, into the bare, warm skin of his back, and wrap my fingers around the base of him. "I want to help you squeeze the juice out of this giant dick of yours."

Damn, now my inner pervert really is speaking.

Bucky lets out a puff of air, like he wants to laugh but is too guarded to let himself. He thrusts into Steve's mouth again.

Steve groans like it hurts. Just wait, Steve, I silently promise.

As I'm wondering how to move my hands to his holsters without arousing suspicion, I can't help but breathe in Bucky's scent. My face is pressed up against his back, and he smells so good. I inhale longer and deeper than anyone would consider necessary, causing my chest to expand and my breasts to push even harder against his back. There's a hint of sweat on his back – not enough to be gross, thank god – but just enough to make me wonder what he tastes like from behind…

My lips part. Before I can stop myself, I bite into the back of Bucky's shoulder. His skin is thick with muscle. He tastes fresh, salty, and delicious.

Bucky groans every time he thrusts. My savage bite increases his volume. He likes pain.

I moan, pulling my mouth away. I rest my cheek against him and admire the red teeth marks I've left behind. Maybe he's been searching for a girl strong enough give him what he needs.

Oh right, the plan. Damn, I need to concentrate. "Oh, yeah, just like that, Bucky. You're amazing," I breathe. Just as a distraction, of course. I need for him to get completely in the zone before I try anything.

Bucky thrusts himself harder into Steve's mouth, but it's my name that he groans. He says it slowly, like it pains him to wrap his mouth around it but he has to, because he'll die without its taste.

I take a deep breath, preparing myself. And I really shouldn't have, because his fantastic scent goes straight to my head and makes me woozy. This is for you, Steve.

Both hands at once, I reach for his weapons. One hand grips the handle of his knife. The other grabs his gun. I yank as hard as you can. I bolt up from the bed.

Bucky's reflexes are quick. He twists, trying to grab me with his human hand. He'd get a better grip on me with his metal hand, but he doesn't want to release Steve. He gets a hold of me for only a second. It's enough to make me trip and stumble off the bed.

My back slams against the floor. As I struggle to get back on my feet, I point the gun at him. I have no fucking clue how it works. But he doesn't know that. "Outta his mouth. Right now."

Bucky doesn't even glance at the gun. Even though I'm trying to look as intimidating as possible, I can't help but feel a wave of fury at how sultry his gaze is. He looks like he's trying to repress a smile, like he's thinking, there's no way you'd shoot me, dollface.

But he complies with my order.

The moment he pulls the entirety of his length out, Steve is a sputtering, gasping mess. He chokes up a mixture of fluids onto his shirt. I'm so sorry, I think as I wince.

"Now…" I don't know what to do with the knife, so I hold it up as if I'm about to stab something.

Bucky looks at me like I'm a puppy playing with a tennis ball.

My entire body heats up. My mouth hardens. I gesture with the gun. "Go sit in the corner."

Bucky's eyebrows shoot up. He tilts his head. "Have I misbehaved?" He rises from the bed and stalks towards me. For an unarmed man, he's certainly taking his time. He walks like he knows he's going to get the weapons back, eventually, and he's going to use every secret, forbidden way of getting exactly what he wants.

I step back jerkily. I reach behind me with my knife hand, attempting to grasp the door handle as I get closer to it. I can't afford to look at Steve right now, not with Bucky threatening to pounce. But I really want to look at Steve and tell him with my eyes: run. I twist the door handle, careful not to cut myself on the knife.

Bucky says my name again, slowly, teasingly, like I'm his pet. "I want what you have."

"Then come and get it." I swing the door open and then I'm gone.