Chapter Text
This chapter is from Bucky’s perspective, because variety is the spice of life.
Bucky lay in bed that night thinking about everything he had learned about his… houseguest.
After she had gone to bed, he had looked up the sex interests she had confessed to having and it had led him down a rabbit hole he wouldn’t soon forget. Some of it had taken him aback, some had disgusted him, and yet… some of what she had told him about and what he found online had piqued his interest.
He liked the idea of having control, but he also really liked the idea of someone trusting him so much that they gave up their control to him. Ever since she had told him about it, he’d had to ignore images conjured in his mind, all of her. Bucky tying her to his bed. Bucky pushing her to her fourth orgasm, his fingers pressing into her g-spot while he lapped up her juices. Bucky spanking her over his lap while she soaked into his jeans.
It had taken every ounce of his self-control to keep from touching himself.
Bucky muttered to himself as he turned onto his side on the couch, “I have got to stop thinking about her like that. She doesn’t deserve to be objectified like that.”
He normally just took the floor, but she had convinced him to at least try the couch. Bucky was certain if he mentioned that to Sam, he would never hear the end of it. I’ve been trying to get you to do that for months! Sam would moan, before smirking yet again. Sam would’ve also been proud that he’d used the word “objectified” after they’d watched some political debate together.
He chose not to think about either of those things.
Half of his evening with Sam had been spent trying to convince the former birdbrain to lay off the implications that he needed to make a move on her once she was better.
She deserved to be with someone better.
But damn what he would give to hold those hips while he slammed up into her, to hear her cry his name as he sucked a nipple into his mouth and lavished her breasts, each of them filling his hands perfectly. And those thighs.
Ever since he had crashed through the bathroom door and accidentally seen her body… He tried to shut that thought out. He hadn’t meant to see her like that. Her body wasn’t for him to look at, to daydream about.
But oh, the image of her wrapping those thighs around his head while he ate like a man starved…
No. He had to stop. She had spent so long being used.
Bucky sighed. The more he got to know her, the more he found he wanted to tell her things. Personal things. Things he hadn’t really thought about since before. He had found himself laughing easier and more often since she had been there.
The couch creaked as he shifted again. If he ever found those clients of hers, he may need another government pardon. He’d seen the scars and when she’d first gotten there, some bruises were still fading. It was hard to tell how all of the scars had been made; he’d only gotten a quick look. But that brand… BR. That image haunted Bucky. Even knowing Rumlow had touched her was too much, but that he branded her with his initials? Bucky had a sudden urge to punch something, preferably something named Brock and preferably until he made a new Brock-shaped indentation in the ground.
Bucky always thought he had seen the worst of humanity, had been the worst of humanity, and then something contradicted those assumptions. This time, however, he was certain he had found it.
Bucky’s jaw tensed.
Rumlow and his lackeys didn’t know it yet, but he was going to make sure they atoned for every mark on her body.
*~*
Bucky squinted in the dim room. He could hear people, but he couldn’t see anyone.
“Red, please. Please stop. Red! Red!”
“I own you, whore. You don’t tell me when to stop.”
There. She was right there.
Bucky halted upon first seeing her. She was naked, a tight collar on her neck, and ropes, suspended from the ceiling, holding her wrists high above her. A faceless man next to her held a knife in one hand and a cane in the other.
He gaped at the bruises which littered her body, the blood that poured from several knife wounds.
Bucky called her name, and she turned to stare at him. “Let me help you!”
“You don’t understand, Bucky,” she said. “You said I can’t help you, but really…you can’t help me.”
Bucky woke with a thin sheen of sweat covering his body.
“Fuck,” he muttered. As silly as it was, a significant part of him wanted to make sure she was okay even though he knew she was in the next room.
Instead of getting up, he surveyed the room to distract his mind. It was still so bare despite the stack of library books on the bookshelf. Maybe he should get her help ordering some things on the Internet. What else did people even decorate with?
His eyes fell on the closed bedroom door. He could be in and out — she wouldn’t even…
No. She was fine. He didn’t need to check on her.
Maybe some curtains? But what color would she like? No. What color would he like? It was his apartment.
Once he killed Rumlow and took down his newfound organization, she would leave and restart her life. The life she’d had before Mike, before the abuse.
Before Bucky.
With an annoyed grunt, Bucky stood from the couch and crept to the bedroom. From inside, he heard her breathing steadily, fast asleep. That should’ve been enough, hearing her, knowing she rested in his bed.
And yet.
He eased the door open and peeked in at her sleeping form.
In all the time he’d had the bed, he’d never been tempted to sleep in it, but suddenly it looked inviting.
Shaking his head, he closed the door and went back to the couch.
*~*
She had finished her best round yet on the punching bag and was patiently awaiting Bucky’s next lesson.
He had considered several options for today, but ultimately knew he had to do the one he wasn’t looking forward to.
It wasn’t that he thought she would do badly or because it was physically difficult.
He was unnerved to do it because it meant straddling her, his arms holding her to the floor like she was offering herself up, a sacrifice for him to devour. He already had an inkling of what that would do to him and he wasn’t a fan of finding out for certain.
But she needed to know how to protect herself.
“Okay, so you’ll need to lie on your back on the floor.” He started out strong; no wavering of his voice, no awkward expressions.
She was biting at her lip. One of the signs Bucky had observed whenever she was nervous. Hopefully he could teach her in a way that wouldn’t trigger a flashback.
“I’m going to teach you how to overpower someone who’s on top of you.”
Her demeanor shifted.
“Huh, I used to love being overpowered by a top,” she quipped. Immediately her hands clamped over her mouth and she turned beet red. Loosening her hands a bit, she stammered, “I am so so sorry! I - I used to joke like that all the time, but I haven’t in… well. I don’t know why I said that. I’m sorry.”
Bucky felt his cock twitch at the image, but ignored it to reassure her. “It’s fine. I don’t mind it.” I would prefer it, actually. “It’s good you’re joking. Sam would say it means you’re healing.”
She scoffed a bit. “Sexual innuendo is healing. That I can do.”
Bucky chuckled quietly. More of her personality was sneaking through, either because she started to feel more comfortable with him or because she had been away from her abuse for a little while.
A selfish part of him hoped it was the former.
“Alright, where were we? Ah, yes, the life of a bottom.” She shook her head. “Sorry, sorry. Once I get started…”
She didn’t see Bucky’s widening smile as she eased herself to the mat and lay on her back. Being around her was going to become even more difficult if she kept making those jokes. He’d only masturbated a few times since being freed, but suddenly he had the notion he would be tempted to do it more often.
He waited until she was settled and then gave her a play by play before doing anything else.
“I’m going to get on top of you and pin your arms to the mat while straddling you with my legs. You’re going to use your knees to bump me forwards and knock me off balance. From there, you’re going to use your arm and leg to hook around my arm and leg and throw me off of you to the side.”
“I followed… some of that.”
She gave him a smile that spoke clearly of her nervousness.
“It’s okay. I’ll help you through it. I just wanted you to know everything I would be doing.” He cleared his throat. “Ya know, so you’re more comfortable.”
Her smile this time was genuine, which sent his heart soaring.
“I appreciate that.”
“Sure,” he replied. “No problem.”
They were both still for a few seconds before Bucky remembered what he was supposed to be doing.
“Okay, we’ll… get started.” He hoped she wouldn’t be able to tell that he felt like a teenage boy about to lose his virginity.
Bucky wasn’t certain he believed in a god anymore, but he murmured a quiet prayer to himself that he would maintain self-control.
With the same care a museum curator may use with a priceless artifact, Bucky climbed over her, straddling her just so. He was incredibly aware of the fact that his crotch was pressed right above her pelvis all while he held her wrists to the floor.
“Now place your feet flat on the floor so your knees are pointing up.”
She did exactly that, her knees now pushed against his ass and lower back. He held back a groan and kept going.
“All at once, use as much force as possible and push your knees against me to knock me forward.”
Her nose crinkled up as she contemplated what he meant and Bucky was hard pressed to remember what he had just told her to do.
This meant that when she bumped him with her knees, he was momentarily surprised and was successfully thrown forward; Bucky caught himself on his hands.
While it was great she had managed to propel him off of her exactly as intended, this also meant that his stomach was now aligned with her face. It was difficult not to consider how close her face was to other parts of him.
With all of his training at his disposal, Bucky focused on giving her instructions.
“Now hook your arm over my arm—“ he paused as she did, so he could adjust her in a stronger position— “and now the same with your foot.”
He felt her opposite foot at his ankle.
“No, the same side as your arm.”
He peered down to look at her as he spoke. She flushed that beautiful shade of pink he was beginning to love and muttered an apology before changing out to her left foot.
“No need to apologize. I wasn’t clear,” Bucky reassured her. “Now pull with that arm and foot and use the momentum to flip me.” He hoped she would do this quickly so he wouldn’t have to be so mindful of how close his penis was to her mouth.
With only momentary hesitation, she yanked and flipped, but his body strength seemed to cause her difficulty and while he did fall over, her body didn’t go where it should have.
Because rather than pin him in much the same manner he had pinned her, she tumbled and fell face first into his groin.