Fic: Proxy
Title: Proxy
Fandom: Captain America (Movie!Verse)
Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Howling Commandos
Pairings: Steve/Bucky, Bucky/Everyone(Howling Commandos)
Warnings: Shameless, gratuitous group sex? Multiple partners, lack of condom use.
Rating: NSFW. Seriously.
Summary: He’s boneless and fucked out, draped lose-limbed across Steve’s front as Morita fucks sharply into him from behind.
AN: Hell; So, I don’t know where is came from, but this prompt plain and simple hijacked my brain so, here.
This was my response to this prompt over at the capkink meme on livejournal.
(Anonymous) wrote:
Aug. 6th, 2011 04:56 am (local)
Bucky/everyone?
I wanna see Bucky as kind of like the Howling Commandos go-to fuck. He’s a valuable asset to the team, but he’s also the local slut. After extra tough missions or when the team needs to relax, Bucky gets bent over or tied down or sinks down to his knees. Even Steve joins in.
I don’t want non-con. I’d like to see the Commandos taking care of Bucky too when he gets hurt or is tired after a round of sex or whatever. Just lots of Bucky being used please.
I’d never written anything above pg-13 before, and suddenly oh my god over 2100 words of redemption-less smut. …Yeah.
There is…possibly more; I’ve got a couple more ideas for scenarios I’d like to write out, but, well, like I said, we’ll see.
Unbeated, be warned, but I did read it over a couple of times and I think I caught everything. I accept concrit, though.
As a note; according to Wikipedia (and oh god, I can’t believe I actually used Wikipedia to research something, my professors would be turning over in their metaphorical graves) condoms were both used and widely available to soldiers in WWII. That being said, this fic takes place in a happy little AU where there are no STD’s, so, as none of these players are capable of getting pregnant, voila, no condoms. Blah blah, we live in the real world, blah blah, use condoms, but they interrupted the flow of my story damnit, so I ignored them. Also, for the purposes of this fic, the Commandos share a tent and canvas is magically sound-proof. So there.
So yeah, here I am, de-anoning. Yay. (ohgodohgodohgod). Enjoy!
x-posted on my Tumblr and my AO3
*****
He’s boneless and fucked out, draped lose-limbed across Steve’s front as Morita fucks sharply into him from behind. Steve’s laying on the cot with his legs splayed and planted on the ground, his own hips tilted to help get Bucky up to the perfect angle for Morita to get in him really deep.
Bucky is moaning helplessly (all the begging, the pleas, the demands, even the breathless laughter and cheerful taunts, all fucked out of him; he’s reduced to incoherence and broken sounds) as every thrust sends over sensitized nipples jolting against Steve’s firm chest; sends his spent, soft cock nudging along Steve’s own very impressive erection and through the mess smeared on their lower bellies from the first two times Bucky came that night.
He doesn’t think he’s got another one in him, but *god* it’s good be be where he’s at.
Steve is solid and warm against his front, stroking softly through his hair, a hand on his shoulder squeezing rhythmically every time Bucky is shoved against his cock, smelling amazing and moaning softly as Bucky laps absently at a nipple.
Morita’s dick feels wonderful inside him, and his hands are warm and firm as he strokes Bucky’s back and cups his ass. He’s cursing, sharply and fluidly, mixing swears and praise in that quirky Fresno accent of his, the occasional Japanese falling from his lips.
Bucky muffles a sharp cry as Morita strikes his prostate dead on by sinking his teeth into a firm mouthful of Steve’s impressive pecs, whining thinly and helplessly as Morita takes that cue and aims accordingly, as if he were the sniper on this team, striking it again and again.
There is a deep-throated chuckle away to Bucky’s left and he releases his mouthful of Steve to turn his head and glare pathetically at Dugan who is lounging naked on his own cot, watching and stroking himself suggestively. Bucky rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, which only inspires another laugh.
Bucky’s dick gives a half-hearted little twitch though, at the thought of having that huge cock again tonight, but mostly he just revels in the burn of being over-used; the bite of almost pain the over-stimulation gives; Steve’s own panting moans as Bucky bites him again and again.
Morita’s rhythm breaks and he’s coming with an erratic series of thrusts, spilling inside Bucky, who’s toes curl at the warmth.
The Japanese-American slumps down on top of Bucky for a moment. Steve easily taking both their weight while Bucky shivers deliciously at being sandwiched between them.
Morita scatters a couple open-mouthed, sucking kisses across Bucky’s shoulders and intersperses it with rough compliments and praise as he catches his breath. Bucky’s groan is all disappointment when the man pulls away and staggers off to his own cot.
Two warm, blunt, calloused fingers dipping abruptly into his hole are a surprise, especially when Steve -chuckling wickedly the entire time the bastard- bucks his own hips just right to send those fingers in deeper; Bucky’s first startled gasp becoming a moan.
Dugan’s laughter matches the Captains as his fingers slide in and out of Bucky’s puffy hole. The Lt.’s breath hitches in a whining moan, thrusting his hips back against the large man as his fingers unerringly find and milk his prostate.
“Think you can manage me again tonight, Buck?” Dugan smirks.
Bucky glares over his shoulder at him.
“Try me.” He growls.
Dugan pulls his fingers free and Bucky is almost expecting the sudden shift as Steve surges up enough to seize the large man’s wrist.
Dugan rolls his eyes patiently, accustomed to this, as Steve checks his fingers. Not even a hint of red and the overprotective Captain releases him and relaxes back on the bed. He waves an imperious hand for Dugan to continue explicitly for the muted chuckle it raises throughout the tent.
Bucky rakes his teeth along Steve’s abs in retaliation, but almost purrs from the curl of warmth the gesture brings.
Seriously, once you neglect to mention that maybe it’s been a little too much, too soon, (and yeah, it kind of hurts, but it feels so good that you don’t even care) and the man never lets you forget it.
They’re all used to it by now, though; Steve’s compulsive need to check, despite knowing that each and every one of them would cut off an arm rather than hurt another, especially Bucky, especially when they were like this.
Even knowing that Falsworth took infinite and fiendish delight whenever he participated in prepping him to the extreme, fingering and teasing him until he was shuddering and incoherent, in retaliation and punishment (and oh, if that was punishment, he could punish Bucky any time he wanted) and residual trauma from being the one to finish, and pull away, only to be smeared with red.
In Bucky’s defense, he hadn’t know it was that bad. Sure, it had hurt a little, but that had only sharpened the pleasure, made it more immediate. The others, unfortunately, hadn’t seen it that way.
Bucky’s musings were broken when he was manhandled over so he was resting with his back against Steve’s chest.
“You good?” Steve husked softly into Bucky’s ear.
Bucky’s affirmative broke off into a sharp cry when Dugan took advantage of his new positioning to dig three fingers into him, curling them just right to hit his over-sensitized prostate, dragging sobbing whimpers out of him as his nails dug into Steve’s forearms.
He left raking trails down Steve’s arms when his hands clenched in surprise, echoed by his startled yelp, as he was dragged off Steve’s lap and straight onto Dugan’s cock.
All his air left him in a breathless scream as he found himself impaled, straddling the big man’s lap, stretched and full and oh-so good. He panted, mouthing and licking at Dugan’s neck as his tired muscles adjusted, twitching and spasming.
Dugan grunted and flexed his hips, pressing up tighter into Bucky, who’s head falls back against Steve’s thigh where he has moved to frame Bucky’s shivering form between his thighs. He eyes the erection next to his head and manages an awkward sideways/upside-down lick before Dugan’s next buck sends him bouncing.
He’s not a small man, but he is wiry rather than bulky, and the mustachioed man probably outweighs him by almost a 100 pounds of pure muscle.
Steve’s hands tuck under his arms to help steady him against the jarring -so good, god, so good- pace and he sinks into himself, just letting it all happen. Dugan’s shuddery moan and a renewed flood of warmth (almost imperceptible against the stretched burning heat all throughout him, but still enough to make him give a satisfied hum) are almost a surprise.
Steve lifts him off Dugan effortlessly (and Bucky is never going to become accustomed to this strength in Steve. It so perfectly matched what had always been inside the other man, but Bucky had had years to grow accustomed to the fragile shell) and if Bucky had thought he was boneless before, now even his muscles were made of liquid. His head lolled against Steve’s shoulder as he almost curled up in his Captain’s lap, a strong arm against his back holding him tight to the sculpted chest.
He couldn’t have protested even if he had wanted to when he felt careful fingers dip just inside him, and drag down the inside of his thigh.
Dugan laughed breathlessly.
“He pass inspection, Cap-?” When Dugan’s question broke off into a shocked moan and a reverent “Hot damn” that was echoed in various forms throughout the tent Bucky made the effort to tip his head back to see-
Steve’s fingers in his mouth, a lapping tongue cleaning them of the juices Bucky could feel running down his thighs, burning eyes locked with Bucky’s own. A shocked, electric shudder worked it’s way down Bucky’s spine, ricocheting off every warm place inside of him, sparking lightening throughout as he stared wide-eyed at his Captain.
Every single one of them had spilled inside Bucky tonight.
Falsworth, laughing, stretched out on his back as Bucky rode him, cursing at him to move, damn him, not just lay there.
Bucky on all fours, shoving back onto Dugan, demanding that he fuck him harder damn it, stop being such a pussy, collapsing onto his elbows as his orgasm shuddered through him.
Jones pinning him down on the floor, legs caught and spread as far as they could go, Bucky laughing at him, asking if that was all he had? Until Jaques had straddled his chest and fed him his cock.
Moaning and slurping, whining when the Frenchman pulled away, head tossing back to impact with the ground when Jaques took Jones’ place, sliding in easy, Bucky loose and slick.
Steve standing in the middle of the tent, Bucky’s legs around his waist, Steve holding him effortlessly; raising and lowering him on his cock as Bucky whined and begged, unable to get any friction, any leverage, both of them tumbling backwards down onto the bed when Steve’s muscles jerked and shuddered through his orgasm, the sudden increase of friction as he rubbed against Steve’s perfect abs enough to send the smaller man tumbling over the edge of bliss again.
Morita warm and sudden from behind.
Dugan again, firm and massive.
All the squad’s release mixed up inside Bucky and the Captain would be tasting them all and-
Unbelievably, his cock was stirring, making a valiant effort to revive in the face of that concept.
“Ste-ve,” Bucky’s invocation on a broken breath.
The expression on Steve’s face was one Bucky rarely saw; hot and dark; smug and sure and demanding; possessive and claiming. That look said he owned Bucky, body and soul, and it was so, so true.
Hot, claiming eyes swept the tent, leaving moaning and shuddering in their wake; Bucky was his, and through him Steve claimed the rest of them. Captain America, sitting there naked and erect like an invitation to your darkest dreams, licking their combined release from his fingers; Staking his claim on all of them, beyond the loyalty of fighting at each other’s sides, having each others backs. Through the medium that was Bucky’s body he was clearly stating that they were all his; his to command, his to protect, his to fight for and die for.
“Please.” A cracked whisper. “Steve, please!”
Bucky was almost fully erect again, shuddering helplessly in Steve’s lap; it was too much, too intense.
“Hush, Bucky. I’ve got you.” Steve murmured. Gentle, strong hands eased him down and onto his side, Steve curled up behind him. There were blankets on the ground, as if Steve had planned this end from the beginning. Bucky wouldn’t put it past him.
Tender hands parted the cheeks of his ass and Bucky was panting before Steve even breached him, voice catching on a moan as his Captain slid inside, slow and relentless.
Those same hands moved up to his chest to tease at his nipples as hot breath puffed at his neck, as Steve’s hot tongue lapped at his pulse-point, at the hollow behind his ear. Bucky took a minute to mourn that fact that while he could bite and scratch and leave as many marks on Steve as he wished, knowing that as long as he didn’t break skin they would be gone in the morning, Steve could not do the same to him.
Steve rocked back and forth in a gentle motion.
In.
Out.
Steady, as inexorable as the tide.
Another hand joined Steve’s on his chest; another on his arm, his face, his side.
Looking up through pleasure-blurred eyes he could see the whole squad around them, touching him, pinching at his most sensitive spots, dragging firm fingers over places that would otherwise be ticklish.
The hand that Steve (and of course he knew it was Steve, would always know, no matter what body he wore) trailed down his chest to stroke firmly over his dick, thumb swiping the head just as he pressed inside against Bucky’s prostate was a last straw.
He sized up, muscles bunching and releasing. He strained his neck to turn far enough to catch those smirking lips with his own, delving into Steve’s mouth, tongues exploring, the iron tang as he set his teeth into Steve’s lower lip. He reveled in the warm splash of Steve inside him as darkness closed in around him, falling into it with a wealth of smug satisfaction.
They may all belong to Steve, but Steve was his as well.