#‘No rules’ Is that code for ‘I’m going to spank you on a mat’

[zappedbyzabka]

Bro?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Witness : 7

Just a Tuesday

moodboard created by @chuuulip

Character (s): dark!Bucky, later dark!Steve, too

Warnings: this is a dark!fic, it contains non/dubious-consent elements. Some violence as well at the beginning. It goes without (and with) that this is 18+.

Summary: Bucky arrives for his second visit and the reader faces punishment for trying to lie.

Notes: I am reposting this fic here. It was originally on ao3 but now it’s on tumblr too! If you read, I love feedback and would love any comments you have. And if you can, please share! Anyhow, enjoy :)

You were granted the sleep you had been denied in your own apartment. The wine and the night spent with someone you trusted let your body relax. You woke with a slight ache in your head. As if a pebble was bouncing around inside your skull with every move. Allie cooked you eggs and poured you a large glass of orange juice. It helped the roiling in your stomach.  You stayed until three o’clock. Reluctant to return to your apartment. But you had to say goodbye and head out before everything was closed. You stopped by the grocery store and grabbed the few staples you needed for the week, stopping by another shop to grab a new set of sheets and a new comforter. You would have to learn to sleep in your shame.

When you returned home, you washed your new sheets, this time playing some arcade game on your phone as you waited. Reality wasn’t easier now but you had come to accept that you had only those moments by yourself to enjoy. You should cherish what time you had free of Bucky’s grasp; or at least, those which felt free. He was still tracking you, watching you, taking account of your every move.

You made the bed but slept on the couch. Tried to at least. The same restlessness had returned. One day left. Time seemed so trivial when you had so little of it. Your alarm rang and you sat up, taking a moment in the dark to ready yourself for the day. A new week, a new office, a new routine. You would have to condition yourself to this new life. Let go of the old one.

The office was small but busy. The employees friendly and talkative. You were thankful as it helped distract you, but it also made the time pass quicker. The day was over before you knew it and you were once more sat behind your steering wheel in a trance. Twenty-four hours. He would return within the day. He would be waiting for you the very next night. Waiting, waiting, always waiting. For you. Always watching.

The six flights were harder to climb. The silent static of your apartment greeted you coldly. You laid in the tub for an hour, contemplating at how easy it would be to sink under the water and never rise. You were too much of a coward. You had proven that when you had foregone the barrel of Bucky’s gun. You had agreed to this, albeit under coercion, but you had. You needed to accept it. Get over it.

It was only a few hours. Hours of him touching you, inside of you. Playing with that part of you that was most vulnerable. And he had done it so well. You were filled with revulsion at the thought of how the ecstasy had filled you. Even as that voice inside told you it was wrong, it had nearly become drowned out by the rush of pleasure which had taken you. This wasn’t something you should relish in; merely something you must do.

You climbed out of the tub and dried off, loose shorts and a tee for pajamas. You flipped on the television and lay on the couch, half-dozing as the television babbled across from you. Your night was spent in the haze of the LED screen, falling in and out of sleep. Your alarm whistled its usual tune and you woke slowly, for once, wanting to stay and try to sleep some more.  You were groggy as you dressed, an extra cup of coffee before you left. You drove through your yawns, finding the same desk you had been shown the day before in already bustling office. You sat, waking as you settled into work. You functioned as a machine would, as if pre-programmed to follow the daily pattern. It was only when you looked at your watch and found only one hour left to you that it came flooding back.It was Tuesday.

The foreboding did not relent. The last hour was spent trying to think of anything else. Trying to write only to find scribbles instead of letters. Trying to escape somehow. Six o’clock came around and you reluctantly packed up your bag. The smiling goodbyes only added to your inner despair. These people, they didn’t know, couldn't know. How lucky that they would never be caught in any trap so horrible.

This time, you resisted the urge to drive in the other direction. Granted, it took you five minutes to turn the corner to your building and twice as long to force yourself from your car. You slung the strap of your bag and closed the car door, turning so quickly that yo collided with the figure waiting behind you. Bucky’s hands gripped your arms, helping you gain your balance as he looked down at you. You squeezed the strap of your bag nervously.

“I was starting to think you were never going to find the nerve,” He grinned.

“It’s not seven yet,” You declared as you double-checked your watch. “I have time.”

He tilted his head at the remark which you immediately regretted. He was amused. “Oh, have we found our spine?”

You snarled despite the fear bubbling in your stomach. He chuckled and let one hand fall from your arm, pulling you by the other. You followed. He was too strong to resist. His metal hand was latched onto you like a snake, drawing you into his coil. “Go on,” He shoved you ahead of him, “Lead the way.”

You punched in the entry code and passed through the painted door to the stairwell. You climbed, one hand on the banister and the other on your bag. Bucky was right behind you. His gaze was hot on your back. When you reached your loft, you pulled out your key and shoved it in the slot. Bucky pressed himself against you as you turned it, his erection already obvious through his jeans. You pushed inside and quickly scurried away from him. You removed your shoes and jacket, leaving your bag on the mat. Bucky removed his own boots, his coat beside yours. He caught you before you could flee further down the hallway.

“I didn’t forget,” He said, pulling you against him.

“What?” You breathed, trying not to choke on the air.

“That you lied to me.” You had forgotten, but only because you had been so distracted by the shadow of his visit. It had all become blurred. “Are you sorry?”

“Huh?” You must have looked like a fish on dry land.

“Apologize for lying.” He ordered, looming closer, as good as pinning you against the wall. “Make it believable and I may consider that punishment enough.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Your tongue fumbled over the words. You didn’t want to find out what he had planned for your original punishment.

“For?” He pressed closer, his cock twitching through the denim of his jeans.

“For l-l-lying,” You stuttered.

“I’m sorry for lying…” He prompted and you stared at him in confusion. He raised a brow and smirked, “Sir?”

“I’m sorry for lying, sir,” You repeated through gritted teeth.

Your mouth was acidic. You stared up into his eyes, pleading for him to accept the apology. Anything to make the night a little bit easier. He searched your face and released you, stepping away as he rubbed the crotch of his pants. “I don’t buy it,” He dropped his arms in exasperation, “Not good enough. You’ve been a bad girl, Y/N, which means I’ve taken it to easy on you. Let’s go.” He turned and marched down the hallway, pausing at the end to look back at you, “To the bedroom. Now.”

You shoved yourself away from the wall and followed him, a couple feet back. He entered the bedroom, pulling up the chair as you entered behind him. He sat down, the bulge in his jeans even more obvious as he spread his bent legs. He ran his fingers along his jaw and smirked.   “Undress,” He ordered. You flinched and breathed deep, bringing up your shaking hands to the top button of your blouse. “Ah,” He raised a finger, “I gave you an order, I expect a response. I will not keep repeating the rules.”

“Yes, sir,” You swallowed and looked away as you continued to fiddle with the buttons, unclasping each was like a stab in the heart.

You slid your blouse down your arms and let it fall to the floor. You dared to look at him and the smokiness in his eyes would have made you gasp if you could find your breath. You undid your fly, pulling off your pants and letting it rest at your feet with your shirt. You stood in your bra and panties, reaching back to unhook it. The cups went slack and you removed your bra, wishing he would tell you to stop, but he didn’t. His eyes urged you onward and you ripped down your underwear before you could lose the last of your nerve.

“Mm-mm-mm,” He smiled, shifting in his seat as he sat up straight, “Right, come here.” He pointed beside the chair. You neared his right side, his hand resting on your ass as he turned you. His hand trailed up your back and he pressed you so that that you were forced to bend. “On my lap,” He instructed and you realized what he was going to do.

“Yes, sir,” You mumbled as you positioned yourself across his legs, your head hanging just above your arms as you braced yourself over his thighs. His hand, thankfully not the one of metal, rubbed your ass, pinching at your flesh as his erection poked your side. He withdrew his hand, bringing it back down before you could react. You bit down, trying not to cry out as his palm landed flat across your bare ass.

“You can shout,” He said as he spanked you again, “In fact, I’d prefer it.” You kept quiet, your nostrils flaring as you hid your anger. “Count for me. That was two.” He brought his hand down once more.

“Three,” You forced out as the smack jolted your whole body. “Four.” Another, “Five,” Another, “Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. T-ten.” The last had your voice at a tantamount, not realizing how loud you had grown.

“Look at that,” He spread his hand across your burning ass, “I doubt that’s a lesson you’ll forget. Right?”

“Right,” You bristled as you remained across his lap, his hand scalding your ass where it lingered.

“You going to be a good girl now?” He asked as he removed his hand, pulling up your head by your ponytail.

“Yes, sir.” You answered with all the venom you could muster.

He shifted and moved you off of his lap. You were glad to be away from him. He stood and you backed away warily. He pulled his shirt over his head and let it crumple in the chair behind him. “On the bed,” He pointed. “Lay on your back.”

You let out a silent sigh and did as he said, climbing up on your mattress and laying on your back, crossing your legs and arms as if to shield yourself. He continued to undress, revealing his cock with a sigh of his own. He stroked it as he neared the bed, climbing up beside you. He sat on the edge of the bed, facing you. He reached up and took your hand from under your arm, placing it on his member.  You didn’t need him to tell you what to do, nor did you want to hear him say the words. You wrapped your fingers around his cock and closed your eyes, stroking him as he toyed with your breasts. He groaned as you kept your speed even, wishing for it just end. He stilled your hand and pulled away, parting your legs as he got on his knees between them. He ran his hands along your thighs, pelvis, stomach, and back down again.

He dragged a finger along your sex, finding your clit and drew circles around it. He added another finger and increased the pressure, the sensation making you squirm. So revolted by your physical reaction, you subconsciously reached down and tried to push him away. He batted your hands back with a warning look and continued to play with you.   He spread his fingers across your pelvis, his thumb caressing your clit, faster and faster. You closed your eyes, your hands in fists as you tried to ignore the rising tide. The wave broke and the orgasm washed over you like a splash in the face. You were panting but refused to exclaim. He continued despite the spasms twisting your body, as if he would not relent until you cried out. You came again and sat up, wriggling away from him in an attempt to make him back off.

“All you have to do is let it go,” He said in a low rasp, “It will be better if you let yourself relax,” His fingers returned to your clit, “And enjoy.”

“Please stop,” You whined, “I can’t.”

“I know you can,” His fingers moved faster and you brought your hand up to stifle the moan. He held back your wrist and you held back the cry in your throat as you orgasmed again, the burning in your eyes threatening to spill over. Why couldn’t you stop? Why couldn’t you lay there and not feel anything?

“No, no, no,” You repeated, weakly trying to get away from him.

He merely sat back on his heels and grabbed your hips, pulling you closer. He lifted your pelvis, bring your legs up to rest along his torso, your feet against his shoulders. He reached down and lined up the head of his cock with your entrance, pushing in slowly, impaling you as his fingers dug into your hips. He breathed out, lingering in you as he moved his pelvis, testing your limits. You squirmed as he hit your cervix painfully. “Well,” His voice was that of wolf baring down its quart, “I’ll just enjoy it for the both of us.” He pulled back and slammed into you. Each thrust that followed was sharp and deliberate, your body jerking against the mattress.

You grasped at the comforter below you, trying to dissociate as he plunged into you, harder and faster. His groans mingled with your pained hisses, barely withheld as you bit down. “I needed this,” He spoke between laboured breaths, “It was a tough--” He rammed into you roughly, “Mission. Ah, shit,” He was panting as he slammed you against him, flesh clapping on flesh, and he quickly withdrew. He stroked his cock over your pelvis, leaning over you so that your legs were bent towards your chest. His cum shot out along your stomach and chest, a series of expletives falling from his lips.  He backed away, letting your legs fall to the bed as he collapsed beside you. “Why don’t you go get us a towel?” It wasn’t a question. You looked over at him, his eyes closed as his chest rose and fell rapidly. You sat up and turned to hang your legs over the edge of the bed.

“Yes, sir,” You said as you rose, the cum dripping down your front.

You went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel from the closet, wiping the mess from your stomach before handing over the linen to Bucky as you neared the bed. He reached over, making no move to sit up, and snatched the towel, wiping tenderly around his crotch. His cock had begun to soften but as you stood beside the bed, it twitched. You looked away, hesitant to get back on the bed. Perhaps he was done.

“Come here, sit with me a moment.” He patted the bed beside him, the towel disposed over the side of the bed.

You recited another ‘yes, sir’ and did as he said. “Catch your breath.” You just sat and waited, your heart refusing to calm. You brought your knees up and hugged them to your chest, the thoughts flurrying despite your efforts to delay them. When he was gone, you could think all you wanted.  But the words tumbled out before you could truly form them in your head. “Why me? Why didn’t you kill me?” You whispered, not sure if you really had asked such a stupid question.

“Because I like the way your ass looks those little wool pants of yours,” He chuckled, “That secretary look really gets me going.” You glared at him in disgust and he laughed even more. “I saw an opportunity and I took it. I guess…” He reached over, drawing a line your calf, “You were in the right place at the right time.” His hand closed around your ankle, “Now, on your stomach.”