#Greg Winters | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

voiceoffenrisulfr · 21 days

Text

Bind

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Male Character (Yes, Greg's back)

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> Sheriff Barnes has heard about some unsavoury activity going down at a local saloon, and he goes to shut it down. But sometimes these things don't go quite to plan. Especially when smooth-talking boys get their way.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 3408

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (E) Prejudices of sex work, smut, punishment turns into sex, BDSM including restraint and impact play, loss of virginity, inexperienced sex with a very experienced lover, loss of virginity. Kind of dub-con vibes? But not? The consent is very enthusiastic.

𝐀/𝐍 -> Largely written for the Build-a-Bucky bingo, hosted by @buckybarnesevents! This was fun to write, and was... A bit different. I don't usually go so far into sadism, but it was interesting!

Prompts fulfilled: - ’AU: Wild West’, ‘Pet Names’, ‘Sleepy Sex’ – Build-a-Bucky Bingo (April), @buckybarnesevents - ‘Bind’ – Dick-or-Treat, - ‘Caning’ – @fandom-free-bingo (Frosty Edition), - “You Loved It.” and ‘Bondage’ – Fandom-Free Bingo (Flight Edition), - “It ain’t gonna suck itself.” – @anyfandomkink Bingo, - ‘Sex is Evil, and I Am Horny’ – @multifandom-flash – Taboo – 6047 - ‘Rough Sex’ – Multifandom Flash – New Year NSFW - ‘Too Kinky to Torture’ – Multifandom Flash – Halloween – 5037 - ‘Hickies’ – @sebastianstanbingo, - ‘Nice Ass’ – Sweetheart Bingo @sweetspicybingo.

Read it below or on AO3 here. Adorable divider by @jiyascepter! Cards at the end <3

Sheriff Barnes shouldered his way through the saloon doors, pale eyes casting around the space as silence descended quickly.

“You know why I’m here,” he noted, low voice carrying in the hushed room. “I’d gotten rid of their kind once already – and you, you bunch of heathens… You brought them back, didn’t you?”

Gazes lowered guiltily, avoiding the man striding slowly into the centre of the room. He cut an intimidating figure, despite the left arm absent from the shoulder down – his hand rested on the gun slung at his waist, and the scent of gunpowder and horse sweat hung around him like an aura.

Women swooned as he passed, but he paid them no mind – his attention was singularly focused on the bedraggled man behind the bar, rubbing nervously at the glass in his grasp with a dingy cloth. “Where is he?”

A trembling thumb jerked at the stairs behind him, throat bobbing nervously, and the Sherriff nodded curtly, rounding the weathered wood in silence.

The stairs creaked under the leather of his boots, footfalls steady and unfaltering. The hall at the top was dim and dank, punctuated by the sound of skin on skin and soft, rapturous gasps.

“Yes – just like that, oh my…”

Barnes curled his lip, drawing the pistol from its holster, the grip resting between index finger and thumb as he reached for the doorknob.

The odour of sex and debauchery in the room was almost overpowering, and the Sherriff raised his hand to his face automatically as he took in the scene before him.

The sight of a muscular backside tensing as it thrusted roughly made the Sherriff’s mouth run dry, jaw clenching. “Enough,” he growled, taking another step further into the room, gun half-raising in preparation.

“Can you come back in five minutes? We’re almost done here,” came a glib reply, the hint of an accent curling around the words, punctuated only subtly by the sharp breaths of its owner’s exertion, though the flexing buttocks remained unfaltering as he addressed the intruder. Barnes hissed distastefully, moving closer to grab the man by his shoulder and jerk him backwards.

The woman on all fours before him cut off her cacophonous cries of pleasure, scrabbling away to cover herself with the threadbare sheets. “Oi! Do you mind? I paid for an hour!”

The Sheriff turned his icy gaze to her, glaring hatefully, and realisation paled her features, sending her scrambling to her feet, scooping up her clothes as she fled the room.

The man simply settled back, reclining onto his hands with a frown, seemingly unabashed by his nudity – or the erection still resting against his abdomen, twitching subtly. “If you’re going to scare off my clientele, I hope you’re intending to step in a s substitute.”

Barnes curled his lip, diverting his gaze. “Get dressed. You’re coming back to the station. Maybe a few nights in a cell will cure you of this… Perversion.”

The man simply laughed in response, raising an eyebrow. “Can I at least deal with this myself first, if you’re not going to lend me a hand?” His fingers wrapped languidly around his length, a soft sigh falling between parted lips as the Sheriff narrowed his eyes.

“Stop that.”

“You seem awful- mm… A-Awful repressed, Sheriff… Maybe we could help each other out…” The man’s lids fluttered as he caressed himself more firmly, while Barnes’ fingers tightened around his gun, only the whitening of his knuckles betraying his unease.

“You have nothing I want,” he snapped, earning another laugh from the man on the bed.

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” He released himself with a gentle sigh, moving carefully to the end of the bed, his movements fluid and cautious, seemingly reluctant to scare away the prone lawman. “Have you ever been with a man, Sheriff? Ever been with someone who knows what men like?”

“I- No. I have- I had a betrothed. Not that it’s any business of yours,” he added scathingly, but his glare was less venomous, softening to something curious as he watched the man before him slide to his knees, gazing up at him with wide brown eyes.

“I bet the infamous Sheriff Barnes has never felt what it’s like to have his cock buried between a pair of pretty lips… It’s so warm and soft, Sir… Feels so good…” He’d gotten close to the Sheriff without the other man realising, licking his lips slowly. “I want to make you feel good… You work so hard for the community… You deserve a reward, don’t you?”

Barnes nodded weakly, enchanted, for just a moment, in spite of himself, as the man on his knees reached for his belt. Sense came at the feeling of his holster’s weight leaving his hips, and he snapped from his reverie with a growl, hand clenching in the other man’s hair to toss him to the floor. “Don’t you dare to touch me, whore,” he spat, standing stiffly over the sprawled, nude figure. “I’m not some common tart you can bewitch.”

“My name is Greg,” the man huffed, shifting upright, “and you can manhandle me all you like, Snowflake. I like it rough.”

The Sheriff’s jaw set, a gleam of something unknowable passing over his pale eyes, insulted by the play on his alias. He was known only as ‘Winter’ now – a pseudonym born in pain and blood through years of suffering, given to him to represent the coldness of his soul. Who was this boy to tease him? “Is that so?” he clarified softly, earning a stubborn nod from the man – Greg, it seemed. “Then perhaps I’ll opt for a more corporal form of punishment. Let’s see if I can’t made someone even as deviant as you scream.”

Greg’s eyes widened minutely, a flicker of uncertainty visible for just a heartbeat, but it passed quickly, replaced with the same cocky smirk. “Bring it on, Sheriff.”

Winter answered with a snarl and leant down, grasping the sprawled man by the throat and lifting him easily, tossing Greg carelessly onto the bed, his bare back exposed and shimmering with a thin sheen of sweat. He had the good sense not to move as Barnes slowly rounded the room, the only motion coming from his gaze as he tracked the Sheriff, an edge of wariness in his eyes despite the excitement evident in the flush of his skin and the subtle trembling of his muscles. Winter hummed under his breath, standing directly in the other man’s eyeline as he unbuckled his belt. “You’re a whore.”

“And proud,” Greg replied evenly, unfaltering expression making Barnes’ lip curl.

“You disgust me,” the Sheriff sneered, the leather strap passing from his hips with a snap.

“Yet you seem awful eager to get your pants off,” Greg smirked. “Maybe you’re not quite as pure as y-”

The man interrupted himself with a grunt as the Sheriff’s buckle met his back, slicing readily into the skin. But he barely blinked, gaze steady on the man standing over him. “Are you finished?” Winter asked softly, the belt curled loosely in his hand. Greg simply smiled, seemingly unphased, and the Sheriff laughed – a low, dirty sound – and shook his head. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Been a while since anyone took a belt to me,” the sex worker replied with a shrug, stretching out his arms above his head, sighing luxuriously. “I’ve missed it.”

Winter weighed the buckle in his hand once more, humming thoughtfully, his eyes casting around the room for inspiration. It wasn’t until his gaze landed on the poker by the fireplace that it lit up, and he dropped the belt, leaving the leather forgotten where it lay as he armed himself with his new tool. “Perhaps this will bring a little more pain to your pleasure...” he murmured, fingers curling almost lovingly around the iron. Greg simply watched without reaction, save the subtle bob of his throat when the Sheriff drew back his arm.

The blow was enough to bruise almost immediately on impact, and the man yelped, fingers curling in the sheets. But Winter only smiled, laying strike after strike, until the smooth skin was a patchy network of black and blue, warm under the Sheriff’s touch as he trailed a palm over the beaten flesh.

Not once had Greg begged for mercy, his only sounds the occasional grunt or cry of pain, his muscles beginning to tremble at the effort of keeping himself upright. But the Sheriff’s hand on him brought out a soft sniff, and he raised his face from the sheets, splotchy and damp from tears, but his eyes no less determined and stubborn. “Why?” the Sheriff asked softly, head cocked, genuine curiosity colouring his features.

“It brings me joy,” Greg replied weakly, his voice cracking from the force of his muffled exclamations. “It brings joy to others. I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

“It's hedonism,” Winter quipped, jaw setting once more. “You’re risking your immortal soul for-”

“I’m risking a vague, unproven concept of eternal bliss for guaranteed happiness and pleasure. And if there is a judge of our actions, how can spreading happiness go against me?” Greg asked softly, his interruption overlooked as the Sheriff contemplated his words.

Winter’s eyes held the other man’s steadily, fingertips dancing lightly over the bruised skin once more. “And this?” he clarified, sparing a glance at the marks he’d made. “How does this bring anyone joy?”

Greg’s mouth moved silently for a moment, and then he frowned. “I... Don’t know, exactly. All I know is that offering myself up to be beaten and bruised and fucked without mercy is one of my favourite things in the world. It’s all so... Feral. Pulsing with desire and hunger and need. You feel it too, don’t you?” he added, head cocked slightly as he considered the man before him – a man he was, after all, despite all pretences otherwise. “When you were hitting me, I could feel you getting into it. I know what that’s like.” He licked his lips uncertainly as he slid his torso from the bed, settling on his knees with a subtle wince as he turned to face the man standing over him. “Your heart racing... Blood pumping... Every thought on the now, on the bruises and the adrenaline and the next lash, the next fix...” He looked up at the Sheriff through his lashes, demure and obedient. “The feeling of ownership and control – ‘here is this pretty creature who will do anything I tell him to, even if he can’t walk at the end of it’. It’s more intoxicating than any liquor that has ever passed my lips. And the feeling of being owned, of surrendering that control... That’s equally so.”

Winter considered him for a moment longer, head tipped to one side. The boy did look beautiful like this – his cheeks flushed, unable to settle comfortably with his ass on his heels, eyes wide and cock still straining. His fingers were tender as he lifted the Greg’s chin, pale gaze searching the mahogany depths imploringly. “... Prove it.”

“I-I’m sorry?” Greg stammered, blinking in surprise. He knew he’d had an impact on the Sheriff, but the words were still unexpected.

“Prove it,” Winter repeated, his voice dropping to a low growl. “Prove to me just how joyful this can be, and I won’t arrest you.” Greg arched an eyebrow, and the fingers on his chin tightened at his insolence. “Well?”

“I’d love to,” the man breathed, eyes wide with excitement. “I’d be honoured to be used by you, Sir.”

The Sheriff let out a soft, breathy groan, shifting his fingers to Greg’s hair. “Show me how you put that smart mouth to work, boy. Let’s see if your tongue is as quick when you’ve got a mouthful.”

The whimper of pleasure that escaped the kneeling man was almost inaudible, but the way his cock twitched with need didn’t go unnoticed, earning a smirk from Winter as Greg fumbled with his buttons eagerly, jerking down the Sheriff’s trousers to whine at the sight of the half-hard cock only a thin layer of cotton from his touch. His fingers ghosted over the bulge, earning a sharp intake of air from the man stood over him, and he shuffled closer as he slid down the fabric.

The Sheriff’s cock twitched steadily as it filled, encouraged by the presence of the man kneeling so eagerly at his feet, but it was already a significant size, eliciting a whine from Greg. “Sir... Such a treat...”

“Enough talking,” Winter snapped, tugging him closer by his hair with a growl. “It ain’t gonna to suck itself.”

The submissive man nodded eagerly, licking his lips before taking the tip in his mouth slowly. Winter’s head fell back, eyes closing as he let out a rapturous groan. The sound only increased as Greg’s head shifted nearer, his length sliding along the sex worker’s tongue slowly, hands finding his hips to anchor him close.

Greg rumbled appreciatively around the Sheriff’s cock, his own eyes shut in pleasure, moving patiently and expertly as the length between his lips thickened and hardened further. Winter, in his inexperience, began to pant and tremble quickly, hips jerking without rhythm, and the sex worker knew the signs well enough to take him deeper, swallowing around the Sheriff’s length to allow it to slip into his throat.

The motion was enough to drive the Sheriff over the edge, pressing himself deeper, back arched as the soft, snug heat of Greg's throat encased his cock irresistibly. His groan was deafening and broken as he spilled his seed inside his willing pet, nails digging into dark hair and pricking the skin beneath.

Greg gasped for breath when Winter eventually drew back, both men shaking with the effort and pleasure of the moment. The Sheriff’s fingers loosened haltingly, cramped and aching from his fierce grip, and he smoothed the tufts of hair he left sticking upright. “Th-that was, uh.... G-good. That was good,” Winter breathed, his voice cracking from the comedown, and the man beneath him purred happily.

“I’m glad, Sir...” Greg murmured back, running his tongue over his lower lip slowly. “Anything else I can do to service you?”

Winter let out a quiet whine before clearing his throat hard, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat at those pretty brown eyes, blown wide with lust, gazing up at him adoringly. “On the bed.”

Greg obeyed immediately, scrambling into position, fingers twitching to caress his aching cock – but the submissive was too well-trained for such behaviours. Despite this, Winter’s eyes narrowed at the wandering hands, and he reached for his belt where it had fallen, moving towards the man sprawled and offering himself willingly. He passed the belt around his wrists and through itself, looping through the flimsy bed frame and back through the buckle to hold his prey fast.

Greg simply whined and squirmed, until a firm hand on his throat pinned him. “Roll,” the Sheriff breathed, ghosting his lips lightly over the other man’s before releasing him. Winter smirked as his pet offered his ass willingly, marvelling at the array of colours marring his skin. “Nice ass,” he purred, earning a delighted wriggle. His fingertips grazed over the plethora of shades, eliciting a gasp and groan when he squeezed the proffered flesh firmly. “You do this a lot... I’m assuming I don’t need to take it slowly with you...”

Greg shook his head fiercely, fingers curling in his bonds. “No, Sir. I can handle it.” Winter murmured his praise as he fisted his cock, eyes on the bruises he’d caused, already half-hard once more at how freely this man offered his body for destruction and free use. It took only a few strokes for him to become impatient, hungry for his pet – who was squirming desperately, his breath coming almost in pants as he whined quietly. “Please, Sir... Please...”

Winter swallowed as he positioned himself behind his plaything, lining his head with Greg's opening and pushing in slowly – not for the benefit of his pet, but to revel in the moment, eyes fluttering as the tight ass stretched around his length, drawing out a groan of pure pleasure from the shuddering submissive and enraptured Sheriff both.

“So fucking tight for such a slut,” Winter hissed as he buried himself to the hilt, leaning forward to apply his own bites to the bruise-peppered neck of his pet, a hand between the shoulder blades keeping the squirming man still as he shifted patiently. “I can see the appeal...”

“Please- fuck...” Greg whimpered, wriggling as best he could, and the Sheriff snorted.

“Had enough already?”

“No! God, no, please- please, just fuck me-” He cut himself off with a moan of relief as Winter’s hips met his harder, fingernails digging into the skin as he set up a steady rhythm against the submissive’s bruised flesh.

“So eager, even when you’re so broken...” The Sheriff leant in again, this time to trail his tongue along Greg’s sweat-damp jaw. “You’re delicious.”

“Please, Sir- I can-can’t take it, please- Just touch me, please... O-or let me touch myself... It’s too good, and I’m so cl-” Another cry spilled from his lips as the Sheriff increased his pace, slamming into his beaten ass with reckless abandon as his fingers shifted to undo the belt holding his pet still, before wrapping around his throat and pulling him back against his chest.

“Show me how much you love this,” he purred, his pace unfaltering as his submissive stammered his gratitude, fingers wrapping quickly around his leaking cock to stroke himself with deft expertise. “That’s it, boy. Mewl for me like a good whore, and I’ll give you what y-you want...”

The Sheriff cursed himself for his stammer, borne of the pleasure of Greg’s tight body wreathe around him like a vice, the submissive’s utter surrender to his command intoxicating.

But the stumble was quickly forgotten as Greg arched against him, muscles quivering around the Sheriff’s cock as his pet rutted frantically, his own essence spilling over the sheets as he sobbed his pleasure. The combination of the sex worker’s joy and enjoyment at turning himself over fully, the sense of control and power he had been offered, and the physical sensations of his lover spasming in his grasp sent the Sheriff descending freely into his own climax, burying his sob of pleasure in a neck proffered for sacrifice.

The boys fell asleep in a mess of tangled sheets and slick skin, pressed together with barely any space between their bodies.

When the Sheriff awoke, it was to a sharp stab of anxiety – but Greg’s tender touches quickly eased any worry from his mind, replaced with soft sighs and a sleepy haze of pleasure. When Winter took him again, it was an act of gentleness and reciprocity, their bodies rocking together, the more experienced man guiding the other’s clumsy hand around his cock, showing him how to caress someone else, his careful tutelage rapturously absorbed and enacted without hesitation.

When they eventually peeled themselves apart, Greg stood with a grunt, arms arching over his head, his multicoloured backside on full display and earning a wince from the man still sprawled on the bed. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, and his lover glanced at him for a moment, brow furrowed before he chuckled with realisation, trailing a palm over his bruised skin.

“This? Sweet boy, this is nothing. I’ve had worse without complaint. I had so much fun,” he assured the Sheriff with a grin, eliciting an uncertain smile in response.

“Perhaps I’ll have to try it from your perspective next time,” he replied hesitantly, licking his lips with nerves. Greg paused, shirt halfway down his torso, and leaned forward to brush his lips over Winter’s.

“I think you’d have fun letting go of that control sometime, Snowflake…” He smiled, trailing a tender fingertip over the Sheriff’s jaw. “And it’s nice to know you want there to be a next time. … You loved it, didn’t you?”

Winter hesitated for a moment, his gaze still betraying his uncertainty, before the darkness cleared and he nodded firmly. “I did. And yes- I’d really, really like there to be a next time.”

Greg smiled, straightening and stretching again. “So… I guess I’m not arrested?”

Sheriff Barnes snorted, pushing a hand through his hair and leaning back against the sheets. “No, Greg. You’re not arrested.”

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