Wrath [raTH]

(n.) extreme anger
Synonym: Rage

Kink: BDSM - Domination

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POV Bucky in 2016 at Steve's new NYC apartment

I sit alone on the couch, simply reading my book, when the front door opens. I dog-ear the page and look up through the darkness to see Steve walking in, still wearing his super-suit.

"How was it?" I ask, putting the book down and walking over to him. I'd been waiting all day today and yesterday for him to return from the mission he was on, the one he couldn't tell me anything about until after it had been completed because I was technically still a HYDRA deserter or something.

I suppose that's true, I am still on the run from them, hence the new apartment and the fact that I'm confined to these walls most hours of most days. But at least now I'm more free than I ever was before, and Steve helped me find that.

"It went well, it was a success when everything was said and done," he replies still facing away from me, working to tug off his shoes at the door.

I approach him and wait as he places the second one down on the shoe mat, but upon finishing he doesn't turn to face me.

"Steve?" I inquire, putting my hand on his shoulder. His fingers met mine there.

"Don't be mad," he prefaces, his head hanging low as he turns it slightly to the side. I can't see his features though, shadow shrouds them too heavily.

"Tell me what happened and we'll see about that," I tell him honestly, uncertainty lilting through my voice and producing an almost playful tone. "No promises."

He turns to look at me and that's when I notice. His face is severely scratched and marred with blackened bruises, his nose is crusted and thick with dark red blood, his nether lip is split and protruding, his neck is burned red and glistening in a still raw state, his super-suit is torn and bloodied and I could see sliced skin beneath what material remained. The worst of it was that he was clearly healing very slowly.

"I..." he pauses. "A lot happened."

I felt something in my brain shift. "What exactly do you... what could possibly lead to a super soldier like you being so beaten up like this? Why aren't you healing faster?" I felt fear pang through my chest.

"I had to make a lot of quick choices; some of them weren't the best, but I couldn't risk my life or Natasha's," he details.

"You didn't tell me she was joining you," is my immediate reaction, my eyebrows knitting together. "But, aside from that for now, when was all this, yesterday? It looks... fresh."

"It was today," his hand reaches for my face, but I step away from his touch.

"You're going to get yourself killed, Steve," I say. It wasn't until I heard my voice reverberate off the walls that I realized I'd been yelling. "Damn it," I run my hands through my hair and exhale, mumbling to myself.

I need to calm down, but after everything HYDRA did to me, stepping away from my rage in times like these remains far from easy. It's like something about the remnants of their mind control left me easily angered and hard to soothe.

"Bucky, no, you know me," I hear him try to explain. The words are there, but they're not registering, it's like he's miles away.

I look back at him and quickly approach, slamming his back into the door from which he'd just entered. He huffs out air, wincing beneath my weight as I press into his chest.

His eyes are squeezed shut in pain, so I take my time looking over his tortured skin. He has a certain pallor about him that normally would have worried me, but right now, I only felt how angry it made me.

My tongue licks up his chin to the corner of his lip, wiping away any blood that had been dripping there a second earlier. I lean close to him and bite down on his earlobe so hard that I feel him shudder when I break the skin. "Do you have a death wish, Steve?"

"Depends on if it's the kind of death only you could offer me," his voice drips down my spine like honey.

"Tell me to stop," I plead.

He shakes his head. "I couldn't bear it; don't stop."

I slam my fist into the door next to his head, denting it as I hang my head low. "Damn it, Steve!" I shout. "You never listen to me. What is it going to take?"

"When it comes to helping out my team and doing the right thing, you know I'm unwavering, Buck," he replies, reaching out to touch me again.

I push his hand away, gritting my teeth and yanking off my shirt. It was growing overheated. I look back at him, and he's looking at me everywhere but my eyes, undressing the rest of me with his gaze.

I pounce at him, enjoying watching his lip quiver when I jump back in his face. My hands meet his chest as I shove him back, the door quaking as his back slams into it. His face contorts as he pushes me back, stepping away from the doorway.

I scowl, shoving him harder back to where he'd just been and following him this time, grabbing his throat with my flesh hand and squeezing just slightly as his head hits the door behind him.

As he reaches up, presumably to stop me, I move my hands to meet the front of his tattered suit just for a second before I tear what remains of the fabric in half. "Take that thing off," I demand, stepping back. He peels it off his body and drops it in a bundle on the floor. "Those too," I look at his underwear and motion with my chin at them when I speak.

He does as he's told, and I watch him growing hard in front of my very eyes. "And, now?" He asks innocently, clearly not sure where this is going.

"On your goddamn knees," I order.

He drops, wincing as the bruises on his legs push into the ground. I undo my belt and zipper, pull my underwear down, and watch as he leans closer. His fingers linger on my lower abdomen just before he takes me into his mouth.

I grit my teeth as I let my eyes close. My head falls back as his hands push my pants lower down and linger on my thighs. It feels good, but I need more.

I grab his hair and pull his lips to the base of my dick, eliciting a muffled choke from him as I moan quietly. I hold him in place as I move my hips, pushing deep down his throat as his fingers dig into my hips and abdomen in resistance.

He sucks harder, telling me at least some part of him was enjoying this. I look down at him to see his wet eyes squeeze shut and his face red from the strain of the motion.

In a spur-of-the-moment decision, I pull him off of me, my dick drawing out of his mouth, still wet and glistening. He sniffles, looking at it as he wipes his eyes before looking up at me.

"On your feet," I tell him, shedding the rest of my clothing and leaving them there in a pile with his destroyed super-suit.

He stands up, keeping his eyes on me the whole while. I can't decipher the look on his face just yet, but it almost seems anticipatory of my next movement or edict. My body hums with fury, and the cool air on every inch of me isn't even helping. I need him to feel the pain I felt when he told me he made a sacrificial move on his last mission, the jealousy that killed me when he mentioned Nat having been there only after the fact, the wrath that courses through me now remembering all of it again.

"Damn it, Steve, say something!" I yell, walking away into our bedroom, needing space for a moment to think. I look at myself in the mirror to find my face reddened, but I'm unsure if it's from the anger or from his lips being wrapped around my dick.

"What do you want me to say?" He's standing in the doorway to our room, his voice sounding defeated. The golden light shining behind him makes him look like an angel, but that only makes me want to drag him down to hell even more. "I already told you I'm sorry, I-"

"You shouldn't do shit like that," I look away, hearing my voice start to shred as my throat grows thick with sorrow. "Christ," I look at him a second before I walk over and grab his wrists, pushing his body into the dresser in one fluid motion.

I grab his face and kiss him harshly, thankful when he kisses me back. I hum into his mouth but feel the threat of tears looming with a sting in my eyes, so I stave them away by biting his lip hard in the very place where I recall having seen it be cut open.

I slap his ass before grabbing it tight between my fingers; he sucks in air quickly and squirms beneath me as I bite harder before pulling back. His eyes are glassy, so I turn him around to face the mirror, pushing his dick against the dresser and mine against his back.

I spit into my hand and coat myself in it, then shove myself into him without further warning. He braces himself on the wooden piece before him, and I watch his reaction in the mirror's reflection.

I rock my hips, moving in and out unforgivingly as he writhes in pain for a moment. I can feel him loosen around me, and I sense the moment when the pain morphs into pleasure. He groans, and I feel his legs quiver beneath him, forcing me to help hold him up.

I thrust harder, shaking the mirror on the wall above the dresser as I do so, watching him leave dents in the wood under his grip.

Suddenly I pull out and he spins to look at me defiantly. "I should leave you like that," I say, looking down at how hard he is, at how much he's leaking.

He shakes his head. "Please," he begs, taking himself into his hand and slowly pumping himself while watching my eyes as if he's asking for permission.

I laugh. "And I should listen to what you want? After you don't listen to what I want?" I question, grabbing his balls in my hand and massaging them just to watch him squirm. "Don't fucking touch yourself," I demand,

His eyelids flutter as his hand falls away, and his hips jerk forward to meet my palm as his fingers brace backward on the dresser yet again. "Bucky," he whispers helplessly. "I can't... I-"

"You should listen to me, damn it," I let go and get in his face. "You're mine, you hear me? You don't get to have a hero complex. You don't get to make self-sacrificial decisions," I spit out, grabbing his jaw. "Leaving me without you is not a fucking option, Steve," I step away from him again.

"Buck, I'm s-"

"Get on the bed," I talk over him. I can't hear an apology right now, it'll break me.

He does as I told him, and I notice an angry, red handprint on his ass as he does so. I climb on top of him and kiss him once more, shoving my tongue into his mouth and sucking on the cut until I taste blood.

I grab his waist and flip him over, pushing myself into him to the hilt in one swift motion. A guttural moan escapes him as his fingers search for something to grab onto, in this case, the sheets were the closest option.

I waste no time increasing my speed, thrusting harder and harder until I hear the bedframe creaking and the headboard hitting the wall. "Fuck," I groan, pulling back from my chest being on his back, and landing on my knees.

He pushes his ass up to meet me, and I arch his back down with my palm. I grab the back of his neck in my metal fist and dig my fingers into the bruised, sensitive skin, gripping his hip with my other hand. Then, I let loose.

"Bucky, fuck," he moans. "Fuck, I- I'm gonna-"

"Don't you fucking dare," I grit out, moaning after I get the words out.

"Fuck," he replies, his hands grabbing the sheets as I keep going, unrelenting. "I don't think I can stop it Bucky, oh my god."

I chuckle. "I must feel good then," I hear myself say, slapping his ass in the same place as I had before. He winces, and I stop moving my hips altogether; instead, I grab his balls, massage his thighs, and slap his ass again and again.

He moans, his eyes squeezed shut. "You feel so fucking good, please don't stop," he says. "Please."

"Please?" I thrust in and out once and he whimpers, I can even feel him tighten around my dick. "Don't stop what, Stevie?"

"Bucky, I-" he starts thrusting himself, moving along my dick because of my lack of motion. I feel him shaking and hear him humming to himself, using me like an object instead of the other way around.

I grab his body firmly, not letting him move anymore. "Tell me what you want, Steve," I whisper, barely audible to even myself, anger seething between my teeth.

"Fuck me," he relents.

"Beg."

There's a pause where he doesn't say anything, and I debate pulling out and finishing myself off in the shower, making him watch, not letting him touch himself the rest of today or even tomorrow.

"Please fuck me," he finally mumbles. "Let me come, I can't take it anymore," he moans quietly. "It hurts, I need it. Please Bucky; I won't be stupid anymore, I... I promise, just please."

I smile to myself and thrust into him again and again. He feels so good, and I can't stop myself from groaning loudly into the air between us.

I finish, halting as I fill him up, feeling the moment when he registers that I'm coming inside him. "Bucky...?"

"Go ahead," I lean toward his ear, kissing his neck and biting his earlobe. "Come for me," I permit, thrusting slowly as I come down from my orgasm, out of breath. He grabs himself and finishes within seconds, moaning my name and thrusting into his fist. It makes me want to fuck him again, my dick already growing hard inside him anew.

I pull out before he realizes and let him get up. He looks down at the mess on the sheets, then at my strained dick, glistening still with the fluid that would soon be dripping down his leg. I bite my lip to stave away the smile that was growing at that thought.

"Bucky," he starts. "I-"

"Apologize later," I tell him with a smile, showing him that it's going to be okay between us. "I need to fuck you again before I'm willing to listen."