The summoning circle burned brightly, the blood sizzling and the flames of the candles grew.
Obadiah grinned, back straightening—finally.
The human watched, gleefully fascinated at the way the demon crawl out of the ground, sharp and black claw-like nails pierced the concrete and chipped away at it as the demon pulled himself up. A long and slim black tail with a spade tip sway wildly in the air; short pointed ears and red horns adorned his head of silk raven hair that fell to his shoulders. He wore nothing but black fitted leather trousers and strange sleeves that were held in place by a belt.
The demon didn’t stand right away, instead, he peered up at Obadiah, curiosity in his steel silver-blue gaze. “So you are the one to summon me? пытливый. ”
Obadiah bit his tongue at the Russian.
The demon stood and he towered over the human, silver-blue eyes looked him over. “Why would a human such as you need to summon someone of my kind?”
Obadiah cleared his throat, desperately trying to ignore the cold sweat and fear that crept up his spine from the glance alone. “I want you to take care of someone for me. Whether that’s killed or whatever you demons do, I just want her dealt with.”
“Oh?” The demon tilted his head. “So it is a woman you wish for me to… deal with?”
“Yes.” Obadiah nodded in a jerky manner—his heart had begun pound. Why he wasn’t sure; he was perfectly safe, the demon couldn’t cross the line without the contract complete. He had nothing to fear and soon little Annie would be gone too. Those idiots he’d paid just couldn’t get it done and now she was back in America.
He wanted that damn company—it should be his! Howard fucked him over by signing Stark Industries over to his bratty child and now she’d shut down the weapons department. It was going to ruin him!
Obadiah reached over to grab the picture of the remaining Stark and chucked it at the demon, who caught it with ease.
The hell creature hummed curious—quite a beauty. The image showed a young woman with short dark brown hair and whisky brown orbs with a tanned complexion. She was smiling in the picture but wasn’t looking at the photographer, the smile revealed dimples on both cheeks. She wore a fitted shirt that cut low but not enough to reveal anything.
“Her name?” The demon asked. “Она будет прекрасной подругой.”
“Antonia Stark.” Obadiah answered, oblivious to what the Russian that the demon spoke meant.
“Antonia Stark.” The demon echoed before grinning. “I accept.”
“I’m glad we could come to an agreement.”
Agreement instead, the demon grinned wider, foolish human.
Bucky—a nickname he’d received during his younger years—wasn’t one to agree to contracts—of course, he has his fair share of summons and while he enjoyed taking some of them, he wasn’t the type of demon to actively engage in them.
(A brief thought of Rebecca and where she might be at the moment came to him but discarded it as a topic to return to at a later and more appropriate date.)
He had lived his life as James Barnes happily until he’d fallen off the train—of course, he could have easily ‘survived’ by not purposefully falling but he’d grown rather bored of the war. It was a shame he had to leave poor Stevie by himself but he was only human after all, a human lived a life nothing like that of a demon.
Better to discard his old life sooner rather than later in his case. He’d easily blended in during his stay in Russia—there was something about the country he enjoyed. He grew a lot in the time away from America—he may or may not have aligned himself with some questionable organisations but what was the fun if he didn’t take risks?
The Red Room had been an experience he’d greatly enjoyed.
He’d abandoned his Brooklyn accent for a Russian one over the time spent out of America—he liked it far better than being that Brooklyn boy he’d played.
But the summon he’d received, wanting him to deal with a woman, hadn’t caught his attention truly until the man had spoken her name.
Despite his note of the woman making a splendid mate, his interested was only pipped when her name had been uttered.
Truthfully, Bucky had never truly liked Howard—he would just call the man Stark, but he wasn’t the only one with that name now—and it seemed like Howard had disliked him as well.
Howard had been oh-so eager to please Stevie, that Bucky was sure the man harboured some feelings that went beyond platonic for the blond. He wouldn’t be too surprised if that was true.
Bucky hadn’t kept up with much, but he was aware of the fact Howard had gone on to create a million-dollar company based mostly in weapons before expanding at a later date.
Hearing about his death had just made him laugh—drink driving? Ha!
He’d heard about his child, but until now, he hadn’t cared for them. But now…
Now he was interested.
He watched from the shadows as Antonia worked on… something. It pipped his curiosity, she was intelligent—a good trait to process, one that would be good to pass onto children, he noted absentmindedly.
He watched as she spoke to her A.I, JARVIS.
He had researched Antonia, she had fascinated him enough to wipe killing her off the list. So he was curious about her life. She had achieved a lot in her twenty-six years already.
He had also learnt that she had just returned to America only a handful of days ago from being held captive for three months by terrorists, of which she escaped from.
He was most interested in the blue glow that escaped her chest. It was encased in metal, from his observations, she wore low cut vests often and it revealed the device. He had listened as she had asked JARVIS to scan it on occasion to just check—a type of reassurance for herself.
She had suffered at the hands of the terrorists—made her all that much stronger.
He licked his lips, watching as she practically danced around the workshop, working on her project. He had been observing her for an entire day, most fascinated by her. She hummed along with the music, bobbed her head to it and wasn’t afraid to her hands dirty while working.
She was acting nothing like the tabloids and articles said about her—a playgirl and whore who cared for only herself.
The nickname that interested him most was the Marchant of Death.
(Oh did that name do things to him.)
It was only once she’d gone to bed, far passed the average time a normal human should, that he stepped out from the shadows, making sure to keep his body shrouded from JARVIS’s sensors—it wouldn’t do to get caught yet.
He reached out, brushing strands of hair away from Antonia’s face and outstretched his magic, allowing it to stroke her psyche and implant a desirable dream.
He watched, grinning as she hummed and nuzzled into her pillow with a sigh. She shuddered softly moments later.
Since Obadiah hadn’t set a timeline, the demon was free to continue watching over Ангел; he did so mirthfully. Bucky watched as Obadiah came to visit his Ангел, the man was obviously trying to hide his annoyance that she had yet to be dealt with.
It took time, he hadn’t gotten her where he wanted her yet—it wouldn’t be long however, she was malleable and receptive to his dreams. When she awoke, she was visibly confusion but it was undeniable that she enjoyed them greatly if her scent was anything to go by—and it was.
He just had to confront her, but he was most interested in what his contractor was doing. So he parted from his mark temporary—as much as he wanted nothing more than to continue to watch the beauty—to observe the man instead.
He wasn’t impressed—it seemed the man was growing impatient by his lack of appearance.
He had made up his mind—instead, tonight he would change his dream up a bit, give his Ангел some subtle hints about the man.
He was most excited to watch the battle between his to-be and his contractor.
Made him want her all that much more.
He struck a day afterwards when he knew she would be most vulnerable and pliable to him. She had returned to the workshop, planning to do some more work on her suit of armour in an attempt to forget everything that had happened.
He stepped out from the shadows, flexing his powers to temporary shut off JARVIS. The A.I was protective and would just get in the way of his plan.
Antonia tightened her grip on her wrench as the lights turned off. “JARVIS?”
Of course the A.I didn’t answer.
He moved forward, making, sure enough, sound to catch her attention.
Antonia spun around and yelped, dropping the wrench. “Holy shit!”
He grinned in amusement.
“What—who—how? How the hell did you—?!”
“Hello.” He greeted.
His Ангел grabbed another wrench from the tabletop—pointing it at him.
She swallowed, eyeing him with wide eyes. “What are you?”
“A demon.” He answered honestly, moving forward. Antonia stepped back, only to hit her worktop.
She scoffed. “Yeah right, and I’m the Tooth Fairy. Get the hell out of my—” She squinted at him.
He grinned, tail swishing side to side excitedly as her eyes widened again. “You—you were in my dreams!”
He chuckled and advanced forward again. “Yes, that was me. Did you like them?”
She swallowed, cheeks burning. “Why the hell—what do you want?”
He caged her against the worktop, his nails digging into the metal. “I was summoned by Obadiah to… deal with you before his death.”
(Of course, now that the man was dead, their contract was technically void, but that didn’t mean anything, especially since he had no plans to kill her, to begin with.)
She licked her lips. “So what? You’re here to kill me? Eat my soul?”
He chuckled. “No—he should have worded his desires better.” He leaned down, feeling the way her breathing hitched and she shifted nervously. “No, instead I’ve decided I wanted to take you for myself.”
His Ангел’s eyes widened and she spluttered. “You—you can’t just—”
“You’ll find my kind tend to take what they want.” He brushed his nose along her cheek and down to her throat where he breathed in her scent. He hummed happily at the subtle arousal that tinted her oil and coffee mixed scent.
“A-and you’ll find people don’t like being referred to as an object, bastard.”
He chuckled, pressing himself against her, enjoying the way she jerked, knees trembling.
“No, you’re not an object, Ангел.” He cooed and brushed his lips along the length of the neck bared to him. He slipped a hand under the back of her shirt, relishing in the way she arched her back in an attempt to move away from his hand but only resulted in her chest meeting his. “When he showed me your picture, I decided I wanted you for myself—only mine to please and pleasure.”
“Yeah? And what if I said no?”
That isn’t going to happen, he mused in amusement—he could smell and feel just what sort of effect he was having on her. “We both know that you are not going to say no, I’ve been in your dreams, remember?”
Antonia made a sound of mortification, her voice shaky as she responded. “I can’t control my body’s response—that doesn’t mean I want it.”
He nipped, revelling in the hitch of breath that caught in her throat. He dragged his nails lightly up her spine until they brushed her bra. He easily unhocked the undergarment.
He pulled back enough to brush her lips with his, taking in the way her pupils were blown wide and her breathing was heavier. The arousal was far more prominent now. Good.
“Well?” He purred. “Where is this no?”
Antonia gasped and keened as he attacked her neck with bites and kisses, his hands busy ripping her shirt from her body. The bra was discarded shortly after, leaving her bare to his eyes.
He wasted not a second with latching onto the right breast. Grinning as Toni arched up into it. She whimpered, her fingers grasping his shoulders and dipping her nails in. He nipped and sucked, all the while dragging his nails up and down her sides, enjoying the squirming she did.
Bucky pulled back just enough, the light of the Arc-Reactor illuminated his face, taking in the sight of his Ангел’s flushed face. She swallowed and blinked sluggishly before meeting his eyes.
Just the look in her eyes was enough prompting for him, leaning up and pressing his lips to hers in a heated kiss; he ran his nails up her sides again and she gasped at the sensation, which he used to explore her mouth, he could taste the faint flavour of the coffee she’d drank minutes before he’d made his appearances.
He reached down to her trousers, unzipping them and pulled back to remove the remaining pieces of clothes she wore.
Antonia breathed heavily, trying to fill her lungs with air after the kiss, as she watched—what was his name? She hadn’t even gotten that but at that moment Antonia didn’t care a single bit, she just knew she needed him inside her—remove the last pieces of clothing and shuddered at the cool air that hit her.
His hands were warm on her thighs as he dragged his hands along her legs before abruptly grabbing them and throwing them over his shoulders. Antonia gave a startled shout, only for that shout to turn into a keen as his mouth descended onto her.
He gripped her hips tightly, holding her in place as he devoured her, teeth nipping, tongue lavishing and working her towards an orgasm in little to no time. She sobbed, back arching as she trembled.
Bucky grinned and continued to lap at her release. He lowered her hips just enough to slip his fingers inside, he spreads them, nudging at her walls gently before bringing his fingers back together, and repeating the motion. He continues, slowing increasing his movements while Antonia shakes, and shakes, and shakes, almost stunned in pleasure.
His thumb rubs firmly over her clit and—she’s gone.
Her first orgasm has barely waned before she’s falling face first into another; body clenching as she screams, orgasm hot and slow through her quivering muscles. Her walls clenching down on his fingers felt like heaven to Antonia, feeling the way he jerked his fingers to string out the orgasm.
“Oh so pretty.” He cooed. “You’re being so good for me, прекрасный."
Antonia shudders at the Russian, it made his accent impossibly thicker.
Bucky grinned, seeing the reactions. “Oh? You like it went I speak Russian, Doll?” He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers as she gasps at the way he presses against her at the position shift. “Тебе нравится слышать, как я говорю по-русски? Тебе нравится не знать, что я говорю о тебе, не так ли? Я буду наполнять тебя милыми и добрыми, оставлю тебя желать большего, пока ты не сможешь снова смотреть на другого мужчину, не думая обо мне. Ты мой. ”
He devoured her with a kiss, rolling his hips against her and hissing happily at the feeling.
Bucky hauled himself off Antonia, grinning at the whine that escaped her at the separation. He made quick work of his sleeves, just unbuckling and slipping them off. He discarded his trousers just as quickly.
His tail swished side to side before wrapping around Antonia’s ankle as he settled between her legs, gripping her thighs to pull her into his lap again and slides into her, deep and devastatingly easy.
Antonia cries out in pleasure of being filled by something hard, thick, long and hot—
She grips at the duvet in an attempt to grasp some sort of level-headedness and to brace herself as he doesn’t linger a moment—he thrusts in and out of her relentlessly.
He pants above her, the sound almost like a growl rumbling deep in his chest. He grips her waist hard enough to bruise, and—
Some part of Antonia doubts he’s using full-strength—something in the way he moves but she can’t place it, her attempts at coherent thoughts are useless.
He hammers into her faster and faster until she can’t even hope to keep any sort of pace, instead, she goes limp—lets him manhandle her.
She likes the way he manhandles her.
She managed to pull her last few threats of coherency together to clench her walls around his cock, squeezing deliciously tight around him.
He hissed, Antonia gets a flash of his teeth and can see sharp canines. He buries his face into her neck, nipping and sucking at her throat as he growls. “Such a tease, aren’t you, Ангел.”
His tail pulls her leg up and she squeals, quivering as the shift allowed him impossibly deeper.
Absently, Antonia noted a voice chanting before she becomes aware that it was her.
“Please, please, please, please!”
He raised his hips just a smidgen as if knowing just want she needed and—she tipped over the edge, entire body locking up and she choked on her scream of pleasure, legs twitching helplessly as he saw her through her third orgasm in search of his own.
Her hands found his back, marking it with her nails and—teeth sunk into her neck in claiming, deep enough to draw blood.
She felt the way his first spurts of come fill her, she feels exquisitely sensitive to every throb of his cock inside as he comes inside her.
She gasps for breath as he releases her neck, immediately lapping at the blood as he rolls his hips against her. He moans against she can’t make out against her skin before he returns to lapping at her neck. “Mine.”
Antonia moans, part pain and part pleasure as he moved, sitting back. She blinked up at him blearily. He grinned, humming happily at the fucked-out look his Ангел wore.
He manoeuvred her gently and dropped down behind her and settled there, arms wrapping around her waist as he wrapped his tail around her leg again. “So good for me, Ангел.”
She shuffled slightly before curled into his warmth happily enough. He nuzzled her neck and his mark—she didn’t understand what it meant yet, but she would when they’d wake up.
She was his.