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Smells Like Kink Spirit

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One of the best parts of living in the tower, at least in Darcy's opinion, is the free love. And she means that in the most literal sense, because everyone is fucking everyone. And she means everyone. To name a few, she’s seen Tony and Steve in one of his labs, Natasha and Thor in the gym, and Clint and Bucky, um, everywhere really.

Darcy usually doesn't mind at all when Jane and Thor fuck on every surface in their apartment, especially when they let her watch. She really doesn't mind when they invite her to join, but tonight they're doing super romantic sex, and no thanks. She leaves them to it, leaving their apartment and walking down the hall to the shared common space.

She's texting as she walks in, so she doesn't notice Bucky and Clint in the corner of the sectional. Clint’s naked, which isn't a surprise (he thinks clothes are annoying when they're in areas restricted to Avengers and trusted adjacents). He's sitting lazily on Bucky's lap, legs spread wide by Bucky’s knees, and when she looks closer, she can see that Bucky's jeans are open, his cock nestled inside Clint.

They're not actually moving, instead just watching whatever junk movie one of them threw on, Clint’s cock only half-hard. Bucky raises an eyebrow, smirk tugging at his lips when he sees her looking. She's far beyond blushing now and just licks her lips and winks.

"Enjoying yourselves?" she asks, leaning against the wall next to the sectional.

"Yep," Bucky says, shifting a bit, making Clint whimper lightly, though he doesn't move. "You're welcome to stay. The movie's just started."

Darcy lets her eyes linger on where Bucky’s hand is running up and down Clint’s side, the other on his thigh, before saying, "Sounds good to me."

She takes a seat near them, though just barely in touching range. Bucky shifts again to grab the remote and turn the volume up a bit, and she shamelessly stares at where Clint’s stretched wide, keeping Bucky’s thick cock warm.

Bucky, tease that he is, keeps letting Clint get more and more relaxed, until Clint’s cock nearly softens completely against his thigh. Then Bucky will roll his hips just once or twice, or wrap his arm around Clint’s waist and haul him closer, shifting him on his cock, or whisper something in his ear that has his breathing get quicker, and watch as Clint’s cock jerks between his thighs, hardening again.

Darcy would say it's cruel if she didn't know how much Clint loves it. She's seen them do this before, seen when Clint breaks and starts begging, or when Bucky loses his patience and fucks Clint until he's screaming.

She also knows they like giving a show, so she doesn't refrain at all from watching and making it obvious that she enjoys it. Bucky notices the first time she squeezes her thighs together and presses down on her seat, humming at the pleasant tingle between her legs.

Clint, too busy gasping at Bucky's movements to see the first time, notices when she casually pushes her hair over her shoulder, deliberately dragging her fingers over her nipple as she does, not bothering to hide her satisfaction.

Bucky eventually gets tired of teasing and tightens his hands on Clint’s waist. He slowly rolls his hips, only this time he doesn't stop at once or twice. Clint groans, head falling back onto Bucky's shoulder. He reaches up, tangling his hand in Bucky’s hair, the nails of his other hand digging into his own thigh as he strains not to touch himself.

Bucky's lips are on Clint’s throat, alternating between murmuring words Darcy can't hear and pressing biting kisses into his skin. Bucky makes eye contact with her and grins, saying something to Clint. Clint’s eyes land on her too, watching how she's squeezing her thighs together and biting her lip. Then Bucky gives a particularly hard thrust and Clint’s eyes slip closed again.

Darcy uncrosses her legs, slipping her hand into the waistband of sleep pants. Bucky's eyes on her are heated, watching as she squeezes her breast through her thin shirt, and, well, she's never exactly been shy.

Darcy shoves her shirt up, baring her breasts, something she knows both of them will appreciate. She's rewarded with a groan from Bucky and a hiss from Clint as he rolls his hips into Bucky's shallow, teasing thrusts.

She lies back along the couch, propped up against the armrest, and slides her sleep pants down, kicking them off and leaving her in just her panties. She's a voyeur, already wet and swollen from watching them, but she's also an exhibitionist, and the way they're watching her is making her cunt pulse.

Darcy dips her hand inside her panties, rubbing a finger up and down her wet slit as she watches them. Bucky's fucking Clint deeper now, though still not as deep and hard as he'd like. Darcy's not as much of a tease as Bucky, especially not with herself, and starts to circle her hard little clit with slick fingers.

Clint’s watching her avidly, and she knows that in any other case he'd have his face buried between her thighs by now, but being fucked by Bucky tends to trump everything else for him.

"Let me see," he growls, voice much deeper than usual.

Darcy doesn’t make him wait, kicking her panties all the way off and spreading her thighs wide. Bucky lets out a rough noise from deep in his chest, fucking up into Clint harder. Clint’s eyes flutter closed briefly, before he opens them again, staring at the two fingers she’s slipping inside herself.

She doesn’t have Bucky’s restraint by any means, so she’s not even close to being able to tease herself any longer. She pumps her middle and pointer fingers in and out, her thumb fluttering against the side of her clit. Bucky doesn’t have much of his restraint left either, fucking harder up into Clint. Clint’s eyes are slits as he watches her, bouncing on Bucky’s thick cock. He finally gives in and strokes his own cock, trembling in Bucky’s lap.

There’s been a low level of arousal simmering in her since she’d left the apartment, the image of Thor’s face buried between Jane’s thighs in her mind, and Bucky and Clint had fanned that flame even higher. She’s swollen and sensitive, wetness smeared over her inner thighs, and every touch is ratcheting the tension inside her higher and higher.

Her gasps mix with Bucky's low grunts and Clint’s whimpers and hisses, and it pushes her closer and closer to the edge. The pleasure builds until she’s coming with a ragged gasp, cunt spasming around her fingers, her other hand tight on her breast. She hears Bucky curse and opens her eyes (she doesn’t remember closing them) to see Clint come, Bucky fucking harder into him until he comes with a deep moan, his teeth set into the meat of Clint’s shoulder.

Darcy’s legs go limp as she catches her breath, in no hurry to cover herself. She does feel a surge of sympathy for the cleaning cleaning crew who will have to deal with the definite wet spot under her. She lazily watches as Clint clings to the arm Bucky has wrapped around his waist, head flopping back onto his shoulder.

“You always have great timing, doll,” Bucky says, chin hooked over Clint’s shoulder.

“I don’t know if I have good timing or if you and Clint are just horny little fuckers that don’t care where you are when you start boning,” she says.

Bucky just grins.

Chapter Text

It was a dumb accident. A stupid Doombot malfunctioned and ended up pulling its own head off and throwing it at her. Dumb, but it hit her in the back. Hard. It was enough to give her nerve damage. It’s not the worst thing, she knows people who have it a lot worse, but she doesn’t enjoy the spasms she gets nearly every day. She’s always in at least a little bit of pain (and often more than a little), and that’s not acceptable to Jane and Thor.

A few months after ‘the incident,’ as Darcy and Jane have taken to calling it, Thor brings them to Asgard. He doesn’t tell her how much finagling with Odin it took for him to agree, but he had. Because Jane and Thor are now Jane, Darcy, and Thor, Darcy is now a consort of the prince, and therefore deserves Asgardian medical treatment. At least that’s how Thor had explained it. Hey, she’s not complaining.

Darcy, Jane, and Thor are in Thor’s room in Asgard’s palace. Darcy’s lying naked on Thor’s bed, covered only by a blanket, which isn’t unusual at all lately. Eir has just finished placing a dozen small gold adhesive circles on her back and her lower torso. She thinks they look like little gold wart band aids, but she has a feeling Eir wouldn’t appreciate the comparison, so she keeps that to herself. They’re controlled by the small screened device Eir hands to Thor. She wants to call it a tablet, but it looks so much more advanced than any tablet she’s seen.

“Thor knows how to operate them,” Eir says to Darcy. Thor nods. “There may be some...euphoria. I’ll be nearby if you need anything, and I’ll come to check on you when it’s finished.”

They thank her as she leaves. Darcy knows what “euphoria” means. That’s the reason Eir is leaving them alone while the little band aids do their thing. According to Thor, the sensation of the nerves being stimulated as they heal can be...arousing. Since the little gold band aids sometimes make Asgardians horny, they think it’s very likely to happen to her weaker human body, so Eir is more than happy to leave her alone with Thor and Jane.

“Ready?” Jane asks. She’s sitting criss-cross on the bed next to Darcy, holding her hand. Thor’s sitting on the edge of the bed on Darcy’s other side, the tablet in his hand.

“Yep,” Darcy says. “Hit me.”

Thor smiles down at her, then presses something on the screen. The gold circles come to life, a very gentle buzz coming from each of them. It’s...odd. It doesn’t hurt, but there’s a strange tingling running through her lower body. The back pain she’s had all day is slowly fading, replaced by an almost weightless feeling. Then—

“Whoa,” Darcy breathes, tightening her grip on Jane’s hand.

“Bad?” Jane asks.

“Nooope,” Darcy says. “Very good.”

Very good. It’s like a low current of electricity is running through her, like when Thor fucks her with lightning at his fingertips, and she definitely feels it pulsing between her legs. She presses her thighs together and gasps, because damn, that feels good. There’s already a wet spot on the sheets under her.

They’d talked about this, what they would do, and only if she weren’t uncomfortable. Well, Darcy is definitely ready and definitely not uncomfortable.

“Please…” Darcy says, pushing at the blanket covering her.

Jane and Thor don’t need to be told twice. Jane pulls the blanket off her completely while Thor leans in, kissing her deeply. Jane settles between their thighs, small hands spreading her wide. Darcy moans into Thor’s kiss as soon as Jane’s tongue touches her, every sensation feeling magnified.

Thor pulls back from the kiss to check the tablet on the mattress next to them. Satisfied, he turns back to her, his hands finding her breasts, pinching and rolling her sensitive nipples. Sex is always good with them, but it usually takes her a lot longer to get worked up like this. Her thighs are already trembling on either side of Jane’s face, back arching as Jane slips three fingers into her desperate cunt.

She’s close and they can tell. Jane presses up against her g-spot, rolling her tongue against Darcy’s hard clit. Thor checks the tablet again before dropping his mouth to her breast, sucking hard on her nipple. She’s being overwhelmed in the best way, pleasure rushing through her, ratcheting higher and higher. Jane closes her lips around Darcy’s clit, sucking while fluttering her tongue, and with Thor’s mouth on her breast, that’s all Darcy can take.

Darcy lets out a gasping whine as she comes, nails digging into Thor’s arm. It flows over her in waves, prolonged by Jane’s mouth, until Darcy goes limp on the bed, breathing hard like she’d just been running. Thor presses a soft kiss to her lips before checking the tablet. Jane crawls up to kneel next to Thor, looking over his shoulder.

“Almost done,” Thor says, tangling his fingers in her hair.

That makes sense. She can still feel the tingling from the circles, but it’s not sending the “euphoria” through her anymore. She thinks she’s probably too tired, but they warned her that would probably happen too.

“You can fall asleep. We’ll wake you up when Eir’s back,” Jane says.

“Sounds good,” Darcy says, already half asleep. Cool.

Chapter Text

Darcy is pissed. Not as pissed as she was a couple hours ago when she was nearly incandescent with rage after finding out the reason her and Jane’s funding was killed, why they were stuck with SHIELD, was Grant fucking Ward. Her damn boyfriend.

The man she’s been dating for six months is the one who’s made sure any civilian funding and job offers disappear. He’s the one who’s blocking all of their requests for SHIELD to review their contract (the one they’d been forced to sign), or to review their NDAs, or to unclassify even a small part of their lives so they don’t have to ask SHIELD’s permission to move to a different damn apartment complex. Grant Ward.

So yes, she’s filled with righteous indignation as she marches down the hallways of the latest bullshit remote SHIELD facility she and Jane have been sent to. She’d given it a few hours of fuming before acting because she’s been known to react rashly on occasion. She’s still pissed, but not to the point where she wants to slash all Grant’s tires (or his face), so she’s considering this the best she’s gonna be for a while. And she has a plan.

See, Grant fucking Ward may be generally well liked at SHIELD, but he does have a few enemies. One of the people he just fucking hates is Brock Rumlow, commander of STRIKE Alpha, and Rumlow hates him right back. Darcy doesn’t know how exactly it started, if it’s just male posturing or what, but Grant always grinds his teeth at the mere mention of Rumlow, to say nothing of his temper after a day when they’ve had to work together.

Whenever they’re in the same room, they’re throwing pointed barbs back and forth, most of the time with Rumlow smirking smugly and Grant looking like he wants to throw him out the window. And that’s just in the casual settings Darcy’s seen them in. Behind closed doors, Grant can rant about Rumlow and the things he’d like to do to him for hours. Seething, rage-filled tirades as if Rumlow had personally murdered his whole damn family.

When Rumlow killed a mission Grant was planning on leading, one of his biggest assignments yet, Grant had been so livid she'd actually wondered if she should call Rumlow and warn him to check his car for a bomb or something. She's heard enough muttered threats about what he'd like to do to "that fucking bastard" to fill a very violent book.

She has no idea what they’re like when they’re actually working, but she gets along with Rumlow just fine.

She knows he’s here because he sent Rollins with Jane for her supply pickup, and he only lets himself and Rollins do that. As soon as she knocks, she has the thought that he might be in the gym, which tends to be his hangout whenever he isn’t on the clock, but then he’s answering the door.

“Lewis,” he says, eyebrows raised. She doesn’t blame him for being surprised to see her. They’re friendly, but don’t seek each other out. “Everything okay?”

“I want to murder Grant Ward,” she says matter of factly, which just makes his eyebrows climb even higher. “And since I can’t do that, and I can’t break his legs, or cut his brake lines, or burn down his house—” Her voice has started shaking in rage, and Rumlow’s starting to look a little concerned. “—I think sucking your dick would piss him off more than anything else, and I hope it gives him an aneurysm.”

Rumlow stares at her for a long moment, much longer than anyone’s ever kept silent after she offers a blowjob.

“I want to clarify,” he says slowly, watching her face closely. “You’re sober?”

She rolls her eyes, but fair. “Yes.”

“This isn’t just a romantic spat where you’ll be back together in a few days?”

Darcy’s lip curls into a disgusted sneer. “No.” That’s a good point though. She should formally dump him soon. Painfully.

He leans in, narrowing his eyes. “You’re not an undercover agent trying to seduce a STRIKE commander?”

She can’t help the slight smile at that. “I am not,” Darcy says. “I’d do this a lot smoother if I were.”

“Mm,” Rumlow hums, nodding seriously, before letting desire bleed onto his face, something she thinks she’s seen on the edges during their interactions, but she hadn’t been sure. Well, now she is.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, want starting to pool low in her body, want that has less to do with infuriating Grant and more with what she thinks Rumlow could do with his mouth. Her tongue darts out to lick at the seam of her lips, and Rumlow’s eyes follow the movement, darkening.

He takes a step back, making room for her to walk past him and into his room. “Then get in here,” he says, his voice lower than it’d been moments ago.

She doesn’t need to be told twice. With the way he’s standing, there’s no way she could get by him without touching him (she knows that’s by design), so she makes it good, putting her hands on his sides and pressing the front of her body against his as she scootches by. The way his jaw clenches is very gratifying.

Rumlow’s room is mostly bare and utilitarian, with only a Hot Wheels car and a few books on his bedside table to give it some personality. That’s fair, she figures, since they’re only supposed to be here for a couple months.

She hears the door close and lock behind her and she turns around, then Rumlow’s right there in her space, one hand resting tight on her waist, the other cradling her jaw, tilting her face up toward his. She doesn’t waste time, going up on her toes to press her lips against his. Rumlow makes a low noise in the back of his throat and yanks her even closer, their bodies pressed together as he kisses the living hell out of her.

Darcy moans into the kiss because damn, he kisses so much better than Grant. She slips her hands up under his shirt, nails digging in just a bit as she drags them up his back. He hisses and tightens his grip on her, walking her backwards as she does her best to get him out of his shirt. He stops kissing her just long enough to let her, then he’s pushing her down onto his bed and crawling between her legs, running his hands up her bare thighs and under the hem of her dress.

“I’m supposed to be the one blowing you,” she reminds him, though she lets him pull her dress over her head and toss it to the side, leaving her in just her bra and panties. Black, thankfully, not her Care Bears set. He’s hovering above her, hands planted on the mattress on either side of her head.

“Yeah, but knowing I made his sweet little girlfriend come harder than she ever did with him is going to piss him off for years to come,” Rumlow says, pressing a kiss just under her jaw, nipping a bit at her skin as he pulls away.

He kisses the hollow of her throat, then the top of her breast as he reaches around her, unclasping her bra and throwing it toward her dress. She lets out a throaty moan as he licks over her hard nipple, then takes it between his lips and sucks. She threads her fingers through his thick hair as his hand squeezes her other breast, thumb rolling over her nipple. Her breasts have always been sensitive, and he’s touching her like he’s been thinking about it for a while (she’s seen him look when he thinks he’s being sly, so she’s pretty sure he has been).

“Rumlow,” she gasps when he nips at her, because fuck that feels good.

“My name’s Brock,” he says, switching his mouth to her other breast, her wet nipple tightening against the cooler air. He sucks hard on the skin under her areola, and she knows (with a viscous little thrill) that’s going to leave a mark. “I’d rather hear that from you than hear what Rollins calls me.”

“What, he doesn’t call you ‘commander?’ ” she teases, then whimpers when he pinches her nipple just hard enough to make things tighten even more between her thighs.

“No,” he says with a grin. “Though you could.”

“Mm, that so, commander?” she says, biting her lip as his hand trails from her breast down her torso, fingers toying with the waistband of her panties.

His eyes darken as he looks back up at her, making her breath catch. His gaze doesn’t waver as he slides her panties down her hips, his large hands touching as much of her skin as they can. He only looks down when he gets to her ankles, pulling her panties off completely and dropping them off the side of the bed.

Brock runs his deliciously rough hands up her calves, up to her thighs. He gently spreads her legs, hands dragging up her inner thighs, thumbs brushing over her wet labia. She feels exposed with him just staring like that, but he looks like he’s famished and she’s a feast.

He doesn’t make her wait longer. He glances up at her before leaning in, tracing her opening with his tongue. She’s not embarrassed at her whimper, because wow, he’s good at working her up, and she’s never been exactly patient. He grins up at her like he knows that, and she’s sure he’s going to drag it out just to tease her, but then he’s burying his face between her thighs and eating her out like it’s his job.

She gasps, back arching, because Christ, he knows what he’s doing. He rolls his tongue against the side of her clit just long enough to work her up, before he moves on, tracing her opening, flicking his tongue against her clit, spearing his tongue up inside her. In just a couple minutes he seems to know just how to play her body, tension coiling tighter inside her.

Brock traces her opening with two fingers, slowly sliding them into her. She gasps his name, and that just makes him growl against her. He curls his fingers inside her, finding her g-spot almost immediately. She moans, arching her back and pressing against his face. He doesn’t seem to mind, just flutters his tongue harder against the side of her clit, his stubble scratching deliciously against her inner thighs. She’ll probably grumble at the beard burn later, but it feel so fucking good that she doesn’t care.

“Brock,” she whimpers, thighs trembling on either side of his head.

She’s getting close, and he seems to know it. He keeps up the pressure against her clit and g-spot until she’s calling his name, shaking apart above him. She’s still trembling when he crawls up the mattress next to her.

“Holy shit,” she says, breathing hard. He grins down at her, propped up on an elbow. She pokes his impressively muscled chest. “I’m going to ride you like a damn stallion as soon as I can breathe again.”

Brock laughs. “Sounds good to me,” he says, twisting a strand of her hair around his finger. “Then we can work on making it look like Ward’s brakes wore out on their own.”

She pauses, hand stilling where it’s been dragging down his chest. “I forgot about him,” she admits, and Brock looks incredibly smug at that. Thoughts of Grant had fled the second Brock put his mouth on her. “Okay, first sex, then murder.”

Chapter Text

Darcy hadn’t at all expected to feel sexy six months into her pregnancy, especially with how much rounder she is than the average, and how her feet are killing her, and all the acid reflux. But it’s hard not to when Bucky is so clearly aroused by every inch of her.

When they’re alone (and even sometimes when they’re not), his hands are never far from her. He’s constantly pressing up against her back, large hands spanning her belly, swollen with his child, his cock hard against her. She’s hit a phase of her pregnancy where she’s desperately aroused, and Bucky is so very happy to provide. The sex has always been incredible with him, but this is something else entirely. Her doctor had cleared her for sex, and Bucky has taken that as a mission.

They’ll be watching TV and without any prompting, Bucky will drop to his knees, tug down her pants or flip up her skirt, and bury his face between her thighs until she’s writhing and his face is soaked from her. He takes her against the kitchen counter, bending her over with his hand caressing her belly. He locks the door to the lab when Jane’s out and fucks her into a sleepy daze. More often than not she falls asleep on her side with his cock deep inside her, his hands running over her belly and swollen tits. But then her milk comes in, and he becomes a whole different animal.

Her tits have been achy and swollen for months, which she thinks is ridiculous since they hardly needed to get larger, but they are, and are so, so sensitive. Bucky can spend hours playing with her body and pays special attention to her oversensitive nipples, sucking and licking under she’s a wet, desperate mess.

That’s where he is when they first discover it. Darcy is lounging on their bed, propped up on a pile of pillows with Bucky kneeling between her thighs. He has two fingers fucking lazily in her cunt, brushing her g-spot every few strokes, his other hand playing with a nipple, and his mouth latched onto the other. She’s not particularly close, just enjoying the slow pleasure rolling through her, when Bucky goes still. He pulls off her breast to look up at her, eyes darker than she’s seen since he first saw her belly begin to swell.

“What?” Darcy asks, more than a little breathless.

Bucky lets out a low rumble in his throat and takes her breasts more fully in his hands, gently squeezing, and that when she feels and sees it, the drops of white beading at her nipples.

“Oh,” she says blankly, not entirely sure how she feels about that, but then Bucky’s mouth is on her tit and sucking, and oh god, yes, she’s so on board.

She gasps and arches her back as he sucks harder, his fingers rolling and squeezing her other nipple until it beads with more white drops.

She doesn't have much that first time, but that changes over time, encouraged by Bucky’s enthusiastic mouth and hands, until weeks later her tits are full and heavy, aching for Bucky's touch.

His favorite is fucking her in front of their mirror, when he’s up on his knees, her back to his front, her body held up against his effortlessly. He likes to watch them, watch how her body moves, watch her milk leaking from her hard nipples, flowing down her body. He told her once how fertile she looks, how supple, like a hedonistic goddess, and well, she can’t help but love that.

"Look at you," he murmurs in her ear as he fucks up into her. They're on their knees on the bed in front of the mirror again, one of his arms wrapped around her chest, his fingers squeezing and pinching at her hard, aching nipple, milk trickling down her chest. His other hand is between her thighs, lazily circling her hard little clit.

"Bucky," she whimpers, breathing heavily. She's clinging to his arms, letting him maneuver her however he wants.

He hums in her ear, speeding up the fingers on her clit. She's so close to the edge. It feels like it's been hours that Bucky’s been playing with her, teasing her needy body. She's trembling in his grip, pleasure building inside her. He squeezes her breast, his cock jumping inside her at the stream of milk from her nipple.

Bucky is so good about never letting her swollen tits get too full and achy, happy to use his mouth and hands to empty her when she needs it. And he always reacts like his, with pure desperate desire, fucking into her quicker. He bites down on her neck, fingers quickening between her thighs until she comes with a strangled cry, his arms the only thing keeping her upright.

Bucky hisses her name, arms tightening around her as he comes, cock jerking as he empties himself inside her. He breathes heavily, keeping them still for a few long moments before slowly withdrawing from her body and gently lowering her to the bed.

Bucky gently wipes her clean with the soft towel they'd had the foresight to grab before they'd started, then lies down next to her, wrapping his arms around her as she catches her breath.

"Goddamn," she says when she can speak again.

Bucky laughs, spanning a hand over her swollen belly. "That's what I like to hear."

Chapter Text

Darcy’s been coming to the Obsidian since she and Jane first came to New York almost a year ago. It had started because she’d overheard one of Bruce’s assistants complaining that her boyfriend was into “that weird stuff at the Obsidian.” A few minutes on DuckDuckGo and she found out that the Obsidian was one of the nicer kink clubs in the area. She went to an impact play night and signed up for a membership on the spot.

She’s been looking forward to tonight’s party since it was announced a month ago. The theme is simply pleasure. Whether you want to have sex in public, watch others have sex in public, or masturbate in public, this is the event to go to.

She’s wearing a short, low cut black dress that swishes around her thighs and a pair of glittery black heels she’d managed to get Tony to pay for under the guise of needing them for a Stark Industries gala. The bouncers all know her by now and chat as they take the cover charge at the door, then she’s walking into the darkened room.

The Obsidian has deep green walls and dark floors. Art is displayed on the walls, most for sale, as well as 1920s-style gas lamps that are dimmed to the point that it always gives Darcy the vibe of a luxurious modern speakeasy.

The main room is spacious with different little areas set up with different equipment and furniture, a few alcoves where curtains can be drawn for a smidgen of privacy, and a hallway covered by a black curtain that leads to private rooms that can be rented. There’s a low stage that sometimes holds performances, but tonight has some of the club’s sex furniture displayed.

Darcy’s not late, but there are already people scattered throughout the club in various states on undress, many already having sex. She checks her bag at the coat check and makes her way into the club. She hasn’t made specific plans to meet up with any of the people she casually plays with here, figuring she’ll just see where the night takes her. If she ends up with two fingers inside herself while others watch, that’s a perfectly lovely night in her book.

Darcy walks slowly around the club, stopping to watch a white woman with pink hair very enthusiastically eating out a black woman with purple hair. She loves watching Brittany and Alexis, and knows they’d welcome her for the next round, but she’s not quite ready to jump in yet. She watches until Alexis comes and switches places with Brittany to move on, cunt tingling with excitement.

She sees a good number of people she recognizes from other events and stops for a long while to watch a man using a silicone paddle to spank the woman with him before roughly fucking her over a padded bench. (Darcy’s weak for some good impact play and she knows it.) She only moves on when they’re done and basking in the afterglow.

She can feel just how wet she is when she starts walking toward the stage, her cunt throbbing between her thighs. A woman she’s played with before is lazily masturbating on a large cushion on the stage, slowly fucking herself with a silicone cock, and Darcy’s thinking of taking up one of the cushions near her, when someone near the alcoves catches her eye.

Darcy had figured she’d run into someone she knows eventually (she refuses to believe everyone she knows is as vanilla as they act), but wasn’t really expecting that someone to be Rumlow, the STRIKE commander she sees around the tower a few times a month. But seeing him here, dressed in black pants and a tight charcoal tee, he looks perfectly at home.

And he’s staring straight at her. They’ve nodded at each other in the halls, but they’ve never actually met, and he’s definitely never looked at her like he is now. It seems like he’s here alone, though there are a few women and men near him that look like they’d definitely like to change that, but his attention is solidly, unwaveringly on her. He’s staying halfway across the room, making it clear that it’s her choice if she interacts with him or not.

Darcy changes direction, heading away from the stage. She weaves her way between displays and separate little groups of people in various sex acts. A woman she knows looks like she’s going to try to talk to her, but sees where her attention is and just smirks as she walks by. Rumlow hasn’t moved from where he’s been leaning against the wall, though he’s standing up a little straighter, his eyes intently following her.

The closer she gets, the higher anticipation builds inside her. She’s had a lot of men look at her like they want to fuck her, but no one’s looked at her quite as intensely as this, and she’s never been this sure that whatever’s about to happen will be fantastic. Sometimes you can just tell that someone would be good in bed, and Rumlow has that more than anyone she’s ever seen.

His eyes are heated as she closes the final distance between them, and she’s sure she looks similar. She doesn’t have a plan for what to do when she reaches him, and hopes she won’t put her foot in her mouth, but he holds a hand out as soon as she gets close, probably saving her from herself there.

She takes his hand without hesitation, and he pulls her right into him, one hand settling on her waist, the other cupping her throat, thumb brushing over her jaw. He looks down at her for a moment, his eyes looking nearly black in the low light, then he’s kissing her.

Darcy wraps her arms around him, clinging to his back because goddamn, he can kiss. He smells fucking incredible, and she presses even closer, the hard line of his cock pressing against her belly. She gasps into the kiss when his hand curls tight in her hair, drawing a rumble from deep in his chest.

She’s sure she looks a bit dazed when they pull apart, but he does too, and she’s proud of that. He glances to the side then takes her hand again, leading her to one of the alcoves set into the wall. It’s a round area surrounded by curtains that can be drawn closed. There are usually a few armchairs on the five-foot area rug, but tonight each alcove has a different piece of covered sex furniture that employees are sure to clean and give a new cover between uses.

The alcove Rumlow chooses has what looks like a low sturdy foam coach with two unattached wedges as a back. He shoves those off before kissing her again, hands on either side of her face.

“Lie down for me, princess,” he murmurs against her lips. It’s the first time he’s spoken to her tonight, maybe ever, and the naked want in it sends a shiver through her.

She nods and holds onto his arm as she kicks off her heels. She has a feeling this is going to be good, and she’d hate to gouge a hole in his back in the middle. He watches hungrily as she lies down in the center of the foam couch then drops to his knees, running his hands up her bare legs. He wraps his hands around her legs, just above her knees and yanks her down to him, her dress riding up and exposing the burgundy lace hipster panties she’d chosen for the night. He runs a finger up the wet fabric between her thighs, eyes dark, before hooking his finger in the waistband and pulling them down her legs.

There are a few people watching them, and she has a feeling that number is going to grow. Rumlow pulls her thighs over his shoulders and glances back up at her with a smirk, then he’s burying his face between her legs, and all thoughts of anyone else fly from her head.

Rumlow takes his time exploring her, fingers and tongue touching every bit of her he can reach. He presses nipping kisses to her inner thighs while he works one finger, then two into her aching cunt. They make an obscene wet, squelching noise as he works them in and out of her, brushing against her g-spot on every other pass.

Darcy’s legs jerk on either side of his face when tongue traces an arc above her clit, stimulating the whole nerve before rolling his tongue against it. She threads a shaking hand into his hair, gripping it tighter when he pushes into her touch. He’s found a rhythm that’s making her tighten around his fingers, drawing pleasure from deep in her body.

There are a dozen people behind him watching them now, some she recognizes and some she doesn’t. Her gaze falls back down him to find him looking up at her. He presses insistently against her g-spot, tongue rolling harder against her clit, and she’s coming with a ragged gasp. He coaxes the pleasure from her body and doesn’t let up, even as her thighs are shaking against his rough stubble, his fingers and tongue working her until she’s tugging on his hair, just on the edge of too much.

The bottom half of his face is drenched when he raises his head and crawls up her body. She tugs him down for a kiss, chasing the taste of herself on his tongue. She slips her hands up under his shirt, dragging her nails up his side, making him growl into her mouth. He only pulls away to let her pull his shirt over his head, then his lips are on her throat, then her collarbone, then the swell of her breast, right above the top of her dress.

Rumlow pushes the dress strap off her shoulder, making a hungry noise as her breast is exposed, then his mouth is on her, licking and sucking and nipping the sensitive flesh. Her orgasm had been incredible, but her arousal is far from gone and is quickly coaxed from a flame to a raging fire again by his mouth and hands.

Darcy’s back arches off the couch when his mouth finds her hard nipple, a moan falling from her lips. She can feel him grin against her breast, and she figures two can play. She rolls her hips, pressing up against the hard ridge of his cock in his pants, grinning at the groan he muffles into her skin. Her fingers find the waistband of his pants, undoing the button and drawing down the zippler, careful to not catch his skin.

She pouts when he pulls away, but it’s only far enough for him to push his pants down around his thighs, freeing a thick cock that she’d love to get her mouth on, but he seems to have other plans in mind. He pulls out two condoms from his pocket, holding them for her to see.

“Latex or non?” he asks. His voice is much rougher than earlier, and that sends a little thrill through her.

“Non, please,” she says. She doesn’t have a latex allergy, but she isn’t a fan of the feeling and will take an alternative if there is one.

He nods and tears the packet open, rolling the condom onto his cock. He catches her flick her tongue out to wet her lips, and a cocky grin spreads over his face. That’s fine with her; he can be as cocky as he wants if he’s this damn good in bed.

Rumlow goes to his knees between her spread thighs, brushing the tip of his cock through her wet folds, making her whimper when he bumps her clit. He moves forward slowly, giving her time to adjust as the blunt head presses into her. He’s given her enough fantastic foreplay that it doesn’t hurt, but it’s still a stretch, and in the best possible way.

His hands are tight on her waist as he sheathes himself fully inside her, stilling to give her a moment if she needs it. Sweet of him, but she’s so good. She rolls her hips, making him hiss and grip her tighter. She blows a kiss up at him, which makes him huff a laugh. Then he pulls back until just the tip is inside her and slams back into her, a lewd moan escaping her.

Rumlow starts a steady pace, tilting her hips up just so, his cock dragging over her g-spot. One hand drops between her legs, gently circling her clit. It's not enough to get her off, not yet, but it feels fucking incredible. She can't stop the whimpers and moans falling from her lips, not with how he's playing her body. There are more people gathered now to watch, but she doesn’t pay them any attention, lost in what Rumlow’s doing to her.

He lets go of her waist to lean over her, hands planted on either side of his head. She drags her hands up his chest, watching the way he shudders when her nails dig in just a bit. He gets even closer, dropping to his elbows so their bodies are pressed together, making it easier for him to nip at her neck.

She rolls her hips into his thrusts, her clit grinding against him, winding tension in her tighter and tighter. She hitches a leg up over his hips, the change of angle letting him slide even deeper into her desperate cunt.

She's starting to tighten around him, her orgasm building deep inside her. Her arms tremble where they're wrapped around his back, her breathing getting shorter.

"I'm close," she manages to gasp out.

"I know," he growls in her ear, the pure desire in his voice making her breath catch.

He fucks her just a bit harder, one hand snaking between their bodies to play with her clit. Knowing that they're being watched, that the others are seeing what he's doing to her, how thoroughly he takes her apart, and knowing that he could have had any of them, but it's her he's fucking into, it just plain does it for her.

Her orgasm slams into her, waves of pleasure rolling through her body. She’s completely lost in it and in him, shaking apart in his arms as he fucks her through it, dragging her orgasm on and on until he stills, his breath harsh in her ear. His cock jerks inside her as he comes, Christ she loves that, his body hunched over hers.

They stay like that for a long moment, both regaining their breath and coming down a bit. Rumlow has a hand buried in her hair, his lips pressed against the soft skin of her throat. She’s not particularly inclined to move, feeling thoroughly fucked out and enjoying luxuriating in it, but she knows they’ll need to soon. Others will want to use the alcove, and the Obsidian staff will need to do a quick clean and re-cover the couch.

Rumlow presses a kiss to the side of her throat before slowly raising himself above her, his cock slipping from her body. He takes care of the condom, tossing it into the swanky gold metal trash can toward the back of the alcove. The crowd behind them is dispersing, heading to other couples or groups as the two of them right themselves. She pulls the strap of her dress back over her shoulder as she sits up, watching him tuck himself back into his pants. A loss, honestly.

There’s a box of tissues next to the trash can. Rumlow grabs a few and reaches between her thighs, gently wiping her clean, or as clean as she can get without a shower. She honestly hadn’t expected that, and it touches her a bit more than she expects. She’ll never be able to look at him the same way at the tower again, and now that she knows what he’s like in bed, she really doesn’t want to.

Darcy’s just slipping her panties back on when Rumlow finds his shirt and tugs it back over his head.

“That’s a shame,” she teases, her voice a bit hoarser than earlier.

“What is?” he asks, and yep, his voice is too.

“You putting a shirt back on,” she says, sliding down to the end of the couch and slipping her heels back on. “A tragedy, really.”

“You’re one to talk,” he says, nodding at her now-righted dress.

“I guess next time you’ll have to try a little harder to get me naked,” she says.

Rumlow offers her a hand, which she takes. He tugs her to her feet a little harder than she was expecting, pulling her into his body instead. She braces herself on her chest, his hands on her upper arms.

“I want to see every inch of you, princess,” he rumbles, lips brushing her ear. “I wanted to wait for that until it was just us, and I could look as long as I want.”

Her heart beats harder at that, fingers curling against his chest. He pulls back to look down at her face, and the expression makes it clear he’s very serious.

“Name the time,” she says.

Chapter Text

Natasha had told her what was about to happen as soon as the canister exploded in the lab. It wasn’t even their canister, but something that was sent to Jane’s lab instead of Frederickson’s by mistake. Natasha had recognized the smell and told her it was a gas developed to induce arousal, extreme arousal. It had seemed like a stupid thing to invent to Darcy, but it had acted quickly enough that she didn’t have long to mull it over.

Natasha had asked for her consent, and Darcy had given it immediately.

JARVIS had put the privacy filter over the glass, turning it opaque, and thank god because no one else needs to see Natasha and Darcy like this. They’ve both shed their clothes, their bodies completely bare. They’re on the futon Darcy had brought for science overnighters, grinding their wet cunts together. They’re desperate for friction, an all-encompassing, aching need rushing through their veins. Darcy knows there’s a better way to do this, but she can’t think of it, mind clouded and focused only on the need between her thighs.

It’s Natasha who manages to muddle through the fog to a solution, shoving Darcy onto her back and moving over her, straddling her face. Darcy understands immediately, wrapping her hands around Natasha’s thighs and pulling her down, burying her face in her pink swollen cunt. It’s barely a second later that Natasha’s tongue is on Darcy’s clit.

Darcy has never been great in this position, way too easily distracted by what's happening between her own legs, but that doesn’t seem to be an issue now, not with the overwhelming need taking her over. She devours Natasha’s perfect cunt, spearing her tongue inside her, tracing over her clit, pulling Natasha down to grind on her face.

Natasha’s mouth is indescribable. She wraps her lips around Darcy’s clit and sucks, shoving two fingers inside her, and that’s all it takes before Darcy’s coming, pleasure spilling from her body easily. It’s fantastic, but the need doesn’t abate, and Natasha doesn’t stop, curling fingers against Darcy’s g-spot, making her whimper.

Darcy moves her tongue faster over Natasha’s clit, feeling her tense and start to tremble above her. It’s a hard angle, but she manages to slip two fingers into Natasha, adding a third when she finds she’s open enough. Natasha moans against Darcy’s clit as she comes, cunt clenching around Darcy’s fingers, but like Darcy, it doesn’t seem to be enough.

They pull orgasms from each other with tongues and lips and fingers until they’re exhausted, lying next to each other, one of Natasha’s thighs shoved between Darcy’s. They grind down on each other weakly, cunts warm and red and swollen. It feels like it’s almost enough, that it’s almost out of their systems, the desperation slowly fading. They’re whimpering and moaning into each other’s mouths, until they shudder through one last orgasm, trembling as they still.

JARVIS dims the lights, like he knows just how exhausted they are. Darcy can’t imagine moving, not with how weak she feels. Natasha just drags the afghan off the edge of the futon and throws it over them both, collapsing a moment later.

Chapter Text

Natasha is an evil genius. That’s what Darcy’s going with. Beautiful, smart, and fucking evil. Darcy had lost a bet, and she really should have been smart enough to not make a bet against Natasha, but in her defence, she’d been a little drunk.

Natasha had waltzed into Darcy’s apartment this afternoon with the red box in her hands, and Darcy had immediately known what was about to happen. Natasha had put the chastity belt on Darcy herself. It’s low profile, designed to be worn under clothes. It’s metal on the outside with a soft, padded inside that doesn’t rub or pinch. Very considerate, if that were all.

Natasha had bought one with a couple extras. Attached to the inside of the chastity belt are a thick but short silicone dildo and a bulbous anal plug. Natasha had enjoyed working them into Darcy, working her up to a wet and needy mess. But before Darcy could come, Natasha locked the belt, putting the key on a chain around her neck and tucking it into her shirt.

Walking had been awkward at first, but she’d managed to get the hang of it on the way out of the tower. She doesn’t know where Natasha is taking her, but every step jostles the toys inside her and all she can focus on is walking without her need showing on her face.

They walk a couple blocks before Natasha stops, pulling Darcy into a restaurant they’ve been to before. It’s one of Tony’s favorites, all swanky and dark enough that Darcy has to squint to read the menu. They’re seated at a round booth in the back corner, secluded enough that they can only see others if they crane their necks or if waiters walk by.

Darcy had hoped the seat would be soft enough to take some of the pressure off her, but it’s more solid and presses the toys inside her even deeper. She has to close her eyes for a second to get ahold of herself while Natasha talks to the waiter. When she opens her eyes, the waiter is gone.

“You’re awful,” Darcy says.

“I know,” Natasha says, smiling widely.

“What’s your end goal here?” Darcy asks, narrowing her eyes.

Natasha just grins as the waiter comes back with their waters and menus. Natasha orders for them without looking, which is fine with Darcy. As soon as the waiter is gone, Natasha turns to her, eyes traveling down her body, taking in how stiffly she’s sitting.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” Natasha says, and alarm bells immediately go off in Darcy’s head. Darcy looks at her suspiciously, which just makes Natasha grin wider. “I’ll take this off when we get back from dinner...if you can make yourself come before we leave.”

Darcy looks at her blankly for a second before it clicks what Natasha wants. She wants to see Darcy grind against the toys inside her and make herself come, rocking in her seat. In the restaurant. She supposes it makes sense why she asked for the private booth way back here.

“Oh, you’re awful,” Darcy groans.

Natasha’s grin widens. “You don’t have to,” she says. “But it’ll be much quicker this way.”

The bet had been she’d wear it for six hours. She’d be shaving a lot of time off her sentence, if only she made herself come in public. Natasha knows about Darcy’s little exhibitionist streak, but she hasn’t done something quite like this. And her cunt is aching even thinking about it.

“You have maybe ten minutes until the waiter comes back with our appetizers,” Natasha says.

Darcy scooches a bit farther into the corner of the booth, as hidden as possible. The only way someone would see her is if they got within five feet of the table, and she does think Natasha would warn her then.

Her face is hot, her heart racing as she starts rocking in her seat. It takes a moment for her to get the right angle, the belt curved enough that it’s hard to grind her clit against it, but she manages. She’s able to keep herself from moaning, but it’s close. The dildo and plug shift inside her, the dildo rubbing against her g-spot as she rocks against it.

Natasha’s eyes are dark as they watch her, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips. Darcy knows Natasha’s listening for anyone coming, and that’s all that’s letting her do this. She rocks faster, biting her lip to keep herself quiet. Natasha’s hand disappears under the table, which makes desire spike sharper in Darcy.

“Nat,” Darcy whispers, body starting to tighten, clenching around the toys stuffed inside her.

“Let me see, baby,” Natasha says, voice low, her arm moving below the table, and fuck, knowing that Natasha’s touching herself is so doing it for her.

Darcy grinds against the belt harder, desperate to come before anyone can see her. The thrill of doing this in public, the potential for being caught, and seeing Natasha touch herself is just too much. Darcy shakes as her orgasm ripples through her, her cunt and ass clenching around the toys. Natasha gives a little shudder, grinning at Darcy the whole time.

Darcy’s trembling, cunt still pulsing around the dildo, when Natasha leans over and says, “Fifteen seconds.”

Darcy sits up straighter, trying even her breath and not look like someone that just masturbated against the seat of a restaurant that serves eighty-dollar entrees. Sure enough, the waiter appears with their appetizers (Darcy has no idea what Natasha ordered) fifteen seconds later. Natasha winks at her and thanks the waiter.

“We’ll take our entrees to go, please,” Natasha says.

Chapter Text

The bathhouse isn’t the weirdest thing Tony’s had installed in the tower, not even close. (That award probably goes to the roller rink. Darcy has no idea how Pepper manages to rein him in as well as she does.) He also hired a spa staff to come in a few times a week, but the bathhouse is open even when they’re not working. With how often the Avengers end up thrown off buildings and slammed into walls and punched all over, it only makes sense to have a place where they can relax and let the pain and stress wash off them.

Darcy had been thrilled. She and Jane have visited a lot of bathhouses and saunas while traveling to different observatories around the world. It’s not always easy to get Jane to take a break, but coaxing her out of work mode with a promise of a visit to a sauna or bathhouse usually does the trick.

It hadn’t worked today though. It’s past midnight, and Jane’s showing no sign of slowing down. She barely even acknowledges Darcy speaking to her, and really there’s not much Darcy can do to help anyway, so she decides to just go by herself.

“Going to the bathhouse, Jane,” Darcy says loudly, hoping to get through the science haze, but no luck. With a shrug, Darcy leaves. She’s fine being by herself and doubts Jane will notice or care that she’s gone.

The bathhouse is on one of the private floors that you need a key code and a scan from JARVIS to prove you’re allowed, and Darcy loves being allowed somewhere you need a key code and an AI scan.

The floor the bathhouse is on looks nothing like the other floors of the tower. It’s dark getting out of the elevator, lights dimmed and the walls painted a deep charcoal. She walks into the women’s locker room, tiled in deep red and better lit than the hallway. She strips and puts her belongings in one of the lockers, takes a quick shower, because it’s rude to get into communal water when you’re dirty, and heads out of the locker room to the pools, wrapped only in a towel, her hair piled up in a messy bun on top of her head.

There are communal pools, private rooms (though they’re rarely used), and separate rooms off to the left for spa services. The communal pools room has curved, vaulted ceilings and walls that are cladded with natural stone. The lights are dim in here too, giving a sense of calm relaxation. If she didn’t know she’s in a big tower in the middle of the city, she’d be sure she was in one of the old luxurious bathhouses she and Jane have visited overseas.

There’s no one here but her, but that’s not surprising for 12:47 a.m. on a Thursday. She sets her towel on a bench near one of the larger pools, one of the warmest ones. She’s feeling a little chilly since they keep the lab so cool, so she’s looking forward to being very warm. The water feels fantastic, and she can’t help but let out a satisfied sigh and she lowers herself completely, relaxing back against the curved neck rest.

Darcy closes her eyes, giving her senses over to the warm water and soft music playing. The little aches in her back and feet start to fade, though she knows they won’t disappear all together. She really needs to wear better shoes if she’ll be standing all day. And get a better desk chair. Tony will probably pay for it if she asks. She also should stop slouching, but that’s hard when you’re on hour twelve of your work day.

Darcy’s lost in her thoughts, feeling weightless and tranquil, when she hears soft footsteps approaching. She peeks one eye open to see Bucky walking toward her, a towel tied around his waist and his hair pulled back. He sends a soft smile her way and she smiles right back. It’s impossible to not smile back at Bucky.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks when he gets close.

“Not at all. My bath is your bath,” she says.

Bucky drops the towel (and even though she’s seen it all before, it’s hard not to react to Bucky naked, because hot damn) and slips into the water, settling a few feet from her.

“Long day?” he asks, head tilted toward her.

“Very,” she says. “You?”

“Very. Got thrown through a wall,” he says. “I didn’t want to go to bed stiff, so figured I’d come down.”

“Thrown through a wall,” she says. “I feel like you should be in medical instead of here.”

Bucky shrugs. “Already went. I’m almost all healed. Just got some stiffness and bruising,” he says. “Fit as a fiddle.”

“And ready for love?” she teases, finishing the lyric.

“Well,” he says, a lascivious smirk tugging at his lips, “If you’re offering, I’m never saying no.”

She only thinks about it for half a second before reaching out toward him. Bucky takes her hand and tugs her through the water to him, hands falling to her waist and tugging her onto his lap. Her knees settle onto the bench on either side of his hips, her ass resting on his thighs, the water coming up to her bare breasts.

Bucky’s already half hard against her thigh, but he doesn’t seem particularly worried about it, tilting his chin up to meet her in a kiss. Darcy wraps her arms around his shoulders, fingers toying with the hairs that escaped his bun. Bucky’s metal hand travels up from her waist, up the curve of her side, until he reaches her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple. Darcy moans into his mouth, her grip tightening on him.

His other hand trails down her belly, dipping between her thighs. She’s already wet when he traces a finger around her clit, always easy for Bucky. He gently presses his thumb against her clit, starting a slow and steady rhythm designed to rile her up. She’s not feeling up for anything particularly athletic, so it’s a perfect leisurely pace for her.

“Bucky,” she whimpers against his lips when his finger circles her opening, testing if she’s slick enough, then sliding into her.

Bucky just presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth and curls his finger inside her, grinning against her when she gasps. It can’t be an easy angle, but that doesn’t seem to bother him, working a second finger into her, moving them both inside her and his thumb against her clit.

Darcy can’t help rocking against his fingers, his fully hard cock rubbing against her belly. His mouth is biting kisses down her throat, and with his other hand at her breast, playing with her sensitive nipple, she knows she doesn’t have long before she comes. She drags a hand down his body to wrap around his hard cock, making him groan against her.


“Inside me,” she says, voice hitching when he presses harder against her g-spot. “Bucky, please…”

Bucky’s not particularly good at denying her anything unless he’s in a very specific mood. He slowly pulls his fingers from her, brushing her clit as he moves his hand back to her hip. She goes higher on her knees, positioning the tip of his cock at her entrance and slowly lowering herself onto it with a harsh exhale. She’s slick enough even in the water that it doesn’t hurt, but Bucky’s on the thick side, and she feels wonderfully full.

Bucky’s hands are tight on her hips as she works herself on his cock, raising and lowering herself as best she can. It’s not the easiest on the hard bench, so Bucky helps, moving his hands to her thighs and lifting her up and dragging her back down onto his cock. She rolls her hips as he moves her, grinding her clit against him, her legs trembling as tension builds inside her.

“Fuck,” Bucky groans, fingers digging into her thighs when she starts to tighten around him. Water is sloshing around them as he fucks up into her, their moans and gasps echoing through the cavernous room.

“Bucky!” Darcy gasps as she comes, her orgasm abruptly surging through her, her head thrown back, cunt fluttering around his cock.

He fucks her through it, dragging her pleasure out as he chases his own orgasm, fucking up into her clenching pussy. When he comes, it’s with a loud groan, his face pressed against her chest, his cock jerking as he empties himself inside her

They stay like that for a while, his cock slowly softening inside her. She presses her face against his neck, breathing in the clean scent of him as she struggles to get her breath back under control.

“I swear this wasn’t my plan,” he says, running his hand up and down her back, his other arm tight around her waist. “Really was just planning on a soak, and now I have to submit a bathhouse sex form so they can clean it.”

“Yeah, you poor thing,” Darcy says, voice deadpan.

Bucky snorts and presses a kiss to the side of her head. “Not what I meant. I’m never going to complain about fucking you,” he says. “I just hate that Stark was right when he said I end up filling out more of those forms than anyone else.”

“You don’t have to fuck anyone in the bathhouse,” she says.

“Are you complaining?”

“Nope, I rescind my comment.”

Chapter Text

Darcy doesn’t particularly like guns, not after having quite a few pointed at her, but it’s never bothered her that Brock has a fair few. He keeps them locked up, has never pointed one at her, and has used one to save her ass. So, whatever.

Darcy does particularly like their sex life. She likes that they’re always exploring new kinks and toys. She likes that the local sex shop employees know them by name, even though it makes Brock blush. So she’s definitely willing to try when Brock comes to her with a request.

She’s lying on her back in his bed, naked, with him kneeling between her legs. The bottom half of his face is wet from going down on her, his eyes dark with desire. Her cunt is throbbing between her legs, wet and swollen from him, slick smeared on her beard-burned inner thighs. She hasn’t come, Rumlow working her right to the edge.

“Ready, princess?”

“Yesss,” she says, breathing hard. She’s so ready. He’s been working her up for like a half hour.

Brock pulls the silencer for his pistol out from its case, turning the metal cylinder in his hands. She’s so, so wet, but he coats it in lube just to be sure. His eyes are fixed between her thighs as he spreads her labia, slowly working the silencer into her. It’s not overly thick, but it’s blunt, so he’s made sure she’s very open and relaxed.

It feels strange, but not that dissimilar to the glass dildo they have. The metal’s cool, sending a bit of a shiver through her, though not one she minds (temperature play is something they’ve discovered she loves). He slides it into her as deep as he can and looks up, eyes on her face as he rotates it inside her. She squeezes around it experimentally, letting out a satisfied hum.

“Good?” he asks, voice raspy.

“Yeah,” she says, rolling her hips a bit, telling him to get a move on.

The look on his face is pure arousal as he starts slowly fucking her with the silencer, free hand holding her open so he can see it disappearing into her. She’s not exactly sure why this does it for him (will it even be usable after this? She doesn’t know anything about silencers), but he’s enjoying it, and it feels great, so she isn’t complaining.

Brock changes the angle, the silencer brushing against her g-spot, and she’s already so close from how long his mouth had been between her thighs. She drops a hand to her clit, fluttering her finger against the side, her other hand at her breast.

“Fuck,” Brock mutters under his breath, carefully moving the silencer faster within her.

The tension coils tighter inside her and she chases it, hips rolling with Brock’s thrusts until she’s coming with a long moan. Her cunt clenches around the unforgiving metal and fuck, she loves that. Brock keeps it still within her, watching as she writhes on the bed with his silencer sitting heavy inside her.

She lets out a shuddering breath as the last waves of the orgasm ripple through her, opening her eyes and smiling lazily at him. “Ten out of ten, would do again,” she says.

He slides the silencer out of her and sets it to the side before crawling up her body, and she can see the outline of his cock straining against the front of his jeans.

Darcy grins, hooking her fingers in the belt loops of his pants. “I’m guessing good for you too then,” she says. “Get these off, mister.”

Chapter Text

The next time Darcy goes to the Obsidian, she knows she’s being followed.

Bucky had borrowed her laptop when he was hanging out with her and Jane in the lab, and she may have forgotten to clear her browsing history. He’s been watching her with a contemplative look on his face all week, so she’s not surprised when she catches a glimpse of his reflection in a store window when she’s crossing the street. She also knows that she wouldn’t be seeing him if he didn’t want her to. Interesting.

Darcy asks how Pete the bouncer’s wife is doing after having her baby and gets a big grin in response and is shown a picture of the infant in a vampire onesie. Too fucking adroable. Pete stamps her hand and lets her in with a cheery wave.

There’s no specific theme tonight, just an anything goes night. Brittany and Alexis are reclining on a chaise, watching a friend of theirs flog her boyfriend. Darcy waves as she passes and makes her way deeper into the club, past the stage (this time with a St. Andrew’s cross in the center), past her friends John and Shannon (Shannon has John’s fist inside her cunt and isn’t in a position to say hello), and past the alcoves to the black curtain separating the main club area from the private rooms.

Darcy pulls aside the curtain and steps through, walking up to Janine, the bouncer admitting people to the private rooms. She smiles at Darcy and glances at her clipboard.

“Darcy Lewis, we have room three set aside for you. Everything’s clean and ready,” Janine says. “Will anyone be joining you?”

“Yeah, tall white guy with long dark hair,” Darcy says. “Has a very old soul, tortured beauty vibe going on. You’ll know him if you see him. Goes by James.”

“You really know how to pick ’em,” Janine says with a grin. “I’ll send him your way.”

“Thanks,” she says, following the hallway of doors until she reaches the third.

Room three has deep red wallpaper with outlines of gold hexagons punctuated with the same 1920s gas lamps as the main room. Each of the private rooms has something different in it. This one is equipped with an assortment of impact play items, one of the curved sex chaise lounges, a few chairs, and a bunch of cushions in different sizes.

Darcy puts down her tote bag and pulls one of the soft round pink cushions from the pile, setting it aside for later. She pulls the ring gag from her tote and sets it on the chaise then kicks off her sparkly heels, setting them to the side. She pulls off her red dress and hangs it on the hook behind the door, leaving her in her black lace slip with built-in bra clinging to her every curve. She’s tempted to leave on the heels, but those aren’t very comfortable when she’s on her knees.

Darcy sits on the edge of the chaise with her legs crossed, facing the door, and waits. She doesn’t think it’ll be long. Bucky hadn’t been that far behind her and she really doesn’t think his curiosity would let him just wait outside until she’s done. If she’s wrong, well, she has friends in the main room who’d be happy to join her.

She’s not wrong. Only a couple minutes later, a sharp knock raps on the door. It opens before she can say anything, Bucky Barnes slipping into the room. He closes the door then turns to her, taking a few steps into the room. Whatever he’d been about to say dies on his tongue when he sees her.

Darcy stands, taking the ring gag in hand, and walks a few steps to the center of the room. Thankfully, Bucky doesn’t look alarmed in the least. He’s actually looking at her like he’s been waiting for this. His eyes drop to the gag in her hand for a long moment before sliding back to her face.

“I’m not the only one who forgot to clear their browsing history,” she says with a smirk.

“Who said I forgot?” he says, voice rough.

She grins and kicks the pink cushion out in front of her and hands the gag to him. His hand is steady when he takes it from her. She drops to her knees on the cushion, sitting back on her heels, her head tilted up to him. He studies her for a long moment before taking a couple steps and crouching down in front of her until they’re almost eye level.

He doesn’t ask her if she’s sure or anything stupid. Instead, he looks at her intently and says, “You’ll tap my thigh if you want to stop at any time. Understand?”

“Yes,” she says.

“And we’re going to talk about this later.”

She rolls her eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Obviously.”

Bucky shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “Always a brat,” he says. “Open.”

She does as he says, opening her mouth. He places the silicone ring gag behind her teeth, forcing her mouth open, and straps it into place in a practiced way that tells her he’s definitely done this before, and that sends a little thrill through her. She’s been excited since she’d left the tower, but that familiar thread of arousal has been building from the second he walked in the door.

Bucky stands, and Darcy slowly runs her hands up his legs, up his thighs, until she reaches his belt. Bucky threads a hand through her hair, holding her but not directing her, not yet. Darcy runs her hands over the definite bulge in his jeans, grinning at the sharp breath he takes. She’d been confident in her plan, but it’s different knowing for sure that he’s aroused because of this.

Darcy carefully unbuttons and unzips his pants and tugs them down to his mid thighs, leaving him in black boxer briefs. She palms his erection through the fabric, cunt getting even wetter when his hand tightens in her hair. He watches her pull the boxer briefs down to join his pants, and fuck, she’d love to wrap her lips around his cock.

But that’s not what tonight’s about. She’d felt a bit silly in gags in the past, especially ring gags, but it’s hard to feel anything other than sexy when he’s looking at her like that, eyes dark and lips slightly parted while she slowly strokes his uncut cock. Now that she sees how thick he is, she’s glad she picked the larger of the ring gags in her closet.

Bucky tightens his grip in her hair, startling a whimper from her as she squeezes her thighs together. She’s sure he notices, but he doesn’t say anything about it, just pulls her head back until she’s peering up at him. He takes his thick cock in hand and feeds it through the ring gag in her mouth until it sits heavy on her tongue, then farther, eyes intent on her to see how much she can take.

She can take all of it. She watches his eyes widen as she relaxes her throat, his entire cock fitting in her mouth and down her throat. He holds her there for a moment like he can’t believe it, then he’s pulling her back by the hair until just the tip is on her tongue. He starts a slow rhythm, slow enough that she can press her tongue against his cock on every deep thrust.

He watches with rapt attention, eyes on where his cock disappears between her lips. She can’t wait to blow him for real, when she can use her lips and mouth and hands and suck him down until he’s cursing, but tonight’s about this, and she is definitely enjoying this as well, especially when he watches her like that.

Bucky speeds up, spurred on by her moans and how eager she is for this. She’s been thinking about this since she’d seen what he’d been looking at, but it’s even better than she’d imagined. He fucks her mouth as hard and fast as the gag allows, his hand fisted tight in her curls, and god, she really wishes she had something to grind against because this is so doing it for her, her cunt wet and achy.

A low moan escapes Bucky, his cock jerking on her tongue, and she knows he's close. He loosens his grip on her hair to give her room to pull away if she wants.

"Doll, I'm—"

She digs her fingertips into his thighs, taking his cock deeper into her throat. She's not interested in pulling away, and he groans as soon as he realizes it, hand tightening in her hair again.

He's even quicker now, desperately fucking into her mouth, one hand cradling her jaw, thumb brushing the gag. He's staring at her like this is a dream, and that certainly does things for her ego.

Bucky gasps her name as he comes, cock twitching in her mouth as she swallows. He's dropped his grip on her hair and now has his hand resting on the back of her head, like he doesn't want to force her in place.

She pulls back slowly when he's finished, a line of saliva connecting the gag and his softening cock. Bucky kneels in front of her, using the bottom of his shirt to dab it away, then reaches behind her head, unclasping the gag and carefully removing it. He drops it to the side and brings his hands to her face, fingers gently massaging the hinge of her jaw. She hums in appreciation, nuzzling into the touch.

As much as she loves this, and she does, she's still extremely turned on, and squirms where she's kneeling, trying to get pressure against her hard little clit.

Bucky notices, because Bucky notices everything, and his smile turns wicked. He stands and offers her a hand, helping her to her feet. His hands are on her the second she steps into him, wandering up and down her sides.

"Lie down on the chaise," he says.

She scrambles to obey, because yes.

Chapter Text

Darcy’s biting her lip as she works the toy inside her. It’s thick, wider than a soda can, and so far only the tip is inside her. One of her favorite sex toy brands had made a limited edition green Hulk-themed dildo, and she’d needed it.

It’s a step up from her thickest toy, but that’s the appeal. She loves the stretch, loves stuffing her cunt full and coming while she’s spread wide. Jane had teased her about being a size queen, but Jane also loves to watch, so Darcy isn’t offended.

It’s just Darcy now though, working the thick green toy into herself. She’s up to a few inches, and the stretch is exquisite. The dildo is covered in lube and she’s moving slowly and carefully, because while she likes a bit of pain, she’s not interested in actually injuring herself.

She circles her hard little clit with her fingers while she adjusts to the toy’s size. Half of it’s inside her now, and the more she plays with herself, the easier it is to slide even more of it in. She speeds up the pressure on her clit, chasing her orgasm, and she just knows it’s going to feel incredible when she’s this full.

Darcy moans loudly when she comes, her cunt clenching around the toy inside her. She doesn’t stop, pressing against her clit until she can absolutely take no more and goes limp, breathing harshly.

It’s now that she’s relaxed and boneless from her orgasm that she can work the dildo even deeper, inner muscles spasming weakly around the intrusion. She finally gets it completely sheathed inside her, only the wide silicone base sticking out of her stretched cunt.

Darcy clenches experimentally around the toy as much as she can while she’s forced open this wide. The arousal that was temporarily sated with her orgasm comes rushing back as her cunt struggles around the toy. She traces her fingers around her opening, skin taut and at its limit.

It feels so fucking good that she almost doesn’t want to play with herself again, tempted to just keep herself stuffed full as long as she can bear it, then slip four fingers into herself and feel her poor abused cunt struggle to close around them, slack and utterly used.

Arousal wins though, and Darcy slowly starts fucking herself with the dildo, unable to stop the small wounded noises slipping from her lips. It makes an obscene squelching sound as it moves within her, and that just drives her on until she’s fucking herself faster, hips rocking with her movements.

The toy is thick enough and the angle is perfect for it to bump her g-spot on every thrust. She drops her free hand between her thighs, fluttering her finger against the side of her clit, and that’s all she can take.

Her orgasm slams through her, stronger than her first, yanking a ragged gasp from her. She shoves the dildo in as deep as she can and keeps it there while she comes, her swollen and abused cunt fluttering weakly around the toy. She doesn’t move for a while, enjoying the little aftershocks of pleasure shooting through her.

It’s only when she feels completely spent that she slowly pulls the thick dildo from her slack cunt, a trail of lube and her own wetness dripping out of her. She slips two fingers between the swollen lips of her cunt, nearly moaning at how loose she is. She can barely feel it when she tries to clench down on her fingers, too weak and utterly stretched out from the toy and her orgasms.

“Fuuuck,” she moans, not withdrawing her fingers quite yet.

She should take a picture and send it to Jane. That’d probably get her out of the lab quickly.

Chapter Text

Darcy isn’t surprised when Clint seeks her out. She’d figured that since Brock and Bucky both know she’s been to the Obsidian that it’s only a matter of time before Clint and Natasha figure it out. And Clint is an upfront type.

He finds her in her favorite coffee shop a couple blocks from the tower. It’s lunchtime and busy, and Darcy’s at a small table tucked into the corner. One minute she’s alone and the next, Clint is sitting on the chair across from her. She doesn’t jump, but only barely.

“You were so close to getting hot coffee thrown at you,” she says.

Clint shrugs. “I can duck,” he says. “Are you going to the Obsidian this Sunday?”

Darcy narrows her eyes, trying to remember what event is Sunday. “I’m not sure. Why?”

“It’s a shibari night, and I’m hoping you’ll be my model,” he says, and that throws her a bit.

She hums, thinking it over. That’s not something she has practical experience in, though she’s observed a few times at the Obsidian. It doesn’t surprise her that Clint’s into shibari now that she thinks about it.

“I’ve never done any rope play before,” Darcy warns. “Like, at all.”

“That’s fine,” Clint says. “I don’t have to do something overly constricting, and if you hate it, we can stop.”

Darcy considers it for a moment. She’s been curious, but it’s never really been a priority for her. And it’s Clint. She trusts the hell out of Clint.

“Okay,” she says. “I don’t promise to be good at it.”

“I do promise to be good at it,” Clint says.

Clint is absolutely good at it.

Darcy had been a bit apprehensive when he’d led her to the stage, but that evaporated quickly. Clint had removed her wrap dress, leaving her in absolutely nothing other than her black panties, and from the look on his face, he’d been very appreciative.

Darcy’s standing with her back to the crowd as Clint wraps his purple rope around her. He’s narrating what he’s doing to those watching, walking them through the star harness he’s wrapping her in. He says it’s modified to tie her arms behind her as well, and she’s just going to trust him on that because she wouldn’t know modified or not either way.

The rope makes an upside down star on her upper chest, her breasts framed and displayed by the ropes beneath and twisting between them. Her arms are tied behind her back, one on top of the other, parallel to the floor. Her breathing is slow and steady as his hands move over her, placing and adjusting rope against her skin.

She’d been surprised at how soft the rope was when Clint first wrapped it around her wrists. She’d somewhat expected to feel uncomfortably confined in itchy rope, that it was something she would do for Clint but wouldn’t particularly enjoy, but she feels surprisingly calm under his care.

It’s clear he knows what he’s doing, strong and capable hands moving confidently over her body. His fingers move between the rope and her skin, testing if they’re too tight and showing the audience what to look for. Every time his fingers brush her breasts, she wants to arch into the touch, wants to beg him to touch her more, but she doesn’t. This is his show, so to speak.

He’s good at working her up, her cunt warm and tingly between her thighs, but she’s also feeling surprisingly relaxed. She feels...almost cradled. It’s similar to the warm, calm place she goes when she’s being flogged. It makes her wonder what he could do with her lower body if he had more rope and more time.

“Almost done,” Clint murmurs in her ear before speaking to the audience, telling them exactly what he’s doing as he finishes the tie. He touches her back as he points out different parts of the harness, and she’s not foolish enough to think he doesn’t notice her shiver.

“Gonna turn you around,” he says softly, and she follows his instructions, turning back to face the audience. She can see Brittany and Alexis in her peripheral vision, doing a demonstration on the other end of the stage. Appreciative eyes rove over her, tracing the curves of her body and the intricacies of the rope.

Clint stands next to her, fingers moving over the rope on her chest, and she so desperately wants him to touch her hard nipples, to touch her with more than just some brushes against her skin. She hears him tell the crowd this is what the finished harness will look like if done correctly, then he’s leaning toward her, lips brushing her ear.

“Do you want me to make you come now?” he asks, hand heavy on her hip. “Or do you want to go somewhere private?”

They’d discussed this too. Before they’d started, she said she was happy for him to make her come on stage, but he’d wanted her to check in with her when they get there. Her answer is still the same. It’s actually even more emphatic.

“Now,” she says, voice rough. “Please, Clint…”

Clint grins and kisses her deeply before walking behind her. He wraps one arm around her middle, right under the harness, and trails his other hand down her belly and down the front of her panties. He hums when he finds her soaked, his calloused finger circling her hard, aching clit. He presses a soft kiss against her throat as he slips two fingers up inside her, smiling against her skin when it makes her whine.

She’s shockingly close already, thanks to how he’s been touching her all night. The hand around her torso moves up, massaging her breast. She whimpers when he rolls his thumb over her nipple, legs feeling weak, but she knows he’ll never let her fall. His thumb moves against her clit as he fucks her with his fingers, and she’s nearly there, tension coiled tight in her body.

Clint gently pinches her nipple between his fingers, and that’s all she needs before she’s coming, thighs tight around his wrist as she shakes through her orgasm. Clint holds her up easily with his arm around her middle, whispering soft encouragements in her ear as she clenches around his fingers.

He only withdraws his fingers when he’s sure she can stand on her own. He takes her to the back corner of the stage and away from the eyes of others, leading her to a covered chaise and helping her sit down. He sits next to her, wrapping an arm around her. She hums and leans against him, head on his shoulder.

“Ready for me to take it off? Clint asks, fingers tracing the rope around her arm.

“Not...not yet.”

Chapter Text

Brock’s been out of the country for a couple weeks, only able to talk to Darcy on the phone and occasionally through video chat. They’d known he’d be coming back sometime this week, but he hadn’t known when until right before he was flown back, no time to text her.

Brock silently slips into her apartment, locking the door behind him. He leaves his bag by the front door and slips off his shoes and jacket, sneaking on silent feet down the hall.

He opens her door slowly, not wanting to wake her quite yet. She’s a heavy sleeper and doesn’t hear him enter the room or close the door behind him. She doesn’t feel him slowly pull the blanket down her body, leaving her in just the baggy shirt she’s using as a nightie. She doesn’t feel him carefully part her legs or the bed dip as he lies down between her thighs.

She’s given him blanket permission to do this, has asked for it more than once, and he’s more than happy to oblige. She’s not wearing panties, maybe hoping this would happen when he gets back, though not knowing the exact day.

There’s an art to doing this to her. Too quickly and she’ll wake up much sooner than he wants. The goal is to work her up to it, having her wet and on the edge of coming right when she opens her eyes.

Brock traces his finger up and down her labia, already a bit wet. He wonders if she was playing with herself tonight. If she left him her cunt all primed and ready for him. He carefully spreads her folds, and she does look deliciously flushed and swollen, like she’d been fucking herself on her fingers. He presses the softest of kisses over her clit, smiling as her thigh twitches next to his cheek.

He carefully, very softly moves his tongue against the side of her clit, giving her just the barest of sensation to start. She’s always so responsive, clit already hardening under his tongue. He traces a finger around her opening, grinning against her when he feels her starting to get wet. He won’t try to slide a finger into her, not yet, but he keeps touching her there, fingertip just inside her.

Darcy shifts above him, a soft noise escaping her as he moves his tongue just a bit harder against her clit. She’s breathing just a bit harder, her hand coming up to her breast. She’s wetter now against his finger, and he gently moves it deeper into her, just to the first knuckle. She whimpers, cunt clenching just a bit around his finger.

He’s able to move against her a bit harder and quicker now that she’s used to him touching her, now that she won’t startle awake at his tongue between her folds. He rolls his tongue gently against her clit, a slow, easy motion that will build pleasure inside her gently enough that she won’t wake.

Darcy whimpers, starting to rock against his face in her sleep, the finger at her entrance sliding even deeper into her. She’s dripping wet now, clit hard against his tongue. He gently presses up against her g-spot, tongue moving quicker against her clit.

He can feel it the second she wakes, cunt tightening around his finger as she moans. Her thighs tense on either side of his face, her hand tangling in his hair. He hums against her, tongue fluttering against her clit as he slides another finger into her, curling up to massage her g-spot.

“Babe,” she moans, voice thick with sleep and need. “Please…”

Brock closes his lips around her clit and sucks, careful not to be too rough. Darcy lets out a gasping cry as she comes against him, cunt clenching around his fingers, thighs closing tight over his ears.

He doesn’t let up, moving against and within her until her legs go limp on either side of him. He presses one last kiss over her clit before crawling up her body.

“Hi,” she says, grinning up at him.

“Hey, princess,” he says, leaning down to kiss her.

Chapter Text

Wanda is a kinky little fucker, and Darcy is thrilled to learn that firsthand. One of Wanda’s favorite things now that she has such fine-tuned control of her abilities is to play with Darcy without actually touching her. Without Darcy even being undressed.

For instance, right this moment. Darcy is reading on one end of the huge sectional—the same sectional she, Bucky, and Clint defiled a few days ago—while Wanda chats with Bucky and Steve on the other end. Well, Darcy is technically pretending to read, because all her focus is on not making a sound.

If she looks closely, she can see red around Wanda’s subtly moving fingertips, and if Darcy were topless, she’d see the red energy swirling around her breasts. As soon as Wanda learned she could stimulate her under her clothes without anyone being the wiser, well, Darcy is permanently wet if Wanda is anywhere near her.

Her nipples are always sensitive, and she fucking loves them being played with. And she doesn’t need it to be overly gentle. Wanda knows that, and she’s shameless about using it to her advantage.

Darcy’s eyes are on the page, but she isn’t taking in any of the words. It’s like her nipples are surrounded by a warm energy current, tingling almost like when Thor’s fucking her all lightninged up, but softer. It swirls around them, applying pressure then backing off, pinching gently then caressing, twisting then laving over them.

She nearly moans when it feels as if someone’s mouth is sucking hard on her nipples, and that’s new. It’s like they’re in one of the nipple suction toys in her bedside table, but a thousand times better, like a mouth is actively sucking on each tit. She hadn’t known Wanda could do that.

She’s sure her face is red when she glances up at Wanda, who isn’t looking at her but does have a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. Steve glances over at her, but she can’t read his expression. She drops her eyes back to the page right as Wanda rolls her magic over both nipples, like fingers rolling over them.

“You all right, Darcy?” Steve asks.

“Mmhmm.” Darcy nods, not looking up.

“You sure?” Bucky asks, and she can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.

“Ye—EP!” Darcy says, voice squeaking at the end of the word because Wanda has just surrounded her clit with energy.

It’s warm and pulsing between her thighs, massaging where she’s already wet and desperate. This is even better than a vibrator; pleasure is yanked to the surface everywhere Wanda’s energy touches her, her cunt aching with need.

Darcy glances up to see Wanda watching her intently, hand raised and surrounded by red. She's not bothering to hide it anymore, and Bucky and Steve instantly understand. Bucky leans back, hand dropping to his lap next to the growing bulge in his jeans. Steve leans forward, elbows on his knees, watching her intently.

It pulses warmer between her legs, labia and clit surrounded by a tingling, nearly vibrating energy. Darcy gives up on subtle, eyes fluttering shut as she moans at a particularly hard pinch at her nipples that makes her back arch. Then it gets stronger, feeling like there's a mouth at her nipples again and now at her clit, sucking and tingling and wrenching her orgasm from her.

Darcy doesn't manage to bite back the whimper as she comes, shuddering as her orgasm flows through her, Wanda slowing the pressure against her but not stopping. She's still getting little aftershocks of pleasure jolting through her when she opens her eyes, seeing Bucky kneeling between Wanda's legs, his face buried between her thighs. Wanda grins at her, the last remaining energy lifting from Darcy’s body, and a second later, Bucky groans into Wanda's cunt, so Darcy has an idea what Wanda is up to.

Steve is still watching her, the bulge in his pants undeniable, his eyes dark. Darcy grins and reaches out for him.

Chapter Text

Brock setting up a sybian at the Obsidian is admittedly not the first thing Darcy was expecting to see tonight. She hasn’t seen him for a few months, and Steve had mentioned Brock and his team were on a long-term mission. She hadn’t realized he’s back, but they’re not exactly texting buddies, so why would she?

The club isn’t overly crowded yet, not this early on a Wednesday, so she doesn’t have to work her way through a crowd to get over to him. She’s wearing an emerald green lace balconette bra with matching panties and a garter belt holding up black stockings. She’s in her sparkly heels again. It’s been a long week already and she needs to feel sexy tonight. Brock watches her walk up, and with the look on his face, she feels exactly that.

“Nice to see you,” she says when she reaches him.

He’s set the sybian up in the middle of a group of armchairs, like a parody of a coffee table. A few people are milling about, curious eyes lingering. She recognizes some of them from when he’d fucked her in front of a crowd a few months ago.

“You too,” he says, eyes raking over her. “I was hoping you’d be here.”

“Yeah?” she says, grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “Why’s that?”

Brock steps closer and she lets him, taking a step into his space. His strong, calloused hands rest on her hips, fingers tracing the waistband of her panties. She sets one hand on his chest, fingers drawing circles on his chest, the other on his ribs.

“Lots of reasons,” he says. “But mostly I wanted to watch you ride this until it forces you to come.”

Darcy curls her fingers against him and drags her stockinged calf against his leg. “Mmm, and here I’d been hoping to suck your cock,” she says, grinning when his hands jerk on her hips.

“I think we can manage both,” he says, fingers trailing up her sides, though he seems reluctant to let go of her.

There are a few people sitting in the armchairs around them, including her friends Brittany and Alexis. She sends a wink their way when Brock takes her hand, walking her over to the sybian. She steps out of her heels, suddenly much shorter than him, which makes him smirk.

“You hush,” she says before he can say anything, making him laugh. He’s about to help her onto the sybian, when she pauses, letting go of his hand. “Wait a sec,” she says and drops her hands to her panties, giving him a bit of a show as she pulls them down her thighs. She knows she could keep them on and not sacrifice any pleasure, but she doesn’t like the idea of walking around in wet panties for the rest of the night.

“Christ, princess,” he mutters under his breath.

Darcy smirks and hands the panties to him. “Hold these for me?”

He takes them from her, slipping them in his pocket before yanking her to him, hand on her jaw as he kisses the hell out of her. She’s breathless when he pulls away, cunt already a little wet. He offers her his hand again, and she takes it as she steps over the sybian and slowly lowers herself until she’s straddling it, cunt pressed against the smooth, nearly flat silicone surface attachment. There’s a ridge almost halfway down, perfect for her to grind against. She’s been waiting for the opportunity to try one of these, and she’s so damn excited.

Brock crouches down in front of her and hits the on switch, and the sybian hums to life between her thighs. She jumps and lets out a surprised gasp, reaching out and grasping his arm. Even on low, it’s stronger than she’d expected.

Brock’s watching her with heated eyes as she shifts on the sybian, testing what feels best. The strong vibrations rock through her entire lower body, from her clit back to her ass, and it’s a wholly consuming feeling she’s never experienced. She fucking loves it.

“Stand up,” she says, her voice already shaky.

Brock leans forward and kisses her again, turning up the sybian’s speed at the same time. Darcy moans into his mouth, tightening her grasp on his arm for balance. He pulls back and presses a kiss to her nose before standing in front of her. She undoes the button and zipper of his jeans with shaky hands, pulling them down his hips, his navy blue boxer briefs joining them around his thighs a moment later.

Brock’s cock is already hard, curving up against his stomach. He pulls his shirt up a bit and out of the way. Darcy remembers just how good he is with his mouth, and she’s determined to make this good, despite the very big distraction between her thighs.

Darcy leans in, licking up his thick cock, swirling her tongue around the tip before slowly taking him into her mouth. Brock groans, bringing a hand up to fist in her hair. This is something she likes and knows she’s good at, and she’s going to give it everything she has.

She drags her tongue along the length of his cock as she bobs her head, moaning around him at the pull on her hair in his hand. Brock hisses her name when she takes him as far back in her throat as she can, her nose pressed against his body. His hand tightens even more in her hair, and she admires his self restraint for not fucking her mouth, but she can tell he wants to, hips rocking just a bit as she sucks him down.

Brock nudges his foot against the sybian’s dial and the speed ratchets up. She cries out around his cock, rocking against the ridge on the sybian’s attachment. Her legs are starting to tremble as the vibrations rock through her. She takes him as deep in her throat as she can, swallowing around him. Brock swears, hand painfully tight in her hair, and really that’s just making it harder for her to hold herself together.

She speeds up, sucking harder at him as waves of pleasure start building up. She’s so close to the edge, whimpers escaping her around him, then he’s swearing, cock jerking as he comes down her throat.

She can’t hold back any longer, her orgasm rushing through her. She closes her eyes as she shakes apart, feeling like the pleasure is being ripped from her body. It’s fucking intense and dangerously close to being too much, but then the vibrations are slowing back to the low setting. She opens her eyes to find Brock kneeling in front of her, his hand on the dial. She whimpers, reaching out to him, and he doesn’t need to be told twice, cradling her jaw and kissing her as the tail end of her orgasm zings through her.

“Okay, I—I’m—”

He doesn’t need her to finish, reaching down and turning the sybian off. She’s still trembling, a bit more overwhelmed than she thought she’d be. He presses soft kisses to her lips and cheek and forehead while she gets her breath back, then takes her hands, helping her to stand on weak legs.

Alexis leans over, handing Darcy a handful of the soft paper towels scattered throughout the club in fancy boxes for cleanup, and offers up her armchair. Darcy takes it gratefully, covering it with one of the sheets provided before sitting on the edge of the chair to clean up. Brock, with his pants pulled back up, though unbuttoned, kneels down, cleaning the sybian.

“I can do that, you don’t have to,” Darcy says.

Brock pffts and rolls his eyes, going back to cleaning the sybian, and well, she’s not going to argue. She leans over and plucks her panties that are sticking out of his pocket, pulling them back on, sticking her tongue out when he pouts.

He comes over when he’s done, another couple coming forward to use the sybian. “Want some water?” he says, offering her a hand.

She takes it. “God yes,” she says as he pulls her to her feet.

Chapter Text

Bucky calls right when Darcy’s finished filling her bathtub with hot water and her favorite honey vanilla bubblebath. He’s been gone for a week, and neither of them ever have any idea when he’s going to be able to call, so Darcy walks around with her phone a lot closer at hand than usual. And it comes in handy.

“Hey, babe,” she says, putting the phone on speaker and setting it on the little table next to her bathtub.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says, voice warm. “Glad I caught you.”

“You have excellent timing. I’m just getting in the bath,” she says, sighing as she sinks into the hot water.

“Oh?” he says, a note of something darker creeping into his voice.

“Yeah,” she says, grinning. “It’s not the same as with you, but I guess it’s the next best thing.”

“I would much rather be taking a bath with you,” Bucky says. “A warm naked Darcy is much better than a unwashed grumpy Steve.”

Darcy laughs. “I mean, I’d hope so,” she says. “Unless Steve also does that thing with his tongue—”

“Absolutely not, bleh,” Bucky says. “Did you hear the unwashed part?”

Darcy laughs again. “Is he nearby? Or are you alone?”

“I’m alone,” he says. “We’re at a hotel tonight, thank god.”

“Alone, huh?” Darcy says, humming as she sinks lower into the water, the bubbles up to her neck. She brings a hand to her chest, lazily circling a nipple.

Bucky understands immediately, voice dropping. “For the foreseeable future,” he confirms. “Are you going to touch yourself for me, sweetheart?”

“Thinking about it,” she says, bringing her second hand to her chest, letting out a breathy noise when she rolls her fingers over her nipples. “Not the same as you touching me, but still good.”

“Tell me what you’re doing,” he says, voice even lower.

“Playing with my nipples,” she says, pinching them between her thumbs and forefingers. She lets out a soft sigh at the zing of pleasure it sends between her thighs. “Wishing it were your mouth.”

“Soon, sweetheart,” Bucky says. “How does it feel?”

“It’s so good,” she says with a satisfied sigh. “Making me wet.”

“Touch between you legs for me,” he says. “Circle your clit. Start slow.”

Darcy does what he says, tracing wide circles around her clit. It’s slowly getting harder as her excitement grows; she’s always so easy for Bucky, and she’s not at all ashamed of that. She’s getting wetter and is fighting the urge to slide her fingers into herself. She wants to wait for Bucky’s lead on that.

Darcy hums happily, rolling her thumb over her nipple with one hand, drawing lazy circles around her clit with the other. “Bucky,” she sighs.

“Tell me,” he says, and she can hear shifting on his end of the line.

“I need more. Please, let me,” she says.

“What do you need?” he asks.

“Let me touch my clit,” she says. “Please, Bucky…”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Bucky says. “Touch your pretty little clit. Let me hear you.”

Darcy’s never exactly been quiet, and Bucky loves that about her. She lets out a moan as she slowly moves her finger against her clit, spurred on by the sharp intake she hears from him. She doesn’t hold back, letting out small whimpers and gasps as she plays with herself, adjusting when Bucky tells her to speed up or slow down, until he finally tells her to finger herself.

“Yes,” she hisses as she slowly slides two fingers into herself.

She’s wet and ready, her cunt aching for this since nearly the beginning of her and Bucky’s call. She curls her fingers inside herself, brushing her g-spot. It’s not as easy for her and her short fingers as it is for Bucky, but she manages, thumb pressing against her clit at the same time.

“You sound so fucking good, doll,” he says, voice tight, and she can hear his hand on his cock in the background. “Can’t wait until I’m back. Been dreaming about my mouth between your legs. And being inside you. Nothing can fucking compare.”

“Bucky,” she whimpers, fucking herself faster. “I’m so close, fuck.”

“Let me hear you,” he says, and she can hear him speeding up.

Darcy’s legs are tensing, the tension coiling tighter deep inside her. Bucky’s breath is heavy as he lets out little grunts and moans that are so familiar to her. She grinds her clit against the heel of her hand, rocking her hips as she chases her orgasm.

Darcy comes with a cry, water splashing as her jerks her legs closed around her hand. Bucky swears just a moment later, breathing harshly on the line.

They’re both quiet for a long moment, Darcy catching her breath and luxuriating in the boneless warmth after her orgasm.

Eventually, Darcy clears her throat and asks, “Any idea when you’ll be back?”

“As soon as fucking possible.”

Chapter Text

This time, Darcy approaches Clint. He’s watching a football game in one of the common areas, and she takes a seat next to him. He smiles and greets her, but she waits until a commercial to ask, “Are you busy Friday night?”

Clint thinks for a moment before shaking his head. “Nope. Why?”

Darcy pulls out her phone and hands it over. Clint takes it and stares for a moment, and she can’t read any reaction on his face until he looks up at her, eyes heated.

“Is this something you want to try?” he asks, voice just a tad bit lower than usual.

“Yeah,” she says. “Specifically with you.”

Clint hands her phone back, not taking his eyes off her. “I would love that,” he says.

Darcy grins.

They arrive at the Obsidian together again. She’d booked one of the private rooms again, not wanting to take the chance that an anchor point wouldn’t be available. Janine is the bouncer behind the black curtain again, sending them to room six.

Room six is one of the private rooms that has a bunch of different anchor points and is set up for suspension. While she’s thinking of asking Clint about trying that, that’s not what they’re here for tonight.

Clint picks an anchor point in the ceiling near the wall so she can lean on the wall if she needs to. He takes the tote bag from Darcy that’s holding his bright purple rope and her new anal hook, removing the contents and setting them on a deep bench lining one of the walls.

Satisfied, he turns to Darcy, who’s just removed and hung her coat from a hook near the door. She steps into his space, grinning when he tugs her closer, hands on her hips. Darcy drapes her arms over his shoulders as he pulls her in for a kiss that leaves her breathless.

“Tell me your safeword,” he says, lips brushing hers.

“Cloud,” she says. He already knows this. They had a long discussion hammering out the details, but she respects him checking.

“Good,” he says. He takes the hem of her short blue dress between his fingers, pulling it up and over her head, dragging the palms of his hands over as much skin as possible. “Shit,” he mutters when he sees the purple bra and panties set she’s wearing underneath, almost the exact same color as his rope. She’d seen it last weekend and couldn’t resist.

Clint presses kisses down her throat as his hands trace over the bra, humming when his thumbs pass over her nipples, making her moan into his mouth. She’s already tingling a bit between the thighs, excitement coursing through her.

“As much as I love this—and I do, sweetheart—I’m gonna have you bare for this,” Clint says, fingers slipping under the back over her bra.

“I know. You can fuck me in it some other time,” she says.

“I look forward to it,” Clint says. He unclasps her bra with a flick of the fingers, drawing it down her arms. “Jesus, you’re fucking perfect,” he says, hands cupping her breasts. She whimpers as his calloused fingers play her nipples, the sensation going straight to her cunt. “I thought I had to be misremembering, but no.”

Reluctantly, Clint drags his hands down her sides, thumbs hooking in the waistband of her panties and slowly pulling them down her legs, kneeling as he does so. He presses a kiss to her mound before tapping her ankles, encouraging her to step out of the panties around her ankles.

“Shoes on or off?” she asks, tapping the toe of one of her sparkly heels.

“They look lovely on you,” he says, wrapping a hand around her ankle and running it slowly up her calf. “How likely are you to twist an ankle?”

“Good point,” she says, bracing herself on Clint’s shoulder and stepping out of the heels.

Clint stands with her shoes, setting them and her lingerie on the bench next to the tote bag. When he comes back, he has the purple rope in his hands. She doesn’t bother to hide her excitement, making him grin.

“I do think you’re going to love this, sweetheart,” Clint says. “Give me your wrists.”

Darcy holds out her arms to him, insides of her wrists facing each other. Clint wraps the rope around her wrists in a series of loops and knots that she already can’t keep track of. He has her move her hands and wrists, making sure there’s no pain or pinching, then backs her up against the wall. He raises her hands up above her head, attaching the rope to the anchor point in the ceiling, leaving enough slack that she isn’t straining.

Darcy’s heart is already racing in excitement, her cunt slick between her thighs. Clint retrieves the bottle of lube from the tote and comes back, kneeling in front of her. Before she can say anything, he draws one of her thighs over his shoulder and buries his face in her cunt. Darcy gasps, back arching off the wall.

It feels strange to be balanced on one leg, the rope helping her stay up, but it’s fucking good. Clint’s mouth is as incredible as she’d imagined, and she’s imagined quite a bit. There’s a click of a cap, then his lube-slicked finger is circling the pucker of her asshole.

She relaxes as best she can, whimpering as his finger slides into her. She’s a big fan of anal play, and it doesn’t take long before he can slowly press another finger in alongside the first, slowly spreading them inside her.

He moves his tongue slowly against her clit, just enough to work her up. She tries to rock against his face but he presses her back against the wall with his free hand on her lower belly. She whines his name when he spears his tongue up inside her, desperate for more. But then he’s pulling his fingers from her, pressing a kiss to her clit, and standing.

Clint takes her by the hips and turns her until she’s facing the wall, breasts pressed against the cool drywall. She hears the click of the lube cap again but doesn’t look over her shoulder.

She jerks in surprise when he touches her back, but he just laughs softly, dragging his hand from her shoulder blade down to her ass, squeezing her right cheek before smacking it. Darcy moans, cunt clenching around nothing. She’s weak for some impact play.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he says, hand on her hip. “Stick your ass back for me.”

She does as he says, pressing her chest harder against the wall, arching her back and going on tiptoes to give him the best angle. Clint spreads her ass wide, then the round, bulbous tip of the anal hook is pressing against her opening. Darcy takes a deep breath and bears down, rim stretching around the unforgiving sphere.

She’d bought the medium size, wanting to feel it, and she doesn’t regret it, letting out a long moan as it pops past that ring of muscle, her body swallowing up the tip.

“Good girl,” Clint says, hand on her hip. “You can relax now.”

Darcy goes back down off her toes, standing as normally as she can. The hook is just barely inside her, and Clint slowly moves it deeper, drawing the metal higher and higher against her butt until it’s nearly as deep as it can go, the metal curving out of her and pressed between her cheeks.

“Too much?” Clint asks. He’d told her depth depends on preference. And she’d told him she can take things deep.

“Perfect,” she says, voice shaking.

Clint has more rope tied around the end of the hook that’s resting against her lower back, and he reaches up, tying it to the same anchor point that’s keeping her hands above her head. Darcy lets out a shuddering breath and she relaxes a bit, letting the rope take more of her weight, and the hook slides just a bit deeper into her.

“Fuck,” she moans, clenching down around the metal.

“You look incredible,” Clint says, his voice rougher than usual. His hands drag down her back, from shoulder blades to her ass. He slaps her ass again on the same side, making her clench down around the hook.

“Fuck!” she cries out, cunt pulsing between her thighs.

Clint takes her by the hips and turns her again so that she’s facing him. He’d lost his shirt at some point when her back was turned, and his cock is clearly hard against the front of his pants. He unbuttons them, and her cunt clenches in excitement.

“Please,” she says, not caring that he can hear how desperate she sounds. She’s so fucking turned on and just needs to feel him. “Clint…”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Clint says, pulling his pants and boxers down his hips, freeing his hard cock. He’s got a curve that makes her sure this is going to feel great.

Clint closes the distance between them, slowly lifting one of her legs until it’s resting on his hip, his cock pressed against her cunt.

“How’s that feel?” Clint asks. “Anything pulling? Hook too tight?”

“No, perfect,” she breathes.

Clint had tied her hands to the anchor tighter than he’d tied the hook to the anchor, keeping the hook from inadvertently going too deep or hurting her, even if she were to hypothetically go limp.

She’s practically vibrating with excitement. This has been on her mind since she’d seen it in a scene a few weeks ago.

Clint grins like he can feel her enthusiasm and sets his cock at her opening, slowly sliding into her. Darcy moans, feeling so very full with the bulbous end of the hook and his cock both nestled inside her.

Clint wraps his arm around her thigh, helping her keep it raised, and rocks into her, hissing under his breath. She lets out a shaking breath, his curved cock dragging against her g-spot.

“I can feel it,” Clint says through gritted teeth, thrusting into her slowly, and it takes her a second to get that he means he can feel the hook against his cock through that thin wall of flesh inside her.

“Clint, please…” she says. She has no leverage, can’t fuck herself on him at all. She’s completely at his mercy.

Thankfully, Clint isn’t feeling particularly patient. He speeds up his long, deep thrusts, grinding against her clit. Darcy’s entire body feels like a livewire, electric jolts of pleasure zinging through her as she’s fucked by Clint, completely helpless with her arms tied above her. She fucking loves it.

She thinks Clint’s getting closer, his thrusts get shorter and sharper. He gets a hand between their bodies, fingers fluttering against the side of her clit. She only lasts another minute before she’s coming with a strangled cry, clenching down around the hook and Clint’s cock, her orgasm ripping through her.

Clint fucks her through it, dragging out the pleasure as he chases his own, hands tight on her. He fucks her for another thirty seconds before burying himself as deep as he can, cock flexing as he comes inside her. He rests his forehead against hers as they breathe harshly against each other, coming down together.

Clint kisses her softly and pulls away, softening cock slipping from her body. He murmurs praise as he unties the hook from the anchor, carefully pulling it from her body. Her arms are next, Clint lowering them in front of her and untying her wrists. He has her shake out her arms and make sure there isn’t any numbness, then walks her over to the bench against the other wall.

Darcy curls up in Clint’s lap, humming contentedly as he runs his fingers through her hair, his other hand rubbing up and down her arm. She feels hazy with pleasure and cuddles closer. Goddamn, what a good idea.

Chapter Text

Fucking Eddie Brock and his symbiote, Venom, hadn't exactly been the plan, but fuck, it was a good choice.

She’d met Eddie a year ago in New York when he was in town on a story that happened to be connected to her master’s thesis. She’d offered him some M&Ms, and that’s how she’d met Venom. Startled the living shit out of her, but they’d bonded over candy, so, that’s cool in her book.

She’s in San Francisco now for a Stark Industries kids in STEM event and had met Eddie for lunch, a tendril of Venom slithering under the table to her lap to be fed Reese’s Pieces.

The thing is, Venom had strayed a tad bit high and inside on her thigh when reaching for her hand, and she may have...reacted just a tiny bit? Nothing overly dramatic, but Venom had paused where he was before slowly withdrawing at the same time Eddie had tilted his head to the side in confusion. That confusion morphed to comprehension as he and Venom did their internal communication thing.

She had Eddie had looked at each other for a long moment before Eddie had cleared his throat and asked about her PhD classes. She’d jumped on the change of subject, but her mind had gone to a very not rated G place, and by the look on Eddie’s face and the way Venom had caressed from her wrist to her fingers when he took more candy, they were on a similar page.

A paid bill and a short walk later, she’s in Eddie’s bed, straddling his face. His hands are wrapped tightly around her thighs, pulling her down to his mouth. Eddie Brock’s tongue is a gift from god, and she’ll put that in writing. He figures out quickly just how to touch her, what pressure she likes, how to make her whimper and gasp.

She’d made it clear Venom is welcome, and he’d taken her at her word, black tendrils creeping up her hips, up her torso to circle her breasts, tips playing with her nipples like he’s been given a roadmap on how to turn her on. Just like Eddie, he learns quickly, figuring out exactly how to touch her and how hard, until the tendrils are wrapped around her nipples, pulsating and rolling her nipples.

“Fuck,” she groans, gripping tightly to Eddie’s headboard. This is the best decision she’s made in years.

Eddie rolls his tongue against her clit, and it’s so hard not to grind against his face, but she wants to savor this. He seems more than happy to eat her out, and she’s never going to rush anyone who’s as good at it as him.

She feels something trace up and down her labia, and at first she thinks it’s Eddie’s finger, but then she realizes his hands are still wrapped around her thighs. It’s Venom, she realizes, his touch tentative and slow, waiting for her reaction. Darcy whimpers, rocking back against him, and he doesn’t need more encouragement than that.

A thicker tendril slowly slides into her, and she can’t help clenching down, moaning as he moves inside her. It’s like he’s seen her deleted browser history, writhing inside her like the tentacles she may have fantasized about.

Venom moves in perfect coordination with Eddie, more warm tendrils crawling up her body, from her butt up her entire back, cradling her tightly and rocking her body against Eddie’s mouth. The tentacle in her finds her g-spot, and Darcy can’t help the ragged gasp, thighs starting to shake on either side of Eddie’s face.

They’re too good at this. They have to have done this before, either with someone else or just with each other. The thought of Venom and Eddie tangled and buried in each other is too fucking good, and she can’t be patient any longer. She clenches around the tentacle inside her and it starts to pulsate like the tendrils at her nipples, fucking up into her.

Eddie tightens his grip on her thighs, moving his tongue quicker against her clit. He moans against her, and the vibrations are really more than she can take. Her orgasm crests, pleasure flooding her body. Her whole body shakes as she clings to the headboard, body still rocking as Venom keeps fucking her through it, he and Eddie dragging out her pleasure until she’s a trembling and gasping mess.

Eddie slows as the aftershocks fade. He presses a kiss over her clit, making her thigh jerk next to his ear, and a second later Venom is withdrawing with an obscene squelching noise.

Venom draws her backward by the tendrils at her back, the ones around her nipples circling around her belly to hold her tightly, until she’s straddling Eddie’s torso instead of his face.

Eddie’s face is wet from her, and he looks incredibly pleased about that. He licks the taste of her off his lips, eyes heated, and yeah, she’s not nearly done with him. She glances over her shoulder to see Eddie’s cock, hard and red between his thighs. A tendril of Venom sneaks over her shoulder, crawling along her collarbone and down her chest.

“So,” she says, a wicked grin taking over her face as she looks back at Eddie. She scoots back just a tiny bit, Eddie’s hard cock brushing her ass. “You could probably both fuck me at once, huh?”

Eddie takes in a sharp breath, desire completely taking over his face, the hand that’s still on her thigh gripping her tightly. There’s a deep pleased noise from Venom that feels like it rumbles through her, and that sends a jolt of pleasure right to her clit.

“You sure?” Eddie asks, looking like he’s barely holding himself back.

“God yes.”

Chapter Text

There is no way Brock and Jack haven’t done this before. She’s sure there’s a whole routine where they approach a woman in a bar, Jack talking to her if they think she’s the type who loves a man with an accent, Brock taking the lead if she likes the cocky, confident type. Darcy’s sure it’s smooth and practiced and effective as hell, and she hadn’t needed anything of that.

Brock and Jack were part of her and Jane’s overqualified bodyguards once upon a time. She’d been surprised running into them at a Stark Industries event at a fancy hotel downtown, but they’d looked sexy as hell in their tuxes, she’d looked fine as fuck in her deep red dress, and she’d had a shot of tequila for courage.

It was Brock who’d spoken to her (does that make her the type to like cocky guys? Huh…) but she hadn’t let him get very far.

“I see Jack watching,” she’d said, waving over his shoulder to Jack, who’d waved back with a grin. “And I think I might know why.”

“Yeah?” Brock had said, grinning like he was amused rather than making fun of her. “What are you thinking, princess?”

“I’m thinking,” she’d said, stepping in closer and hoping like hell she wasn’t about to embarrass herself, “that I’d love to find out what it feels like to be between the two of you.”

He hadn’t laughed. Brock had plucked the nearly full drink from her hands and placed it on the tray of a passing server, then took her hand in his, pulling her toward where Jack had been leaning against a table of his own. They’d been upstairs in the room Jack had booked just a few minutes later.

There is no way they haven’t done this before. It’s Jack that pulls her in for a kiss as soon as the door closes behind them, large hands framing her face. She hears the locks on the door, then Brock’s hands are on her waist, his mouth on her neck. She whimpers into Jack’s mouth, tilting her head to give Brock more access.

Brock’s hands slide up her sides, right hand drifting to the middle of her back, taking the zipper between his fingers and slowly drawing it down, pressing his lips to every inch of inch that’s revealed. Not interested in just being a passive participant, she reaches up, working Jack’s bowtie loose before working on his shirt buttons.

She barely notices they’re moving her toward the large bed until she’s breaking the kiss to pull Jack’s shirt off him. He lets her toss it to the side, then Rumlow’s letting her dress fall, the red velvet pooling at her feet.

“Jesus,” Jack says, hands trailing up her ribs, his thumbs brushing the band of her bra.

Brock hums in agreement, pressing a nipping kiss right under her jaw. It makes her go a bit weak in the knees, grateful for their hands on her.

They’re efficient, getting all three of them undressed quickly. She ends up on the bed on her knees, straddling Jack’s face. He’s fucking good, tongue rolling against her clit, a finger slowly sliding into her. Brock’s on his knees in front of her, completely naked, cock hard between his legs. He kisses her deeply, seeming to enjoy her whimpering into his mouth, before kissing down her chest, licking over a sensitive nipple, his fingers brushing over the other.

“Harder,” she gasps, fingers tangling in his hair. Brock hums against her, pinching her nipple harder between his fingers, carefully dragging his teeth over the other. Darcy mewls, clinging to Brock’s shoulders. “God, yes.”

They’re good at this, moving perfectly together like they know what the other is doing. She’s had threesomes before, but she’s never been this worked up this quickly. Jack has two fingers moving inside her, his lips wrapped around her clit. It’s like Brock’s hands and mouth on her breasts are sending a direct line of pleasure to her clit. She’s fighting not to rock on Jack’s face, though she has a feeling he might not mind.

“Move—move back,” Darcy gasps, tugging at Brock’s hair. He sucks one last mark into the side of her breast before surfacing rather reluctantly. She kisses him before gently pushing him back until he’s kneeling farther up the bed.

Jack seems to know exactly what she has in mind, not bothered in the least as she leans forward, going to her hands and knees in front of Brock’s thick cock. He’s ridiculously fucking attractive, they both are, and she takes a moment to look appreciatively before leaning in, licking a line up his hard red cock.

Brock swears, tangling a hand in her hair. She grins, then swallows him down, taking him as far back into her throat as she can. He curses again, looking down at her with dark eyes, his bottom lip between his teeth. It’s difficult to focus with Jack’s tongue between her thighs, but she manages, moaning and whimpering around Brock’s cock when Jack finds a particularly good angle.

“Gonna come for us, princess?” Brock asks as if he knows she's close.

He pulls her off his cock, and she can only gasp, thighs starting to tremble on either side of Jack’s face. He curls his fingers right against her g-spot, tongue rolling against her clit.

She’s right on the edge, pleasure rising inside her, when Brock pulls her hair harder, and that’s all it takes before her orgasm washes over her. Darcy lets out a ragged gasp, nails digging into Brock’s thigh as the waves rush through her, though from his moan, he doesn’t seem to mind.

She’s still trying to catch her breath when Jack lifts her up a bit, sliding out from under her. She feels him at her back a moment later, hands running up from her thighs to her ass. She arches her back, hoping to encourage him since words seem to be failing her.

“She tastes as good as we thought she would,” Jack says, his voice a rumble, and that seems to finally get her brain back online.

“Come on,” she says, voice rough. She rocks back against him, feeling the hard line of his cock press against her. “Jack…”

He doesn’t need more convincing, one hand grasping her waist tightly, the other dragging the head of his cock along her wet folds. She takes Brock back into her mouth, pressing her tongue against his cock as she takes him as far as she can. Jack slowly pushes forward, his cock sliding into her wet cunt. He’s longer than Brock, though not quite as thick, and he feels fantastic.

Darcy moans around Brock, Jack filling her up just perfectly. He starts slowly, hands large on his waist as he withdraws before sliding back into her. She rocks back into his thrusts, still licking and sucking Brock off, his hand tightly wrapped in her hair again.

“Her mouth is fucking incredible,” Brock says, voice a rumble. Jack’s grip on her tightens. “Even better than we thought.”

She whimpers as Jack thrusts particularly hard, forcing her deeper on Brock’s cock, though she doesn’t gag. She’d trained herself out of that years ago. Brock starts rocking his hips, gently fucking into her mouth. She moans, grabbing his thigh and pulling, letting him know he’s welcome to fuck her face.

She fucking loves that they’ve thought about this, that they’ve talked about what fucking her would be like. She loves that they fantasized about doing this to her. They’d looked at her when they were guarding her and Jane. They were subtle, but she’s very used to men checking out her chest. Were they thinking about it then? Were they planning how to get her in their bed?

Jack’s thrusts speed up, rocking her body forward, Brock timing his thrusts with Jack’s as he fucks her mouth. Darcy’s overwhelmed in the best possible sense, feeling wonderfully used, loving each caressing touch and whisper of praise.

When Jack lightly smacks her ass, like he’s testing to see if she’s all right with it, she gasps around Brock’s cock, cunt clenching down on Jack.

“Spank her again. She loved that,” Brock says, and she can hear the grin in his voice. She takes his cock deep in her throat, swallowing around him until he’s swearing under his breath.

Jack does, slapping her ass harder, then harder again when she just moans, squeezing around his cock. Brock hunches over a bit to reach down and palm her breast, calloused fingers rolling her hard nipple.

She’s getting close and she thinks they know it, Brock’s fingers pinching and gently twisting at her nipple, Jack’s fingers finding her hard little clit. They fuck into her faster, and it’s getting harder for her to keep up, having no control of her body being rocked between them.

Brock swears and says, “I’m gonna come, princess,” and tries to pull her off, but she doesn’t let him, speeding up until his cock is twitching in her mouth. She takes him as deep as she can, swallowing as he comes down her throat. His hand jerks in her hair before he lets go, hand cradling her jaw as she pulls off him and takes a breath before letting out a long moan, Jack’s fingers speeding up against her clit.

“God, fuck,” she groans, head hanging as Jack fucks her hard and fast. She feels the bed move as Brock adjusts, then his hand is gently pulling her hair to the side so he can see her face. He’s sitting next to her, watching her hungrily, his hand finding her breast, playing with her nipple again.

“Shit,” Jack hisses when he feels her start to tighten around him, another orgasm building deep inside her.

He keeps his hand moving against her clit, fucking her with a brutal pace until she’s coming with a cry, grasping Brock’s hand as the pleasure rushes through her. Her cunt’s spasming around Jack’s cock, her thighs shaking. Brock’s free hand is petting through her hair while he tells her how fucking good she looks like this, how sexy she sounds when she comes.

Jack lets out a deep moan, his grip on her hips tightening as he comes inside her, cock jerking. He rocks into her a few more times before stilling, breathing harshly through his orgasm.

He pulls out slowly, thumb gently tracing her swollen labia, staring at the mess they’ve made of her before crawling up next to her and lying on his side, looking at her. She collapses onto her belly as soon as he lets her go, eyes closed. Brock presses a kiss to her temple, then the mattress shifts as he stands. Darcy turns her head to face Jack, opening her eyes.

Jack grins, brushing her hair out of her face and resting his hand on the side of her throat before leaning in to press his lips against hers. They trade lazy kisses until Brock comes back. She jerks in surprise at the first touch between her thighs, but she realizes it’s a warm washcloth and relaxes. She shifts onto her side when Brock disappears again, facing Jack completely.

Darcy narrows her eyes and says, “I’m onto you two.”

Brock laughs as he slides in bed behind her, hand trailing up and down her side. “You’re onto us?”

“And what is it you’re onto, darlin’?” Jack asks, Australian accent stronger now that he’s loose and relaxed.

“You guys are way too practiced to not have done this before,” she says. Brock laughs against the back of her neck. “That’s not a complaint, by the way.”

“That actually wasn’t the plan tonight,” Jack says, fingers tracing her jawline. “But Brock saw you and couldn’t resist.”

“Hey, you did too!” Brock says indignantly, making Darcy snort.

“Again, I’m so not complaining. But I’m not moving for at least a half hour,” she says.

Brock hums, his hand on her side trailing lower over her hip, fingers very close to the apex of her thighs. “Don’t worry. We’re not interested in you going anywhere.”

Chapter Text

Bucky's already at the Obsidian when Darcy arrives. It's a masquerade night, nearly everyone wearing a mask. Some are simple and black while others are far more elaborate. Brittany's even has feathers.

Darcy recognizes him immediately, even with his eyes covered, his hair tied back, and his metal arm covered with a long-sleeved shirt and a glove. She knows the set of his shoulders and the curve of his jaw, even from across the room.

Darcy adjusts her delicate jeweled black and green mask and walks toward where he's sitting in one of the alcoves. He watches her the whole way, looking hungry. When she gets closer, Darcy can see the alcove is outfitted with the usual two covered arm chairs, but in the center is a raised padded table she’s seen used for sex, massage, and some bondage. She grins when she sees the body-safe candles on the small table between the chairs.

Bucky sees her looking, his lips twisting into a grin. “Interested?” he asks when she’s close.

Darcy steps even closer leaning up to kiss him. He cradles her jaw, lips warm and soft against hers. “Yes,” she says, nudging his nose with hers. “Absolutely.”

Darcy steps out of her heels, kicking them under one of the chairs so Bucky doesn’t trip. Not that he ever would. She turns her back to Bucky, looking over her shoulder. He takes a step toward her, warm hand resting on her back, the other taking the delicate zipper of her black and gold flapper-style dress. He pulls it slowly down, exposing her back, but doesn’t drop it to the floor. Instead he crouches down, keeping the dress off the floor but low enough that she can step out of it before he carefully drapes it over one of the armchairs, as if he knows how much she loves it.

It makes something in her feel suddenly vulnerable, but it doesn’t scare her like it might with someone else. Bucky knows how to hold vulnerable things.

He rakes his eyes over her body, lingering on the lacey black over beige balconette bra and matching panties. She turns to face him, giving him a better view, and steps closer, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck. Bucky rests his hands on her hips, drawing them slowly up her sides until his thumbs are brushing the band of her bra.

“Be my guest,” she says, answering his unasked question.

Bucky leans in to kiss her, his hands sliding to her back, fingers deftly unclasping her bra. She reluctantly breaks the kiss, dropping her arms so he can pull off her bra. His tongue flicks out to lick his lips, eyes on her breasts, before forcing himself onward, pulling her panties down her thighs, offering his arm for balance.

The lingerie joins the dress on the chair, and Bucky helps her up onto the padded table. It’s covered with a soft black sheet that looks great against her skin. She settles on her back, heart racing in excitement. She’s only done this a few times, and while she enjoyed it, she’d been a bit worried about her previous partners’ aim. That’s not something she’s remotely concerned about now.

Bucky picks the deep blue candle first, lighting it with a metal lighter that he slips back into his pocket. He stands near her head, close enough that she can clearly see his blue eyes behind his mask. She licks her lips, unable to look away from him.

Bucky tilts his hand, and the first drips of blue wax hit the center of her chest between her breasts. She inhales sharply, arousal bursting through her. It’s warm, but not burning, and oh, she likes that. A smile tugs at the corner of Bucky’s lips, and he tilts the candle again, a two-inch trail of blue wax splatter marking her right breast.

Darcy hopes this is going where she thinks it is. Each drip of wax that hits her breast sends arousal straight between her thighs, and she’s sure there’s going to be a wet patch on the sheet when they’re done. When the wax falls on her nipple, she can’t help but moan, pressing her thighs together. He doesn’t stop at one drop, tipping the candle over and over until her nipple is nearly covered, warm wax dripping down her breast.

Bucky circles her until he’s standing on her other side. He rests his free hand on her thigh, gently tracing his fingers over her skin, while the other tilts the candle. Her cunt is slick by now, clit swollen. She desperately wants to touch herself, but even more than that, she wants to wait. She wants to see what Bucky will make her into, because he’s looking at her like she’s art.

Her left breast gets the same treatment as the right, nipple covered in warm wax, trails of deep blue scattered around her breast. The wax hardening feels strange, but she doesn’t mind it. It doesn’t itch or burn. Instead, whenever her breasts move with her breath, she can feel the pressure of the wax against her nipples, and she definitely doesn’t mind.

Bucky continues the trails of blue wax down her belly, to her bellybutton, stopping right at her pubic mound. She’s holding her breath, waiting to see what he’ll do, but he stops there. She supposes that’s for the best since she’s desperate to have his mouth between her thighs later.

Bucky blows out the blue candle and picks up one that’s deep purple. She briefly registers that she likes his color choices, then he’s lighting this one too. He tilts the candle over her breasts again, smaller splashes of wax dotting her skin. A couple drops hit her nipples, and she doesn’t bother holding back her whimper, knowing he wants to hear her.

Bucky follows the path of blue wax down her belly, but adds more, watching lines of wax drop down her sides, painting her body in deep purple lines. He lets it drip closer to her vulva this time, and she’s desperately curious. She already knows she’s going to ask him to do this to her again, and hopefully she’ll find out.

Finished with the purple, Bucky picks up the last candle, a deep magenta. He splatters her breasts with wax, paying extra close attention to her nipples this time, until they’re completely covered in warm wax. Her cunt is soaked, and her self restraint is running very thin.

Instead of going down from the center of her chest, he drips lines of wax up, over the clean skin over her sternum, up to the hollow of her throat. She’s breathing hard, biting her lip as Bucky looks down at her, want naked on his face. He does trail the candle down her belly next, closest to her vulva yet, and adds splotches of wax over her hip bones.

He blows the candle out, setting it with the others before stepping back over to her. He trails the back of his hand down her cheek, and she closes her eyes, pressing into his touch.

“You look fantastic, doll,” he says, voice rough and low.

He’s staring at her like she’s a masterpiece, and she can’t wait to find a mirror and see exactly what he’s done to her. But arousal is still coursing through her, and she’s desperate for him to touch her.

“Please, James...” she says, deciding at the last moment that maybe he didn’t want to use the recognizable name Bucky here.

Bucky leans over her, cradling her face, and presses his lips to hers. She tries to deepen the kiss, but he pulls away too quickly. He smirks at her pout, but then he’s walking to the end of the padded table, tugging her down by the thighs, the sheet sliding with her.

Before she can ask, he’s dropping to his knees, putting his mouth at the perfect height. Bucky spreads her wet, swollen labia, for a moment just staring at how messy and needy he’s made her. Then he’s licking between her thighs and she forgets anything else.

Darcy arches her back, gasping as he rolls his tongue against her clit, teasing his fingers at her entrance. It feels incredible to finally be touched after what he’s done to her. She doesn’t realize she’s whimpering “Please” until he murmurs, “I have you, doll,” against her cunt.

Bucky curls two fingers up inside her, pressing up against her g-spot. Darcy whines, thigh jerking against the side of his face, but he doesn’t seem to mind, just humming into her cunt, the vibrations making her lose her breath.

She’s already so close, pleasure building inside her. Bucky closes his lips around her clit, gently sucking, and Darcy comes with a cry. Her orgasm flows over her in waves, dragged out by Bucky’s gentle tongue against her clit and his fingers moving within her.

Bucky only stops when her thighs go limp on either side of his face. He presses a kiss to her inner thigh before standing, coming to stand near her head. She reaches up with a lazy hand, and he takes it, wrapping his fingers around hers.

“How you feeling, doll?” he asks softly.

“So good,” she says. “Sooo good. We are doing that again. Often. A lot.”

Bucky smiles wide. “Glad to hear it,” he says. “Ready to find a mirror?”

“Hmm...yes, but can I ride you first?”

Bucky’s eyes turn dark. “Never going to say no to that, but some wax will probably fall off,” he says, trailing his finger against the wax-splattered curve of her breast.

“Okay. Mirror, then riding you like the damn stallion you are.”

Chapter Text

Darcy’s on all fours on Brock’s soft blue sheets, his thick cock buried inside her. He’s fucking her in long, slow thrusts, amping up her arousal, though it’s not enough to get her off. He gets like this sometimes, intent on working her up until she’s a nearly incoherent mess of need and hedonistic pleasure.

He’d spent a half hour with his mouth between her thighs, two fingers working her wet cunt. She’d come on his tongue, pleasure expertly dragged out of her, and she’d known exactly what she was in for.

Brock tightens his grip on her waist, grinding into her at the end of a long thrust. He withdraws nearly all the way on each thrust, the tip of his cock barely inside her, before fucking back into her. She loves when he takes her from behind, but she can’t come at this speed, and he knows it. He also knows he can get her very, very close, building the tension and need inside her.

“Brock,” she whimpers on a particularly hard thrust. “Please…” He has ironclad self discipline, something she usually admires, but right now she needs him to give in just a little.

“Please what, princess?” Brock asks, and she’s gratified that his voice is rougher than usual.

“Please fuck me harder,” she begs, tightening her cunt around him, making him groan. “I can’t…please…”

Brock runs a soothing hand down her back, farther down to her hip, gripping her tight enough that he’ll hopefully leave marks. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, then fucks into her harder, hard enough that she has to brace herself to keep from sliding on the mattress.

Yesss, she thinks as Brock starts a faster, harder rhythm, like he knows she can’t take his teasing much longer. She rocks back into his thrusts, dropping down to her elbows to change the angle, taking him as deep as she can. Brock hisses, his rhythm stuttering for a moment before he finds it again.

The angle and speed are much better now, and Brock seems less worried about holding back. Gasps and whimpers are falling from her lips, tension coiling tight deep in her lower belly. Brock fucks her faster, like he’s finally getting close.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whimpers, hands fisting in the soft sheets. Brock slides his hand around her hips and between her legs, finger moving against her hard, aching clit. After not being touched for so long, it feels like electricity zinging through her. “Yes, daddy!” she gasps, legs starting to shake.

She’s never said that to him before, and she doesn’t realize it slipped out until he’s swearing under his breath. She has a moment of panic because they’re relatively new, only sleeping together for a couple months, so she hasn’t dived into kinks with him yet, and she has no idea if he’ll be uncomfortable.

But Brock’s wrapping an arm around her torso, hauling her up until she’s kneeling on the bed, her back against his chest. She whimpers as it makes her sink down farther on his cock, his arm around her chest to hold her tightly to him, his other hand moving between her thighs. She clings to Brock’s arms as he thrusts up into her, cock dragging against her g-spot.

“Say it again,” he growls in her ear, and that makes her breath catch.

“D-daddy,” she gasps, his finger fluttering against the side of her clit. “Daddy, please…”

Hearing it makes Brock’s cock twitch, then he’s fucking up into her, setting a fast, brutal pace. Darcy has no leverage this way, having to just grasp his arms as he drags pleasure out of her.

“You’re fucking perfect, princess,” he rumbles, teeth nipping at the ridge of her ear.

She can only whine in response, words failing her as he plays her body. She’s never been fucked like this, and that seems like an enormous oversight. The room is full of grunts and whimpers, both of them nearly lost in the desperate rush. Her orgasm is close, her cunt starting to tighten around his thick cock.

“That’s it, baby,” he says, fingers keeping their steady pace against her clit. “Let daddy feel you come.”

Darcy’s orgasm hits her like a train, waves of pleasure rushing through her body, dragged on by Brock’s cock moving inside her and his fingers against her throbbing clit. She lets out a noise she didn’t even know she was capable of making, cunt spasming around his cock as she shakes through it.

Brock keeps fucking her as if supporting nearly all her weight is no issue at all, thrusting into her welcoming and pliant body, slick noises duetting with his moans as he chases his own release. Brock stills, teeth set against her shoulder as he comes with a groan, his cock jerking inside her. His grip on her is tight, arms around her chest and abdomen, and she holds him right back as he rides out his orgasm.

When he can take a deep breath again, he eases his grip and gently lowers her to the bed. She lets out an involuntary wounded noise when he cock slips free of her, but he’s collapsing next to her a moment later, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her to his chest. She can feel his racing heart against her cheek, and she knows they’ll probably have to discuss that in a bit, but for now she’s just focusing on breathing normally again.

Chapter Text

Darcy whimpers, back arching off the silky sheets of Natasha’s bed. Natasha is between Darcy’s thighs, three fingers inside Darcy’s dripping cunt. Darcy’s already come twice on Natasha’s tongue as Natasha worked her more and more open.

Over the past few months, Natasha’s been fucking Darcy with thicker and thicker toys, stretching her needy cunt more than it’s ever been before. And Darcy’s fucking loved every second of it.

Natasha pulls her hand back until she can add her pinky, watching avidly as Darcy’s cunt swallows all four of her fingers. Darcy whines, instinctively clenching down around the fingers filling her.

“Relax, kitten,” Natasha says, running her free hand up and down Darcy’s thigh. “Let me in.”

Darcy lets out a shuddering breath, relaxing her inner muscles as Natasha starts to move her fingers inside her again, spreading them wide, working Darcy even more open. Natasha brushes against her g-spot often, but not hard or often enough to truly get her off.

Darcy gets lost in the sensation, rocking into Natasha’s ministrations. Her hands drift up her massage her breasts, fingers pinching her hard and sensitive nipples.

Natasha knows how to play her body and bring her into a haze of pleasure and need. So much so that Darcy doesn’t realize at first that Natasha has paused and pulled her fingers nearly all the way out, pressing her thumb against her palm to make her fingers into the shape of a cone.

Darcy’s heart stutters in excitement, warm desire flooding her. Natasha gives her a wicked grin before returning all her focus between Darcy’s thighs. Her hand is slick with lube as she presses forward, watching intently as Darcy’s greedy cunt takes her fingers easily, only struggling at the wide ridge of her knuckles.

“Deep breaths,” Natasha says, her voice soft and soothing, but Darcy can hear the undercurrent of excitement.

Natasha slowly rotates her hand, knuckles brushing around Darcy’s swollen folds. It seems impossible that it’ll fit. Natasha’s hands aren’t huge, but a fist is a fist, and she doesn’t know how she’s meant to take that. The pressure is consistent but not painful, Natasha easing her hand deeper and deeper until her knuckles are pressed right against her opening. There’s no way it’ll fit…

Then her cunt is giving way, the widest part of Natasha’s hand sliding into her. Darcy gasps, bearing down as Natasha eases the rest of her hand into Darcy’s stretched cunt, her pussy struggling to close around Natasha’s wrist.

“Oh god,” Darcy breathes, nearly shaking. She doesn’t think she’s ever been this aroused. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

Natasha kisses the inside of Darcy’s bent knee, looking up at her hungrily before dragging her eyes back to Darcy’s red, swollen cunt. She turns her hand inside her, her knuckles dragging against Darcy’s sensitive walls, making her keen.

“Good girl,” Natasha breathes, then curls her fingers, closing her fist inside her.

Darcy nearly shrieks, clenching down around Natasha’s fist inside her. It’s so fucking good. She’s never felt this full, and she fucking loves it. She already knows she’s going to ask Natasha to do this again.

Natasha hasn’t moved since making her hand into a fist, waiting patiently for Darcy to be ready. Darcy slowly rocks her hips, letting out a guttural moan at how it shifts the hand inside her.

Natasha presses a hand down on her lower belly, stilling her, then starts to slowly fuck her fist inside her, never pulling out of her soaked, velvety cunt. Darcy’s making high-pitched hurt little noises as her orgasm builds, Natasha’s fist hitting her g-spot on every short little thrust.

“Just think,” Natasha purrs, starting to circle Darcy’s swollen, aching clit with her free fingers, “about how good it’ll feel when we work you up to taking two fists.”

Darcy cries out as Natasha leans in to flutter her tongue over her hard little clit. The idea of Natasha having both hands buried inside her makes arousal and need zing through her, tension building deep in her pelvis. She pinches at her nipples, cunt starting to tighten around Natasha’s fist, then Natasha closes her lips around Darcy’s clit and sucks, and that’s just all she can take.

Darcy thrashes as she comes around Natasha’s fist, Natasha slowing but not stopping, keeping her mouth on Darcy’s clit and her fist fucking inside her as her orgasm rips through her. Hot, sharp pleasure rushes through her veins as her abused cunt struggles to clench around Natasha’s fist.

Natasha only stills completely when Darcy goes limp, utterly spent. She presses a kiss to Darcy’s inner thigh and relaxes her hand inside her, drawing a small whine from Darcy. She slowly works her hand out of Darcy’s loosened cunt, watching how long it takes her to close up again.

In any other situation, watching Natasha start to touch herself with the hand soaked from Darcy’s cunt would turn Darcy on in seconds, and she knows she’s going to masturbate to this later, but she’s just too exhausted to do anything but watch as Natasha brings herself off between Darcy’s legs.

Natasha shudders through her orgasm, not taking long at all to come. She crawls up the mattress next to Darcy, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“How’re you doing?” Natasha asks, tracing the line of Darcy’s jaw with her dry hand.

“Good—I’m—it’s—” Darcy cuts herself off with a huff. “Brain offline. Will comment soon.”

Natasha just laughs.

Chapter Text

Darcy cries out as she sinks down, Bucky’s cock filling her ass. She’s up on her knees on the bed, her back pressed against his chest, clinging to the arm he has wrapped around her waist. Her eyes flutter shut as she hangs her head, taking deep breaths, but Bucky’s other hand takes her gently by the jaw, forcing her head up.

“Nuh uh, sweetheart. Open your eyes,” he growls in her ear. “You wanted them to see you like this, so open those pretty eyes of yours.”

Darcy whimpers but does as he says. Clint and Steve are watching from the foot of the bed, the hard cocks barely contained by their boxers. They’re watching her with hungry eyes, both of them looking like they’re just barely holding themselves back. It sends a shiver through her, her wet cunt aching between her thighs.

“Look at how much they want you,” Bucky says, starting to rock his hips, cock moving inside her. “Such a good little slut for us, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” Clint says, voice rough as he crawls to them, eyes between her legs. He sits back on his heels, looking at her trembling body. He’s been given permission to touch, and he doesn’t hesitate, running rough hands up her thighs, thumbs following the trail of wetness smeared between them until they’re brushing against her swollen labia. “A perfect little whore,” Clint says, running his finger over her wet folds.

Darcy whines, trying to spread her legs wider for him, but it just makes her sink even lower onto Bucky’s cock. Clint swears as Bucky moans, tightening his grip on her.

“So needy, aren’t you?” Bucky says. His hand releases her jaw, dropping down to her breast. He grazes her hard nipple with his thumb, making her inhale sharply. “You’re that desperate for him to fuck you?”

Darcy whimpers, cunt throbbing at that, but she knows he’s waiting for an answer. “Y—yes,” she says, watching Clint’s dark eyes flick up to her face. “Please...please touch me.”

Clint keeps his eyes on her face, cataloguing her every expression as he moves his fingers deeper between her folds tracing from her hard little clit to her opening, fingertips just barely dipping into her. She whines, trying to clench around them, but he pulls them away with a grin, circling her clit again.

“Mmm, you have to do better, doll,” Bucky says, thrusting up into her, making her gasp.

“Please!” she says, stuttering as Bucky pinches at her nipple. “Clint please, please touch me!” She rocks her hips against his fingers, trying to get more of his touch, groaning when it makes Bucky’s cock move in her ass.

Clint hums like he’s considering it, fingers gathering wetness from her folds as he listens to her beg. He waits until right after she says his name, then slides two fingers inside her.

“God, yes,” Darcy gasps, squeezing tight around his fingers.

“You’re right; she does have a greedy cunt,” Clint says.

Darcy’s face flushes, but she can’t make herself stop as she works herself around his fingers, wordlessly begging for more. As much as he’s enjoying her begging, he still gives her what she’s asking for, curling his fingers against her g-spot. She’s not nearly as full as she wants to be, but she still loves it, working herself around his fingers and Bucky’s hard cock.

“No,” she whines when Clint pulls his fingers out of her, but then he’s stripping out of his boxers, and god yes, this is what she’s been waiting for.

Bucky lifts her up just enough that Clint can press the tip of his hard cock against her dripping entrance. He pushes in slowly, watching her carefully to make sure she’s all right, but she’s well prepared for this. She throws her head back onto Bucky’s shoulder, shuddering as Clint’s cock slides into her. She’s unbelievably full, and it’s exactly what she’s been craving.

“Fuck,” Clint hisses, his hands tight on her hips. He thrusts up into her, ripping a cry from her throat. She can feel his cock moving against Bucky’s separated only by a thin wall of flesh inside her. “Can’t believe you want to share her,” he says through gritted teeth.

Bucky chuckles, the sound rumbling through her as he rocks into her, starting a steady rhythm that Clint matches. “She just has such a hungry little cunt,” he says, and he doesn’t even have the courtesy to be out of breath as he fucks into her. She fucking loves that they're talking about her like she's not even here. “But I won’t share her ass, will I, sweetheart?”

Darcy doesn’t have words right now, so she just moans in response. Clint and Bucky laugh, fucking up into her welcoming body. Bucky’s hands are tight on her, using his strength to move her on their cocks. It’s so much better than when Bucky fucks her with a plug inside her.

She grasps Clint’s shoulders as he starts to fuck into her harder, leaning forward to mouth at his neck. He hisses, grip tightening on her, so she keeps going, biting whimpering kisses down his throat. She bites down harder, gratified by him swearing under his breath in response.

Clint drops a hand between their bodies, fingers circling her hard clit, and she can’t seem to focus on anything else, clinging to him as he draws pleasure from her body. She’s getting close, and she’s pretty sure he can tell, keeping her on the edge as his thrusts speed up, chasing his own orgasm.

She can see Steve over his shoulder, now naked, hand on his hard, thick cock, and she hadn’t forgotten he’s here exactly, but she’d been very focused on the two men spearing her open. Steve’s watching her with dark, heated eyes, a look on his face that she’d imagined but didn’t think she’d ever actually see. Then Bucky had told her about how they’d shared women when they were younger, and she’d wanted to see it even more.

“He’s watching you, doll,” Bucky grunts in her ear, having noticed where she’s looking. “You’re like his wet dream come to life. He can’t wait to feel your slutty little cunt.”

Steve’s hand squeezes tight around the base of his cock as if he’s holding himself back, and god, she can’t wait.

Clint’s thrusts become frantic, his finger on her clit moving faster. She tears her eyes from Steve to look up at Clint. He’s muttering under his breath, telling her how fucking good she feels, what a perfect little whore she is for them, how good she’s going to look with their come dripping out of her.

Darcy comes with a cry, body clenching down on the two cocks moving inside her as pleasure rushes through her. She clings to them weakly as she rides through her orgasm, but they don’t stop, Bucky telling Clint to keep going, to fuck her through it and take what he wants from her body.

Clint kisses her roughly, the first time he’s kissed her tonight, then his thrusts become wild. His cock twitches inside her as he comes, stutterfucking her until he’s finished, hands tight on her. Bucky had slowed when Clint did, holding her between them, watching as his friend emptied his balls inside his girlfriend.

Clint presses a kiss to her throat before pulling back, withdrawing from her still-pulsing cunt. She lets out a soft noise, feeling suddenly empty, but Bucky shushes her, a hand coming up to cradle her throat.

“Don’t you worry. Steve will fill up that greedy cunt of yours,” he says.

As if on cue, Steve moves, crawling toward them as Clint settles back to watch. Steve kneels in front of her, taking her face in his hand, then he leans in and kisses her roughly, much rougher than she’d expected from him. She fucking loves it, moaning into his mouth as his fingers find her soft and open cunt. But just as soon as he’d started, he stops, pulling back.

“Don’t pout,” Bucky says, running a hand between her thighs. “You’ll have him inside you soon.”

She can’t help rocking against his hand, chasing more as she watches Steve lie on his back next to them, and suddenly she knows what Bucky wants. He bends her over and pulls out, leaving her dripping and terribly empty.

“Go on, doll. Go climb on his cock,” Bucky says, slapping her ass.

Darcy does, crawling up Steve’s body until she’s straddling him, positioning herself over his hard cock. He’s nearly as thick as Bucky but even longer, and she knows she’s going to be a fucking mess when this is over. She can’t wait.

Steve holds his cock steady as she lowers herself onto him, throwing her head back with a long moan as he fills her, the curve in his cock brushing against her g-spot. He grips her hips tightly, like he’s stopping himself from fucking her until Bucky joins them.

“Fuck,” Steve says, eyes fixed on where his cock is disappearing into her, her own wetness and Clint’s come smeared between their bodies. He traces his fingers over her wet, puffy labia. “Christ, you’re so fucking red and swollen down here.”

“She’s been thinking about this for months,” Bucky says, lining up behind her, the bulbous head of his cock pressing against her loose hole. “Haven’t you, doll? Been fantasizing about taking your boyfriend’s best friend’s cock like a dirty little slut? Tell him what you want.”

“I want…” Darcy closes her eyes, swallowing hard as Bucky presses the tip of his cock into her ass.

“Tell him, sweetheart, and I’ll keep going,” Bucky says.

“I w—want you both to fuck me until I’m a fucked out mess and I can’t even think,” she says, finding it hard to stop speaking now that she’s started, even though her face is flushed with her embarrassment and arousal. “I want your cocks stuffed inside me until I feel like I’m going to rip apart.” She clenches down around Steve’s cock, whining when Bucky presses in another couple inches. “I want your come dripping out of my gaping cunt. I want to be filthy and sore and ruined, and then I want you all to fuck me again. I want you to use me like I’m your personal whore.”

“Christ, Darcy,” Steve growls, hands so tight on her waist that she’s sure she’ll have bruises. Good. She wants them. “Don’t worry, dollface, we will. We’re going to fuck you like the perfect little slut you are.” Darcy moans at his words, rocking her hips, trying to get more of them.

“Good girl,” Bucky says in her ear, pressing his hips forward, his thick cock sliding back into her ass.

Steve grinds her on his cock as Bucky bottoms out inside her, keeping steady pressure against her abused clit. She mewls, impaled on their cocks, nails digging into Steve’s chest. It’s even better than she’d imagined, even better than Bucky had promised her. He’d fuck her with his cock in one hole and her thick pink dildo in the other, telling her soon she’d be filled properly, promising her she she’ll never want to stop.

Bucky knows what she can take, and he and Steve don’t stop to give her time to adjust. They fuck into her with long, deep thrusts, making sure she’s never empty. The drag of their cocks inside her is fucking incredible, Bucky’s thickness forcing the curve of Steve’s dick against her g-spot.

She’s not shocked that they used to do this often, not at all surprised at the amount of women eager to be railed by the two of them. They know exactly what they’re doing, practiced at fucking a woman between them, at dragging pleasure from her body, and leaving her aching for more.

Bucky slides a hand up her glistening back, bending her over until Steve can suck a hard, sensitive nipple into his mouth, his hand squeezing and massaging her other breast. It’s like there’s a line of pleasure from her nipples to her clit, adding to the torrent of pressure building inside her.

She’s completely lost in them, in a haze of desire of sensation as they fuck her between them, hands and mouths roaming over her trembling body. She feels like she’s floating, her weak body easily manhandled by the two of them as they force her down on their cocks, filling her in ways she never thought she’d experience.

Clint’s watching them raptly, his cock starting to harden again between his thighs, and she knows that even though she’s going to be exhausted when Steve and Bucky are through with her, she’s still going to beg for him to use her. This is her biggest fantasy come to life, and there’s not a chance in hell she’s going to waste it.

“Do you think the three of us will even be enough?” Bucky asks, voice rough as he snakes a hand between her body and Steve’s, finding her hard clit. She knows that tone and knows it means he’s getting close. “Or are you going to crave more? I know Tony would be thrilled to fill you up, that little hedonist. And Thor would probably jump at the chance to bounce you on his cock. Did you know he's said you remind him of an Asgard fertility goddess? He's talked about your 'supple, luxurious body' after a few pints of mead.”

“Fuck,” Darcy gasps, thighs tensing on either side of Steve. He and Bucky both make soft noises, like they can feel her tightening around them. “I—I’m—” But she doesn’t know, unable to think of anything other than the men in her bed and the pleasure building deep in her pelvis.

“That’s it, doll, let go. Steve wants to know how that perfect little cunt of yours feels when you come,” Bucky rumbles, Steve punctuating his words with his teeth scraping against her nipple.

Bucky flutters his fingers against her clit just how she loves, and she can’t hold back any longer, orgasm rushing through her. Pleasure radiates over her in waves, her body spasming around the two cocks filling her as Steve and Bucky wrench more ecstasy from her than she knows what to do with. She doesn’t recognize the high, desperate noises she’s making, or the guttural moan she shifts into when they speed up, both of them chasing their own peaks.

It’s Steve who finishes first, stilling inside her as fills her with come, holding her down against him as Bucky continues to fuck into her ass, jostling her overwhelmed body. Steve moans as he jerks inside her, eyes on her face the entire time. He doesn’t pull out of her though, keeping her impaled on him as Bucky fucks into her for another few moments, finally slamming deep inside of her and coming, his cock twitching as he adds a third load of come to her body.

They hold her steady between them, breathing hard. She can’t hold herself up any longer, all but collapsing onto Steve’s chest. They haven’t pulled out of her yet, which she is grateful for, not sure if she’s ready to be empty. Her eyes flutter open when she hears a slick noise, and realizes it’s Clint, his hand slowly stroking his cock as he watches them, leaning against the headboard a couple feet from Steve.

She’d been right before. Despite the fact that she feels weak as a kitten, her body exhausted and used, she still wants him inside her.

Darcy licks her lips and looks up at Clint’s face. “Please,” she asks, voice throaty, and opens her mouth wide.

Clint curses under his breath, and she can feel both Steve’s and Bucky’s cocks twitch with interest inside her. God bless super soldiers’ refractory periods. This is her fantasy come to life, and she’s not going to stop yet. She’s going to be used like the slut she is.

Chapter Text

Eddie's hands are tight on Darcy's hips where she's straddling his torso. Venom has dark tendrils wrapped tightly around her torso and trailing up her back, cradling her body. She feels slightly loose limbed, relaxed from the orgasm they just gave her, but her arousal is far from gone.

Eddie and Venom lift her slightly, pulling her down Eddie's body until she's hovering over his hard cock. She looks down to see Venom's tendrils wrapped around Eddie's cock, stroking him and guiding him to Darcy slick entrance, soft from having Venom fucking her just moments ago.

Darcy lowers herself, supported by Eddie and Venom, until he's sliding into her. She lets out a whimper as he fills her, thicker than the tentacle Venom had had inside her. "Fuuuuck," she says, drawing out the word. "How did I know you'd have a big cock?"

Eddie laughs at that, the movement bouncing her on his cock a bit, making them both moan. He starts gently rocking into her, giving just a tiny bit of the stimulation she so desperately wants.

"You know what to do, V," Eddie says, voice strained as she clenches down around him. "Go a little slower on her than you would on me."

Darcy swears under her breath. She’d suspected, but it's fucking sexy to hear, to know they do this with each other, and often from the sound of it.

Venom ripples against her back, an excited rumbling noise coming from him, then he's pushing her forward until she's bracing herself on Eddie's chest, back arched as tendrils spread her cheeks apart, something warm and slick circling her hole.

Eddie reaches up, taking her heavy breasts in his hands. She whimpers as he kneads the sensitive flesh, thumbs brushing over her hard nipples right when a thin tentacle slides into her ass. Shuddering with how good it feels, she bears down, making it easier for him to slide in deeper.

It's just as incredible as when he was in her cunt, more flexible than any cock, toy, or fingers ever could be. He writhes and slithers inside her, encouraging her to open up for him. It's a few minutes of this exquisite treatment, rocking on Eddie's thick cock, his mouth and hands at her sensitive breasts before she realizes Venom isn't only moving inside her; he's also growing thicker.

"Oh god," she gasps out as Eddie drags his teeth against her nipple right as Venom grows inside her, as if he knows she wants to feel him swell, forcing her wider.

"Good?" Eddie asks, sounding a bit breathless, no doubt feeling Venom moving against his cock, separated only by a thin wall inside her. It's hard to guess, but it feels like Venom's about the thickness of the smaller of her two dildos at home.

"So good," she says, rocking her hips more, taking more of Venom into herself, making Eddie groan. "You can—you both can—” She swallows hard, forcing herself to get the words out. "Venom, you can thicker...more, please..."

Eddie swears under his breath and another deep pleased noise rumbles through her from Venom, making her shudder. Then Venom grows in her again, slowly thickening and forcing her wider and wider. He's good at this, knows exactly how to stretch her, tentacle pulsating inside her as it moves.

"She's ready, love," Eddie says to Venom, caressing her nipples one last time before dropping his hands to her hips. "Let's make sure she wants us again."

Yes,” Venom says, the tentacle inside her nearly vibrating, and oh god that’s fantastic. Warm, soft tendrils curl around her from the mass of Venom cradling her back, taking over at her breasts where Eddie had left off, enveloping each nearly completely. He massages her tits, her nipples being squeezed and rolled tighter than the flesh around them. It’s like nothing she’s ever felt, as if every single erogenous zone on her breasts are being manipulated at once. “We'll ruin her.

Darcy swears as she starts to ride them, raising herself up until only the tip of Eddie’s cock is nestled inside her before sliding back down, moaning as she feels him rubbing against Venom. Venom had never left her, keeping her ass full as she rides Eddie, writhing and rotating inside her, traveling deeper than anything else has ever been. She doesn’t know how she’ll ever go back to anal beads or plugs after this, not now that she knows what it’s like to be truly filled.

“Fuck, look at you,” Eddie groans, guiding her as she bounces on his cock, whimpers and gasps falling from her lips. “You take us so well. Like you were made for us.” He presses a hand against her lower belly, as if he could feel them moving inside her. “He’s so fucking deep inside you, Christ.”

He says it like he can feel what Venom’s feeling. God, maybe he can.

Darcy whines, legs starting to shake as she rides them. It’s so goddamn good, and she’s so full, and it’s so hard to keep going when she’s feeling so many sensations at once. They seem to know that, Eddie gripping her hips tighter, Venom tightening his hold around her torso, tendrils wrapping from her back around her shoulders to brace her better.

“We’ve got you,” Eddie says, voice rough. “Don’t you worry.”

They lift her up, his cock just barely inside her, then drag her back down onto him, Venom pulsating inside her at the same time. Darcy shrieks, cunt clenching around them, overwhelmed at how full she is (is Venom still slowly growing inside her? She thinks he is…) and how her aching nipples are being manipulated and how she’s sure she’s never going to find anything as good as being impaled on them.

Venom rolls and pinches and squeezes her nipples harder, as if he knows she’s close to flying apart. When she looks down, thick black tendrils criss-cross over her belly, her breasts supported by warm black masses. It nearly looks like she’s wearing a shiny black bra, except it’s living and moving and playing her body like it has the manual.

Darcy’s never been quiet in bed, but she can’t stop making noises, whimpers and whines and gasps being dragged from her by the two of them. Venom is impossibly deep inside her, twisting and pulsating and writhing through her insides, rubbing against Eddie’s thick cock fucking in and out of her soaked cunt.

She reaches a shaking hand behind her, tracing around where Venom’s splitting her open, feeling how wide her hole is stretched, making her eager to see how puffy and wrecked it'll look when they’re done with her.

“I—I’m gonna—oh, fuck—I’m—” She can’t even get the words out, unable to articulate the exorbitant amount of pleasure coiling tight inside her. “I’m—”

Going to come for us,” Venom says, then a long tongue is curling around her hip from behind her, moving between her legs.

“Oh god,” she whimpers, her head falling back as the prehensile tongue curls and rolls against her hard little clit. A thin black tendril creeps over her shoulder, wrapping around her throat and squeezing lightly, drawing a guttural moan from her.

Darcy’s lost between them in a haze of sensation, easily manhandled by them as they fuck up in her pliant, trembling body, forced to take everything they give her. She wants it all, would let them do anything to her if it made her feel this good.

Venom’s deep growls rumble through her, his tongue licking against her clit while he writhes faster inside her, and she realizes it’s to rub Eddie’s cock through that thin wall inside her, to force Eddie and her both to come.

The tension that’s been twisting tighter and tighter inside her finally snaps, her orgasm slamming into her like a tsunami, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through her and leaving her weak. She shakes apart between them, cunt spasming around the thick intrusions forcing her open. Venom’s tendrils caress her as she comes apart, Eddie’s hands tight as he fucks her through it, chasing his own pleasure.

Eddie’s thrusts are getting shorter and harder, then he’s stilling, shouting “Fuck!” as he comes, cock jerking inside her still-clenching cunt. Venom lets out a pleased rumble, and Darcy briefly wonders if he came himself or if he maybe experienced it through Eddie, but then he’s pressing her forward until she’s lying on Eddie’s chest, his strong arms wrapping around her trembling form, and it slips from her mind.

Darcy lets out a soft whimper as the tentacle in her ass starts to withdraw, the astonishing length taking longer than she’d expected to pull out, the tip gently circling her abused rim before retreating entirely. Eddie runs a slightly unsteady hand down her back as the mass of Venom at her back disappears, leaving her slightly a little cool.

Darcy nuzzles into Eddie’s chest as she struggles to get her breath back, pleased that he seems equally affected. They lie like that for a while, slowly coming back down to Earth, eventually trading lazy kisses as he frames her face with a steadier hand.

"How do you feel?" he asks, lips brushing hers.

She has to clear her throat and when she speaks, her voice is still rough. "Used," she says, shivering and letting her legs fall open wider as she feels tendrils gently prodding at her leaking holes. Eddie's leg jerks as Venom traces where Eddie's and Darcy's bodies are still connected. "Wonderfully used." She pauses, thinking about her schedule before she has to fly back. "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

Chapter Text

As usual, it’s all Tony’s idea. She has no idea how long it had taken him to set up, but they’re at a ballroom in the tower, and it’s dressed up like the most lavish sex club she could imagine. Steve had said that nothing could make glory holes classy, and Tony had taken that as a challenge. It's still not classy, but it's better than a bathroom.

There are a half dozen glory hole stalls set up with heavy, luxurious drapes and strong temporary walls (she’s not an engineer, but they didn’t wiggle when she’d pushed on them).

There are also a handful of larger stalls set up. There are tall sturdy padded tables for someone to lie on, and instead of a small hole for a cock to go through, there’s a larger hole for the lower half of the body. It means when Darcy’s lies there, a wall and curtain will be between her and whoever is fucking her. And she’ll have no idea who it is.

Natasha is leading Darcy, Jane, Wanda, and Bruce into the stalls meant for penetrative sex, helping them get set up. Bruce and Jane lie on their stomachs on their tables, hips propped on pads and knees held by soft stirrups so they don’t have to stand the whole time.

Darcy and Wanda lie on their backs on their padded tables, their stalls next to each other. Natasha helps Wanda first, then she gets Darcy settled, tugging her down the table until her bare ass is nearly hanging off of it. She spreads Darcy’s legs wide, exposing her cunt, and puts her ankles in soft cuffs, attaching them on a long line with lots of slack to the temporary wall and curtain separating her from whoever will fuck her.

It keeps her spread open and incredibly exposed, legs supported, and gives her absolutely no leverage. Whoever takes her will control how hard, how deep, and how fast they fuck her. She’s wet between the thighs already.

Natasha adjusts the straps holding her ankles, making sure there’s enough slack that she’s comfortable, knees slightly bent. Then her soft hands drag down Darcy’s legs from ankles to her center, thumbs spreading Darcy’s labia wide. She can hear Natasha hum, then her hand comes down, slapping Darcy’s cunt.

Darcy cries out, arousal blooming through her. Natasha pats the inside of her thigh, then her hand disappears, the sound of her heels against the ballroom floor fading as she walks away.

Darcy is...she’s just so excited. She’s seen this in porn, granted a lot cheaper looking, and she’s always gotten off on it. To be the one in it, to be lying there, used by whoever comes up and decides what they’ll give her and make her take...She’s touched herself for two weeks thinking about this.

“Doors are opening,” call Pepper’s voice, deep and sultry. Darcy has a feeling she had a big hand in planning this.

Tony and Pepper had made it clear that the only people invited are those who are already involved in their little free love experience, but they’d been mum on who was actually coming. The only people Darcy’s sure of are the others she came with, Jane, Wanda, and Bruce. The ones who came to be fucked.

She hears the soft swish of the ballroom doors opening and multiple sets of footsteps, then the soft music that’s been playing in the background turns louder. She can hear people talking and laughing and milling around, but she can’t identify where anyone is.

It’s barely a minute before Wanda gasps in the stall next to her, the sound quickly turning into a moan. From farther away, she thinks toward the standard glory hole stalls, comes the sounds of gagging and slick skin on skin. Darcy’s cunt is tingling between her thighs, folds already glistening wet as she listens, excitement coursing through her.

Darcy jumps when a warm hand wraps around her ankle, dragging slowing down her leg. She bites her lip, fighting the urge to push into the touch. The hand is large, and that doesn’t narrow down who it could be much more than disqualifying Pepper and Natasha, whose hands are much more delicate.

Two hands rest on either side of her vulva, spreading her wide like Natasha had, just looking at her. That narrows it down some…Jack, Steve, and Thor are all big ol’ perverts and like to stare at her cunt, especially after it’s well used.

Two thick fingers slide into her, crooking against her g-spot, and trying to guess who’s between her thighs becomes less important. She whimpers, hands wrapped around the handles attached to the top of the table for her to brace herself on. She’s had fantasies about this, has imagined herself as one of the women being fucked by man after anonymous man, cunt sore and swollen and utterly ruined.

A tongue licks up her wet folds, and she cries out, thighs tensing as it moves against her aching clit.

Wanda’s whimpering next to her, a loud wet slapping noise making it clear she’s being fucked hard and fast.

The fingers inside Darcy move quicker, pressing insistently against her g-spot, the tongue fluttering against her clit.

Somewhere to her left, Bruce lets out a long moan.

Lips wrap around her clit, sucking gently as another hand presses down on her lower belly, right over where her g-spot’s being touched, and she’s coming with a shout, cunt gushing as she shakes through her first orgasm of the night. The mouth and hands only stop when her cunt stops fluttering around the fingers, and she makes a soft noise of disappointment at the loss, then the blunt head of a cock is parting her folds, kissing against her opening.

Darcy’s breathing hard, keeping still as she waits. There’s no way for her to rock into the touch, no leverage for her to force herself down on his cock, and that’s torture for her. And whoever is between her legs knows that. She lets out a soft whine, and gets a deep chuckle in response, then a thick cock is slamming into her.

Darcy lets out a shrieking cry, back arching as he rams himself into her over and over, large hands wrapped tightly around her thighs.

Jane makes a loud keening noise Darcy knows well, and she knows her best friend just came with a mouth between her slim thighs.

The man fucking her speeds up, thrusts getting shorter and harder as he chases his own release, hands tight enough to leave bruises. Darcy can’t wait to see what her body looks like after this. She wants to catalogue every bruise, mark, spot of beard burn...she wants to see how messy and red her cunt is when they’re done with her.

The man between her thighs grunts and goes still, thick cock jerking as he comes inside her. She whimpers, because god, it’s just one of her favorite feelings. Steve, Bucky, and Clint ran a train on her once, and as soon as Clint had finished, Bucky had slammed his cock into her, hard again thanks to super soldier serum, and emptied himself inside her, followed closely by Steve. She’ll never feel someone come inside her without being aroused.

She wants to be even messier tonight.

The man pulls out slowly, tip on his cock resting right inside her for a long moment before he withdraws completely, his come and her own wetness trickling out of her. The hands spread her wide again, thumb trailing through the mess leaking from her cunt before pushing as much back into her as he can. She whimpers, squirming, but they both know she loves it.

Finally, with a pat on the ass, he walks away, footsteps retreating. Darcy takes a deep breath, centering herself. She feels...she feels good. She’s relaxed from her orgasm, but she still craves more.

Darcy stays like that, staring at the deep red curtain that’s resting on her bare torso rise and fall with her breath. Come is seeping out of her, dripping down to the tight pucker of her ass, and it feels a bit like a loss.

Someone is loudly gagging on a cock, sounding like it’s being fucked down their throat, and it masks the sound of footsteps approaching until they’re right before her. She’s not sure what she’s expecting, then the tip of a cock is brushing through her dripping folds. It circles around her swollen clit, making her whimper, before notching at her entrance.

He just stays there, tip just inside her. She clenches around it, trying to encourage him to move. He rocks into her a tiny bit, but it’s not nearly enough, and he knows it.

“Please,” Darcy whimpers, lifting her hips as best she can. “Please!”

Apparently begging is what he’d been waiting for. He enters her in a long stroke, one hand tight on her waist as he thrusts into her. His other hand spreads over her lower back, lifting her hips, changing the angle to drag his cock against her g-spot.

Darcy gasps, thighs tensing as he smoothly fucks into her, pleasure ramping up inside her. It’s louder around her now, harder to distinguish the moans and cries of pleasure from each other, except for Wanda’s next to her as she sobs through her second orgasm.

“God!” Darcy shouts, not expecting the vibrator against her clit.

There’s a soft laugh, but she can’t tell who it’s from. She doesn’t care right now, as long as he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t, fucking her in those same smooth thrusts, pressing the vibrator right against the side of her clit, exactly where she always touches herself.

She’s letting out soft keening noises, cunt starting to tense up around him. Then he slaps her ass, and she clenches around him, the sting of pain forcing her orgasm out of her. Her cunt ripples around him as the pleasure rushes through her, but just like the last man, he doesn’t stop, not until he’s coming inside her, cock pressed as deep as it will go.

He stays inside her longer, as if he enjoys the hot clutch of her body, but eventually pulls his softening cock from her, followed by a trickle of his come. She feels soft and open, her cunt warm and throbbing, and she definitely doesn’t hate it. This is one of her biggest fantasies, and so far it’s as amazing as she’d imagined.

Slim fingers dip into her next, four sliding into her easily, gathering come and her own wetness on them, then dipping lower, circling her untouched ass. There’s the sound of a bottle of lube opening, then she’s being worked open, first with one finger, then two, then three sinking deep into her.

Darcy...Darcy loves anal. And she partakes often. It doesn’t take long before four fingers are fucking into her. She can’t tell if it’s Natasha or Pepper. It may even be Maria or Sharon, though Darcy isn’t sure if they’re back in the country. All she knows is she’s going to come again with her ass stretched open and a quick tongue fluttering against her overworked clit.

Darcy comes with a sob similar to Bruce’s nearby, body gripping tight to the four fingers stuffed inside her. They don’t withdraw immediately, scissoring and stretching her wider, slick thumb circling her rim until they finally deem her open enough. They disappear from her, leaving her entirely too empty, but then a hard, blunt object is being pressed into her, and she realizes it’s a glass plug.

Darcy moans as the thick intrusion is forced into her, feeling stretched impossibly wide at the thickest point, but then it’s settling inside her, heavy and warm. It takes her a moment to realize whoever had been touching her is gone, too distracted by how wonderful it feels to be full.

Someone curses in the distance and she thinks it’s Steve. He’s been waiting for tonight too, and he’s a particular fan of Clint’s mouth. She imagines that it’s him coming down Clint’s throat that she just heard, picturing Clint’s nose pressed against Steve’s body, throat bulging with his cock.

It sends a new thread of arousal through her, not that she needed even more. She wishes she could squeeze her thighs together to relieve some of the pressure. There was no rule against touching herself, but she doesn’t want to, hesitant to slip her hand under the red curtain. She likes the anonymity aspect of it. She likes not knowing when someone’s going to come and use her, waiting hopelessly aroused until they do.

Next to her, Wanda’s being fucked long and slow, decadent, throaty moans pulled from her on each stroke. Darcy starts squirming a bit, hands drifting to her breasts. She massages them before focusing on her nipples, rolling the aching buds between her fingers. She’s already soaked from her own arousal and two loads of come, but more wetness seeps out of her, her nipples always sensitive and sending a direct line of pleasure to her clit.

Darcy’s distracted, hands on her tits, when two large, strong hands grip her thighs. She inhales sharply, because she’d know them anywhere. No one else is as strong and big, and she knows she’s about to fucking ruined.

One hand disappears from her, then the fat head of a hard cock is brushing against her slick folds, coating it in the mess between her legs. She tries to tilt her hips up in invitation, but she just doesn’t have the leverage, not with how her legs are splayed open and restrained.

It doesn’t matter, because he has no interest in denying her. The wide tip presses against her aching entrance, and she opens up easily for him, cunt soft and well used. She lets out a guttural moan as he slides into her, thick cock, thickest she’s ever taken, forcing her body to make room next to the fat plug nestled in her ass.

It’’s a lot. It’s overwhelming and fucking perfect, appealing directly to the hedonistic part of her that longs to stay full and fucked out in a haze of pleasure. She rolls her nipples harder between her fingers, clenching around him and the plug inside her, dragging a groan from him.

Big hands settle at her waist, large enough that his fingers almost touch around her, then he’s fucking her with long, hard thrusts, pulling her down onto his cock. Darcy throws her head back as she cries out, knowing this is going to be loud and not caring who hears. Obscene squelching noises echo each time he fucks into her, and it just turns her on more to hear the evidence of what’s been done to her. She’s so incredibly full, body greedily taking everything, and she knows she’d take more if he offered it.

He’s told her that she’s one of the few he can take him like this, one of the few who want to be fucked hard and deep, split open on something as huge as his cock. She hadn’t quite believed him at first, how could anyone not want this? But not everyone likes being stretched wide like she does, feeling stuffed and overfull and utterly used. And he loves using her.

He easily lifts her hips, making it easier to slide even deeper into her. She gasps, thighs tensing, but she can’t wrap them around him, ankle cuffs keeping her splayed wide and anchored in place. He chuckles like he knows what she was trying to do, one hand drifting lower, finger circling her abused clit.

She’s sore and aching, but she likes it that way. He’s an expert at pulling pleasure from her, and it’s not different now, tension coiling low in her body as he drags his cock over her g-spot, his thumb circling her clit. She feels swollen and warm and can’t wait to see what a mess she’s going to be when he’s done with her, cunt starting to tighten around him as she gets closer.

“That’s it,” he rumbles, finger moving rhythmically against the side of her clit, the way he touches her when he’s ready to stop teasing her and force her body to come. “Let me feel you, little one.”

Darcy whimpers, high noises pulled from her as he fucks into her, jostling the thick plug in her ass. She’s getting closer, fingers pinching harder at her nipples, his thrusts rocking her smaller body, forcing it to accommodate him. He tilts her hips just a bit higher, brushing right over her g-spot, and that’s all it takes to push her over the edge, her orgasm rushing through her.

Darcy lets out a high mewl that breaks off into a sob, shaking in his grip as he keeps moving inside her, thick cock chasing his own release inside her spasming cunt. There’s nothing to do but take it, her pleasure being dragged out as he manipulates her pliant body, finally slamming into her as deep as possible, letting out a shout as he comes inside her.

He stays inside her longer than any of the others, cock jerking as he empties himself, adding to the mess that’s already been fucked into her, not withdrawing until he starts to soften inside her. Darcy mewls at the loss, but his hands are on her again soon, spreading her wide.

She must be red and swollen, her cunt and inner thighs smeared with come. He loves to see her like this, especially when he’s had a hand in it. His fingers trail between her legs, gathering what he can and feeding it back to her tender cunt.

He leaves her with a tiny heart traced on her inner thigh before pulling away completely.

She feels kitten-weak and extremely well used, getting close to her limit, but...not there quite yet.

Chapter Text

“Thor!” Darcy cries out as she comes, Thor’s mouth buried between her thighs, two thick fingers moving inside her.

This is the second orgasm she’s had already, and he’s in a particular kind of mood. She’d asked if he’s feeling all “godded up,” and he’d replied by throwing her to the bed and licking between her spread thighs, so she’d taken that for a yes.

Devotion to Thor has been growing. Not just on Earth, but on Asgard as well, and the boost of power it’s given him plus the amount of prayers he’s receiving this spring for fertility and a good agricultural season have ignited something in him.

“Oh god,” she moans as he withdraws his fingers from her, fingertips dragging over her g-spot.

Thor hums, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh. “I am your god, aren’t I?” he says, biting at a dark mark he’d sucked into her skin earlier. “I hear your prayers, little one. I hear what you whisper to me in the night.”

Darcy groans, her cunt twitching between her thighs as more wetness seeps out of her. She’s not sure why it does it so much for her when he’s like this, when the god part of Thor is especially strong, but she fucking loves it. It makes her wet between the thighs and want to drop to her knees and take him in her mouth.

And Thor knows she loves it. He chooses to seek her out when he’s like this not because of a lack of willing partners (he has many in this building alone) but because of how much she enjoys this, and how much he enjoys sharing this part of himself with someone who believes and wants.

Thor presses a kiss to the soft skin where her thigh meets her body, then right above her clit, her belly, kissing up her torso. He sucks a hard, sensitive nipple into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue, watching her face as she moans his name, her back arching into his touch. His large hand caresses her other breast, gently pinching her nipple as he sucks on the other, hungrily watching her as he drags pleasure from her.

Darcy threads shaking fingers through his hair, tugging lightly, trying to pull him up to her, though he seems perfectly content to stay at her tits, making her cunt throb more and more with each passing minute.

“Please,” she finally begs, voice hoarse from having his thick cock down her throat and from how much she’s shouted tonight. “Thor, fuck me, please, stop teasing…”

She can feel his grin against her breast, dragging his teeth against her nipple once more before lifting his head, crawling the rest of the way up her body, covering her with his significant bulk, and she loves that too, feeling small and safe under him. He kisses her deeply, letting her taste herself on his tongue as he runs his hands up her sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of her heavy breasts.

“I’m not teasing you, little one,” he murmurs against her lips. “You know exactly what I’ll give you. You know I’ll never deny you. You know I’ll fill your sweet little body, soft and voluptuous like you’re a fertility goddess yourself, and bless the faithful from between your thighs.”

One hand disappears from her, then the tip of Thor’s thick cock is pushing through her wet and swollen folds, pressing against her entrance. She's soft and open for him, well prepared by his hands and mouth. She whimpers his name as he slowly presses into her, still a stretch to take something as large as he is, but it’s a stretch she relishes.

Thor whispers praises in her ear as he slowly fills her, telling her she was made for this, that she takes him so well, how grateful he is to have her in his bed, how she’s blessed him with her belief and her body. She moans his name again when he starts to rock inside her, letting her adjust to him. It makes his cock jump within her, and he tells her he hears her prayers and will fill her how she craves,

Darcy doesn’t want children yet, or maybe ever, but this, the idea of impregnation, has still always been a kink of hers, and to indulge with an actual fertility god? Someone who can understand her this way like no one else ever will? He knows her stance, and he would never actually impregnate her unless she truly wanted it, but he also knows about her kink, and it’s one he happens to share.

“How perfect you would look, round and swollen with my child,” he says, lips brushing her ear as his hand falls to her belly. He rolls his hips, the drag of his thick cock inside her exquisite. “A soft, supple mother of gods and goddesses, kept full and sated.”

Darcy rocks into Thor’s thrusts, wrapping a leg up over his hip so he can fuck into her deeper, pulling a moan from both of their throats. He makes her feel hedonistic and luxurious, loved and cared for in a way she’s never experienced. It’s not average dirty talk, not even close, but it’s what does it for them, and it makes being fucked full of him even better.

Thor speeds his thrusts, and Darcy can see the need that’s been driving him is just getting stronger. She takes what he gives her eagerly, reveling in how her cunt pulses around his thick cock, how he forces her body to accommodate him, how tomorrow she’ll be sore and weak-legged, but not nearly as much as she should be from taking a god. She knows it’ll make her wet, that she’ll touch herself gently and wherever Thor is, he’ll feel it.

Thor braces a hand on the mattress next to her head as he fucks her harder, his other hand snaking between their bodies. His fingers press against the side of her hard, aching clit, exactly the spot that makes her come the fastest. He’s an expert at bringing her pleasure, at playing her body and forcing it to accept more than she thought it could.

“Thor!” she gasps, cunt beginning to tighten around him. “Oh god…”

“I know, beloved,” he growls, thrusts rocking her body. She has one hand at her breast, playing with her sensitive nipple, the other clinging to the arm braced next to her head. “I can feel you. I can always feel you. I’ll always give you what you need.”

Thor’s fingers keep their rhythm against her clit, pulling her pleasure closer and closer to the surface. His thrusts are getting more erratic as the need in him grows, chasing his release inside her willing body. Whimpers and gasps are falling from her lips, interspersed with his name as she begs for him to fill her up, to mark her, for her god to claim her.

“You are mine,” he rumbles, small jolts of electricity biting into her skin where he touches her. “Your pleasure, your sorrows, your needs, they are mine, and I will give you everything.” Her body is strung taut, on the very edge of something frightening and beautiful. He thrusts harder within her, using her harder than anyone else has, knowing she can take it. “I bless the faithful through you, beloved.”

Darcy tumbles over the edge, orgasm rushing through her like all-consuming flames. She calls out his name, shaking as her cunt flutters around him. Thor wrenches the pleasure from her body like no one else can, fucking her through it with his mouth on her throat and fingers against her clit, grunting as she digs her nails into his back.

Thor doesn’t stop, fucking into her soft and pliant body, using her as he chases his own release. His thrusts become shorter and sharper, then he’s coming with a rough gasp, thick cock jerking as he empties himself inside her. He sets his hand on her stomach as he comes, and she knows he’s picturing what she’d look like round and bred.

Thor doesn’t move, cock still nestled inside her as he presses soft kisses to her lips, their hands wandering over glistening skin. She can tell some of the godly energy that was driving him has dissipated, used to bless his faithful while he spent himself between her thighs, but it’s not gone completely. That he’s still hard inside her is testament to that.

Their kisses deepen, his hands caressing her thighs, her hips, her breasts, hers pulling him closer, shifting his cock inside her. Her breath hitches, and he grins against her lips.

“Tell me, little one,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss right under her jaw, a spot that always makes her moan. “Tell me what you want.”

He’ll stop if she says she wants nothing. He’ll press a kiss to her forehead and that will be it.

Darcy kisses him again, dragging nails down his back, making him groan, his cock jumping inside her. “More,” she says.

Chapter Text

Brock is the one with the leather kink, not Darcy. She thinks he looks fine as fuck in his leather jacket, and she thinks she looks hot in hers, but that’s really as far as it goes for her. But Brock had confessed, albeit after a few glasses of wine, that he has a thing for leather. He’d phrased it a bit more rambly than that, but that was the gist. And, well, Darcy can work with that.

She’d asked Natasha, very casually, where she should order from. (She’s seen Natasha’s closet, okay?) Natasha had grinned widely and said that there are some things you don’t order online, not when you have quality shops near you. She’d grabbed Darcy, and Jane for good measure, and whisked them out the door.

Darcy stands in the upscale dressing room, looking at herself in the mirror. The bra top is nice, but a little tighter in the chest than she’d like. She’d told Natasha when they’d walked in and she’d seen how nice this shop is that there’s no chance she can afford anything here. Natasha had told her she’s not allowed to look at price tags, had picked a dozen things for her and Jane to try, and ushered them to the dressing room.

Darcy pulls the bra off and hangs it back on up before moving on to the cupped corset. It’s gorgeous, black with gold embroidery at the hips, small gold clasps down the front and gold ties on the back, but hard to adjust herself, so she’s a bit relieved when Natasha knocks and asks if she needs any help.

“God yes, get in here,” Darcy says.

Natasha slips in through the curtain, grinning when she sees her. “I thought you’d like that one,” she says, stepping behind Darcy to deal with the ties. “Have you tried the midnight blue bustier yet?”

“No, just the bra top,” she says. “Too tight.”

“That’s a shame,” Natasha says. She adjusts the laces until it’s snug but not too tight and Darcy can breathe perfectly.

“Damn,” Darcy says, turning to see herself from all angles. “Okay, I can admit I like this.”

“Good. You’re going to blow his mind,” Natasha says. “Tell him I’ll make his excuses if he ends up breaking a hip in the sex marathon you’re about to have.”

“Natasha?” Jane calls from the next room over. “Got a sec? I don’t have enough hands.”

“Sure,” Natasha says, sending a wink Darcy’s way before slipping out of the dressing room.

Darcy ends up buying the corset and the midnight blue bustier. Well, Tony ends up buying. Natasha doesn’t feel bad in the slightest for liberating his credit card, buying Darcy’s items and the corset and bra top Jane finds (Darcy is positive that Thor’s going to go wild).

When Brock knocks on her door that night, she’s ready. She’s wearing the corset, black panties, and a black and gold pair of heels that she has that just happen to match perfectly. Her hair is left wild and curly, his favorite and hers. The lights are dimmed, two battery-powered pillar candles lit on the table she’d set for later. She’s going for a nice ambiance, and she thinks she does all right.

After checking to make sure no one is in the hall with him, Darcy opens the door. For a long moment, Brock just stares, expression unreadable as he takes in what she’s wearing. He locks gazes with her, eyes dark, then he’s surging forward, yanking her into his arms and kicking her door closed behind him.

Her back hits the door as he kisses her roughly, strong hands tight on her waist. She wraps her arms around him, kissing him back, whimpering into his mouth when he slots a thigh between her legs.

He rests his forehead against her, breaking the kiss. “Fuck, princess,” he says, hands tracing the lines of the corset. “When did you get this?”

“Today,” she says, fingers finding the buttons of his shirt. He shrugs out of it impatiently, eager to get his hands back on her. She grins. “I take it you approve.”

He presses his thigh against her center harder, making her whimper. “Baby, you have no fucking idea,” he growls, then he’s grabbing her under the thighs and lifting her. She wraps her legs around his waist, nipping and sucking at his neck as he carries her down the hall to her room, tossing her onto the bed.

Brock’s looking down at her hungrily, taking a moment to just stare at her before crawling onto the bed, running his hands up her legs. He spreads her thighs wide, thumbs brushing over the wet center of her panties before tugging them down.

Before she can say anything else, Brock’s burying his mouth between her legs. His stubble’s rough against her inner thighs, but she doesn’t care, not when he moves his tongue like that. He slides a finger into her, then a second when he finds she’s wet enough.

He’s looking up at her, eyes traveling over the corset, over how it accentuates her tits, the contrast against her skin. She never feels unattractive to him, far from it, but there’s something different about how he’s watching her, tongue undulating against her hard little clit, that she wouldn’t mind seeing again.

Brock crooks his fingers inside her, pressing against her g-spot, and her eyes flutter closed. She starts rocking against his face, and he knows that means she’s close, humming against her as he keeps his pace. Darcy cries out when she comes against his tongue, thighs trembling on either side of his head.

The bottom half of his face is wet when he raises his head, that hungry look still on his face. She props herself up on her elbows and watches with a grin as he strips off his jeans and boxer briefs, cock hard and red.

“How do you want me, commander?” she asks, thinking he might want to fuck her from behind to see the back of the corset. She’s wrong though.

“Just like this, princess,” he says, crawling onto the bed until he’s kneeling in the cradle of her thighs, erection pressed against her wet center. His eyes are on her tits and yeah, that makes sense.

Brock notches the tip on his cock at her entrance, slowly sliding into her wet cunt. She rocks into his slow thrusts, biting her lip as his hands roam over the leather corset. He traces the panels over her hips, the lines of the boning, the leather where it meets her breasts. She always feels sexy when he looks at her, but she definitely likes the expression on his face now.

He leans over, nipping at the swell of her breasts above the cups of the corset, biting marks into her skin that’ll take days to fade. He snakes a hand between their bodies, his fingers circling her hard little clit as he fucks into her, his speed increasing.

She can tell he’s getting close, his hand tightening on her waist, his thrusts getting shorter and faster. She squeezes around him, encouraging him to let go, but he’s determined to get her off again first, keeping his fingers on her clit until her pleasure is swelling to a crest, flowing through her as she comes around him, back arched and mouth open.

“Fuck.” Brock curses under his breath and fucks her faster, chasing his own release until he’s coming too, rocking into her until his cock stops twitching inside her.

Brock collapses half to the side, half on top of her, resting his forehead against hers as they both wait to get their breath back. His fingers trail down the top of the corset, tracing where the leather meets her skin.

“You’re killing me here,” he says. “That’s completely unfair. What’s a man supposed to do when you open the door looking like that?”

“He’s supposed to fuck me senseless and be glad I ordered takeout instead of cooking,” she says, grinning.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Chapter Text

“You’re sure about this?” he asks her for at least the eighth time.

“Yes, Stephen, I’m sure,” Darcy says.

It’s nice of him to make sure she’s good with this, but really, if the choice is between her mild embarrassment and creating a magical barrier between their world and a collapsing dimension, she’ll take some embarrassment.

She’d met Dr. Strange when he’d come to the tower for a consultation of some sort with Tony (she really hadn’t been paying attention, busy chasing Clint), and it turns out her “magical energy” is “perfect for channeling.” She doesn’t get the nitty gritty, but the spell he wants her help with involves “the pleasure of the focus.”

Darcy’s standing in the middle of the room in Strange’s Sanctum Sanctorum, wearing only a bathrobe, and staring with interest at the runes glowing on the floor around her. When he’d explained it to her, his ears had been distinctly red, and he did a very good job at explaining it detachedly, but she’d seen him glance at her chest and ass when he thought she wasn’t looking.

Stephen (she told him that if she’s sleeping with him, she’s calling him Stephen) walks into the glowing circle, an open book floating at his side. He conjures a large deep red chaise lounge, motioning for her to sit.

Darcy lets her robe drop, feeling very much like she’s reenacting the “Draw me like one of your French girls” scene, and sits on the chaise, raising her eyebrows as she waits for him to join her. He’s wearing a simple pair of pants and t-shirt for once, and even that disappears as he kneels in front of the chaise, tugging at her legs until she’s half lying with him between her spread thighs.

Stephen’s staring at her hungrily, and before she can comment on it, he’s licking up her slit. Darcy gasps, reaching down to tangle a hand in his hair. He may be arrogant, but he sure fucking knows what he’s doing. He explores her folds like a man on a mission to find what makes her go wild, licking and sucking and nibbling at her until she’s dripping against his tongue.

Stephen slowly rolls his tongue against her clit as he slides a finger into her. She whimpers as he crooks it inside her, grinning against her cunt when he finds her g-spot. He slides a second finger into her, moving them faster against her g-spot, his tongue finding a quick rhythm against her clit.

She’s close already, thighs starting to tremble on either side of his face. He looks up at her, a mischievous look in his eye, then gold is sparking from the hand resting on her thigh, tingling against her skin. It takes a second, but then she feels it inside her, his fingers tingling with magic against her g-spot.

Darcy comes with a ragged gasp, thighs tight against his ears as he pulls the pleasure from her body. He doesn’t stop, keeping his fingers in her and tongue moving against her clit until her thighs go limp, cunt twitching around his fingers. He pulls them out slowly, licking them clean as she watches.

Stephen crooks his fingers in the air, and the open book glides closer, hovering near him. Darcy had been planning on going on her hands and knees, but seeing the way he stares at her tits, well, she has a feeling he’ll like this better. She lies down on the chaise, spreading her legs wide, showing off her wet cunt.

Stephen crawls up her body, cock hard between his thighs. He’s not overly thick, but he’s long, and she has a feeling that curve is going to feel fantastic. The book hovers closer, but he only glances at it before kneeling between her thighs, guiding the tip of his cock to her swollen entrance. She bites her lips and looks up at him, breathing hard.

He’d used magic to make her come. He’d used magic in foreplay. She has a feeling she’s going to love what he does while he’s fucking her.

Stephen slowly presses into her, watching her face as he goes. Darcy moans when the tip drags against her g-spot, rolling her hips to take him deeper. He takes that for the permission it is, fucking her with long, slow thrusts, slowly building the pleasure inside her.

Darcy takes her tits in her hands, rolling her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers. He curses, then mutters under her breath, words she can’t make out, then that gold is appearing around his hands where they’re grasping her waist. He drags them up her body, leaving a tingling trail, before gently pushing her hands away, taking her breasts in his hands.

Darcy whines, arching her back into the touch. Everywhere his hands touch feels like it’s tingling, nearly vibrating with pleasure. She starts tightening up around him already, need drawing higher in her as he plays with her sensitive nipples.

He starts fucking faster into her, glancing up at the book and reading words in a language she doesn’t know, but it makes gold runes appear on her arms, then her chest, sternum, belly. Gold chains of symbols curl around her legs, and each symbol that appears makes her arousal grow, like each is yanking more and more pleasure to the surface.

Stephen is slamming into her now, her legs wrapped around his waist to keep her from being pushed farther up the chaise. Something big, bigger than her orgasm, is building inside her, strong and fierce. He drops a hand between her legs, glowing golden fingers fluttering against the side of her clit.

“Stephen!” Darcy gasps, right on the edge. He hadn’t said she’s supposed to wait, but if his spell isn’t done…

“You can come,” he says in a rumbling voice, keeping his rhythm steady, though he’s tensing above her. He drops his mouth to her breast. “Let me feel you come,” he growls into her skin, then he’s sucking a hard nipple into his mouth.

Darcy comes again with a cry, her orgasm wrenched from her body by his hands and mouth and cock and magic. It swirls through her, her body a conduit for the magical energy, pleasure swelling and rushing through her as Stephen moves inside her.

He’s muttering fast, as if he’s outrunning his own orgasm, gasping the last word right before coming, cock flexing inside her. Bright light flashes from her chest outward as soon as he finishes speaking, magical energy bursting free and echoing out around them.

Darcy’s wrapped around him, body trembling. His face is buried in her throat as he catches his breath, running a soothing hand up and down her arm. She feels wrung out in the best possible way, and knows that she definitely wants to do this again.

Chapter Text

This time, Darcy seeks Brock out before even going to the Obsidian. Tony mentions that Brock would be in today, so at lunch, she heads up to the office he sometimes uses. The door’s open, but she knocks on the door frame anyway, not walking in yet. Brock looks up at her knock, eyebrows raised slightly, as if he’s surprised to see her. She wonders if he’d expected her to pretend he doesn’t exist at work.

“Hey,” she says. “You have a second?”

“Sure,” he says, leaning back from the laptop in front of him.

Darcy steps into the office, closing and locking the door behind her. This would be an awkward time for someone with no boundaries to just come barging in. She doubts people try to pull that with him, but you never know.

Darcy takes the chair across the desk from him, sitting relaxed. “Have plans tomorrow night?” she asks.

He immediately understands, grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Nothing important,” he says. “What do you have in mind?”

“You seem like the kind of guy who’s good with a flogger,” she says, eyeing the way his black t-shirt clings to his biceps. “The kind who can hit hard without actually injuring.” She looks up at his eyes, glad to see he looks interested. She figured he would be, but you never know. Some people just aren’t about impact play. “Is that something you’d be interested in?”

His eyes are dark as he looks at her, nodding slowly. “You have no idea how interested I am, princess,” he says, his voice going deeper, a tone she’s only heard at the Obsidian. “If you have one you’d like me to use, I’d like to see it beforehand to get used to it,” he says. “If you don’t have a preference, I’d like to use one of mine.”

She shifts in her chair, starting to tingle a bit between the thighs. It’s just that now she’s thinking about what kind of collection he has at home. What does he own besides floggers? What else would he use on her? She’s also pleased at how seriously he takes it since she has definitely met some people who hadn’t at all.

“I’m happy to use yours,” she says. “Material?”

“I have a double-tailed suede if you want sting and thud, or bull leather and a braided leather if you want something with more impact,” he says.

She loves to be right. He absolutely knows his way around a flogger. “Let’s go with suede this time,” she says. “Though I do like the sound of your braided leather.”

“It’s not for beginners,” he says. “But I have a feeling that’s not you.”

“Not remotely,” she says with a grin, standing up. “Tomorrow at eight?”

“I’ll pick you up,” he says, which is a bit surprising but works for her.

“See you then.”

Brock’s SUV is big and black, which is not shocking in the slightest. He’s wearing a tight black shirt, dark jeans, and dark boots, also not shocking, but they’re nicer than the style he wears to work. He hands her the flogger when she sits down so she can feel it and make sure it’s good with her. She pulls up the hem of her wine red dress over her thigh, hitting herself lightly with it. Oh yeah, this is going to be good.

Pete the bouncer is working the door and sends her wink when Brock pays for both of them. She rolls her eyes and tells him to mind his business, but gives him a high five as she passes.

The Obsidian is a bit more crowded than she’d expected for a Thursday night, but not to the point where she feels claustrophobic. Brock weaves through the crowd, her hand held tightly in his, until they find an area near the alcoves that’s free. It has a few armchairs facing a soft padded bench, and that’ll work nicely.

Brock drops his bag next to it and steps into her space, hands on her waist. He kisses her gently, hand snaking around to her back, fingers finding the zipper of her dress. Deepening the kiss, he pulls it slowly down her back, the air feeling a bit cool against her skin.

She pulls back so she can step out of the dress, leaving her in her sparkling heels, a very sheer lace cage bra with straps criss crossing over her chest, and a matching pair of panties. His eyes are heated as they travel over her, though he eventually manages to drag his gaze to meet hers.

“Hands and knees, princess,” he says, his voice getting close to that rumble she knows so well now.

A few people, including Brittany and Alexis, are already gathering to watch. Alexis had told her that whatever they do always ends up being hot as hell, so people want to watch. That’s good with her, getting a little thrill from the exhibitionism, especially with someone as fucking attractive and good in bed as Brock.

Darcy turns slowly, giving him plenty of time to watch her hips sway as she walks to the bench. It has a padded surface for her torso to rest on and wide padded ledges on each side for her arms and legs. It’s not as adjustable as the one she’s had her eye on, but it’ll work for this.

She drapes herself over the bench, front of her body pressed to the padded surface, adjusting her hands and knees until she’s comfortable. She’s still wearing her sparkly heels for this, having noticed the way he’d stared earlier.

Brock steps close behind her, draping the tails of the flogger over her back and dragging them down slowly, so she can feel the softness of the tails against her skin. It disappears from her back, then comes down again the left side of her ass with a softly stinging thud. It makes her breath hitch, even though it’s not a particularly hard hit, because she can feel the potential.

Brock starts her off slowly with light hits on her upper shoulders, her ass, the backs of her thighs, avoiding the spine, hips, and kidney areas. Her skin feels warm and tingly, a nice gentle throbbing starting between her thighs, and she knows this is just her warmup.

Brock hits her one last time on the upper shoulder, leaving the flogger’s tails resting on her back before slowly trailing it down her spine before it lifts all together. For a long moment, he does nothing, and Darcy has to remind herself to breathe. Then he brings the flogger down hard on her ass, the stinging thud drawing a loud gasp from her.

It’s, oh, it’s good. He does it again on the other side, alternating back and forth before moving to her shoulders, then to her thighs. He keeps a steady rhythm at first, working her up until she’s slick between the thighs, gasping and whimpering as his hits land.

As soon as she gets used to it, he changes it up, hard, shorter swats hitting her thighs, even harder thuds against her ass, stinging slaps to her shoulders. He changes tempo and strength, never letting her get used to one speed or intensity for long.

He is by far the best who’s done this to her. They’d talked about her pain tolerance, what she wants, what she doesn’t, and there’s honestly not a damn thing she would change. Her cunt is soaked and throbbing between her thighs, her need increasing with each hit.

He’d been right about his suede; this is the perfect mix of sting and thud. She still wants to try the leather at some point, but right now this is exactly what she’s craving, her skin radiating heat and an extremely pleasant tingling sensation from wherever he’s flogged her. She’s beginning to get that soft floaty feeling that happens to her with good impact play, bliss gently rolling through her.

Darcy’s cries are nearly continuous now, soft, high-pitched noises interspersed with gasps of “yes” and curses under her breath. Her panties are soaked between her thighs, and it’s taking all her willpower not to start grinding against the bench. When she comes, she wants it to be from him.

Brock’s flogger hits hard over her ass, the sting spreading wide, and that’s all she can take, arching her back and gasping out, “Please!”

“Please what, princess?” he asks, gently trailing the tails of the flogger down her back, making her shiver as they pass over her hot skin.

“Please let me come,” she says, voice shaky. “Please, I—please…”

He seems to get that words are hard at the moment and doesn’t push for more. He sets the flogger down and gently runs his hands up the backs of her thighs, feeling cool and rough against her skin. His thumb brushes over the soaked crotch of her panties, for a moment just rubbing until she whines, pushing back against his hand.

Brock chuckles and relents, pulling her panties down to midthigh. He swears under his breath when he sees how wet she is, hands framing her throbbing cunt for a long moment, then his mouth is between her thighs. Darcy gasps, pressing into the touch without thinking. She hadn’t expected that, had assumed he’d just use his fingers, but he’s devouring her like she’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

The stubble of his beard is rough against her inner thighs, but that just makes it better. He slips two fingers into her, curving them to press against her g-spot, and closes his lips around her clit, sucking gently. Darcy comes with a sob, trembling as pleasure floods her body, her cunt fluttering around Brock’s fingers. He doesn’t stop, dragging as much pleasure as he can from her until she’s going limp, breathing hard.

He murmurs her name, large hand cupping her face, and she pushes into the touch, humming in response. She feels fantastic, hazy and warm and safe whenever he touches her. She feels him pull her panties back up, then he’s gently helping her up, her smaller body held tightly against his.

There are other voices around them and noises from the rest of the club, but it’s easy to tune them out, focusing on the heat and tingling where he’d flogged her and the soft touches as he guides them to a nearby armchair, pulling her into his lap. He wraps his arms around her, cradling her close. She just cuddles in closer, pressing her face against his neck.

She’s not out of it enough that she can’t recognize she’s floating in subspace, feeling blissfully unburdened as he rubs gentle hands over her, his lips pressed against her temple as he murmurs soothing words under his breath. She’d wanted to keep her bra and panties on for this reason, knowing there was a good chance she’d feel this and wanting to be at least covered a bit while being so vulnerable.

Darcy comes down slowly, the haze of euphoria gently easing until she feels a bit more solid. She hums again, pressing a kiss to his throat before pulling back enough to look up at him. He smiles down at her, scritching his fingers against her scalp.

“If you keep doing that, my leg is gonna jerk like a dog’s,” she says, voice throaty.

Brock laughs, switching to massaging the base of her skull, and well damn, that feels nice too. “How’re you feeling?” he asks. “Any pain?”

“I’m feeling so good,” Darcy says, shifting a bit as she takes inventory of her body. “No bad pain. Just the kind I asked for.”

“Good,” he says, tiling her face up and kissing her. “Are you interested in staying, or can I bring you back to my place where we can be alone and have soft surfaces?”

“I mean, soft surfaces are very tempting…” she teases.

“I am prepared to bribe you with pasta and a lotion rubdown,” he says, just barely brushing her warm shoulder.

“I mean, I’d never say no to that,” she says, gingerly climbing out of his lap. “But I’m easy, my dude. I’d have said yes just for you.”

Chapter Text

Bucky’s the only one that’s seen Darcy in a few months. She and Jane had been in London working with someone Jane had gone to grad school with and helping Jane’s mom after her hip surgery. Bucky had volunteered to go along as security since Thor was offworld.

So now that they’re back in New York, out of the guys in the tower tonight, Bucky’s the only one that’s seen the new tattoo. He’d fucked her wild as soon as it was healed enough, bending her over the kitchen table and roughly fucking into her, his hand right below it.

Brock, Rollins, and Clint had planned a little welcome back get together in one of the common rooms on the restricted floor. The one Tony had filled with sex furniture, because he’s a depraved little monster, and so are the rest of them. Jane had been invited too, but Thor showed up and whisked her away, so it would be just them and Darcy.

“Tony, Steve, and Natasha wanted to come, but they got an emergency call up north and could be gone a while,” Bucky says as they walk down the hall to the common area. They’d landed a bit ago and she’d taken the time to shower. If she was going to get fucked within an inch of her life, she’d rather it happen without the smell of airplane on her. “They could be back early though.”

“I’ll have my hands full with the four of you,” she says.

Bucky gives her a knowing look. “I’ve seen you take much more than just us, doll,” he says. She’s not sure which time he’s talking about, but he’s definitely not wrong.

Jack, Brock, and Clint are already in the common area when she and Bucky get there. Clint’s fancy basket of lube is on the coffee table, making her grin.

“I’ve missed your ridiculous lube basket,” Darcy says.

“It’s missed you,” Clint says. “Five months is way too long.”

“Should have volunteered for babysitting duty,” Darcy says with a grin, stepping into his space. His hands automatically rest on her hips, fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt to brush against her skin. “Bucky got months of exclusive access.”

“That means he’s at the end of the line tonight,” Clint says, then he’s pressing his lips to hers, hands running up her back under her shirt.

Darcy kisses him back, pressing the front of her body against his. Having Bucky’s mouth between her thighs and cock deep inside her had been wonderful, but she’s missed the feeling of being so utterly used that she gets here.

Clint deftly unhooks her bra under her shirt, then pulls back enough to tug the shirt over her head and drop her bra to the ground. There’s a sharp inhale from behind her, then a warm hand is resting on her lower back.

“What’s this, princess?” Brock says, voice low.

Clint hums in curiosity, and Darcy grins, turning around so they all can see her back. The tattoo spans from the top of her shoulders and base of her neck down two thirds of her back. It’s a gorgeous solar system with the sun in the center and plants surrounding it, their orbits shown not by plain lines, but by beaded lines like jewelry. Strands of gems are draped between the planets on the bottom of the piece like elegant garland, a long strand of beads and gems hanging down the middle of her spine, two others on either side of it.

She loves it, she’s extremely proud, and by the looks on their faces when she looks over her shoulder at them, they’re fans too. Clint spins her back around, yanking her to him in a bruising kiss while Brock’s rough hands run down her back over the healed tattoo. His thumbs hook in the waistband of her leggings, tugging them down, her panties following soon after.

Clint walks backward with her toward the large sectional, his mouth never leaving hers. He only pulls back to lie down on the sectional, coaxing her to straddle his face.

It had taken her a bit to be comfortable with this, worried about suffocating someone (Ian had made it clear that wasn’t how he wanted to die), but they’d all assured her that they’re more than capable of moving her if they needed to, manhandling her enough that she’d believed them, and now sitting on their faces is one of her favorite things.

Darcy lowers herself until her cunt is over Clint’s face, his hands wrapped around her soft thighs. He pulls her down lower, burying his mouth between her legs. Darcy moans as he moves his tongue against her. He never misses an opportunity to eat her out, something she’s forever grateful for.

She sees Jack in her peripheral vision, stroking his hard cock, and reaches out to him with a whimper. Jack comes closer, eyes dark as he watches her. As soon as he’s close enough, Darcy wraps a hand around his cock, stroking him slowly. He groans, dragging a hand through her hair, grabbing a handful as she licks a line up his cock.

“Christ, darling,” he says, accent always getting thicker the more aroused he gets.

Darcy doesn’t answer, just slowly takes his long cock into her mouth, whimpering around him as Clint slides a finger into her. It’s hard to concentrate with his talented mouth between her legs, but she’s gotten some practice at this since coming to live in the tower, managing to lick and suck Jack’s cock while rocking against Clint’s face.

There’s the click she knows well, the sound of a lube bottle being opened, then a slick finger is dipping between her ass cheeks, circling her tight pucker. She moans around Jack, thighs tensing on either side of Clint’s face, but she doesn’t stop, taking Jack as deep into her throat as she can.

Jack swears, starting to rock a little into her mouth. She hums around him, bobbing her head faster, hoping he knows he’s more than welcome to fuck her face. Bucky’s watching them, taking a seat farther down the sectional from where she’s kneeling, which means it’s Brock’s finger sinking into her ass, and that’s not surprising.

Clint gets a second finger in her the same time Brock does. It must be an awkward angle, but he manages to crook his fingers against her g-spot as Brock scissors his fingers inside her, stretching her wider. She moans around Jack’s cock, rocking against Clint’s face, forcing Brock’s fingers deeper into her.

Jack hisses, cock twitching on her tongue, and he begins to thrust into her mouth. She moans around him, hoping to encourage him, and he takes her up on that, fucking harder into her mouth. She hadn’t been able to do this when they first started, his cock one of the longer ones she takes, but she’d spent a lot of time trying to train that gag reflex away, and now she can take him deep in her throat, swallowing around him.

Brock adds a third finger to her ass and her breath hitches. It’s getting harder to focus on what she’s doing, but Jack isn't looking for finesse from her right now. She manages to press her tongue up against his cock as he fucks her face, moaning around him as Clint rolls his tongue against her clit, tired of teasing.

Jack tugs her hair, warning her he’s close, but she doesn’t pull away. His hand tightens as he thrusts in one last time, coming down her throat. Darcy breathes through her nose but can’t stop whimpering around him at what Brock and Clint are doing to her.

Jack pulls back, his cock slipping from her mouth, right as Clint starts moving his tongue quicker against her. She whines, gasping as Brock spreads his fingers in her, pressing against Clint’s through the thin wall inside her. She’s so very close, thighs tense on either side of Clint’s face.

Jack’s taken a seat a foot away from Bucky, both of them looking like damn models. Bucky’s cock is hard between his thighs, and he’s stroking it slowly with his eyes on her. He grins when Clint presses harder against her g-spot making her gasp and rock harder against his face. She’s so, so close, it’s just a few more flicks of Clint’s tongue before she’s coming with a shudder, body clenching around the fingers inside her as her pleasure rolls through her.

Brock pulls his fingers free of her, wiping them on a towel from Clint’s lube basket, then he’s lifting her around the waist, holding her against his body while Clint scoots back a bit on the couch until his hard cock is beneath her.

“We’ve been waiting for this, princess,” Brock murmurs in her ear as she braces herself on Clint’s chest, the tip of his cock at her opening. “There’s just nothing like being inside your sweet little body.”

Clint pulls her down by the hips, cock slowly filling her until she’s taken all of him, cunt still twitching from her orgasm. Brock’s hand slides up her spine, bending her forward until her chest is pressed to Clint’s. A moment later, the bulbous head of his cock is slowly pushing into her ass. She opens easily for him, used to be taken this way, but it’s still a lot to have his thick cock sinking into her, nestled next to Clint’s, stretching her wide.

“Fuck,” she gasps, nails digging into Clint’s chest. He hisses under her, cock jumping inside her. She takes a deep breath, sitting up a bit more, Brock wrapping an arm around her stomach. “I’m ready,” she says, rocking her hips against them.

Brock groans, tightening his grip on her, then he’s fucking into her, thrusts long and sharp. Clint finds a rhythm that matches his, fucking up into her dripping cunt, and there no leverage for her at all, all she can do it take what they give her.

Darcy loves being stuffed full, loves feeling them move inside her, chasing their pleasure from her willing body. Brock’s hand around her middle drifts up, squeezing at her breast. She whines, arching her back into the touch, letting out a shuddering breath when he rolls her nipple between his fingers.

Clint’s fingers find her hard little clit, pressing against the side while he bounces her on his cock, and even though she’s already come, she’s already starting to tighten around them. They know her body well, and know exactly how to pull pleasure from her.

Brock pinches her aching nipple, his cock slamming into her, dragging against Clint’s. She’s getting lost in their hands and mouths on her, in Clint’s fingers against her clit and the wet noises their cocks make as they move in her. Her pleasure swells into a crest, then her orgasm rolls over her in a wave, her body clenching around the cocks still moving inside her. Darcy lets out a ragged cry, clinging to Brock’s arm around her as she shakes apart.

Neither of them stop, fucking up into her spasming holes as they chase their own orgasms. She loves it, loves being used, loves her pliant body being manipulated by them until they’re coming deep inside her, Clint first, followed by Brock.

Brock presses a kiss to her shoulder, right over where Mars is inked, then he’s pulling out. A moment later, she’s lifted off Clint, whimpering as he slides out of her, followed by a trail of his come.

They position her on her hands and knees on the sectional, then Bucky’s hands are on her hips, the tip of his cock dragging through the mess between her thighs. She whimpers, rocking back, the head sliding into her a couple inches. Bucky tightens his grip on her, hissing her name, then slowly slides into her soft cunt.

Bucky fucks her roughly, knowing that when she’s like this, she wants to feel completely used. She wants to be a sloppy mess, fucked out and incapable of speech beyond whimpers and gasps for more. He slams into her, her body jolting with each thrust. His mouth trails down her back, biting and sucking dark marks into her skin in between planets of her tattoo.

Darcy can see Jack still sitting down the couch, his cock already hardening again. He’s watching the way Bucky fucks into her, how her tits sway with the motion, his eyes hungry. Her eyes flutter shut when Bucky’s finger moves against her clit, making her tighten up around him.

“God,” she whines, arching her back, taking him even deeper.

“That’s it, doll,” Bucky says, tilting her hips up. She gasps at the angle change. “Let me feel that pretty little cunt.”

Darcy’s just easy, okay? She likes sex, she likes having sex with multiple people, and they all know how to play with her by now. She likes how easily they can manipulate her body, making her come more than she’d thought was possible.

Bucky slaps her ass twice in quick succession, the shock of pain making her tighten around him, cunt throbbing between her thighs, and that’s all it takes for her to come again. It’s a weaker orgasm than before since she’s just come, but it lasts longer, a low level of pleasure settling inside her while Bucky continues to use her weak body until he’s coming, adding to the mess Clint left inside her.

Jack’s there as soon as Bucky pulls out, sliding his long cock into her. He goes in easily, her cunt wet and soft from so much use. He runs a hand up the tattoo on her back, and she’d had a feeling he and Brock would be the most appreciative of that. He traces the lines of the orbits as he slowly rocks into her with obscene squelching noises that just turn her on even more. She knows that when he has her for an extended period of time, his mouth is going to be all over her back.

Jack doesn’t use her quite as brutally as Bucky had, but it’s close. She drops to her elbows, arms unable to hold up her trembling body any longer. His hands are tight on her hips, keeping her lower body in the air as he fucking into her messy cunt, come and her own wetness seeping out of her and dripping onto the couch.

She doesn’t think she can come again, but it still feels wonderful. She knows she’s going to be swollen and red between the thighs, four loads of come dripping out of her. She’ll be cleaned up gently and held, and one of them, probably Brock, will draw the two of them a bath while she floats, feeling sore and fantastic.

Jack’s thrusts speed up, her body jolting with each movement. He slaps her ass like Bucky did, drawing whimpers when it makes her clench around him. God, she’s missed this. It’s only a few minutes later Jack’s coming inside her for the second time, adding a final load to her abused cunt.

Gentle hands maneuver her until she’s lying tucked against someone’s chest, someone else cleaning between her thighs. She cuddles in closer, recognizing the smell of Brock’s cologne as he drags a hand up and down her spine. There are soft voices from Bucky and Clint, which means it’s Jack cleaning between her legs. In a few minutes they’ll move her, but right now she’s just basking into the afterglow.

Chapter Text

It’s rare that they’re all in the same building at the same time, and they’re taking shameless advantage. They’re in the room filled with sex furniture where Darcy had been fucked by Brock, Jack, and Bucky a couple weeks ago, the sound of skin on skin and moans filling the room.

Jane is straddling Bruce with Tony against her back, their cocks snug inside her. For someone so small, she can take a lot. She’d have to be able to with how often she fucks Thor and his giant cock. Bruce’s hands are tight on her waist as he fucks up into her, matching his rhythm with Tony in her ass.

Darcy is on her hands and knees on the soft white rug on the ground, facing Natasha who’s mirroring her position. They’d been sloppily kissing while Natasha was straddling Steve’s face and Bucky had his mouth buried between Darcy’s thighs, but now they’re clinging to each other’s hand as they’re fucked from behind, not wanting to bump teeth.

Bucky’s hands are tight on Darcy’s hips as he fucks her with long, slow thrusts. She tries to rock back against him, urging him to be quicker, but he’s taking his time, leisurely fucking her while she whines for more. In front of her, Steve is slamming into Natasha, her smaller body jolting with every thrust. She’s moaning loudly and unreservedly, her expression hazy with pleasure.

Bucky finally gives in, fucking Darcy harder and faster until she’s letting out a long moan, stuttered by his brutal thrusts. He reaches between her legs, fingers circling her hard little clit. Darcy sobs out in gratitude. He’s been teasing her for so long that she’s desperate, body teetering on the edge of orgasm.

Darcy comes right before Natasha, both of them gasping and moaning as pleasure rushes through them. Neither Steve nor Bucky stop, fucking into them hard and fast, taking their pleasure as their cunts spasm and clench around them. Bucky slams into Darcy a handful of times more, then he’s going still, buried deep inside her as he comes, cock jerking as he empties himself.

Steve takes a bit longer, Natasha gasping, grip tight on Darcy’s hand as her body is used, but he finally comes inside her, yanking her back onto his cock as he fills her up.

Clint and Maria are on one of the curved chaise lounges, Maria bouncing on his cock. She rides him hard, slick noises from between her thighs as he holds her waist tightly. She and Sharon have been in Europe for a month, and she’s missed this. She and Sharon would fuck, and often, but this is still something they’ve both been craving

Nearby, Sharon’s on all fours on a low sex couch, Brock fucking into her from behind, three fingers opening up her ass as she blows Jack, whimpering around his cock. She’s been craving this as much as Maria, missing the feeling of talented cocks moving inside her.

“She’s ready,” Brock growls, pulling his fingers from her.

Jack pulls out of her mouth, making Sharon pout, but then they’re shifting her, Brock sitting on the couch, leaning against the back as he lowers Sharon onto his cock again, her wet cunt swallowing him easily. She arches her back and leans forward, giving Jack easier access as he presses the tip of his long cock against her wet hole.

Brock leans forward, sucking one of her nipples into his mouth right as Jack glides into her, a throaty moan falling from her lips. Brock and Jack, always so in sync, move in her at the same time, making sure she’s never empty. She whimpers and tries to rock into their thrusts, but they hold her steady, forcing her to take what they give her. They can feel their cocks dragging against each other, separated only by that thin wall inside her.

Thor had been watching from the sidelines, stroking his intimidating cock while staring at Jane being split open on Tony and Bruce, then his gaze landing on where Darcy was being fucked by Bucky. As soon as Bucky comes, pulling out to look at his come dripping out of her, Thor moves.

Darcy sees him coming, grinning when he gets close. She pushes herself up onto her knees as he steps in front of her, running her hands up his strong thighs. His cock is hard against his belly, and her cunt throbs between her thighs, eager to feel him.

She licks up his shaft, swirling her tongue over the head before slowly swallowing him down. Darcy’s gag reflex is nearly nonexistent at this point, but Thor is still just long and thick enough that she can’t fit all of him in her mouth, though she takes him as deep in her throat as possible. She licks and sucks at him slowly, hand working the base of his cock that she can’t fit in her mouth, the other hand caressing his heavy balls.

Thor rumbles in pleasure, threading his fingers in her hair and holding tight. He’s a fan of her mouth and has spent many nights with her on her knees between his spread legs, bouncing on a vibrating dildo as she sucks him off. But he also loves being buried between her thighs, and that’s what he seems to want tonight, pulling back until his cock is withdrawing from her mouth.

She knows what he’s thinking, taking his hand as he pulls her up and leads her to the sectional, down a few feet from where Jane is sitting on Tony’s face, Pepper working a heavy jeweled plug into her ass.

Darcy lies on her back, opening her legs wide for Thor. He reaches between her thighs, thumbs spreading her labia wide so he can stare at her messy cunt. She’s wet from her own arousal and from Bucky’s come slowly seeping out of her, and she knows that’s not nearly enough for Thor. He likes her red and swollen between the thighs, cunt achy and fucked out and leaking multiple loads of come, and he seems happy to help her get there.

Thor notches the head of his thick cock at her opening and presses forward, watching her slowly stretch open around him. He’s always loved that, watching how her hungry cunt swallows him. She’s far from the only one that fucks Thor, but he’s often commented on how she’s the best at taking him, as if her body was made for him.

“Oh god,” Darcy groans as he bottoms out inside her, hips pressed flush against the back of her thighs. Thor’s cock twitches inside her at that, eyes burning into her. She says god like a prayer to him, and he always feels it, though it’s not something they tend to share around anyone else, save Jane.

Thor rocks into her slowly, taking his time to open up her cunt. Bucky’s the only other one that’s fucked her so far, and while his cock is definitely thick, no one’s as thick as Thor, and though she and Thor both like it brutally rough, he always makes sure she can take it, the idea of truly hurting her repulsive to him.

Darcy whimpers, rocking her hips with his slow thrusts as it becomes easier, her cunt stretching around him. She lets out soft little noises, one hand at her breast, the other sliding down her body to grasp at his wrist. He lifts his fingers, threading them with hers as he rocks harder into her, tightening his other hand’s grip on her waist.

He speeds up when he knows she’s ready, his strokes still long, but harder and quicker. Darcy moans happily at the change of pace, her body rocking with his thrusts.

Farther down the couch, Jane cries out, thighs shaking on either side of Tony’s face. Pepper has her stretched wide on the plug, watching her hole struggle around it. On the couch across from them, Sam is on his knees between Natasha’s legs, his mouth buried in her cunt. Judging by the noises she’s making, whatever Sam’s doing works for her.

Thor ups his speed again, his grip tight on her hip. He lets go of her hand to bring it to her clit, pressing rhythmically against it as he tilts her hips up with his other hand. It changes the angle, lets him slide in deeper, making her cry out as his cock drags against her g-spot. Her orgasm is building steadily inside her, tension coiling deep in her lower belly.

Bright little sparks dance at his fingertips against her skin, making her whimper, her body starting to shake. She fucking loves it when he does that, when he uses something that marks him as Other, and More than the others when he uses her. The bite of the electricity against her skin brings her even closer.

His fingers speed up on her clit, her moans turning into high-pitched mewls as he drags her closer and closer to the edge. Then she’s coming with a gasp of his name, cunt rippling around his cock as her pleasure shoots through her like lightning. Thor rumbles in approval, cock jumping as she cries out with his name on her tongue.

Thor doesn’t let up, dragging out her pleasure with his fingers and his cock until he stills with a grunt, cock jerking as he comes inside her. She doesn’t know if it’s an Asgardian thing or a god thing, but when Thor comes, it lasts longer and fills her with more than anyone else has. They’d had a sex marathon once when it was just them for a couple nights, and she’d been so full that she’d sloshed with it when she moved, her belly slightly rounded.

When Thor does pull out, he doesn’t go far, spreading her labia to again to see how messy she is now, very pleased with how used she looks, though she knows when the night’s over, he’ll inspect her again, shove the come leaking out back into her, probably make her come on his tongue so he can feel how warm and swollen and wet she is.

Steve is there nearly as soon as Thor backs away, watching Tony feed a thicker toy into Jane's cunt while Pepper stretches her ass even wider. Darcy rolls onto her knees and elbows, presenting herself to Steve. His eyes are dark when he looks at her. Like Thor, he likes her messy. She’d teased him once about liking sloppy seconds, but then he’d made her come so hard she blacked out, so she hardly minds.

In one smooth motion, Steve fucks into her wet cunt, still twitching from her orgasm. He doesn’t fill her nearly as much as Thor had, and that’s how he likes it, feeling her velvety soft cunt around him as she clenches down, wanting to feel him more.

On the couch across from them, Natasha’s now on her back, Sam’s cock buried inside her, with Bucky behind him, stretching his ass before pressing into him. Sam likes it rough, and Bucky doesn’t hesitate, fucking into him hard, forcing him deeper into Natasha.

Sharon is still between Jack and Brock, only now she’s leaking their come from her ass and cunt. Brock’s behind her, her back pressed to his front, his hands at her breasts while Jack feeds their come back into her body. She’s whimpering, breathing hard as Brock twists and pinches at her sensitive nipples, working her closer and closer.

Jack will put his mouth between her legs eventually, fluttering his tongue over her clit until she’s coming again, but not yet. He’ll force a large plug into her, keeping his come locked inside her, then finally let her come again. By then, he or Brock or both will be hard again, ready to fill her up even more.

Maria’s on her knees before Thor, sucking his cock, already hard again (a perk of being a fertility god) while Clint finds Bruce, fingering him open on the sectional.

Soon, Clint, Sam, Maria, and Pepper will tire. They don’t particularly enjoy being overly used, not the way Natasha, Bruce, Darcy, and Sharon do, but they enjoy watching. Jane could go either way, but by how she’s shaking between Pepper and Tony, Darcy knows she’ll be exhausted soon.

Darcy knows she’ll end up with Bucky and Steve inside her, stretching her cunt wide around both of their cocks. Natasha will ride Thor, bouncing on his cock like it isn’t nearly as thick as her fist. Brock and Jack seem intent on destroying Sharon completely, but Darcy knows Jack will want to find his way between her thighs at some point.

Steve groans as he comes inside her, adding to the mess from Thor and Bucky before focusing on her clit, intent on pulling another orgasm from her. It’s not long before her cunt’s spasming weakly as a soft wave of pressure rolls through her as she watches Natasha come on Sam’s cock a few feet away.

Steve pulls away with a slap on her ass, watching as she clenches automatically, a trickle of come forced out of her used cunt. She feels hands tight on her hips moments after he walks away, watching where Bucky’s close to coming inside Sam. She has no idea who it is, but she spreads her knees wider with a whimper, welcoming them to whatever they want.