I can't believe I wrote this??? This is like the second sex scene I've ever written and it's this, god help me. Unbetaed, any mistakes mine. Warnings for: non-con/dub-con, gas-lighting, emotional manipulation, bad BDSM etiquette, Stockholm (kind of) etc. Hope this is okay OP.
“Good boy, you’re so- ah- so good at this Steve, you were- fuuuck you were made for this.” Brock moans, watching him take his dick, his lips stretched wide and swollen. He wasn’t exaggerating when he said he was made for it; blue eyes that gaze up at him under eyelashes most girls would be jealous of; plush red lips and a distinct lack of a gag reflex meant that Brock could fuck his throat as hard as he wanted.
Which he is currently doing. His thighs bracket Steve's face so he can feed him his dick from above, which lets him tie Steve up the way he likes-- that is, ten foot of rope binding his arms securely to his sides, calves against his thighs and thighs against his chest. It’s a goddamn beautiful sight is what it is, Captain America naked and exposed and fucking needy of all things. All Brock has to do is unzip his pants and he's squirming and whining for it like a cheap whore, eyes glazed and pupils blown.
It had been deceptively easy to get him to agree to this shit. He hasn’t got much of an interest in it beyond the buzz of power that goes straight to his dick when he has fucking Captain America helpless beneath him. When Pierce had first suggested it he’d almost laughed in his face, but ultimately did as he was told despite his reservations, and was shocked to find that all it took was a soft touch and gentle praise and Rogers folded like a stack of 240 pound serum-enhanced cards.
So he tells him about people with ‘submissive natures’, explains caning and subspace (but skips over safe words), calls him baby and Steve and boy to his face (Rogers and Cap behind his back, to the other hydra moles when he tells them all about how he managed to get him to cry by yanking his hair when he was fucking him and telling him how perfect he was. The guys get a good laugh out of that one) and ultimately has the easiest job of his whole career.
Steve seems to realize he’s not paying attention because- always eager to please- he starts hollowing his cheeks and whining around Brock’s dick, which just about does it. Brock tugs at his hair, mumbles some praise and comes down Steve's throat (he swallows. Brock had caned him bloody the first time he’d tried to spit, then kissed him after and told him he was sorry, but he had to teach him better). He smiles down at him, kisses him thoroughly till he’s panting and dazed. Then he climbs off of the bed, tucking his dick back in his pants and reaching for his phone as he goes.
He sees that a text has come through for him to meet with Pierce and update him on the job. He looks over at Steve, sees him making valiant efforts not to ask Brock to return the favor, and an idea forms in his mind. He grins.
“Okay baby, you know I gotta go to work now, shouldn’t be longer than a few hours, you think you can wait for me?” he asks, watches Steve’s face as he wars with what he wants versus what could get in the way of him doing superhero duties. His dick is apparently on board though, red and leaking pre-come against his stomach. Brock smears his hand through it, sliding it up and across Steve’s chest.
“How about this, you stay there ‘til I come back and you’re only allowed to move if your phone rings,” even as he’s speaking he sees that Steve is going to agree, face gone slack like he’s half-way to subspace just from the very thought.
“Yeah, you like that huh? You gonna wait there like a good boy till I come take care of you?” He doesn’t wait for the answering whine, just rifles through the bedside table till he finds what he’s looking for: a pecker gag, which he gently pushes past Rogers’ lips and fastens around the back of his head, and a plug that he slicks up and pushes inside him easily-- he’d already fucked him twice today, and he'd not bothered to clean him up at all.
“You are so, so good. I’ll be back in a few. I love you baby,” he says, giving a parting kiss to Steve's temple just to see his expression go sweet and loving. He feels a little bad for the guy.
Later, he comes back irritated and put out when Pierce hadn’t so much as congratulated him on what he’s done with Rogers, ends up pushing him onto his stomach still tied up and fucking into him till he’s whining and drooling into the pillow. He only remembers to tell him he can come when he’s collapsed and sated against his back. Steve comes without so much as a finger on his dick (another thing he’s trained him to do, like a fucking dog), mentally checks out and stays that way while Brock unties and cleans him up, massages the marks on his skin and curls around him until he falls asleep.
--
Brock is in an elevator with a dozen other guys as backup, which it turns out is completely unnecessary-- when Steve starts to shift a little warily, he puts one hand on the back of his neck, the other on his cheek and says,
“Listen baby, you need to do as you’re told now okay?” Doubt starts to color his eyes so he kisses him, licks into his mouth and bites his bottom lip, adds, “Be a good boy for me Steve.”
And Rogers drops to his knees like his strings have been cut.
"Are you kidding me?" Sitwell says in his ear, and one of the guys behind him stifles a laugh. Brock runs a hand through his hair and tugs till Steve is looking up at him, his eyes already glassy and unfocused.
MINIFILL: Lay Down Next to Your Boots and Pray, Rumlow/Steve, Stockholm, non-con/dub-con
“Good boy, you’re so- ah- so good at this Steve, you were- fuuuck you were made for this.” Brock moans, watching him take his dick, his lips stretched wide and swollen. He wasn’t exaggerating when he said he was made for it; blue eyes that gaze up at him under eyelashes most girls would be jealous of; plush red lips and a distinct lack of a gag reflex meant that Brock could fuck his throat as hard as he wanted.
Which he is currently doing. His thighs bracket Steve's face so he can feed him his dick from above, which lets him tie Steve up the way he likes-- that is, ten foot of rope binding his arms securely to his sides, calves against his thighs and thighs against his chest. It’s a goddamn beautiful sight is what it is, Captain America naked and exposed and fucking needy of all things. All Brock has to do is unzip his pants and he's squirming and whining for it like a cheap whore, eyes glazed and pupils blown.
It had been deceptively easy to get him to agree to this shit. He hasn’t got much of an interest in it beyond the buzz of power that goes straight to his dick when he has fucking Captain America helpless beneath him. When Pierce had first suggested it he’d almost laughed in his face, but ultimately did as he was told despite his reservations, and was shocked to find that all it took was a soft touch and gentle praise and Rogers folded like a stack of 240 pound serum-enhanced cards.
So he tells him about people with ‘submissive natures’, explains caning and subspace (but skips over safe words), calls him baby and Steve and boy to his face (Rogers and Cap behind his back, to the other hydra moles when he tells them all about how he managed to get him to cry by yanking his hair when he was fucking him and telling him how perfect he was. The guys get a good laugh out of that one) and ultimately has the easiest job of his whole career.
Steve seems to realize he’s not paying attention because- always eager to please- he starts hollowing his cheeks and whining around Brock’s dick, which just about does it. Brock tugs at his hair, mumbles some praise and comes down Steve's throat (he swallows. Brock had caned him bloody the first time he’d tried to spit, then kissed him after and told him he was sorry, but he had to teach him better). He smiles down at him, kisses him thoroughly till he’s panting and dazed. Then he climbs off of the bed, tucking his dick back in his pants and reaching for his phone as he goes.
He sees that a text has come through for him to meet with Pierce and update him on the job. He looks over at Steve, sees him making valiant efforts not to ask Brock to return the favor, and an idea forms in his mind. He grins.
“Okay baby, you know I gotta go to work now, shouldn’t be longer than a few hours, you think you can wait for me?” he asks, watches Steve’s face as he wars with what he wants versus what could get in the way of him doing superhero duties. His dick is apparently on board though, red and leaking pre-come against his stomach. Brock smears his hand through it, sliding it up and across Steve’s chest.
“How about this, you stay there ‘til I come back and you’re only allowed to move if your phone rings,” even as he’s speaking he sees that Steve is going to agree, face gone slack like he’s half-way to subspace just from the very thought.
“Yeah, you like that huh? You gonna wait there like a good boy till I come take care of you?” He doesn’t wait for the answering whine, just rifles through the bedside table till he finds what he’s looking for: a pecker gag, which he gently pushes past Rogers’ lips and fastens around the back of his head, and a plug that he slicks up and pushes inside him easily-- he’d already fucked him twice today, and he'd not bothered to clean him up at all.
“You are so, so good. I’ll be back in a few. I love you baby,” he says, giving a parting kiss to Steve's temple just to see his expression go sweet and loving. He feels a little bad for the guy.
Later, he comes back irritated and put out when Pierce hadn’t so much as congratulated him on what he’s done with Rogers, ends up pushing him onto his stomach still tied up and fucking into him till he’s whining and drooling into the pillow. He only remembers to tell him he can come when he’s collapsed and sated against his back. Steve comes without so much as a finger on his dick (another thing he’s trained him to do, like a fucking dog), mentally checks out and stays that way while Brock unties and cleans him up, massages the marks on his skin and curls around him until he falls asleep.
--
Brock is in an elevator with a dozen other guys as backup, which it turns out is completely unnecessary-- when Steve starts to shift a little warily, he puts one hand on the back of his neck, the other on his cheek and says,
“Listen baby, you need to do as you’re told now okay?” Doubt starts to color his eyes so he kisses him, licks into his mouth and bites his bottom lip, adds, “Be a good boy for me Steve.”
And Rogers drops to his knees like his strings have been cut.
"Are you kidding me?" Sitwell says in his ear, and one of the guys behind him stifles a laugh. Brock runs a hand through his hair and tugs till Steve is looking up at him, his eyes already glassy and unfocused.
"I guess that's...job done then?"