𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 [on hold]

𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲

(content warnings―choking, oral, praising, soft dom!bucky)

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His hands were underneath her tight dress, riding up the fabric as he pressed her against the wall. Noelle moaned into his mouth, her stomach tense with lust, her skin crawling with shivers of pure desire. Surely, the alcohol had something to do with her irresponsibly surrendering to a man she had just met, but she didn't care.

She didn't care about how cool the metal of his left hand was against her hot, burning skin, and she certainly didn't care that anyone walking past the supply closet of the bar could possibly hear her moans.

His lips left hers, traveling south to the strap of her flimsy dress, nibbling on her collar bone as if he'd known that it was her sweet spot. Clamping her eyes shut, she arched into him, feeling the bulge in his pants press against her lower stomach. Burying her hands in his soft, dark brown hair, she sighed at the blissful sensation of his lips finding their way to her neckline, pecking soft, wet kisses on the beginnings of her breasts.

"God, yes," she panted breathlessly, the heat between her legs throbbing, aching for more. She yearned for him to yank off her panties, and bury himself between her thighs in one way or another. And yet, his skilled fingers had not done much more than graze the hem of her underwear.

The tip of his tongue drew a strip of wetness from where her chest curved, over her neck tattoos, back to her swollen, pink lips. A deep, passionate kiss followed, one that would have left her knees wobbly, if they hadn't already been just that. He groaned against her, his hands sliding her dress further up until it rested over her hips, scrunched up.

"You sure?" he breathed, his voice raspy and shaky. Noelle could smell the mix of tequila, whiskey, and beer they had enjoyed before giving in to the undeniable attraction between them―something she usually didn't do. But there she was, cold concrete pressing into her back, an overly hot stranger pressed into her front. And God, she enjoyed it. So much that she let her hands travel to the fly of his dark denim jeans, teasingly playing with the button.

"Very sure," she replied quietly, feeling her insides practically melt into a ball of desire and need. She needed this.

"Good," he replied, and Noelle realized she forgot if he had ever told her his name. But, as for so many other details about this steamy situation, she simply decided not to care. His lips crashed into hers once more, his tongue swirling around hers as if he'd never done anything else. Then, he pulled away, just a few inches, his hot breath still on her face.

For a second, Noelle thought he wanted to say something. But not another word came out of his mouth. Instead, he took her hands and gently took them out of his hair, letting them dangle to her sides as she excitedly awaited his next move.

And he dropped to his knees.

Her breath hitched in her throat when his fingers finally slid underneath her panties and tugged them down swiftly. A low, desperate moan escaped him at the sight in front of him. His right hand slid the lacy piece of fabric further down until Noelle could step out of them, her feet unstable in her black high heels.

"Come here," he mumbled, his cold metal hand lifting her right leg, angling it over his shoulder. His face inched closer and closer to her wet, throbbing core, and she pressed her lips together, her hands curling into fists.