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disasterofastory · 1 year

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While Wanda is away (Stucky x Reader)

While Wanda is away dark!Stucky x Reader (x dark!Wanda) Warnings: free use, sex in the shower, while Reader is asleep, a lot of smut

Summary: Steve and Bucky take care of your while Wanda is away.

A/N: About the first part, if you didn’t read it: dark!Wanda keeps Reader as her obident doll. Kinktober 2022: With this chapter, my kinktober is over. I hope you enjoyed my stories and you can read them here, mostly under Bucky, Steve and Stucky.

"I'm sorry," Bucky says after a while. His soapy hands slide up on your back, stopping at your shoulders to massage the knots out of your tense muscles. Your head falls to the side as you close your eyes. You can feel yourself relax under his touch. "We were a bit impatient." It's an understatement. The door barely closed behind Wanda, and super soldiers were on you instantly. Tearing your clothes off, they fucked you on the floor, soaking you in their seed. Your pussy still throbs with slight pain, and your jaw aches after letting Steve use your throat. "It's fine," you reply hoarsely. Steve and Bucky let you talk much more than Wanda, even if you have to lie sometimes because they want to hear what they want and not what you have to say. You can't decide if it is worse or better than what Wanda does, keeping you mute most of the time. "Rise your arms a bit," Bucky orders you, and when you do as he says, his hands goes to your front. His hands smooth over your sides until he reaches your breasts. He cups them, palming the soft flesh and toying with their weight. His thumbs flick your nipples. His broad chest is against your back. "I can't believe how soft you are," he hums into the curve of your neck. His warm breath fans over your skin. "Spread your legs, doll." Bucky's metal hand stays on your breast, pinching your nipple while his right hand goes down between your legs. His long fingers run over your puffy slit, drawing a few quick circles on your sensitive clit. Your hips move on their own accord, and you moan. Your bottom presses back against Bucky's half-hard cock as you try to pull away from his touch. Pleasure and pain surge through your body in waves. "Does it hurt, baby?" He coos. "Yes," you gasp. "It's okay." Bucky jams two fingers into your cunt, fucking them in and out of your wet hole. "I will make it better." He slides inside you easily. Cum drips down your leg as he pushes it out. Your walls contract around his digits. "Are you horny, Y/N?" "Yes," you breathe out. Your body betrays you once again, and before you know it, you are bent over, hands flat on the cold wall, while Bucky's large hands are on your hips. "I didn't want to do it," he says. Voice tight and hoarse. "But god, Y/N, how could I say no to your pretty pussy? She always begs us to fuck her. Your hot cunt knows better than you, doll. Listen to her." The man's thick cock slips inside your wet channel with one, swift motion. He pumps in and out of you rapidly, keeping you in place to use your hole as he wants. "You are so tight, Y/N," Bucky grunts above you. "Doesn't matter how many times we fuck you, your cunt is always tight and ready for us." "Bucky!" His name escapes your lips as a lewd moan. His hard length finds every sweet spot to make your head dizzy and your body vibrate. Your pussy flutters around his cock as he pushes you over the edge. Pleasure blazes in your veins as you try to keep your balance between the wall and the super soldier. Above the haze of your mind, you feel Bucky's cock jerk and shoot inside you. Soon, your pussy is full of his seed once again. "I'm sorry, Y/N," Bucky says without meaning it. "I will clean you up in a sec." And with that, he kneels down behind you to do as he said.

By the time Bucky decides you are clean enough, your body trembles, and your mind is completely empty. "Sleep, doll." The brunette's soft voice is the last thing you hear before you fall asleep.

A few hours later, you don't know what wakes you up from your dreamless sleep. The world comes back slowly and gently as you notice a warm hand on your backside, palming your flesh. "Don't wake up for me, Y/N." Steve's voice is quiet. Cold air runs over your bare body when the cover disappears above you. "I only need your pussy." "Steve?" You groan out, eyes still closed. "It's okay, love. Just sleep." The blonde man pushes a pillow under your hips to raise your bottom while climbing up on the bed behind you. A cock stretches you out again while you lay on the bed, half-asleep. Your limbs are heavy, and your mind is still unfocused and tired. You rock on the bed under Steve while he thrusts into you lazily. His fingers dig into your bottom, pushing and pulling you in sync with his rhythm. The wet sounds of your pussy fill the air. You only need a few minutes to reach your orgasm while Steve errupts in you. Your pussy clenches on his grith. Small trembles shake your body, and a soft smack echoes in the room when he slaps your backside. "Wanda was right," he says. "You are a really good girl, Y/N." You go back to sleep.

The bottom of the sun barely reaches the horizon in the distance. The view of the neighborhood is covered in a soft, orange hue. Everything is quiet and peaceful.

Your eyes are on the window as you wait for the oven to heat up. The pie is on the counter in front of you. The sweet scent of cinnamon and apple fills your nostrils. "It smells good," Bucky speaks up suddenly from behind you. His presence is warm and heavy. "Thank you," you reply. You can already feel his hand on your back, caressing down to the short dress Steve chose you to wear. The blonde man's cum is still in your pussy and dried on the insides of your thighs. "Steve should learn to clean up after himself," Bucky says when his hand from your bottom goes lower. "The pie…" you gasp. Two of his thick metal fingers slip inside your messy hole. The cold feels like lightning in your warm center. "Don't let me stop you, doll," he replies, amused. So you grab the pie to put it into the oven while he still plays with the cum Steve left inside you. It drips down, making more mess under your short dress. "Maybe we should ask Wanda to give you to us," Bucky hums into the curve of your neck when you straighten yourself. His front is pressed against your side while his hand is still busy teasing your throbbing pussy. His fingers slid in and out of you slowly. He is not in a rush. "She always gets bored of her toys anyway. But we could take such good care of you, baby. What do you think, Y/N? Would you like that? Being open and ready for our cocks all the time?" You know what he wants to hear, so your lips move automatically. "Yes." "Good girl," he chuckles. His broad chest rumbles against you. "Go to Steve. You know he likes to keep his cock warm during a match."

The other super soldier is sitting on the couch when you leave the kitchen to do what Bucky told you. Hearing your quiet steps, the blond man looks back at you over his shoulder. A smirk pulls on his light pink lips while you can see from the move of his hands that he is already undoing his pants to free his cock. "Come here, baby," he coos. "I missed your hot cunt." Grabbing your hips, he places you on his erection. He slips inside you easily. His cum drips down on his shaft, coating him in his own mess. "That's better," he sighs, leaning back on the couch to continue watching the TV while you rest your head on his shoulder.

You don't know how much time passes while you sit on Steve's lap with his cock in your pussy. Need flares in your lower belly while your walls flutter around his thick girth for some friction. Breath leaves your lips in soft pants. Your lungs fill with the scent of freshly baked pie that lingers in the air. "The pie is done," Bucky says, stepping into the living room. "I'm still working on this one," Steve replies, laughing. He pushes his hips up into you, making you buck against him as you moan. "Yeah," the brunette hums. "I like this one better too."

Before you know it, Steve pounds into you while your mouth is around his friend's cock. Both of them use you while the TV becomes a muffled noise in the background. The wet smacks of Steve's thrusts and your gagging fill the otherwise quiet room. Your left hand holds onto Steve's broad shoulder while your right is around Bucky's shaft. "She is so good," Steve grunts, ramming his cock into you. His hold is almost painful on your hips. You know it will bruise. "I hope Wanda will get bored of her soon," Bucky laughs breathily, rocking into your mouth. You suck him noisily. "I could get used to this." Your world becomes a throbbing mess as they fuck you into oblivion. Every part of your body hurts, but you still find pleasure in it. Hot coil burns inside your stomach, making your muscles contract and your head spin. Steve and Bucky are the only things that keep you up. The brunette's hand is tight and steady on the back of your neck. "She is going to cum," Bucky grits out between ragged pants, looking down at you. He loves the view of your pretty lips around his cock. Tears run down your heated cheeks mixing with the saliva dripping down your jaw. His pre-cum shines on your lips. "Yeah, I can feel it," Steve grunts under you. Your pussy milks him to get his seed while you fall over the edge with hot, white pleasure.

Then, you black out.

The next time you wake up, you are in your bed. Clean and dressed in soft pajamas. Wanda's delicate fingers caress your cheeks as she smiles down at you. "You were such a good girl," she whispers. "My pretty doll."

#stucky x reader #stucky x reader smut #dark!stucky x reader #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #kinktober 2022

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buckyscombatboots · 1 year

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Monstertober Day 5:

The empty sarcophagus𓂀

Pairing: Mummy!Steve Rogers x Reader x Jackal!Bucky Barnes

Warnings: Dub con, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, asphyxiation/ choking, scratching, marking/biting, mentions of blood, threesome, Stucky x Reader

Nicknames: Puppy, Pup, Scarab

Word count: 2.4K

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

Watery sunlight from the alternative entrance of the tomb falls down onto the golden sarcophagus, brightening, waning and brightening again. You arrived early enough that it's still cold, you wanted to avoid the midday heat and its blinding, orangey light that followed; you wanted to relax in the bluish grey light, the chill of the air and the absence of people scuttling around like little ants, occupying every square inch of the tomb, searching for secrets, for riches. It was stifling, suffocating; the smell of warm, sweaty people.

You entered into the sliver of sunlight, relishing in the tepid heat that faded and intensified like the ocean lapping at the shore. The golden sarcophagus in front of you was captivating, you ran your hand across the beaten gold covering the wooden coffin letting your hand linger on the brilliant coloured glass and semi-precious stones, fingering each of them in their imperfect rows; following their designs—the story of the inhabitants life. This was just the outer layer of the sarcophagus, next to it was a much heavier coffin, believed to be made of solid gold, that your team had struggled extracting from the initial layer. You moved over to it, more light was seeping in from the entrance now; the golden coffin glimmered, the lapis lazuli, agate, carnelian, amethyst and variscite inlaid on the tomb looked truly beautiful in the soft glow of the rising sun. Ever so gently you brushed your fingers across the side of the coffin, following the curve. You lifted the lid, inching it slowly open and pushing it to the side. It was empty. You could see all the inscriptions, the story of the inhabitants' entire life, but the actual mummy was gone. A frantically carved inscription was raggedly scratched into the bottom of the tomb, your eyes narrowed, your brain burning as you translated it “Cursed be those who enter my tomb...Those that break the seal of this tomb will meet their end by me. I shall seize their neck and cast fear of myself into them…Death will be upon them.” You bit your lip, removing your shaking hands from the edge of the sarcophagus and stepping backwards on trembling legs “Just a mummy’s curse, nothing too bad that’s normal. It’s going to be fine.” You soothed yourself, taking a deep breath in. Your panic was reignited when you realised “Where the fuck is the mummy?” A thin piece of fabric wrapped around your neck and you pulled backwards harshly, falling to the ground. Your hands flew to the fabric constricting your neck scratching at it, trying to distance it from your throat as it choked you, spittle flying from your mouth as you threw your head back to see who was dragging you. It was too dark.

Your vision adjusted as you were dragged into a room lit by rushlight candles, a dusty table was in the center dotted with canopic jars. The dragging stopped as did the choking, the fabric slipped away from its place around your throat; and you began sucking air back into your lungs as you swiveled your head to see who had almost asphyxiated you. You found the missing mummy. He towered over you, his atavistic linen wrapping falling off of him, exposing areas of his ancient, brown-tinged body. His face was fully visible—it was in almost perfect condition, minus a small laceration on the side of his head—defined cheekbones, a trimmed beard and piercing eyes like polished chrysocolla. He was handsome for a mummy, that thought was quickly replaced by a myriad of questions. You slowly got to your feet, putting your arms in front of yourself protectively “Scarab…” He uttered in a drawling tone.

“Scarab? No, wait, How are you even alive?” You questioned an incredulous expression distorting your features.

“That would be because of me, Pup.” A disembodied voice admitted. You turned around to try and see the other man, squinting and staring into the shadowed parts of the tomb. Then there was movement in the darkness “Over here,” He stepped into the light of the rushlight waving one of his hands that was partly paw; his hand was deep black with pads on his fingers and palm, “Hi.”

“Anubis?” Your voice tremored, you stumbled backwards bumping into the mummy behind you. His arms pulled you into him, settling you against his chest “Get off of me!” You struggled against his grip. The smell of decaying flesh reaching your nose makes you gag.

The Jackal stalked closer “Not quite, I’m Bucky a servant of Anubis and behind you is Steve; once an extremely important attendant and warrior for the pharaoh, now he is a mummy which I reanimated.” Bucky caressed your face with his cold dog-like palm, stroking across your cheek with his thumb—the long claw-like nail just about missed your eye. “You're going to be punished for opening the tomb, Pup, isn’t she Stevie?” Steve simply grunted in response, rubbing his crotch into your ass. You attempted to wriggle out of his grip but Bucky caged you in, his hands wandering down your body caressing your waist and hips. Below the thin material of his loincloth you could see his cock get harder, lifting the fabric as it did. His hands trailed back up to your tits, giving them a squeeze before he used one his sharp nails to tear open your blouse and bra. His chilly hands tweaked your nipples, his claws cutting into your skin as he pinched, you gasped trying to pull away from his touch.

Bucky’s other hand moved down to your shorts, undoing the buttons and tugging them down to your feet along with you underwear “I can smell you, little Puppy, there’s no point in trying to get away so you should at least have some fun or we’ll give you a truly terrible curse.” His voice was low and threatening, eyes narrowed and dark as he relished in the fear present in your tear reddened eyes. Bucky goes down on his knees, carefully helping you out of your shorts and tossing them across the embalming room. He placed one of your legs over his shoulder, liking his lips at the sight of your wet pussy. “So wet for us, Pup, do you secretly like being shared by two people? Do you like us taking you against your will?” You whined in response turning your head away to stare at the ancient walls, one of Steve’s hands seized your face pulling you into a kiss. His mouth was cold and tasted bitter. You scrunch your nose as he deepened the kiss, then you felt Bucky slide his long tongue inside of; the hot, wet muscle filled you so well, attacking the sweet spot inside you as the bridge of his nose rubbed against your sensitive clit. You writhed in the mummies grasp, your hands clenching and unclenching frantically—you were desperate to bury your hands in Bucky’s curls; to feel his long velvety ears and run the silky inside between your thumb and index finger. You could feel heat building in you belly as Bucky removed his tongue from your eager hole and began to suck and tease your bud, Steves kisses simply added to the sensation you head growing fuzzy from the stimulation which only intensified when Steve released your face from his hold and satiated the burning need of your clenching hole by roughly shoving two of his fingers inside you.

You pulled away from the intense kiss, slamming your head into his broad shoulder as you let out a breathy moan. “Feel good…Khepri- Scarab?” Steve probed, nibbling at your ear.

“Yes!” You whined, prying a hand from his grasp and digging your hand into Bucky’s soft hair, grinding your hips into his face trying to chase your release. He pulled away, lips red, his chin shining with spit and your slick “So close” you sobbed playing with his charcoal ears, fiddling with the golden piercing. Bucky’s large tongue licked across your inner thigh, you heard him let out a low chuckle before he sunk his teeth into the soft flesh. You hissed, slamming the back of his head with your fists. He released the area he’d bitten, slurping at the blood dripping down your thigh.

“You’re going to let Stevie fuck you arent you, Scarab?”

“I call her Scarab, my Scarab.” Steve grunted, tightening his hold on you so much so that you thought your wrist would snap, you could feel the bruises already forming as he strangled your wrists. You squeaked as he tugged you closer, his hard dick pressing on to your back, dripping precum “Saw her first. Like Khepri…appeared from nowhere, Scarab special. Mine.”

“Steve, you need to learn how to share. She can be both of ours, my Puppy, your Scarab. Okay?” Bucky kneads Steve’s shoulders soothingly.

“Fine. Scarab, up.” Steve picked you up, carrying you over to the table brushing his arm across it knocking the fragile canopic jars to the floor causing them to shatter. He lays you on your back on the dusty stone table; he pulled your hips closer to the edge. Staring into your eyes as he ran his red, leaking, mushroom head through your folds. You whimpered as he teased you, copying what he’d seen Bucky do earlier and playing with your puffy clit. With a single thrust he shoved himself fully inside, his dick crashing against your cervix almost painfully as he tried to fit all of his length in, giving shallow thrust to try get it all the way. A painful sting tore through you as your pussy tried to grow accustomed to the size of his girth shaft, Steve's eyebrows knitted together in frustration.

Bucky grazed his hand across Steve’s arm gently “It’s not gonna fit all the way. Remember what I told you? You’re big.” The jackal chuckled at Steve’s pout and his grumbling “He’s big isn’t he, Puppy? Too big. Try to breathe. Now turn your head to the side, Steve’s not gonna be the only one having fun.” You don’t know why, but you obeyed him; turning your head so your cheek rested against the cool stone. When you turned you were met with Bucky’s cock, he’d taken off his loin cloth and now you could fully see it. It was long, thick (not as thick as Steves), with a purple vein running from the base all the way to the tip and a golden piercing through the head, matching the ones in his ears. A bead of precum dripped from the head and he smeared it across your lips. A devious smile stretching across his lips “Open up. Don’t even think about biting it or I’ll pull out all your teeth and put them in one of the canopic jars.” He lowered his voice an octave as he threatened you. Steve stopped his thrusts giving Bucky a disapproving glare.

“Don’t threaten Scarab.” He growled, making Bucky’s ears pull backwards, he nodded, looking like a puppy that just got caught chewing something they weren’t supposed to, you snickered shooting a smile at him. Your smile soon faded as Bucky’s heady scent filled your nostrils; he sheathed the full length of his veiny cock in your mouth. You could feel the head of his dick brush uncomfortably against the walls of your throat. You gaged a bit and he rasped out a moan in response “that’s it, choke on it, Puppy.” You claw at his thick, hair thighs with your nails pushing yourself off of him, saliva leaking down your chin as you glare at him with teary eyes. He tangles his fingers in your hair and begins pounding into you, disregarding your muffled pleas for him to slow down “this is a punishment after all, Pup. Can’t be too nice.”

“Scarab feels good, s-so warm.” Steve moaned, his thrusts becoming more erratic, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoing throughout the room.

“I won't deny that she’s warm, but it’s also because you’re extremely cold, big guy.” Bucky used his free hand to play with your nipples, circling the hardened nub with his claw “Gonna make pleasure and pain indistinguishable for you.” Buck snarled, dragging his claws across your rib cage as he rammed his dick down your throat. Your jaw ached and mild prickling from the tiny incisions made you clench around Steve. You felt so full, your brain growing hazy as a pleasurable heat spread across your lower back.You tried to close your legs around Steve as the tingling inside you grew “She’s close. Come for us, Puppy!” He demanded quickening his thrusts in an attempt to catch up to both you and Steve. Your eyes flickered upwards towards the mummy above you. His face was flushed, mouth wide open, tears in his eyes as his brutal pace continued—the sight was enough to send you over the edge.

The sounds of Steve and Bucky’s moans cut into white noise as the coil tightening within your lower abdomen finally snapped, making your eyes roll back into your head as your pussy tensed around Steve's pulsing dick. His fingers dug into your hips as he came with a violent thrust and a gravelly grunt. Your eyes burned as Bucky’s held your face flush against his pelvis as let all of his seed flow down your throat. Bucky slipped his cock out of your mouth, the ache within your jaw finally dissipated. Begrudgingly Steve weakened his hold on your hips, whining as he slowly pulled out of you. Groggily you lifted your wrist, reading your watch—it was almost eight in the morning. The team was going to be here soon. Shakily you got to your feet, searching for your shorts that Bucky had tossed. The Jackal grabbed your arm. “I need to go, the research team is going to be here soon.”

“Oh sweet little Puppy, you’re not leaving. You’re coming with us, back to the underworld.” Bucky cooed, you felt two large hands seize your throat and squeeze, constricting your throat in his murderous grip. You fought for air, kicking at Steve's legs with your feet as he lifted you off the ground with his strong beefy arms, even below the bandaged you could see the muscles in his arms tense and his veins bulging as he used all his strength to clutch your throat. Darkness bordered your vision as the air drained from your lungs; your floundering and thrashing became more violent, you could feel the adrenaline leaving your body that was slowly growing slack “Shhh, death isn’t scary. It’s fun. You’ll travel through Duat on Ra’s boat, consult with Oris, meet master Anubis and then we can spend eternity together in the stars. Sleep now, Puppy, and when you wake we’ll begin our journey, together.”

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babyjakes · 2 years

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a natural.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinktober 2021

prompt | eating out

summary | bucky lets steve use you as practice for going down on a girl.

pairing | dark!stucky x reader

warnings | dark steve and bucky(steve’s relatively soft, bucky a little less), noncon, bucky holds reader down(restraining), set in the forties before the freeze (but after steve becomes supersoldier)? if that matters?, implied that reader is bucky’s partner unwillingly (idk i didn’t choose to elaborate so whatever you prefer to imagine for those circumstances), steve “doesn’t know how to eat pussy” but then destroys reader’s, fingering, eating out, forced orgasm, crying, one (?) slap, praise, slight!jealousy from steve

word count | 1,214

an | wooh i just love something about like bucky having to explain so descriptively and steve being so eager to make you cum, like can you imagine :’-) also idk if it matters that this is set before the freeze but i just like the aesthetic of forties!stucky for this one. also wow this one also ended up super long oops :^) anyway, hope you guys enjoy!

“Shit, Bucky. She’s even prettier in person.”

Though you’re putting up the best fight you can, you’re no match for the two supersoldiers holding you down to the bed as you thrash and writhe pathetically; with frustration settling on his face to mix with his disappointment, Bucky tsks at you. “Come on, y/n. Give it up; you know you’re not getting out of this.”

“Please-” you try to beg once more, but with exhaustion settling in over you as Bucky secures you to his chest from behind with his arms wrapped around you, you know the outcome is getting bleaker by the moment.

“S'alright doll,” Steve tries to sate you, noticeably more impacted by your tears and protests than his friend, “just gonna make you feel good.”

“That’s right, so for fuck’s sake, would you quit squirming,” Bucky demands, his grip tightening on you as he manages to raise a hand to strike swiftly across your tear-soaked cheek. Heat rises immediately to flood the battered flesh, a frightened whimper escaping your lips as you fall limp against the pair, earning a hum of content from the dark-haired man behind you. “That’s better,” he sighs in relief. “Now go ahead, pal. Lift up her skirt, I made sure she’s got nothin’ on under there.”

Steve pauses for a moment to lock his eyes with yours, a hand reaching out almost appearing to offer peace as he nods. “Alright. Just relax, sweetheart,” he attempts to soothe you, taking the fabric of your skirt lightly and flipping it up to reveal your bare thighs. Your knees close instinctively, but Bucky’s quick to grab one in each hand, prying you open to give Steve easy access.

Now completely exposed to the cool air of the room, your pussy quivers in anticipation. Eyes drifting to your glistening heat, Steve’s mouth beginning to water as he lowers his head to take a closer look. “Fuck,” he mutters, his large length bulging visibly through his pants. Though you’re no expert on all the technicalities of what the serum did to him, it’s clear now that the young man’s muscles weren’t nearly the only thing enhanced by the experiment.

“She wet?” Bucky asks from behind you, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs beginning to ache.

“Just barely,” Steve hums, still seeming half in a daze from the magnificent sight of your sex.

“You’re gonna wanna use some spit then,” Bucky advises. “C'mon doll, be a good girl and open up for Stevie.” Feeling the pressure increase through his grip on you, you’re quick to obey him. Eyes still wide, Steve gently slips his pointer and middle finger between your lips, a low groan rising through his throat as you provide him your saliva. “Now spread it around down there, over the opening,” Bucky continues.

Doing as his friend’s instructed, Steve brings his spit-covered fingers down to drag over your slit, his fingertips just barely teasing at your opening as his brow slants in concentration. “Start with one finger; work a little in at a time,” Bucky says.

“Alright doll,” Steve breathes, gently beginning to ease his middle finger into you. “Shit,” he mumbles as you struggle to take the insertion, “so fuckin’ tight.”

“Yeah, she’ll take some warming up,” Bucky chuckles, straining your legs a bit further apart to make it easier for his friend as he pumps in the length of just one knuckle, then working up to a second, his motions careful, cautious. Though he hasn’t said it, it’s clear Steve’s worried about hurting you given the size of his fingers. “There you go,” Bucky murmurs approvingly, glancing over your shoulder to watch as your cunt’s slowly opened up. “You can work a little faster now, and you can probably fit the whole finger in.”

Nodding, Steve picks up his pace ever-so-slightly, the full length of his digit now filling you up each time he presses inside you. “That okay, princess?” he asks, his eyes raising back up to meet yours. Trying to keep from moaning out, you simply nod, a look of relief washing over Steve as he dares to go even a bit faster.

“Now would be a good time to add your mouth,” Bucky tells him. “Find her clit up where her lips join together, looks like a little bead peaking out from between the folds. You’re gonna wanna work it with your tongue; sucking on it’s usually the best way to go.”

Licking his lips, Steve lowers his face to meet your mound, his nose bumping against it gently as he runs his tongue over your engorged flesh, the soft sensation sending tingles running up from your toes. “There, that’s it,” Bucky encourages, “look at that, she’s opening right up for you.” Steve only hums in agreement, the warmth of his breath against you only causing your wetness to grow as his finger works inside of you. When his lips find your bundle of nerves and close in to begin suckling, you can’t hold back your response; a heated whine escapes you as the tender bud is worked by the man’s mouth, a familiar fullness beginning to build in your belly.

“Oh- St-Steve,” you whimper, your hands coming up to cover your face in embarrassment. Keeping his lips locked on your clit, the blonde starts pumping faster in and out of your pussy with his fingers, not even needing Bucky’s instruction to know when you’re finally ready for a second. As the pads of his fingers work perfectly up against your soft spongey ceiling, you can feel your climax building inside you, your breaths starting to stagger as you grip the sheets beneath you in anticipation.

“There she goes, she’s almost there,” Bucky sings, his hands abandoning your legs to come up and cup your breasts through your shirt. “Keep goin’, pal. She’s about to cum- don’t worry, you’ll feel it when it happens.”

“Steve, B-Bucky,” you stammer, your head throbbing in pleasure as your peak approaches.

“C'mon, doll. Cum for me,” Steve pants against your button, his words the exact push you need to be thrown over the edge as you clench down brutally against his fingers, your toes curling up almost painfully as your orgasm tears through you.

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” Bucky praises as Steve nurses your clit, his fingers struggling to continue pounding into you as you ride out your high. The intensity lasts for several moments, and only when you’ve finally begun to come down does Steve slow his movements, his lips ceasing from around your puffy flesh as he raises his head to look at you, adoration shining in his eyes.

“Pull out carefully,” Bucky tells him. “She’s sensitive now.” Steve’s careful to do so, surprising both you and the man behind you by bringing his soaked fingers to his mouth to lick off the juices.

“How’d I do?” he asks.

“I’d say you’re a natural,” Bucky decides, his hands now rubbing gently over your chest as you breathe heavily against him. “Though I’ll warn you now, whatever girl you practice on next will have nothing on y/n.”

“I’m sure you’re right, pal,” Steve agrees with a nod, a hint of sadness flashing in his eyes as he glances at the two of you before him.

#dadplease kinktober 2021 #kinktober #eun's writing #a natural #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #stucky smut #stucky x reader #dark!stucky #stucky x y/n #stucky fanfiction #stucky one shot #stucky imagine #stucky blurb #stucky drabble #stucky headcanon #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes smut

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darkdarkstucky · 2 years

Text

masterlist

caution; may include dark and sexual themes that is not suitable for minors, please don't interact! reminder, you are responsible for your own media consumption.

otherwise, let us proceed with a mantra of sorts; if the man does not exist, so does my morals.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Avengers

coming soon

Steve Grant Rogers

•❥ SERIES

HIDDEN

Summary: Despite the fanfare and the cult-like following of Steve Rogers; America's golden child, the war time hero and do-no-evil american dream, it was still a startling discovery when it was revealed to the world that he was happily married. And he almost flipped New York upside down just to find you.

○ Pairing: Soft!Dark Steve Rogers x Reader

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

•❥ ONESHOTS

I got you, sweet girl.

Summary: A tough week has you struggling to rein in your emotions, so when someone flirts with your daddy, you don't take it particularly well.

•❥ HEADCANONS

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ When you miss your daddy/mommy while they're on a mission

James Buchanan Barnes

•❥ SERIES

•❥ ONESHOTS

Meeting The Soldat

Summary: The soldat makes a sudden appearance and he is on a mission. Or when you suddenly find yourself acquainted with the Winter Soldier.

Scenting

Summary: The stereotypes of the alpha and omega dynamics were blurred, when it comes to you and bucky.

•❥ HEADCANONS

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ When you miss your daddy/mommy while they're on a mission

Maximoff

•❥ HEADCANONS

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱When you miss your daddy/mommy while they're on a mission

Steve and Bucky

•❥ SERIES

Pretty

Summary; You were anything but expectant after spending a night between the ellusive lawyers, James Buchanan Barnes and Steve Grant Rogers; it was a supposed fling. Something to spice up their marriage. So you weren't exactly prepared with their advances nor the possessiveness that came with their attention.

○ Pairing; Soft!Dark Stucky x Reader, Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Reader, Soft!Dark Steve Rogers x Reader.

ABO Universe

•❥ SERIES

Enchanted

Summary: In a world where Omega's were scant and decent alpha's even more so, you think you're one in a million to be in a relationship with Alpha's who not only take care of your every whims and need, but also love and respect you unconditionally. However, your marital bliss of two years is interrupted by the concept of ‘true mates’.

○ Pairing; Steve Roges x Reader x Clark Kent, Soft!Dark Steve Rogers x Reader, Soft!Dark Clark Kent x Reader.

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thefiery-phoenix · 2 days

Text

YANDERES STUCKY (STEVE AND BUCKY) HEADCANONS

They'd most likely meet you if you were in the past with them, or an Avenger or even just a random civilian they once saved

Most yanderes often find it rather difficult to share but both of them get along really well with each other since they're pals so, they'll share you with each other, after all, sharing IS caring. And for YOU, that'll make it even more harder for you to escape from them

I can see both of them taking turns stalking you and claiming it to be 'keeping an eye on you to make sure you're safe'. Yeeaahhh.... I don't really buy that

If you're an Avenger like them you can't be one anymore since they don't want you risking your life and putting in danger. And if you're a civilian living without their protection, what if someone hurts you or does something to you? So, with the best interests in their hearts for you, and after all, they being your best friends, they only want what's best for you. And they know that the best thing for you is to be with them. FORVER

They'll collect everything about you, finding about your interests and stuff like that. They'll most likely kidnap you after 2 months or so but don't worry, they'll make sure you're happy with them and stock up on all your favorite things. HECK, they'll even have Natasha to help them plan their 'bringing you home' thing. Maybe even Clint as well

They'll constantly hold you every night and cuddle with you, telling you how precious and wonderful you are to them. Both of them really love cuddle sessions with you and it's best if you just go along with the flow since Steve might not be too nice unlike Bucky

Bucky generally never hands out the punishments since he doesn't like punishments. If you act up with Steve on the other hand, he literally won't hesitate to spank you and you'll really be needing some cream once he's done with his way of punishing you. But aftercare with them will be cuddles and they'll tell you not to act up. Bucky will try telling Steve to go easier on you and he'll cut you some slack

You won't be able to escape from these 2 anytime soon since they must've destroyed all sorts of escape routes and they even baby proofed the house so you don't accidentally hurt yourself or something

They're both super soldiers which makes them the PERFECT team , obsessive, possessive and overprotective of you. Not to mention kinda delusional too so... good luck trying to escape from them

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nightowlwriting · 1 year

Text

summary: be flexible, be unreplaceable

in a world of heavy footprints, be untraceable

you're activated. bucky, steve, and tony each have regrets. someone stalks the city at night. your cell is very nice, and so is bruce. his tests are easy and he's amiable to be around. bucky watches from the sidelines until he's at your door, telling you about the next test.

word count: 5.1k

reader specifics: no race/gender/sexuality/body type mentioned, no pronouns for reader used, enhanced!reader, traumatized!reader

warnings: self-loathing, brief descriptions of torture, mentions of imprisonment, lapse of reality, paranoia, brief mentions of forced food/water restriction, flashbacks, ptsd, trauma responses

note: this is the part three of an ongoing series, find the series masterlist here. also sorry this is kind of a filler chapter? i can't put everything i want in it without it being too long and cutting it off makes it short. sorry!

title & summary credit: the mountain goats

mobile masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

Steve takes a deep breath, inching closer and closer. He's not registering as a threat to you but your eyes are still flickering between his looming frame and the visibly frightened woman. At the same time that he says your name, low and calm, Bucky says your name in a tone that's achingly familiar. You hazard a glance over your shoulder and see him shielding Wanda, Tony, and Bruce much the way that Steve is shielding the woman who had been wearing the jacket. His face is hard, lined with stress, and his jaw moves like he’s chewing his next words carefully. Your gaze slides back to Steve, furniture and faces leaving trails like you’d only ever experienced when they first injected you with the serum.

Time is getting weird, and it probably has something to do with the way your chest is heaving or how thin the oxygen is around you because of the dancing flames on your arms. Your heart is still racing in your chest and now it’s almost starting to ache. How long has it been since the woman - Helen - walked off the elevator? How long had you and Wanda been in your memories? Natasha has moved from the doorway to standing at your flank, finger still on the trigger.

Steve is looking over your shoulder now, heartbreak on his face. You watch his head shift left and then right, minuscule movement that’s telegraphing something to someone behind you. Conflict crosses his face and then he looks back to you and the dying fire dancing across your skin. The expression looks wrong on Steve’s face and he shakes his head at you, hands lowering slowly but surely. “I’m sorry.” His voice is low and strangled and the fire on your body surges. What does that mean? The heat in your stomach, anger and resentment and revenge, fuels the oxygen suck weighing your shoulders down.

Seconds later, Steve’s mouth not even shut into a thin line yet, Bucky speaks up again. “Serdtse,” His voice is low and sharp, cutting through the air between you like a knife. It slides between your ribs and cuts into your lungs. The fire goes out even before he continues, “Potushit ogon.” Your hands shake worse than your knees as a high buzzing begins in the back of your mind. Eyes locked on Steve, you’re far, far away in a microsecond. The words are familiar but it’s in Bucky’s voice. For a brief second, you see him, laying bloodied and barely alive on the metal table. You hear the plans for the Program, for a new test to see if they could meld metal to flesh, you feel his blood flexing underneath your power. Gasping shallow breaths, the room spins around you. Steve smiles, small and sad, and approaches you faster - but not fast. Just faster than before. Bucky gives another order, “Uspokoit’sya.”

Steve wraps his long fingers around the wrist shaking in front of you as the weight of the order presses you down. Your breathing slows even though your mind is spinning out at thousands of miles per hour, and your stance relaxes. Steve smiles again, his other hand smoothing over your shoulder. “Helen is a friend,” He says, ducking his head so that he can keep eye contact with you as he says your name, “We just have to make sure that you’re healthy.”

For what? For battle? You know about the tests that doctors run - stress tests, blood pressure, cognitive tests. You know that they run all of that and more, sometimes through the excruciating pain of electricity in places that it shouldn’t be. Still, you can’t freak out because your mind is still stuck between this place is not that place, these people are not those people and uspokoit’sya. It leaves you in a strange fugue state that makes you incredibly malleable for Steve to steer you toward a chair. Your mind struggles to protect itself and it’s like you’re watching what’s happening through a dirty window - there, but not. Steve doesn’t seem to notice.

Once he has you sat in the chair, everyone else moves. Bruce and Tony escort Wanda out the door, holding her up as she sags under her body weight. Or, maybe, the weight of your memories. Natasha lowers her gun but doesn’t take her finger off the trigger, even as Bucky works his way around to face you in an arc until he’s standing next to her. There’s a small trickle of blood over his forehead, following the slant of his eyebrow around his eye. It’s probably already healed, you think blithely as you watch Steve present your arm to Helen. She’s talking to you but her voice isn’t anything but a hum of syllables and incoherent sounds. She takes a lot of blood, more than a normal human could stand having drained at once, but you don’t even flinch.

You’re waiting for your next order. There has to be more - Bucky had activated you. They were going to use you for something, right? Maybe they’d just wanted you docile for the tests, or maybe they were going to trick you into agreeing to what Wanda had seen you in your mind. It doesn’t matter because your thoughts come and go like an even breeze. You barely remember them once they’re gone, despite being very quick-witted usually. They’re an afterthought to you - they have to be if you want to survive. If you rely on your own thoughts they will punish you when you tell them no. If you fall away, watch your life trapped in your own body as if You is different from the you that your body is, it hurts much less. So you let Helen run her tests and take her blood; you answer her questions in a flat and quiet voice. Almost fully opposite of you, the You inside of your body is screaming. Every answer burns like fire as it comes out of your body; every test, blood draw, and reflex check is a reminder of what you and You actually are. Sure, you can look like a person and act like a person and even fucking think and feel and love and cry like a person but nobody in those jackets sees you (or You, for that matter) as a person.

You are an experiment. A tool. A weapon. An asset.

You are Serdtse.

You are the Heart, the beginning, the end, the middle, the catalyst, the deterrent. You are all of these things in one and Bucky must see it.

He has made his way from being all of those things, but he must see it in you. He watches you as Helen continues for another hour, two, three - you’re not sure. There’s no time where You are and it’s hard enough to watch everything happening, let alone know how long you’ve been stuck inside of your own body like this. The weight of your title doesn’t even seem to impact his shoulders, or the way he sends Natasha away with the strangle tile she’d dropped. When Steve escorts Helen back to the elevator, Bucky approaches less cautiously than his friend had. He says a name but you stare blankly back at him. Inside, behind the glass, You scream. That’s Your name, that’s who You are. He’s saying Your name and You desperately want to react but you can’t, you won’t. Bucky sighs and finally the weight settles over him.

Through a frown, he says, “Serdtse, poydem.”

“Gde?” Your voice is hollow and Bucky flinches.

“V svoyu komnatu. Tebe nuzhno pospat’ seychas.”

You nod but it feels heavy. On numb legs you stand, eyes rolling toward Bucky as he watches you, analyzing how you’re reacting - or not reacting because you’re still stuck, trapped, reliving your life in brief flashes and phantom pains. The phrase they always expected falls out of your mouth before you can stop it and, for a moment, you’re afraid you’re going to vomit. “Ya ponimayu.” He turns to lead you to your room and you follow, gait strong and flawless. It’s unlike any way that you’ve carried your body since you’ve unthawed and if you had more control, if you were closer to the surface of the fugue state, you might clench your jaw and crack your neck to relieve the stress compressing your spine. As it is, you just follow Bucky’s broad back to your room and follow your orders, laying back down in your bedding and falling asleep before you can become You again.

When Bucky gets back to the apartment he shares with Steve, the first thing he does is empty his dinner into the toilet. The second thing he does is get into the shower fully clothed, turning the water as hot as Friday will let him. The third is cry.

The city skyline is dark, a storm having just passed over the heart of New York. The rolling of thunder still echoes from where the cluster of clouds has moved on, but the figure clad in all black, shapeless clothing doesn’t care. As long as the storm doesn’t come back for seconds, everything will fall into place today.

They’re on a mission.

They have to find the perfect place - it has to be perfect. If it’s not perfect there’s a good chance they’ll lose their life. There’s a good chance their family will die, too. The video had gone viral. The headlines had conspired that it was a movie shoot.

But they know better. Their bosses know better. The day after the video was posted, the plan was in place. It just has to be perfect.

Every alley that they pass is inspected, but those are too hidden. The parks are too filled with people walking dogs or gathering after the raucous storm in the fresh post-rain smell. The figure huffs, pulling a dark hood tighter to obscure their face from security cameras or appearing in the background of smartphone photographs.

Grinding their teeth, they search well into the night. Finally, finally, they find it. Hidden enough to be discovered long after they’re gone, but in plain enough sight that it will be discovered.

The paint runs like blood and the artist disappears like a ghost.

Steve presses his forehead against the elevator doors after he sends Helen off. There’s a bad feeling growing like a parasite in his spine. He’s almost afraid to go back to his apartment, to see what’s happening to Bucky now, but he has to. He wants to, more importantly.

When he said I’m with you ‘till the end of the line what he really meant was I love you, I have always and will always love you, and I will be here through everything.

Tony sits on his balcony, an untouched glass of whiskey in his right hand. Every so often, he smells it. He does not take a drink, but his throat stings like he does. The skin around his arc reactor burns. It’s a phantom ache. He knows that.

You’re a phantom ache to him, too.

If he closes his eyes, he can still feel the heat of the fire on your skin pressing against his face. If he closes his eyes, he wonders if that’s what it feels like to die.

If he closes his eyes, he wonders if that’s the last thing his parents felt.

Tony doesn’t close his eyes. Instead, he pours the whiskey over the balcony, thinking about every Yahrzeit he’s missed, every kaddish.

A storm rolls in.

When you wake up the next morning you feel like shit. There’s residual heaviness in your head, a fog you can’t break through. There’s also shame. When Natasha comes to get you, laptop and gun in hand, you straighten your shoulders and decide that you’re going to be the best fucking prisoner these people have ever had. You pick out your clothes on the laptop, keeping an eye out for what Natasha likes, and then you go for more blood tests.

It continues like that for the next month. Sometimes Steve comes to get you in the mornings, sometimes it’s Natasha. It’s never Bucky, never Wanda, never Tony. It makes bile rise in your throat but you press on. You have to.

When Bruce comes to get you in the mornings, it means he’s running tests, too. You remember these tests from your time with the Handlers so it’s easy. It’s like breathing. Sometimes the Avengers - though you’d learned that they don’t really call themselves that anymore - come to watch. Bruce doesn’t make you run mazes, but he hooks new tech up to you and monitors your reactions to running at a flat-out sprint for as fast and as long as possible, or jogging for as long as you can stand the boredom that comes with your endurance. He told you once everything that he monitors like it matters to you, or you’re going to do anything with that information. You know your place - you’re nothing more than a shiny new lab rat, another super-soldier with a serum that they can study. Still, there’s something about the look on Bucky’s face when he’s watching you deadlift or catch softballs barehanded from a machine that pitches them to you at superhuman speeds. It reminds you of you when you were watching him die.

But you’re not dying. You’re getting stronger throughout the tests. The Handlers ran tests, sure, but they never kept you fed well enough to gain any muscle. The Avengers give you three protein shakes a day, still unbearably sweet, and after a few weeks you end up eating breakfasts and lunches of solid foods with just a shake for dinner. You bulk up, but not visibly. It’s just noticeable on your tests and it becomes another variable that Bruce measures. He’s the nicest of the bunch - the most prone to trust you. Maybe it’s naivete, maybe it’s because there’s something lurking under the surface that you can see. He’s repressing something and you wonder if, like you, he’ll explode one day.

You also take to writing in the month since you nearly lit poor Helen on fire. It’s easy enough to request a pen and journal from The Voice That Lives In Your Ceiling, something that’s never really explained to you. Every night after your tests are done and you’ve drank your dinner shake, you find yourself at the desk in your cell writing. You’ve filled four journals with just what you remember from your childhood so far, and there’s still so much more information that you have left to give. The finished journals are all in a pile next to where you sleep, new crisp journals appearing outside your door after you add another thick, written in journal to the pile. You’re not sure who’s buying them for you, but you figure they’ll be repaid tenfold when they get their hands on everything you know.

The Handlers were never worried about what they said to you, or around you, because they thought they had your undying loyalty. They programmed you with a near-perfect memory which, now, is both a blessing and a curse. Their plans, their thoughts, their names - you write them all down because you can remember them.

But that means you can remember what those people became. The monsters that humans can turn into when corrupted by greed, or power, or the ideologies that led to the second war.

It also means you can remember being outside, no matter how much you don’t want to. Asking to go outside seems like it’s breaking some unspoken rule about what you can and can’t have, so you don’t even risk it. You just think about asking; remembering the sun on your face, the ground beneath your feet. You just look longingly out the window when it rains or when the stars come out.

Nobody notices.

Still, they are eons nicer than the Handlers. You learn about them over mealtimes when they all come together to laugh, catch up, and break bread. You’re only there because Steve makes sure to come to get you so that you can eat with them. Sometimes, he drags you into the conversations like he wants to get to know you.

(“What about your favorite book? It has to be one that Buck and I have actually read.” Steve says one day when the rain has lulled you into a small appetite. You’re already done with lunch, listening to the team describe the bare-bones plots of their favorite novels. His direct question startles you so badly a heat you can feel crawling up your neck.

“Yeah,” Wanda says, still not able to look you full in the eyes after what she’d seen in your head, “I’m sure yours are more interesting than ours.” You blink slowly, trying to think about the ten or eleven books you’d read in your life.

“Oh,” You say to fill the silence, shifting awkwardly when you realize that even Bucky is watching, waiting for your answer, “There was a book I stole when I was out once,” You cough awkwardly when you realize what you’ve revealed, “It was in Paris - in the late thirties. Just a few years, uh, before I was frozen.” Not a few years ago - decades. Lifetimes. “The Handlers weren’t too keen when they found it, but it was a good book. Nightwood was the title, but I’m not sure of the author. Djuana? Something.”

“Djuna Barnes,” Bucky says, “My cousin. I remember hearin’ Ma talk about the book when it came out in ‘36. She didn’t like how it talked about different groups like they weren’t all people, and I have to agree. Really sent the neighborhood into a tizzy when she published that, but she was a good journalist in Greenwich ‘fore she went off to travel.” He shares a fond look with Steve, “Gave us our first smokes too - nearly killed Stevie with his lungs back then.” You don’t understand the look on his face.

“It’s a good book,” You offer, wilting under the unreadable look on everyone’s faces, “I read almost the entire thing before it was taken away from me. I didn’t appreciate how she played into stereotypes, either, though.”

“What was your favorite quote?” Bucky leans forward, commanding the conversation as he watches you think. “What?” “From the book - your favorite quote.”

You think, running back the parts of the book you’d read over and over in your head. There were a few lines that had stayed with you, sure, but only one that had brought you to tears when you first read it in the moonlight at the Underground. “But death is intimacy walking backward. We are crazed with grief when she, who once permitted us, leaves to us the only recollection.” Bucky leans back, satisfied.

“We have to get you some new books.” Tony cuts in, grumbling into his coffee cup and never looking at you. The next day there is a stack of books in front of your door when Bruce comes to get you for breakfast and testing. The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers, The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee Williams, and a thick book with all seven books in a series called The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S Lewis. You have a sneaking suspicion that Tony sent them, but don’t know why.)

Exactly a month after you’ve woken up from the ice is the second time that Bucky Barnes shows up at your door to fetch you. He knocks as they all do, but then he opens the door before you can even stand from your makeshift studying nook. “Today is goin’ to be different,” He says. Something about the way his voice is flat and grave makes your stomach twist. “We need to see how powerful you are.” You turn to look at him but he won’t look at you. “I don’t know - did they ever make you fight other people?”

“Sometimes,” You answer, but your voice doesn’t sound like yours. It sounds like theirs- every person you fought, every person you killed. Thankfully, it does not sound like Bucky’s. “I don’t have to kill anyone, do I?”

“No!” He looks at you now, pale. So he knows, then. That part of the Program wasn’t written down anywhere except in the notes you stole, but it was always the Handler’s favorite part. They loved to take bets but it was a lost cause and mostly for fun. You never lost. “No,” Bucky repeats, calmer, “We just want to see how much you can manipulate. You’ll be fighting us.”

In your shock, you nearly forget to breathe. Fighting them - fighting the Avengers… Even the Handlers didn't fight you themselves. There are so many things that can go wrong; they know that based on the fact that Bucky has been sent to collect you. He watches you go stock still, chest barely rising with your breath, and wrings his hands. "How hard do I have to fight?" You finally ask, standing from your cramped position over a notebook.

"Just hard enough to not lose," He holds your door for you, "I… I had to do the same thing after I was pardoned. They only had me fight Stevie and Tony, though." You follow three steps behind Bucky as he leads you toward the training gym, "We're goin' to have you switch it up for each person because I don't think anyone could handle takin' you on with all four elements, y'know?"

"Right." You clip off the word before it's fully out of your mouth. You know that nobody could - you're not sure you'd survive that experiment.

"So the plan is one-on-one, one element per combatant." Bucky explains everything tactically, lips pressed into a hard line between each sentence, "It's up to you how you fight and what you fight with. This is a test of your cognitive capabilities when it comes to fighting - and how you strategize."

"And how dangerous I am."

He sighs, "It's not really about that, but it is being measured today." For a brief second his hand ghosts over your elbow before lightly tugging, like a warning he was going to touch you. "We're not goin' to the gym today."

You look blankly at the doors to the gym you're in nearly every day. "Where are we going?"

Bucky furrows his eyebrows, frowning lightly. "Outside, where else?" You hesitate, seeing the door at the end of the hallway. Once you pass that threshold you're not sure what will happen to you. You'll fight, sure, but after? When they see the extent of your power? What will they do to you? "Is everything okay?"

"I just… Haven't been outside in a long time." You finally muster up, "I’m not sure it’s such a good idea to take me out there.” He looks back and forth between you and the door before he takes the few steps to the metal and pushes it open.

“C’mon,” He jerks his head toward the yard - you can feel the breeze pushing past you and the smell of the freshly mowed grass makes your bones sing. You want to be outside so badly it aches, but you know that once you get a taste of that equilibrium, that freedom, it’ll be just that more bitter to go back to you cell. “I won’t let anythin’ happen to you.” Maybe Bucky doesn’t really know why you’re standing with your knees locked, fingernails digging into your palms but maybe he does. Either way, he’s giving you an out to pretend that you’re scared and not already thinking of what you’re losing before you get it.

You follow Bucky outside. The sunshine on your skin makes your breath catch and then your bare feet hit the grass and everything is whole again. The feeling of being perfectly balanced within your body and everything you can do with it sits heavy, but light, on your chest. Your toes spread and your eyes close without your permission - Bucky chuckles softly, barely heard over the wind, when your head tilts and seeks out the sunshine. “It’s been so long,” You whisper back even though he hadn’t really asked a question, voice clogged and choking on emotions you don’t dare let show on your face, “It feels so good.”

“We’ll have to get you outside more often,” Steve’s voice scares you because you hadn’t heard him leave the compound and you’d been so focused on how being outside makes you feel inside that you hadn’t been paying attention to the outside. Your eyes snap open and instinctually you hike your shoulders to your ears. For a second you’d forgotten who you are, what you are; that’s a surprisingly big feat when Bucky is around and he’d been appointed your de facto Handler. (Or, at least, that’s what you assumed when he kept showing up to every test with Steve and Bruce. Plus, he’d been sent to get you today, when there was a higher chance that you’d react poorly.) “Woah, hey, it’s okay,” He’s dressed in a familiar suit and holding his hands up to appease you. Bucky looks concerned, his left hand flexing as he warms his arm up. “I know these few weeks have been a lot, but we’re almost to the end, okay?”

You nod robotically, “Of course,” It’s hard to hold eye contact with either of them, so you settle on watching how their shoulders brush against each other as they stand, “I’m almost done writing down everything I know.” You’ve been working on that for a while and of course they know, but it’s the first time any of you have mentioned it out loud.

“That’s really amazing,” Steve says earnestly. It’s hard not to believe him when his voice is so sure and full, but you have to remember who you are. You have to remember who you’re not. “Well,” He claps once and then looks back at Bucky, sharing nonverbal communication that you’re not equipped to understand, and then back to you, “The others are waiting for you. I’m sure that Tony wants to go first.” He telegraphs his movements so that it’s not a shock when he claps you on the shoulder. You let Steve lead you toward the others - they’re standing in a group on the other side of a large field watching the three of you. Bucky takes up the rear and you try to ignore the tingling down your spine at having such a formidable opponent behind you.

By the time you make it to where Sam, Tony, Natasha, Bruce, and Wanda are standing you've already figured out the situation. Automatically you know that you’re not going to be facing off against Wanda or Sam - they're dressed far too comfortably. Bruce is wearing what he always does when he’s observing you which is what he wears all of the time: a nice button up shirt and slacks. You can feel incredibly compressed metal around Tony’s wrists and Natasha is in her tactical suit. Cutting a glance to Bucky lets you know that you missed his tactical suit as well. You immediately begin to strategize even though Tony is definitely speaking to you about what this is for - none of that matters because you understand. They either want to know what you can do so that they can control you better or that want to turn you around and use your powers for themselves.

Bucky knocks you out of it by tapping his fingers against the back of your hand as he passes. “You’ll be fine,” He whispers without really moving his lips or speaking up. The only reason you can hear him is because you’re teeming with serum, “Just show us what you can do, okay?”

He follows the others about forty yards away, leaving you and Steve standing next to each other. Steve says something that you can’t hear over the blood rushing in your ears and then moves to stand across from you maybe ten or so feet away. When you finally meet his eyes he gives you that same smile that he gave you when he was trying to calm you down in the dining area so long ago.

Pity. Uncertainty. Maybe a little bit of fear.

It makes your stomach turn.

Instead of saying anything to Steve you just bounce on the balls of your feet and shake out your hands. “I’m ready,” You announce, trying to keep the shake out of your voice but raising it enough that everyone can hear you. Immediately Steve shifts his center of gravity backward and schools his expression. If you weren’t who you are and you didn’t have the training you do, it would be scary how quickly he could go from open and friendly to locked down and determined. There’s a flicker of confusion on his face when you don’t move, instead opting to let your natural senses take a backseat to your supernatural senses. His face swims behind a fog but you can feel his heartbeat picking up with adrenaline, his muscles coiling as he gets ready to move, his lungs expanding and compressing as he breathes.

Once again, you’re stuck with how easily you could kill Captain Steve Rogers. Every instinct that was shocked, beat, burned into you tells you to - you’re made to kill him, and Bucky, and anyone who gets in your way. But you don’t want to kill him, you don’t even want to hurt him. In fact, you’d be perfectly content if they let you stay in your cell for the rest of your damn life and put food through a doggy door. You begin to float away, waiting on orders, but you can’t. You can’t, you can’t, you can’t. You have to stay tethered to your body, fight the Avengers, and prove that you’re worth it.

(Worth what?)

Bucky’s voice comes back to you in wavy echoes. What had he told you? You’d asked him - something, God you’d asked something - and he’d said… Just hard enough not to lose. What had you asked?

Steve’s muscles tense again and it gives you barely a second for your question to tumble through your mind before you have to do something.

How hard do I have to fight?

Just hard enough not to lose.

Steve, with the shield on his back, kicks up dirt as he sprints toward you. It’s easy to dodge left out of the way and avoid the sweeping leg he tries to take you out with. Everything snaps back into place and then you’re using your natural senses and supernatural senses in tandem, in equilibrium, in synchronicity. It’s been so, so long - like stretching a muscle after they’d kept you in a room that was too cramped for too long. It feels exhilarating.

The adrenaline must show on your face because Steve whirls to attack again and stops, cocking his head. You watch him as he watches you and then he’s grinning. “There you are,” He rumbles, looking almost feral, “There’s the fire you woke up with.”

live once, you get to pay twice

keep your nose clean, keep your wheels nice

Potushit ogon - put the fire out

Uspokoit’sya - calm down

Poydem - let’s go

Gde - where

V svoyu komnatu. Tebe nuzhno pospat’ seychas - to your room. you need to sleep now

Ya ponimayu - i understand

#dark in here #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes imagine #stucky x reader #stucky/reader #mcu imagine #marvel imagine

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littlemelaninfics · 2 years

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The War Sector: Chapter 3 || Dark!Stucky Fic

A/N: Read The Lion’s Den and The War Sector first :)

WARNINGS: NON CON/RAPE, mean Stucky, physical abuse, mental abuse, emotional abuse, belting

Steve was sat at the kitchen table with his back towards the basement door when he heard it slowly creak open. Y/n came out first. He heard slow and scattered feet sliding across the kitchen tile of the little cottage.

"Go take a shower," Bucky stated coming out of the basement behind her. Steve took in her physical state and chuckled when Bucky came into view, fixing his pants. Her hair was a mess, pants still down around her calves and her face was bright red. Mostly due to crying, but her face was no stranger to the blow of either soldier. Y/n shuffled down the hall to the bathroom that was still in view of the kitchen and closed the door.

Still sniffling, she sat on the edge of the tub and fully removed her pants and underwear. She removed her shirt and avoided the mirror as she went to the toilet to pee. Her naked and bruised body made its way back to the shower, turning it on.

"Open it!" They said at the same time.

The door creaked open just above a crack,

"Properly", Bucky barked and the door opened a little more. Steve threw his fork down in disappointment like he couldn't believe he has to put up with this shit.

"You brought her here," Steve said gesturing to the door.

"No. We brought her here," Bucky replied looking Captain right in his eyes. His partner in crime knew exactly what he meant as he backed the chair up from the table. The two men made their way to the hall bathroom.

Y/n had finally gotten used to the hot water soothing her aching body when the curtain was ripped open and she was yanked from the tub. Her body hits the cold, hard floor before she screams in terror and pain. She throws her hands up to protect from the unforgiving leather and titanium blows.

Feeling the welts forming from the belt, she scurried back to the tub but Bucky was faster.

"You're not going any fucking where," he seethed into her ear. He started using his left hand to strike her back while Steve freed himself from is trousers once more. Bucky held Y/n facedown on the cold marble counter to allow Steve full access to her stinging holes. He fucked her in each one while she stayed screaming.

"This is how you learn! You're not in. fucking. charge," he said accentuating his violent thrusts.

"This is what is going to happen to you every single fucking day until you get it," Bucky said as he lifted her head to make her watch herself being fucked in the mirror. Steve grunted one last time before shoving his fat cock balls deep in her ass, making her feel dirtier than before.

When they let go of her, she collapsed back onto the floor and cried for Tony.

"TONY! TONY! TONY?" they mocked, "Tony's not fucking coming for you. As far as he knows, you're with family and this mission was too much for you. Don't worry, he got your letter."

"Nooooo," she began sobbing harder as she knew there was officially no way out of here. The walked out of the bathroom, Bucky stopping to rip the door off its hinges,

"Don't close another door."

#steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #chris evans #chris evans smut #dark!chris evans #bucky barnes smut #stucky #Dark!stucky #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers smut

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apollonshootafar · 9 months

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To all fanfic writers esp from my fandoms (hotd and marvel) thank you SO MUCH for think about plots, characters and their personalities, histories, timelines etc AND writing them with such intrigue. Istg every single fanfic ive read is like an actual published book by acclaimed writers. You are so talented and so fucking cool to spend ur time so u can entertain less creative fans such as myself :) people may not comment or reblog ur posts and give u the love u deserve but just know ur works r fuckin awesome and u are too 🥹

#hotd #fanfic #marvel imagines #hotd rhaenyra #hotd aegon #marvel #stucky #dark stucky x reader

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buckyscombatboots · 1 year

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Monstertober Day 7:

Shrine built of lies

Pairing: Occultist!Stucky x Victim!/captured!Reader

Warnings: Non con!!!, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Death, reader is a sacrifice, knife play?, mentions of blood, public sex, voyeurism, humiliation, implied cult, mystery demon, choking, blood kink, Dark!Stucky, p in v, oral (male receiving) , spitting in readers mouth, dacryphilia, manipulation, betrayal of trust

Nicknames: Doll, Dove

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: Who do you guys think the mysterious demon is? It’ll be revealed tomorrow 😏 and I may make a sequel of this featuring the aftermath and this particular demon 😈

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

From behind your eyelids you can feel a blaring light on your face, your body is uncomfortably warm; sweat rolling down your temple, your clothes damp—sticking to your body almost as if it was a summer afternoon, but it was October. Your mouth feels as if it’s stuffed with cotton wool—you move your tongue around and swallow to generate saliva, but a painful ache radiates in your throat as you do. There’s a mass of indistinct mumbling, so intune that it’s like the thrumming of a hive of bees. You keep your eyes closed, moving your hand across the cool stone feeling a smooth, waxy residue as you soak up the coolness. You don’t remember falling asleep and you definitely weren’t in your house, you think you must have fallen asleep during your lunch break.

Sluggishly you open your heavy eyelids, squinting as the light dominates your vision. Slowly you adjust, opening your eyes fully and you let your eyes wander around you. You’re surrounded by people in black robes, they’re hanging over you; they’re black hoods covering their face as they chant. You’re surrounded by heaps of long, white pillar candles, the hot wax dripping onto the stone slab you were laid on. You try to move your arm but the jangle of a chain pauses your movements, the copper scent of your own blood reaches your nose; your wrists are rubbed raw from you moving in your sleep. The people stop chanting and begin to shuffle away from you, moving as if they are all sewed together—so synchronised that it’s horrifying. As they move away you can see more of your surroundings. Intricately carved, Chalky, white pillars decorated with crooked crosses and dripping taper candles. You were in a cathedral, facing the massive wooden doors. The people at your feet began to part, allowing you to see two men approaching briskly. Their black robes more ornate than the others; decorated with silver and red embroidery, jewels and rosaries. At the bottom of the altar they split, one going to your left, the other going to your right. They pushback their hoods allowing you to see their faces, your eyes go wide.

“Hiya, Doll.” Bucky’s familiar smooth Brooklyn accent reaches your ears, and even though you’re chained to an altar, in clothes that are not your own and he and Steve are more than likely responsible. Your face burns and you begin to tingle, your hole fluttering in response to his voice.

“Did you have a nice nap, Dove? You made our coffees just how we like them, you were so preoccupied that you didn’t even notice Buck slipping something into your own drink.”

They were responsible.

You knew they were, but hearing Steve confess made the betrayal sting just a bit more. As if they were twisting the knives they’d both stabbed in your back. You had made these two coffee everyday for almost two months straight, you got to know about their childhoods; how Bucky used to protect Steve when he was scrawny and used to get into street fights, you learnt they joined the military together and now they lived together. You trusted them. They were the favourite part of your shift and now they've betrayed you. The guilt took the form of a lump in your throat as tears brimmed your eyes. You thought they liked you, you thought they were flirting with you—that they wanted you to be a part of their lives. Tears rolled down your burning cheeks “Don’t cry, Doll, you’re safe. You’re with us Steve and Bucky, history professor and personal trainer. That’s the lie we told you wasn’t it? Or was that the last one?”

“Aw Buck, look at her. Her whole world’s fallin’ apart. Be gentle with her, or don’t it’ll be more fun if you’re not.” This Steve was completely different from the bashful, kind man who frequented the coffee shop you worked at. They both were, they were completely different, the dichotomy was terrifying. The fact they had both been so deceitful and created completely alternate personalities just to be able to kidnap and kill you for some freaky cult made the anguish inside you boil into indignation.

“What the fuck is going on!?” You screeched the venom left from their treachery laced in your words.

Bucky slaps you harshly across the face “Don’t use that type of language. Doll. It’s not ladylike, and it’s especially inappropriate in this place of worship. This is a sacred place for the Holy Army of Hydra. We didn’t lie completely, after all we were in the army and now we’re in a different kind of army.”

One of the cloaked followers breaks from the line and scuttles over to Steve, whispering into his ear “Bucky, it’s almost time. We need to start the ceremony soon, or it’ll be too late.”

“What ceremony?”

“That's why you’re here, Doll, you’re our virgin sacrifice that we’re going to corrupt and then offer to our Lord.” Your mouth hung open as you stared at him wide eyed in disbelief. Bucky stroked his rough knuckles against your soft cheek as he shushed you “Shhh, there’s no need to be scared, Doll. You’re gonna be helping us and you’ll feel so much pleasure before we end your pathetic, meaningless little life. All you did with your life was make coffees for minimum wage, you won’t miss livin’ much.” His honeyed words only made your eyes leak more, he gave you a twisted smile as you began to sniffle your tears turning into full on sobs “Keep going you're makin me harder. I love it when they cry.”

“You’re so pretty when you cry, little Dove. I just wanna hit you more. Maybe strangle you, watch you choke on your own congealed spit and tears.” You shied away from his touch as he reached for your neck, but you couldn’t go far thanks to your restraints “Just one of my hands fits around your entire neck” he gave a little squeeze, smirking as you coughed and then he flashed the warm smile he gave you when he first entered the coffee shop two month prior. The smile that made you instantly fall in love with him, the smile you saw in your dream when you imagined your future with them both. He gave you that smile and tightened his grip, they both laughed as you flailed your arms about—trying to reach him to get him to stop, as you began to choke feeling all the oxygen quickly drain from your lungs. You were gasping for air like a fish out of water and then he let go “Breathe. You’re gonna need it, Dove.”

“And Now loyal followers! We will begin the ritual, close the circle around us. Don’t let go of each other's hands or you’ll make our Lord angry, so no matter what you must hold hands and not break the chant. Begin.”

Bucky ran his hand across the smooth surface of the altar as strode to where your feet were. He climbed on to it, using his strength to bend your legs at the knee, even despite your resistance, and positioned himself between your legs. The white chemise bunch at your hips leaving your bare pussy on display for all to see. “You’re dripping for us, Doll. Do you like being watched? Do you like being captured and held against your will? Does the prospect of being released from the painful existence of this mortal coil excite you?” You furiously shook your head, biting on your lip to suppress a whimper as he ran a hot finger through your folds “Your body is honest, why aren’t you?” He held out his slick covered fingers to Steve and he gladly took them into his mouth.

“So tasty, Dove.” He praised, turning your head on its side to face him “Open your mouth, suck me off. No teeth.” Hesitantly you opened your mouth, Steve slapped his dick against your cheek leaving sticky precum on your in it’s wake before shoving his full length down your throat. You gaged around him, making your throat restrict around him; you could feel every single vein on his shaft and you felt it twitch as you gagged again. Steve groaned in response, taking a handful of your hair as leverage as he abused your throat.

The pain in your jaw was overridden by the blistering ache of Bucky’s thick dick splitting you open. You choked as you tried to scream, digging your nails into Steve’s thigh till you drew blood. The action only made him quicken his thrusts.

“Fuckkk. She feels like silk, Stevie”

Steve swiftly pulled his member out of your mouth and walked over to the end of the altar behind Bucky, his throbbing, wet dick bobbing against his pelvis as he walked. “Change position, I want to feel you around me.” Steve orders, the dominance in his words making the man tearing you apart bite his lip. He complied, shifting his position of being crouched on his knees, to him placing one hand next to your head and using the other to drag your legs around his hips; so he could still thrust into you whilst presenting himself to the approaching blonde. Steve crawled behind him kneeling down, he spat on his fingers and smeared it on Bucky’s clenching rosebud, giving Bucky the care and gentleness that the brunette had skipped over before he shoved himself inside you. “That’s it, open up for me Buck. You’re always so tight when I fuck whilst you’re getting your cock squeezed.” Bucky choked out a moan as Steve scissored his fingers, his thrusts stopped momentarily when Steve slipped inside.

His fist next to your head pounded into the hard stone of the altar as he let out a low moan “God, Steve…F-feels great. She’s really squeezing now, do you like watching Steve fuck me, you little pervert?” His tittering was cut short as Steve began to thrust, making his hips involuntarily move in tandem. The chant of the cultist faded to white noise as pain eventually became pleasure. Bucky’s thrust became less brutal and more loving as Steve thrusted into him slowly and rhythmically, his hands caressing Bucky’s body over the robe. A pleasurable heat swept through you, your clit tingling as Bucky puffed warm breathes down onto you “Get lost in the pleasure, it’s not so bad after all is it.”

“I-I h-hate you.” You whined as the head of Bucky’s cock nudge against the sweet spot inside you. Your mouth opened in a silent wail and Bucky spat into your open mouth.

“Swallow my spit. Be- ah Be grateful.” He scowled at you as he waited expectantly, you did as he said swallowing down his spit “Such a good Doll.” He cooed, his praise made you keen and tighten. Bucky slammed into you brutally, chuckling at your yelp. You were so embarrassed, but God if it didn’t feel good. You had completely forgotten about the circle of chanting people surrounding you. The only thing that existed right now was Bucky, Steve and the pleasure they were drawing from you.

“cummming! Gonna cum!” You exclaimed feeling the heated tingle in your lower belly becoming unbearable.

“Cum. Do it. Make Buck cum, so he can make me cum.” Steve’s deep commanding voice was the final push you needed for your eyes to roll back into your head and your pussy to constrict around Bucky making him cum with a whimpered fuck, pouring so much of his hot cum into you that it began to leak from adding to the puddle of your juices below your hips. Steve wasn’t far behind; forcing Bucky back into his hips with such force you thought he’d dislocate his hip as he came.

Your vision slowly returned, and just as you were no longer seeing only white, from seemingly nowhere Bucky pulled out a highly decorated, sharp dagger and carved a heart into your chest. You yanked at your restraints screaming like a banshee as the knife cut through your flesh, the agony only intensified when Bucky dipped his head and sucked at the fresh wound. He pulled away, licking the blood from his lips, as if it were simply red wine. Steve leaned over towards Bucky, capturing his blood stained lips in a passionate kiss. Moaning as the metallic taste of your blood entered his mouth, his scar littered hands take hold of the dark fabric of Bucky’s robe pulling him closer so he can devour Bucky’s lips; his tongue searching for traces of your blood whilst entangled with Bucky’s. Steve breaks the kiss, leaving Buck a panting mess on top of you, and he dips his head down to the incision Bucky made over your heart sucking blood from the leaking wound like a starved animal making you scream as he pulls at the damaged skin with his teeth. Bucky cards his fingers through Steve’s golden hair as he feasts “That’s it Stevie drink your fill, she tastes so delectable doesn’t she?” Steve hums in response sending vibrations through the throbbing cut making you squeal “You need to stop so she doesn’t pass out before the ritual is complete.” He tries to remove Steve but he growls at Bucky giving him a dark, animalistic scowl as he digs his nails into the skin of your arm “Punk. I said let go.” Bucky yanks his hair making Steve stop and come up from your chest, his face smeared with your blood.

“I’m hungry, Buck. Her blood is so fucking good. I’m hard again.” He mumbles, taking his hard cock into his hand and pumping it.

Bucky slips off the altar and pulls Steve close, running his tongue across Steve’s bloodied cheek and then starts sucking your blood out of his beard; whilst rubbing the pad of his thumb across the slit of Steve’s dick. “They’ll be time to feast on her more later…and take care of other things, but right now we need to complete the ritual. Practice patience, like the Lord commands.” They parted ways again, both returning to their respective places—Bucky on your left, Steve on your right. They both took hold of the dagger, raising it high so the warm light of the candles cast fragments of light around the cathedral

“Please! No! Please!” You cry, whimpering as you try to curl your body away from the path of the knife.

“May our Lord receive our offering.” They both chant, plunge the knife into your throat. Steve immediately lets go, but Bucky pulls out the knife and makes a slit horizontally across your neck. Blood spurts in streams from your neck, like an elegant fountain in a town plaza. The men chanting raise their heads and push back their hoods—moving in unison. They all collect some of your blood onto their fingers and draw a symbol on their foreheads “May our lord receive our offering.” They drone simultaneously. A cold rush of air blows through the cathedral, all the candles blow out leaving them in utter darkness.

“James. What’s going on?” Steve’s voice quivers as he asks, turning his face towards Bucky to try and look into his eyes from comfort. It was impossible to see.

“I don’t know. Steven. None of this shit is meant to be real.” He spat, nerves sending a wave of goosebumps across his skin. His hand sought for Steve’s, entwining his fingers with his for some security. He knew Steve was going to be pissed at him, he thought it was all real after all. It was meant to be fake and only Bucky was meant to know that.

Steve opened his mouth to speak but a booming voice began “Your Lord has arrived. I thank you for the gifts, but I think I want a few more. Maybe all of your souls will suffice.”

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biteofcherry · 4 months

Text

Drip

stucky x female reader

Bucky Barnes x female reader x Steve Rogers; Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

summary: Bucky and Steve graciously make your fantasy of watching them together come true. But it comes for a price. One you may have not be prepared for.

warnings: smut; consensual; D/s undertones; power imbalance; hints of voyeurism; blowjob; handjob; orgasm denial; a small dose of degradation

Masterlist

You could never keep a poker face and you were rather shitty at being stealthy, so it wasn't a surprise that the two supersoldiers noticed the glances you stole their way on occasions.

They probably recognized more than glances, since you couldn't help but feel hot all over and clenched whenever you saw the two of them kiss. Or show any brief touch of intimacy.

Their relationship wasn't a secret, but Steve and Bucky weren't big on public displays of affection.

Around the compound they acted professional and sweet, presenting a healthy dose of love for each other. Perfect, charming gentlemen.

It only spurred your imagination further, as you spent nights in your bed with your hand between your thighs, thinking of how passionate they were with each other when no one was looking.

When they cornered you in an empty corridor, after you did a quick inventory of the quinjet post-mission, you had no quick wit to bullshit your way out of the trouble.

However, the expected lecture on being inappropriate (and perhaps relocated to a different post for making them feel uncomfortable and objectified) didn't happen.

Instead, you were invited to join them in the shower.

You really should've said no. Show them that your fantasies had their limit and you weren't a perv eager to become a true voyeur.

But there was something in the way they spoke to you that was coercive.

Steve’s tone wasn’t exactly an order, but it was shaped like an invitation you couldn’t refuse, or else there would be consequences (even if no threat was laid).

Bucky somehow steered your body, so that you were already walking along with them while they revealed they’ve caught you staring at them on multiple occasions. They weren't a flirtatious types, but they were acutely aware when someone desired them. Especially when that someone was really bad at hiding that craving.

Embarrassment swallowed you whole, making you squirm as you padded between the two men. Then a rush of adrenaline and excitement won, clouding your better judgment as they asked for your final decision.

If it was to be your last day of work for the Avengers, you would at least be an unemployed pervert who got to see Captain America and Winter Soldier naked and touching.

A currency no salary could match.

Though your bravado dispersed as you stepped into the showers few minutes later.

You felt uncertain as you took small steps across the wood-imitating tiles. The spa-like design of the compound’s bathrooms not working its calming magic at the moment.

As you approached the two men, who were already naked and standing under the sprays, your own nudity and body consciousness made you curl in on yourself.

"Are you sure it's okay?" You asked, stopping a few steps away.

You weaved one of your arms across your breasts, the other nervously around your middle as you squeezed your thighs.

For a fleeting moment you hoped they’d change their mind and you get to run away to hide in shame. It would be mortifying, but less than actually exposing yourself and your reactions to them.

Funny how it was supposed about you watching them, but turned into you being put into a more vulnerable position.

Somehow it skipped your horny mind that you would be naked and alone with two handsome, very powerful and overwhelming men.

Their heated, dark gazes locked on you made your heart rate accelerate, enhancing the sense of being the main entertainment of this whole arrangement.

Suddenly, the charming, protective Captain and sweet, quiet Soldier were gone and instead you were facing the stifling flame of hunger of potential predators. It was more potent than what your needy imagination provided. Perhaps more than you were really able to handle.

Steve’s gaze slid over you from head to toe, so slow and intense it felt as if he touched you with his fingers.

Your nipples instantly pebbled.

"If we weren't fine with you dripping down your thighs as you watch us, we wouldn't ask you to join us in the shower."

Fuck.

If he kept talking like that, in that lower, deeper tone, you really would be dripping down your thighs for them in no time.

It was Bucky who moved toward you, taking slow, but sure steps. Gently, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and pulled your arm away from your chest. When your breasts were displayed fully, you heard a synchronized purr of approval.

He guided you to stand between two sprays then pushed you back slightly, until your back hit the tiled wall.

Some drops of water bounced your way, but mostly it was the warm mist settling on your skin in the little safe nook Bucky put you in.

A front row to watch the two of them just mere inches away from you.

Water cascaded down their naked bodies. Your eyes couldn’t catch up with all the trickles, though you so desperately wanted to study them all. Lavish with your tongue each contour of muscle and crevice. Trace the veins that protruded down their arms and just above hip and curving down onto…

"You like what you see, starburst?" Bucky hummed, forcing your gaze to snap up to his.

The nickname was something new. They always addressed you by your name. But you had no trouble realizing what inspired this one - they had to notice the small tattoo on your hip.

Swirls of gray in Bucky’s blue irises seemed warmer than ever before. His mouth was curved in an amused smile, making your heart flutter silly as if you were a teenage girl offered a flash of interest from the boy you had a crush on.

Bucky lathered his hands with soap and he moved them across Steve’s chest, up to his neck then down his arms; stroking those sculpted muscles.

You followed that movement nearly whimpering in despair that it wasn’t you who got to touch.

"He's magnificent, isn't he?" Bucky’s hands traveled all over Steve’s body, while his gaze remained locked on you.

"Would you like to worship his perfect body?" He asked.

At your eager nod something glinted in his eyes. Bucky’s voice resounded with a dark command, even as his face remained softly serene:

"Then drop to your knees, doll. Worshipers are on their knees before their gods."

Before you fully comprehended the undertone of degradation in the latter sentence, your knees were already hitting the tiles.

As Bucky’s fingers ran down Steve’s stomach then wrapped around the base of his dick, your fingernails dug into the skin of your thighs as tingles of arousal pulled at your nipples and your clit.

"And that cock? Are you aching for that gorgeous, thick cock?" Bucky rasped, stroking Steve steadily.

Steve’s own hand was gripping the back of Bucky’s head, fingers tangled in wet, dark locks. Though his lips were parted on small, pleasant grunts, which he didn’t bother to hide, Steve’s eyes remained focused on you. Drinking in all the reactions showing on your beautiful face.

"Bet you'd love to run your tongue along that vein." Bucky moaned himself as he squeezed Steve tighter.

Your tongue seemed to dart out to lick your lips out of its own volition. Your hands moved, too. One up to cup your breast, the other diving between your thighs.

"Are you thinking about it, starburst?” Steve asked, nudging Bucky’s hand away and taking a step towards you. Water washed out all the remaining suds off his body, giving you an unobscured view of the glory that was his cock.

“Imagining how you'd cry as it stretched your little pussy?"

Your little pussy clenched in fear and arousal at the thought of being filled with it. Even your bolder toys couldn’t compare in size.

"And what about Bucky's cock, hm?” Steve’s hand splayed on Bucky’s hip when his partner came closer.

With his other hand he cupped Bucky’s balls, drawing a loud grunt of pleasure from him. Then he ran his fingertips along the underside of Bucky’s cock, before fisting it.

“Big and long.” Steve gave a few leisurely strokes. “Do you know how deep in your tight ass he could go?"

You weren’t thinking of it - of anyone in your ass - up until now.

“Oh Stevie,” Bucky chuckled against Steve’s shoulder, where he was peppering kisses and licks, “I think our little starburst has been thinking about my cock up your ass all this time and missed the opportunity to imagine how it could fill her dirty hole.”

Fingers still wrapped around Bucky’s girth, Steve angled his head to the side. His nose brushed against Bucky’s almost affectionately and then their lips were meeting in a sensual kiss.

Forced to decide between watching their kiss and Bucky’s dick twitching in Steve’s hand, you let out a pathetic whimper. Your own fingers rubbed tight circles on your aching clit. Tongue itched to lick up the red tip of Bucky’s cock.

“I don’t blame her,” Steve rasped when they parted, “I love having you in my ass, too. Almost as much as I love taking yours.”

Bucky’s soft laughter didn’t diminish the hotness of the scene. Quite the contrary, the intimacy of it that you were graciously allowed into was making you even more needy.

Maybe the sinful beauty of their bodies was only a veneer of what you were truly craving. Maybe it's their deep connection and devotion that you got off on, dreaming of experiencing it yourself. Of being loved so strongly.

“Bet she’s thinking about it now.” Their gazes returned to you. “Look at those small fingers trying to satisfy her.”

“Cute,” Steve snorted, but then his eyes narrowed. “Who told you that you could touch yourself, starburst?”

“I-” you stuttered, feeling a wave of shame burn your cheeks from the inside.

“Hands off.” He commanded and somehow you complied immediately. “You need them free to take care of us, little worshiper.”

Your eyes widened as you stared up at them. When this whole event began, you were convinced it would just be a twisted little fantasy combined - you watching them, them enjoying being watched.

A hush little encounter with minimum interaction.

Not only they broke down all the private space limits, but pushed it into entanglement you rarely even dared to fantasize about.

They moved even closer; their cocks inches from your face as they looked down at you like the gods you made them to be.

"Be of service, starburst." Bucky ran a single digit along your cheek.

"Come on. We know you get off on not only imagining the two of us together, but also being with us. This is your chance to earn it."

You gulped as his finger touched your bottom lip then slipped into your mouth. For a short second, but it was enough of an indication how far they wanted to push it.

“Show us how much you want it.” Steve rocked his hips forward, teasing the tip of his dick along your cheek. “How thankful you are to be here.”

Hesitation in your movement wasn’t due to discomfort of touching them, but because you didn’t have much experience in the matter. Sure, you gave some quick handjobs and sucked dick before, but it all seemed awkward and poor quality to what Steve and Bucky deserved.

Perhaps they sensed your nervousness, or maybe they really liked your touch, but the moment you wrapped your small hands around their cocks the praise fell from their lips almost instantly.

“Doing good, starburst.” Bucky stroked your head. “Just follow what you always imagined.”

At first you tried to keep the same rhythm on both shafts, but you weren’t that well coordinated. It didn’t matter though, as you quickly noticed each of them liked things a little different anyway.

Bucky moaned at the measured stroke with more squeeze around the leaking tip, while Steve encouraged you to twist your wrist.

As their sounds of pleasure grew muffled, you flicked up your gaze. The sight of them kissing and touching each other elicited another jolt of arousal; your own lips parting on a quiet moan.

The puff of your breath tickled the angry red head of Steve’s dick, which twitched in your hand in response. It was all the temptation you needed to open your mouth and taste him.

Your scientific knowledge wasn’t impressive, but you wondered if it was possible that the serum enhanced that part, because you swore the flavor of Steve on your tongue made you wetter.

Hollowing your cheeks, you sucked harder. You couldn’t get him much deeper, your gag reflex was too strong to try pushing it at the moment, but you were adamant on making it as satisfying for them as you could.

After a few beats you switched, swallowing Bucky's cock while you quickened the pace of your strokes on Steve’s dick. Every few moments you glanced up at them, feeding your own pleasure with the sight of them touching each other.

"Such a good pet." Steve’s praise spurred you on.

Bucky groaned out your real name when you squeezed his balls while suckling on his tip. One of his hands landed on the back of your head, pushing you further down his length. He relented when you choked, but you suspected if encounters like that were to happen in the future, he would at some point deep throat you.

“Do you want your reward, starburst?” Bucky pulled out, wrapping his own hand around his cock.

Steve guided your fingers to massage his balls as he too fisted his cock.

You didn’t expect arousal could spike even higher when you were already so drunk on it. But the idea of them cumming in front of you, for you, was like an electric current that sizzled your brain into mush.

“Yes, please,” you nodded eagerly, licking your lips.

“You can close your eyes, but keep your mouth open and your tongue out.” Steve instructed, his voice strained as he tried to withhold his climax a few more seconds.

“Fuck,” you heard Bucky curse as you closed your eyes and tilted your face up, obediently opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. “So fucking beautiful, little worshiper.”

Slick sound of quick strokes combined with the rainy hum of cascading water and the unrestricted moans of two men. Even your own heartbeat seemed to quiet so that you could enjoy the sexy sounds.

Then warm splashes hit your face. Landed on your tongue, but also across your cheeks and forehead, some dribbled down your chin.

You waited with your open mouth until they were fully spent, which took more time than expected, before swallowing everything that landed on your tongue.

“Good girl, starburst.” They swiped ribbons of cum off your face with their fingers, pushing them into your mouth for you to swallow all of it.

Then one of them easily lifted you up onto your feet and pulled you under a warm spray of water. Though your legs were shaking a bit, two bodies sandwiching you between them provided support.

“Let's get you cleaned." Bucky’s voice was a soft coo in your ear as he massaged shampoo onto your scalp.

Steve lathered your body with soap, stroking everywhere and yet not where you needed it the most. Though satisfied with making them cum, your body was still thrumming with need. One you were impatient to take care of.

"Please!” You arched against Bucky, pushing your chest towards Steve’s wandering hands. You parted your legs wider. “Please, please, I-"

"No." Bucky’s tone remained calm, but his words were firm. "You don't get to cum. Not yet."

“Little worshipers think of their gods’ needs and wishes first.” Despite the degrading and condescending meaning of his words, Bucky made them sound like a soft, caring compliment.

“And accept their fate, even if it’s to wait for their orgasm for eternity.”

"You've been such a good girl so far, starburst.” Steve squeezed your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing your gaze to meet his through the falling drops. “I know you can still be obedient and wait for the special reward. Right?"

“Y-yes, Steve.” Your heart pounded at the prospect of getting more from them.

Even if at the moment it was more torment than pleasure.

" ’Atta girl." He smiled. "Now let’s rinse you. Then you can go dry up and dress nicely. We’ll take you out for dinner.”

#stucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #stucky x you #stucky x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes x steve rogers #stucky imagine #stucky smut #drip #little worshiper universe #I think I'd bee adding more into this universe in the future so I wanted to name it something #my writing #bucky barnes x female reader x steve rogers #bucky barnes x you x steve rogers

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darkdarkstucky · 2 years

Text

Pretty, S. Rogers and B. Barnes.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ Pretty

Pairing; Soft!Dark Stucky x Reader, Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Reader, Soft!Dark Steve Rogers x Reader.

Warnings; Sexual themes, Adult content, Manipulation, Possessiveness, Soft!Dark Stucky, Married Stucky, Gaslighting Stucky, Age Gap (Steve is 40, Bucky is 39, Reader is 19) Please do not interact if it makes you uncomfortable!

ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ MASTERLIST

♡ chapter one

♡ chapter two

♡ chapter three

♡ chapter four

♡ chapter five

#steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #steve x reader #soft!dark steve rogers #soft!dark bucky barnes #soft!dark stucky #stucky x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #steve imagine #steve fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic

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myfictionaldreams · 7 months

Text

Day 1: Pegging - Mafia!Stucky

Summary: Steve had once instructed Bucky how to pleasure you, but what happens when you’re the one being given the instructions?

(this is basically part 2.5 to my fic 'Steve's Birthday Wish') Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, threesome f/m/m, polyamorous, pegging, strap-on, size kink, dom/sub, pet names, scratching, kissing, handjob, blowjob, anal fingering, anal, vaginal sex, creampie, praise kink

masterlist 📚

kinktober masterlist😈

AO3 Link

Steve Rogers, the leader of the Rogers Mafia, the most renowned organisation throughout Brooklyn, was a highly inquisitive gang member. He had to be in his line of work to continue deceiving the cops or work with people who were so dangerous he didn’t dare to even blink more than necessary whilst in their presence.

Due to the threatening line of work, Steve had to be prepared for anything, making quick decisions to protect his friends, family and business in the heat of the moment. Over time, this could strain him, verging on feeling burnt out; therefore, he needed others to cling to and help unwind, where you and Bucky would always thrive.

However, it wasn’t so much that Steve would lie down and expect the two of you to care or pleasure him; it was quite the opposite. His ideas usually consisted of kinky scenarios you would never even dream of thinking about. For example, the only reason Bucky was in the relationship now was that Steve had suggested that his second-in-command fuck his girlfriend whilst following his instructions with where to touch you. Never would the thought have crossed your mind to include Bucky in a sexual situation as not only was he your bodyguard but Steve’s best friend, but now, the three of you were inseparable, and you couldn’t imagine it any other way.

This all leads to a dark autumn night, the leaves covering the ground in a sea of burnt orange and brown shades, the sun having set hours ago over the tall Brooklyn buildings as the weather changes. These earlier nights, however, did nothing to stop Steve with his intense working schedule, and neither did it for Bucky, as they both had been in the office at your home for hours on end. Even as you wished them a good night did neither man stop to have a break; only when Bucky glanced at the clock and saw that it was nearing midnight did he mutter that he was going to join you in bed, kissing Steve’s temple tenderly and murmuring for him not to be long. He all but collapsed into bed, only just managing to strip down to his boxers before wrapping his body around yours, his metal arm sliding beneath your head as the other cocooned around your chest and hand resting over your heart, his face nuzzling into the back of your neck as the feeling of your heartbeat lulled him into a deep sleep.

Sometime later, you found yourself waking, detecting warmth behind you but not in front, which felt unnerving and like something was missing, which happened to be Steve. Carefully reaching across the bed, you grasped your phone and clicked the button to see the time was nearing 3 a.m. and still no sign of your blonde boyfriend.

“Is he still working?” Bucky’s voice croaked, startling you, having not realised he had woken from your slight movement.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go and find him”, you respond whilst untangling your limbs from his. Bucky sighed away, the sleep still settled heavily in his body, before following you, not bothering to pull on any clothes as you’d stolen his oversized shirt from where it lay on the floor. It took only seconds to walk across the hall and find Steve in the same position as hours ago. Your voice was soft as you explained, “Steve, you can’t work 24 hours a day; you must sleep at some point. The bed’s getting so cold without you.” Your bottom lip pouted dramatically as you stood on the other side of his desk, looking at him with wide, sad eyes and fingers teasingly stroking the edge of the oak surface.

The corner of Steve’s lips turned up as he took in your sleepy appearance and then over to his just as tired boyfriend over your shoulder. “Is Bucky not keeping you warm?” he asked, his voice deep and full of jest.

Bucky rushed up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush against him as you squealed in surprise, “I’m doing a perfect job, actually”. You melted into the embrace, tilting your head to the side so he could dramatically kiss your cheek with an audible smooch noise.

The brunette man dropped into the leather chair behind him, pulling you with him. You laughed at the sudden movement but quickly righted your position to feel more comfortable, turning slightly so that your legs were slung over his lap, hands resting against his toned shoulder and face resting on his chest.

Steve watched you curiously, especially the skin of your bare legs as he rested his chin on his closed fist, the material of his black button-up shirt straining to keep his muscles contained. You noticed the look and gave him a flirtatious smile whilst reaching up to scratch your nails through Bucky’s buzzcut hair. “What’s going on that’s keeping you up for so long and can’t wait for the morning?”

Steve sighed and leaned back in his bulky leather chair, causing it to squeak under the strain of his massive muscular body. For once, Steve looked to be contemplating something and being careful how to phrase his words before explaining, “I’ve actually been thinking about you two and distracting myself with work”.

You could feel Bucky adjusting his position as he frowned, “What about us, Stevie?” His tone was calm, but you became more aware, fingers pausing with their idle distractions as your attention fixed completely on Steve.

“I’ve bought you both a present”, Steve simply explained, offering no further description and leaving you both with more questions than answers.

“Are you going to tell us, or will we forever remain in suspense?” Bucky drawled tiredly, his hand beginning to stroke a swirling pattern against your ticklish thigh.

You yawned from the comforting touch, leaning further into Bucky again, eyes feeling increasingly heavier with each passing second as you struggled to stay awake.

Steve’s ocean-blue eyes flicked between his two lovers as he continued to be careful with his wording. “I’m not being upfront about the gift because I’m unsure if you’d be into it. Wait, let me rephrase that, Bucky, I know you’d be into it, and I sure as hell would be, but little miss Sleepy head over there is the one I’m not sure about”.

Your posture straightened as you pushed off Bucky’s chest to give Steve a toothy grin, “I’d be up for whatever you have bought us!” you say happily, being a people pleaser and automatically agreeing to it.

Steve smiled, knowing you’d already give this sort of response. “You don’t even know what it is yet, baby”, he laughs under his breath before reaching next to his chair and lifting the gift onto the desk.

A confused frown settled on your expression as you visually inspected the boxed gift. “You want to fuck me with a dildo? But you’ve both done that in the past anyway-” Steve’s shake of his head stopped your words.

The man then looked away from you towards Bucky and asked, “Do you remember the first time Bucky touched you? I want to do something similar, but I want you to touch Bucky while I tell you what to do. How does that sound?” His eyes flicked back to you, waiting for your answer.

“Good. It sounds good.” Your words came out with a rushed, warmed breath as your body heated from head to toe; all lingering exhaustion suddenly disappeared. You thought more on it; you were always the submissive one in the relationship, so at least Steve was still technically in charge of the fucking, but the thought of Bucky lying down with you pleasuring him in such an intimate and dominant way, him allowing you to fuck his body, would he even want that? Sitting in Bucky’s embrace, you turned your full attention to him. “How do you feel about it?”

The handsome smirk already displayed across his face was answer enough, but then he readjusted in his seat so that his half-hardening cock brushed against your lap. Bucky leaned his face closer to yours, confidently stating, “I’d want anything you’re willing to give me, mama”.

And this was how Steve’s latest idea had you standing in your bathroom at 3:30 am, completely naked and stepping into a harness as Steve crouched down to help you into it, tightening the straps until comfortable. You were surprised just how cosy it was as the straps wrapped around your hips and between your legs, resting over your cunt without irritation.

Looking down, you couldn’t help but giggle at seeing the dildo pointing out from between your legs. It was thick, probably the same thickness as Steve, which you had a secret suspicion was on purpose; it even had veins along the shafts and balls beneath. Almost on instinct, you gripped it, running your hand up and down just to feel what it was like, but then the searing gaze of Steve’s caught your eye as his hands rested on your thighs.

“Why does that turn me on so much?” Steve mumbled as he stood, dipping to kiss the pulse point on your neck. You lean into the touch, especially as his hands grasp your waist and pull you closer to his naked body, his cock already hard and flush against your abdomen. “I’m half tempted to just ask you to use it on me”, Steve suggested, leaning back to look down at your body to stare at the toy that rested against his thigh.

Before you could ponder over his words, he gently directed you back towards the bedroom where Bucky was naked and lying in the middle of the giant bed, his metal arm casually under his head as he waited for you both to return.

Bucky’s cock was already hard with anticipation and resting against his abdomen, red and visibly pulsing with desire. His eyes darted from your fake cock to Steve’s real one, a smile brightening his handsome face as he sat up on his elbows, announcing, “I can’t fucking wait for this”.

The warmth behind your back disappeared as Steve dragged a cushioned chair to the side of the bed, extending his arm towards Bucky to encourage you to approach your boyfriend. Bucky licked his lips, sitting up fully to help you climb onto the bed and straddle his lap, hands resting on his shoulders and the dildo awkwardly hitting Bucky’s chest as you hadn’t been careful where it was positioned.

You giggled, flustered, hiding your face behind your hair to avoid ruining the moment, but Bucky tilted your chin up so your eyes met his bright blue orbs. “Don’t hide that pretty face from me, Doll”.

The tension that you hadn’t realised was thick in your shoulders loosened as you relaxed further into his touch, fingers caressing his cheeks and gliding over his stubble as his cold and warm hand smoothed over your hips, pulling you closer over his thighs as your dildo brushed his cock. The two of you simultaneously turned towards Steve, waiting for instructions. Still, all he was doing was looking happily and lovingly at you both before he decided, “Kiss each other, make sure you tease him real good, Baby”.

You looked from one man to another and didn’t waste another second before pulling Bucky in for a heated kiss. Lips slid and massaged against each other as he tilted his head first, deepening and thrusting his tongue into your mouth to taste you, moaning as he did so. It was an automatic response to roll your hips and then brush your breasts against his chest, your nipples pebbling at the contact.

Then there were your fingers; you didn’t know where to touch him first because you wanted to touch him everywhere. But you remained on his face for a moment, over his cheek, his jaw, pulling him closer and holding him there before moving to other areas. Your nails scratched over his shoulders, careful not to irate the joining between his flesh and metal arm before running your fingers down each of his muscled arms, enjoying the contrast of the metal components and then the warmth from his muscles on the other arm.

You were loving every hitch of his breath against your mouth, the throb of his cock that brushed against your thigh, but then, Bucky was doing his own teasing. His large hands cupped your arse, massaging the cheeks and pulling you closer until there wasn’t a gap between your fronts. Both of you were grinding against each other, releasing sweet little moans to show how much you were adoring the other.

In fact, the two of you were getting so into it that the whole notion of the strap-on was a distant memory until Steve’s voice interrupted as he instructed, “Bucky, why don’t you touch her cock”.

You couldn’t feel anything at first because it was a sex toy, but then the harness straps tightened around your hips and between your legs, as Bucky's metal hand moved up and down your thick shaft. You broke the kiss, desperate to see the sight as you looked down between your bodies as he even brushed his thumb over the tip as if he was spreading the precum over the dildo. You were mesmerised, moving your hips in a way that the cock brushed into his circled fist.

Bucky was breathing heavily as he moved his lips to your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses and then scraping his sharp, straight teeth against your pulse point, making your moans deepen in pitch, more wetness forming between your legs and soaking the harness strap.

It was a new form of erotism to see Bucky jerking off your fake cock, as if it was a real one; even though you had seen him doing the same movements to Steve, it still made you feel hot under the skin. Especially when you could see how much he was being turned on by it all, his precum coating your thigh from where you were grinding against his shaft.

Steve was leaning forward in the chair, his hands clasped together as he rested them on his knees, his eyes moving up and down your bodies as he tried to not touch his cock for as long as possible, playing his own erotic game. “Think he needs some stretching now; why don’t you lie Bucky back and work your magic. Remember, don’t listen to his whining; just listen to me, Baby Girl”, Steve continued to instruct.

You pushed lightly against Bucky’s shoulders, and he lay back against the soft sheets; you took a moment to take in the beauty of his swollen lips, glazed-over bright eyes and his chest broad and decorated with red lines from where you’d been scratching him.

Trying to maintain confidence, you smiled seductively down at him before beginning a taunting crawl backwards down his body, not keeping your eyes off of his as you stroked the tip of your cock along his lean muscles as you moved.

Settling between his heavy thighs, you didn’t start immediately stretching him, instead continuing to arouse him further by starting with your tongue licking up the entire length of his cock, feeling the soft yet hard member as it throbbed. Bucky gasped, looking down his body to you on your knees, sucking him off, starting slow, tasting the salty clear juices bubbling at the tip before letting the tip rest heavily against your tongue. You sucked him gently at first, the mushroom head of his cock sensitive from the gasps and groans coming from the man beneath you. Further, you took him into your mouth until he tickled the back of your throat.

Only you didn’t stop there as you pulled off the tip with an audible pop before delving south, sucking his balls into your mouth, a move that you knew drove him insane, and you were greeted by his hips thrusting into the air, his cock throbbing, begging to be touched again.

“You’re doing so well teasing him, Sweetheart”, Steve suddenly mumbled from beside you, still on the chair but finally giving in to his internal game as he was stroking his own cock slowly, his hand squeezing and tugging on the end and then down the length.

Seeing the glorious sight beside you of Steve masturbating and Bucky led out in front of you, the ache between your legs was now becoming nearly painful. You were absent-mindedly rutting your hips onto the mattress, letting the strap of the black harness push against your cunt, trying to relieve some of the need.

Reaching over Bucky’s hairy thighs, you fumbled around on the bed from where you’d caught sight of the bottle of lube hidden within the sheets. Finally, you found it and quickly squirted some on your index finger.

Bucky heard the cap of the lube opening and immediately opened his legs to give you a little more room and better access to your finger's intended goal. Releasing your mouth’s grip on his balls, you licked his inner thighs, teasing him further before stroking the lube around his asshole, ensuring it was thoroughly covered before applying some pressure.

Quickly you could breach through the ringed muscle, and simultaneously, you sucked his length back into your mouth. You worked your digit in and out for a minute before adding another finger, angling and curling them until you massaged his prostate.

“Fuck, that feels so good, Doll, don’t fucking stop; you’re doing so well”, Bucky praised, which pulled a smile to your lips as you were still sucking him off. You moan to add more stimulation before adding a third finger. Bucky almost whimpered at the intrusion, more precum leaking onto your tongue as he begged, “More, I want more”.

Steve’s chair creaked as he leaned forward again, and his voice drew your attention to him as he demanded, “Remember, don’t listen to him. Just listen to me”. So this is what you did, as you didn’t rush to do anything further to Bucky, making sure his hole relaxed around your fingers. Bucky sometimes liked to rush moments like this to get to the main event, not caring about the burn from the stretch or any discomfort as he only needed and wanted to be fucked so Steve usually had to be firm with him to make sure he was thoroughly prepped before continuing any further.

You were thankful for Steve’s directions, even though you did all the movements. It was nice that Steve could still tell you when and how to touch Bucky, and now you had a slight inclining as to how Bucky felt all that time ago when he’d first touched you with Steve’s instructions.

“Add another finger”, Steve encouraged, his hand returning to his own cock, never taking his eyes off of every little gasp that Bucky whimpered. Your fourth finger inserted into Bucky as your mouth continued to tease and tempt Bucky closer to the orgasm that you knew he was dangerously close to. You were shocked to have so many fingers into his hole, having never usually been the one to stretch him out, but then you remembered just how big Steve’s fingers were, and he usually prepped Bucky with more force than your dainty fingers were doing.

The mafia leader finally stands up from his perched position, but only so that he can sit next to Bucky’s head, his hard soothing over the man's throat and forcing him to look up at him. “How does she feel?”

“So fucking good”, Bucky groaned as he began to rock his hips to push your fingers deeper. “But”, he continued, “if she keeps sucking me off like that, I’m going to cum before we even get started”.

You pull off with a sheepish smile, looking between your two boyfriends, but you keep your fingers inside. Steve smirked at you briefly before dipping his face to kiss Bucky, holding his hand around his throat and forcing his tongue into the other's mouth. You watched, all hot breaths and swapping saliva, battling for dominance that both wanted and neither would be willing to succumb to. Only as you removed your fingers from Bucky did the man force his head away from Steve to look down at you.

“Please, fuck me already, hot mama”.

You looked towards Steve, waiting for him to tell you to do as Bucky wished verbally but instead, he moved off the bed and came up behind you, kneeling on the bed. Without a word, he helped you to your knees, pushing back Bucky’s legs even further so that you had better access to move forward. With further lube coating the dildo between your legs, Steve pointed the toy towards Bucky’s prepped and begging hole.

Gently, Steve nudged you forward, slowly and watching Bucky’s expressions over your shoulders as inch after inch of your cock stretched the man’s asshole. You were in awe at seeing Bucky’s reaction, the way his fists gripped the sheets beside him, his cock dribbled with his juices and was red and aching against his abdomen. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his mouth gaped open so that all his gasps were unfiltered.

The man behind you moved his hands to your hips, where they rested warm and heavy against your skin, pushing you further and further until your hips were flush against Bucky and the length of the blue dildo was penetrated within him.

It took a couple of thrusts to know how you were supposed to move, finding the right rhyme that felt good for you and Bucky, who was an absolute mess beneath you. You started slow and shallow, knowing that the dildo was moving deep and stretching areas your fingers couldn’t reach.

You were also distracted by Steve, who had begun to kiss along your bare shoulder, up the length of your sensitive neck and to the shell of your ear, where he nibbled on the lobe. “Do you like seeing Bucky like this beneath you? Do you see why we both love being dominant? There’s nothing better than seeing your lover sprawled beneath you, responding so well to your touches, until they're sobbing with need, their thoughts only of you and nothing else. I love it so much, making you feel good and seeing you make Bucky feel good”.

You’d begun thrusting harder, driven by Steve’s words and moaning yourself at his explanation. But then you’re halting as Steve starts to move your thighs apart so that he can slip his fingers from your hips, over your mouth and between your legs, pressing on the harness directly over your clit.

“Let me just move these out of the way. I bet you’re dripping, aren’t you, baby?” Steve mumbled against your neck as he moved the straps to the side to caress his fingers through your drenched folds. He chuckled as he confirmed his suspicions, “Always so wet for us; you’re just such a good girl. I think it’s about time to treat our good girl; what do you think, Buck?”

“If you don’t fuck her, I will”, Bucky decided as his hands released their grip on the sheets to begin fondling your tits, twisting and flicking on your nipples and making your hips snap forward harshly.

Steve shifted once again behind you, and before you could even moan his name, his cock slid between your legs and pushed into your soaked, aching pussy. Your hands reached out to grab onto anything and ended up grasping Bucky’s wrists, your eyes shutting and hips pausing as you thrived at the stretching from the Blonde’s cock.

Bucky readjusted his hands so that both of your fingers were linked together, holding you up as you took a moment to get used to the size of Steve as he kissed along your neck to help soothe you. “Feeling good, Sweetheart?” Steve asked, smugness evident in his tone.

“So-... So good”, you stuttered over your words as you tried to accommodate his length, groaning as he finally bottomed out and his tip pushed into your cervix.

“Now the real fun begins”, Steve grunted as he pulled out and pushed back in, causing your hips to snap forward and fuck into Bucky. The two of you gasped at the movement, and then you truly realised Steve’s plan. In this position, as Steve fucked into you, it caused you to thrust into Bucky so effectively; Steve was fucking both of you at the same time, which was probably why he had found a dildo that was similar in size to his own cock.

“Holy shit!” Bucky groaned, his back arching as his hands gripped tightly around yours as Steve began to move faster, the wet sounds echoing around the bedroom as the morning sun began to seep through the gap in the curtains.

Steve rested one hand against your hip, and the other reached around your body to grab your hand, pulling it out of Bucky’s grasp but only so that he could move it down to the man’s cock, wrapping your fingers around his shaft and then covering your hand in his. Matching his thrust, Steve used your hand to jerk off Bucky, and this only made your walls tighten around Steve at seeing the man beneath you crying out.

You knew Bucky was trying not to cum, Steve knew Bucky was trying not to cum, and Bucky was desperately in his own world of attempting to prolong the pleasure. He never wanted it to end. Even as his shaft hardened and his moans became more urgent, he still tried to will his body to not orgasm.

However, this all went out of the window as you had the sudden confidence to say, “I want you to cum for us, Bucky; I know you want to”.

It was almost instantaneous. Bucky’s eyes shut as his back arched further, his hands falling back to his side as long streaks of hot cum lathered up his chest as he came hard, his hips thrusting around your dildo and his cock into your hand.

Steve grunted over your shoulder, his movements quickening as he reached his peak, but he, like Bucky, tried to hold it back. Releasing the grip on Bucky’s spent cock, he reached between your thighs and stroked against your clit, pressing harshly and snapping his hips into yours.

It was like a burst of warmth and tingles spread from your abdomen, over your pussy and down your thighs as you came, slumping forward against Bucky’s chest as you lost any energy you had. Your pussy spasmed around Steve and he heaved a finally harsh thrust into you before he was pouring his seed into your hole, seeping out of the edges and pooling onto the sheets below.

The three of you tried to catch your breaths, not rushing to move as you each kissed random body parts lovingly, not quite having the energy to express how much you loved each other, but the touches conveyed the message thoroughly enough.

Steve was the first to move, kissing between your shoulder blades once before pulling out and then carefully beginning to help you ease out of Bucky, who gasped at the loss of the dildo. Next, Steve helped you stand on wobbly knees, only briefly so that he could clean between your legs with a warm washcloth and remove the harness from your body.

You then turned to Bucky and helped to clean all the cum and lube off of his body and then collapsed onto his chest, cuddling close as his arms wrapped around your shoulders as he kissed the top of your head. Steve did the same on Bucky’s other side, kissing your head and then Bucky wrapping his big arms around the man's abdomen and laying his hand over yours. No further words needed to be said; Steve finally found the calm that came from being with you and Bucky, the ideas and thoughts quietening in his mind as he found the peace he’d been craving all night.

#mafia!stucky #mafia au #steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers one shot #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel smut #mine*#kinktober #stucky x reader #stucky

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nightowlwriting · 1 year

Text

summary: you never learn to tell the difference between

the probable projections and the best parts of the dream

it's time to fight. it's time to prove that you're useful. the team finds out what you think of your cell and your situation. wanda's brother comes home and you visit.

word count: 8.1k

reader specifics: no race/gender/sexuality/body type mentioned, no pronouns for reader used, enhanced!reader, traumatized!reader

warnings: typical violence for cannon, ptsd symptoms, panic attacks, lapse of reality, descriptions of war/death/blood/violent acts, self-loathing

note: this is the part four of an ongoing series, find the series masterlist here. i think i got all of the tw/cw, but if i missed something please send an ask!

title & summary credit: the mountain goats

mobile masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

You dodge Steve for the better part of two minutes, keeping an eye on his updated fighting style. You’d studied him furiously under your time with the Handlers but he’s had years of experience since that. You haven’t. His endurance is almost as good as yours so by the time you’re starting to feel the burn in your legs from the rapid-fire movement you know he’s feeling it, too. There’s still one thing left to decide before you take the offense.

Just which incorporeal thread are you going to tug on to fight him? Instinct says fire because Steve doesn’t have a long-range attack, not really. The fire will keep him at bay and do damage, which will win you the fight. But fire is angry and hard to control, which doesn’t match Steve’s new fighting style at all. Every movement he makes, every point-turn to try and get you on the ground or off balance, is a brilliant strategy that you know he’s coming up with on the fly. The serum did a lot for Steve physically, but you heard the rumors from the Handlers. He’s always been whip-smart, a little irrational and irresponsible, and a hell of a good strategist. Those things knockout using air and water, too. Air is too unpredictable, even when you’re the one in charge. Water is too much give and take for the way that he’s moving.

Steve fights like he’s a brick wall with legs. He uses his shield to try and batter you to the side and uses his legs and feet like they’re steel rods connected to his torso to anchor him low to the ground to keep him agile. It makes you grit your teeth because earth is stubborn. It’s hard to move unless you’re grounded and with Steve’s speed, it’s hard to keep more than one foot on the ground at a time. He knows he’s pushing your buttons, too, because the whole time he’s on the offense and you’re dodging backward and sideways out of his way he’s fucking grinning.

Typically that would set you off, but it’s easy to remember what this is for, especially now that you’re in the swing of things. They want to see what you can do so they can see how useful you are to them. They want to measure your power, yes, but also your control. Earth is all about control, and so is Captain Steve Rogers. (At least, what you know of him from the Before and what little you’ve gleaned of him in the After.)

When you take a turn for the offense it takes Steve by surprise. Instead of dodging away from his fist you take it on the chin and let it knock you back. He pauses just for a moment but that’s all you need - letting the momentum spin you and working with the topsy-turvy way that the hit makes your head spin, you come from back with a heel to his chin. Behind you, where the others are observing, you hear someone groan. Steve’s eyes go foggy just for a second because you’d put your back into the kick and it gives you just enough time to take measured steps backward out of his melee range.

A deep breath while he recovers, grounding your bare feet into the bare dirt you’re standing on. You extend yourself into the earth and tug the strings up through the soles of your feet like a ball-jointed doll. You are thrumming with the heartbeat of the world underneath you by the time Steve finally raises his head less than half a second later. His eyes widen as he watches your eyes flicker, a deep forest green taking over the entirety of your sclera for a fraction of a second before your eyes are back to normal. “Yeah, good job,” He praises.

Because you’re jacked into the ground beneath you and everything on or in it, you know what Steve’s going to do just after he does. He rears back and slings the shield at you like a frisbee but you’re ready. Sure, it’s an adamantium shield but adamantium is still metal. It’s still mined from the earth and perfected from its raw form. It’s still a string you can tug on, a limb you have that nobody else does.

He gapes when you catch the shield in your hand and bend it like a paper plate, tossing it to the side. You’re tired of playing games, tired of being a prisoner, just plain tired. It had been a realization when you’d let yourself go completely into the earth: the others were watching you fight Steve which means each fight after this one is going to get harder and harder. Not just because you’ll be tired, but because they’ll have seen your fighting style. There’s no doubt that Bucky, Natasha, and Tony are impeccable fighters. Steve, as a Captain, wouldn’t let them fight you if they weren’t skilled. So, logically, the faster you get each fight over with the less they know and the more stamina you save for the next fight.

The shield clangs against a rock and your crack your neck, still standing vaguely relaxed except for your grounded stance. Steve’s muscles coiling echoes through your mind through the soles of your feet but you’re done fighting him. It was fun dodging and ducking around Captain America, but now you just want to get this over with and get back to your cell so that you can continue to pay the penance of your failure. Before Steve can take a step you’re sliding your dominant foot forward, feeling the heartbeat and flow beneath it, and pulling your hands up like you’re a puppeteer.

The ground in front of him rumbles for a split second, not long enough for him to do anything, and then Steve is encased in a cave of rock four feet thick. There are shouts behind you but then everyone hears his fists strike his cage one, two, three times and they calm down. You’re not a monster, not in the way that they think you are. You’d left him room enough to crouch and, apparently, throw a few punches. Your blood is still thrumming five minutes later when Tony finally calls the match, Steve unable to figure out how to get out of the rock cage.

He’s flushed, chest heaving when he’s revealed with just the wave of one of your hands, the earth shifting back to where it rests naturally. “My shield!”

“Oh,” You start, already forgotten that you’d bent it out of place. Bucky’s holding it, mouth slightly agape as he turns it over in his hands, “I can fix it.”

“How can you fix that?” Sam has joined Bucky in gaping at the ruined shield. “It’s a piece of history, y’know.” You know he’s trying to joke with you and break the tension, but you won’t be relaxed until you figure out who you’re fighting next and how.

“I’m a piece of history,” You mumble, taking the shield from Bucky as Steve joins the three of you. Maybe it was a little mean to bend it in half like that, but he threw it at your face. You frown as you work the shield open, ratcheting your arms and focusing on the bonds of the metal. Everything has a natural state and you’re just able to bend those states to your will - basic physics says that everything wants to go back to that natural state though, so once you’re done the shield is as good as new.

“Oh, geez,” Steve breathes as you hand it back to him, “It doesn’t even look like you bent it.”

“See?” You glance at Sam and shrug, “Everything’s jake. Wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think that I couldn’t fix it.”

“You could have killed him,” Natasha finally parts from where she, Wanda, Bruce, and Tony had been discussing something in a tight group, “But you didn’t.”

“Why would I kill him?” You frown, crossing your arms over your chest, “You’ve brought me out here to run tests. I’m goin’ to do the tests the same way that I would if I was with the Handlers.” An eerie silence falls around your group, Steve and Bucky sharing an unreadable look with Natasha and Sam. “You’ve already given me a much better chance of winnin’, too, because you’re letting me outside.”

“Letting you?” Bucky repeats, eyebrows pulled tight over his eyes. He looks confused, which is confusing to you. “What d’you mean?” You frown and look away from the heavy glances they’re sending your way.

“Well, I can’t exactly walk out here by myself.”

“You can,” Sam is the first to speak, “You literally can.”

“Wait,” Steve shifts his weight and puts a hand up, his voice drawing your attention up, “Do you think you can’t go anywhere without one of us?” Over his shoulder, the slow-dawning horror begins creeping up Bucky’s face.

“That’s exactly what you think. Y-You’re allowed to leave your room without one’a us. You’re not trapped here.” He wraps his right hand around Steve’s wrist, drawing the blond’s attention, “Did we not make that clear? This whole time-” He chokes on his words and you look to Sam and Natasha for some sort of explanation. Natasha’s face is soft with compassion - or pity, maybe. They look about the same to you.

“You have pretty much free reign of the compound,” She shakes her head and then pushes some of her fiery hair out of her face, “Your room isn’t a cell.” A visceral uncomfortable feeling rises in your stomach and chest. They’re catching you off guard and it’s… It’s awful. This was easy when Bucky brought you out here - it was familiar. But now they’re trying to tell you that you’re not in a cell? That you’re not just another lab rat? You take a deep breath and swallow hard.

“It is,” You shake your head, frowning, “It’s a very nice cell, though. I - you don’t - there’s no need to pretend here,” You take your time to look at the people around you. They all look horrified, but in different ways. “I know what I am and I know what you guys are. I’m in your custody and you’re my Handlers. I give you information and you give me good food and good exercise, and Bruce gets to study me. I get it, you don’t have to pretend this is anything but that.” You shrug. “It’s better here than it was Underground.” The silence is unsettling. You can hear the soft conversation from the other group of people outside and then the thrumming life of birds and insects in the grass and trees. You’re uncomfortable under their gazes, especially the look Bucky and Steve give you. They’re like mirrors of each other: clenched jaws, low eyebrows, bobbing throats. They’re upset about something - maybe it’s because you’d finally said it out loud. Everybody knows that you’re technically their prisoner, but maybe it’s saying it out loud that has upset them. Your hands begin to shake when you think about the fact that you might’ve upset them, especially with how brightly they’d been looking at you while you fixed Steve’s shield.

Like a Godsend, Bruce calls your name and gives you an excuse to push past the super-soldiers to join his group instead. He looks up brightly from the rectangle in his hand that’s called a tablet and is just like a laptop except small with no keys to type with. He’s using a pen on the screen but you don’t see an inkwell. “What a brilliant fight,” He gushes, looking up at you for just a fraction of a second over his glasses. Bruce is almost always frazzled like this when you’ve done something that he thinks is particularly spectacular. “I want you to spar with Natasha next. Does that sound good?”

“Of course,” You nod, crossing your arms over your chest. How could you say no?

“I hope Bucky explained this to you, but we prefer it if you try to limit your abilities to one element per combatant.” He mumbles something under his breath that you don’t understand, but that’s pretty common, and then snaps the case on his tablet closed. Bruce gives you a bright grin and you smile weakly back. “And you can tap out at any time if you want. I know you have a high endurance but I imagine this is taxing, regardless.”

“Being outside helps,” You shift, “It makes me stronger to have… Connections. To everything.” It’s hard to tell Bruce that because it’s also telling him that if you lose control or they want to hurt you that they can just cut off access to one of the elements. But it’s also easy because Bruce is incredibly fascinated with everything about you. He’s nice, and it’s nice to have a scientist that doesn’t poke you with a cattle prod if you have an attitude or collapse exhausted. (He also doesn’t work you to exhaustion and gives you breaks. It’s nice.)

“Of course,” Bruce nods like he’s known that, and maybe he has. His mind works incredibly fast for someone who’s not enhanced. In fact, Bruce might be the smartest person that you know.

Tony is also very smart from what you’ve seen. Everyone on the team is wildly intelligent but all in different ways. There’s no doubt that they’re going to adapt after every match and make it harder for you to win. Still, you’re confident in your ability to come out of this set of tests not only impressing the Avengers, but winning each match. Bruce observes you for a second, muttering under his breath, and then takes a step around you. “Nat! We’ll have you go next, okay?” She looks unimpressed from her spot in the huddle but nods in affirmation.

“We’ll see how you fare against me,” She moves toward you as Bruce moves away. You take measured steps backward to put more space between Natasha and the others so that you don’t hurt them once you gauge what to use against her. She matches your steps forward in a casual gait, mimicking how you’d stayed light on your feet against Steve. You don’t have the upper hand in this fight, though, because you have no idea how Natasha fights. She’s not wearing any visible weaponry but you can sense the knives she has hidden on her person. Will she throw them? Will she try to get into melee with you?

You switch gears when Natasha lunges at you, unsheathing a knife from a holster under her arm. Instead of falling back or dodging to the sides, you meet her halfway and follow the arc of her slash just a few seconds faster than she moves. While she stumbles forward, taken off guard by your bold move you fall forward into a roll behind her and pop to your feet in a defensive position. You both fight like that for a few minutes and finally, it clicks in your head: she’s a dancer. Steve is a brick wall of force and Natasha is a dancer. The wind shifts cold and then warm around you as you pull on the air, rebuffing her next attack with a gust that knocks her off balance and her feet until she’s skidding in the dirt.

“Dirty, dirty tricks, darling,” She says from a crouch but she’s grinning. It’s all teeth, feral and hungry for more combat. You bare your teeth at her in the same way, snarling low in your throat. “You’re fun when you give up the ghost and play.” She leaps, then, and you rock up onto your toes. It’s easier to get the air around you to behave when you’re mobile, stepping lightly, dancing around Natasha as she tries to swipe at you. Natasha is a bullet, all red hair and teeth, but she’s still graceful. She barely touches the ground as you two spin around each other. It just takes one moment of lost focus for her to land a strike on you.

The pain is hot against your side as she slashes upward in an arc over your ribs. It bursts behind your eyes in a flash of scorching blood and torn fabric. Natasha hesitates, clearly not expecting to land such a devastating hit and you use that to your advantage. The pain is a lot, yes, but you barely flinch. Compared to the others that the Handlers would make you fight, this is nothing.

The pain is nothing.

Natasha grunts when you spin again, bringing the current of the air with your open palms. It slams against her with gale force that’s strong enough to lift her off of her feet and slam her back-first into the ground, the knife falling from her limp grasp. You back off, listening to her gasp for breath and make sure you hadn’t accidentally broken a rib into her lungs. Also, you wait for the cattle prod, the cuffs, the pain to come because you messed up. It wasn’t supposed to be that strong, wasn’t supposed to do that damage, wasn’t supposed to fling her ten feet into the air and then flatten her on the ground.

You tense your body, close your eyes, and you wait. It seems to take years for the footsteps to cross over to you, but you wait. You can pick out who’s walking by the sound, now, after so much time listening at your door for who’s coming to pick you up. Sam, Tony, and Bruce pass you in favor of helping Natasha up - or asking her questions, in Bruce’s case. Steve and Bucky stop behind you, perhaps watching the way your elbows press into your sides as you make shaking fists or the way that your shoulders slowly rise to meet your earlobes. Maybe they’re not looking at any of that, maybe they’re looking at the fractalling burn patterns on the ground beneath you as you fight for control over your fear, or the ice that’s starting to curl up over your biceps and encase your skin in swirling, intricate patterns. When one of them finally lays his hand on your shoulder you flinch so sharply that the ice breaks and falls to the ground, fire burning out as you retreat back into your head.

“I’m sorry,” You hear yourself saying, “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“You didn’t hurt her,” Steve’s hand stays on your shoulder as he walks around to be in your line of sight, “See? Nat’s fine.” She is, getting up and grinning and everything, but it’s so hard to process that. Even the sunlight of the day outside is starting to look like an industrial ceiling with dank, broken pipes that leak when the snow melts too much or when the Handlers on the surface use too much water too quickly. Even Steve’s voice, sturdy and calm with an unshaken power, doesn’t sound much like him. You can hear a Handler, feel their warm breath over your face as they leer closer and closer with their teeth bared and a sick smile and heavy hands that touch much too much and -

“Hey!” Bucky knocks Steve’s hand off of your shoulder and drops his vibranium hand on the opposite shoulder. It rattles you physically and mentally, drawing your wandering and slow-moving eyes to his. “Listen to me,” Steve is there, over Bucky’s shoulder, “You are outside with us. Nobody here is mad at you, nobody here is going to punish you. This is what we wanted you to do. Do you understand?” His voice is strong, cutting through the mildew smell that had begun to choke you, pulling the threads of your mind back to the protective shell of you versus You. But Bucky doesn’t seem to want to let that happen.

“I… I understand.” You finally reply, trying a small smile as you look between Steve and Bucky. “I think I understand.”

The news jumps on the mysterious painting almost as soon as it’s noticed. It’s off in an alleyway not frequented often, but frequented enough. First, it starts as a picture on Instagram. Found some rad graffiti. Wonder what it means. Then it’s a local picture spot for a week or two.

Finally, the owner of the bistro notices and calls his boss. He’s not stupid, not by a long shot, and he knows what Serdste means. He’s heard the stories passed down from his family members - men who’ve been in the business of blood money for far longer than he has. He’s a generation or two removed from Russian as his first language, but he still speaks it enough at the old folk's home to know what’s coming next.

His boss must call their contact in the NYPD because the next day he’s sitting on his couch listening to his old lady chatter on the phone and watching the footage from the helicopter he heard earlier that day.

The footage is hard to make out unless you know what you’re looking for. It appears to be innocuous graffiti - a bit large and sort of an eyesore - and it’s just a heart on fire. Anatomically correct, a little off-putting to think about, but a concept that he knows the local youths will, and have been, going crazy for. It was the writing that had made him pick up the phone the first time he'd seen it. In haphazard scrawl across the main expanse of the heart is angry, dripping, black ink.

Сердце

Живет на

И снова поднимется.

Or:

Serdtse

Zhivet na

I snova podnimetsya.

Or:

The Heart

Lives on

And will rise again.

You take a break after your fight with Natasha. She comes over after Bucky has you do some breathing exercises with Steve at your side and claps you on the back. “That was a good hit. Very strong. I haven’t had someone down me that quickly since I was a teenager.” Her words hold some weight that you’re not sure you understand in the way that others understand but still, you know. She had asked you about the Red Room - it must be something like the Underground. You wonder how many people she’s had to kill and how many of their names she remembers.

You remember them all.

You’re getting worked up about everything again when Bruce comes over to lay his hand gently on your bicep. “Maybe we should continue another day. I shouldn’t have suggested so many tests in one day like this.”

“I’m sorry,” You reflexively reply, “I know I can do more tests. We don’t have to wait.”

“We’re not mad at you,” Natasha points out, “We’re worried about you.”

You blink and then look back at Steve and Bucky - the people that, despite how they treated you when they first found out who you are, you trust the most. Bucky smiles weakly at you - which he’s been doing since you calmed down during the breathing exercises - but Steve nods. “It’s true. None of us knew how you felt about your room.”

Cell, you want to say. It’s fine, you want to say.

But you don’t.

He reaches out for your elbow and you try to swallow down your gasp, but he and Bucky at the very minimum hear you. "Why don't we have a movie night tonight?"

"A movie night?"

"We'll pick out a movie and make snacks. You can wear comfy clothes and we'll show you a movie that you've never seen before." Steve shrugs, "Buck and I spent a long time catching up and we're still not there. We've all missed a lot of media."

"I think we should start with the Wizard Of Oz," Bucky cuts in before you can respond, "And then Star Wars." He grins and then knocks his knuckles gently against Steve's elbow, "Those blew my mind.”

"That's surprising," Steve says, “Because you and I have been livin’ sci-fi for the past seventy years.”

“I wouldn’t say living it,” Tony drawls before you can ask what sci-fi is, “Considering how much you spent on ice and how much he spent as the Fist.” The casual, blase way that Tony mentions The Fist of Hydra raises your hackles. Your jaw clicks shut audibly and a sour feeling rises in your stomach. It’s nothing but a sickly sweet reminder of what you’d done - rather, what you’d failed to do. The one good thing you’d tried to do and you couldn’t even do that right.

It’s why you’re not mad about the cell, or the training, or the tests. If that’s what you have to do to be useful, to be helpful, to be good… Then you’ll do it. You’ll take your punishment with a neutral face because, fuck, if you’d just made it out of that ice field with the files then maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe you would have died and not come back to live a bastardized, second life among the ones you’ve failed the most.

By the time the blood is done rushing through your ears and you’ve calmed down a little, you realize that Wanda is watching you closely. Everyone else is heading back toward the doors but she’s there, standing next to Steve, and watching you. She hadn’t approached you or talked to you much since you had your… Lapse of judgment about Helen Cho. It didn’t make you mad - sadder than anything else - and you understood how hesitant she might be. It’s hard to have your thoughts and memories; you can’t begin to imagine what it would be like to be assaulted with them with little to no warning. There’s no malice in her eyes now, though, and not even a little bit of pity.

“My brother is coming back tonight,” She says abruptly, cutting Steve off. The three of you are the only ones left outside, and Steve had been explaining something that was going in one ear and out the other. “I think you two would get along.” Steve glances between the two of you like he’d just realized that Wanda hasn’t left yet, like she was invisible. Maybe she’d been wanting to fly under his radar, just able to watch you. “Would you like to meet him?”

You blink slowly and glance at Steve as if you’re asking permission. He holds up his hands and smiles a little bit, “I’m not your keeper, you can make your own decisions.”

“Pietro is nice,” Wanda nods, fidgeting with her fingers, “And you remind me of him sometimes. I think it would be a good friendship to have, especially after finding out what exactly you think of your situation.”

“I, personally, think Pietro would be the best kind of bad influence,” Steve’s smile is blinding as he nudges Wanda with his elbow, but there’s also something hiding behind it that you don’t understand. “Maybe he’ll get you out of your room more often.”

“Does Bucky like him?” You ask before you can stop yourself, “I don’t want to make… Anyone mad.” Wanda cocks her head, dark hair falling over her shoulders. She tsks once and then, when she speaks, her accent is thicker than it was before.

“Lyuba mayn, Bucky is going to be grumpy no matter who you’re spending time with. If he had his way he would keep you to himself - and Steve.” She giggles and cuts a sideways glance at Steve’s quickly reddening face. “Still, he will be tired after his mission, but he eats dinner with me in our room after. It’s easier to keep our kitchen kosher instead of trying to have our own utensils in the team’s kitchen. Would you like to join us for dinner?" She reaches for your hand but hesitates - you can practically see your memories flashing in her eyes. "Pietro and I will join the others for the movie, of course."

"I don't know Wan… I think we could all use some rest after that." Steve worries his lip between his teeth, glancing between you and the brunette still reaching out for you.

"What's more restful than breaking bread with friends?" She slaps her hand on her thigh and turns to Steve with fiery eyes. "Besides, the two of you aren't the only ones who can understand the trauma there." They hold eye contact in a way that makes your hackles rise because they're clearly communicating in a way that teammates do and it's obviously about you. You grind your teeth, fists flexing at your sides. Wanda smirks and breaks eye contact with Steve in favor of taking a step toward you. "What do you say?"

"Does he know what I've done?"

Finally, the pity rolls over Wanda's expression and you can see Steve tense up, jaw hard as he glances away. "Of course he does, lyuba mayn. He's the one that told me to invite you to dinner so that he could meet you. We are not so innocent either." You let her take your hand, focusing your eyes on the glint of silver resting against her sternum to ground yourself.

"I… Will go, if it's allowed." Your skin burns where Wanda is touching you, but the fire travels down your spine under Steve's gaze. He's inspecting you - that's the only word for the way he's looking at you. Does he not trust you? Should you decline, eat dinner with the team so you can scurry back to your cell after? You look back towards Wanda, "Or, maybe, I could just…"

"Ignore Steve," She throws a smug look over her shoulder at him and you watch a blush rise over his skin from underneath his suit. "He and Bucky just want to be your friend so badly because they feel like they will be the best at it."

You blink dumbly at her for only a second. Your friend? That hadn't even crossed your mind. Steve huffs out a sign, hands low on his hips as he cranes his neck away from the two of you. "Wanda…"

"We do have the most in common," You frown, "The three of us are all enhanced, we've all had scuffs with Hydra, and we've all fought in a war nobody else fought in." Wanda grins slyly when you shrug.

"All of the more reason for us to steal you away and become your friends as well."

You shower before heading to Wanda and Pietro's apartment and choose the biggest sweater you currently own. It doubles as something to keep you warm as your body tries to recoup from the afternoon and also as a form of protection. The fabric draping over your shoulders and torso hides the bulk of your body and the sleeves are so large you can hold a ball of fabric in your fists with some still left over. It's nice to dig your fingernails into when you get overwhelmed or nervous - plus its fire-resistant and water-wicking. Natasha had explained both of them to you and you'd asked for most of your wardrobe to be made in those fabrics.

You're chewing gently on the cuff when Wanda comes to your room to get you, still smiling and bouncing slightly on her feet. "He's home!" She reaches out and tugs on one of your sleeves, "Pietro is very excited to meet you."

"I'm excited to meet him," You say because that's what people say, "Where has he been?"

"Undercover," She tugs on your sleeve once but then leaves you to walk next to her, "He prefers to stay out of the media, despite how he acts around here. People know my face and most of the other’s faces… But Piet has done very well in keeping a low profile, as they say." There’s more of a bounce in her step as she takes you to where she lives with her twin brother. After you parted ways before your shower, Steve mentioned that Pietro is a ‘good kid’ but also that he’s quick to act and a little short of thought. It makes you nervous, but weirdly enough the good kind of nervous. Everyone else is so… Soft around you and, for someone who spent a lot of time in militant training or around military folk… Soft feels an awful lot like you’re not only delicate, but pathetic too. You don’t blame them because in some regards you are delicate, fragile, and other synonyms for broken. But in some regards, you’ll never be able to put yourself back together stronger if you’re never allowed to break.

Wanda turns to smile at you just before she lets you into her apartment. “Don’t be nervous, really, he’ll love you.”

“If you say so, Wanda.” You shrug, crossing your arms over your chest. Squeezing the cuffs of your sweater helps ground you and prevents your nails from biting deep into the meat of your palms. Just before she fully pushes the door open, Wanda tracks something just above your head.

“You don’t have to meet him, y’know. We’ll be just fine doing introductions at the next dinner.” When you shake your head she telegraphs her movements until she’s flapping her hands around your shoulders. “Could have fooled me that you’re ready to meet him. There’s smoke coming from your collar.” The heat had been building around your ribs and stomach, but you’d brushed it off as hesitancy or maybe even fear. When she points out the smoke you realize that you’re actually feeling a fire fueled by that fear curling around your midsection protectively. In a blink you extinguish it, thankful that Natasha had sprung for the fire-resistant clothing. Wanda turns away from you and flounces into the apartment as you pinch the fabric of your sweater between your fingers and fan it out, hoping to get rid of the smoke altogether. It clings to you like the campfires you used to make when you were sent out of the Underground. By the time you follow Wanda in and close the door behind you, she’s already in the kitchen chattering with someone in another language.

It’s something with Slavic roots but it sounds like plenty of Germanic borrowed words. You can’t even begin to grasp what country it’s from, let alone decipher what they’re saying. Wanda gestures to you just as you come around the corner, saying something with your name mixed in the middle of it. For being twins, Pietro and Wanda only look vaguely related. They both have high cheekbones set on their round faces, both have sharp brown eyes. Pietro’s dyed his hair blond instead of Wanda’s dark brown hair, but it’s clearly grown out an inch or two to be shaggy around his ears. He looks relaxed, but you can see that underneath that facade he’s tense in his casual, lounging clothes. Pietro steps forward and extends a hand to you, speaking in a thick accent. “It is nice to meet you finally. I can finally put a face to the lyuba mayn my sister tells me about.” His hand is strong, agitated or maybe threatened by your presence in his sister’s life. If you were him, though, you’d be agitated by your presence too.

“I can’t say I’ve heard a lot about you,” He drops your hand and steps back to the counter, resting his hips against it and crossing his arms. Wanda sits on the counter grinning happily and swinging her feet. “But that’s understandable when you’ve been on a mission.”

“Ah,” Pietro nods and relaxes a fraction, “Yes. After my sister and I were… Acquired by and invited to join the Avengers, I’ve been doing work in Sokovia to quell the unrest there.” He sighs before gesturing to the stove to his right. “I’ve made kreplach for dinner if you’re joining us. They’re almost done cooking, I just have to make sure that they don’t stick.”

You blink, following his hand to the stove where there’s a pot of water boiling softly. “You’ve been doing work in… Sokovia?”

Wanda’s eyes widen and she laughs, light and carefree. “Oh, yes. Sokovia is a relatively small and new country. Perhaps past your time above ground.”

“You’ve never heard of Sokovia?” Pietro seems overly confused as he turns to prod at the food in the water with a wooden spoon, “Strange. We have been in the news a lot for the past ten to fifteen years. The team heads there a lot now because there is a lot of Burning Staff activity. I’m sure you’ll see it soon.”

“But not any of the good parts,” Wanda complains, seemingly falling into the role of sister faster than you thought, “Only the shitty parts with shitty people.” You can sense Pietro rolling his eyes. “Did you not read the file I sent you?” Your hackles raise at the thought that your file is being sent around, but you understand why it is. You wonder how much information is inside of it and how much they left out.

Pietro scoffs and turns off the stove. “No, I did not read the file. If malen’kaya lapa wants me to know, I will be told.” You know those words and shuffle. The Maximoff twins are very liberal with their nicknames - first Wanda labels you my love before she uses your name and now her brother is calling you little paw. “It’s basic respect, Walentya.”

Before you can stop yourself, you take a step forward to watch Pietro scoop the kreplach equally into three bowls. “Walentya?” You ask, finally smelling the broth as he pours it over the pasta, “What does that mean?”

Pietro only glances at Wanda over his shoulder and she sighs. “Walentya is my name. I chose Wanda when I came to America.” You’d heard of people doing that - mostly the refugees during the war so that they would be safe in America more than if they kept their birth names. Wanda doing that is a little confusing because you assumed that she’s safe here, with her friends, more than anywhere else.

“Oh. So you chose Pietro when she chose Wanda?”

He laughs, bright and happy, the final dregs of tension wisping away from his shoulders. Pietro digs around in a cutlery drawer at the same time he pulls three glasses down from a cupboard. “No, no. I would rather sit on a tack than call myself something like Peter.” He turns back around to hand you an empty glass, his nose wrinkled. “I tried to convince Walentya not to change her name, but she's not one to… How is it said?" He looks to his sister, rubbing his chin with squinting eyes as he searches for the translation. "Ah, she is not one to be led by the nose."

“I feel… More comfortable with an Americanized name. Pietro has always been better at fitting in,” Wanda cuts in to explain, “He is louder and more boisterous.”

“You seem to fit in just fine,” You frown as you accept the large bowl of kreplach, the serving bowl warm against your frigid palms. It’s just enough to remind you that you can’t lose control, not here, even though you’re so nervous. “The team likes you.”

“The team likes you too,” She volleys back, swinging her dark hair over her shoulder to move from the kitchen and into the dining room, “But you’re unfortunately convinced that your room is a cell and that we’re your Handlers.” Pietro’s steps, to his credit, only stutter a little bit. He sits across from you while Wanda takes the head of the table and doesn’t do a very good job of keeping his surprise off of his face. His eyebrows have crept up to hide underneath the shaggy bangs that hover just above his eyes. You pointedly ignore the way that the Maximoff twins are looking at you in favor of eating your kreplach. “See, Pietro, you two are alike!”

“You think that anyone who comes to this place the way that we did is like me,” He grumbles around a mouthful of food, “Besides, malen’kaya lapa is a tad too shy to be anything like me.” You chew slowly as Pietro’s eyes darken, twitching between your slouched form and Wanda’s blase, casual eating. His face darkens to what seems like an unnatural degree for a man you’ve only just met. “How did you come here, malen’kiy dukh? I would like to know.”

Little Ghost. That’s more fitting for you than Little Paw. He watches you as he eats - he must be enhanced like Wanda because he’s eating the same amount of kreplach that you and his sister are without blinking. You take a long sip of water to put off answering but there’s only so much that you can do to procrastinate. “I… Was found.” You finally decide to start at the beginning of your new life, not your old one. “I was found in the ice where Captain Rogers was found because I froze myself there, trying to escape from the Underground and my Handlers with the Program that they executed on me. I was trying to save Sergeant Barnes from going through the same thing.”

“I am sorry,” Pietro says quietly, “You did not make it?”

Setting your fork down you shake your head. Your stomach is rolling now, lights flashing at the corners of your eyes in warning because your heart is racing too. It feels like the room is spinning around you. “I am here now because I am very powerful,” It feels like a sin to admit it, “And I know a lot about the Underground - things the Avengers need to know.” You swallow thickly and try to smile, but it’s weak at best. “Now I’m stuck here in this time that is very confusing with the weight of everything I’ve done on my back.” Wanda, surprising you, reaches out and touches your forearm with lithe fingers to comfort you without overwhelming you. Pietro sighs and nods but then he sets his fork down and leans back, seeming to chew on his words before he speaks.

“I understand,” His voice is lower and accent thicker than before, “More than you know. Steve and Bucky maybe more than I,” He gestures lackadaisical;y with his hands and then shrugs, “But it is not a race, yes? Before we were here and the people you see sitting in front of you, Walentya and I were in Sokovia and desperate. Our parents were killed in a bombing.”

You frown, crossing your arms and digging your thumbs into the seams of your cuffs to ground yourself. It takes everything in you not to lose control but it’s becoming harder and harder not to burst into flames or start a cyclone like the one in the interrogation room. “I’m sorry.” Wanda smiles but doesn’t say anything more.

“We have done our healing,” He nods, “It still hurts, but it will always hurt. The bombing was carried out by the United States. For three days we looked at a dud shell in our apartment with Tony Stark’s name on it.” Your breath catches in your throat. You’d known, of course, of the things that Tony’s father had been involved in. For Christ’s sake - Howard had bought you from the Handlers just to shove you face-first into a war that you hadn’t even known about. Then, when your usefulness was up, he gave you back. But Tony? The worst you’d seen from him is the vitriolic hate that he has for you.

The hate you see every single time that you catch your reflection in the mirror. “Why are you here?” You finally ask, throat raw and quiet, “If Tony Stark killed your parents?”

“Tony did not do it,” Wanda finally cuts in, shaking her head, “Not in the way that you are thinking. Tony used to make weapons and sell them to the military. They were used in the bombing of Sokovia meant to destabilize our government in order for the CIA to input a newer, more American-friendly leader.”

“We took that,” Pietro picks the story up and carries it like he’s reading Wanda’s mind, “And we internalized it.” He touches his fingertips to his sternum, finally looking away from you. “We were some of the faces of the biggest riots in the country. It was not until later that we learned they were Hydra driven. Speak about being lead by the nose, huh?” He chuckles wryly. You haven’t been told a lot about Hydra, but they sound just like the Handlers. Bucky mostly shies away from conversations about Hydra, either changing the subject or leaving the room altogether. “We did a lot of things for our country. Things I do not regret.”

“And neither do I.”

Pietro continues after a deep sigh. “We were used as tools for years. A man approached us, wanted us to help usurp the soldiers in our country from the US. It was an occupation - my feelings on that have not changed. We went with them; I was ready to die for Sokovia and I convinced Walentya to come with me, to lay down her life.” His voice gets tight, but Pietro pushes on. It’s like he’s confessing his sins more than telling a story. You feel like you’re looking in a mirror, at a person broken down to their raw components of every single thing that they regret doing and every single thing they’d do all over again, consequences be damned. “We were taken and changed. The Avengers call it enhanced, but I have only changed for good a little bit. Now I am fighting on a side I know is at least genuine. Being in America is… Hard. The US does a lot of things I do not agree with. But I do more good here than in my home country, which is still rife with crumbling infrastructure and corrupt politics.”

The silence hangs heavy over the three of you. “Have you… Ever killed someone?” The twins laugh, looking at each other like neither of them expected you to actually ask. But you need to know. There are a lot of similarities between Pietro, Wanda, and you. You need to know that, maybe, when they wash their hands or take a shower sometimes they see the slick blood on their palms and finger pads. Sometimes they can’t wash it off because it’s not really there, but it is - just soaked into the skin so deep it won’t come out.

“Of course, we have,” Wanda says softly, “For Sokovia, for Hydra, and now for the Avengers.”

“It is never easy,” Pietro says, eyes softening. He goes from looking troubled to looking at you exactly like Wanda looks at you. “Taking a life. I regret every single one. But sometimes there are not choices. Between my sister’s life and the life of a stranger… Well, there’s no competition.”

“And I will always choose Pietro. Over everyone, even my friends here.” Wanda pats your arm, “We try to lower the casualties of missions as much as possible, with tranquilizer bullets instead of lethal rounds, but you must know that in war death is inevitable, no?”

“Of course I know,” You reply without thinking, “Fighting in wars is what I was made for - living like this is still foreign to me.” The twins sigh at the same time, Pietro picking up his fork again.

“Eat your kreplach, malen’kiy dukh. We will become friends before we share any more secrets, yes?”

You’re washing your hands just before bed when it happens again. You stifle your scream and stumble backward into the wall, clutching your hands at your sides as you watch the spout drip thick, viscous blood. It’s not real. It’s not real! It can’t be real. Blood doesn’t come from plumbing, water does. It can’t be blood. You clench your eyes shut, trying to breathe over the jackrabbiting of your heart in your chest and the burning in your lungs and throat. It’s not blood, it’s not blood.

You nearly jump out of your skin when someone knocks on your door this late at night in the middle of your panic. Instead the water - water! Not blood! - coming from the spout evaporates as the temperature spikes around you and the shower door rattles angrily with a strong gust of wind. Breathing heavily, you answer your door on shaky knees. It’s Steve, face grim with his phone in his hand.

“We need you in the debrief room. There’s been… Activity relating to you lately. We don’t know what it means and we can’t find it in your notes.”

the fragments that stick with you

the ones you really feel

those parts aren't real

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