#dark!stucky smut

[lillyrob]

Actual footage of me patently waiting for my favorite author to upload😫😫😫

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

young ladies shouldn’t waltz with vampires

a/n: happy halloween!!! here's the fic you guys voted on and shaped a few weeks ago

polls for this fic: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

summary: “so, here’s the thing,” his ocean eyes then flickered in the same manner Steve’s had, mystically bending your mind to his will, “you’re gonna come with us, be ours to play with for the night. You can go home when the sun comes up, but without remembering the time we shared…” 

warnings: vampire!bucky barnes x innocent!reader x vampire!steve rogers, smut, dark content, dubcon/noncon, historical au (1840s), mind control/vampire compulsion, blood, biting, age gap, ball, dancing, polyamory, threesome, first kiss, kissing, loss of virginity, somno, cockwarming, dirty talk, size kink, pain kink, pussyjob, overstimulation, penetrative sex, anal, double penetration, unprotected sex

word count: 3511

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“I have to admit, out of every rose here, you’re the most breathtaking.” 

Glancing up from the table before you, cluttered with crystal glasses brimming with refreshments, your eyes flickered to the man now standing beside you, his own piercing blue stare firmly directed at you and no one else in the buzzing ballroom. 

Your stunned lips parted slightly before the gentleman boldly spoke up again, “how come I’ve never seen you before?” 

Feeling your breath hitch, you managed to babble, “oh, it’s probably because this is my first time at a proper ball. I haven’t really previously been allowed to come stay at my family’s London estate and–, I’m sorry…” you swiftly stopped yourself, sensing the heat that had ridden in your cheeks, “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this…”

“Well, lucky us that you got let out of your cage and the rest of us finally get to gaze upon your beauty,” he flashed you a dazzling smile before his eyes flickered to someone behind you, “if you’ll excuse me, I see someone I recognise, but would you perhaps grant me the pleasure of a dance a little later?” 

Averting your gaze, a smile tugged at your lips as you uttered, “you’d have to ask my brother.” 

“But I’m asking you,” he dipped down to catch your vision, “would you care to dance with me?” 

Blinking back at him, you couldn’t help but let out the truth.

“Y-yes.” 

As a smile swiftly tilted his lips, the gentleman then bowed slightly before you as he plucked up your gloved hand and pressed his lips to the back of it before disappearing into the merry crowd. 

Feeling slightly dizzy, you finally snatched up the drink you’d originally wandered to this corner of the chamber to fetch. 

Though as you granted yourself a small sip, fingers suddenly grasped your arm and yanked you deeper into a corner. 

“Sister!” you blinked up into your brother’s eyes as he’d evidently spotted you from across the ballroom and, judging by his tone, not approved of what he’d seen, “what in the world do you think you’re doing?”

Ripping your arm free, you furrowed your brows, “what are you talking about? I was just getting some punch.”

“No,” he hissed at a hushed volume, “why were you talking to him?”

A confused scoff then bubbled out past your lips, “I’ve talked to plenty of men at this party, with and without you at my side, so why is he any different?”

“Because, sister,” he leaned down a bit further, “he’s not a man. He’s one of them,” his eyes scanned your own before he spelled it out, “a vampire.” 

Though you’d never previously encountered one yourself, you still weren’t so naive to not be aware of the known influential status such creatures of the night had in the society you lived in. Them being in attendance at a fine ball was nothing compared to the other privileges they had achieved over the centuries. 

“Really?” you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder, though didn’t spot the bloodsucker again. 

“God,” your brother groaned quietly, “I know mother and papa have kept you rather sheltered compared to myself, but trust me, you have to stay away from them. They’re monsters, killing is in their nature,” with a hand on your cheek, he guided your gaze back to his, “promise me you won’t speak to one ever again.”

Blinking back at him, you then uttered sincerely, “I promise.”

“Good,” a visible weight then faded from his shoulders as he let go of you and straightened back up to his full height. 

As you stayed on the outskirts of the party, one of your fingers curved to trace the lines of the fine glass still clutched in your grasp. 

Soon your eyes flickered up from the liquid remaining in the goblet and landed on the other guests. Elegant crinoline gowns swooshed and swayed to the music emanating from the small string quartet in the corner, acting as a heartbeat for the lords and ladies of London as they danced the night away. 

“Well, as I live and breathe,” a voice then found not only your brother’s ears, but yours as well. 

Twisting slightly, you watched as a wide grin swiftly stretched your brother’s lips, “Thomas!” he spread his arms out for the redheaded man nearly within his reach. 

As they pulled each other into a tight hug, your brother’s friend chimed in his ear, “how you doing, old chap?” before withdrawing from the embrace, though still kept one palm fast on your sibling’s shoulder. 

“Not bad, not bad–, oh, Tommy,” your brother then suddenly glanced back at you, “this is my little sister,” gesturing betwixt you both, “sister, this is Thomas, we went to boarding school together.”

Extending a hand, you smiled politely, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he shook your palm before casting his gaze back upon your chaperone, “would you mind if I stole your brother for a moment?”

“Uhm,” you glanced to your sibling before uttering, “no, of course not. Go, have fun, catch up.”

And before the pair slipped away, your brother leaned down to whisper in your ear, “be good till I get back,” to which you offered him a nod in return right before they both vanished from your sight and left you alone at the edge of the dance floor. 

Though as you slowly began to wander along the perimeter, your gaze once again affixed upon the sea of swaying pairs in the centre of the ballroom, your gentle stride then abruptly halted as a bulky figure shifted to pass you, though as the stranger attempted to, the two of you collided and the remainder of the drink in your hand splashed across his jacket.

You both froze as you slowly peeled your wide eyes up from the stain of your drink, that lightly dripped from his clothing, and instead flickered up to find the stare of the aristocrat you’d accidentally bumped into. 

“Oh god…” your heartbeat swiftly hammered in your ears, deafening out the elegant music that filled the chamber, “sir, I am so sorry, I-I wasn’t looking at where I was going and–”

“It’s alright,” he hastily put an end to your blubbering as he eyed the soaked patch, “it’ll dry,” he uttered, running a broad palm down over the wetness. Though as his gaze flickered back up to find yours, a slight smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he then said, “well, spilling your drink on me, the least you can do is offer me your name so that I know who to warn about to the people who actually are precious about their attire.”

“Lady Y/n Y/l/n,” you averted your gaze as your knees bent in a gentle curtsy, “delighted to make your acquaintance, even under the circumstances–, again, I am so incredibly sorry…”

“You’re a lady but with such lack of grace? Well, now I understand why you aren’t on the floor dancing with someone,” he jested in a teasing tone. 

The heat that had already crept up in your cheeks fiercely worsened, “I am a great dancer, I’ll have you know!”

“Oh really?” a smile dazzled his features, “I think I’ll have to see that to believe it,” he spoke as the current song came to an end and he extended a hand out to you, “shall we?”

For a moment, you let your glance flicker about the chamber in search of your brother, though when you couldn’t spot him, you found your own palm thinking for itself and gliding into the man’s standing tall before you. 

Once he’d led you out onto the floor, the palm he slid across your waist, and used to guide you a smidge closer to his own frame, caused a shy gasp to slip past your lips long before your feet began to shift below your poofy plum coloured gown. 

“Well, I guess you weren’t lying after all,” you soon heard him note after you’d danced for a minute, your movements having been nothing short of perfection since the very first step. 

Blinking up at the blonde man holding onto you tight, you finally asked, “what is your name, sir?”

“Lord Steven Rogers,” the title rolled off his tongue as his own gaze kept yours captive, “at your service, my lady.”

“Are you from here? You don’t sound it,” you commented on his accent, “but are you?”

“That’s a good question,” a slight tilt found his head, “London is one of my favourite places and I have spent many of my years here, but it’s not where I’m from, no.”

“So, you’ve travelled a lot?” you asked as he spun you an arm’s length away from himself. 

“You could say that…” he smirked as he twirled you back into his hold, “are you?”

“Am I what?” you found yourself slightly dizzy, though not from the dancing. 

“From London?”

“Well, my family does have a place here, but I haven’t spent much of my time in the city. At least not yet, I’m hoping I can begin to now that I’m grown, though to be quite frank, I have no idea where to start.”

“I could be your guide,” his offer caught you off guard, “it might have been a few years since I last called this city my home, but I still know it like the back of my hand.”

Mouth shyly agape, you simply blinked back at him a second before uttering, “perhaps if my brother came along as a chaperone.”

“I thought you said you were grown,” the tone he used to deliver his teasing seeped directly into your bones and made you thankful of his firm grip on you as the pair of you continued to sway to the music, “a girl asks for permission and can’t be trusted on her own, but a woman however, takes exactly what she desires and doesn’t let anyone or anything stand in her way…” his smouldering stare then briefly dipped before you heard him murmur, “so, what are you? A little girl or a woman?”

“I–…” you blinked back at him, struggling to navigate the exhilaratingly foreign situation you found yourself in. However, before you could stammer any further, the song came to a close and the surrounding couples parted ways. 

Though before you could take even one step back, his hand kept you close a moment longer as he dipped down for his breath to tickle the shell of your ear. 

“Meet me in the garden,” he whispered, causing even more goosebumps to erupt across your skin, “then you can give me your answer...” 

The cool night air kissed your cheeks as your glance flickered away from the candlelit terrace you’d abandoned only moments prior in order to stand beside the bushy mouth of the dark hedge maze further down the expanse of the estate’s garden. Faint music still found your ears as it echoed out the open windows of the grand manor where the ball still boomed. 

Then suddenly, as you were lost in your thoughts of disbelief at what you were doing, just before you could talk yourself into returning to the party, you felt your hand be grabbed before your eyes fluttered up to find the lord you’d been awaiting, his arrival haven been so sudden that it nearly caused you to jump straight out of your skin. 

Without a single word, Steve began to drag you into the maze, far away from any prying eyes and where the darkness could swallow you both whole.

“Where are you taking me–,” you attempted to ask, though as the man then abruptly stopped, what he did next stunned you to your very core. 

Pulling you close, closer than you’d ever been to any man before, he then pressed his lips to your own, sufficiently shutting you up before you could elaborate your question any further. 

The kiss was abrupt, fevered and entirely your first, leaving you dazed and reeling to catch up to the reality, to the dream you were finally expecting.

When Steve finally felt you relax into him, his feet began to shuffle and shift you back till your spine was pressed up against the denseness of the hedge behind you. 

But just as a shy whimper from you vibrated against his tongue and your fingers drifted up to whisper around his silky necktie, the snapping of a twig suddenly found your ears and caused you to jump away from your dance partner. 

Casting your glance over Steve’s broad shoulder, you spotted as the dark-haired gentleman, that your brother had so fiercely warmed you about, slithered out from the embrace of the shadows. 

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” the man smirked, folding his arms across his wide chest as he continued to stare. 

Eyes wide, you then began to stammer, “Steve,” lightly patting your partner’s arm as he hadn’t yet shifted to protect you with an air of understanding, “h-he’s a–” 

“A vampire?” the aristocratic creature raised an eyebrow, “how about you take another look at the lord that just had his tongue down your throat.” 

Your panicked glare then fluttered back to Steve in front of you, however, before you could manage to push him away, his hands flew up to either side of your face and he dipped down to stare into your eyes with an intense you’d never witnessed before, somehow locking you up in his gaze as he then compelled you, “don’t scream,” and under the moonlight, you swore you saw his pupils briefly dilate as his wish slithered into your soul, “stay calm.” 

Continuing to cup your cheeks, Steve then kissed you once again. Even though his previous words had turned you completely docile in his hold, the sensation of his lips as they soon pecked away from your own, on a determined journey down over your jaw, caused you to melt away that much further.

The neckline of your deep purple gown was so wide that it exposed not only your shoulders, but also crept down scandalously low on your chest. 

Your eyes fluttered shut once more as his kisses tickled in their path down your neck, the sensation shooting straight down between your thighs. However, as soon as Steve’s lips were devouring the tender spot where the base of your throat blossomed into your shoulder, a sharp pain suddenly caused your eyes to snap back open as the vampire had sunk his teeth into you. 

You winced slightly as blood began to trickle free, your gaze locked with the other man’s as he took a step forward and closed the gap. Standing directly behind Steve, his hand then raised up to stroke your hair.

“So, here’s the thing,” his ocean eyes then flickered in the same manner Steve’s had, mystically bending your mind to his will, “you’re gonna come with us, be ours to play with for the night. You can go home when the sun comes up, but without remembering the time we shared…” 

Though you’d barely gotten to sleep an hour, you began to stir as the vampire sprawled out in front of your slumbering form kissed down your neck and swiftly sank his fangs into your shoulder. 

Wincing awake and still weak from the blood the two lords had already drained you off, your hiss soon faded into a mumble, “Buck…”

Tilting his chin back a bit, Bucky lapped up the crimson that trickled down from the bite before he whispered, “shh, you can just stay asleep…” and you noticed his hardness straining against you below the covers, “it’s okay, I don’t mind…”

You couldn’t fathom how the vampire still wasn’t satiated after everything that had happened that night, things a lady such as yourself had never dared to even imagine possible. Even now, you were still slotted in between the two naked men under the canopy of a bed in the grand estate they’d taken you to, your virgin blood still staining the sheets, or the little of it that they hadn’t lapped up for themselves to savour. 

Though the restless one before you had stirred you for another taste, Steve was still sleeping like a rock. He was laying directly behind you, his burly chest still pressed up against your spine as earlier, when he’d impulsively tried to stretch out your ass, made the decision to do something about that impossible tightness and have that little hole warm his intimidating girth while he slumbered. It made it difficult, to say the least, for rest to come to you as the sensation of his fat cock plugging you up was nearly too much for you to bear. 

“Oh, what is it?” Bucky chuckled lowly at the wince you let out as he began to nudge his dick against your puffy pussy, “are you sore?” he asked in a mocking tone, grinning wider as you nodded hazily in response, “but you like it, don’t you?” he torturously tapped the weight of his length against the creamy mess between your thighs, the sensation causing both your holes to throb and clench, making Steve’s cock still embedded deep within you seem that much more enormous, “you like it when it hurts, when the sting of pain mixes with pleasure…” he then caught your eye and compelled you, “tell me that you like it.”

“I like it,” you hear the desperate word flow out your lungs, “please don’t stop, please keep hurting me, keep biting me, drink every drop of my blood, use me however you wish, it all feels so good–, ah!” the pleas he’d made you utter were then cut off by a rippling moan as his bulbous tip suddenly caught your entrance and greedily slid back into your warmth. 

The fierce rhythm Bucky swiftly found rocked you so roughly that the movements didn’t just split your poor pussy open as he bucked up into you, but it also caused your frame to shift back against Steve and sink you down that much further on his cock, letting his heavy sack nuzzle tightly against your slick skin. 

As your whimpers filled the room and mingled with Bucky’s own grunts of pleasure, you felt the girth in your ass twitch and rapidly grow painfully hard before the arm the slumbering bloodsucker had slumped around your waist tightened as he stirred with a low rumble directly in your ear. 

“Mmm… having a little midnight snack, are we?” Steve groggily hummed from behind you as he nuzzled his nose into your tousled hair, “you know she’ll pass out soon if we keep drinking like this.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Bucky then slid his palm down the length of your arm, plucking up your hand till his lips ghosted against it. However, just as you let yourself hope that he’d just plant a peck upon your palm, his teeth instead pierced the flesh, right below your thumb. Although, the vampire did show some restraint as he only offered you a little nip before ripping your hand away from his mouth and holding it out for his partner to grasp, “here, you look parched,” blood already began to pool like a little puddle in your palm from how it slowly oozes out of the wound. 

Accepting the delicacy, Steve first dragged his silky tongue over the bite, before he let his fangs sink into you with a deep groan, the taste of you only making him harder. As he began to drink from your palm, his hips greedily began to rock, making you tremble between the two lords of the night from the dizzying manner they both now fucked you. 

As your moans filled the night air, Bucky’s fingers found your face in a caress before he leaned in to snuff out your sounds and let you taste the tangy iron of yourself on his tongue. Soon, his kisses began to dance down over the column of your neck, till his face was buried in your heaving tits, leaving a blossoming trail of hickeys to mark his path as he moved down to capture your nipple between his lips.  

“I know we usually only keep our dinner till the morning comes,” Bucky muttered as he nipped at your boobs, only pausing to briefly glance over your shoulder at the man behind you, “but there’s something different about this one, don’t you agree, Steve?” 

“She’s fucking delicious…” you heard him purr in your ear, “maybe you could be more than just a quick bite to eat…” both of their cocks continued to rock in harmony, filling your holes up to more than the brim, “maybe you can be our girl…” 

Sucking in a shaky breath, you tilted your head to catch both of their eyes, “for how long?” 

Keeping his neck tilted, Bucky blinked up at you and uttered, “…forever,” before he buried his teeth into the soft peak of your tit.

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[huffelpuff210]

Ours Part 2 Soft Dark Alpha Stucky x Omega Reader

Ours Part 2 Soft Dark Alpha Stucky x Omega Reader

Warning: withdraw, anger, dark themes, kidnapping, drugging, held against will, confinement, forced relationship, manhandling, past abuse, 

Your senses slowly start drifting back, 

“Jesus Bucky how much of that did you give her? She’s been out for two days,” You hear a male voice, 

You can smell they were Alpha’s and you could feel your heart rate spike, You didn’t like Alpha’s, they terrified you, they made you uncomfortable. 

“The exact amount Tony told me to give.” You hear another voice, 

“Well obviously his math was off.” You hear the other voice say 

You slowly turn you head trying to wake yourself, 

“Steve.” You hear 

and suddenly it got quiet, 

You were trying your hardest to open your eyes but it was proving to be a bit more difficult.

Your heavy eyelid slowly flutter open, and you are now staring at an unfamiliar ceiling, 

“Thank god she’s finally awake.” You hear next to you, 

You slowly turn your head you saw two men, one had dark hair icy blue eyes and a metal arm, 

He smelled like pine, and cinnamon, it was almost intoxicating, the other man had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, he smelled like the forest right after a rainstorm, 

these two were Alpha’s you were still in a bit of a daze,

“Good afternoon sleeping beauty you’ve been asleep for a few days, we were starting to worry.” The blonde says 

Then everything registered 

These two were Alpha’s and they kidnapped you, the terror running though your veins, 

You jump out of the opposite side of the bed, backing away from the two, your legs still a bit shaky, 

“You- You-” You couldn’t even speak you were so terrified, 

“Easy Omega were not going to hurt you.” The dark haired Alpha says with his hands up meaning peace, but you don’t trust these men, you don’t trust any Alpha, 

You could feel your heart pounding against your chest as it rose and fell rapidly, 

As you look around the room not entirely sure where you were. Memories of your past come flooding back, your father, whipping you with a piece of bamboo, just to cause you pain, your brothers holding you down as you cried, 

The small room, you feel your green eyes glow the icy blue as you start to panic, the two alpha’s look at you in shock and in their shocking state you make a run for it, bursting out of the room, past the living room and out the main door where there was more hallways, you run left your breathing, shallow and ragged having a panic attack as you were running you smelled many Alpha’s in the building, you find a stair well running as fast as you could down the stair well, while you were panicking at the same time, what did these Alpha’s want with you, you were on pills that block your smell, why did they kidnap you? 

suddenly someone jumped from above blocking your path, making you back up and look as small as you could possibly look it was the man with dark hair, you back into a corner, 

“P-Please don’t hurt me.” You say with a shaky voice, 

“No one is gonna hurt you doll.” He says approaching you cautiously 

You slide down the wall looking up at him, you’ve heard those words many of times, from your father, He was a ruthless Alpha, he blamed you for your mother’s death and always treated you as an object not a person, 

And because of that you didn’t want to be in the clutches of an alpha, but here you were terrified trapped like prey, helpless to do anything, panic taking over all your training in self defense forgotten, you were paralyzed in fear, your heart hammering against your chest, 

“look doll, no one is going to hurt you but you need to calm down, your on a verge of a panic attack.” He says 

you can still feel your eyes glowing the electric blue that your father said were disgusting that he would love to dig them out of your eye sockets. 

“Watch. In through your nose, out of your mouth, Deep breath in slow breath out.” He says 

Sadly you listen to what he says, you feel yourself calming down, your eyes turning back to their green color, 

“Good doll your doing good.” He says with a smile as he is kneeling in front of you as you look into his eyes and look down quickly, 

They only want one thing from you. 

“Now why don’t we go back to the room so we can talk?’ a voice to your left says it was the man with blonde hair, you have no idea how long he was there you were too much in a panic to notice, 

You hesitate, 

“You don’t really have a choice in the matter doll, we are just giving you the option to walk.” The man with the dark hair says, 

You stiffen and swallow thickly, you nod slowly standing up, they both walked aside of you, 

they both were massive compared to you, nothing but muscle you stood no chance against these alpha’s even if you used self defense against them, they would break you in half like a twig, 

the three of you arrive back in the room, it was massive, you didn’t notice before since you were in such a panicked state, 

“Now let’s sit and talk.” The blonde says with a smile as you stood there still in disbelief that all of this was happening. 

[emberenchanted]

“There’s enough food to last at least four people for a good week or two.”

Or... You know, two super soldiers and a regular human 😂.

She is going to be in for a RUDE awakening when Steve arrives. But she seems pretty deep in with Bucky, so will she be willing to throw it all away? Since this is a dark fic, I assume they aren't going to give her that option. I loved this first chapter and can't wait to read more 🥳🥳

trust me -

chapter one

series masterlist / chapter two

pairing: stucky x curvy!reader (dark!steve/soft!dark steve and bucky/soft!dark bucky)

warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. smut. non consensual voyeurism. mentions of paranoia and anxiety. light hair pulling. mention of overstimulation. m masturbation. unprotected sex. +18 ONLY. (if i’m missing something important pls let me know!)

words: 5.7k

notes: the smut is atrocious i apologize in advance 💀 i’m really excited for this series - i hope you guys are too! as always, feedback and comments are welcome and appreciated! thank you for reading 🖤

“Steve?” your voice fell into the quiet surrounding you as you called out into the dark, turning to look behind you, though you weren’t sure you wanted to know what may have been waiting. Worry and fear coursing through your veins as you could have sworn you heard footsteps coming up from behind. Panicking internally, you didn’t know if you should freeze or turn back around and run as fast as you could manage. After a second, you found yourself doing neither, instead taking a small step forward, in the direction of the noise you heard, in the opposite direction you had been heading.

Why? You didn’t know. Maybe deep down, you were hoping it was him. To finally put an end to all of this. Maybe you had some sort of death wish.

But no, you weren’t suicidal. A masochist, maybe.

Or maybe you just couldn’t really believe it was him. It couldn’t be. You were so careful.

You had been so careful.

Taking another step, you held your breath as you tried to squint into the darkness. You couldn’t see anything. There was nothing to see. You were alone. Of course you were alone.

You were paranoid as anxiety ate at you. You spun around and continued forward into the pitch black night, only trees surrounding you as you tried to orient yourself in the thick forest you found yourself in. You had made sure not to bring a lot with you. You were armed only with your backpack, the clothes on your back, shoes on your feet, and the biggest jug of water you could find at the house.

You’d removed all devices you had previously had on you, left your tactsuit behind, too. You didn’t know what had trackers and what didn’t. You didn’t know what to trust so you left nearly everything behind.

Did you have any clue where you were going? No. But you knew you had to go somewhere. You had to get out of there. You had to get away from him. From them, you forced yourself to correct the thought.

It had been two weeks since you had been sent on a solo recon mission. It was easy. Simple. Safe. Or it was supposed to be, at least.

It was also highly confidential. Steve had given you specific instructions as to what you could discuss, nearly nothing, and who you could tell about your assignment, essentially no one. It seemed like it was only him and Bucky who were in the loop at the time and though you were iffy on not keying Stark in, Steve assured you it was for the best. That everyone who needed to know would know when the time came.

And he wouldn’t even tell you the whole story. That should have been your sign to know that something was up. The second he called you in, you just knew something was off. He was acting so differently. Everything in you was telling you that something wasn’t right, but you ignored the feeling. You were known to be a bit..overly cautious. It was something you were working on. And of course the one time you decide to ignore your intuition, this would be the situation you find yourself in.

You had arrived at the safe house the night before you were set to head into the small, unsuspecting European town where the supposed “marks” were working. The more you thought on your assignment, the less sense it made. You tried to brush it off, tried convincing yourself it was the lack of information you were given that was making things seem as unclear as they were. And who were you to question the Captain America? You were still fairly new to being in the field, still recovering from your last mission..from the attack. You were in no place to question anything right now, and certainly not from the man who helped save your life mere weeks ago. He trusted you with this assignment and you should be thanking him for getting you back out there, even if this assignment was a little too easy, it was more than you had to do lately. You just had to locate their base, take some pictures, and report back to Steve. It wasn’t complicated, and there was nothing to worry about..

Still, there was a nagging voice in your head and an odd feeling in your gut trying to tell you that something was wrong.

You made yourself a quick dinner with what you had found in the cupboards and the surprisingly well stocked and kept fridge. The house was certainly one of Tony’s better ones. It seemed like more of a vacation home with how nice it was. And though it was certainly in a more desolate, hard to find or access area, it was still gorgeous. You stared out the window while you ate, looking into the trees that surrounded the place. It was dark out. Still, serene. The view was captivating. But out of nowhere, you were taken out of your peaceful state and almost dropped the plate you were holding when you thought you saw someone outside.

It was a blur, but you could have sworn you saw a glimmer of, well you weren’t sure, but you swore you saw something. You were instantly on edge and grabbed your pistol as your eyes scanned all around the outside. You slowly approached the back door and shoved it open before stepping outside and checking the perimeter of the house. The coast was clear and you didn’t see or hear anything other than the insects and birds that were nearby. Walking back inside, you locked the door behind you and proceeded to check every window and the front and side doors to ensure they were locked as well. When you were satisfied, you cleaned up your small mess and decided on a shower to calm your nerves. Shaking your head at yourself, you sent a quick message to Steve to let him know you were at the safe house and would be heading into town the next morning. You threw your phone on the bed and as you pulled your shirt over your head, thought you heard a door squeaking open. As you shifted your feet, you heard the floor squeaking beneath you and chided yourself for being so jumpy for no reason.

You walked to the bathroom and started the water, letting it warm up as you continued to undress. Once you were done stripping, you got in and tried willing yourself to relax.

You were just about finished showering when you heard your phone going off. You finished up quickly, rinsing off and jumped out of the shower to grab it. You weren’t paying much attention to your surroundings and you didn’t see him waiting for you. Even if you had, though, there was no way you would have been able to escape him. He was too fast. Too strong. And he knew your weaknesses better than anyone.

The shriek you let out when his arms wrapped around your vulnerable body from behind you was piercing and utterly useless. Your hands instantly found him as his head fell to your shoulder while he laughed. You heavily exhaled your breath, shakily as you tried to ground yourself. The feeling of warmth and flesh under one hand and hard vibranium plates under the other, paired with the laughter you could recognize anywhere was like a bucket of cold water being thrown on you, but a relief and comfort in the same breath. You elbowed him in the ribs, but it did little to phase him.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he laughed. “I had to,”

“Yeah, that’s really fuckin’ funny, Bucky,” you bit. “Let go of me, jackass,” you huffed as you tried to struggle out of his arms, still completely naked and your body wet from the shower. He clearly couldn’t have cared less as his hold on you only tightened while you hit at him and he continued to laugh. As angry as you wanted to be, you felt you couldn’t. You hadn’t told him everything about the attack that night. He couldn’t have known how affected you really were by his little scare, how fucked up and unfunny it was to you. You were sure if he had known, he’d never have done it. In fact, you were sure he’d never have let you come out here by yourself in the first place if he knew. That’s part of the reason you had decided not to tell him the whole story. There was no point in worrying him over it.. Steve had said much the same when you were on your way home after it went down.

“Aw, you get scared so easily, don’t you, princess,” he said teasingly, clearly amused with himself.

“Bucky, let me go, seriously! I’m dripping wet,” you complained as you struggled away from him..

“I’m counting on it,” he responded smoothly as he spun you around and shoved you back, causing you to fall onto the bed before he crawled on top of you.

“What the hell are you even doing here? How did you get here?” you asked, annoyed, as you tried to roll out from under him.

“Steve sent me. There’s been a change of plans,” he said nonchalantly as he kept you exactly where he wanted you, eyes hungry as he drank you in and his hands ran up and down your soft skin.

“What change?” you muttered out as you writhed beneath him, his fingers tickling you as he brushed over your sensitive areas knowingly.

“Don’t know. He said he’ll fill us in when he gets here,” he said into your neck in between kisses.

“Wait, he’s coming here, too? That doesn’t seem..like, strange at all to you?” you asked as you again tried to get him off of you.

“I’m not worried,” he said coolly. “All he said was to meet you here, let you know that your assignment and mine are both on hold and that he’ll be here as soon as he can. We just have to stay put and wait. And there are certainly worse orders to follow and worse places to be locked down at. Trust me,” he said as he pulled away from you, only to move back in to kiss you.

“He’s not gonna be here until tomorrow night at the earliest. I can think of a lot of things we can do to kill the time,” he said against your skin. “And I missed you so much, baby,” he murmured.

“Missed you, too, Buck,” you replied weakly. You were tired and honestly still a little upset, maybe shaken was the better word, but you didn’t want to talk about it. Or think about it for that matter. Instead you found yourself pulling him closer to you by his hair. You stared into his eyes, trying to reassure yourself of your safety. You had nothing to worry about, especially not with Bucky here. After a moment, you pulled him into another kiss.

Bucky was back on top of you, letting his hands wander wherever they pleased, taking full advantage of your lack of clothing.

“Buck,” you breathed.

“Hm?” he hummed against your skin. You moved to sit up and he backed off slightly, helping you. You were now propped up against the pillows, making yourself comfortable before you moved to spread your legs around him, putting your entire body on display for him. His eyes glided down your body before they dropped down to your glistening pussy and he groaned at the sight, letting his hands glide down your body until they reached the top of your thick thighs, squeezing the supple flesh of your hips.

“Take your clothes off,” you told him wantingly.

Bucky wasted no time in doing exactly that while you looked on, admiring the flex of his muscles as he removed his clothing. He was right back on you in the blink of an eye, wearing a smirk that could kill.

“Say no more,” he simpered as you laughed before he kissed you once again. Deep and loving and exactly what you needed. He pulled away from you, his blue eyes dark, breathing heavier as he slowly made his way down your body, taking time to lavish kisses and lovebites to every inch of skin he could.

You moaned when he took a nipple in his mouth, suckling on you while his hand played with your other breast, tugging and pulling at your nipple, causing you to wince at his touch. His hands slid down your tummy and returned to your hips, pulling you closer to him before he placed soft kisses all over your stomach, paying special attention to your marks and scars while you let your head fall back and your eyes shut in pleasure, your fingers winding themselves into his hair. He made his way lower until his lips were on your clit, instantly causing you to moan out as he sucked.

His tongue darted out past his lips, licking at you expertly before he moved further down, bringing his left hand to your entrance. Using his thick fingers to rub at you, he smeared your wetness around before he pumped two fingers inside of you.

“You’re so fucking wet, princess,” he admired. “You miss me?” he asked tauntingly.

“Mhm,” you nodded desperately, fingers tugging at his hair, urging him back to where you needed him to be. “So much.”

“Good,” he said before moving his fingers deeper inside of you until you cried out as he was curling against you perfectly. He let you have your way as his soft lips returned to your clit, sucking harsher than he had before, tongue teasing you as he fucked you on his vibranium fingers. You were a mess of moans and whimpers as he played you so easily. You were clenching down on his fingers the closer he brought you to your orgasm, and he had you begging for him to make you come. It wasn’t long after that he had you crying his name and tugging his hair to get him to stop the overstimulation. He pulled away from you, licking his lips as he looked at you like you were an angel sent from heaven above.

“I’ll never get enough of you, you know that?” he said, gently removing his fingers from you and bringing them to his lips, sucking them clean while you stared at him, mouth agape. He leaned back over you and crashed his lips into yours, the taste of yourself on his tongue had you keening as you pulled him closer.

“I love you,” you breathed against his lips.

“I love you more,” he rasped before finding your lips again, his arms wrapping under you, hugging you to him. You could feel his hard length against your thigh, throbbing when you gently nipped at his lip and let your hand wander down his torso softly before your fingers delicately teased his cock. His eyes squeezed shut, his pink lips parting as he let out a sharp exhale, letting you do as you please.

You stroked his cock as you peppered kisses down his throat. Taking your time and relishing the sounds of pleasure spilling from his lips, raining praises down on you and moaning your name. You were smearing his precum around the head of his cock, pumping him faster, when he cursed, sounding like your touch burned him. You couldn’t help your little smirk when he nearly whimpered as you let go of his length.

“Please, baby,” Bucky choked out, looking at you with pleading, ocean blue eyes.

You flipped around, forcing Bucky to do the same so he was against the pillows now and you were above him, eyes locked on his, blue swimming in lust and need, you were sure yours looked much the same. You held his face in your hands, pulling him to you, noses brushing when you kissed him with everything you had to give. Trying to get across how badly you needed him, too. Though his arrival was unexpected to say the least, you couldn’t have been more grateful to have him here.

You always felt safe with him, you knew you were safe with him. And that’s what you needed, after everything. You needed Bucky. You’d spent all of a few hours with him the past week and you didn’t realize how badly you’d been missing him. He finally pulled away from your kiss, his hands finding your face in return, eyes full of concern now as he searched your face.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he cooed, voice gentle, wanting to ease you, but commanding enough to get you to meet his gaze.

“Nothing,” you breathed, shaking your head. “Nothing’s wrong. I just- I’ve really missed you,” you deflected. You almost felt bad for not telling him everything, knowing he’d want to know, but you weren’t fully lying to him, either. You really had missed him. “I need you, Bucky.” you mewled, lowering yourself down onto him, grinding your ass against his cock, earning a pained moan from him that turned into a hiss.

“I know, baby. I know,” he told you. “I need you, too,” he panted, moving your hips back so that his cock was better positioned at your entrance. He slid his dick against your pussy, up and down, as his head nudged deliciously at your sensitive clit. You couldn’t help yourself and started moving against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through you. You sat higher up, kneeling over him now. You gripped his thick length and positioned him at your slick opening before slowly sliding down on him, moaning out at the instant stretch as Bucky gripped your wide hips, his rough hands moving to knead your ample ass, relishing the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing him.

You began riding his dick, slow and achingly for both of you. You couldn’t get enough of the feeling of him inside of you, the nudging of your clit against him with each grind of your hips. Bucky’s hands moved up to your chest, squeezing your heavy breasts in his hands before he leaned up and buried his face in them, licking and kissing your nipples, being encouraged by the way your walls squeezed him even tighter at the sensation. When he pulled away from your chest, he pulled your face down to his, pulling on your hair to do so. His lips crashed into yours heatedly. He gripped your hips once again, taking control of your motions now, and thrusting up into your tight heat. You cried out at his first few thrusts, the sound muffled by his tongue exploring your mouth. He didn’t let up and you soon found yourself grinding back onto him, meeting his every thrust. His hands slid up your back, holding you while he continued fucking up into you, the sound of your flesh slapping against his with every thrust and your moans and cries mingling with Bucky’s grunts and pants filling the room.

“You’re so fucking good, baby. Such a good girl,” he praised through heavy breaths. “You take my cock so well.”

You mewled again at his words and found yourself on your back in a heartbeat as Bucky flipped you both over again. Your legs instinctivelly wrapped around him as he fucked into you, hitting so deep. You felt near dazed, drunk of the high of him, you swore you could see stars. The glide of his thick cock inside you was overwhelming, bordering on too much to handle. You didn’t think you’d be able to hold your orgasm if you tried. “I’m so close,” you whispered. “Mm, ‘m gonna come, Bucky, I’m gonna come.” you crooned.

“Come for me, princess. Wanna feel you squeeze me, baby. Let go for me,” he coaxed as he rocked his hips against you, the motion stimulating your clit. That was the last little bit you needed to push you over the edge, to let go completely. You came with a shout, crying at the sheer euphoria, legs tightening around him as you did.

The grip you had on his cock had Bucky coming almost immediately after you, which let you know he had been close for a while and fought off his own orgasm to ensure you came first, like he always did. Your pleasure was always his number one priority. He made it well known to you from the very first time you slept together, and every time thereafter.

You felt like you were in heaven, Bucky’s heavy body atop you, your hands running soothingly up and down his back as you both came down from your highs, his head buried in your neck, both of you trying to calm your breathing. After a few minutes of lying there, Bucky tenderly pulled out of you, placing a kiss on your forehead as he got up from the bed and moved into the bathroom. You heard the sink run for a second and Bucky was back before you a moment later. He gently cleaned you up with a damp rag and then himself before he settled back down on the mattress. You smiled lazily at him as he pulled you into his arms. You laughed at nothing, just the feeling of happiness bubbling its way out past your lips as you nuzzled into his chest, his warmth surrounding you as he pulled the comforter around your intertwined bodies.

“That was really good,” you sighed.

“That was amazing,” he grinned in return.

“You’re always amazing,” you told him, looking up to meet his eyes, needing him to know how sincere you were.

“Such a sweet talker,” he laughed at you, causing you to smile in turn. You rested your head against his chest again as his hands now ran soothingly up and down your back.

“I’ve missed this. I feel like we haven’t had any time together lately. I’ve missed just being with you, ya know?” you murmured.

He hummed in response, placing a kiss a top your head.

“I know. I’ve missed it, too. But we’re gonna have time together now. No missions to get in the way, nothing to worry about.”

“Until Steve gets here,” you responded glumly.

“We’ll still have each other when he does,” he reminded you. “It’ll be nice, all of us getting to spend time with each other.” You furrowed your brow as you took in his words..

“Working isn’t really the same thing as spending time together,” you argued.

“No, I just meant, you know none of us have really seen each other much lately..” he tried to explain. You didn’t really get what he was saying, but didn’t want to start an argument over nothing.

“Okay,” you allowed. “I just meant that I miss you. Alone time with you. Just you.”

Bucky looked at you, eyes filled with something akin to guilt. “It’s okay, though. We’re both busy, it’s not like it’s your fault,” you wanted to assure him, ease any sense of guilt he might have had.

He smiled weakly, kissing your forehead again, holding you a little tighter.

“This’ll be good for us,” he whispered into your hair. It was only going to be a day you’d have alone with each other, but you figured he was right, it would be good for you both. Might as well make the most of what time you had together before Steve arrived and you were back to focusing on the mission. Whatever it really was…

The rest of your first night at the safe house was spent entirely wrapped around Bucky. Your cuddling turned into making out that turned into soft cockwarming that inevitably turned into sex, again and again. He showered you with his love and sweet words, drowning you in his affection. Making sure you knew how much he’d missed you. How much he cared for you. You weren’t sure what time it was that you eventually fell asleep, but it was well into the early hours of morning.

Your lack of sleep, however, had no effect on your alarm. It was nearing 8:30 when you begrudgingly forced yourself to get up, prying Bucky’s arms from around you in order to do so. You had showered last night but that clean feeling was long gone now. You knew you smelled like sex and sweat and you were sure the sheets and blankets did, too. You made a mental note to wash them as soon as Bucky got up, figuring he’d sleep for a little while longer. That wasn’t the case, you realized as his hand grabbed yours when you moved to walk away from the bed. You looked back at him and his eyes were still bleary with sleep as he tugged at you.

“Where you going?” he asked, voice thick with sleep.

“To shower,” you said quietly, running your free hand through his messy bed head.

He groaned before he let go of your hand and propped himself up. “I’ll join you.”

An hour later you were toweling off and putting your clothes for the day on as Bucky took the bedding to the washer. The very expensive washer. You made a comment about how upscale this safe house was compared to what you’d had to stay in before, how it seemed more like a vacation home instead. Bucky just let out a light, awkward laugh, “Seems that way.” Weirdly avoiding looking at you as he grabbed the comforter off the floor and went to the laundry room.

You watched him as he left, curious, but choosing to focus on finishing getting ready.

If you let yourself think too long about why you were here in the first place, you started to get a little ancy, bordering on paranoid - like you often did. But knowing that Bucky wasn’t concerned or worried helped quell those feelings. You trusted him and his instincts, so if he didn’t think much of it, you knew it was probably all in your head.

It didn’t take much longer to finish up in the bedroom, and you headed to the kitchen. You walked in on Bucky on the phone, when he saw you he seemed to cut the conversation short with a, “fine, we’ll see you when you get here.”

“Steve?” you asked as you moved further into the room.

“Yeah. He’s gonna be here around eight,” he responded, running a hand through his hair.

“Did he say anything?”

“About what?” he asked, looking at you.

“The mission? Like, what we’re doing out here in the middle of nowhere, not telling anyone what we’re doing or why,” you said, growing agitated at the feeling of being in the dark in regards to whatever was going on.

“Don’t stress, sweetheart. He’s gonna tell us all about it tonight. Let’s make breakfast,” he said, wanting to get your mind off of things.

“That’s another thing,” you started, not wanting to let this go so easily. “This place is fully stocked with perishables, don’t you think that’s odd?”

“Baby, your mission has been planned for two weeks. Steve probably had a contact bring stuff over before you got here so you’d have edible food.”

“But I was only supposed to stay here one night, two tops,” you returned. “There’s enough food to last at least four people for a good week or two.”

“Maybe someone was supposed to be coming in after you. You’re not the only agent in the world, ya know?” he tried to joke, but his brushing off of your thoughts rubbed you the wrong way. You decided to go outside, clear your head hopefully.

“I’m gonna go walk around for a bit,” you said.

Bucky was in front of you in a flash, blocking your way.

“You can’t,” was all he said.Your eyes narrowed as you looked up at him.

“I can’t?” you repeated, growing more annoyed.

“No. I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna worry you, but Steve said we need to lay low. No comings or goings until he’s here.”

“Bucky, what the fuck is going on?” you asked, exasperated.

“We’ll figure it out when Steve gets here, okay? I promise.” He reached out to rub your arm, but you shrugged back, avoiding his touch. Eyes hard as you examined his face intently, your eyes searching his.

“I know you know something, Bucky.” You stated, not an ounce of doubt in your voice.

“Baby, please. Just trust me.” He said, almost pleading, but with the subtle hint of authority his voice naturally held. You swallowed the lump in your throat at that. Willing yourself to calm down. You did trust him. With everything you had, you trusted him.

You stepped closer and took his face in your hands, making direct eye contact, gazing into the deep blues of his eyes, making sure he was fully seeing you and hearing you before you spoke.

“You know I trust you. Please don’t give me a reason not to.”

He was looking right back at you as he nodded his head and you slipped your hands from his face, taking a step back from him. “Okay, then,” you huffed. “Make me pancakes or something.”

His face brightened instantly as he smiled at you, looking relieved. “Your wish is my command,” he replied smoothly.

You tried to let the gnawing feeling that something wasn’t right go, but it was still there in the back of your mind. You cooked and ate with Bucky at your side before you set to wash the dishes as he went back to the laundry room to put the bedding in the dryer.

You met back up in the living room, deciding on a movie to pass the time as you cozied up with him under the throw blanket. The day passed a lot quicker than you had hoped it would, knowing your alone time would come to an end soon. It’s not like you didn’t enjoy being around Steve, you did, you’d just been away from Bucky for so long you wanted to stay in your own little bubble with him for as long as you could. This little glimpse into what domestic life with Bucky would be like made your heart soar and had you looking to the future with brighter eyes than you had before. You made lunch together then cleaned up and found yourselves getting lost in one another again as Bucky had you up against the counter, pushing his weight into you as you kissed each other greedily. He spun you around and bent you over the counter top, slipping his joggers down and your sweats down right after. Your toes were barely touching the floor with each thrust Bucky made into you. Your hips would be sore later from the harsh pounding against the wood, but the pleasure lighting through you had you not caring in the slightest. If you had been paying more attention to your surroundings, if your eyes hadn’t been squeezed shut in ecstasy as Bucky took you from behind, maybe you would have taken notice of the little surveillance camera that was hidden across the room, pointed right at you.

On a quinjet about five hours away, Steve watched as you came undone on Bucky’s cock. He couldn’t resist from pulling himself out of his pants as he looked on, slowly pumping his own stiff cock, desperately wanting to know how it’d feel if it was your hands stroking him, or your mouth sucking him dry, or your cunt wrapped around him as he fucked you. He was cursing and growling as he pumped himself faster and tighter, watching as Bucky carried you to the couch, positioning you perfectly, giving him the best view of you as you and Bucky started round two. He could hear your moans and cries along with Bucky’s panting and dirty talk while he got himself off. As he continued watching Bucky fuck you, he finally let himself go when you came for the third time, Bucky following shortly after. He cursed under his breath, regaining his breathing as he cleaned his mess and zipped his pants back up. Letting out a heavy sigh as he looked on at Bucky kissing you adoringly, you cuddling into him. He couldn’t wait until that was him, too. Until he was there with you, showering you with all the affection he’s had to keep to himself - and Bucky on the rare occasion they had any time alone. When he wasn’t on a mission or training, he was with you. He tried hard not to resent him, he knew it was all part of the plan, but he was having a harder and harder time seeing you two together when he couldn’t have either of you the way he wanted.

He had been waiting so long to finally get you out there. To finally get his share of your affections. The last mission you were on was too close of a call. He almost lost it completely and that would’ve ruined everything. He hadn’t even told Bucky what really went down, just that he couldn’t keep waiting forever. Despite Bucky’s protest, claiming you still needed more time to get introduced to the idea, Steve went ahead with his plan anyway. Bucky might be a little pissed at him for this whole scheme, but it’d work out for all three of you in the end. He was sure of it. He really couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to be there. To be with you. Five hours. Just five more hours.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖Make it Stick: Pt. 3 The Knight

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Bucky x ofc x Steve

Word Count: 3195

Tags: dark!fic, mob/mafia au, mob!Bucky, mob!Steve, dubcon/noncon, sexual coercion, half-sibling incest, m/f/m, non-con drug use, mentions of torture (non graphic), double penetration, forced tattooing, forced orgasms, enemies to lovers

Summary: When his babygirl—his sweet pea, little one, puppy ... half-sister—is recaptured after her latest attempt at running away, Bucky makes a power play in front of the entire Bratva to remind her exactly who she belongs to.

Dark and smutty content below the break. Consume responsibly.

Wait! I haven't read part 1, part 2!

“Nnn, pl-please…”

Her gasp is hardly audible this time, she’s so out of breath.

Panting from the way the second orgasm’s just ripped through her. And she’s crying still, but only just. Not like before. Because now the pleasure’s overtaken most of the anger, all of the fear, and even some of the humiliation. Bucky pulls his hands from her and delicately eases her panties back into place, smooths her little slip of a dress out for her. He looks up from his spot on the floor.

Her chest heaves with her breathing, the underside of her breasts—beautiful and natural under the silk—on full display for Bucky from this angle. And, Christ, her nipples are pebbled up, just begging for attention. Bucky sees Steve refixing his hold on her waist to support her because she’s gone so slack. She’s shaking against him, his body practically the only thing keeping her vertical at this point.

Inside his pants, Bucky is … uncomfortable. He slowly pushes up from where he’s been kneeling in front of her, coming back to stand at his full height and crowd in close again. He cages her between his body and Steve’s, hands landing on her waist right alongside Steve’s own. “Shh sh sh,” he hushes, mockingly tender. “Don’t you want to say thank you for your orgasm?” He leans in so that the words are whispered against the side of her head. He’s staring at Steve as he says it, and when Lena’s mortified, overwhelmed little whimper comes in response, he doesn’t miss how Steve’s mouth twitches at the corner. Steve likes to play the white knight—and maybe he sort of is, compared to Bucky, but even still, he’s no sweetheart. And he’s enjoying the heck out of this. “Are you hard?” Bucky whispers, and he feels his sweet puppy’s body stiffen between them as she figures out who he’s talking to.

“You have to ask?” Steve answers, the rumble of his voice no doubt felt against Polina’s back. She makes another little outraged cry when Steve presses forward, driving his erection against her backside and pushing her more tightly up against Bucky.

Bucky, who helpfully slots his thigh back between her legs. She shivers as her sex is pressed up against him, going stock still to avoid any stimulation. Bucky coos down at her. He lets go of her waist and cups her face with one hand, tucking her hair behind her ear with the other. “Aw, princess,” he murmurs. “You sensitive now? Hm?”

She sniffles and nods her head. She’s been much more forthcoming ever since the suppository and the pill worked their way into her system. Behind the glossy sheen of her tears, her pupils are even wider and darker than Steve’s. It’s hardly taken any work at all to get her to come twice for him, she’s so keyed up.

Bucky tuts lovingly and brings the still buzzing vibrator up in front of her face. He twists the base, turning it off. Lena’s whole body slumps between them with relief, and Bucky chuckles. “Don’t get too excited. This might not be over for you.”

“W-what …” she swallows dryly. “What do you mean?”

“You still have a choice to make.” Bucky taps the little bullet vibrator against her lips. “Open.” She clamps her mouth shut stubbornly, so Bucky shrugs and rubs it over her instead, smearing her own release onto her lips. He leans in and slots his mouth over hers, licking the taste of her right back. “Mmm,” he hums. “Somebody’s been drinking their pineapple juice.”

She’s glowering at him when he pulls back. Bucky licks his lips like he’s savoring the last taste of a fatty meal. He can tell from the look on her face that he’s actually right: she has been drinking it. He feels a rush of fondness mixed with anger come at that—Fond, because it’s proof that she takes even his smallest teachings to heart.

“No, seriously. That’s why I have a glass each morning. It makes cum taste sweeter. … Pussy, too.”

Anger, because it’s not him she’s been drinking it for.

He forces the latter emotion away with a deep breath and a long exhale. He doesn’t have to be angry, because nobody but him is ever going to taste that pussy again. … Well, almost nobody but him. “Okay, little one,” he sighs. “Time to make a choice.” He reaches around her and tucks the vibe back into Steve’s pocket. Then he looks down and meets her gaze.

Her pretty blue eyes are wide but dazed, high from the drugs coursing through her system. Bucky smiles and cups her face with both hands. She’s so fucking beautiful, with her round little face and plush lips, her pretty blue eyes. They’re near arctic in color—closer to Steve’s cornflower blue than Bucky’s own muddled blue-grey. Sharp and clear, like ice underwater, and positively gorgeous when they’re crying.

Lena sniffles and Bucky’s heart twinges with affection. He leans in and kisses her cheeks, cleaning up her tears. “You need to listen to me now, Polina,” he murmurs, feeling her shudder underneath his touch. “Are you listening?”

She whines a little, not able to give up completely on her stubbornness, even now. Bucky loves her so goddamn much. She tries to squirm in their hold again, but as soon as her over sensitized clit bumps Bucky’s thigh, she’s calming back down. “What?” she asks quietly, sniffling and trying to put on a stiff upper lip. It’s cute.

“It’s up to you, how this goes,” Bucky tells her. He looks over to his right and catches the eye of one of the widows. It’s Belova. He jerks his head for her to go and get the supplies that are waiting in the wings. She disappears and reappears with a rolling tray table of tattoo supplies. “This,” he says to Lena, “is what’s happening.”

She squints in confusion at it for a second or two—the tray of gauze and ointment, inks and gloves and gun—before her eyes register the stencil and read it … and go wide in realization. She jerks in their hold, thrashing, tossing her head back against Steve’s chest in another vain attempt to hurt him. “No!” she huffs, the sound breaking into a pitiful whimper at the end, despite her bravery. “No, you can’t!”

Bucky waits her out, and sure enough, her little tantrum dies down. She cries, and he wipes those tears away, too. “Shh,” he soothes. “It’s not so bad.”

“It is!” she cries. “I hate you. I hate you!”

“You’re a smart girl, Lena. You can’t tell me you didn’t always know you’d wind up here.” He tilts her chin up when she refuses to look at him. Her tearful, angry eyes meet his, and he offers her a tender smile. He gives her another kiss, just a peck on the lips, this time. “I always get what I want, sora mica,” he murmurs, right against her lips.

Little sister.

She shudders underneath his touch but doesn’t shirk away, and Bucky preens because he knows the war that’s going on in her head right now, even if she’ll never admit to it. Revulsion, mixed with lust, and darkness, and something too close for comfort to love. It’s what he used to feel, back before he decided to give up on conventional morality altogether. Poor little Lena, though, he thinks sadly. She hasn’t gotten there yet. Oh well, she’s young, she’ll learn.

“Now,” he tells her, thumbing over the familial cleft in her chin. “You have two choices, sweet pea. You ready to listen to ‘em?”

She grits her teeth and purses her lips in an angry little moue, stubborn thing, though she capitulates when Bucky tightens his grip on her chin. “Yes,” she whispers tightly.

Bucky smiles. “Okay. Now, two things are happening, no matter what,” he says, raising a warning eyebrow at her. “You’re getting this tattooed on your body … and Gleb back there is going for a long swim in the Hudson.” He waits her out while she throws another hissy fit over that, tears leaking and eyes burning up at him. Bucky sighs and looks off to the side until it’s over. Then, when she’s slumped back against Steve again, all tuckered out, he continues, “If you hold still like a good girl, I won’t take your dress off in front of all these people, won’t force any more orgasms outta you down here where everyone can see. And Gleb’ll get wheeled off to his morphine and an easy death. No torture, just the widow’s bite—lickety-split, no fuss-no muss.”

He watches as her eyes flare and her face crumples with suppressed emotion. She composes herself faster this time, though, and he continues softly, drawing her lip down with his thumb. “But, if you make things difficult? I’ll have you squirting all over this floor before I knock you out and ink you while you’re unconscious. And Gleb will have …” he looks off to the side, as if trying to parse out his words, “... mmm, he’ll have a very stressful weekend.” He tilts his head and narrows his eyes, squeezing her chin sternly enough that it smooshes her cheeks the barest bit. “Are you gonna be good?”

She looks torn for a second or two, but then her eyes slip closed in defeat. In Bucky’s hand, she gives the tiniest of nods.

Bucky’s pleased, but he wants more from her. “Tell me,” he commands. “You’re gonna hold nice and still?”

She sniffles and nods again. “Yes,” she breathes. “I’ll hold s-still. I’ll … I’ll be good.”

Her meek response satisfies him. Feeling a sudden wash of tenderness towards her, he leans down and presses their foreheads together and whispers, “Thank you, little one. You know how I hate to see you struggle.”

She shivers against him but doesn’t throw out any bratty quip. She keeps her eyes down, avoidant. Sighing, Bucky pulls back and steps aside to have a word with Belova. He tells her his plans for Gleb, and she gives a sharp nod and heads off to handle it. Bucky knows then that he can put the idiot man from his mind for good. The widows will more than take care of him.

Bucky returns to Steve and Lena, ready to get to work. Really, he’d prefer Natasha to be the one doing this. Bucky’s no amateur with the gun, but he’s not as good as she is. Oh well. He has a steady hand, and the design is extremely simple. Just that one phrase, in cyrillic:

собственность дракона.

Translated roughly, it means: Property of the Dragon.

“Steve,” Bucky says. “Sit with her on the bench. It’ll help keep her calm.”

Along with the cart of tattoo supplies, a rolling stool, a bench, and a padded armrest have been brought over from the Red Room. Steve all but lifts Lena and brings her over there, straddling the bench first before pulling her to straddle it in front of him. Bucky goes about setting up, snapping on a pair of black vinyl gloves while Steve wraps his arms around Lena’s waist and murmurs quietly into her ear. Bucky smiles at the pair of them. Steve cares about Polina, too, has known her for almost a decade, and he’s always had a knack for calming her down. A good thing, since Bucky’s so naturally gifted at riling her up.

He sits on the stool and scoots over to them. Lena watches him warily. Steve’s used both his and Bucky’s discarded ties to bind her arm down at the wrist and at the bend of her elbow, in case she gets second thoughts about her promise of good behavior. Bucky’s mouth quirks at the ingenuity, and his dick twitches at the optics. He’ll have to take a picture, one he’s got the ink in. A shot of her arm; reddened and bleeding with his mark, and his and Steve’s neckties framing it. Fuck, he might jerk off to it sometime.

He spends a minute getting the ink prepared, and then he carefully cleans her inner forearm and applies the stencil. It’s small but long, stretching almost the full length between the ties. It’ll take a good hour or more in its entirety, but Bucky isn’t a sadist: His little one has been through a lot, and they’ve got a long night ahead of them once they take her upstairs. Bucky wants that time to be spent mostly in pleasure, not pain. They’ll just do the outline, for now.

Lena whimpers when the paper peels back from her skin, revealing the design left behind. “Bucky,” she pleads, though one look up at him and her begging stalls. Bucky gives her a grim, apologetic look, and she knows. She knows she’s not getting out of this. She whines lowly and turns her face into Steve’s shoulder.

“Shhh,” he soothes her, his big arms wrapped tightly around her waist, comforting and restraining all at once. “You’ll be fine, hon. This is how it has to be.”

Bucky settles himself and the gun, then turns it on. Soon, the buzzing fills the small space between the three of them. In the background there’s still the noise of the club: music, chatter, bodies moving around. But in their little corner in the back, it almost feels private now that they’re centered around what Bucky’s about to do to her. “Okay, malyshka,” he murmurs, waiting until he’s got her full attention. “Watch the gun. Don’t want you jerking around in surprise.”

He’s a little taken aback by the emotions that hit, as he brings the needle down and starts inking her for the first time. He’s marking her permanently, branding her as his in a way that will never wash off, and from which she can never escape. And despite her tears and the ties binding her arm down, she is sitting there for him, allowing it. That goes straight to Bucky’s cock as sure as anything else he’s ever done to her, and he spends the rest of the session focusing on each line and curve, putting the red ink underneath her skin and trying to work out what it is that’s twisting up in his gut so bad. There’s lust and possessiveness, that much he expected, but there’s also a certain amount of … melancholy? Maybe. Whatever it is, it’s there too. A feeling of resolution, of an era coming to an end. Arousing and yet oddly bittersweet.

Lena’s fist is already clenched when he starts, but he can see her body stiffening further as the burn of the needle really sets in. Her arm flexes and her fingers curl harder into her palm, the veins popping against the strained lock of her inner elbow. Steve keeps up a gentle litany of praise and reassurance in her ear, half of which Bucky hears and half of which he misses due to his own focus on the gun. He’d love to take Steve’s place, be the one to hold her and comfort her through this, but that’s just not possible because he simply doesn’t trust anyone else to do the work.

He’s even glad that Natasha refused to do it, at this point. Because this isn’t just any tattoo. It’s personal and intimate. A promise as good as any wedding ring. Probably better-than, in the fidelity it’ll enforce. Not on Lena’s part, poor thing, but on the part of any man who might dare to entertain the idea of an affair with her. One look at her arm, and that idea would go straight up in smoke. These red words are branding her for life, in more ways than one. It’s only right that Bucky be the one to do it.

“Almost done,” he murmurs when he’s finishing up at her wrist. It’s the most painful area, and he regrets saving it for last. But his girl does beautifully and keeps relatively still, sometimes hissing or whining in pain but never asking for a break, and never twitching enough to throw Bucky off course. He finishes the outline and sits back, setting the gun aide on the cart and reaching for the salve. He smiles at his little one, who by now has stopped crying. “Good job, sweet pea,” he praises softly.

Her defenses are down from having all of her focus on something other than him for so long. She only blushes a little when he uses the nickname, and says nothing snarky back. Bucky’s heart pulls with it. In Steve’s lap, she watches as Bucky uses a tongue depressor to apply the salve in long, smooth strokes over the raw areas. She blinks at her arm like she’s fully waking from a dream. “... That’s it?” she asks, sounding surprised, maybe even disappointed—though that’s probably just Bucky’s wishful thinking.

“For now,” he tells her, bringing out the non-stick pads and adhesive wrap. He’s giving her all the aftercare that he’s neglected on himself—already the back of his neck and shoulders feels tight and unpleasant, and he doesn’t want the same for her. Steve pulls the ties loose to release her arm, and Bucky explains, “You have delicate skin, sweetheart. We’ll let this heal, fill it in another time. Add some other design elements, if you want.” He catches her look of surprise and smiles, then looks away before her expression can shutter on him. He gently applies the pads along her skin, wrapping her up in an opera glove’s length worth of neon pink animal print bandaging, nice and tight. “There you go.”

“Cheetah print, really?”

“Just special for you, my little hellcat. Don’t worry, you can take it off tomorrow.” He rolls out on the stool and goes around to stand just in front of the bench. Briefly, he meets Steve’s eyes, and they have a short, non-verbal conversation, at the end of which Steve nods smally in agreement. “Okay,” Bucky says, reaching out to palm Lena’s face.

She automatically goes to shirk away from it, but Steve whispers something in her ear—Bucky doesn’t hear what—and it makes her settle. She bites her lip and peeks up at Bucky through her lashes and ruined makeup. “I was good,” she whispers, like she’s half-sure Bucky’s going to revoke his end of the deal.

He tries not to let it show on his face, how that hurts him. “Yeah, sweetheart. You were very good.” He bends over to kiss the top of her head, then turns and searches out Belova. She’s standing next to Maximoff now, over at the bar. Bucky goes over and holds out his hand. Pietro shakes first, Yelena second. “Thank you,” he tells them. “For bringing her back safely.”

“Again,” Yelena says with a smirk and a semi-suppressed eyeroll.

“You should get a leash,” Pietro jokes.

“Or a homing beacon.”

Bucky waves them off (though the homing beacon idea has occurred before), telling them to go back to their drinks and enjoy their evening. He doesn’t bother asking if the Gleb issue’s been dealt with—he knows from the look on Belova’s face that it has.

Part four

Masterlist

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[steves-sub]

Submissive Sunflower

Chapter 2: The Flower Shop Invite

Summary: Steve comes to your flower shop with an invitee you couldn’t turn down.

Warning: hints at Steve being dark but nothing severe yet.

Tags: @patrickbatemanswifee @wickzbby @atnatt @slutalexis46 @apollosouls-blog @luvfromdixiedoll @buckyssupersoldier

@chemtrails-club @maxinehufflepuffprincess @teddybearsgrr @ripofflizzie @brasspistol @zxymsq @kandis-mom @foggyturtleknightangel @ah-beans0 @cjand10 @ashadash0904 @angiestopit @emerald-writes @shinytreefire @scarlethexelove @vonalyn @mememe7147 @lostinamazi @kattreffic

It was a beautiful autumn day. The flower shop that you were working at has been open for hours and not a single customer has come through. You weren’t surprised, you were lucky to get even ten customers a day. The wind chimes you set up outside the store could be heard through the glass door.

Was this job ideal? No but it was the best you could do in your situation. The owner of the shop had a room upstairs that he gave you at a discounted price if you just worked the shop 5 days a week. “It’s hopeless,” you sighed as you went to close up the shop. As you walked towards the door to turn the sign to close, the door opened and you felt a strong, muscular hand grab yours. “I hope you aren’t closing yet darling,” you heard the voice of your favorite customer.“Steve!” you proclaimed as you wrapped your arms around his waist. His thick arms did the same as you felt his scruffy beard on your collarbone. It feel like he was smelling you but you just brushed it off. “Hey little sunflower,” his deep voice rumbled.

Sunflower. That was his little nickname for you. The first time he came into the shop looking for flowers, you told him about them and how much they were your favorites. He loved them so much that he came back every week to get a new bouquet.

“I was a little nervous when you didn't come in at your usual time, but I’m really happy you are here!” You smiled at those blue eyes that you have grown to love. You couldn’t help but have a crush on this man. He was so sweet, kind, caring and made you feel special. No one has done that in a while. “Sorry angel, I got stuck at work,” he said as you noticed him roll up his sleeves. That was one of the things that bothered you about Steve. He knew everything about you but you knew nothing about him. He never talked about his work, his life, or who he was getting the flowers for. All he ever said was he lived with friends and the flowers were for him. But you didn’t care, you were just happy just to have a friend as kind as him.

“So, the usual for you?” You sweetly spoke as you started to gather a fresh bouquet of sunflowers. “Yes, and I have a request for you.” Steve stated and he walked towards the counter, hand in his pockets and the piercing blue eyes you have grown to love looking at you. “A request?” you quipped as you raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes sweetheart,” you heard him chuckle. You loved the sound of his laugh. “I was wondering if you wanted to come over, I have been telling the friends that i live with all about you, and they are very curious about who the sunflower is that I’m so fond of.” As he spoke, you felt his hard callous hands slowly grab yours. The thumb rubbing circles on your hands. “Really?” You said with excitement. That chuckle came out of him again. “Yes really darling. How about tomorrow? At 7?” He said.

You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as you spoke. You couldn’t believe this was happening. “I. I would love to. Yes!” You wrapped your arms once again around his strong frame. Those hands of his started to squeeze tightly around your waist. “Here,” you said as you let go. You quickly tied up the sunflowers into a nice yellow bow, just the way you know he likes it. He goes to reach for his card but you stopped him. “It’s on the house, and I’ll bring more friday.” The soft smile you gave him just made Steve chuckle. “Thanks my little sunflower, ill see you then” Steve said with a wink. As you watched the tall blonde walk away, you were already thinking about your future with him.

Little did you know, you two were thinking very different things

[howdoyousleep3]

Rating: Explicit (E) Word Count: 4.7K Notable Tags: Dom/Sub AU, Heavy Power Imbalance, Non-Con (from characters other than Steve and in the past, no major detail), Daddy Kink, Age Difference, Sex Trafficking, Human Trafficking, Submissive Auction, Angst With a Happy Ending, Depressive Thoughts, Depressed Bucky Barnes, Slight Stockholm Syndrome, Crying, Subspace, Blowjob, Face Fucking, Orgasm Denial, Cock Cage, Size Kink, Size Difference A/N: This was originally supposed to be published in the last Kinktober I participated in under my Age Difference day. I've only read one story that was in the Dom/Sub AU and I was so taken with it, it's all I thought about as I wrote this. It's a universe where, kind of like Omegaverse, everyone has a designation of Dominant or Submissive. I didn't dive into it too heavily, but I left it totally up for my interpretation so...don't mind me lol. Compared to what I usually write, this one is kind of twisted and dark. Please read the tags and don't continue reading if it makes you uncomfy. ❤️

Read here on Ao3.

The lights in this room are much more dim than the ones in the showcase room they’ve just performed in. He feels the line of his shoulders relax at the sight, be it merely a smidgen, heart still hammering against his rib cage. His limbs continue to tremble unpleasantly, his head pounding, his hole wet and aching to the point of pain. 

He is used to this happening when he’s used without completion, climax other than his own being robbed from him, when he isn’t used for his purpose. He does as they’ve trained him though— he ignores his tender emotions and his body’s biological signs of unfulfilled submission. 

Bucky barely has half the mind to take in his surroundings, to lift his chin and glance around the room he’s quickly being shuffled into. It almost looks like a study, someone’s personal office or library. It’s deceivingly cozy with its maroon walls and moody lighting, a fireplace lit and in use on one end of the room, bookshelves lining the opposite wall. He’s slow to take in the bed in the center of the room, one that seems entirely out of place yet perfect in this setting, large and cloud-like and luxurious. 

The exhaustive ache that Bucky feels deep down to the center of his being yearns to curl up in the center of that bed like a kitten, to not be roused for hours on end. Instead he’s ordered to his knees on the rug next to it, the command settling unpleasantly on the nape of his neck like they always do. 

He looks down at himself, his nude and flushed form, eyes locking onto his hands bound and curled together in his lap, and he wonders how this is where he ended up in life. 

“Listen to me,” the handler tells him, voice unharsh yet still grating, the command one he’s forced to listen to. Bucky’s never enjoyed his designation, has rarely ever been comfortable being a Sub, but these moments are the ones he hates the most. He despises not having a choice, has a special kind of hatred for being commanded against his will, his body listening before his mind can fight against it. But he’s quick to respond, quick to mumble, “Yes, Sir,” because that’s what they’ve spent the last three months training Bucky to do. 

“You no longer belong to us,” the Dominant handler states without emotion, and even given the circumstances, relief kicks up into Bucky’s chest. “Your personal possessions are in this bag, your Dom will handle everything else once your bond is initiated. If it is initiated.” Bucky flinches. “You understand the reputation we hold here and the standards we’ve instilled in you, yes?” 

Bucky bites out another, “Yes, Sir,” before the handler is done moving purposefully around the room, coming to stand in front of Bucky. He doesn’t raise his head, just as he’s been taught.

“Good. I advise you to keep those in mind once you leave this place. You haven’t been the easiest Sub to deal with, James. I’d hate for your Dom to send you back here because you did not meet expectations. He won you fair and square with the highest bid; don’t make him regret that.” 

The severity of the situation Bucky’s been put in, the past few months, hits him in the solar plexus when he hears these words. He isn’t sure why his brain decides to catch up in this moment, why he decides to feel the weight of the past weeks here at the feet of his handler in the very last moment they’ll see each other, but he feels his chest constrict painfully. His hole aches in waves, mouth watering in preparation for what it thinks is coming, desperate, and Bucky bites back his whimper when he feels his dick wish to fill out. 

He never gets what he wants, what he needs, is always left feeling unfulfilled and purposeless. They’ve had to increase his dosage of meds they give him each day as a result of how affected he has become from touch after touch leaving him emptier and emptier. A Sub shouldn’t live like this yet here he is, having been picked up off the streets and trained to be the best of the best on such evil touches. 

He’s going to be so fucked up because of this place. 

Having been put on display in every possible way in the performance room during his shining moment, he wonders if this is the last time he’ll feel so used and hollow. Will his new Dom continue to leave him feeling so empty? Will he make Bucky do things he doesn’t want to do, use him against his will, take advantage of him and his designation? He feels so low in this moment he can’t see anything but that happening, of being owned and living this life of misery. Surely Bucky won’t survive. 

His handler doesn’t even say goodbye, doesn’t acknowledge Bucky as he leaves, and Bucky hates how much that hurts. He’s once again betrayed by his biological needs, betrayed by the intrinsic need to please and to obey, and even given the piss poor treatment they’ve put him through here, Bucky wishes his handler would leave him with more positive words, with the praise he so desperately craves. 

When he hears the door close behind the Dom, he can’t help the whimper that bubbles up and out of his mouth. 

His eyes don’t leave the floor because no one has told him he can raise his head, and even though he no longer belongs to this establishment, he can’t will his inner submissive to look up. Instead, his eyes lock onto the cage around his dick. He despises this thing. Before he was lured in with promises of a warm meal and an even warmer bed he had only heard of cock cages being utilized in either the most severe of relationships or for fun, no in between. He had never worn one until his training. 

He hates it, has tried taking it off on his own multiple times before his harshest of training had set in. He hasn’t come once during his time here, can barely remember what his own climax feels like. 

“Your pleasure no longer belongs to you, James. Your orgasms are not your own; they belong to your Dom.”

It’s ironic yet devastating to Bucky that all of this training, all of this pain, was pointless. Bucky could be a good Sub for someone, he knows it. He could give the right someone all of the things his training had brought out without the misery he’s gone through for these people. He could give his mind, body, and soul easily over to the right person. This line of thinking shifts into the only thing that brought him comfort each night; the only thing that helped him get the little sleep that he did— 

His Daddy. 

Well, hopefully his Daddy. 

If he’s the perfect man for Bucky, he’ll be his Daddy. 

And his knight in shining armor, this perfect Dom, his Daddy, would come one day to take him away from this hell. That’s what he dreamt about each night, that his Dom, strong enough for the both of them, big enough to easily cradle Bucky’s not entirely petite form close to his chest, would whisk him away from this place and give him everything he could ever need. His Dom that can teach him how to cook his favorite meals for him, his Dom that is patient, his Dom that is proud of Bucky. Every night when he needed comfort to sleep, this man would be the comfort Bucky needed to finally rest. 

Bucky wonders what his Dom is going to be like, what he’s going to look like, but most of all Bucky wonders if he is going to like Bucky. Surely he is attracted to Bucky if he got into a bidding war with someone else for Bucky, if he paid damn near a million dollars for Bucky’s bond, for his life. There is a sliver of hope that the highest bidder’s intentions are pure.

Bucky is so exhausted, right down to the bone, that he doesn’t even startle when he hears the door to the room open once more. He doesn’t lift his head, as he’s been taught, but this time he does it because of the onslaught of nerves that wrack his body. This is it, this is his new Dom, the one he’ll have for life, the one whose bond will be initiated tonight. With one last unmated deep breath, Bucky sends a wish out into the universe for his Dom to be kind, for him to show Bucky the love he’s never been given in life, to love Bucky. 

The sound of steady footsteps reach his ears at almost the same moment a sense of calm washes over Bucky’s being. It hits him in waves, drips down his spine like warm honey, a sensation so pleasurable his chest shakes with his caged sob. His nostrils fill with the scents of cinnamon and vanilla and a bonfire deep in the forest. His eyes well up with tears as he continues to look down at his hands, mind racing in disbelief at his body’s immediate reaction to his new Dom, a reaction he’s not experienced before.

Hope begins to seep into Bucky’s limbs as a pair of sleek, black boots come into view.

“James?”

Oh. 

He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until his next exhale comes out as a choked sob. Upon hearing that voice the hope in his body bursts, shatters, into something more fierce, something that has him responding with a quiet and thoughtless— 

“Daddy?” 

He doesn’t look up, doesn’t let his eyes leave the floor, those expensive boots. He feels his hands tremble in his lap, can almost hear them do so. He isn’t given enough time to panic about addressing his new Dom by a title that wasn’t approved by him, wasn’t given permission to use, because his Dom is responding confidently. 

“Look at me, please.”

Bucky’s eyelids flutter upon hearing the gentle command in such a soothing, rich voice, and he takes a deep and shaky breath before listening like a good boy…

And immediately begins sobbing in full.

It’s the faceless man from Bucky’s dreams, he’s sure of it. He has kind ocean eyes, an otherworldly physical presence. There’s experience etched into every part of his being, from his graying hair to the wrinkles around his eyes to the calmness that sweeps off of him in waves. He smiles down at Bucky and it makes him feel like he’s the most precious creature on the planet. 

“Oh, my angel…”

This is the man that is going to save his life.

This is his Daddy. 

With his eyesight now blurry because of his tears, he doesn’t see the hand coming down before it cups his chin. There’s a strength in this grip that Bucky knows will soothe him, hold him, love him for the rest of his life. A thumb swipes at his tears, wiping them from his cheek. He can’t remember the last time he felt such comfort from another human being. Even before he was forced into this facility, through all his sexual encounters, gentleness and softness were not things he experienced. He’s almost forgotten what it’s like, to feel a reassuring touch. 

“James,” his Daddy reverently murmurs, stroking his thumb over Bucky’s trembling bottom lip. “Why are you crying, sweetheart?” 

He swallows thickly, his eyes roving over his Daddy’s face, taking a few seconds to selfishly drink the older man in. His body reacts to its Dom’s presence like it knows its Daddy is finally here, its biological needs taking over all other needs, roaring to life within him. Bucky’s eyes fight to cross when he takes in the size of his Dom’s denim-clad thighs, how he fills out his cozy sweater. His Daddy’s so big. He wiggles his hips where he sits, chin in his Daddy’s big hand. 

“I’ve just…I’ve…I’ve been waiting for you for so long,” is what Bucky ends up saying quietly, sniffling, and his Dom’s smile is slow and sweet, like he enjoys Bucky’s answer. 

“I’ve been waiting for you forever, James.” 

Those words feel like pure sunlight.

But Bucky shakes his head without thought, stops himself abruptly after two shakes. He’s reminded then of his handler’s words, that he was a difficult Sub. He can’t take the risk of being anything but the best Sub. He’s already afraid to lose his Daddy; he has to be good. 

But his Dom has caught his defiance. 

“What is it, James?” 

“Nothing, Sir.” 

His Dom doesn’t miss a beat. 

“No, sweetheart— no lies, no holding back, no unspoken feelings. I always want to know what you are thinking, what your feelings are. So tell me, James. What is it?” 

Christ. Bucky can’t help but sniffle again, unable to get his tears under control. His Dom is perfect. 

“B-Bucky,” he mumbles. “I go by Bucky. I don’t…I don’t like James.” 

His Dom’s smile is warm, his fingers that squeeze around Bucky’s chin reassuring. He repeats Bucky’s name, practicing it a few times, each one sending Bucky melting further into his head and surely into the floor. 

“Of course, sweetheart— Bucky. My name is Steve,” he tells him, and Bucky’s insides warm with more of that sunlight Steve is bringing into his life. 

Steve. 

A strong name for a strong man, a name that belongs to a man that gently commands attention. It’s the perfect name, or so Bucky thinks.

“But you can call me Daddy, Bucky.’

That’s the best name, the perfect name. 

Hands still tied together in his lap, dick still in its cage, Bucky turns his head and nuzzles his cheek into his new Daddy’s palm, the warmth and sheer size of it making him lightheaded. It takes him a moment to recognize that this is the beginnings of him going under, of finding that sweet space within. He’d gotten so used to being forced there, his designation being used against him to put him under, that he’d almost forgotten what it was like to be sent there willingly. 

His whimpers seem endless even to his own ears. 

“Look at that,” Steve marvels from his place above Bucky, voice the most soothing of tones, a sensation in and of itself. He allows Bucky to nuzzle his cheek further into his palm, even as Bucky gives into the urge and desire to press kisses to his fingers. Such a forgiving Dom.

“I knew it the moment I laid eyes on you, that you’d be everything I’ve dreamt of having all to myself.”

Bucky sobs. The emotions that one sentence brings him is enough to beg Steve to not go any further. But Bucky is selfish, he is admittedly greedy. He’s been given nothing while being here, before this. He has continuously poured from a deserted and infinitely empty cup and has been given nothing when his heart, his mind, his body demands it, needs it, in order to survive. 

“Your tears,” Steve murmurs, interjecting his own shared line of thinking. “Are they good or bad, Bucky? Please tell me.” 

A request yet a command. A tender one. One Bucky must answer, is finally willing to answer. “Both,” is what he decides to admit. 

“Both?” 

He nods his head within Steve’s grip. “Yes, Daddy. Bad because…because I am sad for my past self. That I was never given a chance to be good and then said chance was forcefully taken away from me.” Before Steve can speak to those words, Bucky quickly continues. “But good because you’re here…you’re finally here. And I…I get to be so g-good for you.” 

Steve’s exhale is heavy, laced with a sound of pleasure that settles over Bucky’s own shoulders and neck. Bucky’s dick strains against its cage, his mind slipping from himself further. 

Steve sticks his thick thumb between Bucky’s lips and Bucky nearly sobs again, hiccuping around where he purses his mouth.

“You are extraordinary,” Steve tells him and Bucky truly believes it given his reverent tone. “The moment you stepped on stage, I knew it. I’ve been coming here for years. Did they tell you that? Years, Bucky.  I’m their hardest client to please, the one they couldn’t wait to be rid of. Money is of no importance, my preferences vague. Kept telling them I’d know when to bid, when the right Sub would be coming home with me.”  

Bucky sucks on Steve’s thumb harder, grateful to have something in his mouth as his Dom showers him with praise. 

“They even told me they’d go out of their way to find someone that fit what I was looking for, that we could forgo an auction altogether. I told them no.”

His Daddy is so powerful. 

Bucky slips further into his head. 

“Never once did I question myself; I knew you were out there. And when you stepped onto that stage with those legs and that mouth and those eyes…oh, kitten— you were made for me.” 

Bucky sways forward, head dizzy with need and relief curling together, tightly wound. Steve wraps his other fingers around Bucky’s chin, holding him steady. 

“And you’re going to be the sweetest, most affectionate boy for me, aren’t you? This is everything we’ve both been waiting for, isn’t it?”

Bucky nods his head frantically, laps at Steve’s thumb and sucks it into the back of his mouth. 

“You’re going to bring us so much joy through your submission, aren’t you? You’re going to bring us the purpose we’ve been craving. Together.” 

Bucky doesn’t know how to communicate that his feelings are terribly overwhelming, that he doesn’t know what to do with himself because of it. The force of his emotions leave his body trembling where he kneels. If Steve’s thumb weren’t in his mouth his teeth would surely be clacking against one another with the force of his tremors. His head spins in less of the dizzy way he’s been experiencing these past weeks and more in a euphoric way he’s always dreamt it could. 

His body already trusts its Daddy, leaning towards him and into his touch, loosening up further and further. The line in his shoulders softens, the tension in his thighs diminishes. Even with Steve’s thumb in his mouth, the tightness no longer residing in his jaw is obvious. 

Even as Bucky spent his nights dreaming of this moment, weeping for this moment, he never imagined it could be this perfect. 

But then Steve is reaching for his belt buckle with his other hand, the button on his black dress pants, and Bucky wonders if he is in fact dreaming. 

“Let Daddy give you something else to suck on, sugar. You look like you need it,” Steve purrs, reaching into his now open dress pants and pulling out his cock. Weeping nearly as much as Bucky has been, Steve’s cock is impossibly thick and deliciously heavy. It has Bucky’s hips wiggling once more, his vision going blurry as he’s presented with his Daddy’s cock for the very first time. He can’t stop the onslaught of sniffles and weepy eyes as he reminds himself once more that he’s so goddamn lucky Steve waited for him. 

He opens his mouth as soon as that cock is above him, letting Steve’s thumb pop from between his lips, whining as he does so. He can smell Steve from here, his warm scent with an added muskiness to it that has Bucky unabashedly groaning, tongue out. 

And then Steve pulls his balls out too, and Bucky nearly asks to be pinched. 

“Daddy…” 

“Gimme a kiss, sweetheart. Let Daddy feel that precious mouth.”

The moment the fat head of Steve’s cock lands on his tongue, Bucky feels the closest thing to submissive bliss he’s ever felt. It’s euphoric. The taste of him, this Dom, his Daddy, blooms on his tongue, bursts through his being. The taste of his excitement, his precome, forces another ragged noise from Bucky as he sucks Steve further into his mouth, savoring every inch of him. Steve’s thunderous and drawn out groan feels like a climax to Bucky.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steve exclaims through an exhale, Bucky barely tethered to the earth. “That’s it. Show Daddy how much you’ve missed him, show him how perfect you are.”

In the three months he’s been here, servicing a Dom has not once felt like this. In his time before this, his time on the streets and beyond, he’s never felt solid within his submissiveness. The stretch of his jaw, the hot slide of velvet wrapped steel on his tongue and down his throat, the feel of Steve’s large fingers sliding through his hair; it all brings him a sense of purpose he’s failed to receive all these years. 

And he can’t help but sob around his mouthful. 

“I knew it, I…fuck, I knew you were made for me, Bucky” Steve tells him, voice full of awe and dripping with lust. “I can’t wait to see how far you drop, how far I can push you. You’re gonna let Daddy push you, aren’t you? You’re gonna let him learn all about you?” 

Bucky confirms Steve’s suspicions with another loud, garbled noise around his cock, one of obvious enthusiasm. He’s dropping hard now, wants to tell his Daddy he’s barely holding on, but then Steve’s hands are moving, holding Bucky’s head in place as he pulls his hips back. 

Using Bucky. 

What little headspace Bucky has left reserved for himself is used to marvel at how easily, how purposefully, it was for Steve to step into this role as his Daddy. 

He’d give Steve the world. 

He’ll give Steve whatever he wants, whenever he wants it, all the time. 

This is his life’s purpose now, being used for his Daddy’s pleasure, serving his Daddy. Being owned by his Daddy.

He’s left with no choice but to cry. 

Bucky opens up his throat as his eyes begin to close, leaning forward on his knees, letting Steve fuck his mouth. With an easy and sharp noise, Bucky immediately knows that Steve wants his eyes open and on him. He does just that, looking up at Steve as he sticks his tongue out obediently, moaning at the fullness of his mouth. 

“That’s it, that’s a good boy,” Steve murmurs, voice melting down Bucky’s spine as Steve’s fingers dig into his hair. “You’re so good, you’re already so good for your Daddy. Look at you, look how much you love sucking on your Daddy’s cock. You perfect baby Sub.”

Bucky’s head grows fuzzier, his dick aching, his core aching. He slurps around Steve’s cock but it does nothing to slow the trail of spit dripping down his chin and sliding towards his neck. Steve is a dream, an absolute dream. Bucky needs a communicator, needs someone who will listen and who will talk to him, especially when it’s filthy. Bucky wants to be talked dirty to, wants to experience that side of sex, especially when it’s praise. Especially when it’s from Steve. 

Without warning, Steve kicks his hips forward, a noise akin to a growl falling from his lips, his fingers tightening in Bucky’s hair. It’s a slip of his obvious control, his inner Dom breaking through, impatient. Bucky meets him full force with his own submission, moaning around his Daddy’s cock, showing him he can take it. 

“Yeah, you know what that is, don’t you? Your Sub knows a Dom when he feels one, doesn’t he?” 

Bucky’s whine is damn near desperate. 

“You know how hard it is for your Dom not to take you right here on this fucking floor, sweetheart? Makes me feel feral, the way I want to make you mine. Mhmm, your Daddy doesn’t want that though. Your Daddy wants to take you home, take you away from this place forever. He wants to treat you right.” 

Bucky swallows around his mouthful.

He can feel Steve’s groan all the way down here, down in his toes.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, sweetheart,” Steve tells him, his hands holding onto both sides of his face. He pulls his cock out of Bucky’s mouth just enough to where Bucky can only suckle on the tip of it given the restraint Steve has put him in. The connection of their eyes, the way Steve looks down at him, strikes a chord deep, deep within Bucky. 

He whimpers as he suckles on the big, swollen head of his Daddy’s cock as he listens. 

“I’m going to give you what you want. I’m going to give you my come, fill your pretty belly with it. I have a hunch that’s going to send you right under, which is perfect. You’re so perfect, angel.”

Bucky whimpers again. 

“And then Daddy’s going to take you home. And when we get home, I’m going to give you a bath and play with your little body until you’re nice and loose and ready to take my big cock.” 

Bucky whimpers again. 

“And then I’m going to fuck your little hole until it sends you right back under, until you come all over my cock, until our bond snaps into place and we finally and officially belong to one another.” 

Oh. 

Bucky sniffles as he lets Steve use his mouth, tears trailing down his cheeks and mixing with the spit smeared on his chin. He wasn’t sure if the person who bought him would want to bond so quickly, if they’d want to bond at all. It’s been implied to him since he got here that he was too difficult of a Sub to become bonded. To hear that Steve wants to take him away from this dreadful place, to their home, in order to bond with him is a dream come true. 

It’s what begins to send him under. 

“That’s it, kitten,” Steve pants, fucking himself impossibly deep into Bucky’s mouth. “That’s it, baby. Oh, I can almost feel you slipping from me. Have you stolen my heart already? Have you tempted my bond already, Bucky?” 

Bucky’s vision begins to grow fuzzy around the edges, his mind pulling in on itself, hypnotized by the drag of Steve’s cock in and out of his mouth. In and out, in and out, in and out. Blessedly not rough, but intense and all-consuming. His jaw nearly aches at the stretch of Steve’s girth and it’s— 

It’s bliss. 

Daddy’s hands in his hair, Daddy’s cock in his mouth, Daddy’s praise in his ear, Daddy’s eyes on his face, Daddy’s come on his tongue. 

“Daddy.” 

“You’re mine now, Bucky. No one is ever going to hurt you, never again. I’ll give you everything you could ever want as a Sub and as a boy. You’ll never wish for anything now that I’m your Daddy,” Steve tells him as he shoots off down Bucky’s throat, hands in Bucky’s hair, petting him as he pumps his hips.

His Daddy’s voice is steady and strong, full of promise and love. And as he kneels there at his Daddy’s feet with Steve’s warm come settling into his belly, his Daddy’s cock still in his slack mouth, Bucky finally, finally lets himself sink.

[littlemelaninfics]

So, I really want to get back into Dark! Writing..👀 18+ ONLY

That was honestly the whole reason I created this account, to separate my darker pieces from the more socially appropriate, if you will.

I don’t want that to be the focus of my page, but I do think I’ve deviated away from it a bit too far, so I just want to start incorporating it again!

If you have any requests, send the in!

Here are a few examples of my Darker writings:

TRIGGER WARNING

1.) Dylan O’Brien

2.) Steve Rogers

3.) Chris Evans

[deceitfuldevout]

Sleeping Beauty

Dark!Husband!Steve Rogers x Wife!Reader x Dark!Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2,476

Warning(s): +18, Non Con, Dub con turned non con, Misogynistic remarks, Forced Cuckholding, Unwanted orgasm, Forced eye contact, Double Penetration, Bucky partakes in your bedroom tradition.

Author's Note(s): One shot fic. I'm bored at work and wanted to kill some time.

It was the day of your anniversary and your husband is nowhere to be found. You stare back at the clock ticking in the dining room. It had been almost an hour and Steve still hadn’t returned. This isn't the man you married. If your Stevie promises something, he intends to keep it.

You sat alone at the head of the dining room table, cupping your tear-stricken face. It makes you sick knowing that your husband was out there doing god knows what at this hour. You were sure he wouldn't miss something as important as this specific day. Just one day, was that so much to ask?

Your ears perk at the sound of the front door knob jingling. In comes Steve, being hoisted up by his best friend Bucky. His face is a tint of red that spread all the way to his ears. You had only seen him like this a few times, the first time during a new year’s event when he'd confessed his love for you, the second had been on your wedding day. It was obvious that he'd been too drunk to even walk straight. There's only one thing responsible for causing this: Asgardian ale.

Bucky’s smile falters when he notices you frowning. He sits Steve on the couch then walks over to the dining room table where you're sat. His metal hand brushes through his dark locks, “I uh…sorry doll, Steve said it was your anniversary and I suggested we celebrate-”

“I swear Barnes, you'll find any excuse to get my husband drunk. Just look at him! He can barely walk!"

He sighs, “I was the one who cut him off. He was the one who insisted on drinking." Nudging to his passed-out friend. You scoff, “That doesn't explain why he’s drunk off his face right now.” barking back. Bucky’s shoulders stiffen and arms cross. He stares at the floor in silence. You massage the sides of your temple. Only stopping when Bucky mutters, “With a wife like you I wouldn't blame him." Causing you to abruptly look up, “Excuse me?”

“I mean, if I came home to my woman bitching every day, I’d want to be drunk off my ass too,” he sneers. Your jaw drops, “Who...who....” almost at a loss for words. You shoot up, “Who the hell do you think you are!? You don’t know a thing about marriage!”

“Marriage? No. But I know a leech when I see one. You don’t even know how to be a wife. Ask Steve and he’ll start singing. You barely clean the house, don’t even cook, always have some sort of excuse to avoid sex. You don’t do jack shit. Steve works his ass off every day, and you don't even put it out when he gets home?” he scoffs, “So fucking entitled I swear.”

"The only ‘relationship’ you've had in the past 70 years is with a block of ice." you jab. His jaw ticks, that one actually managed to get under his skin. Every damn day you'd find a way to inadvertently piss him off. If you wanted to stoop low that's fine, he can go lower, “Yeah well you seem to be occupied with that little pink vibrator of yours," he noticed the color leaving your face, "Oh yeah, I know you've been hiding it from him. You think he‘s too dumb to understand what it’s for, shit, you even had the gall to ask him to buy you new batteries for ‘kitchen appliances’, I mean, how stupid do you think he is?” he chuckles, "If you needed a real man, all you could've done was ask,"

All you see is red. You give him a final warning, “Well, I don’t see a man.” you snap back, "You know what, James? Times have changed, and I think Steve’s friends should too.”

Bucky doesn't like that. Not one bit.

“Do you really think he’ll keep listening to you?”

“Try me.” you hiss. Bucky smirks at that challenge, "Do you know the things he says to me while you're not around? Do you know all the sick and vile things he’s fantasized about?" he nears. Your brows furrow at his accusation. Not your Stevie. He would never. Bucky raises a brow, "Maybe we could play that favorite game of yours...Sleeping Beauty." smiling at the look of terror on your face. He knows that you and Steve have been experimenting in the bedroom.

“Hey Steve!” he hollers for the other super soldier. Steve jostles from his rest. He’s in the room in a matter of seconds, "What's wrong?" his voice is hoarse from the nap. Bucky waves to his friend, "I just wanted to say goodnight to you and the Mrs." he gives you a wink. Steve's brows furrow, "Honey what's wrong?" tilting his head, the light capturing his features in an angelic way.

You can't help but soften at the sight of those soft blues. This argument wasn't worth ruining the rest of your night. You roll your eyes, "Nothing..." shrugging it off. But if only it were that simple. Steve looks at the time and hisses, "You should stay for the night Buck." he insists, "We have a spare bedroom available upstairs."

You couldn't believe him. You marched upstairs and slam the door. It was one thing for him to be late for your anniversary, it was another bringing Bucky along, out of all people! You don't bother checking up on them. Instead preparing yourself for bed. Surely in the morning Steve would wake up and regret his actions. He stumbles into the room, already loosening his tie.

You spot his reflection in the vanity but pay no attention. Ignoring him would be a suitable punishment. You decide to lay further away from his side of the bed, occupied with a book in hand. Yes you still love him, with all your heart, but right now his excuses weren't worth your energy tonight.

Steve knows your upset, he could feel it seeping through your pores. He sighs, "I'm sorry. I should've remembered it was today, and I know that isn't an excuse but...let me make it up to you..." Steve loosens his tie. It's been a long, hectic day, filled with countless meetings. All he wants to do now is spoil his wife.

He sits on the edge of the bed, holding your feet in his hands, kneading small circles along the curve. You stifle a moan. By now Steve knows your body too well. "What are you in the mood for, dear?" His super hearing picks up the sound of your closing your book. He smiles when he hears a faint whisper,

"...Sleeping beauty." you mumble.

Steve smirks, "Smart choice." he slides down his pants, letting them fall as he palms his girth. You eye him eagerly, already dripping with desire. Of course you couldn't say no to a little spoiling, placing your book carefully on the nightstand. You shimmy off your gown. Wearing only your undergarments as you reposition your body. You toss a few pillows off the bed, making room for your limbs to stretch. Laying back on the soft pillows as you closed your eyes and pretend to sleep. Steve crouches from above, palming his manhood through his briefs.

Tonight, you would play the role of an unconscious maiden, unaware of her being taken advantage of. An act that Steve had grown fond of. Your husband was nothing less than a gentleman. He could never stomach the idea of taking advantage of a helpless woman. At least not while she’s aware. So, playing out this fantasy had been more than enough to satisfy his certain urges. Well, almost enough.

A thumb presses against your bottom lip, parting your mouth slightly. He could feel your soft breaths. He dips his tongue deep inside, enjoying the taste of it. He retreats with a satisfied hum as he smacks his pink lips. He nips and suckles the side of your neck, creating a trail to the curve of your chest. He pulls down your bralette, nipping and suckling the buds until they’ve peaked. He couldn’t hold it in any longer.

You felt the sensation of his gentle touches. Steve’s embrace had always felt soothing, calming and oh-so delightful. Part of you fought the urge to pounce on him right then and there. But you knew the reward after would be worth it. Patience was key. Everything was going at an easy pace. You suddenly felt the wiring of your bra snap open, exposing your breasts to the cool air. You shiver but remain still. This was unlike Steve, perhaps it was liquid courage?

A rough hand reaches for the waistband of your panties, yanking the garment down. A calloused hand parts your legs roughly to expose your womanhood. His finger pads are rough as they rub at your slit. Part of you bit back a whine as they attempt to collect any wetness. Then the sound of him spitting on it shocks you. That was new. Again, the fingers return, this time coating the slit with more saliva. As rough finger pads trace your bundle of nerves the sensation of teeth nipping at each breast.

He plunges his digits deep into your channel. A faint whine escapes your throat. Almost writhing in pleasure from the stretch. Your hips jerk up instinctively. He pulls them out to press your hips down. Then begins pumping them at a rough pace. It takes everything in you to control your breathing. This was an entirely new side to Steve, and you love it.

He notices the muscle tightening around his digits and swiftly pulls out. He rubs up and down your slit before making circles around your clit. You jerk your hips up again, which led to him cupping your mound with a harsh slap. He stokes at your folds before giving another smack. Then another, before sliding his fingers back in.

At this point you’re drunk on pleasure. You’ll do anything to cum and he knows it. He lifts a leg over his shoulders to give a full view. He begins to pump his digits to a vigorous pace. Knowing very well what he was doing. His long fingers find that sweet spot inside you. Again, he made you chase for your orgasm before denying it.

He flips you over, gripping the back of your head as he pushes it against the bed. He retrieves a pillow and places it against your underbelly. Before you've had a chance to adjust, he's already pushing in. Steve has never taken you in this position before. His length felt...different. He felt much more thicker, to the point where it was almost unbearable, almost.

You squeal into the pillow. Toes curling as he held an arm around your torso. He thrusts at a brutal pace. Your eyes roll back as he took what he wanted. Smacking your rear every now and then to feel you clench around him. He doesn't slow down nor does he falter. He's dead set on cumming right there, right now.

He lifts his leg up and pushes in as deep as he could reach. He emptied his load, warm spurts coat your walls. Filling your womb to the brim. He grunts from the sensation of it, licking the shell of your ear as he came. He backs up, letting part of his length remain inside, plugging you in.

His thumb presses against your rim. As if he were testing the waters. He collects your arousal, scooping up the slick before lathering it against your other hole. He inserts a digit in, watching you writhe in pleasure oh-so beautifully.

You felt something prodding against it. A familiar feeling. He pushes the small phallus in until it's end remains. You groan from the stretch. You don't know what it was exactly until he presses a button. It's faint buzzing has you sobbing with pleasure. You were going to tell Stevie about the vibrator, eventually. But now he was just being cruel.

He slams his length back into you. Gripping your hips hard enough to hurt. One of his hands has felt stronger than the other. As he thrusts his hips back and fourth, you lose the strength to hold your position and fall forward. He continues to plunge at a brutal pace, deepening his strokes until climaxing yet again. You were in sheer bliss. Almost passing out with pleasure.

He finally flips you over to take a good look. You fight the urge to keep your eyes shut. You've been waiting for this moment and he knows exactly what to do. There’s only one way to wake sleeping beauty up: A True love's kiss. And if there’s one thing Steve loved more than anything else, it's watching his best friend cuckhold his wife.

Steve has to bite his lips to stifle the moan escaping. His eyes are hooded with lust. He delves his tongue deep into your abused channel, latching his lips on your mound as he tastes his friend's spent. He rolls his eyes back, savoring the moment with a hum. You whine from the sensation of it.

His moans send a vibration throughout your slit. It takes every muscle in your body not to cum right then and there. Steve muffles his face against your womanhood. Moving his head from side to side as he brushes his nose against your clit. He engulfs the erotic scene in front of him. Savoring every last drop. Almost losing himself in the process. When he retreats he confesses, “You were right Buck, this was a great idea.”

Your eyes shoot open when he says those words. Steve lifts your legs up as he drags you to the end of the bed. His fingers dig into your soft flesh as he pulls you towards him. He rubs his tip against your now drenched opening, looking you dead in the eyes as he gave a command, “Look at me.” he grips your jaw in a firm grasp, growling in your face, “You look at your husband when he's speaking to you."

Bucky can't help but smirk. He taught him well. Maybe that'll keep you from running your mouth. He retreats to the kitchen where the unopened champagne bottle was left. When he returns you're a blubbering mess. He pops the cork off, tilting the bottle over Steve's head. His friend tilts his head back, opening his mouth to capture the liquid. Bucky pours the rest onto your naked bodies. Lapping the drink from your skin.

Bucky lays right next to you as Steve lifts your body. He sits you in his friend's lap. Your eyes are shut, head bowing with shame. Until you feel Bucky's girth pressing against your rear. They shoot open as you began pleading with him, begging for Steve to make him stop. Your husband only chuckles at your measly attempt to escape.

He smiles when he sees you taking his best friend. As if Bucky were made for you. He sighs with adoration, "Thanks for the anniversary gift Buck, I should’ve done this a long time ago," Steve rasps. His friend matches his pace, “Knew you’d like it.” Bucky moans, grunting as you took both of them in.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

Hi! Hope this is ok and got a nsfw idea

What if werewolf steve x vampire reader x vampire bucky

Y/n was all alone ending up entering their turf. They dont wanna end her noo . They wanna keep her as their mate

a/n: you sent this yumminess to me last night literally minutes before i fell asleep, then i couldn't stop thinking about it so i wrote it while eating breakfast lol

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

“Oh, honey…” you heard Bucky purr as he teasingly let his fangs graze across your neck, “I’m older and thereby stronger than you,” his cock throbbed against your bottom as he kept his hold tight, holding your wiggling frame up far above the ground, your back against his chest and keeping you in place for the lycanthrope before you, “so you might as well just stop struggling.”

Slick symphonies accompanied Steve’s movements as he attempted to stuff the big knot at the base of his already intimidating length inside your cunt. Each thrust of his hips gradually grew harsher as he tried needlessly to plug it inside, though still without success, your pussy only drooling from his ruthless efforts though still not able to let that part of him into your warmth. 

“Or not,” Steve then smirked as he lowered his fingers to smear more of your messy cream against his bulbous base he so fiercely desired to feel inside of you, “I think it’s kinda fun watching you try.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[huffelpuff210]

The Deal part 2 Soft Dark Mob boss Stucky x Reader

You were currently laying in your bed, in your small home, that you knew you were gonna have to give up, 

Steve and Bucky were very clear, and you didn’t have much of a choice, 

You were to be their girl, in exchange, you give up your home, they said you were going to live with them, 

They said you were to marry them within two weeks, and if you ran  they would find you and you wouldn’t like how they would get you to comply,  you still didn’t completely understand why they had their sights set on you, 

There were plenty of women out there they could have right?

you heard a knock on your bedroom door, 

“Hey, I’m going out.” Andy says

You look at the clock, it was three in the morning, 

“Just don’t get in trouble.” You say 

“Like you can tell me what to do.” He sneers leaving the room

You sigh turning on your side, 

it doesn’t surprise you how your brother treats you, your family treated you the same way why should your older brother be any different, why should the men you have been forced into a corner just because of your brother be any different, 

The next morning you are sitting at the island with your coffee, you were about to head out when your brother walks in covered in bruises and blood 

he storms over to you 

“What did you do?!” He yells cornering you 

“What are you talking about?” You ask in a dull tone that is so rehearsed since this has happened many times, he goes on his binges then comes home high or drunk, he is gripping both of your arms so tightly,

“Steve and Bucky! they own this town! they-” He began but suddenly a voice cuts him off, 

“Now that’s no way to treat a lady.” You hear a familiar voice that sent goosebumps up your spine, 

You look past your brother to see Steve and Bucky standing there in their handsome suits, arms crossed, 

Your brother lets go of you he spins on his heel, 

“Get the fuck out of my house!” Your brother yells, 

Both Steve and Bucky chuckle 

“Last time we checked, this isn’t your house.” Steve says 

“Yeah, her name is on the deed, not yours.” Bucky says

“And since we own her now thanks to you, this is our house as well.” Bucky says 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Your brother asked in a seething tone, 

“You see your dear sister, was so worried for your safety that she signed a contract with us.” Steve says 

Yes you signed a contract agreeing to all the terms, as long as they don’t cause you any sort of harm, which they agreed to, you couldn’t run away, you had to do as they said, you were to marry them, have their children, in exchange they would give you everything you ever wanted, provide you with comfort and security, keep you safe, 

“Y/N come over here.” Bucky’s deep voice broke you out of your thoughts 

just as you were about to take the first step your brother grabbed you by the upper arm, 

“She’s not going anywhere with you two!” Your brother yelled, 

You sighed in annoyance 

“You know they could kill you right?” you said 

they both chuckled at your comment

“Shut up.” He says to you

Steve sighs in annoyance, 

“Sam take care of him, he’s too ignorant to understand,” Steve says 

Suddenly my brother is yanked back and pistol whipped, 

“Come here kitten.” Bucky says using  his finger as if calling a puppy, you walk towards them, Steve checks the now forming bruises on your arms, and growls, 

“It’s fine.” You say, 

They both look at one another, 

“We were gonna wait until tomorrow to come get you, but as soon as we seen your big brother starting trouble that you were going to have to clean up we decided it was in your best interest that we have a word with him, and stop by to pick you up anyway.” Steve says inspecting if you were hurt any were else

“It seems he never learns.” Bucky grumbles

“It’s fine I’ve seen worse at work.” You say 

They both chuckle at your comment, 

“Speaking of we thought it would be best if you just quit that job,we’ve got a better position for you anyway.” Bucky says 

“What?” You asked 

They both smirked at your reaction. 

“Besides we can’t have our girl killing herself at a dead beet job that doesn’t appreciate her.” Steve says his hand on your cheek as his thumb pulls your lower lip down, 

“Lets go kitten.” Bucky says guiding you out of the home 

[marvelvillian23]

Any Dark Steve or Dark Buck fic recs? I’m talking dark dark like close to, if not altogether dead dove. Multiple chapters please.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"The Taste of You"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: Fresh AU, dark rom-com, dark!Bucky, pre-serum Steve, cannibalism, kidnapping, yandere/basement wife, meet cute-ish, gay sex n' stuff, dub-con

Summary: Steve is so tired of the meat market that modern dating has become. Just when he's deleted all the apps and given up on ever finding Mr. Right, he meets the perfect guy at the grocery store.

A dark, cute, funny, fucked up, and very tasty love story.

A.N.: It's not as murdery as it sounds 😅 But, as per usual: minors DNI. It's a Fresh AU. "If you can't handle the cannibalism, get out of the kitchen"--or something like that

1. Specialty Ingredients

Steve watches, mouth literally hanging open, as it happens again: his date is stomping away, mad.

He just called Steve a scrawny, cock-teasing twink for making out a little on the sidewalk, but then declining to go back to his place to hook up. The guy pressed the issue and Steve got frustrated and told him tersely that he wasn't interested because they just met, okay? That went over like a lead balloon.

Steve scowls as the jerk disappears around the corner at the end of the block. “Well fuck you too,” he mutters, feeling put out—and okay, a little hurt, too. He’s not a cocktease. He’s not scrawny.

Well, maybe that second one is kind of true, but Steve hates how guys will act like they’re into his small stature when they think he’s a sure thing, but then get all derogatory and mean about it once he tries to tell them he’s looking for more than a hookup and wants to take it slow—and not even hetero people slow; gay guy slow, which is super fast in comparison! Steve just wants to get to know a guy for once before sleeping with him. Is that really so bad?

He huffs and turns around, walking dejectedly back to his car. Another handsome asshole, another hope dashed, another pathetic date. He really does have the worst luck, and he’s getting plain sick of it. He checks his phone before he drives away.

Clint: Well???

Steve sighs. He types back a reply to his friend

Steve: another dud

Clint: dude …

Steve rolls his eyes and chucks the phone onto the passenger seat. He turns the key in the ignition, the radio coming on to an old eighties love ballad that just worsens his sense of dejection. “Fucking figures,” he mutters, putting the car into drive.

He leaves the song playing though, because sometimes wallowing is called for.

The next morning, Steve wakes up in a glum mood. He tries to focus on his work for most of the day, rather than his horrible luck with dating, but as he paints the hours away he winds up pouting about it anyhow. He sinks further and further into a depressing pit of self-pity and despair.

Clint texts him, asking if he wants to go out and sing karaoke or something, and Steve knows he’s just trying to cheer him up and all, but he really can’t stand the thought of being cheerful right now.

Steve hates gay guys, he thinks, stomping over to the crappy small sink in his crappy small apartment’s kitchen. He runs the water and rinses off his brushes with a vengeance they don’t deserve. Gay guys suck. Steve hates how shallow they all are, how vapid and self-centered. All they want is to go clubbing and fuck around and that’s it. None of them want a real relationship, and they think Steve is boring for wanting to have a meaningful conversation instead of suck their dicks right away. He gets grumpier about it the more he thinks, and he even has the thought that at least if he were straight he could find someone with feelings, a desire for genuine connection. “Gay guys suck,” he mutters to his poor, abused paint brushes.

Nevermind that Steve himself is incontrovertibly homosexual and has no choice in the matter of what his dating pool consists of. After all: ‘Haters gonna hate, players gonna play’. “Gaays gonna gay, gay, gay, gay, gay.” Steve sings the tune under his breath. He just hates it, hates it all. He’s sick and tired of playing the game.

He sends Natalie a nastily self-deprecating text:

Steve: Know any of your girlfriends who might want to date a faggot?

It’s not nice, and he knows she won’t like him using that word in that context.

Natalie Potential Rich!! Buyer: another douche huh?

He sighs and texts back an apology with a huggy emoji.

Steve: Sorry 🤗 Just frustrated. All the good ones are taken and I’m not interested in the skanks who’re left over.

Natalie responds with the “Give that man a Snickers” Diva-meme, which makes Steve realize that he is, in fact, hungry. He needs to get something to eat. He needs to focus on himself for a change. Maybe it’s finally time to stop looking for Mr. Right and just enjoy Steve Rogers. Maybe he should join a gym, start a new hobby, anything to fill up his time with himself rather than another person. 

He goes into the kitchen, thinking that he’ll make something yummy and binge watch a new series off his Netflix list, but scowls at the barren interior that greets him when he opens the fridge door. Nothing good to eat. “Fuck,” he mutters. He’s got to go to the grocery store now before he can sit down with a meal and relax.

And it’s raining outside, too. Just his fucking luck.

His phone ‘pings’ and he looks over at where he’d set it on the counter. The screen is lit up with a new notification from Grindr:

Henry super liked you!

He picks up the phone and opens the app. Henry’s profile pic is only from the neck down, showing off his abs. Steve rolls his eyes. The next picture is his lower half, a pair of tighty-whities stretched over his erection making it lewd, but still within the app’s no dick pic rules. The third pic is of his bare ass in a jockstrap.

Steve spends a second more than he intends appreciating the guy’s backside, but then he growls and jabs his finger at the screen to reject the guy. He’s fucking fed up with this entire thing! On a sudden, right-feeling whim, he exits the app and holds his finger down on the screen until all the icons start wiggling with their little x’s. He quickly proceeds to delete Grindr, Scruff, and Hornet from his phone.

He’s fucking done with dating. He’s giving up. Steve is just not meant to find Mr. Right. Not this year, anyway. He feels lighter after deleting the apps, and he slides his unburdened phone into his pocket with a sense of accomplishment and a shiny new idea: He’s not going to date for a whole year. He’s going to make this The Year of Steve.

Fuck yeah.

He goes to the hall closet to grab his umbrella and rain boots.

The walk to FreshMart is only four blocks from his apartment, but he still arrives at the grocery store a little damp from the gusting rain. He shakes off his umbrella by the door, grabs a basket, and directs himself towards the produce aisle. He’s added fingerling potatoes and some asparagus spears to his basket, and has just started perusing the meat section when he hears a man’s voice say, 

“Hey, have you ever had this?”

Steve looks over. The guy is holding up a package of bloody red … something. Steve blinks. “Um …”

The stranger twists his lips and shakes his head, looking at the meat. “It’s venison. I thought I’d freak my sister out with something a little different.”

“Your sister?” Steve asks, feeling very odd at being asked his opinion in the middle of the meat department. He looks between the package of raw meat and the stranger—He’s unusually handsome, tall and strong-jawed, brown hair styled in an effortlessly flattering cut. Steve licks his lips nervously. “Um, isn’t that like, deer meat?” He takes a step closer to peer down at the label. “Huh.” He didn’t know regular grocery stores sold that kind of thing. “That’s … exotic,” he says, for lack of a better word.

The stranger chuckles. “Yeah, well. I actually don’t eat animals, so …” he shrugs. “But her and her husband and kids are total carnivores. Thought I’d bring something other than my usual bottle of wine.”

“Oh.” Steve peers up at the man, trying to figure him out. The man smiles sheepishly and Steve winds up smiling, charmed, if somewhat baffled. He looks the man in the eyes and is taken by how pretty they are, how intense. Damn he’s good looking. “Well I, ah, couldn’t tell you what it tastes like. I’ve never had it.” He makes a face. “Like I said, it’s exotic.”

“Oh I love to cook with exotic ingredients. I’m kind of an amateur cuisinier. Or at least I try to be.”

“Oh. Right.” Steve gestures to the blood package. “But you ah … you don’t cook only vegetarian stuff?”

The man grins (and shoot, he’s got an unfairly attractive smile, too). “I guess I just like to satisfy other people’s appetites,” he says, lips parted enticingly. And then his tongue darts out in this totally casual, should-be-illegal sort of way. “I take it you’re a meat eater,” he says knowingly.

Is that a double entendre? Steve thinks it might be a double entendre. Yes! he wants to scream. Yes! He is 1000% a meat eater. He gulps as the guy’s eyes flick down and back up his body in a heated onceover, and Steve may not always be the brightest bulb in the box, but he can tell when he’s being considered. Is this guy really flirting with him? Here? In the freaking grocery store? Is that even a real thing that happens, anymore? Steve flushes and pulls his shopping basket up higher in front of himself, like a shield. “I–I see,” he stammers. “Well … um … yeah.” God, he’s hopeless.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Venison’ll probably be … different.” He nods at the stranger, awkward and aware that the other man isn’t moving away. “Well. Good luck.” He turns and vacantly peruses the meats, pretending that he’s more invested in searching out the perfect porkchop than he really is. He hears the guy’s footsteps moving away.

“Fuck it,” the man says, and turns right back around. He takes a deep breath. “I like your boots.”

“What?”

The guy nods downwards. “Your rain boots. They’re really cute.”

Steve looks down at his feet. His rubber boots are pink and printed with the golden girls’ faces. He looks back up at the stranger, stunned. No straight guy on planet Earth would ever say such a thing. “Um. Thanks.”

The guy holds out his hand, friendly, like he’s not aware he’s acting weird as shit. “I’m James.”

Steve probably stares too long at the offered hand, before he hurries to shove the handles of his shopping basket up onto his one arm so that he can take the guy’s—James’—hand and shake it. It’s pleasantly large over his own hand. “Steve.”

James smiles. He’s arrestingly handsome when he doesn’t smile and Steve feels like an even weaker creature when he does. “Sorry,” James says, looking down shyly. “I uh, I don’t usually do this.”

“Do what?” Steve asks, keenly aware that he may just be about to be propositioned. He winces at the idea of having to turn down another good-looking jerk.

James tilts his head. “Would you …” He hesitates, eyes flicking up and over as a woman passes them. She turns and goes down the soda aisle. He looks back to Steve, distracted. “I was gonna be crazy and ask for your number,” he says, flushing. Steve doesn’t even get a chance to say anything before James is scrubbing his hand over his embarrassed face. “Fuck, I’m sorry. You’re probably not even—” He looks back to the soda aisle where the woman had gone. “Sorry,” he mumbles again, and starts to walk away. “Human disaster in the meat aisle. Just ignore me, please.”

“Wait!” Steve blurts. James turns back around. “Why do you want my number? Were you gonna ask me out? Like on a date?” He uses the word purposefully.

“Well, yeah.” James looks apologetic. “Sorry. I know it’s weird.”

It is weird. But Steve is kind of charmed by the guy’s odd methods. He promptly pushes away his resolution of The Year of Steve. “James,” he says, taking a step closer. “Um, you can. Have my number.” He peeks up at him shyly. “If you want.”

James' happy-surprised-enthused smile is the best one yet. They exchange numbers.

Clint: Wait, wat do you mean, the grocery store??

Steve: he came over and just started talking to me.

Clint: … that’s weird, man. That’s shady.

Steve: actually it was kind of cute. Kind of idk old fashioned.

Clint: Kind of weird. Whats his Insta?

Steve doesn’t hear from James for almost three days. He alternates between finding it refreshing, and being disappointed. Maybe Clint’s right. Maybe the guy was just a weirdo.

Then, on the third day, Steve is leaving from his morning shift at Michaels when he hears his phone ‘ping’ with a notification. When he sees the name “Weird Meat Guy” on the screen, his face splits in a grin.

Weird Meat Guy: Been thinking about you since the other day.

Happy butterflies come to life in Steve’s stomach at the flirtatious tone of the text. His first instinct is to force himself to ignore it for at least thirty minutes, so that he doesn’t seem overeager. But then he thinks, fuck it, just like James had said in the grocery store before turning right back around to ask him out.

Steve types a reply.

Steve: hey stranger. Yeah I was wondering how that venison worked out for you. 😂What’s it taste like?

Weird Meat Guy: I don’t eat animals, not even for my sister’s Sunday dinners. But she said it was fine. Not as good as regular old cow, though🐄🥩

Steve: not surprising.

There’s a bit of a pause where he can see James is typing and deleting and typing again. Then,

Weird Meat Guy: Do you want to go out tonight? We could grab drinks or something?

Steve bites his lip, bad memories of “casual” meetups and “just grabbing drinks” dates and what they’ve always led to, in the past.

Steve: let’s go out to eat. At a restaurant or something. A real date.

James texts back almost immediately, and his answer makes Steve beam like a fool.

Weird Meat Guy: Hell yeah. What’s your favorite kind of food?

Steve can’t help it; he has a good-verging-on-great feeling about this guy. He tries to tuck away his expectations that this time it’ll be different. He can still do The Year of Steve if or when this goes wrong. He’ll just try this one last time though. Just once more before he swears off being a “meat eater” for the year.

He tells James that he really likes Italian food, and the next thing he knows, James is sending him the link to a really nice and expensive Italian place in Brooklyn. Steve thrills at James' enthusiasm, and grimaces at the three dollar signs that Google has lined up beside the restaurant’s name.

He tells James okay, figures he’ll just tighten up his budget a bit for a few weeks after.

James meets him inside the restaurant, at the bar. He’s already got a drink in his hand. “It’s an old fashioned,” he tells him sheepishly. “Sorry to start without you.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“I just get a little nervous when I ask a cute guy out to dinner.”

Steve freezes, but then his mouth twitches. “Oh,” he says. “You, ah … you think I’m cute, huh?”

James grins and winks at him in a way that is devastating and should-not-be-allowed. “Yeah. I sure do.”

Steve is charmed.

The hostess seats them in a dark and cozy booth in the back of the restaurant. Steve settles in and looks around, impressed. “This is a really nice place,” he says, genuinely meaning it but also kind of anxious to open his menu and get a look at whatever prices garnered a $$$ on Google.

“Yeah it’s one of my favorites.” James is grinning at him from across the table. “I was so glad you picked Italian, cause then I knew I had the perfect place to bring you.”

Bring you. Steve looks down and tries not to smile too obviously at the words. “I like it so far,” he says, peeking up coyly at James so that he knows Steve doesn’t just mean the restaurant.

James seems to get it, if his expression is anything to go by.

They open their menus and Steve’s stomach drops at the forty dollar appetizers. Shit. He wishes he’d found a way to mention to James that he’s kind of a starving artist.

“Do you like mushrooms?” James asks, oblivious to Steve’s internal panic. He’s looking across the table at him with eager eyes. “They’ve got the best stuffed mushrooms I’ve ever had. I think they put crack in ‘em.”

Steve laughs despite himself, then decides ‘fuck it’ once again, and closes his menu with a nod. “Sure,” he says. “Let’s do it.” He’ll live frugally for a month if he has to.

James orders them the appetizer and an entire bottle of wine that he knows by its specific name and year. All Steve makes out is the “‘94 ” part of it, and his heart rate picks up. He’s about to really worry about how the hell much a place like this is going to charge for an entire bottle of wine that’s older than he is, but then when the server delivers it and pours for them, James shoots him a wink and tells him, “S’my treat.”

Oh. Steve’s heart flutters as much at the gentlemanly gesture as it does at the possibility that maybe James will pay for the whole meal. A guy can dream.

The mushrooms arrive and Steve gushes to James about how he was right: they are amazing. They get to talking, covering the standard ‘first date’ questions, and it’s stupid and awkward like it always is; but also it isn’t, because James seems to laugh about the awkwardness of it, too. And that makes it kind of fun.

James is thirty-seven to Steve’s twenty-seven (Daddy kink: activated). He has a place in Manhattan but his sister lives in Brooklyn, which is why he was shopping at the FreshMart in Steve’s neck of the woods the other day. He’s got one parent still living, grew up with a loving family but “pretty poor” in Jersey. He hasn’t been in a relationship or even been on a date in “a really long time.” He wants to travel more but he lets his work consume him too much. He doesn’t eat animals.

He’s also really good at making the whole first-date interrogation-phase go smoothly. It’s fun with him, Steve realizes, not awful and strained like it usually would be. Their conversation just seems to flow naturally and easily, both of them smiling almost continually as they chat and joke.

Steve is utterly charmed.

“Okay,” James says, as he pops another mushroom into his mouth and then talks around it. “I’ll do another boring one: what do you do for work?”

Steve gulps and delays answering by taking a sip of the wine—a red that downright tastes expensive. “Um, well my passion is my art. It’s what I went to school for.” He tucks his lips in and shrugs. “But, ya know, ‘starving artists,’ and all that. So I work part time at Michaels, too.”

James doesn’t look like he’s thinking that Steve’s a stereotype or a loser or anything like that. “That’s awesome!” he says, sounding like he genuinely means it. “What kind of art? Or like, what medium do you work with?”

Steve blinks. Nobody ever asks him good questions like this, like they actually care and want to dig deeper into who he really is. “Um, mostly acrylics. Some watercolors and pencil-charcoal sketching,” he says, flustering at the way that James pays such close attention to his answers. “I like to mix it up sometimes, but mostly it’s those three.” He shrugs. “I sell online. I have one really loyal patron—she keeps me afloat. S’nothing that special.”

“Sounds like you know your stuff,” James counters, not letting him insist on his own mediocrity. “If you went to school for it and all, then you must be pretty good. Don’t you have to, like, audition for art school?”

Steve blushes and looks away. “Well. Yeah.”

“And I bet you get all your supplies cheap with the side gig, huh?”

Steve stares at him. “Yeah,” he says, impressed. “Employee discount.”

James nods sagely, as if he’s ever had to worry in his life about the utility of an employee discount. He might’ve grown up poor, but he’s clearly well-off now. Steve can tell that the suit he’s wearing is a custom tailored deal, and the wine he’s ordered for the table has a bouquet of oak and dollar bills. “I think it’s really brave of you,” he’s telling Steve, looking like he admires him or something ridiculous like that. “That you’re following a passion like that? That you can just …” he makes a shaping gesture over the table with his hands, “make something with your own two hands and then sell it? That’s incredible.”

The more James talks, the more Steve gets his hopes up that he might actually be A Really Great Guy™️. Steve can hardly stand to take all the compliments, so he turns the question back around on James: “What about you? What do you do for work?”

James hesitates. “... I’m a surgeon.”

Steve’s eyes go wide and his mouth drops open, making him look like A Gold Digger™️, probably. He closes his mouth. “Oh. Wow, that’s … that’s neat. Medical school, then, huh?”

James smiles through a wince, as if being a freaking doctor is no big deal. “Yeah. It was rough for a few years, but I got through it. I’m in a good place now. It’s pretty smooth sailing.”

“So do you work at like a hospital or something?”

“Not exactly.” He stares at him for a long moment, then suddenly says, “Gosh, I’m just really attracted to you, Steve.” Steve blinks, taken-aback. He reaches for a hurried sip of his wine and tries to think of a response to the weird shift in conversation. “Sorry,” James hurries. “I just felt like I had to say it.” He gives Steve a tender look rather than a lecherous one, which is a welcome change from the usual script. “I think I might really like you.”

Steve flusters and averts his eyes to the tabletop, peeking back up at James a few times. The guy is totally focused on him. It’s intimidating, but not in a bad way. “Yeah,” Steve eventually manages to murmur. “Yeah I think you might be nice.”

James teases him about the ‘nice’, and they fall into easy banter again as they finish the mushrooms and open up their menus to choose their entrees. Steve’s once again fixated on the prices, and he immediately starts trying to see if there’s anything under sixty dollars …

“By the way,” James says casually, not looking up from where he’s reading his menu. “I know this place is fucking ridiculous: I got it covered.”

He says it all easy and nonchalant, like it’s no big deal that he’s treating Steve to what’s probably a three hundred dollar dinner, and Steve once again feels like he’s on a date with a hero, a real gentleman. “Kay,” he says smally, feeling delighted and hopeful as heck on the inside. 

He orders a seafood linguini, and James gets a spinach and cheese tortellini dish. “This is so good,” Steve practically moans around a mouthful of his food. 

James makes a noise of agreement, stuffing another tortellini shell in his mouth. “Mmph.”

“So you really don’t eat any meat?” Steve winds up asking. “Like, not even fish or chicken or anything?” Where does he get his protein? James looks like he keeps in good shape …

James chuckles. “Nope. Haven’t touched the stuff for … gosh, almost fifteen years.”

“Wow.” Steve spears up another shrimp from his pasta and wonders if it offends James. “So like, is it an ethical thing or just …”

“No, no. I just kind of had this epiphany one day—while I was tenderizing a thigh, mind you—that all the things I was eating were living creatures, that we’re animals just like they are.” He makes a thoughtful face as he considers it. “It’s not a moral viewpoint so much as it is a …” he trails off and his eyes return to Steve with an apologetic shrug. “I dunno. My viewpoint shifted that day. Couldn’t shift it back. I’ve tried so many other things now, animal meat just doesn’t taste the same anymore.”

“I can respect that.” Steve wiggles his fork that’s speared with a juicy scallop. “As long as you don’t mind this.” 

“No, no way. Don’t you remember where we met?”

Steve snickers. “Oh yeah, how could I forget. What was it you said? You like to ‘satisfy other people’s appetites’?” He chances a flirty look across the table. “Wasn’t that how you put it?”

James chews, smirking, and he winks at Steve again. Goddamn. “Yeah,” he says lowly. “Yeah. I sure do.”

On the sidewalk outside the restaurant they stand close together, bundled in their jackets. Neither one of them seems to want to leave. “Thanks again,” Steve says. “For dinner. It was really nice.”

“My pleasure.” James takes a step closer, so that they’re almost toe to toe. “I was so excited to go out with you,” he says. He brings a hand up and traces the side of Steve’s face with the backs of his fingers, not looking at Steve’s eyes but rather where he’s touching his cheek. “You’re different,” he murmurs. "And I knew it the moment I met you."

Wow, what a fucking intense thing to say. Steve … doesn’t hate it. “I am?” he whispers, watching his breath swirl on the air between their faces.

“Mmhm. I can tell.” 

Steve shivers and fights the urge to press into James’ touch on his cheek. It feels unduly intimate, and they’re already so close. “I was excited for tonight, too,” he confides. “I’ve had a lot of bad luck with dating. Was getting sick of trying, to be honest.”

“But?” James asks softly, and Steve looks up at him, for once feeling open and honest enough to just admit,

“But I didn’t meet you on some app. And you liked my stupid Golden Girls boots.” James chuckles and Steve looks up, taking in his face up close: the dimple in his chin, the creases of age that’ve barely begun to collect at the corners of his eyes, that one tiny patch of grey in his beard. It makes him all the more insufferably handsome. “And you’re charming,” he whispers. “So there’s that.”

James smiles softly. “Aw, shucks.”

“I think you’re a really nice guy, James. I’d like to see you again.”

James' smile widens hopefully. “Yeah?” he says, leaning even closer.

“Yeah. I think, well … I just think …”

“What?” James touches his face again, this time palming his cheek. “Tell me.”

“Oh, it’s nothin’.” Steve finally lets his eyes slip closed, enjoying the feeling of James’ hand on his skin, the cologne he gets a whiff of when they’re standing this close. “You smell nice.”

“Thank you. Still haven’t told me what you were gonna say.”

Steve smiles sadly. “Oh, I’m just getting my hopes up about you, is all.” He’s still got his eyes closed when James kisses him. He inhales sharply through his nose, surprised. But he doesn’t pull away, and they just … keep kissing.

Eventually James cups his face with both hands and Steve moans, because the way James is kissing him feels so natural and good. He feels like he can taste James' good intentions as they make out softly, right there on the sidewalk.

When they part they’re both panting a little, heavy-lidded eyes flicking over one another, gauging, desire tinged with uncertainty. “That was …” James breathes.

“Yeah,” Steve says, and they both stare at each other for another long moment, before Steve says, “Fuck it,” and surges in to grab James by his jacket and kiss him again, this time harder. James whimpers needily into his mouth, and heat shoots through Steve’s belly at hearing it, arousal flaring to life faster than he can handle. Suddenly his pants feel a little tight, and he wants James so badly he can hardly stand it. “Oh man,” he groans, pulling away from the kiss, grimacing at himself for what he’s about to say. “I really, really never do this,” he promises against James' lips. “But … Do you want to go back to my place?”

James' eyes widen. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Fuck. Yeah, okay.”

They kiss eagerly one more time and then hurry off, giddy, hands clasped, and headed in the direction where James says he’s parked his car.

Masterlist

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[steves-sub]

hey sluts ;)

okay so basically I’m going to combine every single one of my kinks into one whole series called The Runaways Slut (maybe a different title idk help me out)

Premise is After Civil War, Team Cap is currently hiding from the world. Steve, Nat, Bucky, Sam, and Wanda are staying in a secluded cabin in the woods. While on a grocery run, Steve spots you and he knows the team has to have you. And they will one way or another.

This fic is going to be a huge Dark!Team Cap fic. Warnings I can think of for sure is Dom/Sub dynamtic, kidnapping, hypnotism (Wanda coming through with my favorite kink; please don’t judge it’s hot), drugging, and loads of smut. If you have any suggestions or wants a certain link in there shoot me an ask. I really hope you guys enjoy this!!

[smutconnoisseur]

Legendary Outlaw

Pairing ⊵ Dark!Beta!Sheriff!Bucky Barnes x Outlaw!Alpha!Steve Rogers

Warnings ⊵ No Archive Warnings Apply

Rating ⊵ E

Word Count ⊵ 1.4k

Tags ⊵ AU: Wild West, Non- traditional ABO dynamics, Consensual non-consent, extreme Dubious consent, Alpha!Steve, Beta!Bucky, Knotting, Kinks, Bondage, Sexual roleplay, Power imbalance, inappropriate use of lassos, Come as lube, basically just filthy smut.

Summary ⊵ Steve is an outlaw, a good one, but an outlaw all the same. When he catches wind of a mating run in the area for Alphas to find a match, he risks more than his livelihood to participate.

What he doesn’t know is that across the valley, one crooked sheriff is counting on his attendance.

Square + Prompt Fills ⊵

Ⓞ⓶ + Hogtie | All Caps Bingo | Card # AC 1094 | All Caps Bingo Masterlist | @allcapsbingo

Ⓝ⓸ + Kink: Blindfolds | Stucky Bingo | Card # R40101 | Stucky Bingo Masterlist | @stuckybingo

Author's Note ⊵ Nothing too sinister, contrary to the theme.

Moodboard is my own | Ao3 Link | Masterlist | AO3

[rosyxcc]

I’m just curious. Where does it clarify that this is in fact Bucky and Steve RESCUING the reader from being kidnapped, and not being the ones who kidnap her? I’m just curious! I’m just wondering! I’M JUST CURIOUS! It’s a very innocent question! I’m just curious about what impression this was supposed to give! I’m talking to the author, and currently waiting for a reply after giving my reasoning, and I couldn’t resist saying this SOMEWHERE! To clarify: I did enjoy the fic, a lot, it was very nice, and it was a lot fluffier than I expected, and it was very sweet, and I did like it. HAVING SAID THAT. It was very definitely not what I expected. I feel duped. I liked it, but like, clarification? Maybe add a tag that says “rescued reader” or “rescue mission” or “saved from abuse” or “reader/JERK” or SOMETHING! Please? It would be nice.

… honestly the funniest part is that in the comments, I think the author thought I was upset about it being dark. Like, it sounded like they were thinking I was expecting something lighter because of the description, and didn’t see the tags, but no, I actually was expecting something much darker, and completely misinterpreted the description. I kinda feel bad for that author...