#posting this and running because aaaaaaah back on my bullshit

[space-pirate-alex]

Posting my little Steckle/OC moodboard because I like it

[daylighteclipsed]

“This is another reason most of future lost rights” May we hear your thoughts?

Now that I have officially finished watching the original Steven Universe series, I have many Thoughts about the continuation. Prepare for some detailed salty takes.

-- My biggest gripe is that Garnet, Pearl, and Amethyst lose pretty much all of the emotional intelligence they gain in the original series to maximize Steven’s suffering.

So like the gifset that prompted this ask for example, where Garnet realizes she’s hurt Steven with her future vision and apologizes? Makes her reaction in Future to realizing she hurt Steven again OOC. The OG series also teaches us and Steven that Garnet can’t see definites, because there’s so many possibilities, and the future’s always changing, and the future can always be changed. So her line about how there was no universe where Steven didn’t propose to Connie as her reason for why she didn’t try to stop him, is bullshit.

The Volleyball episode gives away that Steven is clearly not OK, and Pearl does nothing about it. Neurotic, mother hen, let’s make a plan Pearl does not ask Steven if he’s alright and makes 0 plans to train him to control his new alarming powers. Pearl, who now has a better sense of how trauma works because she has it herself, who we have seen in the OG series suspect Steven is dealing with some post traumatic stress after being taken to Homeworld and reach out to him about it, does not in Future reach out to him after he expresses blatant distress over having to deal with more of his mom’s problems. I’m supposed to believe this? Seriously?

And Amethyst? I think she’s the most obvious offender since a big part of her arc in the end of the OG series is emotional maturity.There’s a whole episode dedicated to her putting Steven’s feelings first. Acknowledging the pressure he’s been under and the shit that’s been dumped on him for years and the horror of finding out Rose was a Diamond which makes him a Diamond and recognizing that he’s not OK. He can’t be. Learning that Steven deals by distracting himself with other tasks and people. But sure when Amethyst notices Steven throwing himself into his work in Future, her response is just “When did you become such a prick?” Yeah. Totally sounds right.

There is a whole arc about these two emotionally connecting through their insecurities and the strength they find in having each other to relate to and rely on and confide in. It is one of my favorites in the entire story. And it is totally thrown out a window in Future. If no one else you’d think at least Amethyst would reach out to Steven in Future before he spirals, but no.

Literally it’s like the entire Gem trio’s emotionally sent back to square 1 and their perception’s lowered to 0, which is lower than it was to begin with, because it was the only way Future could work. Seriously, after Prickly Pair nobody tries to talk to Steven? Nobody insists they need to talk about what the fuck just happened? Nobody goes after Steven when he runs away, twice?! Once after crashing the van with his dad inside, in which he disappears for 3 whole days. Another time after talking about how they can’t help him anymore, which is really alarming! Then they all just let Steven go when he returns from Homeworld glowing with Diamond pupils?! are you kidding me, are you fUcking KidDing me am I supposed to believe they’re even his friends in Future what the fuck I hate this 

-- And framing everything like the Gems have never been there for Steven? Hate that too. There’s countless episodes in the OG series proving that’s not true. Steven himself says it’s not. At one point that’s what keeps him from literally falling from the sky.

“I just need something that makes me happy, something I can always depend on to cheer me up. My guys. They spent all night out here just to keep me company. No matter how much I mess up they’ll be there to help me.”

It’s the biggest reason why the Gems are foils to the Diamonds!

“Remember back when I was little and maybe kind of annoying, and I couldn’t come along on adventures? You guys would still drop everything to hang out with me.”

Garnet, Pearl, and Amethyst begin kind of oblivious and inattentive, but they don’t stay that way. They are always learning, and apologizing, and changing when they realize their behavior is harmful. To themselves, to the team as a whole, to strangers, to Steven. They do very early in the series start setting work aside to spend time with him. Together breakfast (which ends up meaning so much to Garnet that it becomes her wedding cake), mini golf, cards, board games, movies, the arcade, the amusement park. They’re Steven’s band in beach-a-palooza. They become, not only better caretakers, but his friends.

A team. For the main Crystal Gem quartet so much of the show is about them learning to become a team by learning to understand each other and helping each other grow, leading to a stunning display of teamwork in the finale with Garnet, Pearl, Amethyst, and Steven all fusing together into one kickass warrior, Obsidian. It’s so perfect that this didn’t, couldn’t, happen until the end, after all that development. It’s so satisfying.

-- Like I mentioned before, there’s no reason why the Gems, including the others like Peridot, Lapis, and Bismuth, wouldn’t try to help Steven learn to control his new powers in Future.

-- A lot of the, uh, conflicts Steven faces in Future also feel ignorant to the OG series.

Steven in future: i just feel like i can’t make mistakes in front of you guys and cant be honest cause its mean and i have to be nice and perfect :(

Steven in og series: oh geez I really messed up sorry guys; [feels like the worst Crystal Gem cause he’s always fucking up]; (Garnet: You’re making Pearl very upset) “IM very upset!“; “What Rose wanted--ARGH! What about what I want?! I’m sick of you always lying to me!”; “Home’s been awful! Here’s been awful! Everyone’s been acting awful too!”

Steven in future: idk how to be a friend to someone who’s not a miserable sad sack with no direction in life

Connie: hey what the fuck

What was the point of all the townie episodes if we’re going to act like Steven never connected with the human part of his life why would the og show bounce between gem eps and human eps if not to show how Steven connects with both worlds ad’g;ajfgjfagjLAFKJS

Steven in future: why didn’t my meddling advice work? this has never happened before. am i losing my touch. who am i

Og Steven, multiple times: aaAAAAAH I SHOULD NOT HAVE MEDDLED AND PUSHED I MADE THINGS WORSE

- Why wasn’t Mindful Education revisited? Steven’s a fusion technically, right, so if he’s feeling, you know, deeply conflicted about his 2 halves, doesn’t that mean he’s out of harmony? There’s a way for 2 halves of a fusion to communicate through meditation and address what’s causing the imbalance, but I guess that would’ve solved Steven’s problem too easily. That’s the only reason Connie’s kept out of Future for so long too, right? Ugh. Never mind the fact that Mindful Ed taught Steven that it’s really important to face upsetting thoughts and feelings and traumas before they tear him apart. But whatever! what ever

- God this isn’t even half of the issues I now have with Future, but I don’t want this post to be 8 miles longer than it already is. Basically I feel like Future does a disservice to the characters and story being told in the original series, which I am very fond of now. It reminds me of an OOC fanfiction. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

I really do not want to argue about this. It’s just my opinion. I’m kind of venting. If you agree, great. If you don’t, please keep scrolling. Thanks.

[spacesnail3000]

Brooklyn’s Sweetheart Chapter 10: Goody Two-Shoes Catholic Schoolgirl

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Chapter Summary: The boys like long walks on the beach, messy ice cream cones, expensive liquors, and, of course, public displays of affection (which is putting it mildly). Although that’s not her idea of a perfect date, she still wants to prove she can keep up. 

Word Count: 6,404

Warnings: Language, drinking, smut (noncon breathplay, dubcon public sex, fingering, some really intense stuff in this chapter, be warned!!!)

Masterlist / AO3

A/N: Aaaaaaah I posted this chapter last night and today when I tried to change a tag and reblog it, it broke the chapter!! How do I reblog things without breaking my posts??? I just hope I’m not making duplicates of this by posting again ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

“Here, baby, you got a little—” Steve reached his hand towards her face to wipe off a smear of chocolate syrup from the corner of her mouth, but she caught on too soon and her own thumb beat him there. A quick swipe of her finger and the chocolate was gone, and her thumb was in her mouth, sucking it off, wide innocent eyes flickering back and forth between Steve and Bucky.

Bucky didn’t realize he had groaned until Y/N was smirking at him with glossy pink lips, her ice cream cone melting in her hands. After dinner, they had walked around and finally decided on ice cream. That had altogether been a mistake for Steve and Bucky, because it allowed their girl to finally realize that she had just as much power to tease them in public as they did.

She felt much looser after Steve had secretly gotten her a gin of her own at the restaurant, and now she was settling back into their old dynamic with the added exception that they touched her much more than usual. The sexual tension was driving them all crazy.

They were both painfully hard in their jeans watching her lick creamy vanilla drops of melted ice cream off her waffle cone. At least they were sitting at a table outside the ice cream shop and the surrounding area was mostly deserted. 

“Seems like I’m winning the game, now,” she simpered, her mouth running quicker with the alcohol in her blood.

Bucky swallowed hard, because she was right, but he schooled himself and smirked at her. “In your dreams, sweetheart.”

Steve was a little more flustered and was having a harder time with her newfound confidence. “You don’t win the game. That’s not a thing. It’s rigged against you for a reason.”

Cocking an eyebrow, she glanced surreptitiously to their crotches, the prominent bulges confined by denim. “But I’m clearly winning.”

The waffle cone dropped to the ground with a sad crunch as Steve grabbed her arm and started pulling her in the direction of the car. “We’ll see how long that lasts when we get back to the house.”

Once they got back, Bucky leaned against the kitchen counter with their girl wrapped in his arms, hands wandering around her body as she squirmed. Meanwhile, Steve rooted through the liquor cabinet.

“How long of this can you take, doll?” Bucky whispered, breath hot against her ear. His hands trailed up her thighs, raising the hem of her skirt indecently high.

“Hey!” she whined, breathless, as he revealed her pussy, although of course nobody was there to see it except Steve, who glanced up from the liquor cabinet to leer at her before going back to his search. She had no idea what he was looking for, but he had told Bucky to keep her busy, so she suspected that he was taking a long time on purpose.

“Ah-ha!” Steve exclaimed, head emerging, a twenty-year-old bottle of cognac in his hands, while Bucky’s fingers skated over the juncture between her leg and pussy, the tips just grazing the outside of her labia before disappearing, and then she felt the soft fabric of her skirt against her once again.

“I like the way you think, Rogers,” Bucky said as Steve brandished the liquor bottle. His arms returned to her waist, and he squeezed her tight. The sound she made was in between a squeal and a giggle and it made Bucky’s stomach do a cartwheel. 

As Steve reached into the upper cabinets to take down three of her father’s brandy snifters, she said, “My dad got that for my mom for their fifteenth wedding anniversary.” 

“Your mom likes cognac?” Bucky was surprised. They usually saw her mother with a vodka soda—fewer calories, of course.

“No,” she laughed, “That’s why she left it here.” Steve snorted, pouring their glasses before handing one to each. “Here, I’ll teach you guys the proper way to drink it,” she said with a wiggle of her eyebrows. 

“There’s a proper way to drink cognac?” Bucky asked.

“There’s a proper way to drink all alcohol,” she answered with a roll of her eyes.

“Well go on then,” Steve said, nudging her with his elbow. “Teach us what you know.”

She held the glass with the palm of her hand cupping the rounded bottom. “Hold it like this so the heat from your hand warms up the cognac.” The boys followed her lead. “The way the top of the glass is narrow traps the aroma, so then you can smell it,” and she did, and the boys did too. She continued, “And you can make some kind of bullshit comment about how the oak note is most profound, and there’s a subtle fruity scent, and a spicy undertone like cinnamon or nutmeg. And then everyone thinks you’re really cultured but the truth is you’re just making everything up but nobody else knows enough about it to contradict you.”

Bucky snorted and ducked his head against her shoulder, and even Steve huffed a laugh. “Who taught you that? Your dad?”

“My dad’s that type of guy,” she confirmed, sipping the drink. “They’re both all into that high society stuff. I could tell you what meats go best with cognac, what cheeses to pair with it. How to make a good sidecar—I think we have Cointreau down there, actually.”

“I thought you never drank before,” Bucky said.

She shrugged, “My dad would let me have a little sip every now and then. That’s how you’re supposed to drink cognac, not chugging it like that,” she nodded to Steve how had been taking a long drink. Immediately he lowered the glass and glared at her.

“If you’re so cultured, what’re you doing here slumming it with us Brooklyn boys?” Bucky asked, squeezing her again with the arm he still had wrapped around her middle.

“Hey,” she whined, jabbing back at him with her elbow. “I’d prefer hanging out with you over going to one of my mom’s fancy dinner parties any day.” 

And it was true. Despite all that they had put her through over the past few days, she still cherished their friendship, and she still enjoyed hanging out with them—when they weren’t testing her physical boundaries, that is.

Even when they were, maybe she didn’t mind it as much as she let on. Or maybe she was only thinking that way because of the alcohol.

“Aww,” Bucky cooed teasingly, “Our girl’s such a sap, Stevie.”

“Both’a you are big saps,” Steve said, hiding his smile in his glass.

She rolled her eyes. “Why do I like you guys again?”

They continued their little banter, getting looser and looser as they finished their glasses. Bucky and Steve each had another glass, but she only got halfway through her second before Steve decided she had had enough.

Bucky’s hands continued roaming her body throughout, sometimes teasing her enough to distract her from whatever she was saying only for his hands to move back to innocent territory, leaving her wanting and needy and frustrated, although she wasn’t quite ready to speak up about it yet.

Truthfully, the alcohol was the only reason she wasn’t objecting to his touch as much as she usually would. Her brain, in its alcohol-induced haze, reasoned that she needed to pick her battles, that maybe she could relax for the night.

She just felt so good, like honey flowed through her body, and she relished the slow, sweet, stickiness—and oh boy, did her thighs feel sticky. It was almost distracting—but then again, everything was distracting. Was she drunk? Is this how being drunk felt?

“Let’s take a walk on the beach,” Bucky suggested, “It’s a nice night out.”

“Good idea,” Steve smirked at him and she easily agreed, inhibitions lowered. She leaned into their touch as they led her outside. Steve had one arm slung around her waist while Bucky held onto her hand, shoulders brushing.

Once they reached the sand, she kicked off her sandals with a giggle and left them at the back gate to the house. Bucky and Steve toed their shoes off, too, leaving three pairs waiting for them to get back. 

It was a quiet night, a crescent moon shining in the sky and sending barely enough light down to see in front of them. Stripes of silver reflected off the waves and the only sound was the hush of the water and their mild conversation, Y/N’s occasional giggles.

As they walked further down the beach and away from the house, Steve slipped his hand down, playing with the top of her skirt and then cupping her ass through the thin fabric. At first, she tensed again, but then relaxed when all he seemed content to do was touch her through her clothes, going no further for a long while. Steve’s touch had her feeling more apprehensive for some reason—maybe she was getting used to Bucky after the past few days. Maybe she would get used to Steve with time, too.

The cognac had hit her by then, and she had her own arm draped across Steve’s wide back for balance. Her mouth was running on its own as they talked about nonsense.

“I really like your tattoos,” she was saying.

“Well they’re all mob tattoos, sugar,” Steve said. His own tattoos included the one on his lower abdomen, the official seal of the mob across his chest, a large piece on his back with an eagle emerging from the sun, and a tribute to his mother on his arm—a custom design of a blue jay perched on a heart, surrounded by her favorite flowers: Queen Anne’s lace, hydrangeas, and gladiolus flowers. There were more, small and large, and she wondered how many there would be if she counted them.

Both he and Bucky had gotten a matching tattoo together, a black star on their bicep, to memorialize their brotherhood. Bucky had fewer tattoos than Steve, but he also had the seal of the mob, a traditional portrait of the Statue of Liberty on his other bicep, and a piece on his stomach that included a white wolf.

“That’s a lie,” she said, and her fingers skimmed over his right bicep where the tattoo for his mother was. Steve stiffened a little, not wanting to get into this conversation. She didn’t say anything about it though, and then her hand dropped, running down his chest, dipping up under the hem of his t-shirt and tickling across the BROOKLYN tattoo on his stomach. It was a bold move for her, but her brain didn’t question it, the alcohol controlling her actions now. His cock twitched at her touch and he squeezed her tighter, imagining her hands drifting lower.

Before he could do anything, her hand was gone and she was saying something else. “I think I’ll get a tattoo one day.”

Bucky snorted. “Yeah, right, sure you will.”

She smacked him in the arm but then he captured her hand in his again, placing a sweet kiss to her knuckles. “I will!”

“You’re a little goody two-shoes Catholic schoolgirl,” Bucky said, “You’re not gonna get a tattoo. Plus, you father would never let you.”

“I don’t need his permission. I’m 18.”

It was Steve’s turn to laugh. “Yes you do, sweetheart.”

“And I’m not that good!”

“You sing in the church choir,” Bucky said, “You’re literally an angel.”

 “I break the rules sometimes!”

“Oh yeah?” Steve asked, squeezing her ass tight. “What rules have you broken?”

She had to think about it. “One time I skipped class with Wanda and we went to Prospect Park and got ice cream.”

“What class?”

“…Okay, it was our free period. But we’re not supposed to leave campus during free period!”

“Oh, Stevie, I think she wants to be a bad girl. She’s trying so hard to prove herself.” She spluttered in response, not knowing the right thing to say. Because it wasn’t true—she didn’t want to be bad… She just wanted them to know she was capable of it. The alcohol made her want to match their debauchery, although she had never had the urge to before.

Steve turned to her, stopping her in her tracks. He pulled her closer and took her chin in his fingers. “You know when you break the rules, you get punished, sweetheart. You willing to accept the consequences?”

She frowned and said, “You only get punished if you get caught.”

“I’ll catch you every time.”

Lost in his intense gaze, the alcohol and her arousal dulling her brain function, she could only pout at him.

“C’mon,” he groped at her ass again and then swooped her up over his shoulder while she squealed. “Let’s get in the water.” He wanted to see her wet and shivering for him—ever since he saw her in that little white tank top, all he could think was how the fabric would look when it was soaked.

“What?” she cried, “No way! It’s too cold!” She hit at his back but before she knew it, he was tossing her into the ocean. The water wasn’t that high, but he set her down with enough force than she fell over onto her ass, a wave rushing over her suddenly. She shrieked at the feeling and then scrambled up. It was barely shin-deep, and the bottom of his pants were getting wet, but it was worth it to see her like this.

The fabric of her top was soaked through, clinging obscenely to her breasts, nipples clearly visible beneath. Her skirt was dripping wet and sticking to her hips. As Steve admired her, her anger was charging up, and then she came at him, hitting his chest with her little fists.

Her weak punches only made him laugh and he easily captured her wrists in his hands. “Sorry, baby,” he shrugged.

“No you’re not!” she yelled, struggling against him. “You’re such a jerk sometimes!” She was mad, but only a little. Truthfully, she was feeling so great that she didn’t really mind, nor did she realize how provocative her clothing had become.

He laughed at her feigned fury and held her back at his arm’s length, eyeing her body again—although she seemed almost oblivious to his wandering gaze. She only noticed when he spoke. “Look at you, doll.” His voice was almost a growl, low in his chest, rumbling through his body and to hers. She shivered as the wind swept by them, and her nipples pebbled in her top.

“Wow,” Bucky drawled, now stepping up next to them. He had rolled his jeans up so they wouldn’t get wet. “Lookin’ like a wet dream, sweetheart.”

She blushed and ducked her head, but Steve lifted her chin and kissed her deeply. This time, she didn’t pull away or struggle, she only gave into it, leaning into him and kissing him back tentatively. It helped that his body was so warm and she was freezing now, soaking wet. He dominated her mouth, the kiss, but she sank into the sensation, the anxiety that usually fueled her resistance quelled by the rush of alcohol through her veins.

On his tongue, she could taste cognac and peppermint and the Parliaments he smoked, and his lips were a little chapped, rough on her own. A shudder went through her and he wrapped her up in his arms. Bucky came up behind her and ran his large palms up and down her arms. Their warmth seeped into her, making her feel like she was melting against them like warm honey, every part of her going loose and limp. Wetness gathered between her thighs, only heightening her arousal, which had been simmering in her stomach all night.

Bucky’s hand snuck between their bodies and he cupped her sex fully in his hand, the only barrier between their skin being her skirt, the fabric still damp with seawater. She moaned into Steve’s mouth and he brought his own hands down to grab her ass, pulling her body further into Bucky’s hand.

“Oh,” she groaned at the delicious pressure, allowing Steve to grind her hips against the hand.

“Soaking through your skirt, baby doll,” Bucky growled into her neck. His hand bypassed her skirt and then it was on her heated skin, and she mewled from the dizzying sensation. While he palmed at her clit, his fingers slipped through her folds, needlessly spreading her wetness—she had already dripped halfway down her thighs. “Stevie, she’s so wet for us,” he moaned against her shoulder, easily slipping one finger into her cunt.

Steve broke the kiss, and she turned her head to gasp at the barrage of arousal sweeping through her. Chuckling against her cheek, Steve muttered, “I’m sure she is. Her nipples have been hard since we were at the restaurant—seems like she liked our teasing more than she let on.”

“Is that true, darling?”

“No.” Shaking her head, eyes shut, her head lolling back onto Bucky’s shoulder. “It’s not true.” But her pussy contracted against his finger and when he slid another in, she clutched at Steve’s arms, crying out breathily.

“Stop lying to us,” Steve grunted against her neck, pressing slick kisses along her skin. She smelled like lavender and oranges and vanilla, the new perfume she wore sinking into her damp skin, the wetness and the heat between their bodies amplifying the scent. “Stop lying to yourself.” He pressed her down harder onto Bucky’s hand and the tips of his fingers pressed into places so deep, places that had never been touched before.

She keened and panted, then collected her wits and said, “’m not lying.”

Immediately, suddenly, Bucky pulled his fingers out and smacked her pussy twice, hard, causing her to cry out and lurch forward. She collided with Steve’s chest and stumbled, but he steadied her before she fell. “Good girls don’t lie, baby,” Bucky growled, biting down hard on her shoulder. “Do they?”

She shook her head, but whether it was at his question, or at the notion that she was lying, or at him denying her pleasure just as she was about to come, was anybody’s guess.

Then Steve’s hands were working at Bucky’s fly. “Bucky’s gonna fuck you, baby doll, and you’re gonna come so hard for him, as many times as I say, until—”

“Wait!” she gasped, some of her senses coming back to her suddenly as she reminded her own drunk ass that they were in public and someone could see. 

It was one thing to have Bucky touching her when they were on the sailboat in the middle of the bay, and another to have them touching her at a booth in a private little corner of a restaurant across the island. But it was an entirely different thing to have Bucky’s cock against her ass on the shoreline in this area of town. It wasn’t incredibly busy, but there were a few other houses up and down the beach. None too close—they weren’t fucking in someone’s backyard—but someone could walk along the beach and come across them right there.

Despite her sudden protest, they ignored her—like always. As Steve’s hands unzipped Bucky’s jeans and Bucky flipped her skirt up, she darted out of their grasps, past Steve, and up the shoreline, into the shallower waters until she was almost at the sand.

They caught up to her in no time, and Steve wound his arms around her waist and pulled her against him, practically carrying her now. Her feet left the earth and he growled in her ear, “Baby, good girls don’t run.”

“Wait!” she turned in his arms and placed her delicate hands on his broad shoulders. “Let’s go back to the house! Please! Someone could see!”

He smirked and Bucky positioned himself behind her. They were no longer so deep in the surf—the waves only lapped at their feet occasionally now, the foam tickling their toes.

“No one will see, doll,” Bucky assured her, running his hands up her arms soothingly. “I promise—I’ve never seen anyone out here this late. Plus, a lot of people just went home so all the summer homes are vacant now.”

Her face showed skepticism but she allowed Bucky to pull her down to the ground, her knees sinking into the sand, and Steve followed when Bucky tugged on his hand. 

“Just relax. No one will see,” Steve whispered to her before taking her face in his hands and kissing her. This was remarkably affectionate for Steve, and it caught her so off-guard that she sank into the kiss, paying more attention to his thumbs stroking her cheeks than Bucky lifting her skirt up. Bucky kissed her neck and his stubble on her sensitive skin added to the sensations her mind was processing as he touched her ass, spread her cheeks apart.

“So fucking pretty,” he rumbled against her neck, his hand drifting down to play with the wetness on her thighs. “Stevie, you should really feel her.”

Steve’s hand joined Bucky’s, his short fingernails raking up the inside of her thigh before pressing against her pussy. “Oh, Bucky,” Steve groaned, “She’s ready for you. Aren’t you, baby?”

“No, I—I’m—” She had no idea what she was about to say, why she was still protesting, when they had teased her to the edge so many times that night that she would do just about anything to come. Her words were cut off when Steve pressed three fingers against her cunt, spreading her labia open before sinking his fingers deep inside. “Please,” she squeaked when he found that spot deep inside her that made her cry out without even realizing she made a sound, and then his fingers were pressing hard and fast into that spot until she was practically limp as she leaned back against Bucky.

“Ah, right there,” Steve said pridefully, dragging her almost to the edge and pulling back right as she was about to come. He licked his fingers off with a smirk and when she whined about his stopping, he said, “I want you coming on Bucky’s cock so he can feel how good it is.”

 The next moment, she felt Bucky’s cock where Steve’s fingers had been, the blunt tip pressing inside of her and splitting her apart. As she was distracted by the feeling of Bucky slowly filling her inch by inch, Steve tugged down the thin straps of her tank top, fingers drifting to pull at the neckline until one of her breasts was freed. Bucky’s hands held her hips in place and Steve’s lips met her own, kissing her lax mouth. 

She held her breath once she felt Bucky’s pelvis meet her ass, his cock completely sheathed inside of her, and she felt so full, almost on the edge of too much, but Jesus it was good. A little ball of anxiety remained in her head about if someone were to see them, but every time she dwelled too much on it, she felt overwhelmed, adrenaline coursing through her—and not necessarily in a bad way, she realized.

Then Bucky pulled back out and she actually whimpered at how it felt, the contrasting feelings of full and empty inside of her, the way his cock stretched her so perfectly.

“Fuck, her pussy feels so good,” Bucky groaned. Steve observed the scene, enraptured by the view. Bucky’s eyes shut tight, mouth open in a groan as he fucked back into her; her own face, so blissed out and flushed, lips swollen in the sweetest pout; her body, wet and wanting, clothes clinging to her skin and providing the barest amount of cover; her legs quivering, hips shifting back subtly into Bucky’s every thrust.

“Good God,” he grunted, trying to breathe through his own arousal. He could probably come right there, but he definitely wanted to wait.

“How’s that feel, baby?” Bucky asked in her ear, thrusting shallowly inside of her.

She nodded and keened at his hand sneaking around her hip and cupping her pussy again, just like before, long fingers feeling the way his cock slid in and out of her, the ball of his hand pressing up into her clit. 

“Fuck,” she mewled, bucking her hips into his touch.

“Hey,” Steve snapped, twisting her nipple. “I don’t like hearing that kind of language from your mouth.” A loud cry left her lips, and Steve continued, pinching at her other nipple with quick hands. “Not so loud, baby girl,” he murmured, “Wouldn’t want the whole neighborhood to hear, would we?”

And she was so wound up already, so on the edge from their teasing, from not being able to come all night, that his words did it for her, and she was coming, hips canting back onto Bucky’s cock, back arching, chest pressing into Steve’s harsh touch.

They held her gently in their arms as she came until she was trembling, her pleasure sweeter than any drug for them. She whimpered and moaned, gasped when they touched her in just the right spots, tight hands on her hips, lips mouthing at her shoulder, harsh pinches to her nipples. Steve kissed her until she couldn’t breathe, then nudged her chin towards Bucky’s waiting lips, and Bucky kissed her through the aftershocks, still pumping his cock inside her until she whined into his mouth.

When she was done, panting into the air between the three of them, Bucky’s breath hitting her cheek, Steve chuckled against her neck. “You love this,” he told her, fingers finding her clit, Bucky thrusting harder inside of her now. She shook her head slightly and Steve grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Stop. Lying.” His teeth were gritted and he looked at her with narrowed eyes. “We can both tell how much you want it, how fucking filthy you are for us. You wanted us all throughout dinner and you want us now, and we’re not going to stop until we get our fill.”

“No,” she gasped, still trying to fight the pleasure that was building back up so quickly again. “I—I don’t—”

Steve stood up and stepped back, “Buck, hold her down and fuck her hard.”

Without the support of Steve in front of her, her body collapsed forward into the wet sand, holding herself up now on her forearms. Her body jolted forward with each punishing thrust of Bucky’s hips. Bucky leaned down over her and then she was flat on her stomach as he rutted her into the ground. Sand stuck to her skin on her arms, her chest, high on her thighs and all down her legs. 

“That’s right, baby,” Bucky growled in her ear, hips thrusting wildly. “Take my cock, take it, take it.” And she was forced to do just that—lie in the sand and take it, whatever way he wanted to fuck her. She felt dizzy, her mind fuzzy, and his cock almost hurt with the force that he was fucking her. So soon after her last orgasm, it felt like it was tearing through her, and she could feel every inch of him, hard and heavy.

He shifted his hips on his next thrust and hit her g-spot dead center, and she cried out at how good it felt, hands digging into the sand in an attempt to grab onto something, coming up empty as the grains slipped through her fingers.

Bucky chuckled above her as she squirmed. “That’s it, right there, isn’t it?” He hit the spot again and again, grunting in her ear. 

“Make her take it, Bucky,” Steve said, palming himself through his jeans, “Force her to take your cock. I want you to fuck her until she’s coming again. She wants you so bad, baby, I can tell.”

Bucky held her wrists in one hand and thrust into her continuously until she was practically crying, another weaker orgasm washing over her. Once it was over, she laid limp in the sand while he used her body. “We know you love it, sweetheart. You love my cock inside you, love it when we fuck you. Your pussy needs it, ain’t that right?” She shook her head feebly and he chuckled.

In one movement, Bucky yanked her upright by her shoulder into his chest, taking all the pressure of his cock off of that spot inside her. She cried out from the sudden change in stimulation. It would have been a relief if his cock wasn’t stretching her now in a totally different way, almost burning, painful, but only fueling the fire in her body more. “Please, Bucky, please—" She had no idea what she was begging for, but she needed something—a break, maybe. A minute to rest. Maybe she needed to come again. She didn’t know.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart. Tell me you need me to fuck you, that you need me to make you come.”

But the words wouldn’t come out of her mouth—she couldn’t make herself say them, she was too overwhelmed. The connection between her brain and her mouth was severed, and all she could do was cry out and moan into the salty air around them.

“If she’s not gonna answer you, let’s put her mouth to better use,” Steve suggested, pulling his own cock out of his jeans. He had been content to watch them, but now he was so painfully hard, he had to get his hands on her.

“No, wait, don’t—” She didn’t know how she would be able to breathe with his cock in her mouth when it was already so hard, every one of Bucky’s thrusts pushing the air from her lungs like she was being winded. But her protests fell on deaf ears and then his cock was lodged in her throat. 

Fellatio wasn’t an entirely pleasant experience, she was finding—at least not like this, as she gagged and choked and slobbered all over herself. Although she did like the sounds Steve made, his little groans and grunts, the occasional whimper. It made her feel like she was taking something from him, making him more vulnerable. It made her feel powerful.

As Steve fucked deep into her mouth, her airway was cut off, and eventually she needed to breathe. Struggling and smacking against his thighs, she tried to pull away but he had a tight grip on her hair. 

“Get her hands, Buck,” Steve grunted, thrusting in a little deeper and holding himself there. Once Bucky restrained her wrists behind her back, Steve took one hand from her hair and used the other to pinch her nose shut, further cutting off her oxygen supply as he fucked her face. As her body became looser and more pliant with oxygen deprivation, her mouth and throat became lax, allowing Steve’s cock to go deeper in her mouth, and when Bucky let go of her wrists, she was too weak to struggle. 

“Fuck,” Bucky cursed, gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises.

“Good girl,” Steve breathed, voice low in his throat, guttural and strained, “Taking us so well, just like you’re meant to. Doing such a good job for us.”

“Gonna come soon,” Bucky grunted, forehead pressed against the base of her neck.

“Make her come again first,” Steve breathed, “Then you can come.”

Bucky brought one hand to her clit, rubbing in quick circles. Her body jerked between their grasps, every muscle quivering as she was brought closer to orgasm. The oxygen deprivation made her every nerve feel fuzzy, somehow accentuating the pleasure she felt in her core. “C’mon, honey, be a good girl and come for me.” 

He wound her up tighter and she vibrated with need, letting the pleasure wash over her like a riptide in the ocean overtaking her, pulling her under as she came so hard she blacked out. They both came at the same time as her, with Bucky pulling out of her pulsing cunt to empty on her ass while Steve pulled away from her mouth and came on her face so she wouldn’t choke.

Steve had been supporting almost her entire weight with his grip on her hair, so when he finally stepped back and let her go, she almost collapsed forward before Bucky caught her. “Woah,” he breathed, easing her onto her back when he realized she was not entirely conscious.

Quickly stuffing themselves back into their pants, they kneeled at her side. Blood turning cold with fear, heart pounding out of his chest, Bucky shook her limp body gently by the shoulders. Remaining calm and collected, Steve said her name a few times, hoping to rouse her. “Baby,” he said, voice stern, “Wake up, honey.” She shifted, but did not open her eyes until Steve smacked her cheek lightly. “Wake up now, Y/N.”

Bucky felt immeasurable relief when she finally responded, frowning a little bit as she awoke. She gazed up at them with unseeing eyes, her entire body exhausted from the events of the night. Blinking lazily, eyes glazed over, she turned her face into Steve’s touch when he ran a hand through her hair.

“You did really well for us, sweetheart,” Bucky said, straightening up her clothing and brushing the sand from her skin. Whining, she twitched and shied away from the coarse gritty feeling scraping at her delicate skin. “There you go, baby, just a little more.” His hands ran over her breasts and arms, her thighs, even brushing some sand from her cheek, trying to be as gentle as possible. Meanwhile, Steve tried to wipe the come off of her face but only served to messily rub the semen into her skin before he gave up.

“We gotta get you cleaned up. How do you feel?” Steve asked, brushing sweaty strands of hair from her face.

“Tired,” she responded, closing her eyes again.

“Hey, stay awake until we get back to the house,” Steve said sternly.

She laughed weakly, just a little huff of air and a lazy twitch of her lips. “I don’t think I can walk.”

Steve smirked while Bucky laughed. “I’ll carry you,” Bucky said, collecting her from Steve.

“Was it good?” she asked, voice cracking, eyes oddly watery as she gazed up at him. He knew she was probably feeling vulnerable and sensitive after being used by them so roughly, and he knew the importance of taking care of her after a hard session like that. Aftercare was his forte, after all, and he was well-versed in comforting her after Steve’s outbursts or admonishments. This wasn’t very different from that.

Bucky nodded, cupping her cheek. “It was really good, sweetheart,” he reassured her, “You were really good, such a good girl for us.”

She looked over at Steve, an unsure look on her face. “Did you like it, Stevie?”

Steve’s eyes softened and he nodded. “I loved it, darling. You did amazing. You pleased us so well, and we can’t wait to do it again.”

Turning her head into Bucky’s chest, she nodded, seemingly content. “So did I win?”

“Win?” Bucky asked.

“Did I win the game?”

Steve laughed at that. “Yeah, honey, you definitely won.”

“I thought it was rigged against me,” she sassed him as they stood up and started to walk back to the house.

“Just because you won doesn’t mean we lost,” Steve said.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, it doesn’t have to. I make the rules.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

As they walked back to the house, Bucky kept a running dialogue of praise, telling her how good she was for them, how much they loved it. However, she was unusually quiet, even as Bucky rinsed her off and dressed her in a pair of athletic shorts and a sweatshirt. 

As he tucked her into bed, he asked, “You okay, sweetheart?”

She nodded, an absent look in her eyes. “Tired.” Truthfully, she didn’t know how to feel. A dozen different emotions ran through her head, and she didn’t know which ones were rational responses to the events of the night and which were not, but she didn’t have the will to process them right now. Her mind still felt fuzzy, her body weak, sleep calling to her louder and louder with each second. 

“Okay, honey.” He kissed her forehead, each of her cheeks, and finally her lips, so gently that she would have cried had she not felt so drained. “Get some sleep, baby.”

Bucky slipped into his bedroom where Steve was waiting, fresh clothes and all. As Bucky changed his own sand-covered clothes, Steve said, “I should’ve gotten a picture of her with my come all over her face.”

He hummed, because yes, that would have been hot, but also his blood still felt cold from how scared he got when she passed out. “We need to be more gentle with her,” he said finally, frustration evident in his voice as he yanked his sweats on. “You need to be more gentle.”

Slumping down on Bucky’s bed, Steve scoffed. “She won’t break. She’s perfectly fine.”

“Steve, she passed out. That shouldn’t have happened.”

Steve was on his feet then, squaring up to Bucky, faces almost touching. His tone turned cold when he spoke next. “I think I’m running the show here, Buck. I say what should or shouldn’t have happened.”

Bucky wasn’t scared by his intimidation tactics. “It’s different with her and you know it. She isn’t like the other girls we’ve shared—she’s not used to it. We need to work her up slowly to this kind of shit.”

The sound of Steve’s phone ringing interrupted their conversation. He pulled it out and frowned. “It’s Tony,” he told Bucky before answering. Tony started speaking as soon as Steve picked up, and Bucky could hear his rapid voice from the other end, although he couldn’t make out specific words. “Slow down, Tony,” Steve said, “What happened?” After a moment, he blew out a breath, his face falling. “Shit.” Tony said something else, and Steve responded, “Of course. We’ll be back in a few hours.”

Then Steve hung up and Bucky asked, “What’s that about? We need to go back to Brooklyn?”

Back to his stoic demeanor, Steve nodded, expression severe. “We need to pack up. Stane got arrested and Tony wants us back in New York immediately.”