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p3sephone · 2 years

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No way out. (Dark! Steve Rogers)

Summary: you are a worker in the Stark Tower, only aiming to grow your career and keep your life simple. Actually, you were the kind of person who admired the avengers but from afar but Steve Rogers didn’t have the same plan once he started talking with you.

Serie warnings: this is a serie so there are going to be many specific warnings that will be given throught all the chapters. This is a dark! Steve Rogers x reader, dark! Bucky Barnes x reader serie. This serie is DARK, so expect heavy themes such as non-con, unwanted touches and all that. If you do not feel comfortable with this or if you’re a minor, do not read and block this account.

Chapter 1 warnings: feeling uncomfortable.

Word count: 1,5k.

Note: this is my first serie ever and it was inspired by this one shot here. Reblogs, comments and likes are always welcome and well appreciated! <3

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You were nervous, looking at the building in front of you. You could hear the voice inside your head grin and tell you that you would never make it. You weren't able to hold a person's attention for more than 5 seconds, imagine doing a work of this caliber. You were a professional looking for a job and you expected a somewhat mediocre or at least moderate job. You didn't expect your candidacy sent to Stark Tower to be seriously accepted. The salary was just perfect, more than adequate for you living alone in a small apartment. You could have bought several things and not worried about not being able to make ends meet, but could you have made it through the first day of work? Or rather, every day? You sighed looking at the smartwatch on your wrist, deciding you had to go inside. It certainly couldn't stop time and you couldn't be late on your first day. With a decisive, albeit fake step, you headed towards the large building. You saw people at the exit mingling and getting less and less as you went, until you showed your e-pass to enter. You entered without problems and looked around: a classic building, yes, but by Stark. And it looked good. You inhaled through your nose trying not to show your nervousness, on the contrary, forcing a small smile on your face. You had to make an effort to at least look happy and satisfied with this new job. Everything had already been explained to you in advance by email, you even had an interview to ensure that no confidential information ever came out of your mouth. You had turned your nose slightly up at this: your job was simple and those files weren't really that secret, what could they worry about? But of course it wasn't your business and you certainly didn't have a say about it. You went to the third floor, take the right. Your office was there: there were no new colleagues to talk to, just a coffee machine on the ground floor and your office waiting for you with a great view outside. It was tiny but perfectly adequate for your job. You smiled slightly, placing your briefcase on the desk and taking a few seconds to admire the place. You found it minimal, perfect. You loved simple things. You heard little noises at the door, so you briefly composed yourself as you turned around. "Can I help you?" the question came out almost spontaneously, so much so that you had not taken into consideration the person in front of you. Steve Rogers. He was one of the avengers, you knew him and were grateful for his work. You knew the story of him, you had seen the videos.

He was the perfect hero and soldier, but heroes weren't really your thing. Maybe you were wrong, but you felt gratitude, yes, but not as much gratitude as felt by the many inhabitants of New York and other cities. You were okay, the avengers were too and did their job while you did yours, and it didn't seem like a really bad thing. You wanted to leave things as they were and had made it clear right away that you didn't want to be involved in any kind of danger. "Well no, actually I just wanted to say hello. I saw you outside... you looked very nervous." he giggled nervously, putting his hand to his hair as if to fix it.

As if he had something out of place. You suppressed a little twitch in the eye of nervousness, annoyed that someone had seen you. You hated being seen that way, not because there was something wrong, but because all your life they made you believe it was wrong and now... you just got used to it. You put the most fake smile on your face and then you shake your head. "I was actually nervous, but only for the amount of work. I'm really happy to be here and for the welcome, thank you very much." you have denied how much he may have understood of your nervousness, making your voice silky and gentle. You had to behave like this with the public, you knew that. You could see that he was not at all convinced of your answer, almost as if he knew you were lying. You didn't care, after all your work wasn't in contact with the avengers. And to be honest, you could admit that deep down you were scared of men with abilities like Steve Rogers or others. You loved simplicity, they weren't simple, they were anything but. You were hoping that the golden soldier of America might give up and leave you alone to do your job, but he didn't. Instead, he decided to go further into your office, crossing the threshold of the door and frowning around. "Tony should do something about these offices. They're so bare." he frowned, then paused on you with a small smile. "I really hope you brought something to decorate them with. It’d mean, you know, that you will stay here a long time. Nice to have company." he tried to make you comfortable, but he only got the opposite. You frowned completely this time, dropping the mask and pointing out your confusion. "Company? There are a lot of people in this building." you commented with a nervous laugh, not understanding what his point was. You never thought in your entire life that you could say that, but Steve managed to make you deeply uncomfortable, as well as that overwhelming body. Normally it is thought that the bigger a man is, the more he can offer protection and safety, right? For you it was the other way around. It was as if you were afraid of it, deep down, but you didn't want to admit it. So when he approached you further with a little smile and a frown you pretended to be fine, stopping the urge to play with your nails or look away. He tilted his head slightly, giggling, shaking his head. "The third floor is almost completely empty. It's a new sector, Stark needed a few professionals and they have all already been distributed. Your office is very close to the rooms of us avengers, but in this corridor you are almost alone. Most of the rooms are archives. Weren't you informed? " his tone was almost mocking, you almost found that he wanted to discredit you. Or maybe it was your paranoia that spoke. You nearly choked on your own saliva upon receiving and processing that information, but you couldn't go back now. You had to get used to it. So you did what came naturally to you: pretend to laugh in situations of profound discomfort. "I think I missed it in the email sent, but thanks for the information, now I know why there were very few people here." you offered one of your best smiles, looking first at his blue eyes and then at the door, as if to indicate that he should go. He smiled back at you in the best possible way, almost seemed to commit himself. But he didn't get your message. You then cleared your throat, heading over to your desk and opening your briefcase. A photo of you came out but you didn't worry about it at that moment, thinking of sitting gracefully in your armchair. It was only time to turn around, that only after you surprised the infamous Steve Rogers with your photo in hand. Without thinking twice, you took it from his hands, holding it tight to your chest. Only when you saw his shocked expression on him did you realize your mistake: you lost control. You then cleared your throat, looking down embarrassed. "Sorry, it's just that important but I wasn’t-" You didn't really know what to say, there was no real excuse. The truth was that you were right and he didn't have the right to take your things, but could you really start your first day like that? Fortunately, his gallantry preceded him. "No really, I'm sorry! It was my fault, I shouldn't have... I just saw it and you, it was really beautiful. The view too." he giggled nervously, backing away. He felt deeply uncomfortable, like you. There was an awkward silence, followed by a brief "see you later" and his footsteps farther and farther away from him. You thought Steve Rogers was a great soldier, a good avenger but you didn't think he was capable of making you so uncomfortable. You didn't think about it, shaking your head and getting to work. You didn't have the time or the will to think. You knew you weren't nice and didn't need to believe otherwise, and above all you knew you weren't in that building to make friends or get acquainted. You loved the simplicity of your work, you would not have allowed someone to ruin it even just by entering your mind for a bad impression.

#dark steve rogers #dark marvel #dark avengers #dark bucky barnes #dark winter soldier #dark! steve #dark steve #dark! steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #yandere steve rogers #dark stucky #dark! stucky #dark steve serie #dark steve fiction #dark bucky x reader #dark! bucky x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark james buchanan barnes #dark stucky x reader

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thief-of-eggs · 4 months

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nothing beats the ship dynamic of “hissy black cat and his loyal golden retriever bf”

I eat that shit up every. single. time.

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calumsash · 1 year

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sometimes a song is good because you saw it on a fan edit for your favorite ship like ten years ago

#here let me give you some examples #angel with a shotgun for destiel #dark horse for sterek #brother (by. matt corby) for stucky #armor (by. landon austin) for bellarke #war of hearts for malec #so so many yk??????#i cannot listen to those songs without thinking of a specific vid for them yk #maya talks

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sophiasrant · 3 months

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I am not immune to best friends who are in love with each other

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meidui · 5 months

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steve rogers has a type

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timidpumpkin · 1 year

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Can you do a stucky little reader? She wakes up sick ( flu symptoms) and they take care of her. Angst and fluff with cute nicknames. 🥺🥺❤️❤️

You had me at angst…and fluff…and cute nicknames…okay you had me at the whole thing🙈🙈💞💞heheh i hope you like it!! I set it in little light universe🫶🫶❤️💙❤️💙

(pictures are not my own)

More Than Anything (Stucky x reader)

Pairing: Dark!Stucky x f!reader

Warnings/tags: Dark!Stucky, Daddy!Stucky, Female reader, Implied forced age regression, Sick reader, Meanie bucky, Implied reader has small hands in comparison because Stucky is gigantic (fact), Angst, Fluff, Comfort. Reader baby-talks as well, Lots o' cute nicknames.

Word count: 4.2k

It hurts.

“Mornin’ Doll,” Bucky says after flipping your lights on. The illumination now burning your vision makes you pull the covers over your head as you flip over, hiding from the bright room. You hear him making his way to your bedside. The mattress beneath dips you sideways a bit as he sits beside your dormant form.

“Come on now, time to get up.” he pulls lightly at the duvet covering you. He can tell you’re gripping it with all you can. Though he could easily unveil you, he decides against it, knowing that ripping the blanket from your delicately curled-up fingers might hurt them. Instead, he leans his body over yours, one hand placed on the other side of your hip as he hovers above you. He dips his head close to where yours is concealed by the warm blanket. “Don’t make me carry you down there,” he whispers teasingly, figuring it’s likely what you’re hoping for.

Instead, you only groan in response, mumbling something about getting a little more sleep. It wasn’t an uncommon request from you, and Bucky knew how much babies needed their sleep. Usually, he would let it slide, loving how adorable you look in dreamland, but he can’t. Not this time.

It was almost noon. He peers around your room. It’s not the cleanest, but it looks pristine compared to the current state of your playroom. He had asked you yesterday to clean it, noticing the myriad of toys and their respective accessories scattered across the carpeted floor.

You, preoccupied with dressing your doll so she could ‘go on vacation,’ promised him you’d do it after dinner. Bucky apprehensively agreed, and even let you fall through on your assigned chore after you quickly fell asleep on the couch, much before your usual bedtime. Figuring you played your little heart out, he carried you upstairs and told himself to remind you in the morning.

Having already slept almost twelve hours, he knows if he lets your slumber last any longer, you’ll never sleep tonight. He sighs.

“I know you want more babygirl, but Dada already made breakfast and lunch. You need to come eat,” he waits a few moments for you to respond, but you don’t let out a sound or groan. “I'm serious, Doll, time to get up,” he states, standing up, hoping it’ll prompt you to follow. You peel your sheets back to look at him.

“Daddy…” you whine, unsure of what you're asking for. All you knew is that it hurt. Everything. It wasn’t just that the lights were too bright. It wasn't just that you were sleepy. Your whole body felt…bad. Just bad. You couldn’t exactly explain it, but you did know that moving didn’t seem like it would help.

Bucky only looks at you, unsatisfied. You try sitting up, which you find is more difficult than it should have been. Once you’re upright, you feel pressure in your head. Your cheeks and forehead feel as if there's unwanted gunk smooshed inside. It makes you want to lie back down immediately.

“m’ tired daddy,” you say groggily.

“That’s ‘cause you slept so much,” Bucky knew messing with your established sleep pattern too much would likely make you feel more cranky than it seemed you already were. So, as much as he knew you didn’t want to, he believed it would be for the best to make you get up.

As you start to get out of bed, it feels as though the air is made of thick jello with every movement you make.

“Daddyyy…ughhhh” you groan unhappily at him, and kick at your sheets frustrated that you’re being forced to move.

Bucky’s eyes narrow at your agitated action, never liking that kind of behavior from you.

“Don’t be that way, Doll. it’s too early for that,” he warns.

“Mmm,” you groan again. “noo, don’t wanna, wanna sleep!” you say crankily, flopping back down on the bed again with your arms crossed to prove your point. That point being: you. did. not. want. to. move.

Bucky rolls his eyes, and takes a deep breath, debating internally on how to approach your grouchiness. He decides, only since it’s so early—for you—that he’ll go easy on you, hoping this attitude will fade as you wake up.

“No more sleep, but,” he leans down closer to you, “if you promise to be a good girl all day, Daddy will carry you down there.” he offers as a compromise.

Truthfully, you’d still rather lay in bed, but you knew you had to do what Daddy asked. More so, you didn’t want him to be upset with you, so you nod your head in agreement.

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Okay daddy, what?” he questions.

“I-i’ll be good,” you say, having a hard time remembering what he asked. He slides his hands under you and begins to pick you up. Once you’re in his hold, you quickly let your head fall to his shoulder, wishing you could now sleep there instead.

“And you’ll eat your breakfast this morning?” he asks into your heavy head. You nod into his neck and mumble a ‘yes daddy’ assentingly.

Once he places you in your chair downstairs, Steve greets you with a bright smile, and a kiss to your forehead after setting down your food. When he does, he notices how hot your skin feels against his.

“You feel warm angel, you feel okay, babygirl?” he asks, gently checking the temperature of your cheeks with the back of his hand.

“Oh, she just got up, she’s probably still warm from sleep,” Bucky answers before you get the chance to speak. “Somebody really didn’t want to get up this morning,” he pokes.

“Ohh,” Steve coos, “you still sleepy, babygirl?” he asks. You shake your head weakly, eyes drifting closed. You think about telling him how bad you feel, but you don’t really have the energy to try to explain it.

Instead, you decide to focus on eating, hoping the sooner you finish, the quicker you can return to resting. However, the very first swallow of your otherwise pleasant meal scratches at your throat. You still try to get some down, thinking the pain will go away if you keep trying. When it becomes evident that won't be the case, you poke at your plate and begin to speak up.

“Daddy, m’done,” you push your plate away, “my thro-”

“Uh-uh, a few more bites,” Bucky pushes the plate back in front of you, knowing you’ll never feel more awake with an empty stomach. “And after you finish, you can go clean your playroom,” You look at him puzzled.

“But-”

“No buts. I already asked you to do it yesterday,” he explains, not looking up from whatever he happened to be reading at the table with you. Your face twists in confusion for a few moments before you remember how tired you felt last night. Truthfully, the fatigue was all your body could focus on, making you completely forget about the room.

“But daddy-”

“What did I just say?” he looks up at you.

“I’m tired!” you snap at him, voice raised high and whiney as you bemoan at him. You cross your arms and huff grumpily back into the chair.

“I don’t care if you’re tired. Do what Daddy says, or you can say goodbye to your playroom for the next week” he threatens. Not wanting to get out of bed was one thing, but directly disobeying him with that attitude was another.

Still, you only groan angrily in response, not feeling like you could do anything right now.

“Ugh!” you flop your head down on the table dramatically, hiding between your arms. Bucky lets your stew there for a moment before speaking up.

“Are you gonna finish eating or not?” He asks eventually, eerily calm. You remain silent, unsure of what to say. “Fine, you can go clean your room now,” You look up to him at that, suddenly confused and disoriented. Surely your daddy should know how bad you feel.

“But Daddy! I don't wanna now! I don't feel g-”

“Did I ask if you wanted to? I don’t care if you don't feel like it. Now. Or no playroom for a month.” your jaw drops, your muddled brain beyond baffled on why he’s being so harsh. Still, you know he means it. It wasn’t outside his usual punishment by any means. You almost think you should consider yourself lucky he hasn’t bent you over his knee already with how you’re fighting him.

Feeling defeated, you drag your body out of your chair. Before you can go, he grabs your arm with a warning.

“and quit with the attitude.”

“Yes, Daddy” you squeak lamentably, noticing how your throat hurts as you speak.

You drag your feet upstairs, physically resisting your legs from stomping as you go. Anger and confusion mix together in you as you think about what he said. You didn’t want to be grounded from your playroom. So many of your favorite things were in there. And, again, more importantly, you didn't want to make daddy upset with you. You never liked it when he was. You always tried so hard to be a good girl for them. But right now, it was so hard. In actuality, what you wanted more than anything was for him to cuddle with you. You felt Daddy and Dada could always make you feel better. No matter what, you were convinced your Daddies loving embrace could cure you from any ailment.

Maybe, you think, if you just cleaned your room like a good girl, you could ask to cuddle with him after.

You try your hardest to ignore the pain that ignites at every move you make, but truthfully, you're already abnormally out of breath just from your quick walk up the stairs. The room feels uncomfortably chilly against your skin.

After you get a small portion of the floor cleared, you decide to take a little break. You practically collapse beneath yourself, curling underneath the cozy play tent filled with askew fluffy pillows and dismayed blankets. You shut your eyes and tell yourself you’ll only rest for a few minutes…

“Angel?” Steve's voice echoes back at him from the loft balcony where you should easily be able to pick up his voice. He can’t hear you moving around. “Are you sure she’s in there?” he asks Bucky.

“She better. It’s where I told her to be.” he retorts disdainfully, hoping you're not again disobeying him by being somewhere else.

Steve stills himself, and listens closely, he can tell you’re there, but your breathing doesn’t sound normal.

Concerned, he makes his way upstairs. Bucky follows, recognizing Steve’s ‘something’s wrong’ face.

Steve panics for a brief moment when he enters the empty but disarrayed room. Then he spots you. Your delicate form hidden amongst haphazardly arranged fabrics. He approaches you slowly, not wanting to startle you.

He kneels down, overshadowing you as he gently caresses your cheek to wake you.

“Babygirl?” he calls softly. Puffs of hot air escape your mouth. Labored breathing is all he can hear. All they can both hear.

“Babygirl,” he calls again, shaking you slightly. To his relief, your eyes slowly open. They look sunken, tired, and devoid of their usual playful sparkle.

“Dada…?” you question quietly. “m’cold” your murmur softly, eyes begging to be closed again.

You’re not cold though. Not to Steve. You feel a million degrees too hot under his touch.

“Babygirl…” he says for the third time, this time preparing to move you. “Dada’s gonna pick you up okay?” he explains, remaining calm so as to not worry you. “We're gonna go downstairs,” you feel limp in his arms, no different than if you were deep in sleep. But you are certainly awake, even if barely. He mumbles something to Bucky you don't make out, but his tone alone tells you he’s not happy.

Once you’re downstairs, he sets you on the kitchen counter. You don’t let go of him though, your body weight is leaned almost fully onto his.

“Can you sit up for me, babygirl?” he asks encouragingly, but gently. “Daddy and I are gonna check you out okay?” you groan a bit, still just feeling tired.

“Here,” Bucky speaks up softly, snaking his arms around you, and taking Steve’s place in front of you. As you’re shifted from one body’s hold to another, it wakens you a bit. You almost go back to leaning fully onto his chest when you realize who’s holding you.

“Daddy?” you shift back a little to look up at him. One hand of his is resting at your hip, the other helping support the rest of your body.

“Hey, babydoll…” he says softly, voice drifting, and stomach sinking as he sees how sick you look.

He almost wishes he could somehow shut his hearing out. Your heartbeat is quicker than usual. He knew it better than his own. How it sounded while you slept, when you’d play, how it picks up when you laugh, giggling for breath and telling him ‘daddy, stop it tickles’ with the brightest grin lighting up your face. Now…now he can’t stand it. It’s thumping too fast. Faster than it should be for when his little girl hasn’t moved an inch herself.

Why didn’t he notice it before? He thinks back to how heavily you held onto him when he carried you this morning. How quickly he was to interrupt you. He realizes you probably tried to tell him. And he didn’t listen. Even worse, he made you clean. Guilt seeps deep into his guts as he remembers how funny your voice sounded today.

“Daddy,” you break him from his thoughts, he sees tears beginning to form in your doleful eyes. “Daddy m’sorry,” you breathe in sharply, beginning to cry “m’sorry didn't f-finish-i just-i gots so tireds daddy I’m-I'm sorry,” you sob pathetically, knowing you’ve disappointed him.

Bucky’s face falls.

All you had to do was one simple thing, and you couldn't even do that right. You weren’t being a good girl by disobeying him like that. Even if you felt bad, you feel you should have tried harder.

“Doll, no-” you cry sorries to him more, your own hands reaching to cover your shameful face. He catches them before you do, gently taking them into his and guiding them around his neck for you so you can be more level with his gaze. “Babydoll, look at daddy,” He pulls you, hands drawing you closer so he’s flush with you in between your legs. Needing to feel your skin, his right hand tenderly guides your face to look at him. “I’m not upset with you. Daddy’s not upset with you,” he reassures, silently pleading for you not to cry.

“But-but-I didn’t cleans-I-I just-I-I not good girl,” you sob miserably at the admission, never wanting to be bad for him.

“My little girl, my sweet girl, no, please no” he assures, hating how skewed shut your eyes are. “That’s not true, Doll, it’s just not. Daddy…” he carefully wipes at the wet tears on your cheek, “Daddy should have known.” he admits shamefully. You finally blink your eyes open at him, a timidly unsure expression written on your face. “I should have known. You...you tried to tell daddy huh?” he takes one of your hands and gives it soft kisses.

“N-n’your not mad at me?” you sniffle as your cries begin to slow down.

“No, Doll, never.” he couldn’t be, never for something like this. His mouth opens again, he wants to tell you how sorry he is. He’s the one who should be, but he only finds his own tongue twisted, unsure of how to fully express his remorse. Before he has time to puzzle the words together, Steve interrupts, thermometer in hand.

“Open wide, babygirl,” you do as he says. “tongue up,” he mimics the motion for you. The cold metal feels uncomfortable in your mouth. They must know this as Bucky squeezes your hand soothingly, and Steve tells you ‘just a little longer’ with a sympathetic gaze as he holds your jaw with the hand that’s not keeping the thermometer in place.

When it beeps, Steve removes it and frowns when he reads the displayed numbers.

“Can you tell us what hurts, princess?” Steve asks. You point your hand towards your neck. “Your throat?” he confirms, and you nod your head. “What else babygirl?” you then squeeze your eyes together, remembering how squished your brain feels.

“Head,” you mumble quietly, before crossing and rubbing your arms together in discomfort. “Everything.”

“Your body hurts? Feels sore?” He asks. You nod your head weakly at him, closing your eyes and wishing you could be laying down right now. Even just sitting somewhat upright felt hard at the moment.

“Okay babygirl, why don’t you let Daddy take you to the bedroom,” Steve suggests. “I’ll be there in just a minute.” he smiles at you comfortingly, before placing a kiss on your forehead with his hand cradling the back of your head.

“m’I sick?” you ask Bucky as he carries you to their room.

“Yeah, but it’s okay, Dada and I will help you feel better,” he carefully sets you on their large bed.

It's soft. Yours is soft too, but Daddies always felt so much softer for some reason. Maybe it’s because you got to sleep next to your favorite people. He arranges the pillows and blankets around you to make you more comfortable, then slides next to you. You rest your head on his chest, almost instantly falling asleep again.

Some time passes, particularly how much time is beyond you. All you knew in this moment, is how comfy Daddy felt.

After some time, Steve’s voice brings you back to reality. He instructs you to sit more upright so he can give you medicine.

The odd color liquid he brings toward you makes you cringe. You can tell just from looks how bitter and unpleasant it will taste. You recoil into bucky, small hands gripping at the buttons of his shirt as you whine.

“Daddyyy…” you tug on Bucky's shirt more, trying to force your head into his flannel to hide from Steve and his icky medicine, practically begging Bucky to not make Steve give it to you.

“Doll,” Bucky chuckles a bit at your attempt to hide inside his outer shirt. He still holds you close, hands supporting you on your bottom as you have now completely crawled on top of him.

“Angel…you know I can still see you…right?” Steve teases.

“No you can’ts…m’not here” you proclaim, muffled into Bucky’s chest.

“The sooner you take it, the sooner it will be over, come on princess.” Steve encourages. You’re still not convinced and instead mumble out one word: ‘pill.’

For a second, Steve isn’t sure if he understood you correctly before his lips tighten with a displeased look on his face.

You’ve had this conversation before. He thought surely by now you understood it, but he figured since you’re sick, it might be hard for your little head to remember.

“Sweet girl, babies can’t take pills, you know that.” Steve explains patiently. You did know that. It was early on when Steve refused to let you take any medication you needed through a pill. It didn't matter what you needed, he was always able to find a way to get a liquid version of it from Uncle Bruce. Or, as you like to think, a much yuckier version of it.

Still, you groan in disagreement, not wanting to taste something that bad, let alone when your throat hurt as much as it did.

“Doll,” Bucky speaks up. “I know you don’t want to, but it’ll make you feel so much better.”

You shake your head against his chest, disagreeing with both of your daddies now.

“it’s yucky dough daddy,” you whine.

“I know it’s yucky, babydoll,” Bucky pats at your back comfortingly while he thinks. He knows how hard this is for you, especially when you feel so bad. “Hey,” he peels you back from him a bit, unburying you from his shirt as he has an idea. “Look,” he instructs, “Here,” he takes the small cap of medicine from Steve’s hands and–to your horror–throws it back in his mouth. You look at him in horror as the icky liquid disappears from the cap into Bucky's mouth. You stare at him wildly.

Daddy’s crazy, you think.

“There. See? Daddy took it. It’s not so bad.” Bucky says nonchalantly in an attempt to convenience you. He hands the empty cap back to Steve so he can refill it. Steve shares your look of bewilderment, before you can't help but break out a smile at his action.

“Daddy,” you giggle at him.

“What?” He fakes surprise. “Daddy took it, so you can too.” he assures happily, taking the now filled-again cap from Steve. Still, you recoil from it a bit.

“Yeah…” you look between him and the medicine suspiciously. “but daddy also drinks other yucky stuffs,” you defend, referring to the strong-smelling caramel-colored stuff he likes to drink sometimes. Daddy never lets you have that.

Bucky chuckles a bit when he realizes what you meant.

“Okay, true…and little baby definitely can’t have that stuff…” he says pointedly. “but this,” he gestures the cap towards you. “you have to take.” You look between him and Steve warily.

“Please angel, I know you can do it. Do it for Daddy and Dada princess,” Steve encourages. You agree this time, mentally pepping yourself up and telling yourself if daddy could do it, so could you.

You scrunch your eyes closed as Bucky brings it closer to your lips. You feel Steve’s hands reach down to hold your face. One hand holding your jaw up firmly, with the other around the back of your head. This way, you aren't able to move should you change your mind. Steve knew you’d be a good girl and take it, but he always had to be sure just in case–not unlike what has happened before–you decide to spit it out.

When it hits your tongue, it’s just as yucky as you had imagined. Maybe even worse. Instinctively, your face contorts in displeasure as you squirm around from the gross sensation.

Steve and Bucky hold you firmly in place the whole time and instruct you to swallow.

Once you do, Steve asks you to open your mouth for him, just to make sure you really swallowed it all.

“Good girl, my brave little girl. I knew you could do it.” Steve praises you. “Dada’s so proud of you.” he beams at you, making you smile.

“Daddy proud too?” you ask shyly to Bucky.

“Super proud doll. The proudest of them all.” he winks at you, making you giggle a little bit, but it tickles your throat, causing you to start having a coughing fit.

Bucky brings a sippy on their nightstand to your lips and lets you drink some cold water. It helps calm your throat.

Steve asks if there’s anything else you want right now. You ask for some juice in your favorite sippy, and he lets you know he’ll bring it after he’s done making some soup for you.

Bucky gets out of the bed, making you confused. You promptly grab at his hands.

“Where going?” you look up to him, eyes big and sad.

“I was just gonna go help Dada, why don’t you get some rest, Doll?” He says, knowing it’s what you need most right now. To his surprise though, you don’t let go.

“Nooo,” you say, tugging feebly at his hands. “Stay…wanna…can…cuddle daddy?” you ask bashfully, suddenly feeling shy.

Bucky’s eyes turn soft. Soft. Just like his little girl. Soft. Like how your voice always sounded. Soft. Something, an emotion, a feeling, a sensation, that only you made him experience.

Even after he made you clean your playroom, even after he snapped at you and didn’t listen, you still asked in your softest voice, doleful eyes, and small grabby hands if he would cuddle with you. Sometimes–he’s not sure what he did to deserve you.

“Of course, princess,” he climbs back into the bed with you and you grin happily as you curl yourself around him just like before. He suggests again that you to get some rest, but that too comes with protest.

“Wanna watch ‘toons wif Daddy…can we’s?” you ask. Bucky smiles to himself and kisses your head. Even though he knows you’ll likely fall fast asleep no more than five minutes into it, there’s nothing more he’d like more than watch shows with his little girl

He turns on your favorite show and makes sure you’re perfectly comfortable, tucked around him and under blankets.

“Doll?” he whispers softly after a few minutes. To his surprise, you’re still awake. You mumble a questioning ‘hmm?’ he takes a few seconds to respond, trying to gather the words correctly for you. He breathes in.

“I’m sorry Daddy didn’t listen earlier,” he admits, lips ghosting the top of your head, before placing a kiss there. “I should have listened.”

“It’s okies Daddy,” you hum sleepily into his chest. It wasn’t okay. He knew that. But you—you and your never-ending soft and kind heart—forgave him. And that’s all that mattered to him. He truly was more than lucky to have a little girl like you.

“I love you Daddy,” you squeeze him softly, voice quiet. And even though he can’t see you, he knows you're smiling when you say it.

“I love you, Doll.” more than anything.

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marvelvillian23 · 2 months

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PLEASE!! I need fics rec for all of these! Especially the Convict. Please be multi Chapter fics.

It even can be Steve in these situations instead of Bucky I don’t mind.

*Photos From Pinterest

I’m currently reading Blood Moon Rising on AO3 by Sarahyellow.

It’s a A/B/O prison story where Bucky’s the convict and pre serum Steve is the prison counselor…I think. A riot breaks out and Bucky takes Steve hostage. 5/8 Chapters are up so far.

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p3sephone · 2 years

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No Way Out Masterlist. (Dark! Steve Rogers)

Status: on going.

Chapter 1.

Chapter 2.

Chapter 3.

#dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #dark bucky barnes #dark bucky #dark bucky x reader #dark stucky #dark steve x reader #dark steve #dark! steve rogers #dark! bucky barnes #dark stucky x reader #dark! stucky #yandere steve rogers #yandere bucky barnes #dark marvel #dark avengers #dark marvel x reader #dark avengers x reader #dark steve rogers serie

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nickfowlerrr · 1 year

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fawn

pairing: dark!stucky x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY. kidnapping. noncon/dubcon. only bucky x reader smut. pet names. if i’m missing something important pls lmk!

words: 6.3k

notes: this is what i wrote when my power went out on christmas lmao. if this does well and people like it i’d definitely consider a part two with more stucky smut - just let me know if you guys like this and would read a continuation. 🖤thank you in advance for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are welcome and appreciated!

One click. No flame. Another click. Still nothing. Huffing, you readjust your hold of the lighter. The smell of Christmas already permeating the air, the aroma from the opened but still unlit candle bringing you the slightest bit of ease.

It was cold already and now with the heater out, it was biting. Regrettably your blankets were still sitting in your washer, and with the lack of power, they’d be there until it came back on and you could get them in the dryer.

You made to ignite the lighter again and it finally gave you a flame. Once you had your candle lit, you eased back down onto the couch. The sun was setting and the chill from outside was already seeping into your apartment. Pulling your knee highs back up, you sighed, taking in the darkness that would soon swallow you completely.

So much for finishing that stupid puzzle. You couldn’t see anything. The rattling of the balcony door pulled you out of the silence and had the pit that was already growing in your stomach grow deeper.

Voices from outside, coming from the hallway distracted you from the unpleasant shaking of the door. It was the wind, you knew that, but with each moment, it grew darker and darker and the unexpected noise was unsettling to say the least.

You were alone. And the solitude was welcome, mostly. That underlying, gnawing feeling of loneliness that was somehow always there, no matter how hard you tried to shake it, was starting to get the better of you. Momentarily. Always passing eventually. Or, more accurately, always shoved back down eventually.

The darker it got, you somehow found yourself settling further and further into it. As if it was welcoming you back. The silence, the flicker of the candle, the scent of pine and vanilla softly filling the room. This was okay. This was nice, even.

You felt yourself beginning to doze off, but the cold worked to keep you awake.

It wouldn’t be too long before they got it back on. An hour, tops. Then you could dry your blankets, maybe get a few more pieces of the puzzle put together before you slunk back into bed. A very merry christmas, indeed.

Sun was completely set now, no shadows coming in from the windows. No more watching the swaying of the trees outside. Just flickers of the candle flame dancing along the wall.

Then you heard it again. The rattling. If you had your tv on, or music playing, you were sure you wouldn’t have heard a thing. But in the silence, even a quiet disturbance was audible. Then there was that feeling again. That pit in your stomach. Something’s not right, it called.

Paranoia. That’s all it was.

Intuition, your mind argued.

It was Christmas night, most people were still gone for the holiday weekend, your building near desolate. Who would it be? When do crimes even happen here? It was ridiculous to worry. It’s the wind. Of course it’s the wind.

The creaking that sounded next, though. That wasn’t as easily explained. You froze, just listening. To ensure you heard what you thought you did. Was someone on the balcony? How would that even be possible? You waited. And waited. No more noise. But something was telling you not to let it go. You stayed seated, curled up into the corner of the couch, just staring at the door. You couldn’t see it clearly, the flame not strong enough to illuminate that far from its place on the coffee table. But you could see enough. Enough that as you watched, you suddenly saw the handle move, as if someone outside was opening it.

You always wondered how you’d react in situations like this. Flight or fight, what would you do?

Neither, apparently.

Because you didn’t move. You were like a deer in headlights.

Right, freeze response. You’d forgotten about that possibility. There was another, too, actually. What was that one called? You couldn’t remember.

F..it starts with an f…

The whole while you were trying to think, your eyes were trained on the door. You just watched. Watched as the figure cloaked in darkness let themselves into your apartment. Did they know you were here? Would they care? You weren’t even sure you were breathing as you stayed as still as possible. Maybe the darkness would conceal you. This stranger would take whatever they wanted, and you just prayed the lights would stay out until they were gone. Just be still. Be silent. Not that you could move or make a sound if you’d wanted to. It was like you were paralyzed by fear. The figure didn’t seem to notice you, not even looking in your direction.

The candle. The candle was lit. Was this person oblivious? It was a dead give away that someone was home. The intruder stayed quiet, didn’t seem interested in anything as he walked from the balcony door, across the living room to the front door.

Without thinking, your body was moving of its own accord. You rushed quietly behind them, into the hallway, still encompassed in the dark. You felt your way to your room as fast as you could without running into any walls or making sound.

Your front door opened, and you were confused now. Were they leaving? What was the point of breaking in in the first place?

“Took you long enough.”

The voice of a man, husky and gruff sounded from the front room.

“Shut up,” another man spoke, irritation clear in his voice. “Lock the door.”

Your brain stopped working for a moment. Two voices? Why were there two voices? Why were these men here? Do they know you’re here? What do you do now? Run? Hide? Where was your phone?

Dead. Right. It had died right before the power went out, you’d put it to charge but obviously that wasn’t happening at the moment.

A flash of light hit the hallway as the men walked past back into the living room. You didn’t want to move. Your room was so close, but you didn’t want to risk making a sound and bringing any attention to yourself. So you stayed frozen.

“How is breaking and entering into a crappy apartment supposed to be a christmas gift?” one of the men asked.

“It’s what’s in the apartament that’s the gift,”

“What’s in the apartament?”

“I should’ve worded that better,” the second man corrected. “Not what, but who.”

Three seconds behind. You were running on a delay now. Who?

You.

Three seconds.

Two sets of footsteps down the hallway.

One beam of light shining right at you.

Frozen. For a moment. No noise escaping you. The light too bright, blinding you as you winced. You still couldn’t see them. Not clearly. But they were tall. Bulked. You wouldn’t be able to get away from them if you tried. Funny how that thought came to you just a few seconds after you did.

Arms wrapped around your middle, and you were suddenly being pressed against one of the men as he held you, your back to him, keeping you tight against his chest. Still no sound leaving you. Just breathing, heavy breaths coming progressively quicker.

“Ah ah, princess,” he tutted in your ear as you stared wide-eyed into the darkness before you.

You fell asleep. That’s what happened. This was a dream. Just a bad dream, and you’d wake up any second now. That was the only explanation. Because this wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

“Don’t cry, dove,” he soothed. “Not gonna hurt you, just wanted to introduce you to a pal of mine.”

You hadn’t even noticed the tears as they began welling in your eyes. He was speaking as if you knew each other. Like he knew you, intimately. The tone of his voice, the apparent affection. It was decidedly unnerving.

Your name fell off his tongue as if he’d spoken it a million times before, sending a chill through you as a small whimper finally managed to escape you. The flashlight was now shining on the man you were made to face. Dark hair, stubble on his jaw, piercing blue eyes cutting straight through you. You’d consider him pretty if this was a meeting under different circumstances. There was a look of contemplation on his face as he considered you. His gaze flicked from you to the man still holding you, a question clear in his eyes. Question.. or maybe an accusation.

“This is Bucky,” the man introduced. “I think you two are gonna get along real well,” he sounded almost excited. There was a tense moment of silence after he spoke, your eyes seemed glued to Bucky, your lip wobbling as you stood stock still against the stranger behind you. A painful squeeze of his arms around your waist, and you could feel his strength in his movements. You were sure he could break a rib, crush you easily if he wanted to. His hand gave your waist a squeeze as if he was waiting for you to do something.

“You’re normally so polite, princess. Use your manners. Say hello,” he instructed harshly. Normally so polite. Do you know this man? You started racking your brain for suspects, obviously someone you knew, someone you’d met.. Then suddenly your cheek stung, and you were brought back to the situation. He just slapped you? You blinked at Bucky, seeing him again as you refocused on reality.

“Hello,” you uttered weakly, breathily. You barely heard yourself.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you, his mouth slightly agape as if he wanted to say something. He didn’t. His eyes shifted back to his friend instead.

“This is your idea of a Christmas present?”

“I’m telling you, Buck, you’re gonna love her. She’s the sweetest thing, you’ll see,” he insisted, you could practically hear him smiling as he spoke of you like you weren’t even there. “She’s exactly what we’ve been looking for. She’s perfect.”

It was like your brain just couldn’t quite compute what you were hearing. You couldn’t make sense of it. All your thoughts were still trying to guess who this man holding you was. The maintenance man who came over last week for the leak? No, his voice was way deeper and he was stoutly. The guy at the grocery store who stopped you on your way to your car just to tell you how pretty he thought you were? He wasn’t nearly as built as this man was, you could feel his solid chest against your back, his biceps around you were muscular, nothing like the guy from the store. Was it the bookstore? The place you went to get your oil change? Hell, the drive thru worker from last night? You had no idea. You couldn’t place the voice anywhere.

“We’ll see about that,” Bucky groused. “Let her go, Steve, she’s not gonna run. Are you, sweetheart?” he directed at you.

Frozen. You opened your mouth ever so slightly to speak, but no words fell out. You blinked once. Twice. Finally you managed to shake your head, it was almost imperceptible, but he accepted it. Steve’s arms fell from around you as Bucky took a step closer. You didn’t move, didn’t even think to. Not even as the power kicking back on served as a distraction for half a second. You stayed where you were, only wincing again at the lights coming on. You could see him better now. He was dressed in all black, the darkness of his clothing and hair only made his eyes that much more striking.

“You got a pretty face,” he said appreciatively, his lip twitching upward slightly. You didn’t know why you couldn’t look away, your eyes locked on him.

There was a loud bang, you jumped at the crashing sound, turning to watch Steve as he proceeded to trash your living room. As your eyes landed on him, it took you a moment to put it together. Steven. So you did know him, albeit vaguely. Every Wednesday, without fail, you’d somehow arrive at the coffee shop you frequented at the same time he would. He’d always hold the door for you. You never really spoke, but he seemed so nice. Chivalrous.

What was he doing? What was happening? Why?

Your television hit the floor as you gaped at the sight.

“What?” you breathed out, confused.

“Sorry, gotta make it look like there was a struggle. Don’t worry, you won’t miss a thing,” Steve assured you.

“I don’t- I don’t understand,” you started babbling. “What’s- why are you - what do you want? Why are you here? What’s happening, I don’t - I”

Gloved hands were on your arms as you began sputtering, turning you to face Bucky once again. His hand found your cheek, cupping your face gently as he looked you in the eye.

“Nothing you need to worry about, doll. We don’t wanna hurt you. So you’re gonna be good and listen to every word we tell you, won’t you?”

You kept staring at him, bloodshot doe eyes meeting his sharp, icy blue ones. You didn’t respond, but you allowed him to nod your head for you as you maintained eye contact.

“Good girl,” he smirked. “We’re gonna let Steve do what he needs to do and you’re gonna show me where your room is,” he instructed, turning you to face the hallway.

You walked without thinking, just doing as he told you. You didn’t want to make matters worse.

Flipping the light on, you entered the room. Bucky followed close behind you and moved further in even as you stopped right past the door.

“You got any preferences for clothes?” he asked as he looked in your closet. “We have some stuff, but I’m not sure they’ll fit you,” he said, looking you up and down. “Yeah,” he continued, agreeing with himself, “doubt it.”

You were just standing there like an idiot as he rifled through your belongings. You don’t know how much time passed before he got your attention again. He whistled as he held up a piece of lingerie from your drawer. He turned and held it up in front of you.

“I can see it,” he simpered. “You buy this for someone special, doll? Or maybe someone special bought it for you?” he prodded.

You simply shook your head, looking down now trying to avoid his lecherous gaze. He didn’t force you to speak, and you got the feeling he liked the fact you didn’t. Liked that you were being so obedient for him already. He shoved the lingerie into the duffle bag he’d found in your closet which he had already filled with a bunch of random clothes.

“I don’t know if we’re gonna be able to swing back around here,” Steve said casually as he entered the room. “If there’s anything important you want to bring, I’d grab it now, princess,” he told you.

“Where am I going?” you asked cautiously.

“You’re coming with us. We have our place all set up and ready for you. You won’t have to worry about a thing,”

“Time’s ticking, sweetheart. You heard Stevie, you want to bring something specific, go get it.”

You couldn’t think. They were taking you somewhere. They were packing your things. Steven , Steve, said you were perfect, but perfect for what? You then started to fret over leaving something behind. What if you really never came back here, what if all your things were just gone once you left with them. What do you grab, what should you take with you? That was easier to focus on.

You walked slowly over to your bed and grabbed your throw blanket, it was a security blanket, really. You never slept well without it. You watched as Steve walked into your bathroom with his phone out, he was taking pictures of your toiletries and beauty items. He must have felt your eyes on him because he looked back at you, smiling when he met your gaze. “We’ll get you new stuff, you don’t have to worry about bringing any of this.”

“This is going a lot smoother than it normally does,” Bucky said skeptically as he watched you give nearly no reaction.

“I told you, Buck. She’s perfect,” Steve repeated, smirking now as he turned back to continue making note of your things. “That’s what happens when we’re patient and wait for the right one instead of just trying to make random girls work,” he said, seeming to try and point a finger at his partner.

“She’s not putting up even a little bit of a fight,” Bucky mused aloud as he approached you, ignoring Steve and eyeing you darkly. “Why is that, doll?” he asked.

A few more steps and he was directly in front of you, eyes bearing into your own.

“Oh,” he breathed, a wry smile creeping on his lips. “I see it now,” his hands were on your face, holding you as he stared deeply into your bleary eyes, “you’re terrified, aren’t you?”

A broken whimper broke past your lips as you began to tremble slightly. Things were catching up now. The gravity of your situation, the insanity and brazen entitlement of these men in your home, speaking of you like you weren’t able to hear them, talking about taking you with them, how ‘perfect’ you were, the realization of it all, everything compounding, slamming into one another, sending you reeling.

It felt like only fifteen seconds had passed since you watched the balcony door open. How did all of this happen so quickly? It was like you weren’t even there. Just watching everything from an outsider's perspective. Passive. You were so passive.

You just wanted them to leave. You didn’t want to fight them, what point was there in that. You didn’t want to try and run, again, what would be the point? It was clear you weren’t getting away from them and they weren’t planning on leaving you. The only thing you could do was...nothing. Just let them do as they wanted, and try not to make things worse for yourself. Don’t provoke them or put yourself in more danger. They said they didn’t want to hurt you. All you had to do was listen. Just listen, you repeated over and over in your head.

The pressure of Bucky’s hands on your face increased slightly, the material of his gloves rough against your skin as he wiped at the stray tears that had started to fall again. All you could do was nod. He was right. You weren’t doing a thing to stop them because you were scared. You were utterly terrified.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. You’re doing perfect, listening real well, doing what we tell you,” he praised. “You know, Stevie, this just might be the best gift you’ve ever given me,” he called to his partner while he continued staring, his eyes taking in every detail of your face, lingering on your pouty lips.

You were a present. Not a person. At least not to them.

“Let’s see just how obedient you can be,” he said, his voice lower, darker. He was even closer now, you could feel the heat radiating off of him as he was nearly right up against you. Your chest was heaving from your stuttering breaths. Dread setting in the pit of your stomach as his touch left your cheeks and instead drifted down your body.

“Not here, Bucky.” Steve’s harsh words had Bucky’s hands halting in their exploration.

He sucked his teeth before taking a step back and turning to face Steve.

“You can wait another two hours,” Steve griped before turning his attention to you, softening slightly. “That’s all you want to bring, princess?”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

The question left your mouth before you even registered it as a thought. You saw Steve’s jaw clench as he narrowed his eyes ever so slightly at your question. If you had to worry about stoking someone’s ire, it was clearly Steve’s. He worked to calm himself, taking a breath before he responded to you.

“I guess we haven’t really explained what’s happening here, have we?

See, Buck and I, we’ve been looking for a pretty little dove like you for a long time, now. But they were just never right. We gave up for a bit, decided the right girl would come along when she was ready. And then I walked right into you one morning. You remember it, don’t you? You were walking into the coffee shop as I was coming out. I wasn’t really paying attention, it was completely my fault, but you were so sweet.. Caring, understanding. Those are rare traits nowadays, ya know. I’m not sure exactly what it was about you that struck me, but I just knew..

I knew you were the one for us. Kept an eye on you for a while, I wanted to learn more about you, get to know you better. And turns out you’re as sweet as I thought you were. Lonely as us, too. We’re the perfect fit. I could see just how much you needed someone.

The number of times I’ve had to watch you cry all alone from the outside looking in, it was like torture,” he confessed as his hands were suddenly on your face, wiping at your tears. You hadn’t even registered him getting closer, didn’t notice him brushing past Bucky to take the spot he had been in, in front of you. “But you won’t ever have to do that again. You won’t be alone anymore, not with us. It’s a win-win situation, princess. You get to get out of this shithole, leave all the stress behind you, no more responsibilities - aside from taking care of us. But we’ll be taking care of you, too. I know this might seem scary, sudden, but it’s for the best, I promise. For all three of us,” he finished, looking back at Bucky who’s eyes were still set on you.

When Steve finally backed away from you, granting you some space, Bucky was quick to return to your side. He was intent on you, not wanting you to get very far from him, though you were hardly moving.

After Steve trashed the rest of your apartment, Bucky had the thrown together bag of clothes slung on his shoulder, ushering you in front of him to trail behind Steve.

When you’d made it downstairs to the parking lot of your complex, you were led to a sleek, blacked out fully tinted SUV. Steve went to the driver’s side and Bucky opened the back door for you. He helped you in and then climbed in right next to you. You heard Steve scoff as he looked back at him, but he didn’t say anything as he started the car and drove out of the lot.

You stared ahead blankly as the car made its way through and out of town, you were aware of the men talking back and forth, but the conversation didn’t include you - at least not that you heard. You were sure Steve would make it clear if he was expecting an answer from you, the way he had earlier, so you let yourself zone out.

What had you done wrong?

How did you find yourself in this position? It was Christmas. You were alone and vulnerable. How long had Steve been watching you? How long had you been a target and you hadn’t even realized?

Fuck, you were so stupid. Stupid, pathetic, and pitiful.

You didn’t even try to get out of this, just went along with them.

The feeling of a gloved hand settling on your leg brought you back to reality for the moment, looking down just as Bucky squeezed your thigh.

“If I had let me in on your plans, I could’ve gotten some stuff ready for her,” he spoke to Steve as his hand idly toyed with the top of your knee highs.

“What we have already will be fine for now. Besides, I didn’t wanna spoil the surprise.”

There was a beat as Bucky fiddled with your stockings, contemplating as he brushed his gloved fingers over your exposed skin.

“What’s our ETA?” he asked Steve.

“Another hour.”

He nodded, a hint of a smirk on his lips, “More than enough time,” Bucky responds smoothly, pulling you onto his lap just the same as you yipped in surprise.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters.

“Don’t be jealous Stevie, you’ll get your turn, too. She’s my present isn’t she? You got your gift earlier, why can’t I have mine now?”

“She’s ours,” he nearly growled in response.

“Guess that means you still owe me one, then,” he taunted back while his hands found your ass, groping you through the material of your shorts while you stayed as still as possible on his lap, though the lull of the car driving down the interstate didn’t make that an easy task. You eventually grabbed onto his shoulders to keep yourself upright as Steve passed yet another car, the speed threatening to send you into the door if not falling forward on top of Bucky.

Your unintentional wiggling had Bucky groaning and you could feel his erection growing beneath you.

“You make a mess back there, you’re cleaning it,” Steve warned.

All you could focus on, despite your every attempt not to, was the feeling of Bucky’s hands on you as you were forced onto his lap. Grabbing at your ass, running under your shirt, up and down your back, along your waist, gripping your wide hips as he began rocking you atop him. His bulge was rubbing against you with every move and though you tried to fight it, a stirring.. a tingling sensation in your core began to overshadow your fear and disgust.

Your hands were holding tightly onto him, one hand on firm muscle, the other seeming to cling to something more solid. It was an arm, but not one made from flesh and bone.

Bucky’s hands still on your hips suddenly forced you to sit fully down on him. You could feel his strength in the movement, you didn’t consider for a second trying to stop his hands as they slid down into the back of your bottoms, knowing it wouldn’t stop him. He grabbed your ass, his eyes hungry as he stared at you. He swiftly moved his hands up your back and pulled the hem of your top up and off of you in a flash.

You felt exposed and more scared than you’d been earlier, but deep down you had to have known this was coming. Of course it was.

He grabbed your breasts through your thin bra, kneading them in his still gloved hands. He took a second to finally rid himself of them and when you saw the metal of his left hand, you couldn’t help the audible breath you took as he brought it directly to your throat, squeezing enough to have you shiver but not to interfere with your breathing. He smirked as you subtly sank into him further with the show of dominance before he let his hand wander down and around your back to unclasp your bra.

Pulling the bra off of you easily, he pushed you back so you were up against the passenger’s seat as he ogled your chest. His hands wandered from your throat down to the waistband of your shorts, squeezing you, tickling you, playing with your breasts and teasing your nipples before he pulled you closer again, his head falling to your chest as he took one into his mouth. You worked hard to stifle the moan that threatened to escape when he suckled at you. His touch was all consuming and overpowering. The warmth of his mouth on your breasts, the way he held you to him, keeping your hips rocking against his as he groaned against your skin.

You were completely defenseless and had no plans of trying to fight back, no plans at all to try and stop it from happening. What good would it do? You’d let him have his way, do whatever it was he wanted to do and just get it over with.

He pulled off of you just as Steve sped around another car, you fell forward into Bucky, not bothering to right yourself, just letting your body rest against his, your head on his chest now. His hands found the waistband of your bottoms again and he worked to get them down your thick legs, not an easy task in the position he had you in. He barely managed to get them past your ass before he unceremoniously lifted you nearly over his shoulder and over the seat so you were leaning over him as he tugged them the rest of the way down. You were only then vaguely aware of your lack of shoes, briefly you wondered how you didn’t notice that when you first left your apartment. Your thong sliding down your calves, over the knee highs he left on you, had you refocusing on what was currently going on. You heard his zipper and felt him messing with his pants and it was only another second or two before you were pulled right back down onto Bucky’s lap, a mix between a gasp and a moan escaping you and a hiss escaping Bucky as his firm, hard cock pulsed against your bare pussy.

“Sit,” Bucky ordered firmly. You inched down only a bit more, earning a slap to your ass before he spoke again, “Sit. Down,” he growled.

You obeyed without another word, sitting fully on his exposed lap, the zipper of his pants rubbing against your skin as you did.

“Good puppy,” he praised darkly as he grabbed your face, pulling you to him and forcing eye contact. “I don’t like repeating myself, sweetheart. We’ve only just met, so I’ll give you a free pass this time. And I know you won’t do it again, will you, doll?”

“No,” you ekked out breathily, feeling the tears renew in your eyes. You shuddered as he kissed your temple before reaching between you and grabbing his cock, pumping himself once before he had you lift up for him, placing himself at your entrance. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, your arms wrapped around his neck, the only thing keeping you steady as the shame of your arousal consumed you.

“Pussy’s all nice and wet for me, already, huh?” he teased.

You had nowhere else to go so buried your face in his neck, trying desperately to hide from the humiliation. His hands were on your hips and he didn’t give you any warning before he pulled you down, fully seating you on his dick, the air rushed from your lungs at the shock and stretch you were entirely unprepared for. He groaned deeply, a heady, “fuck”, tumbling from his lips as he held you there a second while you whimpered and cried.

“Son of a bitch, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he growled before gripping your hips tighter, surely leaving bruises. You didn’t do anything, couldn’t move if you’d wanted to. You were gripping onto him like your life depended on it and somewhere deep down you were scared it just might.

Ten seconds passed and he just kept you there, sitting pretty on his cock while you cried into his neck. His grip lightened on your hips and he moved one hand to rub your back, clearly his attempt to ease you.

“Relax,” he soothed, “just take it. Take my cock like the good puppy I know you are,” he said, punctuating his sentence by thrusting up into you, making you cry out in response.

He was too thick. It hurt. Sure there was an underlying pleasure that was making its way to the surface the longer he stayed still, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion, but it was still uncomfortable. And being naked and exposed to the chill air in the car only made you more frigid. Even the heat coming off of Bucky wasn’t helping. You were covered in goosebumps and you had tear streaks still running down your face. You were a mess, a whimpering pathetic mess. Nothing more than a frightened little puppy, just like he knew you’d be.

A jolt of pleasure shot through you as his thumb was suddenly on your clit, rubbing in tight circles as you moaned weakly before laxing against him even further, inadvertently taking more of his cock inside you.

“Just like that,” he praised, giving you another few seconds to adjust to him. “Want you to bounce on my cock, you think you can handle that, doll?”

You shook your head, still hiding your face in his neck, not wanting to see the way he was looking at you.

He laughed darkly at your response before reframing your hips with his hands, “That’s alright, puppy. We’ll try again when your little pussy’s used to me. It’ll take some training, but you’ll get it eventually. I don’t have a problem doing it myself right now,”

All you could do was cry as he held your hips down on him, fucking up into you relentlessly, the material of his pants scratching at your delicate skin and his hold on you leaving marks you were sure you’d see in the morning. Your tits were bouncing as you bit your lip, groaning at the sensations shooting through you while Bucky cursed and growled, moans leaving him with every thrust into you.

“Please,” you cried, “please, please, please,”

“Fucking hell, Bucky, don’t break her before we even get her home,” Steve interjected sharply between your cries.

“You can’t feel the way she’s gripping me, she fucking loves it,” he panted, slapping your ass as he continued fucking you.

“Hurts,” you mewled desperately, hoping he’d take pity on you and at the very least slow down.

“Poor pup,” he patronized, keeping his pace as you clung to him.

“Buck,” Steve snarled from the front of the car.

Bucky grunted but soon slowed his movements, and began moving you up and down on his cock by your hips, lifting you and having you sit right back down, the new motion stimulating your clit with every tilt of your hips.

You walls clenched down on him as he slapped your ass again, groaning and growling as he kept you riding him.

His movements were slower, but he had you taking him deeper than before. “Fuck yes,” he moaned lowly, throwing his head back as he bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut as he groaned. His grip tightened on your hips as he felt you getting closer.

“You wanna come, sweetheart?” he teased, only getting a whine from you in response. He chuckled again, “You don’t have to deny it, doll. I know it feels good for you, too. I can feel your cunt tryin’ milk my cock. Don’t worry, I’m gonna give you exactly what you need, baby,”

His thumb found your clit again, playing you expertly as you writhed on his cock, unbidden moans falling from you as you felt a coil tightening in your lower belly.

“I’m gonna give it to you, you’re gonna take fuckin all of it. But you’re gonna come on my cock first,”

That coil wound tighter, and tighter, and tighter with each swipe of his thumb in tandem with his thrusts until you couldn’t hold it or fight it any longer and it finally snapped. A white hot heat running through your body as you cried out, holding onto Bucky as you came undone. The feeling of his warm cum hitting your walls as he finished inside of you registered too late, not that you could’ve done anything to stop him anyway. The post orgasmic haze quickly faded with the reminder of reality.

You slumped into him again as you began sobbing. His arms held your naked body against his fully clothed one as he relaxed, leaning back into the seat while a hand rubbed your back and you wore yourself out with the tears that fell.

“No tears, puppy. You did such a good job,” he cooed, only making you cry harder despite how exhausted you were.

He was right, you did a good job for him. Didn’t fight, didn’t try to stop it. Just let him have you, however he wanted. You were a coward. Terrified of being hurt, you let him hurt you. You could hate yourself for your lack of self preservation, but when you really thought about it, this was your self preservation. They could easily hurt you worse. They could kill you if they wanted and you’d never stand a chance. You didn’t want to live like this, but you didn’t want to die, either. You weren’t sure yet, but the latter certainly seemed like the worse option.

Just be good and don’t give them a reason to hurt you. That’s all you had to do. That’s all you could do.

Bucky kept you on him, stuffed full of his cock and cum while he held you against him.

You whimpered when you felt his cock get hard again inside of you but he didn’t move you, just kept you sitting on him - keeping him warm.

“We’re not that far,” Steve spoke, waking you as your eyes threatened to close while you laid against Bucky, thoroughly exhausted.

“Good, she’s about to pass out on me already,”

“‘S’alright, dove,” Steve said to you, “You can sleep til we get home and we’ll bring you inside. You’re gonna need your rest. Our night’s just getting started. We’ve got a lot of celebrating to do now that you’re finally home.”

You couldn’t help it as your tears fell once again, and Bucky rubbed your back.

“You’re gonna love it, doll,” he reassured you. “And if you thought that was good you have no idea how much better it is when it’s all three of us. We’ll have you seeing stars, baby,” he simpered.

“Tomorrow we’ll get everything else sorted, but for tonight, we’ll just get you comfortable. The only thing you’ll be crying for by the end of the night is more.”

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sarahowritesostucky · 3 months

Text

📖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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giorno-plays-piano · 1 year

Text

No Apologies

Pairing: orc!Bucky Barnes x reader x orc!Steve Rogers

Warnings: noncon, kidnapping, forced marriage, breeding, magic tattoo, double penetration, my usual orc filth, bad dirty talk.

Words: 2.6k

Summary: Strange, you thought, nervously biting your already hurting lips as you watched them giving you a simple massage, their callous thumbs gently drawing circles on your skin. You'd never thought they would prostrate themselves before a human woman they abducted and married against her will.

P.S. Ok, it was not me who wrote it, it was a horny spirit possessing my body yesterday 👀

__________

"Fucking finally!" A huge dark-haired orc twice bigger than any man exclamed, inadvertently making you jump as you stared at him and his friend.

These two barbarians were the ones who captured you and brought you to the orcs' caves where other human women abducted recently were held - before they were forcefully married to those who kidnapped them, that is, just like you were a couple of hours before.

"Did you mark her with a tattoo?"

The orc behind you smirked, proudly gesturing to your naked crotch with a faintly glowing heart - a magic emblem of sorts, an orc's claim to demonstrate you were a monster whore, a wife of an orc. Or of the two of them, like in your case.

"You're scaring her," the other male said gently, his hand on his friend's shoulder as he eyed you up, humming with satisfaction when you tried to stop your tears, humiliated and afraid, completely naked in front of him. "Thank you for preparing her, brother. We'll take it from here."

The orc behind your back let out a sound close to a bark - he was probably laughing - before finally taking his hands off you and marching back to the main cave where the girls were held before they were given to their respective husbands. A couple of hours before you were presented to your personal orc bastards, you were scrubbed clean, marked with a crotch tattoo, and fed a few sickeningly sweet fruits for your first mating night, as orcs called it. Although, technically, tattoo was binding you to your orcs, the ceremony was considered official once they both filled you with their seed, your kidnappers informed you kindly. It was in your best interest, they said, since if your husbands wouldn't fill your baby room, other orcs could make their claim and take you for themselves. All you had to do was to spread your pretty legs and get a good fuck, they smirked, making your nauseous as you clenched your fists, your arms bound behind your back from the moment you were captured.

Well, you couldn't imagine sleeping with these two brutes with their cocks the size of your arm and staying alive.

"It's gonna be alright," the fair-haired orc smiled at you, gesturing to their bed - a pretty fancy bed for crude creatures like them - and stepping closer to you as if he meant no offense, and you wed him willingly. "We won't hurt you."

"Sure," you whispered as you watched the dark-haired orc licking his tusks as he stared directly at your naked chest. It was cruel of them to pretend to be kind, but they were orcs. Cruel was what they were. "You gonna tear me apart, and I will die."

"What? No, no!" The orc protested immediately as you took a step back, shivering, your arms aching from the rope. "We will prepare you properly before doing anything. It won't hurt, I swear!"

Yes, sure. As if they cared about your well-being, dragging you here like a sac, not listening to you wailing while you plead for your life until your throat started to hurt.

The other male narrowed his eyes at you, visibly irritated, before advancing at you and holding you by the arm. You flinched, your eyes on the ground not to provoke him further. You'd probably die if he decided to punch you. "You humans think anyone different from you is a monster, but, unlike you, we never marry a woman to abuse her. You'll be fine, stop trembling like a mouse."

The hot touch of his rough, work-weary hand only made you shake harder. They were two scary, scary creatures, and you could do nothing to protect yourself, naked and bound, alone in the caves full of orcs who treated you like a child's toy. Nothing good was gonna happen to you here. It was bad enough to be kidnapped, but kidnapped by monsters...

You didn't even feel it when tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. Again.

"Please don't hurt me," you mumbled, afraid to raise your eyes to your captors, your knees trembling.

The orcs looked at each other silently, and the blonde one shook his head, sending his friend a sad smile. The other one softened his grasp on your arm then, gently guiding you to the bed with his other hand caressing your back. "We won't, little girl. I promise, it won't hurt at all."

He waited until you landed on the bed with an anxious look on your face and gestured to the several little bottles on a nightstand you haven't seen before, the other orc opening one of them and pouring some sort of oil on his hand. "Look, all of this is to make you feel better. We'll oil you well before doing anything, and magic will help. It won't hurt even a second. It's your mating night, it's for your and our pleasure."

He nodded to his friend who eagerly spread the thick herbal substance between his huge palms, and the man landed on his knee, taking your feet and massaging the oil into the skin. For a second you shivered, expecting something weird to happen, but you felt nothing except warmth slowly spreading beneath orc's fingers. It was... alright. He wasn't beating you into submission, at least.

"See? We'll put it all over your body, and you'll feel fantastic," the fair-haired male sent you a reassuring smile, pouring the oil directly on your skin, massaging it into your feet and going up as you stared at him, dumbfounded. He was really giving you a massage, an orc who kidnapped you and forced you to marry him just a couple of hours before. "Bucky, help me, please."

You stared at them, unsure, when they both put themselves of their knees in front of you, each taking your foot in their hands and slowly rubbing in the oil. It was still scary to let those huge men, almost complete strangers, touch you, but at least they weren't actively trying to rape or punch you. Strange, you thought, nervously biting your already hurting lips as you watched them giving you a simple massage, their callous thumbs gently drawing circles on your skin. You'd never thought they would prostrate themselves before a human woman they abducted and married against her will. Why were they doing it? Why bother about what you felt? They clearly didn't care for your consent before, so why?

The more oil they used, the less cold you felt, you came to realize as orcs rubbed your unbound hands and shoulders with care, their breathing deep, calm as if they weren't aroused by your naked body. You could almost believe them if you didn't see their cocks bulging beneath the fabric of their pants. Instantly panicking, you raised your eyes to the ceiling to avoid looking there, and they softly rubbed your wrists where it hurt the most from the ropes.

No, they said they wouldn't abuse you. Surely, there was no reason to lie to you? They could have already taken what they wanted, there was no need to coax you into mating with them. It would still feel good for them even if they tore you apart. Instead, they kept spreading this strange magical essence, making sure you were all covered in it, their hands travelling to your shoulders and stomach as they kept rubbing your skin glistening from oil.

It almost felt nice, especially Bucky's arms on your belly. All of a sudden the dark-haired orc you were so scared of turned out to be really affectionate with you, his hands massaging your tummy tenderly but not going lower as he stood on his knees in between your thighs, his friend sitting on the bed behind your back, his fingers softly rubbing below your shoulder blades. It felt good. Serene. The orcs seemed almost disarming now. Was it the magic of the oil? It must have been. But weren't you supposed to feel hot by now? You thought the oil definitely contained some form of an aphrodisiac, considering they were going to bed you, anyway. But you just felt calm and nice, and it didn't make you want to jump on their cocks.

"I thought you'd put something arousing in there," you admitted as Bucky put his hands on your hips, and the other orc, Steve, chuckled. "So that I'd do it with you."

"We don't need any sex potions to arouse you. This oil is to make you relax. Doesn't it feel nice now?" he whispered into your ear gently, his hands cupping your breasts. "You'll be soft and warm, that's all you need to feel pleasure. Now please spread your thighs for Bucky, he has to put this oil inside you, and you won't feel pain at all when we bed you."

Letting your body relax and lean on Steve's chest for support, you slowly spread your legs for Bucky, and he generously poured magic oil onto his palm before covering your crotch with it, his thick fingers rubbing your lower lips and your clit as you exhaled loudly, turning your eyes to the ceiling. It was better now. Maybe you hadn't wed them willingly, but they treated you far better than you expected. Now you believed they weren't going to tear you apart, and you let out a sigh of relief, tears finally falling down your cheeks before Bucky gently wiped them away, his fingers caressing your face as you stared at his soft, warm expression.

Your breasts were already slick with oil, too, but Steve was still massaging them, pressing his thumbs in your nipples, rubbing them in between his thick fingers so that they became puffy and started to itch. Soon it felt really good when he pinched and tugged them a little, leaving nice little kisses behind your ear.

When Bucky slipped his fingers inside your already leaking pussy, you were kissing Steve then who stuck his longue, thick tongue down your throat. It took just a little fingering till you cummed nicely, Bucky's hand slick with your juices as you moaned, your lower belly pleasantly hot. You cummed two more times once your orcs started eating your holes out, their lovely tongues reaching every right place as you orgasmed with your legs spread wide, your knees trembling. Yes, it felt really nice now when Bucky's tongue pressed that spongy spot inside you, and you cummed on his face.

When you let out a moan again, Bucky left a loving kiss on your crotch tattoo gleaming softly in the dark. "That's a good girl. See, told you it would feel nice."

You caressed his thick, coarse dark hair absent-mindedly, "It's because you didn't put your horse cocks in me. They're too huge."

You heard Steve snickering as he hugged you from behind, his pulsing member rubbing your lower back. "Horse cocks, baby? That's a very nice thing to say."

Bucky smiled at that, his fingers on your aching clit, "Don't worry, the oil is working. Now we can breed your cunt, and you'll feel real good, kitten. I bet you'd ride me first thing tomorrow morning."

"Doubtful," you murmured before Steve turned your face to him and made you open your mouth, his tongue licking yours as his cockhead teased the tight ring of your muscles, slowly penetrating your ass.

Bucky was getting as much impatient, his monstrous cock sliding with ease in your pussy while you let out a sigh: it felt so good, just as they said it would. They were warm and strong and gentle, and even their cocks felt right once they started moving in one rhythm, stretching your holes. Your pussy had been tiny for Bucky's member thick as your arm, but now when his cockhead kissed your cervix, you just cummed a little, your pussy spasming and clenching around a nice, thick cock. Having Steve fuck your ass was even more bizarre idea, and yet it didn't hurt either. On the contrary, when his cock was rubbing against Bucky's, separated just by the back wall of your vagina, you orgasmed again with your eyes rolling inside your skull.

Fuck, that was it. You needed to mate. You wanted your holes full of orcs' seed to consummate your marriage and have them fucking you whenever you wanted. Wouldn't it be nice? It'd be so lovely if you could just stroke their cocks whenever you felt like fucking, and they'd sandwiched you between their bodies like now. You imagined walking up to Bucky and just getting your panties down, showing off your aching pussy to have him hammer his cock in you immediately. Or perhaps complaining to Steve that your empty cunt hurt, and you needed his thick, fat cum to feel better. Surely, it would be lovely to have them constantly use their cocks to please you.

You were cumming your brains out. You couldn't even count how many times you orgasmed already, the orcs changing angles and poses to have you on cloud 9. They were talking to you - Steve said something about the restriction to cum in your mouth unless you got knocked up, but Bucky assured him you were getting pregnant real soon - but you couldn't say much with your brain switched off. Now you could only think with your pussy. Sure, why not get pregnant with little orclings? Your orc husbands said they'd keep fucking you, anyway. They'd be so proud of you with your tattoo getting bigger, showing you were knocked up with orcs' seed, a sweet little slut with monster babies in your belly. Your orc husbands would fuck you as much as you wanted them if that happened, they promised to you as your pussy started spasming again, the tip of Bucky's cock kissing your cervix.

"I think it's time," Steve licked his lips, slowly taking his cock our of your ass while you moaned in protest. "Shhhh, baby. We have something special for you."

The other orc smirked, pulling out his member, too, his tip rubbing your drenched lower lips until Steve's cock joined him. You opened your eyes right away.

"It can't be," you said, your voice hoarse as you stared Steve in the face. "You're joking."

"No, baby, you're ready to take us both," he murmured, squeezing your perky nipples as his cockhead penetrated your cunt, Bucky's member entering your poor leaking hole at the same time, stretching it enourmously. "We have to end the mating ceremony like that, fucking you in one hole. Look how good you're taking us."

You stared with horror at your bulging belly, their cocks stretching you so much it looked like you were already pregnant. Shit, why did it feel so good to have them in your cunt together? These too monstrous, barbaric cocks pounding your sweet human pussy, soiling it with their dirty cum, forcing you to bear them babies... Could you ask them to do it more? To have their cocks in you every day? Bucky said something about you riding him tomorrow, right? You could do that. You could milk his horse cock till he emptied his balls in you. And you could suck Steve off real good, regardless of the taboo. You were definitely gonna get knocked up today, why waiting when you could give him a great blowjob with your tight throat?

Shit, two monster cocks abusing your cervix felt so fucking good.

Yeah, you were gonna make babies with them. You were gonna let your orcs have you where they wanted you if you got to command them to fuck you whenever you wanted to.

"A nice creampie for you, baby, for being so good to us," Bucky murmured into your lips, kissing you as your belly grew bigger with his and Steve's seed filling your baby room. "Look, your tattoo is already glowing. Congratulations on becoming an orc mama, you sweet slut."

____________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @biiskuitx @stupendouslovegardener @melodierin @yeolliedokai @what-is-your-wish @lou-la-lou @gachawipes133 @eralen @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer

#bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #yandere #orc!stucky

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romanestuffsposts · 10 months

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⇢ ˗ˏˋ Stucky Masterlist ࿐ྂ

Panic Attack (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) Little reader woke up alone in the bed and is having a panic attack

Can We Have a Puppy ? (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You are ready to do everything to have a puppy

Sick Baby (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You're not feeling well so your Daddies are taking care of you PART 1

Food Poisoning (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) they finally know what's wrong PART 2

Snowy Night (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) a lovely weekend with your daddies in a cute cabinet on a snowy periode

No Change! (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You make your daddies chase you because of one little thing

Cranky Little One + dark punishment (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You miss your stuffie ever since you lost him. So when you got to see him in your dream you were so happy. Unfortunaly for you, someone whoke you up and set a bad mood in you at the same time

Overwhelmed (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) meltdown after a busy day

Cranky Baby (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) you woke up cranky and enjoy watching your Daddies dealing with it

Accident (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) you cut yourself and has a hard time dealing with your mind

Anxious Babygirl (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) your Daddies help going through an anxious and sad day

Anxiety Attacks (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) anxiety lives with you since a long time so it's not a surprise that you fall into a panic attack after meeting your parents for the first time since a long time.

She's Not Your Little! (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader + a stranger ) What can goes wrong when you're at the mall with your daddies telling them a funny story that happened at work ?

Pull Ups (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) a lovely morning with your Daddis

Late Night Care (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) you fell asleep in the car and wake up in a comfy bad. What a great surprise!

Car Accident (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) a deer comes in between the car and the road

Tought Time Sleeping (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) What to do when you can't sleep ? You go to your daddies for snuggles and cuddles

Car Sick (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) you are sick in the car and your Daddies reassure you that it's okay and take care of you

Nice Snowy Day (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) a playful day in the snow with Daddies and cuddles afterward!

Tired And Sad little one (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) your are tired but won't sleep until you have your stuffie

Nice Day at Home (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You can decide what to do today

Fever (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) being sick and the only preoccupation of your daddies is *chef kiss*

Mean Friends (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) your friend upset you by being mean toward you so you ran in your daddies arms for comfort

Period Time (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) bad periods ? Cramps ? You’re uncomfortable ? Don’t worry, your Daddies are here

Cozy Day (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) what do you need after a long day ? Daddies will get it for you little one

Intruders (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) someone broke in and woke you up. He better runs before your Daddies get to him

Concussion (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) you were thirsty in the middle of the night but missed a step...

Over Heated (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) you got a bit over heated after a day under the sun

Episode of Minor Heart Issue (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) you're about to prepare you a good lunch when something from earlier is suddenly coming back. Fortunately for you, your Daddies heard you and are here to make sure you're fine, as always.

Thunderstorm (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) When you're scared, you can always count on your lovely Daddies

A Misunderstanding (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) what happen when they punish you and discover you didn't do anything ? Soft punishment but hard words

Maybe She's Sick ? (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) you woke up not feeling good at all but you couldn't explain what was going one. Your Daddies quickly saw that something was off with you when you weren't yourself, a playful and happy little baby.

Too Much Coffee ? (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) your Daddy is leaving for a mission and you try to find things to make him stay

You, And Only You (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You only want one Daddy to make things for you

We're Here Baby (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) When your day was long, you always have daddies waiting for you with open arms to do nothing but taking care of you

Relaxing Day (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) Just a lovely day and night with your Daddies

I know It hurts, Baby (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) you were scared to have your wisdom teeth removed and your daddies reassure you before and take care of you afterwards

Trouble Washing your Teeth (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) your dadies help going over your sensory issue by finding way to make it more fun

The Rain Will Get You Sick, Sweetness (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) you play in the rain and eventually get sick afterward

It's My Arm Now! (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) after a nightmare, you decide to steal your daddy's arm so it can protect you from the monster in your closet

IUD Replaced (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) you have to get your IUD replaced and you're daddies are here with you the whole time

Running Errands (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) a lovely afternoon with your daddies in the store

Nice Night In (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) your Daddies cooked you a delicious meal and prepared you a nice and warm bath

The Unpredictable Happened... (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) your Daddies thought they were safe from your disease but their worst nightmare is making it's way slowly toward you

Self Conscious About your State of Mind ? (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You're feeling super self conscious about your little space and end up breaking all the rules your Daddies asked you to follow

Bad dream, Princess ? It's okay, Daddies are here (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) your Papa hears you having a nightmare and goes to calm you down. You're soon join by your Daddy

Bad tantrum (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) after a hard day, you let everything leaving your body no matter how it goes away

Too Much Love To Sleep (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) your Daddies suddenly wake up from all the love they have for you

It's Too Dark to Sleep (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) After your nighty died, you told your Daddies you were a big girl and could sleep without one but the truth is shown a few days after

Hurt Ankle (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You hurt your ankle after stepping on a rock in the garden so your Daddies take care of you

A Perfect Sunday Morning (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) What is better than a morning with your Daddies where they're playful, where you cook breakfast together ?

A Bad Period (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) In your bad period of the month, your Daddies take care of you

A Normal Day With Your Daddies (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) What a normal day would look like ? (List)

A Spoiling Little One (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) Your Daddies are spoiling you today

A Bad, Bad Dream (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) Your Daddies are taking care of you after a bad nightmare

You faint but are not alone, Daddies are here (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You faint in front of them and woke up under two scared and worries face peering down at you

A Bad Night At The Restaurant (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) you got food poisoning after a delicious night out with your Daddies

Bad Chronic Stomach Pain (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) what happen when your stomach hurts too much ? Your Daddies take care of you of course

You Missed Your Nap (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You fall asleep on the couch because you didn't had your nap

A Very Big Obsession (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) Who said you were obsessed with Winnie the pooth ?

Bothering Hair (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) Your Papa has a good idea to help you getting over what's bothering you ; cutting your hair

Rescue (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) Your Daddies are ready to fight to have you back

Bad Screams (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You're scared to become like your father, but Daddies prove you that they'll protect you from that

Come Back, Please (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) Your Daddies were really busy with work so you wanted to show them the beautiful draw you had done for them but they snapped and scared you away..

A Night of Illness (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You're sick and your Daddies take care of you

Don't Hurt Yourself to Take Away my Pain, Sweetie (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You took a cookie behind your Papa's back which hurt him.

Not Enough (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You didn't ate enough food and your Daddies came back home just in time

Beautiful Sunset With a Lovely Picnic (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) Your Daddies took you on a beautiful picnic in picnic season to watch the sunset

Be Nice With your Body, Sweetie (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) you always crack your fingers which worries your Daddies a lot

A Perfect Afternoon in the Pool (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) you have a playful afternoon in the pool with your Daddies

An Anxious Day (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You anxiously wait for your Daddies to come back home because all you need is them right now

New Friends (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) you meet your Daddies's friends at the tower for the first time

First Day at School (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You're scared of your first day at school but your Daddies reassure you before and take care of you after your day

The Most Perfect Gift (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) Nobody would tell you where your Daddy is for days so when he comes back, you don't let him go

When School is Too Much, Daddies's Arms Are The Best (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You have too much homework and can't take it anymore

Big tantrum (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) Your Daddies ignored you because of work and you had enough

Bad Jealousy (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) Your Daddies don't like how Tony is with you and finally have enough

How Protective ? (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) How protective Daddies are with their little ?

What Happen When You're not Tired ? (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) It's bedtime but you decide otherwise

A Naptime Routine (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) Your favorite moment of the day is here!

Too Far (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) Your Daddies went too far with a punishment. (No details of what happened during the punishment!)

The Love of Being Rocked to Sleep (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You can't get enough of your Daddies's arms to help you falling asleep

Blanket Will Protect Him (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) Your Daddy had a bad day so you wrap your favorite blanket around him to make him feel better, like it does to you

A New Super Power Unlocked (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You discover that when you close your eyes, nobody can see you. Or at least that's what you think, let's test out that theory...

Too Much Work Cause Too Much Stress (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) Your Daddies tried everything during the week to make you feel little so you could relax from work, but it's only on the end of the week that it worked

You Don't Want To Be Alone (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) Your goal today is to spend all the day in your Daddies arms. Only, a meeting interrupt your desire and you're not happy

Fainting Spells At the Zoo (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) you went to the zoo together but the sun was too hot for your little head

Halloween Party (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You went to a party for halloween and you were really proud of your costume

Sick Day (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) Your feeling sick and don't want to tell your Daddies. But when they understood, they were the most comforting daddies you could ask for

Surgery Day (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) you need to have asurgery and your Daddies reassure you

No Need Pulls Up (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) you don't wanna wear pulls up today

A losing job reassurance (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You just lost your job but you gain more comfort from your daddies

What is period ? (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) it's your first time having your period while being in your little space and you don't know what happen

Pushed (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You're just minding your business at the mall but some guy doesn't have your time

Anxiety Pain (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You feel a pain in your little fingers when your anxiety kick in but your Daddies are always here to kiss them better

Babied (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) You got hurt and slip more, your Daddies babied you until you don't think about what happened anymore

Christmas Moment (Daddies!Stucky x Little!Reader) it's christmas morning!

#bucky barnes x steve rogers x little reader #daddies!stucky #daddy!bucky #little!reader #papa!steve #masterlist #marvel masterlist #marvel fic #marvel #soft!dark fic

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steves-sub · 8 months

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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

#steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers smut #dark!steve smut #bucky barnes smut #natasha romanoff smut #sam wilson smut #stucky smut #wanda maximoff smut #bucky barnes x reader

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timidpumpkin · 10 months

Text

Little Light (Stucky x reader)

Part 4: Retribution

Pairing: Dark!Stucky x f!reader

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: While you're left feeling hopelessly confused, it's clear to Steve and Bucky that you have a lot to learn about being their good little girl.

Warnings for this part: Dark!Stucky, Daddy!Stucky, Forced age regression, DDLG themes, Female reader, Manipulation, Violence against reader, Being tied up, Hints to sexual themes, This one's dark folks, Mean Steve and Bucky, 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI

As always, lemme know if I missed any!!

Notes: Thank you to everyone who has supported me since I posted Part 1 many many months ago. I love you all and appreciate your support and kind words more than I can express. I'm super nervous to post this one so i'm really hoping everyone likes it. ^.^

Tagging: @ppatricia34me @canyonmooncreations @haleyhunwritess

(lemme know if you wanna be added to my taglist!)

P.S. Please feel free to comment/ask questions as they are a million times appreciated as I ALWAYS love to read you guy's thoughts!

(pictures are not my own)

Warm.

The cozy temperature surrounding you beckons you to sink further into its comfortable drowsy feeling. It feels nice–good. It’s comfortable as you pull at the blanket wrapped around you to cover the cold tip of your nose.

When you do though, adjusting as you move, adrenaline rushes through you.

All sense of tranquility leaps out of your body to be replaced by standing hairs and cold blood as you realize you’re not napping in your bed.

No–you’re napping on your capture’s lap.

Hazy memories from just a bit ago replay in your mind. The picture they paint is fogged up by an overcast of intense emotion.

Worry. Fear. Shock.

The panic you felt is now an almost disembodied ghost, content with hiding in the closet as it knows you can’t handle its presence anymore.

Not right now.

It would be too much. Your body and mind having already fought till every single cell within you is doused with exhaustion.

The wispy wave of relief you felt–feel–now molds into another feeling. It rips the comfort your body so desperately clings to at this moment of peril and unkindly reminds you that you shouldn’t have let your guard down.

But you did.

You–as you see it–involuntarily allowed the very person, no, the very people who have snatched you, took you from your, albeit, unexcitingly ordinary–but otherwise stable–life, to soothe the very predicament they have forced you in.

As you recall their hushed voices anchoring you, steady hands smoothing your trembling ones, and sweet comfort that you somehow found in their pacifying of you, the one emotion you painfully feel now is…embarrassment. It aligns with disgrace you feel within yourself for giving into…this.

You stiffen, body frozen in place as you become acutely aware of your situation again. Both the larger reality of being held hostage, and the other–ever so slightly smaller issue–that currently places your head nestled right in your captor’s lap. Bucky’s lap.

This is what you found so comforting in your sleep state?

Head wedged exactly between his legs, resting heavily against his lower half. Your hands curled up. You stare at them. They lay right in front of your view. Almost too close to your vision where you watch them resting, palms nestled down between his thighs.

But it’s not just your position. It’s his too. One of his arms is resting against you, draped over your side, his hand sprawled just at your navel, adding to the welcoming warmth you felt upon waking up. The other, languidly stroking your head with his thumb.

It’s an intimate position–close–in more ways than one. It’s not one you should be in, it’s not one you’re in voluntarily–despite what your last memories torturously remind you.

“You get enough sleep there, princess?” Bucky’s voice calls. You haven’t spoken a word but he must be able to tell you’re awake. Whether it’s from how your muscles have tensed, or the way you’ve been holding your breath since, is unknown to you.

You can’t see him. Your eyes are too intensely focused on how your hands rest with faux intimacy at his thighs and the realization of how long you’ve been in this position makes your lungs feel as if they don’t work anymore.

“You really scared Dada you know,” he moves his hand from your navel to caress your arm as he lends forward a bit to get a better view of your face. Still, frozen in place, you don't meet his gaze. Your self-preservation response only knows how to freeze now as you don’t move, but keep looking forward, completely unsure of how to tackle the situation you’re in.

Waves of memory come back to you. It’s blurry as you remember how scared you were. You remember how Steve calmed you. How his voice led you to placidity. How could that be? It’s what led you to the position you're in now.

Vulnerable. Again. And yet, you let it happen.

But you didn’t, no–you couldn’t–you don't remember exactly with anxiety fogging up your memory.

You knew one thing for sure; you couldn’t give in.

“Not going to ignore Daddy now, are you?” Bucky questions, taking his hand to your chin and facing it upwards so you’re looking up to him. Somehow, it’s still shocking how large he looks. You feel as though you've somehow been shrunk down a third of your size when looking at him. His hand is mostly just ghosting your face, guiding it up as he looms over you, one cheek smooshed against his navel now as his hand remains on the other.

“Hmm?” he questions, his pointer finger tapping methodically on your cheek, prompting you to answer. “Don’t tell me you forgot your manners already now, doll.”

“I-I wanna go home,” You try to sit up, not exactly sure why you said that, as recent events have told you already it’s not what he wants to hear. But you’re just not sure about anything at the moment. He looks at you with a displeased look, face dropping into an unkind frown.

His hold on you tightens; his forearm presses down on your chest lightly, silently reminding you that trying to move would be a bad idea. You don’t fight it, knowing you wouldn’t be able to succeed in getting up even if your life depended on it.

“You are home.” he declares curtly, before swiftly picking you up, dizzying you as he turns you around. You feel as though you’ve barely blinked before you’re in the new position. Your back is to his stomach as he situates you on his lap. His right arm wraps snugly around your waist, firmly securing you against his body. His left hand reaches in front and clasps around your cheeks, the cool metal instantly raising goosebumps on your once warm face as he slowly tilts your head back and forth for you, forcing you to look around the room.

“You see all this?” he lilts with a scolding undertone. “This is your home. All of it.” he pauses before–somehow–squeezing you closer to him. He brings his head to the side of your ear. His chest flush against your back, engulfing your body, and encapsulating your very being with how he maintains his grip on your face. His breath dances lightly against your ear as he speaks, adding to the chilling feeling overtaking your insides.

“Now what would you call a house where two Daddies take care of their little baby?” He speaks in a low, hushed tone. Not a sweet one–like the hushed subdued one Steve used on you just hours ago–No, Bucky’s tone is polar to that. It’s mocking, and sardonic as you can almost feel the smirk gracing his face without even looking at him. It’s as if he’s asking the most rhetorical question known to man. “Hmm?”

You feel your own breathing pick up. It becomes evident with how every millimeter your chest moves, your lungs have to fight against the pressure of Bucky’s heavy arms around you. Your mind is blank as fright starts to fill it instead. How were you supposed to answer that?

When you take too long to respond, Bucky promptly pinches at your side and simultaneously squeezes your cheeks harder, causing a retaliatory yelp out of you.

“Ah! I-I don’t know!” you squirm around at the pain that certainly doesn’t help you think.

He promptly covers your mouth with a shush, his sizable metallic hand swallowing up your face as you squeak dully now into his solid palm.

“No yelling now, doll.” He turns your face towards him so he can look at you as he speaks. He glances quickly at the closed bedroom door before looking back at you. “Answer Daddy’s question.” He directs, “I know you’re a smart girl.” he grins at you, and though–in most contexts–that would sound like a compliment, his tone is decidedly condescending as he continues. “But I’ll repeat my question, just in case my silly little girl forgot.” he smiles snidely at you for a brief moment before continuing. “What do you call a house where two Daddies take care of their little girl?” He says the question more slowly this time, eerily calm but just as patronizing as he goes.

You stare at him with wide eyes as he carefully removes his hand from your mouth. He doesn’t have to speak the words as his eyes alone tell you not to yell again. His fingers remain on your face, retaking their previous position of gripping your chin as he looks at you expectantly.

“...home…” you breathe meekly, voice almost cracking as you do, hoping that was the right answer.

“Good girl,” he roughly pats at your cheek with a slightly more authentic smile. “that’s exactly right.” he praises. You then hear some movement coming from the bedroom. Bucky glances that way before speaking to you again with a stern glare in his eye. “Now when Dada comes in here, you won't say any of those silly little thoughts, will you?” he asks presumptuously. You shake your head agreeably, and when Bucky’s head tilts with a clench of his jaw, you answer promptly out loud.

“Yes, Daddy” you quiver. He smiles at you, and as if on cue, Steve emerges from the door. There's a towel around his neck and he ruffles it around his hair before spotting you, his face lighting up when he does.

“Hi there angel,” he beams and leans down to you, instantly taking in the sight in front of him.

Your adorable frame sitting atop his partner's lap. You looked so perfect right there. As if you were the last puzzle piece missing his entire life, now fitting together so seamlessly that it just looks like a painting. A beautiful one. Steve isn’t sure how they went without you before. Your soft face still holds a frayed look. His poor girl. He was hoping a little bit of rest would ease your frazzled little mind.

“You feeling a bit better after your nap?” Steve asks with a loving tone as he carefully picks you up from Bucky’s lap. He situates you so that you are on his hip, one arm supporting your bottom with legs wrapped around his side as he guides your arms around his neck. You fit so nicely around him like this. He almost wishes he could stop time and freeze this moment forever. Being able to hold you like this, he’s never felt so whole, so complete. You feel tense in his arms, but he knows one day…that won’t be the case. You’ll lean fully in, wholly relying on and giving yourself to them both. He’s eager for every moment leading to it and each subsequent instant after.

Steve’s cold and wet hair tickles your arms. Being so close, you can’t help but notice the crisp comforting aroma that emits from his warm skin.

For some reason, you look to Bucky as if he holds the answer to Steve’s question. He just glares at you with a slight scowl that dares you to misbehave before standing up after too long of silence on your part.

“She’s still feeling a bit confused.” Bucky caresses you, palm enveloping the side of your face. “Huh, doll?”

“Awh…” Steve joins in on stroking your face by soothing the back of your head. “well that’s okay angel. Babies get confused so easily.” he says with that underlying patronizing but sweet tone he uses. “Why don’t you let Dada check you, huh?” he asks while looking you up and down. You then feel all blood draining from your face as your eyes go wide, having no idea what he means by that.

You look between him and Bucky frantically as Steve gently grabs one of your hands from behind his neck. You instinctively try pulling away but his grip tightens before you’re able to.

“Now now, don’t be scared,” Steve assures sweetly, a stark contrast to the death grip on your hand. “Dada just needs to look at those pesky little marks we had to leave on you last night,” he explains while unraveling you from him and setting you back down on the couch where he kneels in front of you. Your body trembles in anticipation–for what exactly, doesn’t matter.

You can’t control it as he diligently peels your socks off and rolls your leggings up to look underneath. He takes his time tracing the deformed marks with his fingertips, lifting up your ankles as he goes before making his way to your arms. He tugs on them gently in front of you and repeats his previous examination as if he’s mapping out every little laceration. “You don’t want any more of these…do you, babygirl?” Steve lilts, an ever so slightly threatening tone lacing his otherwise calm voice as he presses his fingers down, digging just harshly enough into where a bruise must be forming and causing you to jolt at the pain.

“Ah!-n-no!” you yelp pitifully quick at the discomfort.

“No…what?” Steve prods with false grace before pressing harder into your skin.

“N-no Dada!…ah!...please.” you shakily breathe the last word with a plea, pathetically pulling on your arms that don’t move an inch under his hold.

“Good girl,” he praises with a mischievous smile, and unclenches his painful grip, but doesn’t let go completely, instead, keeping a firm hold on you.

He steadily lifts your wrists up…to his lips. They ghost your skin as he glints at you with a soft smirk before placing slow…slow kisses along the marked-up lines.

Warm lips meet the welts that are painted all across and up your arms from where you were bound–corporal reminders of what disobeying meant–he trails each one of them, dragging his lips and dousing each inch of burning skin with tender kisses, his grip remaining its powerful hold so you remain immobile.

When he makes his way to your upper arm, you physically resist from full-on screaming. A quick glance to Bucky with your sorrowful eyes reveals no mercy from him. He just glares at you, a deadpan look on his face but a teasing smirk in his eyes that dares you to make a noise.

Steve lifts his head up to face you after planting his last kiss on your upper arm, just a hair's breadth from your face. Your head has already pushed itself back as far as it’ll go as the rest of your body is ensnared by his that hovers atop yours. Thick air surrounds you as your trembles turn to full-on shaking, watching him as his eyes don’t even meet yours. His blown pupils are intensively fixated on your lips now.

They look so soft.

Time itself seems frozen, all except a slow-motion icy droplet that falls from the tips of his hair. It lands atop soft cotton, dampening the fabric on your chest that ripples chills throughout you. He follows it, dark eyes lowering to where sensitive skin is hidden by the dainty onesie Bucky dressed you in earlier. You feel heat taking over the arctic sensation within you as he looks at your body with what you can only prescribe as desire–want.

But to your–very minuscule–relief he looks back up to your eyes, and gives you a quick smile, before leaning back on his knees again in front of you with a satisfied smile adorning his face.

“Might take a while for those to heal up,” he remarks, “but don’t worry, Daddy and I will give them lots of kisses to help them heal.” he smiles at you.

“What do you say, doll?” Bucky speaks up, crossing his arms.

A confused and worried look that causes your eyebrows to furrow comes over your face, unsure of what he wants when you’ve barely gotten your heart to stop pounding from the previous predicament.

Bucky decides–for now–he’ll key you in. Mostly because he doesn’t like seeing his Stevie all upset when you don’t do as you were told.

He mouths a “thank you” with a cock of his head motioning towards Steve below him.

“Th-thank you…D-dada” you squeak, voice uncontrollably shaky.

“Oh, such a good girl. My good little girl,” Steve beams at you before standing up. “Oh…poor thing,” he remarks while looking down at your trembling form. “You must be freezing,” he states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Dada will go get you a sweater. Stay right here,” he instructs before trailing off.

When he comes back, there's more than just an extra garment in his hand.

“Now later you can play upstairs all you want, but right now,” he speaks while setting down a few colorful-looking books and a box of crayons on the coffee table. “Daddy and I need to watch you and make sure you stay safe,” He then motions for you to move your arms up so he can put the sweatshirt he brought for you on. He carefully moves your arms and head through the holes and then leads you to the coffee table. “You can color as long as you like, angel, just make sure to tell us if you need anything, like water…or juice, okay?”

You nod your head complacently at him while he holds your hand looking down at you.

“Okay-I mean-I-yes…Dada” you fumble before kneeling down on the carpet yourself in front of the variety of coloring books.

You don’t want to color. But–genuinely–what choice do you have? You could protest, but it wouldn’t lead anywhere beneficial.

You scan the playful books in front of you, trying to find some solace in the fact that maybe focusing on this would at least mean less nerve-wracking interactions with…them.

It shouldn't matter–which picture you settle on–with your brain still rattled from before, only you can’t help but feel choosy about the drawing you pick. You flip through the books, dog-earing the ones that pique your interest before settling on a foresty scene that depicts two large sleeping wolves and a little rabbit nestled right in the middle.

For some perplexing reason, the crayon box decides it doesn’t want to be opened by your frail fingers. Steve quickly notices your frustrated struggle with it and instructs you to hand it to him so he can open it for you. You groan at the box and mutter something about how you ‘got it.’

You don’t see his eye squint and eyebrow raise as he watches you fumble with it for a moment longer, but you do feel him taking the box from your hands.

“I don’t want you hurting those precious little fingers of yours now,” He smoothly opens the box and hands it back to you with a pet to your head.

At some point, Bucky notices your tired posture and offers you a pillow to sit on before moving the coffee table closer to the couch so you can rest your back on the cushiony sofa. He moves it effortlessly as if the table wouldn’t break your back if you tried to move it.

You mumble an assenting “thank you daddy” to which Bucky responds. “You’re welcome, sweet girl” with a wink and you withhold from sticking your tongue out at him.

Either one or both of them remain in the room with you for the rest of the evening, checking on you every so often. You attempt to keep your attention on remaining within the lines when you color, but you can’t help the way your unnerved hands still shake, causing you–to your annoyance–to occasionally strike outside the lines.

By the time the sun has long set, and the only thing illuminating the paper in front of you is warm artificial light, you find yourself yawning with your head sideways on the table as you color. Whiffs of savory smells dance through your nose as Bucky has been in the kitchen for the last little bit preparing dinner.

“Getting sleepy babygirl?” Steve asks, peering down at you and your drawings. You shrug your shoulders, unsure of which answer would allow you the most leniency.

“Oh, that one is just perfect,” he remarks while bending over and picking up the forest scene you colored first. It was hidden amongst other drawings that you had shuffled to the side. He holds it up and takes a good look at it. “You did such a good job,” he compliments. “I think this one deserves a place on the fridge” he boasts.

You turn your head back and watch in curiosity as he really does make his way to the kitchen and secures it with a little magnet. He stands back and smiles in satisfaction while you go back to coloring, feigning that you never even noticed the proud expression radiating off his body, and positively pretending that your insides didn’t go soft for a brief moment watching him.

Steve and Bucky chatter while setting the table. You try to tunnel in on their voices but you can’t exactly make out what they’re saying as they speak quite lowly to each other.

Steve makes his way to you and takes your hand to guide you to the table. He sets you in the seat furthest away from the door as they both sit rather closely to you–practically trapping you in. You poke at your otherwise appetizing plate as you have little desire to eat with your stomach still turned in tangled knots.

They both encourage you to eat throughout, but you only manage to get a few bites down. Neither of them look particularly happy with you and your full plate. Nevertheless, they stop pushing after a bit and share a knowing look that you can’t make out the meaning of.

You huff a quiet sigh of relief when they take your plate and start cleaning the kitchen, silently feeling as though you won this trivial round of control.

Bucky catches you from the corner of his eye as you take it upon yourself to get out of your chair. He tenses, preparing to snatch you before you can move until he realizes you’re only going to the living room, opposite of where the front door is. He decides to just watch you for a few moments as you go back to coloring with criss-crossed legs.

Innocent little thing. His naive little doll shading away, having not a clue in your pretty little head of how erroneous it was to make your own decisions like that. It really was much too soon for you to truly understand what consequences will come when trying to think for yourself. He can’t exactly blame you though. His poor little baby had to do it for so long before they found you. It’s probably why you’re benignly coloring away with not an idea in your head of what’s really in store for your life here. Such a sweet, sweet little girl they had. All to themselves. Forever now.

He observes how you ferociously analyze and juxtapose the colors before you, even testing them on other miscellaneous paper before choosing the right one for the job.

He already knows you better than you can even comprehend. He knows you’ve likely already thought you’ve gotten away with it.

“What do you think you’re doing little girl?” Bucky’s scolding voice startles you, causing you to jump a little in your spot. After just a second, he roughly yanks you up by your arm, spinning you around to face him as he holds you. “Did Daddy tell you you could leave the table? Hmm? Did Dada?” he fumes, the sudden escalation in action and tone making you want to just cry.

“I-I-” you fumble, squirming uncomfortably below him. “I thought-”

“Oh I don’t think you were thinking anything in that silly little head of yours,” he chastises while pinching one of your cheeks harshly with his free hand. “And did you really think you could get away with not eating?”

“Ah!-” you fight, struggling against him, confused and disoriented on why he’s suddenly being so harsh when you thought you were off the hook.

“Hey-hey, it’s okay,” you hear Steve speaking up behind him. “Let me talk to her Buck,” he says, allowing Bucky to let go of your arm and cheek. You tearfully rub at your hurt cheek while Steve kneels down to your level. “Sweet girl…remember yesterday when daddy gave you apple juice?” he asks, circling his hand behind your ear and gently cupping the cheek that Bucky previously inflicted harshly. You nod smally, glancing away around the room as you recall the unfond memory of being bottle-fed against your will. “Good, then you should know that little girls need their nutrients. And that means no skipping dinner,” he explains with a kind voice that makes you feel as if he's quite literally talking to a child.

“I-okay…Dada” you add, grateful for Steve at least being gracious enough as to not yell at and pinch you like Bucky just was.

“Good girl,” he smiles at you before telling you to sit tight on the couch while he goes to get your dinner. You sit there, a bit perplexed on how he planned on giving you a meal when you’re pretty sure you saw Bucky scrape the remnants of your food into the trashcan.

Steve returns with no plate in hand and sits a bit away from you, causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion until you see it.

You watch in horror as he reveals a milky white bottle that he shakes in his hand while speaking to you.

“Come here,” he beckons, patting his spacious thigh. You grimace at the granule liquid that swirls around in the bottle, not unlike the one Bucky used on you yesterday. If you didn't know better–which you don’t–you’d say it quite literally looks like baby formula.

“Uhm…I just…” you trail off, trying to come up with a reason, any reason not to be literally bottle-fed like you were yesterday. “I’m-I’m really not hungry-my-my stomach hurts,” you reason clumsily, but truthfully as well since the only thing filling your stomach right now is queasiness. Most of it coming from your situation, but the grainy texture swirling around in the bottle certainly doesn’t help your appetite either. “And-and I can just eat the other stuff,” you add frantically while looking back to the kitchen and wringing your hands.

“Now this is going to help my sweet girl feel a lot better and sleep real tight,” Steve remarks, completely ignoring your words and requests.

“I-I said I'm not hungry.” you say a bit louder, but with a mild tone as to not sound too combative.

“And I said this will help you sleep,” he asserts while dabbing the tip of the bottle on his wrist. “Now come sit on Dada’s lap,” he demands while patting his thigh again. You shake your head while subtly scooting away from him.

“Mmm-mmm” you hum a no while sliding back even further. “Please, I don’t wan-”

“Did Dada ask what you wanted?” he cuts you off with a cock to his head at you. “No,” he shakes his head, answering his own question patronizingly. “I didn’t. You don’t get to decide what’s good for you. Only Daddy and I know that. Now I won’t ask again. Come here. Now.” he insists sternly. You debate quickly in your head, weighing out your limited options. When you still sit there not moving an inch, Steve sighs and reaches for you. He grabs your arm and pulls you towards him.

“No!” you say in response to the action. He’s not necessarily yanking or being particularly rough, but without thinking, you push back at him, your free hand overshooting and accidentally hitting his shoulder. Of course, it’s like you’ve hit a brick wall, the small action hurting your wrist much more than it likely hurt him at all. But something about it felt…cathartic. And something inside you just…snaps.

You had played nice all day, letting them hold you, touch you, kiss you. Hell–you even sat on the floor for hours and colored while wearing a onesie. And now he wanted to bottle feed you actual formula. You had to draw the line.

You couldn’t give in. The silent promise you made to yourself earlier rings in your head. You weren’t going to drink this stupid bottle.

Steve still has you in his grasp and is pulling you closer to him so that you can be in his lap. Only, you take this opportunity to fight. Hard.

With all the strength you have, you wrench yourself back. Steve quickly encapsulates both your hands, making you feel as though you’ll sooner break your own wrists before you ever successfully free yourself from his grip. You take it upon yourself to switch strategies, maneuvering yourself into a position where you just start kicking at him feverishly. It felt childish. It looked childish. But you didn’t care right now. You weren’t going to play along any longer.

You realize halfway through your nonsensical thrashing fit that Steve is likely just letting you play this out before he decides he’s had enough. He decisively stands up, dragging your combative form with him as he roughly swings you up to throw you over his shoulder. You still fight him, your flailing is joined with nonsensical shrieks as you lash out on him physically and verbally. Steve holds you down atop him firmly while hauling you upstairs. Before you realize it, you’re roughly tossed down into a mattress. The otherwise compliant spread hurts you on impact from the height you fall from. Your swirling vision from being upside down and lack of oxygen in your lungs from screaming leaves you disoriented until your dazed eyes focus on structured parallel bars.

Steve’s thrown you into the very crib he showed you just hours ago.

“That’s just for when you’re feeling extra little,”

You instantly try to stand up only for Steve to effortlessly push you back down, sending you to roughly bounce on your bottom. You clumsily try to regain your balance and breath while Steve reaches for something besides the crib. Before you know it, Steve’s grabbed both your hands and starts heatedly tying them together. Tightly. He ensnares your fingers together and weaves the rope around every inch of your digits up to the middle of your forearm, completely restraining the hands that fought him.

You try getting up again only to find it’s surprisingly hard to move with your hands bound in front of you.

He mutters to you something about ‘not moving’ while making his way to the end of the crib. He abrasively yanks both of your legs down to the edge of the caged mattress and begins tying those together too. You flail hopelessly, hurling unkind words at him while he secures your ankles to the bars, completely immobilizing the legs that were just unabashedly kicking at him.

When you finally catch a glimpse of Steve’s face, his expression is unforgiving. Furrowed eyebrows highlight his intense dark focus as veined arms secure you to the crib.

Steve straightens himself up and towers over you from beside the crib. He just watches you until you decide to give up on fighting, realizing you can’t free yourself from your binds. Your anger slowly turns to just pure sorrow, as you find yourself crying hot tears into your already burning face. You murmur pointless cries asking over and over again to just be let go…

“Angel…” Steve says softly, his features appearing less angered now, but still unhappy nonetheless. “I’m going to give you one more chance,” he kneels down, leveling himself with you from outside your confines. He reaches through the bars and caresses your rope-covered hands. “If you do what Dada says, then I might go easy on your punishment,” he slides his hands up, open-palmed, slowly inching his way to your face. He lingers on your throat for a moment too long before laying his hand across your cheek. “But that’s only if you stop being a bad girl…is that what you want?” he asks patronizingly, with a cock to his head, faux sympathy lining his tone. “You want Dada to treat you like a bad girl?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, heavy tears pitifully falling as Steve watches you. He doesn’t catch them as he awaits your answer that doesn’t come.

He then tries to give you the bottle from before again but you only resist. Shaking your head and crying profusely while mumbling sorrowful nonsense.

Steve sighs, and hangs his head. He doesn’t enjoy seeing you like this. He wants to hear you laugh. The same laugh he heard over anything else the first night he found you. He wants to see you smile. The same way you beamed at him that night he helped you find your way back. He wants to draw you close when you fall asleep next to him. The same way he’s watched you fall asleep all by yourself for months. He wants to replace the teeny little thumb you always stick in your mouth when you think no one is watching with his. He knows you want this. He knows you need this.

But it’s obvious his poor girl just doesn’t understand that yet.

Steve knows babies have a hard time listening when throwing tantrums anyway...

For now, if you won’t listen, he’ll just have to show you.

“My sweet girl…” Steve grabs your face, turning it towards him. “You just won’t learn unless Dada shows you, huh?” he releases your face dismissively and stands up.

“If you want to act out…” he speaks while reaching across the crib above you,

“and think you’re a big girl…” he lifts something weighty that’s attached to the top of the crib,

“that’s fine,” parallel bars intrude your vision of Steve from above you,

“But this is what happens when you act like a bad girl.” Steve’s voice turns more ireful with every word he speaks, as he works his way around the crib, latching multiple locks together that you hadn't noticed before with increasingly aggressive force.

“You get treated like one. Bad girls get left all alone by themselves without Dada. If you really want Dada to let you go. Fine. You’ll stay right here until you understand what it means to listen.” he slams the last latch shut.

You barely have time to process his words while your wobbly vision interprets what’s happening above you. By the time you comprehend that there’s a top to this ‘crib’ that Steve has locked you in, he’s already left the room, truly isolating you.

Anguished sobs that were falling on deaf ears during Steve’s spiel to you now meet the equally deaf silence of the room itself.

The only sound that accompanies you now is your own cries, echoing back pitifully to you from the horizontal bars above…

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stevesbestgirl · 1 year

Text

Their Girl - Game Day

Soft!Daddy!Stucky X Little!F!Reader

Warnings: age regression, brief descriptions of food, passive alcohol consumption (nothing major), reader gets overstimulated, younger than usual regression, crybaby queen reader, reader’s hand gets swatted, but no real violence

4275 words

A/N: This is part of Season 2 of Their Girl! Season 2 is still in progress and won’t be posted until it’s finished, but there is a new character in this part that hasn’t technically been introduced yet. Rest assured, the remaining pieces will come in time, but it’s Super Bowl Sunday here in the U.S., so enjoy!

"Papa, I don't wanna watch football," you pouted as Steve pulled a Giants jersey over your head.

He cupped your chin, "Can I tell you a secret?" You gave a solemn nod and he cracked a half smile, brushing his thumb over the line of your jaw, "I don't really care about football either. But it makes Daddy happy and helps him get along with Uncle Tony. Do you think you can help me?"

"Can I take my game with me?"

Steve pressed his mouth into a thin line; he should have expected that. "Yes." Your face split into a grin, but Steve held up a finger, "But we're staying until the end of the game. And if I hear any complaining-"

You shook your head, "I won't."

He tapped your nose, "Good girl. Now let's get going." He hoisted you up on his hip, grabbing your backpack with his other hand.

You leaned out to watch him scoop it up, a curious look on your face. Steve chuckled, "What is it, sweetheart?"

Your cheeks warmed, "Daddy is strong." You never got tired of how easily he carried you around.

He squeezed your leg, "You like it when I carry you around?" You buried your face in his shoulder in lieu of answering. He pressed a kiss into the top of your head, "Good thing I like carrying my baby around too."

You smiled, still feeling shy as Bucky came into view, leaning against the couch. "Look at my girl," he grinned, pushing off and striding toward you.

As Bucky reached for you, Steve spun you away, clearing his throat and puffing out his chest. Bucky grinned, changing course to cup the back of Steve's neck, "And my guy, of course."

Steve rolled his eyes, "Sure thing, Buck."

Bucky pulled him in for a kiss anyway. "Now c'mere, you," Bucky held his arms out and Steve handed you over. "Are you ready, doll?"

"Did you get my game, Papa?"

"Got it," Steve held it up before he zipped it up inside the backpack.

The three of you headed to the rec room, which Steve had promised would have fun things to do.

You could smell the rec room before Bucky even opened the door; the scent of pizza and chicken wings wafted out. The sound of chatter followed, growing exponentially louder as Bucky opened the door.

Inside, Peter and Wanda were making a racket at the foosball table. Tony, Thor, Loki, Nat and Bruce were seated at the ring of sofas that centered around the enormous television. To your surprise, there was another adult present, seated on the opposite end of Tony's sofa. It was your new friend from the office, Stephen Strange. You offered a shy wave, your comfort around him having dwindled since your last meeting.

"Thought you guys were gonna miss kickoff," Tony noted.

"It took a little bit of convincing to get everybody here," Bucky grimaced, setting you down.

Bruce held out an arm for a hug and you climbed onto the sofa next to him, tucking underneath and into his side, "Hi Bruce."

"Hey kiddo, how's it going?" You shrugged. "That bad, huh?"

"I don't like football."

"Why not?"

"Too much yelling."

He grimaced, "People get excited, huh?" You nodded. "What if you got excited too? Would it be okay then?"

You shrugged again, "Maybe."

"Why not give it a try? You might like it."

You stayed quiet; you didn't know if you wanted to like it.

Loki caught your eye from the sofa across from you, drawing a chuckle from Bruce, "Go on."

You hopped across the aisle to climb up next to Loki, "Do you like football?"

He shrugged, "Would be better with weapons."

You glanced at the TV again; you didn't think weapons were the problem, but you weren't going to argue with Loki. As one team kicked the ball all the way down the field to start the game and the crowd went crazy, you couldn't help but think that your daddies could have done a better job. But they were both watching the screen, even Steve, who had said he wasn't interested.

"Did you bring your game?" Loki's gaze flicked from the screen to the group of adults, back to you.

You nodded, "In my backpack."

The corner of his mouth lifted, "Do you want to play?"

Glancing at Steve, you nibbled at your lower lip; it might be a bit early to ask. But you slipped off the couch and trotted over to Steve, hands clasped behind your back, "Papa, can I play my game with Loki please?"

He gave a soft chuckle, his gaze flicking to Loki on the other sofa, "It hasn't even been ten minutes, sweetheart."

You glanced over your shoulder at the TV, "But it's screen time, right?" You let your lip jut out a tiny bit, shuffling between Steve's legs.

A little crease appeared between Steve's brows as Tony snorted a laugh, "She's not bad."

"You two can play, but not the whole time, alright angel?" Steve offered, ignoring Tony. He tipped his chin at the backpack by the sofa, "Go ahead."

You beamed, "Thank you!" Scuttling over, you rifled through the bag, pulling out your game and clamoring back onto the sofa beside Loki.

"Wait, I wanna play!" Wanda's voice piped up from the foosball table, a note of resentment at not being invited in her voice.

"Me too!" Peter echoed, scrambling to follow as Wanda grabbed her own game and climbed up next to you.

Shuffling over to make room for her, you bumped shoulders with Loki, making him glance sharply away.

"Sorry," you murmured, pulling in to try giving him more space as Peter squeezed in between you and Wanda, crowding the sofa further.

"It's fine."

"Babydoll, do you want to sit with me?" Bucky patted his lap.

Nodding, you disentangled yourself from the others and scurried over to Bucky, who pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arm around you and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You looked to Loki, "Are you ready?"

He nodded, though he looked a bit displeased, his mouth pressed into a thin line as Peter and Wanda chattered beside him.

You played, but Loki no longer seemed in the mood for it. He kept glancing at Thor as though he wanted to go home, but Thor, whose face was painted and had a plate piled with food, didn't seem to be going anywhere soon.

When the Giants made a big play, the room exploded with noise, even Bucky, who was usually so soft-spoken. He threw his free hand in the air in a fist, "YES, WHAT A THROW!"

You tensed, squeezing your eyes closed as though it would muffle the sound. For once, Bucky didn't notice- he was focused on the game. Stifling the threat of a pout, you set your game down and wriggled out of Bucky's grasp, expecting him to protest. But he let you go, his fingers grazing your arm absently.

Since you'd already gotten up, you had to find something to do. You slunk over to the food table, appraising the snacks, but you weren't really hungry. Glancing over at your daddies, you wanted them to notice you. Usually, they were so attentive that you couldn't hide anything from them, but today you couldn't seem to compete.

"Too loud?"

You'd been so busy watching Steve and Bucky that you hadn't noticed Peter trotting up to you; it looked like game time had been abandoned. Wanda was snuggling in with Natasha and Loki was speaking urgently in Thor's ear.

You hesitated before nodding; Steve had said no complaining. But Peter gave a knowing nod, "Me too." He held out a hand, "C'mon."

You followed him over to the closet. Inside, board games, blankets, and spare snacks filled the shelves. Eyeing a thick comforter at the very top, Peter climbed the shelves with ease, never wavering as he pulled the blanket out with one hand and tossed it down, following with two others before leaping from the top to land on the newly cushioned floor.

You watched him wide-eyed, breathing a soft, "Wow," as Peter grinned up at you from his dismount.

He began spreading the blankets out in a dense pile on the floor, carefully closing the closet door to muffle the noise as another cheer went up from the sofa area.

Once he was satisfied with his nest, he fixed a serious gaze on you, "I'm gonna go get our stuff. I'll be right back."

He grabbed the door knob, but you touched his hand, "Wait, um," your cheeks flushed with warmth, "Could you get my paci from my backpack?"

Peter smiled and nodded before disappearing, closing the door behind him. You decided it was kind of nice in here; the door muffled the sound nicely and the blankets didn't even smell like a closet. You took another from the shelf, wrapping yourself up as Peter returned, slyly slipping back in and closing the door without a peep.

"Here, pretty girl," he said with earnest enthusiasm as he gave you your things: your game, your paci, and your sippy cup, also from your backpack. He also gave you a cookie from the snack table and a pair of blue headphones.

"I don't like loud noises sometimes either," he said nonchalantly, as though that explained everything.

"Thank you," you murmured, suddenly feeling shy at his attention. Peter was always nice to you, but this was different. He was looking at you the way small children often looked at babies, or children smaller than them; like he was honor-bound to make sure you were cared for.

Part of you wanted to reject his help; you didn't want to be the baby of the group, but you supposed Peter knew what that was like too. So you slid the headphones over your ears, muffling the sounds of the game even further, before you put your paci in and played your game.

Never being allowed to play your game for this long at home, you lost yourself in it. It wasn't until the closet door opened, Tony on the other side, that you remembered where you were.

"Found them. What are we doing, playing Seven Minutes in Heaven?" He smirked, "I get next round."

Feeling extra small, you just stared up at him, eyelashes fanning your cheeks as you blinked in the bright light.

"It was too loud, Daddy," Peter explained, placing himself resolutely between you and Tony.

"Pete, you can't-"

"Tony found them, Steve, in the closet," Bucky was calling back over his shoulder. Peering over Tony's shoulder, his expression melted into a smile, "What are you doing in there, babydoll?" Registering the doe-eyed look on your face, he gave you an easier question, "You comfy?"

Nodding, a contented smile peeked out from behind the pacifier.

Peter didn't budge from his place, "See? She's comfy. We're having fun!" His fists were balled up, even though no grown ups had demanded the closet be vacated.

Steve appeared over Bucky's shoulder, "What is she doing in-" Much like Bucky, Steve instantly softened his tone at the sight of you swaddled up and dewy eyed, "What are you doing in there, angel?" Bucky murmured something in Steve's ear before turning his attention back to you, "It's halftime, princess, do you want to come out for some pizza?" He paused to placate Peter, "You two can come back when the game starts again, if you want."

Peter nodded adamantly, but it was your nod Bucky was waiting for. You were feeling slow, like Bucky's string of words needed to be untangled before you understood what he'd asked you.

With a soft whisper in Peter's ear, Tony guided him back to the party, leaving Steve and Bucky with you. Steve knelt in the doorway, offering a hand, "You hungry, sweetness?"

You blinked at him once before messily untangling the nest of blankets you'd buried yourself in and clamoring over to his hand. But instead of accepting his help standing, you raised both arms, "Up?"

Steve grinned, hoisting you up under the arms and taking you out of the closet to sit on his hip. He removed the headphones Peter had loaned you, setting them back in the closet with your other things.

You babbled softly to yourself, suddenly entranced with the way Steve's blonde hair caught the light, your fingers drawn to the glistening gold. Steve and Bucky talked, though you didn't have enough capacity to truly listen.

"You don't think something is wrong, do you?"

"She seems happy."

"She doesn't usually get so small, Buck-"

"I know, Stevie," Bucky said soothingly. "We'll talk to her when she lets us." He kissed Steve on the cheek and you on the forehead before he veered toward the snack table, "I'll get her something to eat."

Steve fixed you with a puzzled look, "Is everything okay, sweetheart?"

He brushed hair away from your face and you leaned into his touch, "Papa." The word was slurred and barely audible, but Steve heard.

Fingers still buried in the hair behind his ear, you smushed your face into his neck, granting him a sloppy kiss, accented by a muffled, "Mwah." You giggled to yourself as Steve took his seat back on the couch, cradling you carefully in his lap.

You returned your attention to Steve's hair, fingers quickly undoing any attempt he'd made at styling it. He allowed it without complaint; it wasn't a secret that Steve liked having your attention, especially with an audience.

"Papa pretty," you declared, both hands shrouded in Steve's golden crown, now tousled and messy. Natasha laughed, drawing a derisive look from Wanda. Loki, who had been unsuccessful in convincing Thor to leave, looked miserly and disinterested, tucked into the corner of the sofa with his game, though he wasn't playing.

"Oh no, I don't think so," Steve suddenly tutted, capturing both of your hands in his, "My baby is the pretty one." And he buried his face in your neck, kissing and nibbling and tickling, your giggles devolving into gasping breaths by the time Bucky returned with food.

Steve relented, gathering you back into his arms to make room for Bucky, but before he could settle, you were straining against his grasp, trying to get to Bucky, "Dadadadada."

"Hold on," Steve chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you in place. "Wait just a minute, sweet pea-"

"Dadada," you insisted, undeterred by Steve's interference. Reaching insistently for Bucky, you were no match for Steve's strength, eyes welling with frustrated tears.

Once Bucky was settled, he moved the plate safely out of the way, pulling you into his lap from Steve's grasp.

He cupped your chin, wiping a stray tear away, "No need for that, Daddy's right here, princess." You sniffled, urgency forgotten now that you had Bucky. He leaned in closer, cooing, "We know you're extra little, but try to tell us what you need with your big girl words, okay doll?"

To his surprise, you shook your head, "Uh-uh."

"You don't want to use big girl words?"

But you only babbled back at him, the sounds not quite forming all the way.

Steve caught Bucky's eye, but Bucky didn't push further, keeping a close eye on you as you grabbed a fistful of goldfish crackers from the plate he'd brought, sloppily spreading a trail of them from the end table to your seat on the sofa.

Steve captured your fist in his hand, trying to work the crackers loose before crumbs ended up scattered all over the rec room, "Here sweetness, we'll feed you instead, hm?"

But you let out a squeal of protest, fist instinctively jerking away and scattering crackers across the floor.

Before you could process, there was a sting to the top of your fist; Steve had given you a sharp tap, "Hey!"

As the realization set in, you stared at Steve with a wobbly lip, sucking in a breath, but before you could cry, Peter exclaimed, "That's not nice!"

"Pete-" Tony began, trying to shush Peter from the snack table, but Peter ducked his arm and charged over to the sofa, crossing his arms expectantly at Steve.

"Hitting is mean."

Now that the attention was on someone else, you buried your face in Bucky's shoulder with a soft whimper, watching Peter and Steve.

"Peter, honey," Steve tried to explain, "I didn't hit-"

"Yes you did, I saw," Peter insisted, though he glanced at your face, verifying your watery eyes and sniffles before he challenged Steve for the second time.

"I would-"

"I saw too," Loki chimed in. Wanda was quiet under Natasha's guidance, but she nodded her agreement.

Steve looked pained, "That wasn't to hurt-"

"Steve just needed to get her attention," Bucky tried to help.

But Peter wasn't having it, "Pretty girl is little, she doesn't know." Catching the note of ferocity in his own tone, Peter dialed it back, stealing a glance back at Tony to make sure he wasn't in trouble yet, "You're strong Uncle Steve, what if you did hurt her hand on accident?"

Steve took a deep, calming breath, "I would never hurt her on purpose. I'll be more careful, okay Pete?"

Peter didn't appear convinced, but he nodded. Steve urged him over closer, speaking low, "You're doing a good job looking out for her, okay buddy? I appreciate it."

Peter nodded again, stealing another glance at you to make sure you were really okay. But before he could return to Tony, who was still at the snack table chatting with Stephen, you held out your hand, offering the last goldfish cracker clutched there.

Politely accepting a cracker, Peter scuttled back to Tony, his courage depleted after standing up to a grown up.

Steve turned his guilty gaze back to you. You stared at him, tucked into the safety of Bucky's chest. He captured your now empty hand, pressing kisses into the back of it, "I'm sorry if I surprised you, sweetheart. Will you let me feed you, please?"

You nodded slowly, making no move to lift your head from Bucky; he was rubbing your back and it was making you sleepy.

"Buck, she won't sleep tonight if she naps now," Steve warned, taking the plate from Bucky's free hand and offering you a bite of pizza.

Bucky chuckled at your groan of protest as he removed his hand, propping you up in his lap so you could eat, "C'mon doll, eat something for us?"

You nibbled the pizza half-heartedly, but it was enough for them, both men raining praises on you for being so good. You only ate a little, but Steve and Bucky were more focused on keeping you calm and happy.

Suddenly remembering the party, you peeked at the others. Wanda was laying with her head in Nat's lap, playing her game solo. Peter was with Tony and Stephen at the snack table still, looking a bit shy. Thor was engrossed in the halftime report on the TV, bringing a large flagon to his lips for a deep drink, oblivious to the thunderstorm of atmosphere surrounding Loki beside him.

Loki looked miserable. His game was turned off, resting on the arm of the sofa. He had his knees pulled up, arms wrapped around them so his chin rested in the gap in between.

Tugging Bucky's sleeve, you pointed, "Dada?"

Bucky spoke gently in your ear, "What is it, princess?"

You struggled for the words, "He sad."

"He does look a little sad, huh?" he murmured, stealing a glance at Steve to see if he was listening, but he was chatting with Nat and Bruce. "You wanna help?"

You nodded and Bucky dutifully carried you over, patiently waiting for you to speak, "Loki?" It didn't sound like it usually did- the syllables were disjointed, but Loki was already paying attention.

"Yes," he replied plainly.

"I sit?"

"Sure."

Bucky settled you in between Loki and Thor, "Shout if you need me, okay baby?" He kissed your forehead before he returned to Steve, who urgently spoke in his ear, his gaze on you.

Loki didn't strike up a conversation. Words weren't your strong suit at the moment, so you just leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder, "Okay?" Loki gave a short hum that sounded like approval, so you closed your eyes.

After a minute or two, Loki shifted, lowering his legs. You sat up as he readjusted, and he glanced at you, "You can stay- if you want."

Smiling, you leaned on him again as he grabbed his game. Lighting up further, you pointed, "I watch?"

He gave a tight nod, "Sure."

So you watched him play for a few minutes, disturbed only slightly when Thor finally stood to refill his mug and get more food. When Thor came back, plopping into his seat and shifting the sofa, you were pushed further into Loki, sliding down into his cushion with him.

You let out a soft, surprised squeal, fingers curling around Loki's arm for support. You saw the way Bucky's head snapped to you, instantly seeking you out to make sure you were okay. Steve, who had never stopped watching, narrowed his eyes.

"My apologies, little one, are you alright?" Thor patted your head.

Giggling, you nodded, allowing Bucky to relax as the game started again. As the ball was kicked again, everyone settled back into their seats to watch, although the noise quickly picked back up.

Before long, there was a collective inhale across the room and then all of the adults started shouting.

"Come on!"

"That was pass interference! Are the refs blind?"

Thor thumped his fist on the arm of the sofa, "Foul play!"

Peter caught your eye from his place next to Tony before he stood. Moments later, he was in front of you, the pair of blue headphones and your pacifier brought from the closet.

Rather than hand them to you, Peter carefully put the headphones on your head, though they weren't plugged in, and held the paci up to your lips.

"Fank you," you slurred around it, grateful to Peter but suddenly shy at the attention.

Peter grinned proudly before climbing back up next to Tony, who ruffled his hair.

Loki grabbed the end of the headphone cable, plugging it into his game so the sound would cover the noise.

Resting your head back on Loki's shoulder, you could hear the faint murmur of chatter and the occasional exclamation following a big play, but the sound wasn't so overwhelming.

And despite the dull uptick in the volume after each play, your eyelids grew heavy, your cheek smushed against Loki's shoulder.

You woke as your seat suddenly shifted again, the collective shout loud enough to pierce the protection of the headphones.

Jolting up to see Thor jump off the sofa, his fists raised in the air, "YES! YES!" The other adults cheered with him, but the sudden change in atmosphere was a shock. With a single sniffle, you burst into tears, the sound muffled underneath the din.

Before you could inhale for a wail, a pair of arms hoisted you up, Steve's scent soothing you before you'd even caught a glimpse of blonde hair.

"I've got you, sweetness," he cooed in your ear, whisking you back to his place next to Bucky.

You sniffled weakly, lip trembling, but no one other than Loki seemed to have noticed anything was wrong. By the time Bucky finished cheering and Thor sat back down, Steve had you cradled in his lap, Peter's headphones playing soft music in your ears.

Bucky smiled at you, brushing his thumb idly over your ankle. You blinked at him and Bucky instantly noticed the glitter of tears on your lashes, giving your ankle a soft squeeze and lifting a headphone to talk to you, "You okay, babydoll? You need to go home?"

Sloppily rubbing an eye, you shook your head, "Daddy havin' fun."

But Bucky shook his head, leaning in closer, "You tell me if you need to go, okay?" He cupped your chin, "My baby is more important, alright?"

Cheeks warming under the intensity of his gaze, you nodded. Looking satisfied, Bucky sat back, though he rested his palm on your ankle, his thumb resuming its path.

You curled your fingers into Steve's jersey, watching the people run around on the screen for lack of anything else to focus on. With Bucky's thumb tracing over your ankle and Steve's warm palm tracing your back, watching the game wasn't so bad.

As a man in blue ran down the field, another cheer went up, growing louder as his long strides carried him down into the very end of the field. Thor launched from his seat shouting again, oblivious to the sharp look he got from Steve. But you were ready for it this time, clapping along with everyone else.

The room quickly got quiet as all the players lined up by the goalposts, the tension obvious.

Bucky's fingers slowed on your ankle, squeezing softly as the play started. You struggled to keep track of the ball, but the room exploded in cheers again and Bucky hoisted you off Steve's lap as he jumped up to match Thor's enthusiasm.

Giggling, you clapped again, "Did we win, Daddy?"

Bucky grinned, looking as excited as you'd ever seen him, "We sure did, babydoll."

"Yay!"

Bucky looked so happy to see you excited about something he liked, blue eyes lit up with little crinkles around the corners of his eyes. Maybe you could like football too.

#daddy!stucky #daddy!stucky x little!reader #soft!dark!daddy!stucky #little!reader #agere #sfw agere #their girl #their girl series

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