"The Guests"
Characters: Dark!Steve x Dark!Bucky x reader
Summary: accidentally bump into Bucky Barnes, who, along with Steve Rogers, invites you to stay.
Part 1
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The music pulses against the walls, a steady thump that rattles through your bones. The place is packed—people laughing, drinking, pressing in too close. You shift on your feet, clutching your drink like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered.
"You can’t just stand here all night," Mandy sighs, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Go talk to someone. Have fun. That’s the whole point."
You glance at her, stomach twisting. "You’re the one who asked me to come."
"And now I’m asking you to not be a buzzkill," she mutters, checking her phone. Her eyes light up. "Okay, I gotta go. Don’t do that weird thing where you disappear, alright?"
Before you can answer, she’s gone, weaving through the crowd with purpose. You exhale slowly, gripping the glass tighter. You wouldn’t disappear. But you might want to.
You push forward, slipping through clusters of strangers, past the laughter and the clink of glasses. The air smells like whiskey and expensive cologne. You should leave, but you don’t. You’re not sure why.
Then you brush past someone—solid, broad shoulders, a low chuckle in your ear.
"Careful, doll," the voice rumbles.
You turn, already apologizing, but the words stick in your throat. Bucky Barnes is watching you, head tilted slightly, something amused in his expression. Beside him, Steve Rogers leans against the bar, nursing a drink.
"Didn’t mean to—" you start, but Bucky shakes his head.
"Relax," he says smoothly, "I don’t bite."
"Debatable," Steve murmurs, taking a sip from his glass.
Bucky smirks, nudging his best friend with his elbow before turning his attention back to you. "You look like you don’t want to be here."
You hesitate, shifting under his gaze. "I—uh. It’s not really my scene."
Bucky hums in understanding, then gestures toward the seat beside him. "Sit. Keep us company. Rogers was just telling me how much he loves these parties."
Steve sighs. "I said they’re not that bad."
"Which, in Steve-speak, means he hates them," Bucky grins, motioning again for you to sit.
You waver, glancing toward the exit. You could leave. But there’s something about the way they’re both watching you, like you belong here more than you think.
"Yeah, it would be rude if you just let this incident ruin your night" Steve adds.
Maybe just for a little while, you think.
You slide into the seat, and Bucky grins like he knew you would.
"Well, what's your name doll?" Bucky asks.
Of course, you know them because they are heroes, and they just told you their names, but...should you tell them?.
You hesitate, fingers curling against your lap. They’re watching you, waiting. It’s not just casual curiosity—there’s something more, like they’re testing you.
You swallow and finally murmur your name.
Bucky repeats it, slow, like he’s tasting it. Steve just nods, approving.
“See? Not so hard,” Bucky smirks. “Now, let’s get you a drink, sweetheart.”
Steve gestures toward the glasses on the table. “You don’t have to, but it might help you relax.”
The way he says it makes you pause. The way Bucky is still watching makes your skin prickle.
Something about this feels like a game. You’re just not sure if you’re playing it… or if you’re the prize.
ypu sip on the glass that's in front of you... ughhh, it's so much alcohol, you never really drink more than 2-3 beers, this is probably vodka.
After some shots and glasses of liquor. Your head feels light, the room swimming in golden hues. Laughter bubbles from your lips, though you don’t remember why. Everything is warm—Steve’s deep chuckle, Bucky’s teasing smirk, the way their hands brush against yours when they pass you another drink.
“Easy there, doll,” Bucky murmurs as you sway, his grip steadying you. His palm is warm against your back, fingers pressing just a little too firm.
Steve hums, eyes dark with something unreadable. “Think you’ve had enough?”
You try to answer, but the words tangle on your tongue. The weight of their attention is heavier than the alcohol, making your pulse trip over itself.
Bucky leans in close, his breath brushing your ear. “Maybe we should get you somewhere quieter, huh?”
Somewhere quieter. That sounds… nice.
You nod, slow, barely processing the way Steve and Bucky exchange a glance over your head. The world tilts as you’re pulled up to your feet, their hands firm at your sides.
“You’ll thank us later,” Bucky whispers, and then—
Darkness.
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Your head throbs, a slow, pulsing ache behind your eyes. The air is thick—whiskey, leather, something faintly metallic. You shift, or try to, but your body feels heavy, unresponsive. A chill creeps over your skin as realization dawns.
This isn’t your apartment.
Blinking hard, you try to focus, but everything is blurred at the edges, like a dream you can’t quite wake up from. The dim room is unfamiliar—dark furniture, a single lamp casting long shadows. You move again, and that’s when you feel it.
Your wrists.
Bound.
Panic claws at your throat as you tug instinctively, the restraints biting into your skin. Your breathing quickens, heartbeat thundering in your ears. How did you get here? The last thing you remember—Bucky’s smirk, Steve’s steady gaze, their hands brushing yours, drink after drink until—
A low voice cuts through the haze.
“Look who’s awake.”
You twist toward the sound, pulse hammering. Bucky is leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, watching. Not far behind, Steve lingers, eyes unreadable.
“Easy, doll,” Bucky drawls, pushing off the frame. “Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
Steve steps closer, tilting his head. “You had quite a night,” he says, almost gentle. “But don’t worry. We’re gonna take real good care of you.”
The floor tilts beneath you. This isn’t right. This isn’t safe.
But the way they’re looking at you makes one thing clear.
You’re not leaving. Not yet.
You feel the walls closing in around you, your breaths shallow and fast. They’ve crossed a line, but you can’t quite process how, or why. Bucky steps closer, his boots clicking softly against the hardwood floor as Steve watches with an unreadable expression.
"We don’t want to hurt you," Bucky says, his voice almost too smooth. "But you need to understand something. This is just the beginning."
Steve remains silent for a moment, but his gaze never leaves you. The weight of it presses down, more suffocating than any restraint. Finally, he speaks.
"We’ve been watching you. You’ve caught our interest. And now," he pauses, just long enough for you to feel the discomfort coil in your stomach, "we’re going to make sure you understand how things really work."
Your pulse races, but you force yourself to steady your breath. You can’t let them see the fear. Not when you’re still trying to piece together what happened. They’re not acting like heroes anymore. They’re acting like something else—something you don’t fully understand yet, but it’s dark, and it’s dangerous.
Bucky leans in, his voice low, almost conspiratorial.
“You can struggle all you want, doll, but in the end, you’ll realize… this was inevitable. You were always meant to be part of our world.”
Your mind reels, questions forming but none coming out. Your wrists ache where they’re bound, your limbs stiff, but the confusion is almost worse than the physical discomfort. You’ve been trapped—pulled into something you never asked for.
They both smile, in their own way—Bucky’s grin sharp, Steve’s softer, but there’s no warmth behind it.
“What happens next is up to you,” Steve says, his voice now just a murmur in the silence. “You can fight it. Or you can learn. It’s your choice, but it’s also not.”
And just like that, you realize—you’re not going anywhere. Not until they’ve decided it’s time for you to leave.
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The room feels suffocating now, every breath like it’s trapped in your chest. The walls seem to close in further as you struggle against the restraints, your panic growing. You need to get out. You need help.
“No!” You shout, your voice cracking as you tug harder. The ropes bite into your skin, and you can feel your heart pounding in your throat. “Let me go!”
“Someone please HELP me!!!!!”you scream so loud, then wait, but there is no light.
A sound of a door opening, stops your atemps to break free. As you turn your face towards the door, you hoped it was the help. But it was them again.
Bucky’s face shifts. That grin falters, but the edge in his eyes sharpens. His hand shoots out faster than you can react, fingers curling around your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.
“You really think anyone’s coming for you?” His voice is cold, the calmness unsettling. “You’re not in control anymore. We are.”
You scream, louder this time, the sound desperate. “HELP!” You try again, but it’s barely more than a sob. You strain against the ropes, pulling until your arms burn. The air seems to thicken with tension, the room closing in even more.
Steve steps forward, his face hardening, eyes narrowing into something darker. The softness from before has vanished, replaced by something far more dangerous.
“Shut. Up.” His voice is a low growl. “You don’t get to scream.”
Bucky’s grip tightens on your chin, his thumb pressing painfully into your skin. “You wanted to test us? You wanted to see if we’d let you go? Now you’ll see how far we’ll take it.”
Your breath catches in your throat. The realization hits hard, like a punch to the gut.
They’re not just playing with you. They’re toying with something much darker—something you never expected from the men who were supposed to be the good guys.
But it’s too late now. The fear grips you completely, suffocating you under their cold stares. There’s no escape.
“Please,” you whisper, voice barely audible, “don’t do this.”
Bucky chuckles darkly, his fingers leaving your chin to trace along your jawline. Then slowly moving his hand to the neck of your dress. Then Steve joing and in one movement he rips the dress in half and you are exposed. Only in lingere.
“We told you. You don’t get a say in this anymore.”
