Dark!artist!Steve x reader, wide of dark!writer!Bucky x reader
Warnings: kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, manipulation, gaslighting, our bois are dark, eh bucky might be more gray
My body jolted awake as I felt cool fingers touching my ribcage. I tried to push myself up only to feel two hands softly pushing me back into the bed.
"It's okay, Angel, lay back down." Steve. It's only Steve.
My breathing calmed as I relaxed back into the mattress, laying on my front. His hands carefully ran across my bare back, light massaging my spine. His legs straddled my upper thighs as he seemed to evaluating my back.
The only light in the room came from the dim lamp on my bedside table. It looks to still be the middle of the night.
My cat, Frodo, softly meowed from the foot of the bed. He must be annoyed with all of the commotion.
"I was out with Bucky tonight, we just got back. I wanted to check in on you but I was met with the perfect canvas laying right here in front of me." He murmured, my eyes furrowed in confusion. I turned my head to see him holding his pallete in my peripherals. "I've been making art of you this whole time, I never thought about making you into the art itself."
Goosebumps covered my skin as I felt the first stroke cover my skin. The paint was cold and the brush tickled. I wondered if he would be angry if I tried to sleep again.
He painted in silence for a long time, focused on the task at hand. It wasn't until the studio door creaked open that the brush stopped moving, that the paint stopped mixing.
"Only you would be able go paint a masterpiece while drunk off your ass." Bucky chuckled as he took in the site in front of him. "How are you going to sell that?"
"I was only going to look in on her, but my muse struck inspiration once more." Steve responded. "I think I'll take a picture, and paint her as she is."
Steve and Bucky have been going out frequently since Bucky has been introduced to our dynamic. Steve was excited to no longer have to keep this secret from his friend.
"I'm sorry he woke you," Bucky said, walking over to place a kiss on my temple.
"It's okay. I was made for him. For his art." I spoke the words softly. The words that have been ingrained into my mind since the day I came here.
As I stared into Buckys eyes his eyebrows furrowed in what looked to be concern, but the look was quickly gone as he pulled my hair over my shoulder.
"That's right baby, made just for me." Steve continued to paint as the words were muttered.
Exhaustion filled me as the two men conversed around me, but thoughts raced in my mind. If were made for Steve how come I work for Bucky?How can I inspire a person that I wasnt made for? Shouldn't he have a muse of his own.
"Stevie?"
"Yes, Angel?"
"How do I help Bucky? I was made for you I thought."
I didn't see the look the two men shared, the nod of reassurance. I didn't know they had been waiting for this question. That the answer has already been thought out.
"Bucky is a part of me, Angel. We've been best friends since we were babies. He might as well be my brother." Steve explained.
"Your purpose for Steve overlaps with the part of him that I share, because of that I can benefit from your gifts," Bucky continued.
I didn't notice the way they held their breath in anticipation, waiting for my response. I took the moment of pause to bring my arms up under my pillow, propping my head up more.
"Does that make sense, Angel?" Steve asked.
"I think so." With that confirmation the tension in the room dissipated. "Is it okay if I go back to sleep, Stevie?"
"Of course, Angel."
A deep breath escaped my lungs as I finally allowed my eyelids to flutter shut. Steve hummed a song quietly to himself, Dream a Little Dream of Me. Bucky crawled onto the king-size bed beside me, tying my hair into a low bun for me.
Just as I began to doze off, I heard Bucky whisper beside me.
"I think I'm in love with her."
No no no. He can't be. Steve would never allow it.
"What was that Buck?"
"Nothing, Steve. Just rambling."
I could feel Buckys gaze on my face as I finally fell asleep.
♡♡♡♡♡
When I awoke in the morning I was on my side, curled into Buckys side. Frodo was wrapped in ball in between our legs.
I pulled myself from his arms to see Steve sitting on the ground beside the bed, his head resting on the mattress. His camera sat on the floor beside him.
"Come back to me, Angel." Bucky reached his arms out, pulling me back into his embrace.
I nod in agreement, laying back into his arms.
"What am I to you, Bucky?" I asked, burying my face into his neck.
He hums in thought. He buries a hand in my hair, pressing his nose into it and inhaling deeply.
"You are the poem
that lives inside of me.
You are the words
Dancing in my head.
I may fasten the letters
A
nd string the words together,
But you are what colors them
And brings them to life."
I enjoy when he writes his poetry. More than I enjoy Steve making his art I think. I'm not sure why. I just do.
I nod into his neck at the words, accepting his response.
Click. Click. Click.
I turn at the sound, seeing Steve standing above us with his camera. The art on my back displayed to him as I cuddled into Buckys arms.
"I think this one might be even better than the original." He said, looking at the pictures on the camera screen. "You mind being the subject of one of my paintings, Buck?"
"Of course not, besides I owe you. If it weren't for you I never would've met your Angel."
I hate when they both stare at me like this. I don't know what to do with all of the attention.
"Why don't you take a shower Angel, and maybe I'll take you out on the balcony afterwards. You've been so good for us recently." Steve cupped my cheek, stroking it with his thumb.
I nodded enthusiastically. I haven't been outside in months. And I didn't dare ask after that moment in November.
My chain clinked on the ground as I skipped to the bathroom. Maybe if I'm good enough, this chain could come off one day.
Poetry by: Onur Taskiran
A/N: I've been thinking about doing drabbles for the muse!au based in requests or questions from readers. If that's something anyone is interested in just let me know!
