six: funeral

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CW: soft!dom!Bucky, oral sex, bondage, use of vibrators

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CW: soft!dom!Bucky, oral sex, bondage, use of vibrators... this man is unhinged and horny, okay? There's also angst, discussions of infant death (I know, I'm really sorry), a side character who alludes to sexual assault, murder, and zombie carnage.

AND some masturbation from our beautiful friend, Mr. Steve Rogers.

Once again, this got away from me and it's nearly 14k words. Please vote and comment!


And I have this dream where I'm screamin' underwater
While my friends are wavin' from the shore
And I don't need you to tell me what that means
I don't believe in that stuff anymore

Jesus Christ, I'm so blue all the time
And that's just how I feel
Always have and I always will
I always have and always will
- Phoebe Bridgers, "Funeral"


SOMEWHERE ALONG THE RUSSIA-UKRAINIAN BORDER

Steve's eyes pop open and he draws in a breath. He's covered in sweat and his heart pounds, but he can't remember what he dreamed about. It's like that a lot, especially lately. It's like his brain is trying to shield him from the terrors that it creates. He slumps back on his pillow and exhales softly, staring up at the ceiling.

He wonders if Bucky has nightmares too, if they reflect on similar horrors.

That's when the guilt sets in, icy and heavy, filling his veins with dread. He's afraid to close his eyes, afraid he's just going to replay that day over and over in his head. He let Bucky fall from that train, he let his best friend become an experiment for Hydra.

It'll always be his fault.

He feels tears slip down his temples and sniffles. The urge to find Bucky, to help him in some way, is so intense that it hurts.

He stumbles to the shower, because the opportunity might not come again for a couple of weeks. Steve closes his eyes as he starts the hot water and lets it pound against his back, his head hung. It's the closest thing to a warm hug he's been able to feel since he left to find Bucky; since the world went to shit.

He misses it, human contact; the feeling of someone's mouth on his. Before he left, he went out to a bar and met a woman, which was a very uncharacteristic thing for Steve Rogers to do. She didn't know who he was until he was fucking her in the alley. He was so pent up about Bucky, about finding him and making things right, that he felt like he had to get some kind of release. And it's not like he didn't try other methods, he did. He tried going to the gym. For hours. He tried running. For hours. He destroyed four punching bags, but he couldn't get rid of the dread in the pit of his stomach, the desire to take, to hurt a little.

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