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The safehouse was thick with heat — from the broken A/C, sure, but mostly from the way both men had you spread out between them like their personal toy.
Dean was behind you, bare chest slick with sweat, one hand buried in your hair, yanking your head back so you couldn’t look away from your reflection in the dusty mirror across the room. Bucky knelt in front of you on the mattress, dark hair falling into his eyes as he slowly, deliberately, dragged the cold plates of his vibranium hand up your trembling inner thigh.
"Look at that,” Dean rasped against your ear, breath hot. “Our pretty baby’s already shaking and we haven’t even fucked her yet.”
“She likes the attention,” Bucky murmured, smirking. “You like being shared, doll?”
You whimpered, sandwiched between them, stripped bare and panting as you nodded.
Dean slapped your ass — hard. “Use your words, sweetheart.”
“Yes, Daddy… yes, Sergeant—please, I want both of you…”
Dean growled, his cock rubbing against your ass as he guided your hips back to grind against him. “Good girl.”
Bucky’s vibranium fingers finally dipped between your legs, teasing your soaked slit with cold, ruthless precision. You jerked at the contact, moaning helplessly.
“So sensitive already?” he teased. “Barely touched you, princess.”
"Too much," you whined — but your hips rocked into his hand anyway, chasing it like a needy little thing.
Dean chuckled behind you, dragging his tongue along your neck. “You say too much, but your pussy’s dripping for us.”
“And she’s gonna make an even bigger mess once we’re inside her,” Bucky added darkly, easing two fingers in and curling them just right.
You sobbed, head dropping — only for Dean to yank your hair again and make you watch in the mirror as Bucky worked you open with robotic control.
“Eyes on yourself, babygirl,” Dean ordered. “Wanna see how pretty you look while we ruin you.”
"Fuck—please—please, I need it—"
“You need it?” Dean sneered. “That right? You need Daddy’s cock and Sergeant’s fingers just to breathe?”
“Yes! Please—need it so bad—”
Dean didn’t wait. He lined himself up behind you and slid in, slow but deep, filling you to the hilt with a rough groan. You cried out, body twitching from overstimulation as Bucky kept fingering you from the front, not relenting for a second.
Dean’s hand wrapped around your throat, cutting off air just enough to make your head spin.
“Take it. All of it,” he growled. “You asked for this.”
“Be a good girl,” Bucky murmured, voice sweet as sin. “Good girls let their daddies use ‘em.”
You tried to respond, but all that came out was a sob as Dean began thrusting, his rhythm brutal, every stroke pushing you forward into Bucky’s chest. The super soldier leaned in, licking into your open mouth, his metal hand still working you until your legs shook.
“That’s it,” Bucky whispered against your lips. “You gonna come for us? All over my fingers while he splits you open?”
“Come on, babygirl,” Dean groaned, snapping his hips harder. “You let go now, and we’ll fill you up like a good little cockdrunk toy.”
You shattered with a scream, body seizing as pleasure rocked through you, your mind blank and mouth open while both men coaxed you through it — hands all over you, voices like gravel and honey in your ears.
Dean kept fucking you through the orgasm, pulling out only to let Bucky slide in behind you next. His cold metal hand gripped your hips like a vice as he pushed inside, making you sob from the sensitivity, from the stretch.
You were already shaking again, already close.
“You take us both so good, sweetheart,” Bucky groaned. “Think you can come again? Just for me?”
You nodded, barely coherent. Dean cupped your chin and kissed you messy, deep, before whispering:
“That’s our good girl.”